Once He Loves (Medieval 3)

Sweyn’s gaze slid from his.

Ivo blinked. Could there be a hint of color in the Dane’s tanned cheeks? Could Sweyn actually be blushing? Now it was Ivo’s turn to play teasing games.

“You went there, didn’t you? You wanted to see for yourself whether or not they were safe? Ah, Sweyn, what of your boast that no one woman would ever be enough for you?”

Sweyn lifted his eyes, and for once they lacked their laughing sparkle. Indeed, Sweyn looked confused, and Ivo felt almost sorry for him.

“’Tis true, Ivo. One woman would not be en

ough. That is why I cannot think of having her, I dare not think of having her. This madness will pass. I know it will pass.”

Ivo nodded with mock solemnity. “Of course it will pass, my friend. It is like a fever—you either survive it or you don’t.”

If it were possible, Sweyn appeared even more miserable.

“Ivo!”

It was a voice he knew. “Lord Henry!” Ivo turned to greet one of Radulf’s oldest and closest friends. Broad of shoulder and strikingly handsome, Henry was also the owner of a clever and diplomatic tongue, and accordingly spent most of his time at court.

“I have news for you,” Henry said to Ivo, when the greetings were done. “And you will not like it.”

“Then tell me quickly, my lord.”

“Your brother, Miles, is come to York. I saw him near Bootham Bar two days ago, but he slipped away before I could stop him.”

Miles!

For a moment Ivo couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. And then it was as if a great dark cloud fell over him, taking his breath and filling him with despair. Miles, his brother, who hated him and wished him dead. Who, all his life, had given Ivo nothing but misery. The last time they had come close to meeting, Gunnar Olafson had been there to shield him from Miles’s malevolence. Now Gunnar was in the south, and Ivo was in York.

And so was Miles.

“But there is a warrant for him—he is to be arrested for his treason at Somerford.” Sweyn was speaking the words Ivo was thinking. Miles had, under Lord Fitzmorton’s orders, overtaken the manor at Somerford and threatened the overlordship of Radulf and, through him, King William himself. Lord Fitzmorton had managed to wriggle his way out of trouble, but he had used Miles as his scapegoat, blaming him for most of what had occurred.

Ivo had thought, at the time, it was convenient that Miles had vanished so completely. Fitzmorton would not want Miles de Vessey questioned, in case he told the truth about the affair. Although, if he did tell the truth, it would be the first time!

Lord Henry was speaking. “Nevertheless, warrant or no warrant, I have seen him. Lord Fitzmorton may claim all he likes that, after Miles left Somerford, he vanished from sight, but I do not believe him. Miles is too clever, too valuable for Fitzmorton to lose him entirely. And he knows too much. Fitzmorton will have sent him up here, to his lands in the north, to wait until the king can be persuaded to pardon him. ’Tis a misfortune for us all that Radulf has also come north.”

“Miles will be certain to make Ivo’s time here dangerous and uncomfortable,” Sweyn said with a frown. “I have never known two brothers less similar.”

Ivo just shook his head. Miles, here! After what had happened in the summer, he had hoped his brother had taken ship to Normandy or perhaps France. Was Miles to follow him about forever, like an evil shadow? He would never be safe while Miles lived, and he had known that for a long time. But knowing something and acting upon it were two different things, particularly when it was his own brother. Hate him or not, Ivo had an aversion to killing members of his own family.

And yet it may come to that.

“I will have to find him and make him leave. He will not go, so then I will have to fight him. And if we fight, he will try to kill me, so I will have to kill him.”

When he looked up, he caught the tail end of the glance Sweyn and Lord Henry had exchanged between them. They thought that Miles might kill him. He could see the fear in their eyes. Aye, he told himself bleakly, mayhap Miles would triumph. He had always triumphed before. But whatever the outcome, Ivo sensed the day of battle was fast approaching.

“You saw him two days ago?” he asked Lord Henry, while his stomach churned.

“Aye.”

“Does Lord Radulf know?”

“I have told him, but at the moment he has other matters on his mind.”

Ivo nodded grimly. “Then ’tis up to me to deal with Miles’s evil. I will see to this, Lord Henry. Leave it with me.”

Henry gave him a searching glance, and then nodded, content that it was so. “Good man!”