Desire

"You would know nothing of any laughter, naturally," Ulrich said.

"Nay."

"Never having been known to laugh at anything in your entire life."

Gareth ignored that. "For the most part, Desire appears to be naturally fortified by its high cliffs."

"Aye."

"The only obvious place to bring a boat ashore is the village harbor."

"Aye. But I noticed a couple of tiny coves here along the side of the isle that looks out across the channel toward Seabern." Ulrich indicated the points with his forefinger.

"Could a boat be landed in either place?"

Ulrich glanced at the sketch. "A small fishing boat, mayhap. But the climb up to the top of the cliffs would not be easy. One definitely could not bring a party of mounted men ashore at either of those two locations. There is no cause for concern there."

"Tis often the small things that cause a man to trip and fall."

Ulrich's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Small things such as daggers?"

"Aye. Are there any other interesting features of the isle?"

"Young William is very observant. He tells me that there are some caves in the cliffs near one of the small coves."

Gareth frowned. "Could men or arms be hidden in them?"

"Nay. At least not for more than a few hours. William says that at high tides the caves are filled with seawater."

"Very well." Gareth pondered the sketch. "Let us turn to the matter of this hall. The old wooden curtain wall is weak and sagging in many places. It must be replaced."

"Surely there is no great rush. Desire has never suffered an invasion and is not likely to do so anytime soon."

"I prefer to take every precaution."

"Aye, you always do. Except in bed, apparently."

Gareth frowned. "I want the old wall replaced with one constructed of stone."

"We will need to hire stonemasons in order to do that. I doubt that Desire has any available."

"We can hire them from Seabem. Send a man there as soon as possible to see to the matter."

"Aye, my lord."

Gareth took one last look at the map. "A natural fortress. Tis a good land we have come to, Ulrich."

He rolled up the parchment. "A fine land."

"They say that there was a very large bloodstain on the bridal sheets this morning," Ulrich murmured. "Far more blood than anyone would expect to discover after the normal activities of a wedding night."

"My dagger wound caused the greater portion of it. Damned thing bled like a slaughtered chicken."

Ulrich grinned. "Gareth, you and I have been as close as two brothers for more than ten years. Surely you can tell me the truth."

"About what?"

"About your little accident with the dagger. What really happened? Is it true that your bride took offense at your lovemaking and that she attempted to fend you off with your own blade?"

Gareth scowled. "Is that what the gossips are saying?"

"Tis one of the rumors going around." Ulrich raised his brows. "There are others, but none that are nearly so amusing. Mayhap if I knew the truth, I could squelch some of the gossip."

Gareth met his friend's glinting gaze very steadily. "I told you the truth. It was an accident."

"God's eyes, man, this is your old comrade-in-arms, remember? I know how you handle weapons.

Do not expect me to believe that you accidentally sliced your arm with your own dagger while acting the juggler in bed."

"As you said, accidents will happen." Gareth paused. "Especially in the marriage bed."

Ulrich swore again, under his breath. "Very well. If that is the way you would have it, so be it."

A knock on the door interrupted Gareth before he could respond.

"Enter," he called.

The heavy wooden door swung slowly inward to reveal the anxious but determined faces of William and Dalian.

"Good day to you, my lord," William said. He had a small chunk of meat pie in one hand.

"Good day." Gareth glanced at the meat pie.

William hastily concealed the pie behind his back and glanced uneasily at Dalian. It was clear he was waiting for either guidance or reinforcement from his older companion.

Dalian swallowed visibly. There were beads of perspiration on his brow.

His fingers clenched and unclenched in the folds of his tunic. "We came to speak with you, my lord." He looked pointedly at Ulrich. "We wish to be private."

Gareth studied Dalian. The minstrel was plainly terrified, but apparently he was not about to flee from the confrontation. In Gareth's experience there was only one thing that could fortify a young man's frail courage to such a degree: a woman.

"I comprehend that this conversation would concern Lady Clare, then?" he asked softly.

Dalian blinked several times very rapidly. "Aye, my lord, it would."

William stared, round-eyed, up at Gareth. "Is it true that she cut your arm with a dagger last night because you tried to hurt her, sir?"

Gareth tapped the rolled-up parchment lightly against his thigh. "Is that what she told you?"

"Nay, sir," William began eagerly. "She says?"

"My lady says it was an accident," Dalian broke in angrily. "She claims that you were entertaining her with a clever juggling feat and that the dagger slipped and cut your arm. But I do not believe it."

"What do you think happened?"

"I think you attacked her and she was forced to defend herself. She has told us many times that she does not care for large, arrogant, overbearing knights. She says they are oafish and ill-mannered and they do not have the souls of poets."

Ulrich coughed a little behind one hand.

Gareth kept his gaze on Dalian. "You doubt your lady's explanation of my injury?"

Dalian's hands knotted into fists. His sullen, resentful eyes mirrored his fear, but he did not back down.

"I believe that she is afraid to alarm us with the truth, my lord. 'Tis just like her to try to protect William and me."

"From what?" Gareth asked.

"From you," William said helpfully. "Dalian says that we are risking our very lives by coming here to talk to you like this. He says you'll likely be violently angry but that we have to do it in order to protect Lady Clare."

Gareth put the parchment map down. Then he leaned back against the table, folded his arms, and considered the matter in silence for a moment. No one moved. The chamber grew very quiet.

"I am not angry," he said finally.

William heaved a loud sigh and then grinned. "I did not think that you would be." He promptly brought the meat pie out from behind his back and took a large bite. "I told Dalian that you likely had not hurt Clare last night."

"I appreciate your confidence in me," Gareth said. "What makes you so certain that I did not do your lady any great harm?"

William chewed. "Nothing seems amiss with her. She's in her usual good spirits. She is even now in her workrooms as she always is in the afternoons."

"Excellent reasoning, William," Ulrich said approvingly.

William preened. "Lady Clare says I am very intelligent."

"You are correct," Gareth said. "I did not harm your lady last night."

He looked at Dalian. "But apparently our minstrel does not agree. What do you propose to do, Dalian? Challenge me to trial by combat?"

William looked thunderstruck. "Combat?" he squeaked.

"Why not?" Gareth watched Dalian's face. "Tis the usual way such matters are settled when a lady's honor is at stake. Do you favor swords or daggers, Dalian?"

Dalian looked as though he were about to become ill. "My lord, I…

That is, my lady would never allow me to fight you."

"There's no need to consult Clare on this," Gareth said. "Tis a matter for men, is it not?"

"Ah, well?"

"I myself would prefer swords." Gareth glanced ruefully down at the linen bandage on his arm. "As you can see, I lack skill with the dagger. I have been known to have accidents."