In Honor Bound (The Chastelayne Trilogy Book 1) by Dodson DeAnna Julie

Author:Dodson, DeAnna Julie [Dodson, DeAnna Julie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Religious Fiction
Published: 2011-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

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Stephen was just as Tom remembered him and it occurred to him, as it had at their first meeting, that this supposed heir to the Lynaleighan throne did not look much like Chastelayne nobility. His limbs were thick and heavily muscled, and he lacked the lithe agility that graced his Afton cousins. His blond hair hung limply around his dough-complected face, a face that might have been handsome but for the marks of reckless cruelty that were on it. He was King Edward's son, there was enough Chastelayne in him to attest to that, but only just.

"I am quite pleased to see you here, cousin," Stephen said, the look in his pale eyes frighteningly sincere. "Really quite pleased."

Tom made an elaborate bow. "I am gratified, my lord of Ellenshaw, and honored by your kind attentions. May I ask what you intend for me now?"

"I mean you no harm, cousin. You and your father and your brother, too, are guilty of treason and murder. My duty as your king is to see the law satisfied in these matters. Nothing more."

"Nothing more than hanging, drawing and quartering. Again I am gratified. May I be allowed to see my father?"

"If that pleases you. I for one am loath to see families parted. Even now, I wish with all my heart that your brother were here with us."

"Yes," Tom replied, "I am certain you do."

"Yes. Well, perhaps that can be remedied soon. I hear he has his army at Lindfors and is stubbornly refusing to yield to my forces. Still, there will be time enough, I'll warrant, to teach him the folly of false pride. Come, I will send you to your father now. Pity you've come so late, though. You've just missed supper." His mouth twisted into a sardonic grin when he saw Tom swallow hungrily. "But you'll be all the keener for breakfast in the morning."

Tom bowed once again. "Most considerate, my lord."

Bidding his host good night, Tom followed his guards through a maze of corridors and finally down into the depths of Stephen's dungeon. In the deepest passageway, posted with guards every few feet, was the captive king's cell. The silent soldiers opened the door and stepped aside to let Tom enter. Once they had freed his hands, they locked the door upon him.

"Father?"

The prisoner stopped pacing and lifted his head, a suspicious, searching look on his face. Tom came closer, dismayed by the toll captivity had taken on his father. Robert was not old, scarcely forty, yet he looked older by far and as ravaged by grief and care as King Edward had when Tom had last seen him.

"Father?" Tom repeated, and Robert's expression turned to one of astonished recognition.

"Tom? Oh, Tom, have they taken you, too?" He pulled his son into a crushing embrace. "It's a selfish thing, boy, but I am glad you are here."

Tom returned the hug, understanding.

"You are well, son?" Robert asked, eyeing Tom's swollen lip and his many bruises.

"I am hungrier than I would like, but well enough.

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