Rod watched his brother drink heavily from the corner of his eye. “Here,” his feet suddenly dropped to the floor and he reached under the table, drawing forth some of his brother’s equipment that he had brought with him. “I thought you might want this.”
It was Rhys’ double-sword sheath, complete with both weapons intact. There were also more pieces of armor but Rhys was already fortified. Rhys stood up and began to strap on the double-sword sheath.
“Thanks,” he said to his brother as he fussed with the straps. “I left Whitebrook so quickly that I left all of my weaponry behind.”
Rod flicked a finger at him. “Where’d you get that armor?”
“From St. Briavels.”
Rod took a good look at the older, well-used armor. “Is that the stuff that FitzPeter gave you?”
Rhys nodded, securing the last of the leather. “It was all I had available.”
Rod inspected it. “It looks serviceable enough. It’s heavier than your newer protection.”
“My newer protection is far superior.”
Rhys plopped back down in the chair and reclaimed his drink. Rod watched him slurp one cup and pour himself another. He could tell that his brother was deeply disturbed and he set his own cup down, his gaze sympathetic.
“Rhys,” he said quietly. “You know I would never dream of interfering in your personal life, but what in the hell is going on? Did I just see what I thought I saw up in that room?”
Rhys took two long swallows before turning to his brother with an impassive expression. “What do you think you saw?”
Rod lifted his eyebrows at him. “I may be many things, but a fool is not among them. If I didn’t know better, I would say that you and the lady have been engaging in, shall we say, marital pleasures.”
“And just how would you know that?”
“Because it was written all over her face,” Rod snapped softly. “And yours; since when do you drink like this? Brother, you are bleeding confusion and sorrow out of every pour of your body. I can feel it.”
Rhys’ jaw flexed dangerously; coming from a usually emotionless man, it was disturbing. “You feel nothing.”
Rod hissed; unlike his older brother, he was more passionate, more emotional about things. He did not like seeing his beloved brother upset.
“You insult me by lying,” Rod said. “Or do you truly take me for a fool?”
Rhys looked at him, then, and the tick in his jaw grew worse. “You are a fool if you continue this line of conversation.”
“Why?” Rod shot back softly. “Are you going to run me through with those dual blades? Are you going to strike me? Or are you going to tell me the truth and let me help you?”
Rhys stared at him. His jaw was so tense that his lips were white. He suddenly sat back in his chair as if Rod had just struck him.
“You cannot help,” he muttered, turning away. “God knows, I wish you could. I truly wish you could.”
Rod was relieved that Rhys hadn’t taken him up on his suggestion of implanting the swords into his body. He was also relieved that Rhys seemed to be letting his guard down. He sat forward, lowering his voice.
“Tell me the truth. Did you compromise the lady?” he asked.
Rhys lowered his head; he was staring into this lap. After a moment, he nodded his head. “I did, and I do not regret it, not for one moment.” His head shot up and he stared at his brother, the brilliant blue eyes blazing. “I love her, Rod. I love her with all of my heart and soul and she returns that love. We are shattered at the knowledge that she will marry another and we both know that there isn’t a damn thing we can do to stop it. I would give up my work, my strength, and my life just for a chance to be with her but we both know that it is impossible. Now that I’ve said all of this, do you still believe you can help me? I am a knight who has destroyed my mission and forsaken everything I ever believed in. But know this; I would do it again in an instant if presented with the same proposition. The lady means everything to me and I would do it all again without hesitation.”
It was an impassioned, devastating speech. Rod stared at his brother, heartbroken and shocked. But he really had not suspected otherwise. Still, he hurt desperately for his brother. He could read such pain in the man’s eyes as he could not fathom. He sighed heavily.
“Rhett told me everything,” he said quietly. “He told me why he summoned me from Bronllys. After what you have just told me, you must turn her over to me, Rhys. You must let me complete this mission before the damage is irreversible.”
“It is already irreversible,” Rhys snapped softly. “I am thinking of taking the lady out of the country. Perhaps to France or Ireland, somewhere where we can be married and live out our lives together.”