Their father paled. “Mercenaries you are. Cruel and demanding.”
“One life for another,” Alistair said again. His gaze fell upon Ember’s mother. Ossia’s lip quivered, but she laid her hand atop her husband’s.
“You cannot forswear your oath, my lord,” she murmured.
Edmund snatched his hand from hers and stood. “No. I shall not forswear myself. But I shall journey north with you. We all shall.”
Agnes threw a pleading look at her mother and sniffled. “But my wedding . . .”
Ossia nodded, turning to her husband. “My lord, our daughter is but a month from her sea journey.”
“Her trunks can be packed by servants.” Edmund snorted. “She needn’t be here. Our house travels to Tearmunn on the morrow.”
Barrow coughed. “Lord Morrow. My orders are to bring the younger lady Morrow to Conatus today.”
“Tomorrow is as good as today.” Edmund glowered at the knight. “You shall not further offend me by refusing to share this feast and spend the night as guests in my home. We will leave at dawn.”
“If you insist on making this journey north,” Barrow said, with a slight shake of his head, “we will depart within the hour.”
Edmund’s face purpled. “You dare to command me in my own house.”
His warriors ruffled at the exchange. Ember felt as though someone had grabbed her by the throat when she saw several of her father’s men reach for their weapons. She could feel Agnes trembling.
“Father, please.” Ember started forward, but Alistair put up his hand, signaling for her to keep still.
“Just wait,” he murmured.
“I do not command you,” Barrow told her father quietly. “But I will not fail in my own duties. I take your daughter to Tearmunn today. If you travel with us, you will already slow our progress. Three riders would make the trip quickly. The entourage you seem to be suggesting will make our journey longer by days. Delay is simply untenable.”
Ember was holding her breath, her gaze locked on Barrow. He towered over her father with shoulders set, face calm but unyielding. She couldn’t look away from him. No man had ever spoken thus to her father. Without fear. Without apology. Her pulse rippled with anticipation. It was marvelous.
Ember’s father puffed up his chest. “I will not suffer this humiliation. Nor will I send my daughter off on a horse with two men like some common woman. She shall arrive at Tearmunn with her maids and her belongings.”
Barrow glanced at Ember. “The lady alone will return with us today. You may send her things to the north as you wish. There is no place for her maids at Tearmunn.”
“Enough!” Edmund brought his fist down on the table, the force of the blow toppling several platters and overturning cups. “I will hear no more of this.”
“Perhaps we can resolve our differences another way,” Barrow said quietly.
Red-faced and huffing with fury, Edmund scowled. “And what way would that be?”
“Pick your best men.” Barrow waved at the cluster of warriors in the hall. “If they can defeat me in combat, we’ll depart tomorrow.”
Edmund squinted at Barrow. “Did you say men?”
The warriors guffawed, trading grins. Edmund raised his hands and the hall fell silent.
All traces of Ember’s father’s rage had been wiped away. With a hearty laugh, he said, “I’m tempted to hold you to your words, knight. And guarantee myself victory.”
“I didn’t misspeak, my lord,” Barrow answered without hesitation. “Your best men. Name them.”
The chortling of Lord Morrow’s men quieted and soon became angry rumbles.
“A bold challenge,” Edmund said, his smile hard. His gaze swept over his men. “Hugh! Gordon! Felix!”
Ember drew closer to her sister as the three warriors eased their bulk from their chairs. Her father had picked well. Not only were these his most seasoned knights, but they were among Ember’s least favorite. Hugh wasn’t horrible, but when she was a girl, his scarred face and missing teeth had frightened her. Gordon and Felix had a habit of leering at Ember and her sister when they passed in the hall. Even worse, Felix had a reputation for cruelty to both the manor’s servants and his hunting dogs. These men would fight hard and, if given the chance, wouldn’t hesitate to seriously injure Barrow out of spite.
Barrow nodded at the three men. “My lords, choose your weapons.” He turned to Ember’s mother. “My lady, I would not sully your home with combat. Might we move into the courtyard?”
Ossia nodded, taking her husband’s arm. Edmund led his wife from the room, beckoning his chosen champions to follow.
The buzz of anticipation in the hall broke into a low roar. The men-at-arms surged after their lord, leaving the hall and barreling to the courtyard. Alistair hung back, offering his body as a barrier between the rabble of men and Ember and Agnes.
Watching the tide of warriors ebb from the room, Ember jumped in surprise when a low voice, very close, said, “I apologize for this spectacle, Lady Morrow. I hope I haven’t given offense.”
Barrow had appeared suddenly out of the mob, standing at her shoulder. She looked up and found him searching her face intently. What he was looking for she couldn’t say, but her own gaze was caught in the dark blue-gray of his eyes, their shade like that of a storm-ridden sea. Unable to find her voice, Ember simply shook her head.
“Are you sure this is necessary?” Alistair asked Barrow.
“Lord Morrow is in need of a lesson,” Barrow answered.
Alistair frowned. “Perhaps. But Ember’s father will like us even less afterward, which will hardly please the Circle. Also, I know those men. You’re in for a dirty fight.”
“Don’t worry about me.” A smile flickered over Barrow’s mouth. He shrugged off his cloak and handed it to Alistair.
Alistair sighed, muttering, “I wonder if Kael could have avoided a fight.”
“Your mentor in the Guard?” Ember asked, remembering the name from one of Alistair’s letters.
“Yes,” he said. “He has a lighter touch than Barrow—but our commander didn’t think a cheerful countenance would persuade Lord Morrow.”
“Your commander is probably right,” Ember said, and Alistair’s only answer was a rough laugh.