Текст книги "Enemy of My Enemy"
Автор книги: Carm Nicosi
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When Isabel stopped speaking, Ann, who had joined the group said, teasing her daughter, “So you had a diagram of the passages. You did not have to go along the wall with a candle, to figure out how to escape from him?”
“No, Mother. I did not have to go along the wall with a candle,” Isabel said, rolling her eyes.
William spoke up, saying, “Anyway, in the last few weeks, we have located a couple of people to confirm the paperwork. They were youths at the Castle, at the time. It has been forty-seven years, most of the people with knowledge of the events, are gone. This situation goes back to the fairly lawless times during Stephen’s rule, where family feuds were covered up as part of the civil war with Matilda. The King wanted confirmation that Niles knew he did not rightly, hold the title. I believe the goal, was to arrange a cover for Nile's death, if he were arrested. Since he decided to fight being taken into custody, and was killed, twill be a simple matter to declare you the Duke, as you should be.”
Since Isabel had pretty much disclosed her part of the story, she rose to go to her son. She lowered herself, with her back to the men, to sit on the blanket covered mat, intended to keep the babe off the cold stone floor. Nathaniel happily crawled to his mother, and she helped him pull himself up to standing. He loved to stand, though he had no balance, yet.
As she played with the affectionate nine month old, she heard one of the knights say, “Things went pretty much as planned, except...,” and he stopped.
Brant asked, “Except what?”
The knight stammered, “Except, well, except your marriage to the Lady. That seems to have gone terribly, awry.”
“Terribly awry?” Brant repeated, with a grin. “You think so?” He lowered his voice, as he leaned forward, and said, “I say again, the child stays here, and she will stay with the child. Do you doubt it?”
Brant stood up, and walked away. That matter was settled, as far as he was concerned.
A while later the knights, William and Byron, prepared to leave. Brant asked them if their business was complete, or if he should expect more of being told to cooperate? In the future, he would expect to be informed of what was going on, if they expected his cooperation. Though, he knew if they did not want to involve him, that might just get him jailed, again. William replied their business was concluded, at least as to Brant's cousin. Then, William offered the advice, that if Brant was determined to keep the Lady, he should be nice.
Chapter 18
Later, the evening meal past, fairly pleasantly. Afterward, Kate kept the conversation going, explaining how they had come here, merely to see if Nathaniel was home. They had not expected to find a cloak, and dagger situation. She then teased Isabel, about all her little secrets.
“Oh, come on, Isabel. Tell me how I get the King to send me, a couple of knights,” Kate teased.
“I am not sure how you would do it. I would just send a parchment, with my grandmother’s family crest on it, and a brief note, including who, and where,” Isabel said. “But only in an extreme emergency.”
“That is all it takes?” Kate asked.
“Well, that, and a hundred pounds from a King's ransom. That gets a pretty quick response,” Isabel answered.
“Where does one get a hundred pounds, from a King's ransom?” Kate asked in amusement.
Isabel laughed, and said, “One either has it, or they do not.”
“Oh come on. You cannot just leave me wondering,” Kate pleaded.
“Twas way too scandalous,” Isabel said. “I cannot tell you. If I did, the King would be sending someone to assassinate me, not to help me.”
Nathaniel was rubbing his eyes, to fight sleep, so Isabel said, "I think I need to get someone into bed. If you will excuse me?”
She rose to take the babe up to bed. When Brant saw his wife walking toward the stairs, he rose, and went to join her. He grasped her arm, directing her up the stairs, into his Solar.
Once there, he told her, "Just so there is no misunderstanding, you may not have the chamber across the passage. You may sleep in that bed."
Isabel laughed, and replied, "I am not sure I like that bed. It seems like, in the past, when I have slept in that bed, I have not gotten much rest, for various reasons."
"You did not appear to be having any trouble sleeping in it, this morning," Brant countered.
"That is true. I suppose I could give it another try," Isabel said.
She turned to get the babe changed for the night, before laying him down in his small bed. Nathaniel was fast asleep, in no time. Brant had left the chamber, probably to go back down to their guests. Isabel was still very tired, from the activities of the last few days, and decided to just get ready for bed. Beautrice had not been in, to see if she needed her to sit with Nathaniel, anyway.
Isabel changed into her night clothes, and was nearly asleep, when Brant returned. His movements around the room roused her, and she watched him as he added wood, to the fire on the hearth. While he removed his tunic, and folded it, he briefly paused to watch the sleeping child. Then, Brant placed the folded garment in his trunk, and walked over to the bed.
Noticing that she was still awake, as he walked to the far side of the bed, he asked, "Did it really take a year, and a half, to get Niles? It sounds like he was involved in enough reprehensible acts, to convict him much sooner."
"Mayhap, not," Isabel answered. "It took a year for me to turn one and eight, though. Besides, Niles played it pretty close to the vest. There were just a couple of his top mercenary knights, who knew of his true nature, and activities. I heard him and Avery, talking about various crimes, and plotting others, but I had not reached my majority. Therefore, I would not have been a reliable witness, in the eyes of current law, especially against a High Lord."
"So this was mostly about you?" Brant asked.
"Well, seeing that I was safe, was one big objective," Isabel said, turning toward him, as he got under the covers. "There really was very little, hard evidence against him, until he started talking last night. However, Niles was also a disgrace to his title. At least, in regard to the way he treated me, and suspicions about other women, with the alternative being you. Although, you were an improvement over him, some accounts left them wondering, if it would be a big enough, improvement."
He laughed, and pulled her toward him.
"So, they knew he was a disgrace, but they were not sure if they wanted to make me more powerful?" Brant asked.
She nodded, and replied, "There was some thought, after Nathaniel was born, that if Niles killed you, then they could arrest him, and make him vanish. That would pass the title to the child. The powers that be, decided against that, when I informed them I had grown rather fond of you, and promised to work on your character."
He noticed that Isabel was holding herself away from him. He moved to press his body against hers, and immediately, became aware of her rounded belly. Brant drew back in surprise, to run his hand over the mound.
"You still carry the babe?" Brant asked.
"Aye, My Lord," Isabel answered. "I am still carrying your little revenge. Although, in the interests of seeing that it is not so sweet for you, I do pray everyday for a girl. I think it would be highly amusing, to watch you, trying to defend a Lady's honor," she concluded, laughing.
Brant leaned forward, to place a light kiss on her lips, before saying, "You truly do have an evil bend."
"Look on the bright side. You only have a few months to worry about it," she replied, still amused.
"You would be wise to be quiet, and try to get some sleep, lest you find something other than the babe, in your belly," Brant said, with a leer.
"Aye, My Lord," Isabel said, snuggling her head against his shoulder.
Early the next morning, Brant lay in bed, watching his wife sleep. She said, ‘she told them, she had grown rather fond of him, and promised to work on his character’. That was very amusing, he thought. Before he met Isabel, the women in his life, had always been subservient to him. It never mattered what they thought, or said, he made the rules, and decisions. If any of them, ever told him what they really thought, he certainly was not listening. Laying down the law with Isabel, was a situation where, if she disagreed, things could get ugly. She was praying his revenge, was a girl. Last night when she said, she supposed she could give his bed one more try, he had to leave, to avoid rolling on the floor, laughing. How many women had thrown themselves at him, hoping to get into his bed? He should be angry with her for vanishing, for the past many months. Instead, he was relieved that she was here, and safe. Since Isabel invaded his life, everything had changed. The lewd tarts he had amused himself with, no longer held any interest for him. They just were not her. Somehow, Isabel had stolen his heart. Her, and her supporters, decided Brant was going to wed her, and he had. He did not know what anyone else was planning, but he intended to do everything in his power, to keep her.
Brant heard Nathaniel chattering, over in his bed. The child had begun the day yesterday, with similar, unintelligible sounds. Soon the little boy’s head popped up, as he climbed into a nearly sitting position. Brant eased himself out of the bed, and went to the child. His bottom was wet, just like yesterday, only then, Beatrice had been there to see to him. He changed the babe, as he had seen his wife do, and thought it was not a bad effort, for his first attempt.
Brant carried Nathaniel to the bed, and laid down. The boy immediately crawled over to chatter, and pat his mother’s face. When her eyes opened, he squealed in delight, making his father laugh. In response to Brant’s laughter, the little boy crawled over, and raised himself on his knees, with his hands on his father’s chest.
Isabel mumbled sleepily, “You know, I think he likes you. Though I cannot be sure, since I do not understand that language he speaks.”
She propped her head on an elbow, as her son went through another string of happy gibberish.
There was a light knock on the door, and in response to Brant’s command, Beautrice opened the door. As she took in the scene, the serf gave a dower, almost disapproving look, to the occupants in the bed.
“I was wondering, if ye need any help with the lad, Me Lord?” the serf asked.
“Nay, Beautrice. I think his sire has it under control,” Isabel said, smiling. “We should be down for breakfast soon.”
Beautrice stood there for a few seconds, eyeing Isabel, before saying, “Very well, Me Lady. I will be going down to eat, then.”
She withdrew closing the door.
“I suppose, I had better get dressed, before she comes back, to glower,” Isabel said.
She rose, and went to her trunk for clothes. She proceeded to go through the gowns in the trunk, one by one.
“Not that,” Isabel said. “Certainly, not that.”
Brant, who had come up behind her, said, “I always liked you in that blue one. Why not that?”
She rolled her eyes, and answered, “The straight style makes me look like I am ready to pop. Of course, in a matter of weeks, I am going to look like I am ready to pop, in all of them. I wonder what you are going to think, of your revenge, when I am waddling around, as graceful as a cow.”
Brant let out a hearty laugh, and commented, “For some reason, that thought makes me want to take you back to bed.”
“And you, were calling me evil?” Isabel asked.
Over the next few weeks, Isabel settled in, to await the arrival of her second child. Robert and Kate, had stayed several days, before returning home. Isabel wished they had stayed longer, as Kate had been something of a deterrent, to Ann lecturing her daughter. She was quite certain, that Isabel had lost her mind, in allowing the pregnancy to continue. Her marriage to Brant needed to end, just as they had planned from the start. Because Isabel was expecting, she had no choice but to remain with him, until the babe was born. That was only delaying the inevitable, according to Ann, and keeping Isabel from getting on with her life. So it was a welcome relief, about a week after Robert and Kate left, when Ann departed.
Brant had to go deal with the properties, that passed to him, upon Niles' death. He had held two fiefs, that were not part of the estate of the Duke. One of them, was to be the dower property for Penelope, Niles' sister. Both would now go to her, upon her marriage.
Penelope was a score years old, and wanted to wed the eldest son of a nearby Lord. Niles had opposed the match, claiming her beau was beneath her. The sister felt, that Niles had not wanted to lose control of her income, as he was a very poor manager, of his lands. Brant made inquiries, and met with the young man. He decided that Penelope was likely right. Niles had delayed what was a suitable match, for his own benefit, so Brant approved the betrothal. He had come home for a few weeks. Then, he had to leave for several more days, to escort Penelope to her future in-laws, for the wedding.
As soon as Brant realized, that Isabel was still carrying their second child, Beautrice and Rosamund, were instructed that she was not to carry Nathaniel up, or down, the stairs. They were to see to that. When he was with her, Brant carried the child.
However, the biggest change occurred, within a few days of her return, to Brant's Castle. After she had put Nathaniel in bed, she went to change into her night clothes, but was a little uncomfortable with her growing belly, since Brant had stayed there. Isabel had put her gunna in her trunk, and was wearing only a thin chemise, when her husband picked her up, to carry her to the bed. Brant had finished undressing her, as he proceeded to remind her, there was at least one thing, they always did really well together.
Isabel was little disconcerted, by his actions. She half wondered, if this was his idea of a punishment. Twas difficult for her to believe, he could desire her distended figure. Yet, afterward he had turned her away from him, and held her gently, with her back against his chest. Not that she minded, that had always been good between them. After that night, she found herself subject to a repeat of his actions, every few days, when he was home. Being honest with herself, Isabel knew she needed the intimacy with him, to reassure her. No matter what her mother said, this was her life. She was wed to Brant, she had a son Nathaniel, and she would have her second child with her husband, in a few months.
Throughout her sixth month, and well into her seventh, Isabel fell asleep most nights, in her husband’s arms. Frequently, she awoke in the morning, with her back still pressed to Brant's chest. Many times, she discovered his hand resting on the babe, feeling for its movements. All of which, made her feel ever more tightly bound to him. She was his wife. The babe that grew in her, was his. There really was no way to separate herself, from him.
Isabel was more than agreeable with that, except for her mother. Before Ann left, she had expressed her continued opposition, to Brant and Isabel’s marriage. Ann was insistent, that if Brant thought he could keep Isabel wed to him, by demanding that the child stay there, he was a fool. She would not allow her daughter to remain wed to a man, who was at least in part, responsible for the death of Isabel’s father. Avery and Niles, were dead. That left only Brant, who had to pay in Ann’s mind.
She knew her mother could not force them to set aside the marriage. However, Isabel also knew her mother. Lady Ann was not likely to give up on getting what she wanted, until she got it, or there was no reasonable means, for her to get her way. Particularly, when in her mind, Isabel was just an innocent young girl, being influenced by a man who was nearly ten years her senior. While her daughter was with child, she might not be able to do anything about it. However, once the babe was born, Ann believed she need only remove Isabel from Brant’s control, and the girl would realize she had been a fool.
Whereas the girl, was quite well aware of the fact that her marriage not being the short, temporary arrangement, that had been envisioned, was squarely Isabel’s doing. From her encounter with Niles, she had expected his cousin to be some dandified imbecile, she could ignore. After watching Brant fight with the four guards present at their wedding, she had somehow found herself fascinated with his body. Rosamund, or several other serfs, could have gone to tend to his wounds, but she wanted a better look at him. When he did not recognize her dressed as a serf, she had been certain he never looked at her during their wedding, so she could safely go back. Robert had said, Brant amused his physical pleasures with lewd tarts, pretty exclusively. An innocent young girl should be safe, she had thought. When that was not the case, she had just rationalized they were wed, he had a right. With a wry smile, Isabel wondered what her mother would say, if she told her it was not Brant’s influence, but Isabel's lust, that had gotten her where she was.
Chapter 19
As Isabel approached her eighth month, early in February, Rosamund was returned to help the Lady. Beatrice was given the care of Hannah. Going from caring for the Lord’s son, to caring for the Lord’s, stepmother’s, daughter, was a change she viewed as a big insult. Shortly after that, Rachel arrived. She was ostensibly to replace Cora, who was surprisingly with child, and was marrying Angus. As Angus was one of Isabel’s Knights, the couple would be going to Kellanhym Castle, her stronghold, to live. However, Isabel noted that Cora’s replacement, Rachel, seemed much more interested in flirting with Brant, than working at the Castle.
Isabel’s annoyance with Rachel had reached the boiling point, by late in February. She was supposed to be assisting Brant with his bath, as his wife was not allowed to lift the heavy buckets of water, to rinse his hair. From the bedchamber, where she was keeping Nathaniel amused and out of trouble, Isabel could hear the serf, telling her husband what a fine looking man he was. Twas clear to her, that if Brant wanted a diversion from his wife’s heavily burdened form, he need not look to find it. With no more than three, or four weeks, before their second babe would arrive, Isabel was both uncomfortable, and irritable.
When Brant came in from the antechamber, after dismissing the slim, obviously willing young serf, Isabel said irritably, “Mayhap, you should reconsider letting me take the room across the passage. Then, Rachel would not have to hold back. She could just climb in the bath with you.”
“Jealous, Alisa?” Brant asked, laughing.
“Do you think I should be pleased, listening to some trim young girl fawn over you, while you have me looking like I swallowed a roast boar, whole?” she responded.
Brant laughed heartily, letting his eyes roam over her.
“The girl certainly does have a trimmer figure than you, right now,” he replied, picking up Nathaniel. “However, I find there are very desirable benefits, to having you look like you ‘swallowed a roast boar whole’. Besides, you did want to be my wife, right? Something tells me, if you were sitting here thin, and trim, and she was waddling, that is what you said right, you would be in an even fouler mood.”
“She is just so blatantly obvious. She knew full well, I was in here with the babe. I am miserable enough, without having to listen to her throw herself at you,” Isabel lamented.
“Twill only be a few more weeks,” Brant said. “Then, hopefully, we will have another child just like this little lad.”
He motioned to Nathaniel, who was rubbing his eyes sleepily, cradled in his father’s arms.
“I am giving you a daughter, remember?” Isabel asked, smiling.
“If you must,” he replied, as a knock sounded at the door.
On Brant’s order, Rosamund entered to get Nathaniel ready for bed.
Nathaniel had his first birthday, on the 27th of February. Twas two weeks later, when Isabel found herself feeling extremely uncomfortable, with a backache, and no appetite, at the evening meal. As soon as the meal was over, she asked Brant to help her upstairs, to rest. However, lying down seemed to increase the pain in her back, so she rose to sit by the hearth. After a short time, she realized sitting was not helping, either, so she tried standing. She walked slowly around the room, which reduced the pain, a little. Brant who had stayed with her, was asking for the tenth time, ‘is it the babe’, when she felt a slight tightening in her abdomen.
“Mayhap. I am not sure,” she answered.
As she continued her slow pacing around the chamber, Brant said, “If it might be the babe, don’t you think you should lay down?”
There was a knock at the portal, and on command, Rosamund entered with Nathaniel.
When she saw Isabel walking around, she asked, “Shouldn’t ye be laying down?”
Brant laughed. Isabel glared at him.
“Laying down was hurting my back, really bad. Sitting was not much better. Walking seems to help somewhat,” she explained.
“Ye had a backache with ‘im, remember?” Rosamund asked. “Ye will likely need the midwife, soon.”
She crossed the room to change Nathaniel, into his night clothes.
Isabel felt the muscles tighten in her belly, again, as she went to kiss her son goodnight. However, she said nothing to the others. Even if it was the babe, it took forever for the first one, she reasoned.
“Should I have Beautrice take ‘im into Hannah’s room, tonight? Just in case ye are, going to ‘ave the new babe,” Rosamund asked.
At Brant’s nod, she picked the boy up to exit. Isabel continued to make laps around the chamber, while her husband watched. After several more slow laps, he went to her side, and placed an arm around her waist.
He said, “I really think you should lie down, Isabel.”
Isabel replied, “Even if I am going to have the babe, it will probably be hours, yet. Nathaniel took about twenty hours. I am sure, I will have plenty of time, to lie down, later.”
A short while later, Rosamund returned to watch Isabel make a few more laps around the chamber. Suddenly, she stopped and passed her hand over her abdomen, when a more painful contraction came. As the pain passed, she felt liquid rush down her legs.
“I believe, I am going to need the midwife. Oh, and a dry gown,” Isabel said.
Rosamund hurried out of the chamber. Brant tried to pick his wife up, to carry her to the bed.
But Isabel said, “Brant, I need a dry gown from my trunk.”
He quickly went to get the gown. Isabel was undoing the laces on the wet gunna she wore. Her husband lifted the wet clothes up over her head. Dropping them to the floor, he put the fresh one over her head. Once she was changed, he carried her to the bed.
When Rosamund returned, she brought two other serfs with her. Brant lifted Isabel up, so they could place several layers of clean linen under her. Laying down was, once again, causing the back pain to increase, so she tried to stack the pillows up under her head and shoulders. As Brant tried to help, a stronger pain assailed her, and she grasped his arm tightly, causing him to wince. As soon as her grasp relaxed, he took her hand in his, so she did not crush his forearm, further.
Rosamund noticing, smiled and said, “Mayhap, ye would like to go down, and get something to drink, Me Lord. This could take hours.”
Isabel interjected, “Let him stay. Mayhap later, I can remind him how this is all his fault.” Then looking at him, she asked, “You want to see your daughter born, right?”
He looked at his wife, trying to fathom what she was about. 'His daughter' was of course, a reference to his revenge going awry. However, Isabel had a firm grip on his hand. If her actions matched her words, he would have to pull his hand from her grasp, to leave.
So he answered, "Of course, I want to see my daughter born."
Brant sat on the edge of the bed for several hours, with Isabel painfully squeezing his hand every few minutes, as the painful contractions came, and went. The mid wife had not arrived yet, though it should take less than a hour to ride to the village to get her. The other women kept reminding Isabel, how to breath through the contractions, which were very close together, by that time. In between, she seemed to be focused, on tiredly watching her husband.
Finally, the midwife arrived looking exhausted. She had been visiting at a hut outside of the village. She quickly rinsed her hands, in some water that had been boiled over the hearth, to sterilize it.
"I need to check, to see how ye are doing," she told Isabel. Then, a short time later, "It is not going to be much longer. Are you sure, ye do not want to go ‘ave something to drink, Me Lord?"
This last comment, she directed to Brant, looking uncomfortable, with having him there.
Isabel answered, "No, he wants to stay."
Brant really thought, he wanted to get something to drink. Watching her writhe in pain was getting to him. However, since Isabel seemed to want him there with her, he was staying.
After another half hour or so, of Isabel crushing her husband’s hand, the midwife said, "When the next one comes, ye need to push, alright?"
Not long after that, the babe’s first cries were heard. Brant looked to the midwife, who silently mouthed that the babe was a boy.
Isabel asked, "Is it a girl?"
Brant smiled at her, and said, "You got just what you wanted."
She returned his smile weakly, then closed her eyes. Rosamund cleaned the newborn up, and wrapped a soft blanket around him. Then, she carried the infant over, for the mother and father, to get their first look at the new addition, to their family. Isabel held out her arms and took the babe, for a short while. Then, feeling quite exhausted, handed the infant back to the serf. Within minutes, she had fallen asleep.
Isabel woke to the infant’s cries, the next morning. Her husband was sleeping on top of the blankets, fully dressed, beside her. When Rosamund, who was trying to quiet the infant, saw that Isabel was awake, she carried the babe over to her.
As the new mother took the infant from the serf, Rosamund said, "He is probably hungry. Do ye know what ye are going to name ‘im, yet?"
Isabel asked in surprise, "He? A boy? Brant said..."
She stopped, looking at her sleeping husband. Untying the laces on her gown, she moved the infant to her breast.
"I washed ‘im up, and dressed ‘im. The babe is a lad," Rosamund said. “What was this girl thing? Was that what ye wanted?" Isabel just shrugged noncommittally, so the serf continued, “Would ye like me to go get ye something to eat? I am sure, Nora will be happy to make ye a tray."
"Aye. Go have breakfast yourself, too," Isabel said.
The serf nodded, and left the room.
Isabel moved a foot under the covers, to tap one of her husband’s legs. At first she got no response from him, but in a short time, he opened his eyes. As he stretched, and rubbed his eyes, he looked at her as if to say, 'is there some reason you're waking me up?'
“Rosamund went to get something to eat, and have someone bring us a tray," Isabel began. "However, before she left, she assured me this babe in my arms, is definitely a boy." She paused, watching as Brant smiled at her. “I seem to recall asking, if the babe was a girl. You said I got just what I wanted. Would that be confusion, My Lord, or just a lie?"
He raised himself up on an elbow, smiling, as he looked at his wife and child.
After a few moments, he answered, “The babe looks to be healthy. You wanted a healthy child, did you not?” When she glared at him, he continued, “I did not want you to be disappointed with the child, right from the start. Just look at that little face. Besides, you still had a firm grip on my hand, and I did not want to risk it being crushed, anymore. I might never be able to wield my sword properly, again. Then, how would I protect you and the lads?”
As he finished speaking, he gave her a mischievous grin.
“I crushed your hand? Do you think it is badly injured?” she asked, with feigned concern.
“Actually, I think my hand will recover,” he said, sitting up close to her. “Though, my arm may be permanently bruised.”
He turned his arm to display three small marks, one partly edged with a crescent shaped gouge, where someone had squeezed very hard.
Isabel laughed, and replied, “Oh my. Mayhap...”
She was cut off, when a knock sounded on the door. In response to Brant’s command, the door opened. A serf entered with a tray of food, followed by Beautrice, with Nathaniel and Hannah.
“Nathaniel wants ‘is mother, I think. He ‘as been fussy. Hannah wanted to see the babe,” Beatrice said.
Isabel had tried to nurse the infant, but he had fallen asleep. She let the little girl see the babe a few minutes, then when Rosamund returned, Beautrice took Hannah downstairs. Rosamund laid the sleeping infant in the cradle, near the hearth.
The parents, with a little help from their eldest son, tried the food from the tray that had been brought in, until Nathaniel laid down between them, to nap. After a short discussion, it was decided that the infant would be named Eric, after his grandfather. With that decision made, Brant moved the tray to the table, in the antechamber. Then, he went to look at the infant in the cradle for a minute more, before going down to the hall. A short time later, Isabel was sound asleep, beside Nathaniel.
Brant returned to the Solar, less than an hour later. He had gone down to the hall, to have a couple of tankards of ale, with his knights. They all congratulated him, on the birth of his second son. Once back in the chamber, he sat at the edge of the bed, watching the woman and lad, who lay there asleep.
Two years ago at this time, he had been planning an attack on one of Avery's Castles, which he had undertaken in April, of that year. Back then, he would occasionally think, about someday marrying and having children. Within a couple of weeks of his success, in gaining control of that Castle, the woman sleeping before him, had forced her way into his life.
