Page 212

The knights charged at him, throwing up their visors to greet their former captain properly.

“Baron!” Michael roared. “ ’Tis about time you showed up!”

William raised his hand in greeting, a moment’s hesitation before raising his faceplate. He was sure they knew of his injury, but he found he was almost apprehensive of their reaction to his appearance. But raise the faceplate he did, smiling wearily at his men.

They were grinning openly back at him, their horses snorting and dancing in the heat of excitement. Ranulf steered his big animal next to William, peering at him.

“So that’s what you look like now?” he said, examining the eye patch. “Christ, you look fearsome with that thing. It suits you.”

The others agreed heartily. William, embarrassed, waved them off. “Where is Paris?”

“Inside the keep, my lord,” Ranulf answered, his face suddenly grim. “We lost Lewis two days ago. And Adam….”

“What about Adam?” William demanded.

“He killed his brother,” Ranulf said as quietly as a battle would allow. “He has confined himself to his rooms and prays for death.”

William gazed up at the turrets of Northwood. “Damn,” he mumbled, but came around again and waved his gloved hand toward the north. “You men help Kieran chase these bastards back the way they came. After I see Paris, I will join you.”

“Aye, my lord,” they answered, spurring their destriers on.

William was reining his horse toward the open outer gate when he suddenly heard his name. He turned to see that Michael had stopped his nervous horse and was still looking at him.

“ ’Tis good to have The Wolf back,” Michael said.

William cocked an eyebrow, trying to remain stoic, but cracked a smile in spite of himself.

“ ’Tis good to be back,” he said shortly, spurring his animal for the outer bailey.

The outer bailey was in shambles, as he knew it would be. In fact, it didn’t even resemble the bailey he once knew. He caught sight of Deinwald as he galloped through, hearing the man shouting orders to the new English troops that were now mounting the walls. Confident that the bailey was well taken care of, he did not pause on his way into the inner bailey. He was eager to see Paris.

Paris was waiting for him, standing on the steps that led into the keep. Other than a huge smile, he did not acknowledge William in any other way as the man came to an abrupt halt in front of him and bailed from his horse.

“Dammit, man,” William said as he pretended to be angry. “I leave you in charge of my fortress and this is what happens? I should run you through.”

Paris feigned a scowl at the insult. “We had the Scots well under control, baron,” he returned. “We had simply permitted them space in the outer bailey to refresh their troops whilst they pounded us.”

William ripped off his helmet, his smile warm. Paris immediately came to terms with the face of the new William and instantly decided it was better than the old one. This William was somehow more human, yet more invincible than ever. ’Twas difficult to put the change into words, but he knew it was a positive one.

They extended their gauntleted hands simultaneously, gripping each other in a greeting of complete friendship and relief and happiness. Then they hugged each other, tightly. Their smiles spoke volumes.

“I never thought I would be so happy to see anyone, least of all you,” Paris remarked.

William chuckled. “Nor I.”

Paris still held onto his friend. “Am I to assume you are a father at last?”

William nodded, letting go of Paris’ glove and removing his gauntlet, wiping at his brow. “Aye, nearly two weeks ago. Twin boys.”

“Twin boys?” Paris repeated incredulously. “My God, William, do you always have to outshine everyone? And how is their beautiful mother?”

“Beautiful and perfect.” William’s face softened into the expression Paris equated with Jordan. “But she had the gall to name one of my sons after you, of which I strongly disapproved.”

“Me?” Paris looked incredulous.

“Aye, you,” William tried to look angry. “One son is blond, like her, and the other is darker as I am. She chose to name that dark son after you. Troy, she calls him.”

“Troy,” Paris grinned in pure delight. “A wonderful name. It looks as if all that back-rubbing I did for her paid off.”