“Aye, he is.”
“Why?”
It was she who came to a halt. She looked up at him curiously. “What do you mean, ‘why’?”
He lifted his huge shoulders. “Just that. Why is he at odds with the king?”
She looked more closely at him, realizing that it wasn’t a surly or foolish question. Something about his expression told her that he really wanted to know. How could he not know? She spoke before she could stop herself.
“Are you serious?”
He snorted, a grin on his lips. “Aye.”
Now she wasn’t sure if he was teasing her. “You are a soldier, Brogan. How could you not know this? Surely you must.”
His smile faded. He almost looked embarrassed. “I am infantry. I am told who I must fight and not always why I must fight them. I do what I am told. It is not my business to know politics.”
It was coming to occur to Avalyn that Brogan wasn’t toying with her. The manner in which he spoke and the things he said did not suggest a highly knowledgeable or politically savvy individual. In fact, he came across as something of a simple man. Not stupid, but very uncomplicated and direct. She suspected the knights he spoke of, the king’s knights, liked him that way. There would be nothing worse than an educated killing machine forming his own opinions that could quite possibly go against their own.
“Politics is an ugly affair,” she said after a moment, her voice gentler. She felt pity for the man. “My uncle used to be an ally of the king; very much so. In fact, he was instrumental in putting Edward on the throne about nine years ago. I remember the time; I was very young, but I still remember the excitement and violence of it. But my uncle and the king eventually had a falling out, as sometimes happens, and now they are at odds. My uncle believes that Henry should sit upon the throne, not Edward.”
Brogan nodded seriously, absorbing every word. “Why did he argue with the king?”
Why indeed, Avalyn thought. There were so many reasons, the least of which was the fact that the king was reluctant to wed his brothers to her young cousins, Anne and Isobel. That in particular seemed to greatly anger her uncle, but he had found a way around that. He believed he very much deserved ties to the royal family. She gazed up into Brogan’s curious face, searchingfor an answer that would not give him too much information. If the man was indeed deeply clever and this was all a ruse to get her to talk, then she would have to be very careful about what she said.
“Who knows why men truly argue?” she said with a weak smile. “A wrong word, a disagreement over what wine to serve with dinner; who truly knows? They used to be friends, and very good ones. But times have changed.”
Brogan seemed to accept that explanation. His deep blue eyes flickered thoughtfully. “If they are enemies, why is he here at the Tower? This is the king’s residence.”
She smiled ironically. “We are here because my uncle has business with the king’s brother. Moreover, the king is not in residence at this time. He is in the north. We will be leaving in a day or two to return to Warwick Castle just to make sure we don’t bump into the king upon his return.”
Brogan got the strangest look on his face. “You are leaving?”
She nodded. “We must return home.”
“Then I shall not see you again.”
She suddenly realized what he was saying. She thought perhaps the idea bothered him as much as it strangely bothered her.
“That is difficult to say. We return to the Tower now and again. It is quite possible you will see me at some point.”
His brow was furrowed as he thought on that. It flattered her to think that he was not fond of the idea that she was leaving. For lack of a better response, she patted his hand.
“But I am not leaving for at least a day,” she tried to sound positive, though she was unsure why this man should be distressed with her leaving. Unless he was becoming as curious and enamored with her as she was with him. “Until then, perhaps we may spend more time becoming acquainted.I am glad to have made a new friend in spite of the bizarre circumstances of our meeting.”
A bashful smile spread across his lips. It was a charming gesture, reminding Avalyn of a bashful young boy with his first taste of female companionship.
“I do not have any friends,” he admitted.
She thought he was exaggerating and feigned shock. “I do not believe that for one moment. St. Alban seems very fond of you. And those women…”
His smile vanished. “Those women are whores. I’ve not gone near them since they came to live in the barracks and, God willing, I never will. They are not my friends.”
He was deadly serious and she realized she had overstepped her bounds. “I am sorry,” she said sincerely. “I did not mean to offend you. I simply meant that surely a man as pleasant as you must have many friends.”
His eyes widened. Then, his mouth opened up and great guffaws burst forth. He had a full set of even, white teeth, giving him a strikingly handsome appearance. The laughter just made it all the more attractive. Avalyn’s heart did a strange little dance in her chest as she watched him laugh.
“I have never heard anyone say that I am pleasant,” he snorted. “Have you never heard of Brogan d’Aurilliac, my lady? I am the man who can crush with a look, cast death with the wave of my hand, and send men fleeing in terror with just one word. They call me the Monster. I have no friends because everyone is afraid of me. I mean them to be.”
