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One Wylde Knight: A Medieval Romance
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Synopsis
Dark, sultry, with a hint of fire in his blood from his Visigoth ancestors and a spark in his eye that betray his killer instincts, Thorington “Thor” de Reyne is the son of the Earl of Ashington and one of the greatest knights England has ever seen. His talent is unmatched, so much so that the king himself has demanded Thor’s service.
But he has to fight Thor’s own father to get him.
Much in demand, Thor has an ego that is fed by the warlords and kings who are fighting over him. But he has own plans and that includes getting rich, rich enough so that he won’t have to serve at the whim of a king or an earl.
And the king knows it.
In a strategic move, the king offers a marriage to Thor, to the richest heiress in England if not the entire world. Lady Caledonia de Wylde is a woman with more money than the king himself and quite possibly more land than any other landholder in England. Not only was she an heiress in her own right, but she married - and was widowed by – a man with roots that went back before the Norman conquest. She’s younger than Thor, and and brings three daughters with her, but Thor doesn’t care. He’ll get the money he wants and the power he very much craves.
But what he didn’t expect was to fall in love with her.
And that’s where the tides change.
Lady Caledonia has an enemy, one so dark and devious that he’ll do anything to gain her money, her lands, and her very life if he can. Unbeknownst to Thor, he finds himself marrying into an explosive situation where he could very well be the spark that ignites the blaze. Now, he has a wife and an empire to protect, but it’s not Thor who ultimately does the protecting.
It’s Caledonia.
Hold on for a wylde and passionate ride through Medieval England, where ambition surrenders to lust and the most powerful thing in the world, as Thor and Caledonia discover, is love.
It can save, it can kill... or it can be the ultimate sacrifice.
Tropes: Enemies to lovers, Alpha male/Alpha female, unexpected love
**Read for free in KINDLE UNLIMITED**
Part of the de Reyne Domination series
- Guardian of Darkness
- The Black Storm
- A Cold Wynter’s Knight
- With Dreams
- Master of the Dawn
Release date: May 28, 2024
Publisher: Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
Print pages: 344
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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One Wylde Knight: A Medieval Romance
Kathryn Le Veque
Year of Our Lord 1271
Westminster Palace
A battle was brewing.
A battle so big, so volatile, that everyone in the great hall of Westminster was coiled and
waiting. Coiled because they had to know which way to pivot when the battle began. The king,
Great Henry as he was called, was on one side, and on the other… Well, the other side was the
current Earl of Ashington. A man once known as El Viento del Norte.
The North Wind.
One of the greatest mercenaries of his time, an English knight who had spent years fighting
with the greatest mercenary army in Aragon under the command of his uncle, a man known as El
Vibora.
The Viper.
Henry may have been the King of England, but Gage de Reyne, his opponent, was more than
a formidable match. Henry had a healthy respect for the man, though he wouldn’t admit it. He
preferred to stack his side of the battle with great warlords to hopefully show Gage that he wasn’t
afraid of him.
At all.
Not even a little.
… maybe.
But it had come to this. Years of wrestling for the service of the same man, a man who
happened to be Gage’s son, but who also happened to be a knight very much coveted by the king.
Gage had kept his son in the north, fighting Scots, knowing that Henry was eyeing the man for
greater royal duties, and in a moment of weakness, he allowed his son, perhaps the greatest
knight his family lines had ever produced, to accompany the king on crusade. The French king
was going, and Henry, being pious and semi-delusional, also decided to go. It was an honor for
Gage’s son to go with him, as Lord Protector. Even kings needed a bodyguard. But ill health had
forced him to turn back, and Gage’s son right along with him. But the king kept him close, a
security shield that he refused to release.
That was when the battle truly started.
The northern warlords, called the Northerners as a group, were a tough band of battle lords
because they held the north against the Scottish and, at times, Northman onslaughts. That made
them perhaps the toughest of the tough. When there were battles in the south of England or even
in France, oftentimes the Northerners didn’t participate. They still held the north, like their own
little kingdom, and earls such as William de Wolfe, Adam de Longley, Gage de Reyne, and more
were, at times, with power that equaled the king’s.
And Henry knew it. He knew the Northerners were their own little group, a very strong
group, but they were still his vassals. It was moments like this that he was forced to hammer that
home. The battle for Gage’s son had come down to this day, this moment, and now the final
skirmish would unfold. A winner would be declared.
Henry intended to be that winner.
“Understand me, Ashington, so there is no doubt in your mind,” Henry said firmly. “I am not
requesting the service of your son. I am commanding it. He is not going home with you—he is
remaining here with me. Why would you deny your king his wants? Furthermore, why would
you deny you son such prestige?”
Gage, his expression lined with displeasure, faced off against a man he’d faced off against
before. Henry was old these days. He’d stopped actively participating in battles or even
administering the country for the most part. His son, Edward, had taken over most of Henry’s
duties. As Edward would be king one day, that was perfectly acceptable. In fact, Gage could see
Edward behind his father, seemingly remorseful for the man’s stubborn behavior against a loyal
warlord.
But that remorse didn’t change Gage’s mind.
It didn’t even move him.
“Your grace, it is not prestige you offer Thor, but the role of a nursemaid,” he said frankly. “I
permitted him to accompany you on the crusade to the Levant. I felt it was important to provide
you with his protection. I felt—”
“He is my Lord Protector,” Henry said, interrupting him stubbornly. “I had a Lord Protector,
once, in Patrick de Wolfe, but Patrick chose to marry and remain at his father’s holding of
Berwick Castle. Thor is the perfect man for the task.”
Thor.
Thorington de Reyne, to be exact, Gage’s second-born son. He’d been named after his
mother’s family and had gone by Thor since he was an infant. That was all anyone knew him by.
He was also a twin, his older brother by ten minutes being Brian de Reyne, the man who would
become the next Earl of Ashington. Brian and Thor had essentially the same facial features and
had, as children, been nearly identical, but time and growth spurts had changed that. Brian was
dark-haired and big, fair, and freckled, while Thor had the sultry darkness of the de
Reynes—wavy, nearly black hair that tumbled to his shoulders and a smoldering handsomeness
that he’d acquired the moment he transformed from a youth into a man. But both he and Brian
shared shockingly bright blue eyes when no one else in the family had them.
Thor, however, was the fighter.
A war god, just like his namesake.
“I gave my son to you on loan for two years,” Gage said, trying to keep his temper down.
“He was to accompany you to the Levant and fulfil his destiny as a great and noble knight, but
that did not happen. He has returned home prematurely. Did you not think that I, as his father,
also have plans for him upon his return? Plans that did not include playing a companion to the
king.”
Henry’s features darkened. “He could only be so fortunate.”
Gage could see that he wasn’t getting anywhere, so he had to shift tactics. He was dealing
with an ill old man, one who was also conniving, and butting heads with him wasn’t going to
work. He’d known that from the start. Months of missives back and forth regarding the return of
Thor to the north had culminated in Gage’s presence here at Westminster. Henry had refused him
audience for three solid weeks, and Gage knew why.
They were at the crux of that reason now.
Henry didn’t want to let Thor go.
“Of course he has been fortunate,” Gage said. “But I have great plans for him also. I expect
him to take command of Septentrion Castle, my largest garrison, and a property he will inherit
when I pass. It is his. Does a man not have a right to his own property?”
Henry simply looked at him. Then he spoke to Edward, standing behind him to his right,
without looking at him.
“Edward?” he said. “Please tell Ashington our intentions for his son. The time has come.”
Edward didn’t look particularly eager to speak. “Now?” he said. “In front of everyone? Do
you not wish to tell Ashington privately?”
“Nay,” Henry said in a calculated move. “Tell him now.”
Edward grunted, looking to Gage apologetically. “I will clear the hall,” he said. “I should not
be—”
Henry cut him off, standing up from the chair he’d been planted in. “Nay,” he said firmly.
“You will not clear the hall, Edward. I will tell Ashington what we have planned for his son so
that everyone may understand that what I have to offer him is far more prestigious than a little
castle somewhere in Northumberland. Let his fellow warlords tell him what a great offer it is.”
Gage could hear the condescension in Henry’s voice. The man was going to try to use peer
pressure to get his wants. “Septentrion is hardly a little castle, your grace,” he said. “It is large
and strategic.”
Henry waved him off. “Compared to what I am prepared to offer him, it is a pittance,” he
said. Then he pointed at Gage. “Listen to me and listen well, Ashington, because I have a little
story for you.”
“Go on, your grace.”
Henry was moving stiffly, moving for one of the long feasting tables near Gage. He intended
to sit, but before he did, he gestured to the men in the hall, men around him.
“Who do you see here?” he asked. “Look at them—do you not see the Earl of Canterbury?
Daniel de Lohr?”
Gage’s focus moved to the big blond warlord standing off to the side. Daniel de Lohr had
inherited Canterbury from his father, David, who passed away about ten years ago. The de Lohrs
were legendary in the history of England and particularly during the last sixty or so years.
He acknowledged the earl who was also his friend.
“Of course I know Canterbury,” he said, watching Daniel smile faintly. “We are old friends.”
“And you know that Daniel’s uncle, Christopher de Lohr, gained his fortune through
marriage,” Henry said. “Who else do you see here?”
Gage spied another Northerner, Edward de Wolfe, son of the greatest knight the north had
ever seen. William de Wolfe, Earl of Warenton, was a living legend, and his sons were all a chip
off the old block, so to speak. De Wolfe had six grown sons, and while five of them had followed
the warring ways, Edward had followed the path of his grandfather and namesake, Edward de
Wolfe, and become Henry’s counselor and premier diplomat. He was quite young for such a role,
but he was excellent because he had been mentored by Henry’s greatest chancellor, Roi de Lohr,
the Earl of Cheltenham. Roi was Daniel’s cousin and a greater statesman had never existed. Roi
was here, too, standing with Edward, both of them watching Gage to see how the man was
reacting to Henry’s bullying.
It was difficult not to feel pity for the man.
“I see de Wolfe and de Lohr,” Gage finally said. “I see great men. What is your point, your
grace?”
Henry glanced over at Edward and Roi before speaking. “My point is that William de Wolfe
married well. That is how he gained much by way of fortune, even if he did marry a Scot.
Christopher de Lohr married Arthur Barringdon’s daughter and inherited Lioncross Abbey Castle
and the Barringdon fortune, which set him up to create his empire. Men must marry well, Gage,
though I do not have to tell you that, considering you assumed the Ashington earldom through
your wife. Do you not think that Thor has the right to do the same, given the opportunity?”
Gage rubbed at his forehead as if to rub away the headache that threatened. “I would
appreciate it if you would say what you mean, your grace.”
Henry cocked his head in a gesture of agreement. “Very well,” he said. “Your son is a great
knight, Gage. We both agree on that. You want him in your service and I want him in mine. I can
offer him more than you can.”
“Such as what?”
“Such as a marriage to one of the greatest heiresses in England.”
Gage paused, eyeing him suspiciously. “Of whom do you speak?”
“I will tell you when your son arrives.”
That was the first indication that Thor had been summoned by Henry. Before Gage could
reply, Henry gestured to someone at the back of the hall and Gage turned to see his son being
admitted. Quite tall, and very muscular, Thor was an imposing man wherever he went. He never
went unnoticed in any room he entered, for he was a figure that immediately attracted attention.
Like now.
The war god had arrived.
Edward de Wolfe immediately broke away from Roi and headed toward Thor, a man he
considered a friend because they’d spent so much time together. Gage could see Edward
muttering to Thor, who didn’t seem particularly perplexed that he’d been summoned, but he did
seem surprised when he spied his father.
Surprise that turned to confusion. Whatever Edward was telling him had his brow furrowing,
and Thor looked to his father as if to speak to the man, but Henry took control of the situation.
He didn’t want the de Reyne men to converse before he had a chance to say what he needed to
say.
“Sit, Thor,” Henry directed. “That’s right—on the bench next to where your father is
standing. I have something to say to you and I wish for your father to hear it.”
Thor was at least a head taller than his father, who was a big man in his own right. He looked
at Gage curiously, but all Gage could do was shake his head and indicate the seat on the bench
next to him. Slowly, Thor lowered his big body, but he genuinely had no idea what was going on.
In fact, he looked to the men around Henry, a group he was usually a part of, and thought he
might have missed something.
“Your grace,” he said, feeling like he needed to explain himself. “I was not aware you had a
conclave. I informed your chamberlain that my horse has been ill and I wished to see to him this
morning. I brought a man in from Flanders who swears he can heal what ails him and—”
Henry cut him off. “Nay, Thor, you were not expected to be part of this,” he said. “I knew
about the horse. How is he?”
Thor visibly relaxed. “He seems to be better, your grace,” he said. “He has always had
trouble with his lungs, but he is breathing much easier this morning.”
“Good,” Henry said. “Then we may discuss important matters?”
“Aye, your grace.”
Henry nodded and continued. “Thor, it is no secret that your father wishes to take you north,”
he said, indicating Gage. “He tells me that he has only loaned you to me for my trip to the
Levant, and since we have returned early, he wants you to come home. Were you aware of this?”
Thor looked at his father. “I am, your grace.”
Henry’s gaze lingered on Thor for a moment before he turned back for the big, cushioned
chair he always sat in. His bones were old, his joints painful, and the cushioned chair was the
closest he could come to something comfortable. He needed to be comfortable so he could think
clearly, because he had to plan this out carefully or all would be lost.
He proceeded.
“I think you are a man destined for great things,” he said after a moment. “You are not a man
who should be relegated to a garrison commander for your father and then for your brother when
he inherits the title. You are your father’s greatest son, yet you will inherit nothing. Nothing I
have said is untrue.”
Henry was hammering home something that had been Thor’s most disappointing issue. The
reality was that he would not inherit anything. Everything would go to Brian. It wasn’t
something he complained about or lamented because he knew that it was simply the way of
things and his brother would make an excellent earl, but those closest to him knew how it
troubled him. Perhaps it was something that drove him to be better and faster and stronger than
anyone else because he knew he had to earn whatever he gained in life. The king hit him where it
hurt. But he kept his chin up as he answered.
“It is true, your grace.”
“That is not a life you wish for yourself, is it?”
Thor’s gaze had never left Henry. “I have worked hard to earn what I have, your grace.”
Henry lifted a thin eyebrow. “And what is that?” he said. “True, you are my Lord Protector
and I have paid you well for the past two years, but before that, you served your father at
Ashington. Did he pay you well?”
“He did, my lord.”
“And before that, you traveled with your father’s uncle, Varro de Soto, the Aragon
mercenary,” Henry said. “The man known as the Viper. Of course I know all about that. You
served the man for several years, traveling to a dozen countries, fighting wars for a dozen
different warlords who paid you handsomely. What was it they called you?”
“El Martillo, your grace.”
“And that means…?”
“The Hammer, your grace.”
“Ah,” Henry said, though he’d already known the answer. “The Hammer. And you have
fought many.”
“I have, your grace.”
“Well paid for them.”
“Aye, your grace.”
“You are not poor, lad.”
“Nay, your grace, I am not.”
“But you still have no property, no title, and no future other than what your father and brother
dictate.”
That was a rather brutal way of putting it, but it was the truth. Thor was still confused as to
why he was even here, now struggling not to become annoyed. Had he been brought here only to
be made to feel inadequate?
He cleared his throat quietly.
“My father and brother have always been quite generous, your grace.”
“But would it not be better not to be dependent on them?”
Thor took a deep breath, tamping down the irritation. “All men are dependent upon each
other, your grace,” he said. “That is simply the way of the world. May I be so bold as to ask what
point you are trying to make?”
Henry knew he had pushed him to the edge, so he backed off. “I am going to change your
future, Thor,” he said. “All men are dependent on other men, that is true, but almost every great
lord you know has been made great, or greater, by a strategic marriage. Your own father was a
mere knight until he married your mother. Now he is a great earl because of her. But I am going
to make you greater than your father.”
“I am not sure that is possible, your grace, but I will ask the obvious—how?”
“With a great marriage.”
That hadn’t been something Thor expected. His bright blue eyes flickered in confusion, then
in shock when he realized what the king meant. He was a man of careful control, but it was
threatening to slip at the moment.
“A… a marriage, your grace?” he stammered. “Me?”
Henry nodded. “Listen carefully, Thor,” he said. “The lady who will be your wife is a lady
with a family older than England. Through her father, she descends from the last king of Mercia,
Ceowulf Wyldefruth. The House of de Wylde, as it was styled by the Normans when they came
to these shores. Lady Caledonia de Wylde de Tosni is the last of her line. A very ancient and
powerful line. She was married young to the Earl of Stafford, Robert de Tosni, but they had three
daughters. When he died, he was left with no sons and was the last of his line as well. Lady
Caledonia not only bears the Mercian line, but the Stafford line also. She is the Countess of
Tamworth and Stafford, with more lands, castles, men, and vassals than almost anyone in
England. She is an extremely valuable heiress and one I believe would give you the destiny you
deserve.”
Thor was speechless. He stared at Henry for a moment, unable to look at his father for
reasons he wasn’t quite sure of. Perhaps it had something to do with Henry saying he would
make him greater than his father. Given that he loved his father and admired him, he thought that
was rather an insult to him.
But damnation… He could hardly believe what he was hearing.
“I am honored, your grace,” he finally said. “Honored and stunned that you should be so
generous.”
Henry cocked his head, hearing the hesitation in Thor’s voice. “But…?”
Thor cleared his throat softly. “But my vocation is my life,” he said. “I realize that marriage
is a contract and nothing more, but I will widow the woman the day I marry her. I will always be
sworn to you and my position as Lord Protector.”
Henry nodded. “I know,” he said. “And I am grateful. But you deserve this.”
Thor wasn’t so sure. “And I appreciate that, your grace,” he said. “But the truth is that I am
not ready for marriage. I’ve not even considered it. If that is offensive to you, then I apologize,
but that is the truth of it. Simply put, I do not think I will make a very good husband.”
Henry looked at him seriously. “No one is a good husband at first,” he said. “It takes time
and effort. Even your father will tell you that. Will you not try?”
Thor shrugged. “As I said, I’ve not considered it.”
“Then think of this,” Henry said. “With the power and wealth you would have as the Earl of
Tamworth, you would command thousands. Thor, this is a great opportunity for you to position
yourself as one of the great warlords in England. As great as any de Lohr or de Wolfe. For that
kind of position, you could at least try to be a good husband. Do you understand me?”
Thor nodded quickly. “I am not refusing, your grace,” he said. “I suppose I am a little
overwhelmed, but I am not refusing. I am simply telling you my feelings on the matter.”
“But you will consider this?”
Thor paused. Drawing in a long, deep breath, he found himself looking to Edward de Wolfe,
to Roi standing near him, and even to Daniel and, finally, Prince Edward. They were all in
various stages of approval about the offer, nodding faintly at him, silently showing their support.
He did deserve this. As the second son of an earl, this was an astonishing opportunity, and Thor
understood that.
But he also knew something else.
That Henry was trying to keep him loyal to the Crown. Thor had been a point of contention
between the king and Gage, each one demanding his service, each one being possessive of his
time and skill. Thor was fairly certain that this was a ploy by Henry to make serving him much
sweeter than returning to Northumberland and serving his father. This wasn’t some altruistic
offer with no strings attached, simply because Henry liked him.
This was an offer that came at a price.
Thor understood that plainly.
“I would be a fool not to consider it, your grace,” he finally said. “But why don’t you tell me
what your expectations are of me should I accept?”
Henry chuckled softly. “You are very suspicious, Thor.”
“I think I have reason to be.”
Henry continued to chuckle. “My expectations are that you will remain loyal to me until the
day you draw your last breath,” he said. “But since you will outlive me, you will remain loyal to
my son. He will need you. Mayhap that is truly why I am offering you this, Thor—Edward will
need you when he becomes king. I will go to my grave knowing my son is well supported.”
“Even if I returned to Ashington, I would still support you and Edward, your grace,” Thor
said. “You do not need to bribe me for my loyalty.”
Henry shrugged. “It is not a bribe, but a reward,” he said. “A reward for your loyalty past,
present, and future. It is something you have earned, Thor. It is yours and I want you to embrace
it.”
Thor thought on that a moment because the way Henry said it gave him an inclination of
what the man really meant. He’d been around Henry too long not to know that a command was
wrapped up in words that might convey otherwise. Henry was pretending that he had a choice.
But he didn’t.
Damn…
“What you mean to tell me is that I cannot refuse,” he said quietly.
Henry simply gave him a look that suggested he could draw his own conclusions, and that
shook Thor’s composure a little more. He’d walked into an ambush and hadn’t realized it until
this very moment. That power struggle between the king and his father was being brought to a
conclusion and Thor would be the one to pay the price. An attractive marriage, that was true. But
to a woman he didn’t know and had never met. A great heiress with ancient bloodlines.
Caledonia de Wylde. Thor rolled that name around in his head, thinking he might have heard it
before, but he couldn’t be sure. The lady wasn’t close to the king, that was for certain, and that
raised the question—if she was such a great heiress, why wasn’t she close to the king?
Why hadn’t he had dealings with her before?
Thor snorted softly as he stood up from the bench.
“So the marriage is mine whether or not I want it,” he said. “Asking me if I would consider it
was an empty question because you did not mean it. Not in the least.”
Henry shrugged. “It is for your own good, lad,” he said. “You may not think so now, but in
time you will. In time, you will thank me.”
Thor put up a hand as if to stop the man from talking, which was a shocking gesture coming
from the king’s Lord Protector, a man who was ever-obedient and even subservient to his king.
But Thor’s irritation was no longer restrained and it was directed at Henry.
“If this woman is such a great heiress, why have I not met her?” he said. “I’ve never even
heard you mention her name in the two years I have been by your side. Where has she been
hiding?”
Henry rubbed his hands together, clearing his throat softly as if uncomfortable about what he
was going to say. “The lady has been abducted,” he said, avoiding answering the gist of Thor’s
questions. “I have it on good authority that she is being kept at Gomorrah. You know the place,
Thor—we all know the place. It is hell on earth and she is being kept there. You must rescue
her.”
Gomorrah.
That was a name that was only whispered in society, a place so legendary that even
discussing it might damage one’s reputation. Gomorrah was an exclusive guild where every
fantasy a man, or woman, had could come true, founded long ago by a Hessian lord who married
an English noblewoman, Lady Camberwell. The enterprising Hessian used his wife’s money to
buy property from the church to start his notorious guild. Built on gambling and excess, it was a
true den of iniquity.
Situated beneath the old St. Dunstan’s Church, a Saxon church that burned down every time
the Catholic Church tried to rebuild it, they were more than happy to sell the cursed property to
the Hessian. In fact, St. Dunstan’s was built atop the ruins of an ancient Roman temple, and some
said the Romans themselves had cursed the land. Whatever the case, the House of Camberwell
made a fortune from it, paying a portion to the Catholic Church every year from the profits. In
turn, the church absolved Camberwell of the sin of owning Gomorrah.
A convenient arrangement.
But the mere mention of the name had Thor frowning in disbelief. “Gomorrah?” he repeated
in shock. “Who has abducted her?”
Henry shrugged as if upset by the situation. “I do not know,” he said imploringly. “No one
knows. But she is there and she needs saving. Will you save her, Thor?”
Thor’s frown grew. “Surely she has family for this kind of thing.”
Henry shook his head. “She has no family,” he said. “Were you not listening to me? There
are no males left in her family. She is the last of her line. Someone has taken her to Gomorrah
and she is being kept there, surely against her will. This is one of the wealthiest women in all of
England, Thor. Since she has no one to help her, that must fall on me. I cannot allow another to
marry her and control the Tamworth and Stafford fortunes. I want you to take a few of your
trusted men, break into Gomorrah, and extract her. Return her to me. Do you understand?”
Thor’s frown seemed to be permanent. “Your grace,” he said, sighing heavily, “I—”
“That is not a request, Thor. It is a command.”
That settled it. Thor had no choice. The frown left his face, replaced by resignation and duty.
Still, he knew this entire thing was a manipulated situation, and being a vassal of the king, he
was obliged to accept.
But, by damn… he hated it.
“Now I must break into Gomorrah to save this woman from faceless, nameless abductors,”
he muttered. “Gomorrah is better guarded than the crown jewels. And I am to break into it? And
you cannot tell me who holds her, only that she is held?”
“I will go with you.”
Daniel stepped out of the shadows, coming to stand with him. He was a middle-aged man but
still a skilled fighter, still strong. But more than that, Daniel de Lohr had been a wanderer in his
youth, a man who drank and ate and lived a hedonistic lifestyle that had greatly distressed his
father. Everyone knew it. Marriage, and age, had mellowed him, but Daniel was still a man up
for a good time. Even at Gomorrah. Thor couldn’t help the twinkle of mirth in his eye when he
looked at him.
“And do what?” he said. “Help me break in? Or do you happen to know how to get in
easily?”
Daniel fought off a grin. “What do you think?”
“I think they know you at that terrible place very well.”
“How dare you insult me.”
He couldn’t keep a straight face as he said it, which caused Thor to grin in spite of himself.
Clearly, Daniel had the password to get through the iron doors that guarded the entry. Thor
wasn’t surprised. In fact, he was rather comforted by the fact that Daniel knew Gomorrah, and
undoubtedly they knew him, so the chances that there was to be bloodshed had been
exponentially reduced.
“I will summon True and Bully and Darius,” he said. “I will not go into a situation like this
without them.”
He was referring to his squad of knights, men who had sworn fealty to him when he first
assumed the position of Lord Protector. Truett de Nerra, or “True” as he was known, was part of
the great House of de Nerra of Selbourne Castle, while Clayne de Becque was his cousin, known
as “Bully” because his father had been known as “Bull”—their mothers were sisters. Lastly,
Darius de Winter was part of the House of de Winter, otherwise known as the de Winter war
machine because of their very large army and unwavering support for the king. It didn’t matter
who sat upon the throne—the de Winters would support him, and Henry had been particularly
grateful for that support during the dark days of Simon de Montfort.
Men that Thor trusted with his life.
Daniel knew this. He’d been a fixture in Henry’s court for many years and had come to know
Thor de Reyne when the powerful knight assumed the protector role in Henry’s entourage. He
knew enough of him to know that he was dedicated and serious, almost humorless at times, but
the man had a pure heart. He had a strong moral compass, which meant places like Gomorrah
either disgusted him or terrified him. Knowing Thor, it was more than likely the former.
But Daniel wasn’t beyond taunting him a little.
“It is understandable that you would want them with you in any given situation,” he said.
“Including Gomorrah. Do you mean to tell me you have never visited the place?”
“Never.”
“Not even with your bodyguards?”
He meant his knights. Thor gave him a half-grin. “Not even with them,” he said. Then he
tilted his head in the direction of his father standing a several feet away. “And that is the only
answer you shall receive from me with my father so close. If he tells my mother I have visited
Gomorrah under any circumstances other than the line of duty, she will beat me with a club.”
Daniel chuckled. “As would mine,” he said. “That is what mothers do, only my mother had
to tolerate my father and my son, both of whom are a bit lively, so she had a very worn-out
club.”
That was an understatement, and Thor flashed his big white teeth. “I miss Chad,” he said.
“Can we expect him in London anytime soon?”
Daniel shrugged. “Probably not,” he said. “He is in command of Canterbury while I am
away, but more than that, I do not want him anywhere near a place like Gomorrah. Chad would
go in and never come out. We would lose him for sure.”
“And not even his wife has soothed his wild soul?”
“He will do anything for sweet Aless, but he still has his wild streak. It cannot be contained.”
That brought laughter from Thor because Chad de Lohr was quite possibly one of the most
debaucherous men he’d ever met in his life, but the moment was interrupted by Henry.
“Go with Canterbury,” he said, sweeping a hand at him. “I am certain your father will
approve of your going into a place like Gomorrah with de Lohr by your side, but I warn you, do
not be overly long. Find her and get out. Return her to me immediately.”
The smile faded from Thor’s face as he listened to the last of Henry’s command. The whole
situation had him rattled and annoyed. He’d walked into the hall a free man and walked out with
a betrothal. A glance at his father showed the man to be equally rattled and annoyed. Thor wasn’t
sure who was feeling it more—him or his father.
“I will, your grace,” he said steadily. “Can you at least tell me what she looks like so I know
what I am looking for?”
Henry yawned. As an elderly man, conversations like this, most especially as of late, sapped
his strength. But this one had been worth it.
He’d gotten what he wanted.
“Look for a woman with white hair,” he said. “I’ve seen Lady de Tosni once and she has very
pale hair. As I recall, it was nearly white, so that is all I can tell you. She should not be difficult
to find.”
Thor nodded, looking to his father in a final gesture to see if the man had anything left to say
to him. But Gage was quiet, having been plowed over by the king, and there was nothing left for
him to say. He met his son’s gaze before shaking his head faintly and looking away.
Defeated.
Henry had won this battle and it was over. Even so, none of them could have anticipated the
path that Thor was soon to follow. This moment would mark the drastic change his life was
about to take.
If he’d known that, he would have run like hell. ...
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