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She didn’t seem to care that the guards and men could see her legs as she ran to him. Her green eyes were filled with joy. “Ware!” she yelled. “Ware! You’re alive! I knew it! I’ve seen visions of you … Oh, thank God, you’ve come home!”

Leaping off his destrier, he swept her into his arms and twirled her off her feet. “ ’Tis good to see you again, Morgana.”

For a minute his men, watching from the other side of the gate, were confused. Was this, their leader, the Baron of Abergwynn? No. Wolf was not Garrick! And yet this woman who seemed the lady of the castle was greeting him warmly, tears of joy running from her beautiful eyes. She clung fiercely to him as if she were afraid he might vanish …

“ ’Twas sinful of you to let us think you were dead,” she teased, but couldn’t stop smiling.

“Morgana!” a harsh voice boomed across the bailey, and the lord himself, his face set in a savage scowl, stood at the top of the stairs to the great hall.

“Look, Garrick,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “ ’Tis—”

“Wolf, the outlaw from Erbyn,” the rogue said as he let go of Garrick’s wife. Head cocked arrogantly, he swaggered up to the great lord.

Garrick’s jaw was firmly set. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he swiftly crossed the wet grass and glared at the leader who had the audacity to take his wife into his grubby arms. “I’ve heard of you,” he said as he drew closer and his eyes narrowed upon the man.

Morgana giggled. “Oh, my love, do you not recognize—”

“My God!” Garrick whispered hoarsely. “Can it be? Does the ghost of my brother visit me?”

One side of Wolf’s mouth twisted into a cynical smile. “I assure you, Garrick, I am no ghost.”

“Ware!” Garrick said, his harsh features relaxing. “By the gods, I thought you were dead. Morgana has been prattling on and on about you, saying you were returning, but … well, I found it impossible to believe. It’s been so long …” His voice caught.

“This is Ware?” A lad of about thirteen with red-brown hair curled his nose at the outlaw as if he smelled foul.

“I’m afraid we’ve told Logan many tales of you,” Morgana said with a smile. “All of them very heroic.”

“He’s a bloody outlaw,” Logan said.

“Aye. And my brother as well.” Garrick clapped Wolf on the back, and Wolf, too, embraced his brother. Until this moment he didn’t realize how much he’d missed Abergwynn. It had been too long he’d been hiding in the woods.

Morgana touched him on the arm. “You must tell us everything as soon as you meet your nieces.”

“Nieces only? No sons?”

“Aye, there are enough women here to make a man daft,” Garrick agreed as his daughters raced up to him. “Jillian, Jane, Millicent, and Margaret.” He shook his great head. He swept two of the raven-haired vixens into his arms. “Logan keeps hoping for a brother.”

The boy rolled his eyes to the heavens, and Garrick ruffled his hair as he ducked away.

As Garrick set his daughters back on their feet, Morgana took Ware’s arm. “Come,” she said, the laughter in her eyes slowly dying. “I knew you were alive, I could feel it, but there are still so many questions …”

Ware’s smile vanished and a shadow passed behind his eyes. “You are asking of your brother, Cadell,” he said sadly, and shook his head. “I know not,” he said with a sigh.

She blinked rapidly and looked away.

“Come, bring your men inside and tell us all,” Garrick said, waving to the guard to allow the rest of Wolf’s band into the castle. “Give these men food and drink.”

Hagan slid down from his mount and extended his hand to Garrick as Wolf introduced him as the rightful Baron of Erbyn. “His brother is now, through trickery, ruling the castle.”

“Darton?” Garrick asked.

“Aye, he’s trying to wrest the power from Hagan, and it would do me well to help restore the rightful lord to his castle,” Ware said. “ ’Twould fulfill my promise to myself.”

Garrick’s eyes locked with those of his younger brother. “You still blame yourself for losing control of Abergwynn?”

“Aye. You had faith in me and left me in command. Strahan would never have attacked had you stayed behind.”

“ ’Tis long over now,” Garrick said. “ ’Twas not your fault.”


Tags: Lisa Jackson Medieval Trilogy Historical