Page 8 of The Tempest
But, God, he was dreading it.
“I dunna believe it is as bad as all that,” he finally said, watching all eyes turn to him. “I wouldna worry so much.”
“How would you know, Payne?” Tay asked curiously from his seat near St. Denis.
How would you know?
He’d been asked a direct question. He had to answer honestly or forever risk mistrust. As Payne came away from the wall, he sighed heavily. His big shoulders slumped. He had been looking at his feet but, gradually, his gaze came up to meet St. Denis’ confused expression.
“I’ve been with ye nine years, m’laird,” he said in a low, steady voice. “Nine years of proving I’m one of the best. Would ye say that’s a fair statement?”
St. Denis didn’t hesitate. “You are one of our very best trainers,” he said. “We would be lost without you. But… oh, God, Payne… do not tell me that you plan to sacrifice yourself somehow in order to protect us.”
Payne snorted, but it was without humor. “Nay, nothing so noble,” he said. “But I was trying tae make a point. My father is the Earl of Lismore. We have bloodlines that go back tae the Northmen, tae kings of distant shores, but also back tae Calgacus, king of the Caledonians, who tangled with the Roman overlords. I’m a direct descendant of that foolish bastard who took on the Roman army. Therefore, I’ve got a pedigree that I’m not sure ye, or anyone, knew about. I know I act like an irreverent fool sometimes, but that fool has breeding.”
By the time he was finished, most of the men in the room were grinning. Even St. Denis was sitting a little taller.
“I knew your father was an earl, but I did not know the rest of it,” he said. “Your bloodlines are impressive, Payne. But what does that have to do with Bloody Maude’s approach?”
Payne took another deep breath. “Because I must I tell ye something I’ve not told anyone.”
“And what is that?”
Payne scratched at his ear hesitantly. “Ye know I’ve spoken of my mother,” he said. “We’ve been making jokes about her for years now. She’s become something of a legend at Blackchurch. Itell ye that she’s eight feet tall, as strong as an ox, and can swing an axe better than any man. I know some of ye have doubted she was real, but I assure ye, she is.”
“I will ask again—what does that have to do with Bloody Maude?”
“That’s my mother.”
A collective gasp went up in the chamber. More than one jaw dropped. Payne felt as if he’d just bared his soul, quite literally, by ripping open his chest and showing the entire room of men he greatly admired of the rather scandalous secret he’d kept concealed. He couldn’t help but feel some anxiety as he looked to Tay and Sinclair and Fox, perhaps his closest friends in the group.
All he could see was their shock.
“Yourmotheris Bloody Maude?” Tay finally managed to say. “God’s Bones, Payne… We’ve spent years joking about your mother. Years and years. I’ve jested about writing to her and telling her what a terrible son she has raised.”
Payne nodded, hanging his head. “I know.”
“Honestly, I did not believe your mother was real!”
“She’s very real.”
As Tay reeled with the news, Fox spoke up. “You told me once that your mother could best the finest knights,” he said incredulously. “I thought you were jesting.”
Payne shook his head at his black-haired friend. “I was not jesting,” he said. “The reality is that my mothercanbest the finest knight.”
More hisses of surprise went around the chamber as the news sank in deeper. Creston and Cruz were over in the corner, shaking their heads and whispering, something that made Payne feel ashamed. Men he loved and trusted were whispering about him. He couldn’t feel good about that.
Sinclair, who was probably closer to him than anyone, stepped forward, moving around Tay and Fox, heading for him as he stood there, alone and vulnerable. Sinclair’s expression wasn’t full of condemnation, but rather curiosity.
“I must admit that I did not see this as a possibility,” Sinclair said. “Christ, Payne, you become seasick if there is too much water in your bath, yet you spent an entire year at sea, to pay my debt, no less. All the while, you had the blood of a pirate in your veins. And you never spoke of it, not ever.”
Payne looked at him, shaking his head. “Nay, I dinna,” he said softly. “There was no need.”
“Did Santiago know?”
“Nay,” Payne said. “He considers Bloody Maude an enemy. And I like the man. I dinna want him tae consider me an enemy, also, so please dunna tell him.”
Sinclair understood. It was true that he’d married Santiago de Fernandez’s cousin and was therefore part of Santiago’s pirate family, so he understood more than anyone what it meant to be linked to someone with an unsavory reputation. He was truly at a loss with this stunning information.
