Connie Mason Read Online Free PDF Page A

you do not like your half brother but do not, I beseech you, do anything foolish.” Then he wheeled his destrier and left Drake to his morose thoughts.
    Drake raised his visor and stared at the keep from which he had been banished twelve years before. Little had changed during the intervening years. He had not seen Waldo since he’d left and even now felt no compulsion to look upon his brother’s face. The only reason he intended to seek out Waldo was to let him know the identity of the man who would un-seat him in the tournament and win the purse.
    Drake’s destrier danced beneath him and he soothed him with soft words. “Be easy, Zeus; tomorrow you will see plenty of action.” He removed his helm and dismounted. A lad ran up to take the reins and Drake ruffled his hair. Everything was just as he remembered. People were everywhere—women with bundles under their arms; children herding pigs; carpenters haranguing their apprentices; servants, grooms, and squires going about their duties. Several men-at-arms taking their ease in front of the barracks eyed a comely maidservant drawing water from the well. A dozen buildings nestled against the curtain wall. Stables, smithy, shops for the castle craftsmen, barracks, pantries, and supply sheds. Drake saw Waldo wending his way around an ox cart laden with barrels of wine and lengthened his stride to intercept him.
    Waldo gave Drake a passing glance, then took a second, more thorough look. Drake smiled grimly as he watched the color leach from Waldo’s face.
    “God’s blood! ’Tis
you!
I thought . . . we all thought you were dead.”
    Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you think that?”
    “I . . . you . . .” Sweat popped out on Waldo’s forehead. “We heard naught from you in years.”
    “Mayhap you never wanted to hear from me. As you can see,” Drake said dryly, “I am very much alive.”
    Waldo made a slow perusal of Drake’s distinctive black armor, coming to rest on the black helm he carried under his arm.
    He staggered backward. “Nay! It cannot be! Not you! You cannot be the celebrated Black Knight, the man whose praises are sung throughout the kingdom. Why did I not know?”
    “Perhaps because I did not want you to know.”
    “But how can it be? How did you accomplish such a feat?”
    “Did you not listen to the jongleurs and storytellers?”
    Waldo glared at him. “You left here with naught but the clothes on your back. And now you are . . .”
    “An earl with lands of my own and knights in my service.”
    “Windhurst,” Waldo said dismissively. “ ’Tis naught but a pile of rocks perched atop a barren, windswept cliff.”
    “Nevertheless, ’tis mine, and so is the title.”
    “Why are you here? Daria is dead. You have no reason to return to Chirk.”
    Drake’s silver eyes glinted dangerously. “How did Daria die? You were married but a few short months.”
    “ ’Tis water under the bridge, Sir Bastard,” Waldo taunted. “Daria is dead and I am to wed Raven.”
    Drake took a menacing step forward, “What did you call me?”
    “You will always be a bastard, no matter how many titles Edward bestows upon you.”
    “I am no longer a chivalrous lad with stars in my eyes,”Drake warned. “My name and reputation have been hard won. I am the Black Knight, Earl of Windhurst by order of the king. If you ever call me Sir Bastard again, or Drake No Name, you will be sorry. I fear no man, Waldo of Eyre. Especially not you.”
    “Have you come to disrupt the wedding?”
    Drake smiled without humor. “Nay. Raven is as treacherous as you are. I wish you joy of her. The two of you deserve one another. My reason for being here is quite simple. I intend to win the tourney and the purse.”
    Waldo’s pale eyes narrowed. “Over my dead body.”
    Drake shrugged. “That can be arranged easily enough.”
    Waldo was more dismayed to see his older half brother alive than he let on. Waldo had done things, terrible things, to secure the earldom for