Free Rosehaven by Catherine Coulter Page A

his head. No, he would deal with this. It would be his last act here at Oxborough. He felt his blood stir. Aye, he wanted to do this. It wasn’t a duty, it was a pleasure, making his blood stir.
    Hastings watched Graelam ride out with Northbert and his dozen men not long thereafter. He had not come back into the keep. That meant Severin had no idea that he had left.
    She ate some soft goat cheese and some warm bread fresh from MacDear’s oven. She sipped at her milk, watching two of her women clean down the trestle tables. She knew she would have to return to Severin to see if he was continuing to mend, if the fever stayed away from him. Hehad to be still asleep. She would work first in her herb garden.
    She knelt first to weed the Canterbury bells and the lupines, both blooming wildly. One tall pink lupine was leaning over the hyssop planted at the far edge of her herb garden. She sat back on her heels, wondering what to do. No need to think about it really. She pinched off the tall spike and tossed it over her shoulder. She needed the hyssop and the savory that grew beside it. Both needed sun and a lot of air.
    She hummed as she worked, as she always did. She felt calm flowing into her. She plucked off a good dozen ripe strawberries to grind up. They were excellent for whitening teeth.
    It was midafternoon before Graelam rode back through the giant gates of Oxborough, past the thick curtain outer walls to the heavy iron portcullis of the inner wall that the porter had to raise since it had been locked down from the moment of the attack on Severin. He and his men rode into the inner bailey, chickens, goats, pigs, dogs scurrying from the path of the destriers’ hooves. Children of all ages grouped together watching the twelve warriors.
    It was Severin who met Graelam on the deeply hollowed stone steps leading into the great hall. Graelam saw him immediately, standing on those steps garbed all in gray as was his habit, looking strong and fit and very angry. He couldn’t yet be all that fit. Graelam had left him sleeping. Hastings could not have agreed to allow him to leave his bed, not that Severin would listen to anyone when he had made up his mind about something.
    Graelam wasn’t fooled by his stillness, that was just a part of him that baffled his enemies. No, Severin was going to want to bring his mace down on his head, particularly once he heard what Graelam had done.
    His hands were on his hips. He didn’t realize that Hastings was standing behind him. Graelam met her eyes and smiled.
    “You left without telling me anything,” Severin said, that deep voice of his soft and low. “You left me filledwith the drug she poured down my throat. I do not know what you have done, but I know it is something I won’t like. I am not pleased, Graelam.”
    Graelam grinned and slapped him on his unwounded shoulder. “Come inside and I will fill your ears to overflowing. Hastings, can my men have ale? Also there are some wounds for you to see to, if you do not mind.”
    Severin turned to see her standing there, the early summer breeze ruffling the hair around her face. “See to Lord Graelam’s men. Fetch them ale. Graelam and I will have the Aquitaine wine if you and Dame Agnes have not drunk it all. Ah, yes, I will see to Graelam.”
    “You will not hurt Graelam,” she said.
    Severin looked as if he’d spit at her. But Graelam laughed. “See you, Severin, I have a protectress. Harm me not.”
    “Go, mistress,” Severin said to his wife, and turned on his heel. She hoped his shoulder hurt.
    She called out to Northbert.
    “Keep your sword sheathed, Severin,” Graelam said easily as he wiped his hand across his mouth. “Else I might call upon your wife to protect me. Nay, don’t growl. This is excellent wine I brought you. Kassia’s father lives in Brittany, you know. He has vineyards in Aquitaine.”
    “Graelam, whatever you did I know I will not like it. But I am ready. Tell me, what did you do?”
    “The man