“Nay, truly, she was just verra tired. ’Tis a verra long ride from Dubheidland to here.”
“Did ye hit her?” demanded Adelar as he stepped up behind Michel, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. “When I saw the bruises I thought it was from the injuries she got when we had to jump from the ship, but then I got to thinking and realized the bruises she has now are too fresh.”
“None of my lads would e’er strike a lass,” snapped Sir Fingal.
Brian held up a hand to silence his family’s outrage and met Adelar’s steady stare. “Nay, I would ne’er strike a lass, especially Arianna. I fear she was briefly a prisoner in your uncle’s hands.” He nodded when both boys winced, revealing that they had tasted some of Lord Amiel Lucette’s cruelty during their short lives. “She is healing nicely but still needs a lot of rest.”
“Aye, I see. Thank ye for saving her, sir.”
Brian watched as Michel and Adelar returned to their table and then he looked at his family. “The reason for all of this lies in just exactly whom those two lads really are.”
“Agreed,” said Ewan, “but wouldnae the lass have told ye if they were more than just the sons of some bastard-born village lass and the laird?”
“They are but wee lads. They may have nay seen the importance of who fathered their mother. Aye, especially when that mother had as little to do with them as possible. They may have also heard how many scoffed at the tales of her birth.”
“Anyone ask them about it?” demanded Sir Fingal, and he grunted in irritation when Brian just stared at him. “Michel and Adelar, do ye ken who your grandsire was?” he yelled at the boys.
“The lord and lady of Champier, the Lucettes,” replied Adelar.
“Nay, I mean your mother’s sire. Did she tell ye who sired her? Did he claim her?”
“Maman said it was the king’s first cousin and that he may nay have openly claimed her, but there was a record of her birth and who sired her. She didnae tell us his name, though.”
The great hall became so silent the boys began to grow nervous. Brian glared at everyone and gave a sharp nod toward the boys, making everyone aware of the effect the silence had on the two children. It was enough to ease some of the tense silence and he watched both boys begin to relax.
“Adelar, does Arianna ken that?” he asked the boy.
“I dinnae think so. Maman liked to boast that her papa had given her noble blood, but she told us we must ne’er say whose blood it was. She ne’er did. Weel, she only told Papa.”
“Then we shall continue to hold it secret.”
Both boys nodded and relaxed. Brian wished he could so easily shrug aside the tension gripping him. He talked to the boys while Ewan signaled the children’s nursemaids that it was time for the young ones to go to bed. The moment all of the children were gone from the great hall, Brian finished off his ale and poured himself another full tankard of the strong brew. He was not surprised to look up and find everyone in the great hall now staring at him.
“Weel, I think we ken the reason for the gathering army now,” said Brian.
“They dinnae mean to kill those lads,” said Sir Fingal.
“Lucette does. If he kens this he cannae do anything else for there’s a verra good chance the boy’s grandsire will use the blood connection to grab all Claud left for his grandsons.”
“Lucette will probably be killed by his own allies if he tries.”
“Da, they sunk a ship the lads were on. Doesnae that prove that they want the boys dead?”
“That may have been a hasty judgment. Or, that Lucette did it whilst the others slept. Mark me, if they did try to kill them, now they want the lads for a different reason.” Sir Fingal frowned as he thought it all through. “Or, there is something that noble gave his daughter, something the lads now hold, that those DeVeaux want.”
“And probably havenae let Lucette ken anything about,” Brian murmured, seeing the logic in that.
“It doesnae matter,” said Fiona, drawing everyone’s attention her way. “Two wee lads are in danger. That is all that should concern us. Let us end the threat to them first and then we can talk about what their blood kinship matters. I am nay sure it matters at all anyway.”
“Nay?” Brian grimaced. “Anyone related to a royal is naught but trouble.”
“Those lads are sweet, weel mannered, and show great promise. They are nay trouble.”
“Fiona, I ne’er said they were nay good wee lads. I but wonder on how safe they can e’er be with a blood connection to the king of France. If that first cousin was a favorite of the king ...”
“Oh, hell.”
“Aye. The best we can hope for is that their mother was truly a bastard and nay the child of some secret marriage such as Claud had with Marie Anne, their mother.”
“Oh, hell.”
Brian could not help but fully agree with Fiona’s concise opinion on the matter.
Chapter 17