“Good,” he said. “You seem like an intelligent girl, Lyla, but if you betray me, I will make sure you go the way of the goat.”
Lyla could only nod her head at the big, intimidating knight as he dragged her out into the daylight beyond.
*
“How do you suppose she is faring?” Thomas asked quietly. “Do you think she has been treated well?”
In the earl’s rich solar, Thomas and Richard sat opposite each other, pondering the question that they had both been contemplating since yesterday. Watching Ryan ride off with a host of St. Austell soldiers had been the most difficult thing either of them had ever faced. Ryan had been the strong one, oddly enough, while Lyla wept and the two men struggled not to break down. It had been a painful and poignant parting. Now, Thomas asked the question they were all faced with.
“I sincerely do not believe d’Vant would like anything to happen to her,” Richard finally said. “He seemed rather intrigued by her. Could you not see that?”
Thomas shrugged, his jaw ticking as he toyed with a cup that had once contained a sweet red wine. He had drunk it all, far too fast.
“He was very possessive of her,” he muttered.
Richard watched the man’s expression; that of a worried father. In truth, he was feeling some worry as well, old worries from long ago. It was something that he and Thomas never spoke of, something long buried in the past. There was a time when more than one man loved the wife of Sir Thomas de Bretagne, Ryan’s mother, and because of that Richard had always been inordinately interested in the welfare of the Lady Ryan de Bretagne. So had Richard’s brother, the king. But that was where the situation had become very complex and was therefore something they did not speak of. It was a situation, and a mystery, long buried, but at moments like this Richard couldn’t help but reflect upon it.
“He was indeed possessive of her,” Richard finally said. “He had every right to be; she is his wife. Would you rather that he be indifferent?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I would consider it fortunate that d’Vant had such interest in your daughter,” he said quietly. But his gaze lingered on the man, the dark eyes flickering with something deep and cunning. “Would you have Ryan home again, Thomas?”
“Without question.”
“So would I,” Richard said casually. “Let us be honest, Thomas; we do not simply want peace with St. Austell.”
Thomas looked at him. “We don’t?”
Richard shook his head. “It would be better if St. Austell and all of her lands and ports belonged to us. As it stands, St. Austell might as well belong to the king and that, my friend, will not do.”
Thomas thought on that a moment. “Odd that you consider your brother an enemy,” he muttered. “I understand the factors behind it, of course, but it still seems strange me.”
“That is because you love and respect your family,” Richard pointed out. “That has never been the case between Henry and me. Were I to hold St. Austell and her ports, I would wield much power against my brother. That has always been the goal, has it not? That is why we have waged such war on the d’Vants; I need what they have.”
Thomas nodded. “I am aware.”
“Now St. Austell is within my grasp.”
Thomas wasn’t quite following him. “What do you mean? It does not belong to you.”
Richard stood up from behind his heavy oak desk, the one that had such marks on it for times when the earl raged and took out his fury on the indestructible piece of furniture.
“There were many reasons for agreeing to a treaty between Launceston and St. Austell,” Richard said, almost casually. “Peace was not among them. Conquest was. Years of warring cannot accomplish what Ryan can.”
“I do not understand.”
Richard wandered over to the long lancet window that overlooked the small inner bailey and the massive wall surrounding Launceston. He couldn’t see much but somehow, his gaze reflected a good deal of vision. There was something in his expression, an aged man with dreams of grandeur.
“Where is Miguel el Mar Diablo this time of year?” he asked softly.
Thomas looked surprised at the change of subject. “Miguel the Pirate?” he clarified.
“Indeed.”
Thomas was still surprised, now curious. “He is usually off the western coast of Cornwall or down near Penzance in the warmer current,” he replied. “Or he could be at his home port in Spain because of the more temperate weather. Truthfully, I have not heard of his movements in months. Why do you ask?”
Richard stared from the window, his wily mind pondering the truth he would tell Thomas.
“He does not have a base in England,” he murmured.
“Nay.”
Richard turned to look at him. “Mayhap that will change,” he said. “I have been giving him a good deal of thought as of late. Miguel has ravaged the coast of Cornwall for years and his men have traveled inland to accomplish their terrible deeds. In spite of the fact that he is a pirate, Miguel has the reputation of a cunning and strong man.”
Thomas was lost. “What is your meaning?”
Richard’s focus returned to the window. “Simply this,” he said. “I have done a good deal of thinking since yesterday. I realize that Dennis d’Vant has proposed an honorable peace, but peace is not something I wish with St. Austell. Years of battling the d’Vants is in my blood. It is a part of me. I cannot so easily discard it.”
“No peace?” Thomas repeated, stunned. “But everything you said about the fact that Dennis is different from his forefathers… you did not mean it?”
“I meant it,” Richard said. “But the fact remains he is a d’Vant. He may want peace, and we may have agreed to it, but that is ultimately not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“St. Austell.”
Thomas’ head was swimming with what Richard was suggesting. “What does any of this have to do with Miguel the Devil?”
Richard smiled ironically. “Miguel is a mercenary; he does what he does for possession and money. Suppose I were to offer him our support against St. Austell in an attack. Suppose I were to offer him the fortress as a reward for destroying the d’Vants once and for all. When it is all over, he would have a castle in a major port city to do with as he pleased, and I would have him as a vassal. We would share in the port tariffs, and the d’Vants would finally be a distant memory. All of Cornwall would belong to me.”
Thomas was horrified. “You cannot support Miguel in an attack against St. Austell,” he said. “You are bound by treaty, and my daughter’s marriage, to support d’Vant.”
Richard was serious. “D’Vant would never know it was me who supported Miguel’s attack against his fortress,” he said. “There would be nothing linking us together other than I would provide him with my men disguised as pirates. Miguel has many ships from what I am told; he can carry many men to the port of St. Austell and lay siege to the castle. In the fortress’ weakened state, it should not take long to overcome it.”
Thomas had moved beyond his horror to outrage and shock. “My daughter is within those walls,” he stood up from his chair, angry. “I do not want her in a fortress under siege.”
“She has been in Launceston during times we were under attack. No harm befell her.”
Thomas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “St. Austell is significantly weakened since the last battle,” he pointed out hotly. “Her safety will be greatly compromised with a horde of pirates tearing it down. Moreover, what if d’Vant should find out you were behind the attack? What do you think he will do to my daughter in that case? Her life will be forfeit!”
Richard pointed a gnarled finger at him. “You overdramatize the situation,” he said calmly. “Nothing will happen to Ryan. I suspect d’Vant will not have the heart to punish her even if he does find out. And Miguel… well, he will not harm her in any case, not when I promise him her hand as the new Lord of St. Austell.”
Thomas’ e
yebrows flew up. “My daughter will not marry a thieving man of dishonor.”
Richard’s patience faded. “Your daughter will do as I dictate, as will you. She, and the fortress, will be Miguel’s prize for doing away with the House of d’Vant once and for all.”
Thomas was speechless. He had served the earl for many years and knew the man to be ruthless, but this went beyond what he believed him capable of. Certainly there had been more than their share of war against St. Austell, but with the peace treaty, Thomas had hoped that chapter had ended. He could see that his hope was in vain.
“Why?” It was all he could think to ask. “There is a peace accord, my lord. Why would you savage it?”
Richard turned away from the window yet again, now moving back to his desk. He seemed both pensive and defiant.
“There are things you do not know about Rodrick d’Vant and my family, Thomas,” he said after a moment, now seemingly weary as he sat on his fine silk chair. “The history between the House of d’Vant and the royal family is intertwined in ways best left unspoken. You must simply understand that I must do as I must and we will leave it at that. You will send messengers in search of Miguel and tell him I would meet with him. Tell him to come to Launceston. I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”
Shaken, Thomas could only shake his head. “I have served you for twenty years, my lord,” he muttered. “You think now to tell me that there is more to the feud between you and the House of d’Vant than the submission of their aggressive nature?”
“Surely you have always suspected.”
“How could I, my lord? I knew only what you told me. If there was more to it, I was ignorant.”
“Be ignorant no longer but ask me no more for I shan’t tell you. At least… not at this moment. Now, send word to Miguel and make haste.”
Thomas could sense mystery and confusion in the earl’s cryptic statement. The House of d’Vant and the royal family are intertwined. He wouldn’t ask any more about it. Even with his daughter involved, he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Perhaps it was another one of those subjects, like his dead wife and the king and the earl, that was best left buried in the annals of time. He didn’t even want to know. All he knew was that he had been ordered to locate a pirate.
A pirate to destroy the peace treaty.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I had no idea St. Austell was such a large fortress,” Ryan said as Dennis escorted her around the exterior of the enormous keep. “You have seen Launceston; it is relatively small compared to all of this.”
Dennis had his wife politely by the elbow, trying to help her steer clear of debris, dogs, and men as they strolled through the inner bailey of St. Austell. There were two walls, one smaller ring inside the larger ring, and the keep sat off-center in the middle of the inner wall area. It was indeed a vast area when compared to Launceston’s tall motte and relatively small acreage. But the whole of St. Austell was of mass destruction as work continued furiously on the north side of the outer wall.
“If you think this is large then you should see the fortress where I fostered,” Dennis said. “It is called Norham Castle, or Northwood to the locals, and it is as vast and big as you can imagine.”
Ryan listened with interest. “Where is it?”
Dennis pointed a finger towards the north. “Near Scotland,” he said. “I was there for twelve years before I earned my spurs.”
“Scotland,” she said with some awe. “I hear there are savages there.”
He chuckled. “No more than anywhere else,” he said. “There are those that believe Cornwall is the ends of the earth, you know. They say there are creatures and vast mysteries here.”
She grinned. “The only creatures I have seen in Cornwall are those of the human male persuasion,” she said dryly. “I have never seen anything mysterious. Have you?”
He shook his head as they headed into the kitchen yard. “Nothing,” he said. “I am disappointed. I have rather been hoping for a dragon since I was a young boy but, alas, it looks as if I shall never have the pleasure of killing one.”
“There are none in Scotland?”
He laughed. “None that I have seen,” he said. “Believe me, when I was squiring at Northwood we tried desperately to find them.”
She was enjoying his sense of humor. In fact, the stiff knight she had first met those few days ago was turning into a rather animated storyteller. He was relaxing around her company, more and more, and his personality was starting to emerge.
“We?” she repeated. “You and your friends?”
He nodded. “I squired with a group of lads at Northwood,” he said. “William, Paris, Kieran, Michael, Marc and I all squired together. I was the only one to return home; the rest of them stayed to serve Lord de Longley. In fact, William is now the captain of Northwood’s army. A better warrior you will never see, even at his relatively young age.”
“How old is he?”
“I would guess he has seen twenty years and eight.”
“Are you much older than him?”
He shook his head. “Three years at most.”
She cocked her head. “That would make you thirty years and one.”
He looked at her, smiling. “You know mathematics?”
Ryan nodded proudly. “The earl taught me.”
His gaze moved over her lovely face and amber eyes. “It would appear that you are an accomplished woman, Lady d’Vant.”
She grinned at him, liking the sounds of her title. Truthfully, she was coming to accept the fact that she belonged to him. A few days ago, it made her ill to think on the fact but at the moment, she was satisfied by it. Dennis seemed to be the only thing about the entire situation that was even remotely pleasing.
But the smile faded from her face as her gaze beheld the kitchens of St. Austell. Like everything else, they were a mess. There were debris and pieces of skin and animals all over the place, with bones and rubbish in piles, and a buttery that was nearly half-collapsed. A little old man and two burly male servants bustled about, and Ryan could see that they were making dough for bread.
The bread was being kneaded and rolled out on a filthy stone and Ryan could see the dirt and grit getting into the dough. She winced as one man dropped some of the dough to the dirt, picked it up and brushed it off slightly, and then continued with what he was doing.
“Oh…God’s Bones,” she hissed softly. “What on earth are they doing?”
Dennis looked at her. “What do you mean?”
She watched the men a moment. Then, she looked rather beseechingly at Dennis. “May I start my chatelaine duties now, my lord?”
He smiled. “I told you to call me Dennis in private,” he said softly. “Have you forgotten?”
She smiled, embarrassed. “Nay,” she replied. “I… I suppose I am still becoming accustomed to addressing you so informally when we have known each other such a short amount of time.”
He was forced to agree. “You do not have to do anything you are uncomfortable with, but know I would be most pleased to have you call me by my name.” He winked at her before turning his attention to the kitchen workers and lifting his voice. “This is Lady d’Vant. She is now chatelaine over St. Austell, and her word is law in the keep and kitchens, even over mine. Is this understood?”
The old cook and his two helpers paused in what they were doing to listen to Dennis’ speech before nodding firmly. The servants were just becoming used to Dennis’ leadership, although he was liked and respected much more than his father had been. He may have been rather quiet, and fairly non-aggressive for a d’Vant, but they all knew what the young knight was capable of in battle. In that aspect, he was more feared than his father had ever been.
Confident the servants understood the chain of command, Dennis turned to Ryan and nodded his head at her, giving her permission to begin her role as lady of the keep. Ryan didn’t hesitate.
“Is there more flour for bread?” she asked the old cook.
The man nodded,
pointing towards a big wooden barrel behind him. Gathering her cloak so it wouldn’t brush up against anything and either catch on fire or become soiled, Ryan made her way over to the barrel and lifted the lid to look inside. Strangely, the barrel was lined with linen to keep out the vermin and the lid was rather snug. It protected the flour admirably. The flour itself wasn’t the best grade but it was acceptable. She tightly closed the lid and turned back to the cook.
“Throw out that dough you have been working on,” she said, gesturing to the big pale lumps on the table. “From now on, you will scrub these surfaces before you make bread and keep the dough clean. I will not have dirt and vermin in my bread. If you do not know how to accomplish this, I will be happy to show you.”
The old cook looked at her with a mixture of fear and curiosity before nodding his head. “I will do my best, my lady.”
She was willing to take the man at his word, at least until he proved her wrong. She began to look around, noting the organization of the kitchen, how ingredients were stored, and the condition of things like the knives on the tables. She began to inspect spoon, implements, and peer inside cups.
All the while, Dennis was watching with growing apprehension. He didn’t know what the cook had done with Bute’s head and found himself praying that she would not find it during the course of her inspection. He watched her as she curiously inspected the kitchen, making her way in the direction of the big bubbling pot of goat stew right out in the middle of everything. They could do nothing to hide that. His apprehension soared.
Dennis held his breath as Ryan noticed the pot cooking away. She peered at the contents and sniffed at it.
“What is this?” she asked the cook.
The old man eyed Dennis with a fearful expression before going to her side. “Stew for supper, my lady.”
“What kind of stew?”
The cook hesitated. “Goat, my lady.”
Ryan looked more closely at it before gesturing towards the large iron spoon on the table a few feet away. “May I have the spoon, please?”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 133
