Page 7 of Honor's Splendour

She smiled at the beast while she timidly edged her way to the front.

Once she faced the animal, she pulled on the reins, forcing his head down. And then she began to whisper to him, her voice low, soothing, as she carefully explained her fears. "I've never learned the way of riding and that is why I'm so afraid of you. You're so strong, you could trample me. I've not heard your master call you by name, but if you belonged to me, I'd call you Silenus. 'Tis the name of one of my favorite gods from the old stories. Silenus was one of the mighty spirits of nature, wild and untamed, very like yourself. Aye, Silenus is a fitting name for you."

When she'd finished her one-sided conversation, Madelyne let go of the reins. "I've been ordered by your master to climb upon your back, Silenus. Please stand still, for I'm still very afraid of you."

Duncan had finished his dress. He stood across the clearing now, watching with growing astonishment as Madelyne talked to his horse. He couldn't hear what she was saying. Lord, she was trying to gain the saddle from the wrong side. He started to shout a warning, certain his horse would bolt, but the words wedged in his throat when he saw Madelyne seat herself on the top of the huge animal. It was all incorrect and certainly strange. He had to sigh over it. Now he understood why Madelyne clung to him when they rode together. She was frightened of his horse. He wondered if her ridiculous fear was confined to his stallion or to all horses.

The skittish stallion hadn't moved a muscle to disrupt Madelyne's awkward climb into the saddle. And damn if she didn't lean down and say something else to the animal once she was settled.

"Did you see what I just saw?" Gilard asked the question from behind Duncan's back.

Duncan nodded but didn't turn around. He continued to stare at Madelyne, a smile catching the corners of his mouth.

"Who do you suppose taught her how to ride?" Gilard asked, shaking his head in amusement. "She doesn't seem to possess the least amount of skill."

"No one taught her," Duncan commented. "That much is obvious, Gilard. Odd, but my horse doesn't seem out of sorts over Madelyne's lack of education." He shook his head then and began to walk toward the lady under discussion.

The young squire, Ansel, approached Madelyne from the opposite direction. He had a snicker on his freckled face and began to lecture Madelyne on her inferior abilities. "You're to mount on the left," he said with great authority. He took hold of Madelyne's hand, as if he would pull her to the ground so that she could remount correctly. The stallion began to prance just as Duncan appeared. Ansel's hand went flying, as did the rest of his body.

"Don't ever touch her again." Duncan's roar followed Ansel to the ground. The squire quickly regained his feet, apparently unscratched from the fall, and nodded his compliance.

The poor lad looked so horrified over displeasing his lord that Madelyne intervened on his behalf. "Your squire was thoughtful enough to instruct me," she stated. "He wanted to help me back to the ground, for I foolishly forgot in my haste to mount from the proper side."

Ansel gave Madelyne a grateful look before turning back to bow to his lord. Duncan nodded, apparently satisfied with the explanation.

When Madelyne realized Duncan was about to mount Silenus, she squeezed her eyes shut, certain she was about to be hurled to the ground.

Duncan saw Madelyne close her eyes before she turned her face away from him. He shook his head, wondering what in God's name was the matter with her now, and then gained the saddle and lifted Madelyne into his lap in one swift action.

Madelyne was wrapped in his thick cloak and settled against his chest before she could worry over the deed.

"You're no better than Louddon," Madelyne muttered to herself. "Think I didn't notice that you didn't even take the time to bury your dead before you left my brother's fortress? Aye, I noticed all right. You're just as ruthless. You kill without showing any sign of remorse."

It took all of Duncan's self-discipline not to grab hold of his captive and shake some sense into her. "Madelyne, we did not bury our dead, because none of my men died."

Madelyne was so surprised by his answer, she dared a look up at him. The top of her head bumped his but she didn't pause to apologize. "There were bodies all over the ground, Duncan."

"Louddon's soldiers, Madelyne, not mine," Duncan answered.

"Do you expect me to believe that your soldiers are so superior that they—"

"I expect you to quit goading my temper, Madelyne," Duncan answered.

She knew he meant what he said when he slapped the cloak back over her head.

He was a horrible man, Madelyne decided. And he obviously didn't have a heart. Aye, he wouldn't be able to kill so effortlessly if he were gifted with human emotions.

In truth, Madelyne couldn't imagine taking another person's life. Having led such a sheltered existence with only Father Berton and his two companions left her ill prepared for the likes of Louddon or Duncan.

Madelyne had learned that humility was a treasured goal. She forced meekness in front of her brother. Inside, she raged. She prayed she didn't have a dark soul like Louddon. They did share the same father. Madelyne wanted to believe she was given only the goodness from her mother's side of the family and none of the vile traits from her father. Did she fool herself over such a hope?

She was soon too exhausted to worry. This day's journey was proving to be the most difficult to bear. Her nerves were strained to the breaking point. She heard one of the soldiers remark that they were almost home, and perhaps because she believed the end was in sight, each hour seemed much longer.

Rough, hilly terrain slowed their progress. Duncan wasn't able to keep up his usual neckbreaking pace. Several times Madelyne was certain the big stallion was going to stumble, and she spent most of the long, torturous day with her eyes closed and Duncan's arms around her. Aye, she worried herself into exhaustion, convinced that they were about to be thrown into one of the deep, jagged crevices Silenus seemed so fond of getting as close to as possible.

One of the soldiers shouted the news when they finally reached Wexton land. A resounding cheer echoed throughout the hills. Madelyne sighed with relief. She sagged against Duncan's chest and felt the tension ease out of her shoulders. She was too tired to worry over what would happen to her when she entered Duncan's home. Just getting off Silenus was blessing enough for now.

It had turned bitterly cold during the day. Madelyne was growing more and more impatient as the minutes since gaining Wexton land turned into long hours and still not a single glimpse of Duncan's fortress.

Daylight was fading when Duncan called a respite. It was Gilard who nagged him into stopping. Madelyne could tell from the harsh exchange of words that the stop wasn't to Duncan's liking. She noticed, too, that Gilard didn't seem the least offended by his brother's harsh remarks.

"Are you weaker than our captive?" Duncan asked Gilard when he had insisted on taking a few minutes to rest.

"My legs have lost all feeling," Gilard returned with a shrug.

"Lady Madelyne hasn't complained," Duncan commented after raising his hand to signal his men.

"Your captive is too frightened to say anything," Gilard scoffed. "She hides beneath your cloak and weeps against your chest."

"I think not," Duncan answered. He jerked the cloak away so that Gilard could see Madelyne's face. "See you any tears, Gilard?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

Gilard shook his head. Duncan was trying to make him feel inferior to the beautiful woman he held in his arms. He wasn't the least upset by the ploy and actually chuckled. The desire to stretch his legs and taste a bit of ale were his only concerns now. Those, and the fact that his bladder was near to bursting.

"Your captive might be too simpleminded to know fear," Gilard remarked with a grin.

Duncan wasn't amused by the remark. He dismissed Gilard with a frown fierce enough to send his brother running, and then slowly dismounted.

Duncan watched Gilard until he disappeared into the forest, and then turned back to Mad

elyne. She reached out to him for assistance, placing her hands on the curve of his broad shoulders. She even tried to smile.

Duncan didn't smile back. He took an infinitely long time getting her to the ground, however. His hands spanned her waist when he pulled her toward him, but as soon as they were eye level with each other, and just a scant space apart, he stopped.

Madelyne straightened her legs with a groan of pain she couldn't quite contain. Every muscle in her backside screamed in agony.

He had the audacity to smile over her distress.

Madelyne decided then and there that Duncan brought out the worst in her. How else could she explain this sudden, overwhelming urge to scream at him. Aye, he nudged the dark side of her character to the front. Why, she never, ever screamed at anyone. She was a gentle woman, gifted with a sweet, even-tempered disposition. Father Berton had told her that often enough.

Now this warrior tried to mock the gentleness right out of her.

Well, she wasn't going to let that happen. Duncan wasn't going to make her lose her temper now, no matter how much he grinned over her aches and pains.

She stared into his eyes, determined not to flinch this time. He was looking at her intently, as if he thought he might find an answer to some unsolved puzzle that was bothering him.

His gaze slowly lowered, until he was staring at her mouth, and she wondered over that until she realized she was staring at his.

She blushed, yet didn't know why. "Gilard is wrong. I'm not simpleminded."

His grin, damn his black soul, widened.

"You may let go of me now." She gave him what she hoped was a haughty look.

"You'll fall on your face if I do," Duncan announced.

"And would that give you pleasure?" she asked, trying her best to keep her voice as whisper-soft as his had been when he made the disgraceful comment.

Duncan shrugged and suddenly let go.

Oh, he was a horrible man all right. He knew exactly what was going to happen. Madelyne would have fallen on her backside if she hadn't grabbed hold of his arm. Her legs could not seem to remember what their duty was. "I'm not accustomed to riding for such long hours."

He didn't think she was accustomed to riding at all. Lord, she confused him. Without a doubt Lady Madelyne was the most perplexing woman he'd ever encountered. She was graceful when she walked, but could be incredibly clumsy too. She'd bumped her head against his chin so many times, he thought the top of her head must surely be bruised.

Madelyne didn't have any idea what he was thinking. But he was smiling at her and that was a worry. She was finally able to let go of him. She turned her back on him then and slowly made her way into the forest to find privacy. She knew she was moving like an old woman and prayed Duncan wasn't watching.

When she returned from the dense, wooded area, she circled the men, determined to work the aches and cramps out of her legs before she was forced back on Silenus again. She stopped when she reached the far corner of the triangular area, and stared down at the valley they'd just climbed.

Duncan didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to set out again. That didn't make sense to Madelyne, for she remembered how irritated he'd been when Gilard demanded they stop. Now he acted as though they had all the time in the world. Madelyne shook her head. Duncan of Wexton was the most confusing man she'd ever met.

She decided to be thankful for this respite. She needed a few more minutes alone to clear her mind of her worries; a few precious minutes of peaceful solitude to get her emotions under control.

The day was nearly gone, for the sun was setting now. Glorious streaks of bright orange and faded red lined the sky, arching downward, giving her the impression that they touched the ground in some distant spot. There was such beauty in the starkness of coming winter; each season held its own special treasures. Madelyne tried to ignore the noise behind her and concentrate on the beauty below, when her attention was caught by a spark of light that suddenly appeared through the trees.

The blink of light disappeared a second later. Curious, she moved to the right, until she captured the light again. Odd, but the spark seemed to come from another direction farther down the valley now.

The lights suddenly multiplied, until it appeared as if a hundred candles had all been lit at the same instant. They flickered and blinked.

The distance was great but the sun acted like a mirror, bringing the sparks closer and closer. Like fire, she thought… or metal.

She understood then. Only men wearing armor could account for such reflections.

And there were hundreds of them.

* * *

Chapter Five

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"The wicked flee when no man pursueth; but the righteous

are us bold as a lion."

old testament, proverbs, 28:1

Dear God, they were going to be attacked. Madelyne was too stunned to move. She started to tremble with fear. That infuriated her, losing her control so quickly. Madelyne threw back her shoulders, determined to think logically. She took a deep, calming breath. There, she told herself, now I can decide what to do.

Oh, how she wished she had courage. Her hands had begun to cramp and she realized she was gripping the folds of her cloak with such force, her fingers ached from the pressure.

Madelyne shook her head, praying for divine help in making up her mind.

It certainly wasn't her duty as a captive to alert Duncan to the approaching threat. She could keep silent, and as soon as the battle began, make her own escape.

That possibility was soon discarded when she realized there'd be more killing. If she told Duncan, perhaps they could hurry to leave this place. Aye, they could gain distance if they left immediately, and the battle would be denied. Wasn't saving lives more important than her own escape plans?

Madelyne made up her mind to intercede. She picked up the hem of her gown and ran in search of her captor. She thought it was ironic that she would be the one to give the warning of the coming attack.

Duncan was standing in a circle of soldiers, Gilard right beside him. Madelyne edged around the men and stopped when she was behind Duncan's back. "Baron, I would have a word with you," Madelyne interrupted. Her voice cracked with tension and held little volume. Surely that was the reason he ignored her petition. He just hadn't heard her.

"I must speak to you." Madelyne repeated her request in a much louder voice. She then dared to nudge his shoulder once.

Duncan continued to ignore her.

Madelyne nudged him again, harder.

Duncan increased his voice as he continued to speak to his men on some subject Madelyne knew had to be paltry in comparison to what she was trying to tell him.

Lord, he was stubborn. Madelyne wrung her hands together, growing more alarmed by the second, sick with worry that the soldiers climbing the hills would be upon them any moment now.

The frustration of waiting for him to acknowledge her suddenly became too much to bear. Anger took control. Utilizing every ounce of strength she possessed, she kicked him quite thoroughly. Her aim was the back of his right knee, her mark most accurate.

Madelyne realized the foolishness of her rash action when excruciating pain shot up her leg. Her toes were surely broken from the impact, and the only consolation for her self-inflicted pain was the fact that she did get his attention. Rather swiftly too. Duncan turned to her with the speed of a wolf ready to pounce.

He looked more astonished than furious. His hands were on his hips, fisted, she couldn't help but notice. Madelyne, grimacing from the pain in her toes, now found it just as painful to look directly up at his face. She turned to stare at Gilard instead, and that did ease her discomfort, for the younger brother had the most ridiculous expression on his face.

"I would like a word with you in private," Madelyne stated when she was finally able to look at Duncan again.

Duncan was curious over the worry he'd heard in her voice. He nodded, took hold of her arm, and dragged her ov

er to the other side of the camp.

Madelyne tripped twice.

He sighed once, long and drawn out it was, and she knew it was all for her benefit

Madelyne didn't care if he tried to make her feel as unimportant as a splinter under his skin. He certainly wouldn't think her interruption was a nuisance when she explained. Why, he might even be appreciative, though in her heart she doubted he was capable of that reaction.

More important, killing would be averted. That thought gave her courage to look him right in the eye. "There are men coming from the valley," she said.

She expected an immediate reaction to her statement. Yet Duncan just stared at her. He didn't show her any reaction at all.

She was forced to repeat her words. "Soldiers are coming up the hills. I could see the sun reflected from their shields. Think you should do something about it?"

Was it going to be an eternity before action was taken? Madelyne considered that possibility while she waited for Duncan to say something.

He was staring at her in the most disturbing way, his hard, angular face clearly showing his puzzlement. She thought she saw cynicism there as well, in those chilling gray eyes. Madelyne decided then that he was trying to decide if she was telling him the truth.

"I have never spoken a falsehood in my life, Baron. If you'll follow me, I'll show you that I speak the truth."

Duncan watched the lovely woman standing so proudly before him. Wide blue eyes looked up at him with such trust. Tendrils of auburn-colored hair floated across her cheeks. There was a smudge of dirt on the side of her nose, drawing his attention.

"Why do you give me this warning?" Duncan asked.

"Why? So that we could get away from here," Madelyne answered. She frowned over his bizarre question. "I don't want any more killings."

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