If there was anything that annoyed Kieven Radicand more then losing the attentions of a beautiful woman, it was losing them to his withdrawn twin brother, Hayrick. The wench currently in question was a new housemaid named, Leda, who was given to Kieven from Lord Ellsworth of Huntwell. She was not beautiful by conventional standards but there was a temptation in her large breast that always look like they were about to spill from the deep cut neckline in the tunic she wore. Not to mention her lush lips that when pouted a certain way could be taking as an open and blunt invitation for a tryst in one form or another.

What was it about Hayrick that woman found so damn intriguing? Between the two of them there was nothing to tell them apart other then a few things that you were not able to notice unless you were up close. At 32, both men stood 6 and a half feet tall with identical chiseled faces,  well pronounced cheekbones, strong chins, large muscular builds, and dark tanned skin from the Phenon summer sun. But if you knew them well enough you would notice that Kieven had hair black as pitch and his eyes were dark green, while Hayrick’s wavy hair was a very dark brown with gold eyes that seemed to glow like liquid amber. It had been said that many women felt as if they gave you the sensation as if you were drowning in them. And the one thing that would give away with out a doubt who the both men were the tattoo’s each had on their arms, signifying the house they ruled.

Kieven’s was the outline of a flacon that ascended up his right forearm, starting at his wrist while Hayrick’s was that of a hawk in a similar position on his left forearm. But even with all their similarities women always flocked toward Hayrick lately. It was more then his devil eyes, Kieven knew better, when it came to Hayrick he knew it was his younger twin’s brooding as well as his growing reclusive nature that all the wenches were drawn to. It was in a woman’s nature to want to comfort something or one that they thought was wounded. A smirk rose to his face, for he knew that it would take more then just a bosom to brush against one’s body to pull Hayrick out of his current depressing state of mind.

It had been 3 year since Hayrick’s newly wedded bride had given birth to a son. But much to all of their horror, after going through 3 days of labor, and the loss of so much blood, the young Morgane died shortly after giving the child his name, Garrick, after Hayrick and Kieven’s missing father. Kieven doubted that the reason Hayrick had become so withdrawn was because the marriage had been a love match. Far from the truth in fact, but although Hayrick had loved the fair Morgane it was never true love. However he had respected the delicate beauty, and it was in Kieven’s opinion that the widowed twin felt more guilt then anything for such a young girl having to loss her life, and be denied the right to watch her son grow up.

          Kieven looked down at his mug of ale and gave a soft chuckle as he heard Hayrick mumble a rather obvious false excuse when Leda offered her ‘attentions’ for his comfort this evening. But despite the polite rejection, she just smiled down at him, and gave the somber man a tight hug before she turned her attentions to Kieven, moving to stand behind him so she lean over his back so she had to lean over him in order pour some more ale in his mug. He could feel her hot breath on his neck as she moved over him and her breasts pushed up against his back, invitingly. Just when he was about to wrap his arm around her to sit her on his lap a female voice entered the hall right as the owner did.

          “Kieven! Hayrick! Child entering, you know the drill!”

          Letting out an exasperating sigh, he motioned for Leda to move on in her duties, but made sure he gave her a wink and a half smile. Leda nodded politely and went on pouring ale for all the rest of the men in the great hall that were enjoying the feast at hand. It wasn’t uncommon for the people of Falconhurst and Hawkforte keeps to be seen congregating at either manor together.  Kieven, being the oldest of the twins by all of a handful of minutes, became Lord of Falconhurst when their father, Garrick Radicand’s boat never returned from his last trading voyage, 6 years ago. Even now just to think about their father, pained both the men. They had each been very close to their sire, going hunting, fishing and training to be a warrior right beside him. None of the household though, not even their beautiful mother, Andorra, thought of the last Lord of Falconhurst as dead, she always said he was missing. And since it was well known that the Lady was a seer, no one ever said otherwise, what Lady Andorra swore by was taken as the full truth and nothing ever questioned.

          Hayrick on the other hand, as the younger son, did not originally stand to inherit anything other then a small estate but 2 years after their father went missing, their father’s only relative and cousin, Royce, the Lord of Hawkforte died after a hunting accident leaving behind no children nor a wife. Instead he made Hayrick the heir of all of his estates and titles. To the villagers in the area it seemed only fitting that it was so since Garrick and Royce’s fathers were also brothers who had both married twin sisters. The story went that the sisters couldn’t bare to be apart, so the brothers had built the forts less then mile apart. For which Lady Andorra loved, because she could keep and eye on her children and her only grandchild at all times. Since the death of Lady Morgane, Lady Andorra had moved into Hawkforte in order to help with the rearing of little Garrick while her youngest child and the brothers’ only sister, Lady Kiara took over duties as the Lady of Falconhurst until finally Kieven’s took a bride.

And thus, it was Kiara right at this moment who was rushing into the hall chasing at the heals of a very fast 3 year old who bolted well ahead of her, making a bee line directly for his father, in a fit of laughter. Their mother followed right behind with a huge grin on her face. Andorra was a beautiful woman at nine and forty summers, with her long black hair that hung in a thick braid down her back with small wisps of gray at random surrounding her temples. Her illumines eyes were large and as green as the leafs on an oak tree with thick black lashes. She was a small woman, a foot and a half shorter then her sons with tanned skin. Both of the boys took after they father physically with height and muscularly built. But they both had her skin color and Kieven inherited her black hair and green eyes. Kiara, on the other hand, was built just like their mother, barely standing only 5 feet of height, with the same long wavy black hair, high cheekbones, full lips, large eyes, and curvy figure. But she had their father’s light skin and his gold eyes like Hayrick, making her an extremely beautiful child and now an even more desired young woman.

By the time she was 15, what was considered marriageable age, there had already been 20 or so offers for her. But Andorra insisted that her daughter would only marry who she wanted, that she would have the same thing Andorra and Garrick had been lucky enough to have, a love match. Just as she wanted for her sons, who right now she hurried to embrace as she went around the tables.

“My boys, sorry but that little pup got away from us yet again.” She apologized as she gave each a kiss on the cheek.

Turning to Hayrick Kiara laughed, “You should have seen it, Little Garrick rush off once we took him off of the horse with mother and he bolted right for garden and tried to hide in the berry bushes.”

Hayrick stood up with his son in his arms, to give their mother and little sister a hug, then he lifted the small child with short brown hair up onto his shoulder. “So son, you’ve been giving Kiara and your Gramma a hard time?” He asked in an authorities voice only to be falsified by a teasing smile that hinted on the corners of his mouth.

An impish grin formed on the little boy’s pudgy face, smeared with streaks of dirt, “Na-uh.” little Garrick said with a shake of his head that sent a shower of soil and grass onto his father who couldn’t help but laugh.

“See, he says he hasn’t been, so it must be so.” Hayrick nodded in agreement with the small child.

Rolling her eyes, Andorra rose on her tiptoes in order to reach up and snatched the child from his father, “You keep giving into that boy, Hayrick, and he will be a cocky as that uncle of his.” She assured him as she settled the child on her hip.

“Hey, I take offense to that. He only has one uncle.” Kieven said trying to be serious, then paused for a moment and corrected himself, “Wait, on second thought you are right, Mother.” He admitted with a devilish grin.

“Second thought? I didn’t even know you were capable of a first thought.” Kiara pretended to be in shock, placing her small hand on her forehead and made the look as if she were about to faint.

“Eh, shut it, little one.” Kieven snorted at his younger sister’s dramatics that only she would be able to get away with, “I was just agreeing with mother. She’s right.”

“I know that, it’s just about time you did as well.” Andorra laughed as she gave her son a nod, “Well we better get you back to your home, little pup, you need a bath.”

“Why don’t you all just stay the night here?” Kieven offered with a slap on his brother’s back. “Since you all are here already and it’s late.”

“Thank you, brother, but no. Actually I think it’s best for me to take my leave as well. I told little Garrick that I would have a ‘battle’ with him tonight before he retires.” Hayrick declined politely as he shook hands with Kieven.

“Very well. And your men are allowed to stay until they’ve had their fill.”

“Thank you. Good evening, little one.” Hayrick addressed to Kiara as he embraced her goodbye.

“Little? I am not little you overbearing brute,” She teased as she playfully punched him in the shoulder. “I will have you know that I am no longer a child, my 18^th birthday is coming up shortly. Why, many women my age have already been married and have at least one or two babes in tow.”

“Aye, that is true. But until you have a husband to take care of you, you will always be our little sister.” Hayrick told her as he kissed her brow. Looking up at Kieven, Hayrick raised and eyebrow, “You making sure none of your men are..?”

“Hayrick!” Andorra exclaimed, “Such things are not appropriate to ask in front of a young girl.”

Nudging his head toward their mother, Hayrick smirked. “Have you told her that you are no longer a child?”

Kiara let out a distorted noise as she crossed her arms over her chest, and muttered, “Many a times, however she always seems to manage to forget that fact.” Quietly enough for their mother not to hear, but Andorra heard none the less and made it known.

“Ha! It does not matter age, marriage or how many children any of you have, you will always be my babes. So stop griping about it you three. Now come along Hayrick, the little pup is starting to fall asleep and he is still in need of his bath.” Andorra huffed then turned and headed out of the hall with the child nestled with his head in the slope of her neck.

Kieven looked at his siblings baffled, “How does she do it?”

“Do what?” Kiara asked.

“Manage to always put us in our place, even when we don’t know we’ve fallen from our pedestals.” Hayrick answered for him as he turned to walk after Andorra leaving the main hall.

          A shudder from Kiara brought Kieven’s attentions back to the young woman, “What?” He asked.

          “That,” She answered with a roll of her golden eyes, “How you and Harry speak for one another.”

          “Ah, come off now. And you know how Hayrick gets with people calling him Harry, so don’t you let him hear you sayin’ it now.”

          Kiara blew off her older brother’s warning, knowing that there was nothing that Hayrick would do about her calling him ‘Harry’. Since she was little Garrick’s age she had called him that since Hayrick was too difficult for a small child to pronounce correctly and consistently. And with her being the youngest and the only girl in the family, no one, not even their father had ever scolded or laid a hand on Kiara growing up. But that did not mean she was spoiled, not by any means. In fact, she tried just about anything her brothers did, not wanting to be left behind and they indulged her; taking her hunting and teaching her how to defend herself with some simple self defense. Even Andorra helped, believing that ever female should know how to take care of her own, by teaching her daughter how to use a bow and arrow along with a dagger. None of this was considered that odd to Kiara since her father, aunt and uncles used to tell not only her and her brother but her cousins as well, the stories of how Andorra had saved both the men by disguising herself as a man and pretend to have taken Garrick and Royce as her prisoners instead of them being left to the hands of Lord Cristof, who wanted Andorra as his own for her family connections.

Her sister, Elize was at the time betrothed and now married to King Alfred of Phenon and Lord Cristof had wanted to use personal influence of the crown to gain a fortune by any means possible. Regardless of the factor, he never succeeded, for Andorra and Garrick had fallen in love with each other and Cristof was never heard from again, rumored to have been killed by his own hand after hearing word of Andorra and Garrick’s marriage and the bounty on his own head for treason to the crown. Even now though, Andorra was known to still keep a small dagger strapped to her ankle and another hidden somewhere within the folds of her dress.

Standing there, Kieven looked down at his sister with curiosity written on his face.

“What are you looking at or even thinking about, Kiev?” She asked with her hand one her hips.

“Eh, just wondering wither or not you keeps any knives hidden on you as mother does.”

“Oh, I aught to box your ears in!” exclaimed Kiara, and quickly she spun on her foot and headed for the kitchen, leaving him laughing. Just before she got out of ear shot she shouted back at him, “And don’t even think about bedding that new maid or I will do more then show you my daggers, dear brother. I will show you my ability to use them.”

A groan left his lips as he heard the snickers of his and Hayrick’s men behind him, having heard her warning. “Kill my fun why don’t you.” He muttered.

          “And that goes for the lot of you,” Kiara’s voice shouted in the hall again, addressing all of the men, “Don’t you dare touch any of the maids in the keep. Do not bed them unless you have wed them!”

          A bunch of disgruntled murmurs started at that order, but no one questioned it, for everyone knew Kiara was a hopeless romantic who wanted nothing more then for everyone she knew to be married, happy, in love, and with lots of babies.

          Walking up behind Kieven, Sir Sheldon Doxenbury slapped him on the back. “I do not remember taking a vow of celibacy.” He scoffed as he ushered the baffled and slightly embarrassed man back to the feast.

          Kieven sat down and drank the rest of his ale before saying, “Aye, I know my friend.” He nodded to his head guard of the keep. Sheldon had been with the family since he himself was a boy. Now at 42 years old, he was the 2^nd in command to Kieven in Falconhurst and Kieven’s closest friend and confidant.

          Setting his own drink back on the table Sheldon added, “You do realize that none of the men will go against what she says.”

          “Aye, the damn fools listen to her better then me.”

          “True, but she is the lady of the keep, that is until she marries. And I doubt she will ever marry if you do not first, my lord.” He replied as he picked up a piece of bread, taking a large bite out of it. “And you know she won’t let you marry any woman unless it is a love match.”

          “I know, either way I look at it I marry and I am shackled to my wife’s rule. If I don’t, I am stuck with Kiara till death. Either way I am in no luck.” Kieven grumbled.

          “Not unless your wife is submissive.”

          “Not a chance in hell of that. Kiara and my mother would make damnable sure that who ever it is I marry is just as strong willed as they.”

          Laughing out loud to Kieven’s last comment, Sheldon had to take a moment to keep himself from choking on his food.

          “Well then, plain speaking, my lord. You are completely out of luck.”

          “Not really if you think of it. I am not the one whose life mother is meddling with currently.”

          Sheldon raised and eyebrow to Kieven’s last remark. It was well known among the households that Lady Andorra was a habitual matchmaker. In fact it had almost become a type of job it seemed for her, one that she in fact enjoyed and became even more dedicated to since the marriage of Hayrick to the late Morgane, a marriage that she had protested knowing that it was not a love match. Since then she ‘helped’ couples, as she put it, who needed the extra push along into finding love. And thus far she was quite successful with the help of Lady Kiara. Between her and Andorra, they could boast being behind the majority of the weddings that took place between the keeps. It was a rarity for any single man in either keep to be that way for long.

          Which made Sheldon wonder to whose lives was she going to match up next, “Okay, out with it. If not you, then who?”

          “Ah, well my sadly misfortunate brother.”

          “Holy Mother, you are joking surely.” A bewildered look fell onto his face as Sheldon slumped back in his chair. “Hayrick? But to whom?”

          Shrugging as he looked over his shoulder to make sure that Kiara was not there to eavesdrop, Kieven leaned in toward his best friend, and “I’m not entirely sure who it is but I know when that she was up to something when I received a message from Byron about how he over heard Uncle Alfred and Aunt Elize talking about helping my mother find a wife for  Hayrick.”

          “The King and Queen, themselves?” Sheldon blurted out in a hushed whisper.

          Kieven tried to keep back the grin from forming on his face, he always found it funny how people reacted when they heard anything involving the King and Queen of Phenon. King Alfred and Queen Elize were well beloved by the entire country, as were their children Prince Byron, Princess Eva and her children; Brianna and Alfred. The ties between the two families were very strong, with Queen Elize and Lady Andorra being twin sister’s as well. The only way to tell them apart was the scar that Andorra had on her knee from when they were children and she fell off of her horse when it had reared up after it was startled by a snake.

          “Aye, my mother has sought help with her sister.”

          “How do you not know that they were discussing the Crown Prince’s impending marriage?”

          Leaning back in his chair, Kieven took a bite of the roast in front of him. “I asked him that as well.” He said chewing, “But with what I know from him and what my mother has told me, Byron has been fighting his own leg-shackling ever since a date has actually been set and announced last month. But you know what this all means with my mother meddling with Hayrick’s love life right?”

          “No, what?”

          “That I am not the one to be leg-shackled for quite sometime. For it will take mother forever to find a woman who will be able to pull my dear brother out of his current state of mind.” Kieven laughed as he slapped Sheldon on the back who laughed right along with.

 

 

²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²

 

         

          “Papa?” The small child’s voice spoke through the large room that was his nursery. The 3-year-old’s short brown hair laid in light waves on top his head, except for one long thin lock of hair that was braided and hung to the boy’s shoulder with his family’s medallion at the end of it. He was the miniature version of the man in front of him. The one that he was calling to right now, trying his hardest to delay bed time.

          Hayrick turned around from the door to face his son, Garrick, whose small form laid in the middle of such a large bed. A knowing smile formed on his face as he walked back towards the bed and laid down next to the child. Unconditional love shone from little Garrick’s eyes as he looked up at him before closing them to fall asleep, filling Hayrick’s body and soul with something so precious he could barley discount the small pang sadness that wrenched at his heart. For those onyx eyes that looked up with him, showing him all the world in an instant, were the mirror images of the woman who battled and lost her own life trying to bring this child into the world all those years ago. No, there had been no true love between them, to say. Not the kind that would knock you off your feet making you feel as if you were drowning in utter bliss.

Morgane and he had a well established and very close friendship, she had been the youngest of 7 children, and the only unwedded daughter, born to the Lord of Montclair.  A war lord, who Hayrick had inadvertently saved the life of when Montclair was thrown from his horse and slide half way down a cliff side on the Phenon northern coast. Hayrick, who at the time was twenty-three, had been in the area on a hunting trip when he heard the shouts for help. Using the rope off his horse, he tied it to a thick tree and climbed down the cliff side to the injured lord, who laid on a jutted slap of rock hanging out the side of the slope. Montclair was pulled to safety and only sustained a few abrasions and some cracked ribs. But feeling indebted Montclair also made a vow that he was forever in Hayrick’s debt and would gladly give him what ever the younger man’s heart desired. But Hayrick shock his head at all that was offered to him, wanting nothing in return from the grateful man other then the provisions for him and his men to return home.

It wasn’t until after Montclair’s death 4 years later that Hayrick ever came back to Montville Castle, and there he met Morgane as he paid his last respects. The young girl at only 18, was a sweet creature with an enchanting smile, warm heart, and an earthy beauty. Her dark blond hair hung in heavy waves to her lower back where her small hips curved out, but it was her eyes that were intriguing. For they were as dark as onyx, setting off from her hair and light creamy complexion. For a few months he had visited her, offering friendship and asking her advice on matters, anything he could think of, she was someone he felt safe in confiding in. A friend that he didn’t feel any uneasiness with talking to. Then after a few months he stopped by and found her kneeling in the fort’s church crying. Her oldest brother, Rickard the new Viscount, wanted to marry her off to some English nobleman who was visiting, in exchange for estate. Lord Worthe also known as Lord Wrath, was a man that many had heard terrifying things about to say the least. Many people in the English ton and even some of the Phenon lot believed him to have killed his last wife when she failed to conceive after 3 years of marriage. And 4 other wives of his had all mysteriously died under odd circumstances in the past 15 years as well.

Seeing gentle Morgane crying tore his heart in two, and he couldn’t bare to see his dear friend married off to such a vile man. Hayrick immediately took his concerns to the Lord Rickard and made his case known. Even going so far as to offer for his hand instead to prevent her falling into the other man’s hands. When Rickard looked to be ready to reject the offer, Hayrick used his one upper hand. The boon promised to him from the late father and Lord, and knowing the demand of duty in honoring a deceased father’s wishes guaranteed Hayrick that Rickard would have no choice but to accept the marriage proposal. Morgane and he married a month later, both content in marrying someone they considered so dear a friend. But when she died 14 months later, after giving birth to their son, Hayrick could not help but blame himself for it. He had condemned her from one fate to another just by another man’s hands, but this time not out of evil but of loving friendship. He didn’t know which fate was worst.

Mourning for Morgane was something that darkened his soul in a way, save for his son there was very little that made him truly happy these days. He found no desire or pleasure in other woman, found ale to be as dry as sand and food was stale dried wood. No, their match had not been one of love, but a deep friendship that he felt he had ruined and that her death was completely his fault.

Now with little Garrick getting older, Hayrick was starting to see how much his son yearned for a mother in his life. Two days past Garrick had come running to him with the question of ‘why did God take his mother and leave him behind’. Hayrick had been so stunned by the question that it took him quite a few moments to get the look of shock off his face, he then preceded to tell Garrick that no one knew why God chooses who must go and who must stay, but that God loved his mother very much and wanted her to come up to heaven right away to help watch over Garrick. Because who else better to be your guardian angel then your own mama?

Garrick seemed satisfied with that answer and went off to play with the other children in the keep. But it was then that Hayrick realized that he would eventually need to remarry and find a mother for his son. His own mother could only do so much, but there was a distinctive difference in the relationship between mother and child and grandmother and grandchild. And now with Garrick asleep Hayrick sat up pulled the covers up tightly around the child and ran his hand across his son’s face. So peaceful asleep but so energetic and mischievous when awake. Standing up, Hayrick headed out of the room.

Just as he opened the door he heard, “Good Night, Papa.” And a smile spread across his face as he let out a chuckle.

“Good night, pup.” He replied as he closed the behind him and headed for his own bed. Hoping that soon he would know exactly what to do and how to do it. Preferably in that order and without outside interference.