Forbidden Magic (51 page)

For a long while, Amery stood over the body of his dying half brother, watching the flow of blood poor from beneath Radolf's armor and trickle down his face and neck. He had known for years that it would come to this, and now that it was over, Amery truly wished there could have been another way. The young man's mind had been twisted from the start by a callous, unfeeling woman who had wanted nothing but power and wealth at any cost—even if it meant the death of her son. Thinking of that evil one, Amery glanced angrily toward Radolf's tent, wondering where the woman had gone, for he had seen Edlyn talking with Radolf there. It would give him great pleasure to raise his sword against her here and now, and let the blood of her son flow with hers.

"Amery."

Brought out of his reverie by the sound of his name on Radolf's lips, he turned back and knelt beside him, unnerved by the half-crazed look in his eyes.

"My death will come much easier," he whispered with a sneer, "with my knowing that your father cast you aside for a son that wasn't even his."

A puzzled frown came over Amery's face and he thought that perhaps he had misunderstood. Doffing his helm and setting it on the ground beside him, he asked, "What are you saying, Radolf?"

The man's eyelids fluttered and it was obvious to Amery that he lingered close to death. "My mother was unfaithful. I am not Lord Ryland's son, but Lord Alcot's." He gave a feeble laugh at the shocked expression that came over Amery's face. "Yea, 'tis true. She told me... at my tent just now." A trembling sigh shook him. "Dost thou see the irony of it, Amery? I killed my own father because I had fallen in love with a woman I could never have .. . my own half sister. Jewel." He nodded weakly at his left hand. "Take off the gauntlet."

Laying down his sword, Amery quickly did as he had been bidden, unaware that formalities had been dropped and that the dowager queen and Anne and Jewel, along with many others, had left the pavilion and were walking toward them. Nor did he sense their presence behind him as he stared down at the ring on Radolf's finger.

Radolf closed his eyes, his strength waning. "I took it from his finger ... after I slew him."

Jewel's hand flew to her mouth to stifle her gasp, and tears filled her eyes, for she had heard Radolf's confession.

"Give it to Jewel," he begged weakly. 'Tell her, I love . .. her." His head sagged to one side as his last breath left him.

B
urrowed deep beneath the fur pelts on the bed, Jewel I lovingly watched her husband stir the fire in the hearth against the cold October night, silently appraising the sleek, powerful muscles across his wide shoulders and the sinewy ripples of his back that narrowed to a lean waist. It was hard to imagine that nearly a year had passed since their first meeting at the inn on the road to Harcourt, or that within a few weeks she would give birth to their first child. The true lord of Wellington had returned to the castle and with him had come peace and good times while monies were being collected to free their king. Although Richard's brother, John, sought to take the throne, backed by greedy noblemen hoping to fatten their own purses, the people of England had banded together under Amery's guidance to see that justice was served and once again King Richard would reign.

Jewel smiled softly as she watched her husband, thinking how very much tike King Richard he was and deciding that that similarity was what drove him. She loved him for it. And she loved his stubbornness as well as admired his restraint. For the past two months he had denied himself the rights of a husband, fearing his passion for her would harm their child. Whether or not this was so, Jewel had given in to his willfulness and resigned herself to being content with simply having him hold her in his arms each night.

His task completed, Amery rose and strode toward the bed, a curious frown wrinkling his brow once he saw the laughter gleaming in his wife's eyes. "Hast thou grown tired of me already that you find the sight of me amusing?" he asked, sliding in beside her.

"Nay," she laughed. "I was merely imagining the difficulties you will have if our child is a boy and he has his father's traits. 'Twill be enjoyable to see who wins the argument."

Wrapping his arm around her, he laid his other hand on her rounded belly and frowned for a long while. "I see no difficulty at all, for 'tis a girl you carry." He stated it as fact, then settled" himself comfortably under the pelts and rested back against the pillows.

"How confident you are," she retorted with a chuckle, laying her head on his chest, his arm circling her protectively. His heartbeat drummed softly in her ear. "But what if thou art wrong and 'tis a boy I present to you?"

"I still foresee no problem. As always, the firm hand of his mother will guide him and teach him the gentler way." He smiled down at her. "Just as she has his father."

Amery kissed her then and Jewel thought that if she lived another tenscore years, she would never be happier than she was at that moment.