“You never intended to give me a fair chance,” he finally said. “All of that talk in Worcester about being fearful that you were not worthy of her was just talk. You were trying to make me feel pity for you and, fool that I am, I was honorable in a situation where you were not.”
Gaetan didn’t like having his honor questioned and most especially not by a friend. His manner stiffened. “How was I not honorable?” he fired back. “You told me I should ask the lady if she felt something for me, or have you conveniently forgotten what you said? I am not going to speak with the lady on personal matters with you hanging over her shoulder every second of the day, Aramis. I am allowed to have time alone with her.”
“But what about me?”
“There is no ‘you’ in this equation. There is only Ghislaine and me, and I will marry the woman. So, if you do not gracefully accept this situation, you will be very sorry. Is this in any way unclear?”
The situation between them was becoming quite strained. It was no longer two friends having a discussion, but two men competing for the same women. In matters of that nature, only the strong would survive and Aramis wasn’t about to surrender in a case where he felt he’d been wronged.
Slowly, he approached Gaetan until he was mere inches from the man; he had the height advantage by an inch or two, but Gaetan had the power advantage. He had the strength of ten men and the skill behind his sword to back it up. As the two men gazed at one another, staring down in a deadly game, Aramis was the first to blink.
“A lady can always change her mind, you know.”
Gaetan’s fist came up faster than Aramis could duck. The blow caught him in the chin and he went reeling backwards. It stunned him but didn’t knock him off his feet. As he charged Gaetan to retaliate, the host of knights suddenly emerged from the shadows, throwing themselves in between the battling titans.
Téo, de Lara, and St. Hèver had Gaetan while Wellesbourne, de Winter, and de Moray had hold of Aramis. De Reyne stood in between the two factions, trying to keep a distance between them.
“Nay, Gate,” Téo hissed. “Not over a woman. You will not destroy what you and Aramis have over a woman. Do you hear me?”
Gaetan was beyond rage at the moment. Had his men not stopped the fight, he was quite sure he would have killed Aramis. He, too, couldn’t believe it had come to this but, in the case of his heart and Ghislaine, he was willing to do anything to keep her, even destroy an old and dear friend. In fact, nothing else mattered at the moment. But he was prevented from responding when distant screams began to fill the air.
Back in the village, people were screaming and running; the knights could see them in the darkness. There was panic going on and that was enough to divert the men from their anger and set their warrior instincts on edge. No one could quite see what was happening and they began to gravitate in that direction, just a little, to see what the issue was when suddenly, a woman sprinted towards them carrying an infant against her chest.
“Homines Ossium!” she screamed. “They have come!”
Gaetan recognized the name of the tribe in an instant. They had only been speaking of them a few minutes earlier. The Men of Bones tribe had decided tonight was the night for another raid and all he could think about was Ghislaine, in that little cottage with only a silly dog and a priest for protection. In that instant, the warrior in him took over and he made a break for the convening hall where his possessions were. Behind him, the knights were running right along with him. They were nearly to the door when Antillius and his men emerged, great concern on their faces.
“What is happening?” Antillius demanded.
“Your Men of Bones have chosen this night for a raid,” Gaetan said as he burst past him, into the hall and to the corner where all of their possessions were stored. “What is your usual procedure for a raid, de Shera?”
Antillius didn’t even realize Gaetan had addressed him by his new Norman name. “We must herd the women here, to this hall,” he said. “That is the only way to protect them.”
Gaetan shoved his helm on his head, as did the others around him, all of them grabbing broadswords and any other weapons they could get their hands on. There was a tremendous sense of urgency in the air.
“What about the raiders?” he demanded. “Will they kill the men or are they only interested in the women?”
Antillius could only think of his daughters who, he hoped, were still in the kitchen next to the hall. “They only want the women,” he said. “But they will kill the men to get to them. This is our fight, Norman. You do not have to….”
Gaetan and his men were already bursting out of the hall, running for the village that was caught up in a maelstrom of panic. As Antillius armed his men and began shouting orders, Gaetan turned to his knights.
“I am going for Lady Ghislaine,” he said. “Aramis, you come with me. The rest of you find all of the women you can and bring them back to the convening hall. And if one of those raiders gets in your way… you know what to do. Do not let them get the women.”
The knights nodded, securing helms and gloves. Though this raid was unexpected, they were always prepared for battle. It was what they were born to do. Téo clapped Gaetan on the shoulder as he headed into the village.
“Et pro Gloria dei,” he said.
Gaetan responded to him. “Et pro Gloria dei,” he said, turning to the others behind him who were preparing to charge off. “For God and Glory.”
His men responded, most of them touching each other’s arms or hands, which was usual with them. It was a physical touch to confirm the bond of warriors, of the words they spoke. They never went into battle without doing that. As Gaetan finished securing his helm, he turned to Aramis, standing next to him.
He didn’t see the man he had been ready to kill seconds earlier. He only saw his brother.
“Et pro Gloria dei,” he murmured.
Aramis nodded, taking a balled fist and knocking it against the hilt of Gaetan’s sword and, in that gesture, Gaetan knew that everything would be well between them. There was no doubt. Brothers-in-arms superseded everything else.
Together, they raced off into the darkened village, off to save the woman they both loved.
Ghislaine was enjoying the best sleep she’d had in weeks. Years, even. Tucked up, nice and cozy, in the little alcove bed, she was deliciously snug and warm with Camulos laying up against her, providing his doggy warmth. As she slept, it was with her arm over the once-despised dog.