Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,65

and you in the boat ere we docked?”

She had thought him unaware of their exchange. Seeing no harm—perhaps even advantage—in revealing what the warrior had said, she moistened her lips. “He spoke as if death was nigh, and when I told him not to yield, said he accepted what came. And…”

“And?”

Should she reveal Zedekiah named her Vitalis’s vixen? Deciding against it, she said, “He asked me to stay your side regardless of your anger, even if you faulted me for what he believed more you would fault yourself. He said I was to hold you to your word to return me to Hawisa.”

“And the rest?”

“He believed the Lady and Lord of Wulfen would aid you in reclaiming your life.”

Vitalis released her and crossed to the fire. After turning the spit, revealing the bottom side of the meat had charred, he settled on a log. “I believe you and I make progress, Nicola.”

Then what she had revealed of Zedekiah caused him to rethink his plans? Their kiss had changed things? Fiercely hoping he would not disappoint, she said, “What progress?”

He nearly smiled. “Stubborn Saxon—far preferable to Saxon pig.”

Disappointment then.

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you guess my response when a wee Norman woman sprang from beneath Stern’s portcullis, named me a swine, and threatened to slay me should her brother die?”

“Doubtless, you laughed. And more so when the men-at-arms snatched me back.”

“I may have laughed, but what I thought was very much I would like to see the silvery-haired termagant try to make good her threat and humored myself by concluding death at the hand of a fiery maiden was far better than death by blade at Stamford Bridge or Hastings.”

Nicola glanced at the meat whose pale underside would soon turn golden like those places in Vitalis’s eyes, then brown like the dark of them.

Though she knew it best to sit opposite while they waited for their meal to finish cooking, she lowered beside him, only distant enough it would require the reach of an arm to touch him.

“How did you survive the battle at Stamford Bridge as well as Hastings, Vitalis?”

It seemed an innocent question, but there was no mistaking he did not like the answer he gave. “I fought at neither.”

If he hoped to render her visibly surprised, she did not disappoint.

“Aye,” he said, “at Stamford I should have been at the side of Lady Hawisa’s first husband. Had I, perhaps he would have lived, and again I would have battled alongside him at Hastings. I am here today because I sustained an injury before my liege rode North to aid King Harold in beating back the Norwegians who, the same as your William, sought to pluck the crown from my king’s head.”

“What was your injury?”

Recalling that day, Vitalis said, “It was done my sword arm at practice when Wulfen’s foremost trainer, Jaxon—” Seeing understanding on her face, he inclined his head. “Aye, the same. He sought to demonstrate a new technique and ordered me to assist. We sparred, and I watched for what he meant to spring upon me, but though he worked much trickery in trying to catch me unawares, I turned aside every stroke and delivered my own. I could see I frustrated the one who had taught me much, but I refused to be falsely bested since it would reflect as poorly on him as me. He conceded the technique needed refining and lowered his sword. Since it was only practice, I did the same. Then he swung again. As I bled before all, he proclaimed that though such a technique was dishonorable, it should be used against enemies given to attacking from out of the shadows.”

“Enemies like him,” Nicola spat. “Deceitful even then, and a coward.”

“Since I admired him, it was a struggle to believe that,” Vitalis said, “but there was something he wanted more than my admiration. The following morn, it was his son who rode at our lord’s side to Stamford, and I was relegated to delivering Lady Hawisa south lest the Norwegians could not be stopped.”

“Jaxon wished his son the honor and glory of fighting alongside Hawisa’s husband,” Nicola also saw what the lady’s first husband—far different from Guarin—had not seen, accepting Vitalis’s injury as the unfortunate incident Jaxon named it.

“Though King Harold won that battle, many were his losses,” Vitalis continued, “including Hawisa’s husband and Jaxon’s son. I might have perished as well had I been there, though I prefer to believe I would also have fought at Hastings when William