Jarael's warhorse easily bore the extra burden of his master's wife. Held tightly in his arms, surrounded by his love, she slept for most of the ride back to the keep. She didn't wake until they came within sight of the gates.
A messenger had taken the glad tidings back to Farlathi. The sentry spotted them and announced to all and sundry that the Bear had returned with their Lady safe and sound. The word spread throughout the keep and a cheer rose as the gates opened to admit the troop.
As they neared the manor, they noticed two men and a woman in Paska dress waiting by the steps to the front door. When they drew nearer, Jarael had the odd feeling of recognition, looking at the tallest and oldest of the men. It was like looking into his own future and seeing his older face.
As they drew up and dismounted, the man stepped forward, looking first at Jarael, then past him to Liara as Gavin helped her down from her horse.
"Maker be praised," the man murmured in Paska, "my sister can you truly live?"
"Murchadh?" whispered Liara, her eyes growing wide.
"Told me you were dead, did the old boar," said the man. "May the day I believe him be cursed."
"Sold me, did the old pig," Liara said roughly. "Dead I thought you were my brother!" The man opened his arms, and Liara rushed into his embrace.
"My nephew you must be." Murchadh looked at Jarael over Liara's head. "Much to discuss we have."
"Indeed, we do," said Jarael. Then he switched to Nandarin. "Uncle, this is my Father-in-Law and my Mother's husband, Gavin, Marquis of Farlathi."
"My little sister a Marchioness?" Murchadh's Nandarin, though accented, was fluent. "I perceive a long story." He put out a hand to Gavin. "I greet you, husband of my sister, now my brother."
"And I greet you, brother of my wife, now my brother," replied Gavin. "Come inside and refresh yourselves. Then we shall all sit down to dinner and tales."
Murchadh introduced the woman as his wife, Briallen and the other man as his son Eurion. After hugs all around, they were shown to their rooms and provided with access to the bath house with the promise of a good meal to come.
When they bathed, Jarael insisted on examining Rhiannon to check for any injury. She had no complaint over his hovering; it was heavenly to be home safe. He was grateful to find nothing more than a bruise or two. Once settled in the main pool, he stayed remarkably calm as she related her story of how she had maneuvered Segun, but his eyes showed a mixture of anger and pain.
"I have always known you were wise and clever," he said softly, kissing her shoulder as she rested against him. "I'm sorry you had to deal with him. I should have been quicker."
"You're not the Maker, Husband," she replied, reaching back to stroke his face. "We're both fine, Segun is dead and will cause us no more trouble, so you may cease upbraiding yourself."
"I have sent a message to Ranfurly and King Kenet about this revelation of a plot. I must also ride for Hormon tomorrow," he said. "And I suspect I will not ride alone."
"Papa will go with you, certainly."
"And my Uncle and cousin, unless I miss my guess. There is the matter of Pabian's treatment of my mother to deal with."
"Will there be trouble, do you think?"
"Trouble?" His arms wrapped her close. "Not as much as I would like. I have little doubt that Pabian and Ursula had a hand in Segun's plans, but I cannot summarily spit the snake with my blade, as much as I would like to. Still, being embroiled in a plot to overthrow the King, Hormon will be fortunate to escape this business with his neck. With the information Delwyn has, there will be a great many in that predicament. Norwood is rather inept, but he is loyal to Kenet and will be horrified at this. Segun's death will be a minor issue."
His estimation of Murchadh proved to be correct. The Paska Laerna decreed that he and his son would ride with their kinsman to confront Pabian and Murchadh would demand satisfaction for the wrongs done to Liara.
During Dinner, Murchadh had told them of chasing and defeating the Munsk raiders that had killed his and Liara's father. It had taken him almost two years and when he had contacted his uncle, he was told that Liara had died. Not realizing that his uncle was a liar as well as a gambler, he had left the clan to the older man and began a shipping business with the Munsk ship he had captured. He had met and married his wife in an expatriate Paska community in one of the ports.
It had taken twenty years for a messenger from Mor Dirwyn to find him and tell him what a sad mess his uncle had left them in. When the old man could no longer pay his gambling losses, his debtors had killed him and stolen everything of value he had. Murchadh had returned to his ancestral home, buried the old man and began to set things to rights. Fortunately the clan lands were on the coast with a good port and his shipping business was profitable. He had rebuilt his clan's fortunes and his life was good.
Rumors and stories about the exploits of a man called 'the Bear'—a former slave who was half Paska and half Nandar—caught his attention. When he heard that the man's mother was named Liara, a suspicion took root in his mind. The reports of the Bear wedding the heiress of Farlathi had given him the location to investigate his suspicions. He had arrived to hear the story of Rhiannon's abduction and rescue and was told that the Lord and Lady and their son and daughter would return presently. With the overwhelming sense of tynged this course of events brought, it was no surprise to discover that his suspicions were accurate.
After dinner, when they adjourned to the parlor, Rhiannon sat and smiled, watching her husband and his newfound family. He and Eurion could have been brothers, save Jarael was dark and Eurion was fair. Both resembled Murchadh—whom Liara said resembled their father, Fiernach—very much. Briallen was a sweet woman who adored her family and happily embraced Liara and Rhiannon as sisters.
When Jarael decided that they should retire a bit early, Rhiannon didn't complain. She was eager for her husband's arms around her. Once in their room, he took his time and she was in no hurry either. The slow sweet lovemaking was a celebration of their marriage, their love and that she was home and safe. They fell asleep spooned together.
In the gray light before dawn, the men—Jarael, Kura, Gavin, Murchadh and Eurion rode out. All were fully armored and carried their weapons and Jarael had a canvas sack tied to his saddle. Messages had been sent out the day before to have fresh horses ready for them in stages. They would not stop until they reached Hormon.
Riding hard, they covered ground swiftly. By late afternoon they were nearly to the border that crossed into Norwood's territory. As they topped a hill within sight of the river that formed the border, they saw a mounted scout coming from the north. The man waved an arm at them, and they drew to a stop to see what he wanted.
"Would you be the party from Farlathi?" the man called as soon as he was within shouting distance.
"We are," replied Gavin. "I am the Marquis."
"Very good," replied the man. "Ride on. The Duke and His Majesty will catch up with you soon."
"His majesty?" Jarael looked at his father-in-law solemnly. "Is this good or bad, Aithair?"
"Good, I suspect," replied Gavin. "It would be bad if we were told to turn back. But Kenet is no fool."
They rode on, crossing the river into Norwood's demesne. Shortly after nightfall, when they stopped for a quick bite to eat, they heard the sound of horses approaching. To their surprise, the group halted some distance away and only two men came into their camp, both fully armored, one in black riding a cream colored stallion and one in plain steel riding a pure white horse. They stopped and dismounted, removing their helms.
"Good evening My Lord Duke," said Gavin, rising to his feet. "And to you, too, Your Majesty. I take it the Damark are in retreat?"
"I certainly hope so, Gavin," said Sandor, Duke of Ranfurly. It surprised Jarael to realize his overlord was not much older than he. "We've pushed them back into their plains, and set a guard at Teigh Thar."
"Time will tell." Kenet, King of Enniskillen, walked over to Jarael. "It's been a while, Sir Jarael."
"It has, my King. I trust your parents are well?"
"As well as can be expected." Kenet turned to Murchadh and Eurion, noting the strong resemblance immediately. "You've discovered you have kinsmen?"
"Indeed." Jarael gestured to his uncle. "This is my mother's brother, Murchadh of Mor Dirwyn and his son, Eurion."
"Mor Dirwyn?" The King thought a moment. "Isn't that the port in the south of Hengist's lands?"
"It is," replied Murchadh. "We hold our clan from the coast to Anrach Slia."
"So I have heard. We must have a long talk when this mess is over." Kenet turned back to Jarael. "So, what's this plot you've uncovered?"
Jarael told him about Segun's last words before losing his life, and Delwyn's retentive memory that gave them all of the names, dates, places and particular plots. He also provided a written document signed by Delwyn with all of the information. Along with the plot to depose Kenet, it directly implicated Franco, the Duke of Hengist, in the attack on Caedmon, Kenet's father, in which a chemical mixture that was intended to explode did not work properly, but the caustic fumes burned his eyes, leaving him permanently blind. Kenet and Ranfurly listened with grave expressions. When the Bear was finished, Kenet sighed.
"Well, Sandor," said the King heavily, "this explains a great deal we didn't understand." He scowled. "Damn Franco, he's been very good at hiding his treachery. I counted Hengist a friend and he was deep in all of our councils." He turned to the marquis. "I have some arrangements to make, but we'll ride with you to Hormon, Gavin. It seems we all have something to hold Pabian accountable for." Kenet rested a hand on the Duke of Ranfurly's shoulder and they began to walk toward their men. "Sandor, we need to make arrangements to secure these traitors until I can deal with them directly. I'm sure some of them will provide more evidence to save their own hides. I'll send the Battle Hawk off to Hengist tonight, before Franco can be warned ..."
"So, that is Annwyl's grandson," said Murchadh to Gavin as the two passed from hearing. "He has great presence for one so young."
"He does," replied the Marquis. "He's wise beyond his years. Kenet has his father's guidance, still, and he's wise enough to heed it."
"Caedmon was a formidable warrior," said Murchadh. "What was done to him was wicked. For that alone there should be swift retribution. Were I kin to our King, I would ask the honor of standing as cynriwyr (proxy) for him."
"It's enough that you stand for Liara," said Gavin. "Would that I could exact such recompense from Hormon."
"I think your acceptance of my sister and nephew has rubbed the snake's face in the dirt already. I will exact my sister's aeragh (reparation in kind). I suspect all four of us will be satisfied by the finish of this business."
Whatever arrangements the king had to make in regards to the traitors were speedily accomplished. It wasn't long before their men scattered to do the king's bidding and the two returned to Jarael's camp.
Jarael walked directly to the Duke of Ranfurly and went down on one knee. Pleased by the man's forthrightness, Sandor smiled and recited the oath of fealty, which the Bear readily swore.
"My King speaks highly of you," said Sandor as Jarael came to his feet. "I count myself fortunate to have you in my demesne."
"I had long planned to make my home in your lands," replied Jarael. "But I looked no higher than a smallholding."
"I'm well pleased to have you in Farlathi," said Sandor. "My cousin deserves a husband who values her. I trust she took no harm from her ordeal?"
"Thankfully, no." Jarael smiled. "My wife is resourceful and courageous."
"She is." Ranfurly smiled in return. "I look forward to calmer times and an opportunity for social visits."
"We would be pleased to have you, My Lord."
"Please, Jarael, save the honorifics for state occasions. Sandor will do."
They rode on toward Hormon. It didn't take long for all of them to realize that they all were in on accord for the most part. They all shared Kenet's goal of eliminating the bigotry and cultural divide and making Enniskillen a place where anyone, no matter their antecedents, could make a good life for themselves and their families.
As they neared the boundaries of Pabian's lands, they were met by the very disturbed and apologetic Duke of Norwood. It took some time for Kenet to assure the man that he was not under suspicion or censure because of what had been going on under his nose. Even as he calmed Norwood, Kenet determined that Norwood's son would be spending some time under the tutelage of better teachers than his dithery father - possibly at Farlathi. Perhaps the Bear's decisiveness and swift thinking could offset Reginald's diffidence. Still, despite his shortcomings Norwood was loyal, and in the present circumstances that was no small thing.
Norwood's presence smoothed their way. The guards at Hormon opened the gate at his command, allowing the King and Ranfurly in their full helms to remain anonymous. As they neared the house, they realized from the crests on the carriage in the yard that Pabian had a guest—another member of his conspiracy. The door opened to Norwood's command and his guard stood at the door as the rest of them continued to the dining hall where the Count was entertaining.
Pabian looked up as Jarael walked in, dressed in his armor and carrying a sack in his hand. The count's eyes widened then narrowed. When Jarael walked to the end of the long table and stopped, not moving or speaking, Pabian came slowly to his feet. The others stepped into the room, but remained just inside the door.
"What is the meaning of this intrusion?" growled the count.
"Your son kidnapped my wife," said Jarael calmly.
"If this is true I will see to it that he makes amends," said Pabian haughtily.
"He already has." Reaching into the sack, Jarael pulled Segun's head out and tossed it down the table. It landed in front of Ursula and rolled almost into her lap. The color drained from her face and a low noise, almost a growl came from her throat.
"You bastard!" screeched Pabian. "You'll pay for this. I'll see you hanged!"
"No, you won't," Jarael said, still icily calm. "Your plot is no longer secret. Your pig of a son squealed loudly trying to save his miserable life."
Ursula was still staring at the severed head of her son. The sound began to grow louder, climbing in pitch until it was a scream. Suddenly she jumped up, scrambling back as the head rolled toward her. Grabbing a knife from the table she charged Jarael. There was a sharp twang and a bolt pinioned her wrist. The knife fell and she sank to the floor, wailing.
"Good shot," said Jarael.
"Thanks," said Kura.
"Segun was lying to keep you from killing him," snarled Pabian, focused on saving his own skin. "You can prove nothing."
"I can." Jarael heard the steps of booted feet as Murchadh, Eurion and Gavin came to stand beside him. "You have come to your reckoning, Pabian."
"Take your Paska rabble and get out of my house," yelled the Count.
"Rabble?" growled Murchadh. "I am Murchadh, son of Fiernach, brother to Liara whom you dishonored. I claim the right of aeragh."
"I recognize no heathen Paska customs," scoffed Pabian. "And I deny any accusations from the lying mouth of a slave."
"Actually, there is a comparable custom in Nandarin tradition," said Gavin evenly, walking around the table. Pabian drew himself up, trying to face down the marquis. "And even if there wasn't, you have more than earned this." Reaching the Count, Gavin slammed his fist square into the lout's face. "Insult my wife, you cad ..." The marquis muttered as he stalked back to stand by his son-in-law.
"I will lodge a formal complaint with Ranfurly and the King," sputtered Pabian, picking himself up off the floor and grabbing a napkin to stanch the blood flowing from his nose.
"Will that be before or after your trial for treason?" Pabian's jaw dropped as the helmed figure in steel armor came forward, flanked by a helmed warrior in black. Reaching up, Kenet removed his helm. "I am quite satisfied with the evidence against you, Pabian. But I'm willing to be somewhat lenient, do you abdicate in favor of Bevis." He dropped a gauntleted hand on the shoulder of the other man at the table, a baron called Raust. "You, on the other hand, will find mercy only if you tell me all you know."
"Abdicate?" The shock of facing the King he had sought to depose seemed to have robbed Pabian of his reason. His jaw was slack and his eyes held a look of dazed incomprehension.
"Consider yourself fortunate that I allow your bloodline to continue," said Kenet., "Since you planned to eradicate mine." Turning to Murchadh he asked, "Now, isn't there a matter of aeragh at question here?"
"There is."
Murchadh was thorough, but careful and used only his fists. By the time he was finished, it would take quite some time for Pabian to recover, and his ability to commit such an act again would be very much in question.
Norwood took charge of detaining both Pabian and Ursula. He sent a messenger to the smallholding where Bevis lived to apprise him of his elevation to Count of Hormon.
"Thank you for an interesting time, Gentlemen," said Kenet, as Norwood's guard took Pabian and his wife from the room. "I'm sure you would like to get back to your ladies." He smiled at Jarael. "Give your wife my greetings. I expect you both to come to Montclaire for a visit, once I manage to get back there myself." He then turned to the Paska. "I have a favor to ask of you, Laerna Murchadh."
"You need only ask, Grandson of Annwyl," replied the Chieftain.
"Sandor would tell you to be careful about such an open-ended pledge, my good man," said Kenet with a chuckle. "It's no small thing I ask. Franco has no heir and I cannot leave Hengist without an administrator. Since your lands are there, and your name is known, would you consent to hold Hengist in my name until I decide what must be done?"
"I am your servant," Murchadh replied earnestly. "I will do what you ask."
"Thank you." Kenet sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Treachery is a wound best excised swiftly and completely. I count myself fortunate to have the loyalty of such good men."
And so it was that the following day found Jarael, Gavin, Kura, Murchadh and Eurion drawing near to Farlathi as the sun was sinking. Tired, but happy to be back, they were greeted enthusiastically by their wives and sent off to the bath house to wash away the dust of the road.
Liara helped her husband wash. As he lowered himself into the big tub, she decided to join him. After a quick wash, she made her way to the pool. Gavin looked up with a smile at her approach, but then his expression grew puzzled.
"How odd," he said. "What is this, my dear?" He reached out and lightly traced a line of darker pigment that ran from below her breast down the left side of her stomach to her pelvis.
Liara looked and seemed just as puzzled as he. Then she turned pale.
"Liara!" Gavin stood and took hold of her, afraid she would faint. "What's wrong, my love? What does this mean?"
"I'm sorry," she replied, with a tenuous smile. "Come, let us sit in the pool."
"Now," he said as soon as they were seated and he had drawn her into his arms, "What is amiss?"
"Nothing." Liara ran her hand over the line in her skin. "I have had this happen before, once." She looked up at him. "It was when I carried Jarael."
It took a long moment for the full meaning of her statement to sink in. It was, he conceded, a prospect he had not anticipated, yet he could not be anything but thrilled.
"Are you not pleased, my love?" He stroked a hand down her hair.
"I ..." Liara swallowed. "I did not expect to wed, and having wed, did not expect a child." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Yes, I am pleased, but I admit I am a bit apprehensive. I am no longer young."
"Nor are you a crone. I'll be right here with you, every step," Gavin promised, and sealed his promise with a passionate kiss.
Jarael dozed in the hot water, his wife in his arms and his soul at last at peace. Since childhood he had wanted a few simple things—a wife, a home, children and peace to raise them in. All of his dreams had been fulfilled at last, in a manner he would never have believed possible. Tynged had brought him all his heart had always desired and more.
"Cariad," he murmured softly—then he smiled.