But William didn’t look at them, nor did he acknowledge them. He was focused on Paris, still standing where he had left him. Marching up on him, he came to a halt and folded his arms across his chest expectantly.
“Well?” he said.
Kieran spoke before Paris could reply. Things were so fragile that he didn’t want them to get off on the wrong foot.
“I have an idea, William,” he said. “First of all, I lied to get you out here. Paris has not offered to apologize to you, but I believe we have hit upon a compromise to satisfy everyone.”
William scowled. “What?”
“The Helm of Shame.”
William had been gearing up to blast both Kieran and Paris, but when he heard Kieran’s words, he cocked his head at the man in confusion.
“The Helm of Shame?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?”
Kieran focused on him. “Would you be willing to admit your son should face some measure of punishment for his actions?”
William sighed sharply. “What he did was not ideal, but…”
“And if Hector impregnated Evelyn, would you say the man needed to be punished?”
“I’d bloody well kill him.”
He said it so fast that he didn’t really have time to think on what he said and, in that moment, Paris looked at him in shock. Realizing he’d been caught with the same attitude that Paris now had, William rolled his eye and looked away.
“So now you have it,” he said. “I would kill the man, but not literally. But I’d certainly make sure he felt my rage.”
Kieran was fighting off a grin. “Exactly,” he said. “And Paris wants Troy to feel his rage, as well. As a father, that is his right. Would you not agree?”
William bobbed his head impatiently. “Fine, Kieran,” he said irritably. “What do you have planned? Clearly, you have something on your mind.”
“As I said, the Helm of Shame would be ideal.”
William couldn’t help it; he started to smile, but he bit his lip. “Troy would rather face Paris in mortal combat than assume the Helm of Shame.”
Kieran was trying hard not to smile. “Not if he does not know it is coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you willing to help?”
William eyed him dubiously. “Me? Help?”
“He’s your son. If anyone should deal out punishment, it should be you. He damaged the de Wolfe name by impregnating a young girl.”
“The impetuousness of youth.”
“And if some impetuous youth did that to your daughter?”
He was bringing that reasoning to bear again and William threw up his hands in surrender. “Very well,” he said quickly. “I get your point. But what in the hell do you want me to do?”
“Like Paris, you are going to stand by while I deliver the punishment.”
“You? Why you?”
“Because I have no stake in this,” Kieran said. “I am simply the vessel by which to deliver the fair and just punishment. You and Paris are going to present a united and agreeable front to such judgment. Troy will take it like a man or risk completely shaming the de Wolfe name.”
“And he wouldn’t dare.”
“Nay, he would not.”
William sighed heavily again before looking at Paris. “And you agree with this?”
Paris nodded, once. “I do.”
“And you will be satisfied?”
“I will.”
“And Troy will marry Helene and this will be the end of it?”
“Indeed.”
Because Paris agreed, William agreed. “Very well,” he said. “But how do you intend to do this? Troy will not make an easy target.”
Kieran shrugged. “That will be up to you,” he said. “Take him to the stable and have Troy remove his armor and weapons. Paris brought several soldiers with him. I saw them outside of the gatehouse. Those soldiers will pin Troy down while I deliver the punishment.”
William wasn’t so sure. “Someone might get hurt. Troy will fight viciously.”
“Not if he doesn’t see them coming.”
William still wasn’t sure about this, but it was better than Paris trying to kill his son. Maybe there was a small part of him that didn’t want to see Troy humiliated like this but, on the other hand, Troy did do wrong. He did deserve to be punished.
Maybe this was the lesser of the evils.
“Go on,” Kieran said. “Let’s get this over with.”
As he turned towards the stable, William turned for the keep but Paris stopped him.
“William,” he said quietly, firmly. “Wait a moment.”
William stopped, turning to the man he knew best in the entire world. “What is it?”
Paris cleared his throat softly. “I really wouldn’t have killed your son,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to get in a few good licks, something he would remember from his future wife’s angry father. I… I am sorry if I sounded unreasonable.”
William simply shook his head. “You are unreasonable,” he said. “You’re a big, unreasonable dolt and sometimes I want to shake you until your head falls off and your bones turn to dust. But I also love you, you idiot. Just do me a favor.”
“What?”
“If any of our children marry in the future, and my sons become too amorous, don’t do this again. We can always reason through any situation if you’d only stop being so stubborn.”
Paris gave him a smirk, like he wasn’t entirely sure there would be a time when he wasn’t utterly stubborn, and William smirked in return.
All was right in the world again.
But the worst was yet to come.
William managed to convince the de Wolfe brothers to stand down. He told Patrick and Scott that Paris had decided not to violently seek his revenge and instructed the pair to go into the keep and stay there. They did, but it was begrudgingly, as William took Troy out to the stables.
The stable was mostly void of servants, as it was after the animals had been fed, so they were out in the yard while William and Kieran and Troy were quite alone. But the moment the three of them entered the stables, William and Kieran began to strip Troy of his weapons and armor.
Troy protested at first, but gradually just stood there, exasperated, as his father and uncle stripped him down to a tunic and breeches. He was puzzled at what they were doing, but he suspected that he was in for a tongue lashing from Paris and they didn’t want him armed. He was willing to accept that in lieu of a physical fight.
But he had no idea what was coming.
He soon would.
His first clue that something was out of the ordinary was when he was hit from behind. He’d been standing with his back to the stable door, but that had been intentional. Bodies with many arms and legs slammed into him and he went down, face-first, into the dirt of the stable. He tried to fight, but he’d fallen on his arms and because he’d instinctively put his hands out to brace himself for the fall, he was fairly certain he’d broken a wrist.
There were a lot of men piled on top of him.
Troy could hardly move, but he was giving it his best. He could move his head because he was only pinned from the shoulders down. He caught a glimpse of his father’s boots a few feet away.