Julie Garwood - The Prize

"Why can't it be undone?" she blurted out.

"That question doesn't deserve an answer, wife."

Her shoulders slumped. "I imagine Justin's pleased with this honor, isn't he?"

Royce nodded. He flashed a quick grin, then forced a serious expression when Nicholaa's frown intensified. "Justin's strutting around like a rooster now. Ingelram and Bryan also won the right to participate. They're strutting, too."

She wasn't amused by the picture he'd painted. "They're boys," she cried out. "Royce, they could get killed."

He shook his head. He would have pulled her onto his lap and comforted her if she hadn't backed away from him. He decided she wasn't quite ready to be soothed yet. She needed time to feel angry first.

"They're men, Nicholaa. They're young, yes, but still men, not boys."

Nicholaa realized she was wringing her hands and immediately clasped them behind her back.

"Perhaps you'll stop worrying after I've told you just how exceptional your brother was when he competed for his place," Royce suggested.

She shrugged. He hid his smile. He knew she wanted to scream at him. She didn't, though. She was trying to accept his decision, and that pleased him very much. She'd never seen Justin train with the others and couldn't possibly know he'd developed into quite a warrior.

Royce knew, though. He'd been with Justin day in and day out, demanding perfection. Justin had measured up, the honor now belonged to him, and by God, despite Nicholaa's resistance, Royce wouldn't take that privilege away.

He patiently explained each test the soldiers were put through and told how Justin had met every challenge. In truth, he was fairly bursting with pride by the time he'd finished telling Nicholaa about the feats. And when he was done, he again told her it couldn't be undone.

"This announcement caught me by surprise," she announced. "I do have faith in you, and for that reason I assume you've considered every possibility. Do you believe the men who go up against my brother will fight fairly?"

"No," he answered. "They'll do whatever it takes to win, Nicholaa."

"Even if that means trying to break Justin's one hand to make him completely vulnerable? Even if they use their swords to try to cut his hand off?"

She was shaking with fear by the time she'd spoken those dark possibilities aloud. Royce leaned back in the chair and stared at her. "Even then," he agreed.

Odd, but his casual agreement eased her fear just a little. He'd obviously thought about those possibilities, too.

She started pacing. "I imagine you've told Justin what to expect. You've surely warned him about Baron Guy's soldiers." Nicholaa didn't wait for his agreement but continued. "Although you won't admit it, you must be a bit worried. I'm worried, too, but I guess it doesn't matter how we feel. We'll have to keep our concern hidden from Justin." She threaded her fingers through her hair, then blurted out, "Royce, if you doubt he's completely ready, then help him."

He was having difficulty following her. In the space of a few minutes she'd done a complete turnaround. She was now trying to persuade him not to worry.

She resumed her pacing. "You've given Justin back his pride," she told him. "You can't take that away now."

Royce continued to listen to her reasons for accepting this decision and it suddenly dawned on him that Nicholaa wasn't just repeating what he'd already told her.

She was actually lecturing him.

He waited until her pacing brought her close enough, then reached out and grabbed her. He settled her on his lap and kissed her.

"You please me, wife," he announced gruffly.

"Will I please you when I tell you I won't stop being afraid?"

"Yes," he answered. "Because I know you won't intervene, and I know you'll hide your fear from your brother."

She clasped his face. "Make certain he's ready," she whispered. "Teach him all the deceitful tricks they'll use. If anyone knows how to fight unfairly, it's you, husband."

He raised an eyebrow. "Thank you… I think. That was a compliment, wasn't it?"

"Oh, yes," she replied. "You didn't fight fairly when you tricked me into leaving the abbey. Had I known then what a soft heart you had, I would have realized Ulric was safer with you than with anyone else in England. Yes, you used cunning then. It certainly wasn't fair of you to trick me that way."

He kissed her again, a long, wet, hot kiss that left them both shaking. Lawrence's discreet cough made Royce reluctantly pull away.

Nicholaa looked flustered. She jumped off her husband's lap, smoothed her hair and her skirts, and smiled at the vassal. "I understand you're going to lead the experienced soldiers in William's games. Congratulations, Lawrence."

"Thank you, my lady."

"We must have a special dinner tonight," she said. She turned to Royce. "Could Justin join us?"

"If he does, the others must also be invited."

She smiled. "Cook's going to pitch a tantrum when I tell her we're having twenty guests."

Her husband shook his head. "Twenty-four," he corrected. "Two extra men from each division will go along as reserves."

"Reserves?"

"It's just a precaution, Nicholaa," he explained, "in case one or two are injured."

"Or become too ill to compete?"

He knew from the eagerness in her voice what she was thinking… and probably hoping. "Justin isn't going to get injured or become ill. Do not waste your time praying he will, wife."

She frowned at him. "I would never pray for such a thing," she muttered. She turned to the vassal, forced a smile, and said, "Lawrence, my husband must learn to have a little more faith in me. Still, he has other redeeming qualities, and so I forgive him his flaws."

The vassal didn't know how to respond to that remark. He did notice his baron was looking surprised. Then Nicholaa drew his attention again when she asked if he would order a few of the soldiers to bring the other table up from the floor below.

As soon as he'd given her his agreement, she hurried toward the back of the castle. Nicholaa knew that the sooner she gave Cook the bad news, the sooner she could get over her tantrum and down to the business of preparing a fine meal.

It turned out to be a festive occasion. Royce was right when he said Justin strutted. So did the other young soldiers. The older knights took it all in stride. They were dignified. But they smiled all through dinner, too.

Justin was asked to stay after the dinner was finished. He thought his baron wanted him to assist him with the statue again.

Royce wasn't in the mood to work on the project tonight, however. "Beginning tomorrow I will set aside two hours each day to instruct you."

"With the others on my team?" Justin asked.

It was Lawrence who answered him. "Of course, Justin," he said. "Your baron is simply respecting the chain of command when he tells you his plans, because you earned the right to lead your team. Tomorrow you will relay this message to your men."

Justin smiled. "I understand." He turned his gaze to his sister. "Nicholaa, what are you looking at?" he asked. He'd noticed she was frowning intently and staring at his arm.

"Your scars," she answered immediately. "They aren't still tender, are they?"

Since she'd asked the question so casually, Justin was hard pressed to take exception. "No, they aren't tender."

Nicholaa nodded. "Lawrence told me that you put on a leather covering with loops to slip over your shoulder, and Royce made you take it off. His reason was that the opponent could use the loops to pin you down."

"Yes, that's true," Justin acknowledged.

"Who made that covering for you?" Nicholaa asked.

"Bryan."

"Is he very clever?"

Royce interrupted then. "You aren't thinking to ask Bryan to make the black queen, are you?"