A smile flickered across Troy’s lips as he bolted towards his war horse, in a stall at the end of the stable. Paris came to stand next to William and Kieran as Troy quickly prepared his mount.
“That was a most appropriate punishment,” William said, looking to Paris and Kieran. “I thought shaving his head was a clever touch.”
Paris was trying hard not to smile. “He’s going to get married like that now,” he said. “I had an uncle who looked like that. He was bald in spots, so he grew his hair long to try and cover up the bald and it ended up looking like a jester’s cap.”
William chuckled, looking to Kieran. “And Troy will never look at you the same way again.”
“That is good,” Kieran said. “If he thinks we’re going to catch him again so I can sit on his head, he should behave himself from now on.”
William continued chuckling, finally shaking his head. “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “What friends I have.”
“The best,” Paris muttered.
As Kieran nodded fervently, Troy suddenly charged past them, riding his horse over to the next stable where the tack was kept. As he blew by, William pointed a finger at Paris.
“The best, indeed,” he said. “But the Helm of Shame is only the latest tool in an arsenal of tools we have collected over the years. Back when we were forcing Kieran to wrestle other squires and place bets on the winner, we had a tool for collecting bets from those who would not pay. Do you remember what it was?”
Paris burst out laughing. Given how this day had started, it was so good to laugh with William and Kieran again. Being at odds with them simply wasn’t natural.
“Of course I do,” Kieran said because Paris was still chortling. “We would find them, tie them up, strip off their clothing, and twist their nipples until they screamed.”
William started laughing. Just the sound of Kieran saying that as if they’d had every right to do it made him laugh. Self-righteous torture was always hilarious.
“God,” he muttered. “We bruised many a young squire that way. I seem to remember putting hay in between their toes and lighting it on fire, too.”
“We were cruel,” Paris said. “Cruel, vicious, and conniving. No wonder they separated us. How old were we when they did that? About fourteen years of age?”
“Something like that,” William said. “It was great fun coming of age with you two. I do not know what I would have done without you.”
The feeling was mutual. They spent several minutes reflecting on their time at Kenilworth, when William ran a large gambling ring that had made them all very rich until the master knights found out. After that, it was big trouble for the brilliant squires, young men who couldn’t seem to keep out of trouble.
William had managed to tame his naughty streak over the years and, nowadays, he kept it well buried, but he wasn’t beyond indulging in a game of chance now and then. No one would play with him, however, because he always won. As evidenced by the events of the evening, Kieran really hadn’t tamed his naughty streak, either, nor had Paris, although they only gave in to the urge under appropriate circumstances.
As the three of them reminisced about a particular gambling circumstance when Kenilworth had competed in a tournament in Gloucester, their revelry was cut off when two small, beautiful women entered the stables.
Jordan, William’s wife and Troy’s mother, charged into the stable, her expression nothing short of murder. Right behind her came Jemma, Kieran’s wife. Instantly, all smiles were gone as Lady de Wolfe and Lady Hage glared at the men.
“Who did that tae Troy?” Jordan demanded. “In the name of Christ and his saints, if ye dunna tell me, I’ll take a stick tae every last one of ye. Who did that tae my lad?”
Her Scottish burr got heavier when she became angry, making her sound quite intimidating, but William was trying desperately not to laugh. His wife was enraged and all he could picture was Troy with his head half-shaved, looking like an idiot. He tried to push that image out of his mind so he wouldn’t start giggling.
He didn’t think his wife would take too kindly to it.
“Troy was punished for actions you are well aware of,” he said steadily. “You will not interfere, Jordan. If Troy wants to be a man, then he must take his punishment like a man.”
Jordan’s gaze moved to Paris. “Ye did this,” she said, her voice low. “Ye came here tae punish my lad and ye made a fool out of him.”
Paris lifted an eyebrow at a woman he genuinely liked. “He made a fool out of me when he betrayed my trust, bedded my daughter, and beget her with child,” he said. “I took my pound of flesh, Lady de Wolfe. I had every right. Be grateful I did not do more than that.”
Jordan was furious, but she was also sensible. She knew she didn’t have a leg to stand on. Her son had gotten himself into a predicament, impregnating Paris’ daughter, and she knew the man had every right to exact justice.
Still, the sight of her son’s head shaved except for a rough patch on the top of his head was something she’d never forget. After a moment, she simply shook her head.
“Did ye take yer lesson from one of the many fathers whose daughters ye undoubtedly compromised?” she wanted to know. “Did someone do that tae ye, Paris? Do ye remember the humiliation? That is what Troy is going through right now. Why would ye do tae him what was done tae ye?”
“He’s a devil, that one,” Jemma growled. She and Paris had shared a contentious relationship since the day they’d met. “Wicked and stupid. He shamed yer lad and is laughing about it.”
Kieran caught his wife’s eye, shaking his head faintly at her, but it did nothing to shut her up. She simply glared at him.
“And ye?” she said. “Did ye cheer him on or did ye try tae stop him?”
Big, calm, and wise, Kieran had married a spitfire of a woman. He’d had eight children with her and he loved her to his very bones, but she was a handful even in the best of times. He decided to take the bull by the horns because he wasn’t going to spend all night arguing with her.
“I did not cheer him on,” he said, heading out of the stable. “I was too busy sitting on Troy’s head. He had earned the Helm of Shame and he’s fortunate that his punishment was so mild.”
Both Jordan and Jemma looked at him in horror. “Ye did that disgusting thing tae him?” Jordan cried. “How could ye do it?”
William and Paris were following Kieran’s lead. If they stayed in the stable, they’d be arguing with women all day long.
“Troy took his punishment like a man,” William said as he walked past his wife. “And I will no longer discuss this with you. This is Paris’ business and you will kindly stay out of it.”
Jordan and Jemma stood there, mouths open, as William, Kieran, and Paris headed out of the stable, out into the day that was deepening. Looking at each other in both surprise and outrage, the women followed them out of the stable but they were cut short when Troy, astride his war horse, came rushing towards them.
“Mother!” he said excitedly. “Did Papa tell you?”
Jordan could hardly stand to look at her handsome son with only one patch of long hair on his head, hanging in his eyes.