Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,136

prince had called him without derision, and once his fellow warriors in training were comfortable with royalty in their midst, they had adopted that form of address as well.

The only one who named him that with a smile, and it was good he did so rarely, was Ingvar who believed he was Vitalis’s closest friend. He was not. Nicola was first, followed by Guarin and Hawisa, but then came Ingvar. The Dane was no Zedekiah, but he was a good and faithful man.

“Did you read the missive in its entirety?” Nicola asked.

He felt craven for not doing so, having cast it aside when pain and anger loosed a shout that resounded around the hall. And he felt halfwitted for not being better prepared for the missive’s contents, so obvious was Eberhard’s misery. He and Richard had been good friends—close enough the prince had asked the younger man to accompany him to court.

Eberhard having left Vitalis to his raging, doubtless it was he who summoned Nicola to the hall.

Were this Stern Castle of four years past, she would have herself heard something was horribly amiss, but the year after they wed, Guarin and Hawisa had made the difficult decision for Wulfen Castle to become exclusive to males who were too distracted by women—Nicola, especially—and babes.

Thus, Stern’s size was increased to accommodate wives and little ones whose husbands visited as often as possible. It was not often enough for any, but they held close their blessings—and Nicola the brooch Vitalis unfastened from his mantle and affixed to her bodice each time he departed.

“Did you read all the missive?” his wife asked again.

He shook his head.

“I shall read it to you.” She started to rise to retrieve it.

“Nay, Nicola.” He eased her down on the bench beside him. “It will suffice to tell me the rest.”

She nodded. “After the ill tidings, good tidings for which long we have prayed. William told that, as evidenced by the prince’s training, it would be criminal for the firstborn son of Vitalis Boursier to be raised into a man anywhere other than Wulfen.” Her lips curved. “Our boy will not be taken from us too soon—indeed, not at all.”

Salve. Much salve. It would not soon heal the ache of losing Richard, but sooner. Though he and Nicola had not regretted beginning their family, ever they felt the threat of the means by which William could ensure loyalty to him.

“He hurts over the loss of his son,” Vitalis said, “and surely more for insisting the prince attend him at court, and yet he does not fall to bitterness and strike out at us.” Which he might have done, Vitalis thought. As pleased as William had been with Richard’s progress, the cost of it was jealousy over his son’s bond with his trainer.

It was one thing for William to have seen it when he paused at Wulfen once and twice a year, another to have it cast in his face as done two years past when father and son argued and Richard claimed Vitalis was a better father to him.

“Now that rebellion is at an end,” Nicola said, “he can think and see more clearly.”

It was true. The last great uprising had been at Ely months after the Danes once more broke faith with the Saxon rebels. Though Hereward had put up a good fight, once more William prevailed.

Nicola scooted nearer her husband, set a hand atop his, and slid her fingers between his. “And what he sees is that my husband is, indeed, The Boursier.”

He would have smiled were Richard’s death not so deeply felt.

“Should I tell the rest of William’s words?”

“Aye.”

“He is to send funds to Wulfen Castle so it may train England’s defenders in greater numbers.”

Vitalis grunted. “Because of the Danes.”

“Aye. He finds merit in the rumors they prepare for another attack and believes if they do not come again this year or next, it will not be long thereafter.”

“As feared, reprieve only,” Vitalis murmured. If not for what had befallen the majority who returned to Denmark with the king’s coin and riches stolen from East Anglia—most notably Peterborough’s treasures—sooner they would have struck again. Their losses had been devastating, not only because of the great number of warriors and ships taken by the angry sea, but most of the ill-gotten gains were with the dead.

Many believed it God’s punishment, especially William who further interpreted it as proof the Lord was with him. Then there was more proof of God’s alliance given by Daryl, whose own