The Conquest

  Zared was amused at the idea of ending the feud. She knew him to be cowardly and weak-fleshed, but was he stupid also? "How do you propose to stop the fighting? To give us back the land your family stole from us? Will you give my brother Rogan the title of duke that should be his?"

  "Why, no," Tearle began, and at that moment he had an idea. "I shall end the feud by marrying a Peregrine to a Howard. We will join our families."

  "Do you have a sister hidden away who you plan to marry to Severn? Some drooling idiot of a sister you will try to foist on my handsome brother?"

  He smiled at her. "I thought perhaps I would marry you."

  Zared made the mistake of trying to breathe and laugh at the same time. She choked rather spectacularly.

  Tearle pounded her on the back and handed her a mug of watered wine. She gulped the wine while trying to move out of his reach.

  "Me?" she said at last. "Marry me? Me marry a Howard?"

  Tearle stiffened. "What better could a Peregrine hope for? You have no dowry." He looked her up and down. "You are not even a full woman."

  "Woman enough to want a man," she shot back at him. "Do you know how my brothers would take my saying I was to marry a Howard? My brother Rogan would—"

  "Yet you considered Severn marrying a sister, if I had one, which I do not." He had talked of the marriage on impulse, but since he'd said it, he didn't like her laughing at him. After all, it was an excellent idea, the best part being that he'd get his hands on her slim little body.

  Zared knew the man was stupid. "If my brother married a Howard, the woman would come to us. If I married you, a mere second son, I would go to live under your brother's rule. Do you think Oliver Howard would treat me well? Or do you think he would enjoy having a Peregrine to torture?"

  Tearle blinked at her. He could see his brother laughing in glee at the prospect of having a Peregrine under his roof. What he would do to Zared would increase the feud, not dampen it.

  "So you came to marry me," Zared said, still laughing at him. "How did you get past my brother?"

  "I have told you. I brought clothes." Tearle didn't feel jubilant any longer. He'd never proposed marriage to a woman before, and he had certainly never been turned down. What more did a woman want? He was the brother of a duke, he was handsome, he was—

  "Surely you did not think I would be fool enough to agree to marry you," she said. "It would be the same as turning myself over to you as a prisoner. I want the truth of why you are here."

  Tearle tried to recover his self-esteem. He grinned and shrugged. "You cannot blame me for trying. I told the truth when I said I wanted to end the feud. I am tired of hatred, and I thought perhaps I could befriend your brother and stop the hatred."

  "Befriend? How can a Howard be a friend to a Peregrine?"

  "I have made progress already. I brought clothes, and I brought your brother a splendid suit of silvered armor. It is mine. We are nearly the same size." He meant to point out to her his own strong, muscular body and to let her know he wasn't the weakling she seemed to think he was. But she didn't seem to hear.

  She stood and walked to one side of the big tent. "You came bearing clothes and armor—Howard clothes and armor—and my brother accepted it all without question?" Zared was having some doubts about her brother. Severn had said he'd been to lots of tournaments, yet he hadn't known about the procession. He said he knew all about women, yet he hadn't known Lady Anne would hate being picked up in front of everyone.

  "It was easier than I'd hoped. Your brother seemed to be expecting clothes from Lady Liana."

  "Not expecting them, but Liana…" She stopped. She wasn't going to tell that man, that enemy, anything. It wasn't like Severn to believe a stranger, but perhaps he had been embarrassed this morning, too.

  Zared's head came up. "So you are to be a servant to my brother? Is that what you told me? He is to call you Smith, and you, a rich man—falsely rich, for your land belongs to my family, but a rich man nonetheless —you are to fetch food for us? Shall you empty the chamber pots?"

  "I'll see that those lazy servants of yours do the work."

  She didn't believe him, not one word he said. "Now that the Howards know there is a Peregrine female, is it I you plan to take?"

  "I have told no one that you are female. I have told no one that I am a Howard."

  "Someone will recognize you. Someone will point you out as a Howard, and then my brother will kill you and your brother—"

  "Cease!" he half yelled. "I am not the evil monster you portray me to be. I am a simple man who does not want to spend his life hating. I saw a way to befriend the Peregrines, and I took it. No one knows me here except Anne, and she—" He stopped because he'd said far too much.

  "Anne? Lady Anne? The woman Severn is going to marry?"

  "Anne marry your uneducated lout of a brother? She'd rather—"

  Zared slapped him across the face, and it was a good, hard slap.

  "Why, you little—" he said, going for her.

  "You are awake," Severn said from the doorway, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Have you met Smith? Liana sent him." He walked toward the cot and picked up Zared's plate, but before he could get a bite to his mouth Zared grabbed the food from him.

  "That's mine," she said. "I mean it was meant for me."

  Severn looked puzzled. "All right. Smith, get me food."

  "No!" Zared yelled, dropping her plate. Food fell to the ground as she ran to put herself between Tearle and the food that stood on a little table.

  "What is wrong with you?" Severn asked, frowning.

  "Uh… uh…" She couldn't seem to think quickly enough.

  "I believe the boy is concerned that this food isn't as good as what the Marshalls are serving. This is cold and greasy, while in the hall hot soups are being served."

  Severn still looked puzzled. It wasn't like Zared to care about food. As long as the meat didn't have maggots on it and the weevils in the bread had been baked and weren't still crawling, the Peregrines didn't pay much attention to food.

  "I want you to have the best, " Zared said. "To keep up your strength for the fighting."

  Severn rumpled her hair. "All right. I'll go up to the hall. You stay here with Smith and sort out the clothes Liana sent. See if there's something in there for you."

  "My clothes are more than suitable for a Peregrine." She looked at Severn's tunic of thick black silk. There were gold and silver dragons embroidered along the edge. "We need not all look like peacocks."

  Severn gave her a hard look. "Do not disgrace me. Smith, see to my squire." With that, he turned on his heel and left the tent.

  Zared turned to look at Tearle. "Once in my life I get to see the world, and I am put in the care of a Howard. Now I shall have to stay with you every minute to see that you do no harm to my brother."

  "Every minute?" Tearle smiled, liking the prospect.

  Chapter Five

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  Zared watched as the Howard man went outside and rummaged through the cart that contained the clothes and weapons he had brought. Her belly growled with hunger, and in the distance she could hear the clash of weapons and the shouts of the crowd as the combatants met one another in the joust. Had Severn fought yet? Who had he fought? Had Colbrand fought yet?

  She didn't know because she had been drugged by a Howard and had slept the day away.

  Watching the man with his black hair and black clothes, she knew that what was to have been a pleasurable time for her was going to be a nightmare. Do Howards mean to ruin all my life? she thought. Was she to have no time when she was free of them? On her own land she could not ride out alone without being snatched by a Howard. And it looked as though she wouldn't even be allowed to enjoy herself at the tournament.

  She watched him pull out a garment of ruby-red velvet, the hem trimmed in gray fox.

  He had proposed marriage to her. Marriage between a Howard and a Peregrine. How absurd the idea was. Her brothers would never allow her to live u
nder Oliver Howard's power. Not to mention the fact that the Howards would probably chain her to a wall and starve her.

  As she watched the Howard she knew he would not have strength enough to fight his older brother. A marriage to him would mean being a prisoner to his brother. The weak man who had nearly died from a small cut was not man enough to stand up to someone like Oliver Howard.

  "This," he said, holding out the dark red tunic to her. Across it was draped a pair of finely knit hose.

  "I will—" She started to say that she would not wear anything a Howard gave to her, but then Colbrand went striding by. He was as beautiful as she remembered, perhaps even more beautiful. Again he was wearing white. A white as pure and as clean as a mountain lake. His hair shone in the sunlight. Rays sparkled off his armor. His eyes—

  Tearle shoved the tunic into her chest so hard that Zared took a step backward. "Put it on," he growled.

  She felt the velvet, looked at the fur. Perhaps Colbrand would like her better in pretty clothes. "I will wear them, but not for you," she snapped at Tearle, turning back into the tent. "Stand here so that I can see where you are," she ordered.

  With one eye on her enemy's back she quickly changed into the new clothes. She stretched out her leg, pleased that there were no holes in the hose, no grease stains. There was soft fur about the neck, and she rubbed her cheek against it.

  "Are you dressed yet?" Tearle asked impatiently from outside. "Your brother rides against his first opponent."

  Zared shoved past him to go outside and ignored the way he looked at her. "Come, I would see my brother. You are to stay near me."

  "I will force myself to do so," Tearle said, chuckling.

  But Zared never made it to the lists. Not far from the dilapidated Peregrine tent she could see a tent of white sendal, a white banner embroidered with silver leopards flying from the crown. As though she had no control over her feet, she turned toward the tent.

  "Your brother—" Tearle said from behind her, but Zared kept walking.

  Before the tent sat Colbrand's squire Jamie, ineptly trying to sharpen a sword on a round, pedal-powered whetstone.

  "You," Jamie said, looking up at Zared with the hovering black shadow behind her. Jamie had decided he hated the Peregrine boy because he had been the cause of a severe tongue-lashing from Colbrand. "What do you want?" Jamie sneered.

  Zared opened her mouth to reply, but then Colbrand came out of the tent. He no longer wore his armor, but his big, muscular body was covered in a short white tunic, his legs encased in pale gray hose. She could only stare at him speechlessly.

  Colbrand did not at first see the Peregrine squire. His eyes were on Jamie. "That is not the way to hold the blade," Colbrand said in a tone, as though he'd said it a hundred times. "You have not your mind on the task. I will show you."

  "I can do it," Zared said, and she walked to Colbrand, her eyes big as she gazed up at him.

  Colbrand smiled at her. He was used to young boys hero-worshipping him and this boy was no exception, he thought. He was always kind to the boys, for who knew if in a year or two he might not meet one in a joust. But then Colbrand was kind to most people because it was his nature.

  "I would be pleased if you would show my squire," Colbrand said.

  Zared took a step forward, but a big hand clamped on her shoulder. "He has to attend his brother."

  "Oh, then you must go."

  Zared turned and narrowed her eyes at Tearle. "My brother can take care of himself. All the Peregrines can take care of themselves, including this one." She jerked her shoulder from his grip, then turned and smiled back at Colbrand. She was still looking at him as she took the sword from Jamie.

  "I'll get you for this," Jamie whispered as he relinquished Colbrand's sword.

  Zared ignored him as she sat on the stool before the whetstone. When she'd been growing up her brothers had despaired of making her as strong as a boy might have been, so they gave her many peripheral tasks, such as sharpening swords and banging dents from armor. She was good at putting an edge on a blade, and she used all her knowledge to put a perfect, sharp edge on Colbrand's sword.

  When she was finished she held it up to him, looking at him as a puppy might when it hoped for praise from its master.

  Colbrand took the big sword and ran his thumb along the edge. "Excellent," he said, and he smiled so warmly at Zared that she was sure she was going to faint again.

  At that moment a vendor came by, a big tray on a ribbon about his neck.

  "Work such as this must be rewarded," Colbrand said. "Are you boys hungry? No," he said, laughing, "boys of your age are always hungry." He gave the vendor a coin and told Zared and Jamie to choose the tarts they wanted.

  Zared chose a cherry tart, and for a moment she just stared at it. It was from Colbrand, and she had an urge to save the tart, to keep it forever. But hunger won out, and she ate it, but slowly.

  "Have you fought yet?" she asked Colbrand.

  "Once," he answered, smiling fondly at the boy who looked up at him with such naked worship. The boy had no doubt heard of his reputation, of the many prizes he had won over the years.

  "And he won," Jamie said belligerently to Zared. "He scored four times. Colbrand has never been knocked from his horse."

  "Now, Jamie," Colbrand said. "We should not tempt fate. Perhaps at this tournament I shall be downed. There are some new men here, such as your brother. He is good with a lance?"

  Zared bit down on a cherry pit, and instead of spitting it on the ground she sucked it dry, then slipped it into the top of her hose. "He is very good," she said. "But perhaps with your skills and practice you will show yourself well against him."

  "Show himself well!" Jamie said, coming to his feet. "Colbrand will knock your brother to the ground." Jamie didn't like the way his beloved master was paying attention to the too-pretty boy. He was angry that the boy could sharpen a sword better than he could. He didn't like the way people were saying that for all their dirt, the Peregrines were brilliant fighters. He knew Colbrand expected him to display good manners at all times, but the bragging of the Peregrine brat was too much for him. He leaped on Zared.

  Tearle's first instinct was to let the two of them fight it out. Zared had been making a fool of herself over Colbrand, and he didn't like it one bit. How could she be so starry-eyed over a man who was too stupid to see that she was a girl? How could she be so dumb as to fall for a pretty face on top of some shiny armor?

  Neither Colbrand nor Tearle had time to interrupt the brawl because Severn, wearing armor, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, came storming up to them and grabbed both Jamie and Zared by the necks of their tunics and pulled them apart. He didn't so much as look at Jamie but flung him aside as though he were a used rag. Zared he held on to, and he pulled her with him as he hauled her through the tents, past the watching eyes of the many people on the grounds, and led her to their tent. He shoved her inside, shoved her so hard she nearly went through the other side.

  She knew Severn was angry, and when one of her brothers was like that she knew better than to open her mouth.

  "You are my squire," he said in a low voice that Zared knew meant he was really, truly, deeply angry. "Your duties are to bring me fresh lances, to care for my horses, to give me drink when I need it. Yet you sleep the day away, and when you wake, do you come to help me? No, you make an ass of yourself over that puffed-up, strutting—"

  "Colbrand isn't—" Zared stopped herself. It was not the time to argue with her brother.

  He advanced on her, and she stepped back in fear. While her brothers often pummeled each other, they'd never hit her in the same way, but she didn't trust him to hold his temper. "I am most sorry, Severn," she whispered.

  "I've a mind to return you to Liana."

  "Oh, no, please don't," she whispered. "I will help you. I swear it."

  "How? By playing the fool to that Colbrand? Don't you realize that he also tried for the Lady Anne's hand? At dinner it was said that sh
e favors the man, as does her father."

  "I didn't mean any harm. His squire is stupid. He doesn't even know how to sharpen a sword. I had to show him all that you have taught me, and—"

  "You sharpened his sword?" Severn's eyes were popping, he was so angry. "A sword he is to use against me? Has your loyalty changed so completely? Do you wish to see him shed my blood?"

  "No, Severn, please, I meant no harm. I was only trying to help. His squire cannot even sharpen a sword."

  "And my squire cannot even get out of bed. What is it you want from this Colbrand? Do you wish to see him beat me?"

  "No, Severn, of course not. I just…"

  "What?" he demanded.

  "I…" What could she say? That she found Colbrand beautiful beyond words? That when she was near him her skin tingled?

  "I believe she desires him in her bed," Tearle said calmly from behind Severn.

  "I do not!" Zared bellowed. "What do you know of my wants? What do you know of anything? You are—"

  "She?" Severn asked. "You told someone of your sex?" He sat down on a stool, his head in his hands. "Liana was right."

  "I didn't tell him anything," Zared spat. "He knew."

  Severn looked up at Tearle questioningly.

  Tearle was quite calm. "Look you at her. Would you believe her to be male? She is so hot for this Colbrand she can barely stand when he is near, yet the fool thinks her to be a boy. She argues as a girl; she speaks as a girl; she walks as a girl; her voice is that of a girl. How could I not know?"

  Severn's mind was reeling. If it became common knowledge that Zared was female, that knowledge was sure to get back to Oliver Howard. He seemed to have taken a vow to capture all Peregrine females, and Zared would be no exception. How could Severn possibly protect her if he was always on the jousting field? That day, when she should have been where he could see her, she was instead dallying with a man who was competing with him for a woman's hand. How was he to know that perhaps Colbrand wasn't paid by Oliver Howard?

  "You must return to Rogan," Severn said at last. "You are in danger."