A Time of End

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  “Get the body,” he said. “De Lohr will want him.”

  Maxton and Kress came up to collect FitzRoy, one taking the body and one taking the head by the hair, carrying both back to the horses. As Caius helped Maxton heave up the body onto Sean’s horse, Kress went to hunt for something to wrap the head in. The two gate guards, who had watched the entire incident unfold, tried to intervene but Kevin and Bric raised their swords to them and chased the men into the darkness.

  There was no doubt that the witnesses to the event would be eliminated.

  It was a precise, swift operation, not unlike the dozens of operations the knights had completed in the past. No emotion, no fear, no disgust – simply business. They’d had a plan and they’d stuck to it. They would remove the body and remove the witnesses.

  No trace.

  The Executioner Knights lived up to their name this night.

  As FitzRoy was being secured on the back of the Sean’s horse, Sean turned to Alexander and Christin. They were huddled together, with Alexander’s face on the top of Christin’s head. Sean could see in that moment how much this situation had meant to them both. In truth, they’d both been so professional about it that he’d hardly realized it until now.

  Now, he could see the fear and relief.

  “You did well, Christin,” Sean said. “It is rare to see a woman with such bravery and I am proud to serve with you.”

  Christin smiled weakly, looking over to the body that was being secured. “A pity he could not have simply left me alone,” she said. “When he said he was married, I had hoped my troubles were over.”

  Sean lifted his eyebrows. “That,” he said, “was a distinct surprise.”

  “What will you tell the king?”

  “I will tell him that I delivered you as I was ordered,” he said. “Beyond that, I know nothing. And neither do you. Let your father handle this from now on.”

  Christin nodded as Sean’s gaze moved between her and Alexander before turning and heading back to his horse. Christin watched him go for a moment before turning to Alexander.

  “I will make sure my father knows that you saved me,” she said softly. “That was a very brave thing you did.”

  Alexander gave her a squeeze. “As I said, I could not stand by and watch,” he said. “But I thought you might be angry at me for intervening. I did not mean to steal your glory.”

  She snorted. “Glory?” She shook her head. “I think I have had enough glory to last me for a while. I think I would prefer to be Lady de Sherrington and let that be glory enough.”

  He grinned. “Do you mean it?” he asked. “You are going to give up serving The Marshal without resistance?”

  “You told me you did not want your wife going on missions.”

  “And you said we could serve together like Achilles and Susanna.”

  She laughed softly. “Mayhap we will, someday,” she said. “But for now… now, I simply want to go home. With you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Home where? I do not have a home and the only home you have is Norwich Castle.”

  “Lioncross Abbey,” she said softly. “I want to go home to Lioncross and I want you to come with me. Please, Sherry. Take me home.”

  His smile faded. “As you wish,” he said, stroking her hair. “Let’s deliver FitzRoy to your father and ask his permission if I may take you home. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “And then I will ask for permission to marry you.”

  She chuckled. “Hand over FitzRoy when you do,” she said. “That way, he cannot deny you. The body of his enemy in exchange for his blessing.”

  It was the way such bargains were struck in the world of the Executioner Knights. Grinning at one another, the pair headed back to the horses but as they were sharing a special moment, Kevin was having a moment of his own.

  Over in the darkness, he was brooding. He’d just chased down one of the stupid gate guards and put his sword through the man’s belly to silence him, but as he headed back to the group as they prepared to ride off, he was becoming more and more disturbed.

  It had to do with his discussion with Alexander the night before and how the man had lectured him on how he treated his brother. Truth be told, Kevin didn’t serve with his brother that much and this ride to FitzRoy had been a rare occurrence. He usually avoided Sean at all costs, but that hadn’t been possible over the past couple of days. He’d watched how the other knights seemed to have such great esteem for Sean, something that Kevin used to ignore.

  But now, he wasn’t ignoring it.

  Watching Sean and Alexander interact with Christin and FitzRoy had him thinking heavily on his brother and the man’s sacrifice. He served the king, yet he clearly enabled Christin and Alexander to kill the man’s bastard son. Kevin had always known Sean walked a fine line between keeping the illusion of Lord of the Shadows and working with The Marshal and his spy ring to keep the country safe. That had never been in dispute. But what he saw tonight… tonight, he realized just how much Sean was risking.

  It was complicated, confusing, and dangerous, but through it all, Sean did his duty.

  And Kevin had hated him for it.

  Perhaps that’s why he was so disturbed at the moment. He was starting to see what everyone else saw. Alexander’s words had impacted him more than he cared to admit, that stubborn younger brother who was so terribly hurt by his older brother’s actions. Perhaps that really was the problem all along; Kevin knew how great Sean was. He’d idolized him his entire life, so when Sean became the Lord of the Shadows, Kevin had been hurt and confused by it.

  His brother deserved so much better.

  But Sean clearly felt what he was doing was better.

  Kevin had been stewing on it since yesterday and as the men began to mount their horses, he made his way over to Sean, who was tightening up one of the ropes on FitzRoy’s headless body. Perhaps Kevin just didn’t want to stew anymore, or perhaps he simply needed to get things out in the open, but he came up on the other side of Sean’s horse, looking at the top of his brother’s head as he bent over the body.

  “Sean,” he said quietly.

  Sean glanced up but when he saw who it was, he went back to work. “What is it?”

  “I just wanted to say…” Kevin stopped and started again. “I just wanted to say something. When we were very young, we went into town with Father because he wanted to purchase candied grapes and lemon rinds from the woman in the village of Pool for Mother. She was dying at the time and wanted the sweets. Do you recall that moment?”

  Sean paused in tightening the ropes, confused with the topic of conversation at this ill-timed moment. “I do.”

  Kevin scratched his ear as he tried to think of the right words. “Do you also recall that I stole a stick that had candied apple slices on it? Just because I wanted it?”

  “I do, indeed.”

  “I was very young,” Kevin said. “I was nearly four years of age, I think. You were six. I was old enough to know better, however, and I greedily ate the apple slices. You saw what I’d done and you took the stick from me just as Father caught sight of you. He punished you for that and you never told him that I was the one who stole them. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Sean returned to his ropes with slower actions now. “Because you were my little brother,” he said simply. “It was my duty to protect you.”

  Kevin spoke softly. “You are still protecting me. Only now, you are protecting all of England, too. You are still the big brother, taking the blame for things that are not of your doing.”

  Sean didn’t look at him, but he was no longer fumbling with the ropes. He was simply fingering them. “What would you have me say, Kevin?”

  Kevin could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t know why, but he was close to crying. Perhaps because there was a history of Sean being a martyr for the greater good and he could see that now. He’d put it into a context he could understand and, suddenly, he didn’t hate Sean so
much anymore. He was starting to understand all of it. He opened his mouth to speak but a sob caught in his throat.

  “I hate that you have to take the blame for a man who is not worthy of you,” he said, his lip trembling. “I hate that the man I love and admire most in this world is reviled and hated. Mayhap I do not show you the respect you deserve on the surface, but inside, I love you like I have always loved you. I just hate that you have done this to yourself, Sean. I… I am trying to come to grips with it and I will continue to try. I promise I will. But I do not hate you. I just thought you should know.”

  Even in the darkness, Kevin could see the tears glistening on Sean’s cheeks and he turned way, but not before releasing another sob. He simply couldn’t help it. Emotions he’d kept bottled up for years were coming to the surface whether or not he wanted them to. Here, of all places. But he quickly wiped his face and took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself as he headed over to his horse.

  He’d said what he needed to say.

  It was the right thing to do.

  As the sky began to cloud overhead, the agents of William Marshal departed the small bailey of Fairstead and headed out into the night, taking the road back to Dereham.

  Kevin rode with Sean all the way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It hadn’t been much of a fight.

  In fact, Christopher’s army saw about an hour of serious fighting before the royal soldiers began to surrender in droves. Perhaps that was because they’d lost about one-third of their numbers in that hour, or perhaps it was because they’d grown lazy and simply didn’t want to fight anymore.

  Whatever the reason, Christopher had sixty-one prisoners surrender to him by midday and by nightfall, he decided to send them all back to John with their weapons stripped and their tunics torn up and vandalized. Come the next morning, he planned to do exactly that.

  While his men guarded the prisoners in a field south of town, Christopher and David and Peter had supped heartily and slept in The Cock and Bull, a tavern that they found to be a step above most. The food was excellent, the beds soft, and Christopher was awakened before dawn the next morning by Peter, shaking him gently.

  “Papa?” Peter whispered loudly. “Papa, wake up.”

  Christopher had been sleeping heavily, enjoying his first real sleep in days. “I am awake,” he muttered. “But you had better have a good reason for disturbing me.”

  “I do,” Peter said. “Christin has returned!”

  Christopher sat up so quickly that he nearly hit his son in the chin. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Peter was pulling him out of bed. “She just rode into the livery,” he said. “Sherry and Maxton and Sean and the others are with her. They brought her back!”

  Christopher was in his breeches and a thin tunic and nothing else. He yanked on his boots, tying them haphazardly as he rushed out of the chamber after his son. He was just passing David’s door when he kicked it open, revealing David passed out on his small bed.

  “David!” he hissed. “Get up! Christin has returned!”

  David struggled to rouse himself, rolling out of bed and ending up on the floor as Peter and Christopher continued down the stairs into the common room of the inn. As David scrambled up and grabbed his boots, Peter and Christopher were already out the door, rushing over to the livery just as Christin and Alexander and the rest were dismounting their thoroughly exhausted horses.

  The first thing Christopher saw was the headless body on the back of Sean’s sweaty horse. He came to a halt, peering at it and suspecting who it was before he was even told. Sean, seeing where Christopher’s attention was, made his way over to him.

  “It’s FitzRoy,” he said as he wearily removed his helm. “Christin and Sherry made short work of him.”

  “Sherry killed him because he was trying to kill me,” Christin said as she came out from between a couple of horses. She went straight to her father and they embraced tightly. “Sherry saved my life, Papa.”

  Christopher was holding her so tightly that he was certain that he was squeezing the life out of her, but she clung to him tightly as well. The joy of having her back in his arms, safe, was almost more than he could bear.

  “Are you well, sweetheart?” he asked. “He did not hurt you, did he?”

  Christin shook her head, releasing her father but realizing he had no intention of releasing her also. She had to pry his hands from her.

  “I am fine,” she assured him. “Did you hear me? Sherry killed him.”

  Christopher took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself because he was so damned relieved to see her. “I heard you,” he said. “Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

  “We reached Fairstead Manor, which is FitzRoy’s home,” Alexander answered him. He was standing a few feet away, back behind the butt of a horse, and all attention turned to him as he spoke. “When we arrived, FitzRoy came to speak with us and Sean told him that his father wished for him to marry Christin, but there was an immediate complication with that because FitzRoy was already married.”

  Christopher’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “He was?” he said. “And John did not know this?”

  Alexander shook his head. “He did not,” he said. “FitzRoy ranted about how his father never cared for him, so he’d evidently married without permission.”

  That changed the entire dynamic of the situation and the impact wasn’t lost on Christopher. In truth, he was stunned.

  “Christ,” Christopher hissed. “So FitzRoy was already married. But what happened that you had to kill him?”

  “Because he considered Christin a gift and wanted to take her as his whore,” Alexander said. “She fought against him valiantly. But in the end, I stepped in to end it. I was not going to stand by and watch her fight for her life.”

  “And that is how he ended up headless?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Where is his head?”

  “Here,” Kress said, lifting up a bloody tunic he’d wrapped around the skull. “He is in pieces, my lord.”

  Christopher stood there a moment, pondering the situation, before going to Kress and collecting the head. He opened up the tunic enough to examine the state of the head before wrapping it back up again.

  “The damage to his face,” he said. “How did that happen?”

  “When your daughter hit him in the face, twice,” Alexander said. “As I said, she fought valiantly, but I delivered the final blow before he could gain the upper hand.”

  “I told you that he saved me, Papa,” Christin said, wrapping her hands around his forearm and gazing up at him with her big, gray eyes. “Does that not deserve a reward?”

  Christopher knew what she meant, the little minx. Like her mother, she knew how to manipulate him. He was so glad to see her that his defenses were down and she knew it. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow at her before handing the head over to Sean.

  “You are going to take the head and the body back to John,” he told him. “You will tell him that I killed FitzRoy in retribution for the abduction of my daughter. I am the one who delivered the death blow and I captured you and your army and forced you to return the body to the king along with a message.”

  “What message might that be, my lord?” Sean asked.

  Christopher’s eyes narrowed. “Tell him that if he ever seeks to touch my family again, in any way, that I will find him and I will kill him. That is my message to the king, Sean, and know that I mean it. If you stand in my way, I will consider you the enemy as well. I will have little choice. Do you understand me?”

  Sean nodded. He wasn’t offended. In his position, he couldn’t afford to be. “I do, my lord,” he said. “John… it could go either way with him. He will either single you out for a vendetta or he will leave you alone.”

  “He hasn’t left me alone for twenty years.”

  “There is always a first time for everything, my lord.”

  Christopher nodded as if he didn’t quite
believe that. “We shall see,” he said. “In any case, the remainder of the king’s troops are south of town, being held captive by my men. I shall have Peter take you over there with a sword to your back so that your men believe I captured you also and gave you FitzRoy’s body. That should keep the illusion of your loyalties alive for them.”

  Sean nodded. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Christopher reached out, clapping Sean on the shoulder. “You do valuable work for us, Sean,” he said. “I would never knowingly betray your position and I would kill anyone who tried. That being said, get back to John and deliver my package. If he is wise, he will let things lie. If not…”

  They all knew what was at stake. Sean tied the head off on his saddle and with Peter to his back, led the horse back down the road, towards the group of men being held by the de Lohr army. As he faded into the coming dawn, Christopher turned to the other men around him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For helping regain my daughter, I am indebted to all of you. You are all great men in your own right and I respect you for it. Except for Maxton, of course. I reserve a special sentiment for him.”

  Everyone grinned except for Maxton, who pursed his lips wryly. There was no love lost between the him and Christopher, yet they would die for each other without question. It made for a strange relationship, indeed.

  “If Sean is heading back to London to deliver FitzRoy to the king, I do not think it would cause The Marshal too much trouble if the rest of us took the day and night to sleep,” Maxton said. “None of us has slept very much in the past few days. I could use a good meal and a soft bed myself.”

  Christopher waved him off. “All of you need a good meal and some sleep,” he said. “I will send Peter to The Marshal to report on what has happened because I am quite certain that my son has slept more than the rest of you have, and also because I doubt Sherry is going to want to take the time to report to the man even though he is the mission commander. He has other things on his mind.”