Lord of Fire,Lady of Ice(39)

Brant wielded his broadsword valiantly against Gunther in exercise. Several of the men stopped to see the mock battle between the two large men. Both combatants grunted as they defended the other one’s blow. Their heavy swords thrust and clanged together in noisy affirmation of their strength. Gunther swept his sword forward, missing Brant’s naked shoulder. Brant smiled and returned a thrust in kind. Sweat dripped freely down their naked chests as their muscles strained under the motions.

Several of the onlookers roared in masculine approval of the battle. A wager was called by a short, square-shouldered soldier and quickly took up by another. The delighted jeers could be heard over the bailey yard. By their expressions, each of the observing knights were glad the talented Vikings would be on their side in battle.

“Hold!” called Gunther suddenly, wiping the sweat from his eyes with his bare arm.

“What?” Brant automatically dropped his weapon to his side. “Have you got a difficulty?”

“Nay,” Gunther smiled in delight as he nodded over Brant’s shoulder. His eyes gleamed with mischief. “But methinks I might need to save a damsel in distress.”

Brant turned. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Della running toward the exercise yard. She looked scared. His urge to go to her subsided as he felt Gunther’s hand on his arm, stopping him. Gunther jutted his chin boldly in the air in Della’s direction. Brant watched. His wayward wife turned and she wielded a stick at a young boy. Her burgundy skirts whirled around her ankles in a wave of crimson splendor and the gold cord at her waist snapped through the air. She picked up a fistful of her gown and held it so she would not trip.

His first surge of concern soon faded as he heard her yell, “Nay, you will ne’er have my keep.”

Brant could not help the smile that came to his face. He began to laugh, joined by the watching men whose attentions had been diverted from one battle to the other. The same square-shouldered knight called out a mock wager and the men guffawed in response. Brant ignored all of them, his attention held by the playful scene. His proper wife was making a spectacle of herself in front of everyone. Several servants had also stopped in their chores to watch the mock battle. He laughed at her technique as she swung her stick. It reminded him of their wedding day. She really didn’t know how to use the weapon.

“Do you know that young boy, Gunther?” Brant studied the familiar lad carefully.

“Yea, it’s only Rab. He’s a foundling to whom Lady Blackwell has taken a liking. She lets him help about the manor,” Gunther said. Della thrust the small stick sword in the air. “Methinks the lad wants to be a knight. I’ve seen him watching us from yonder tree.”

“Yea, he’s the boy from the other morn who told us about the raid.” Brant nodded, the memory coming to him.

“The same.” Gunther laughed louder. “Does yer wife know the scene she makes? Methinks Lady Blackwell is going to lose to the child. Look at how she holds her arm. If that was a real sword it would break her wrist. Mayhap you should teach her some technique, so that if the keep was e’er really in trouble she could defend herself.”

Brant didn’t answer. He wondered if teaching her to hold a weapon would be a mistake. It was possible his wife would turn the sword on him.

“This is not an extraordinary scene.” Roldan, one of the late Lord Strathfeld’s soldiers, stepped forward. He rested his practice sword lazily on the ground, pushing his weight onto it to bow the thin blade. Snorting loudly, he spat onto the ground before continuing, “M’lady oft plays with the children of the keep. It’s the only time her ice melts a bit and she seems human. She has some fondness fer children. Once she started a mud fight with them, took the servants damned near a fortnight to clean the muck from the castle walls. In the end, a heavy rain finally finished the task.”

That surprised Brant. By her nature, he had assumed she was one of those women who didn’t like children about them.

“Help! Help! If no one will save me, I will fight to the death,” Della yelled. Her battle brought her closer to the exercise field.

“Shall I go?” Gunther asked, a mischievous smile lining his face. Brant stared possessively at his wife. The whole castle knew the couple didn’t share chambers, and many speculated as to whether or not the lord and lady of the manor had even consummated the marriage. Since Della had been checked, there was no proof of a maidenhead to collect from the bridal sheets. Only Gunther knew the truth for sure. He read it well in his lordship’s eyes and he wasn’t saying a word. “M’lord?”