“Thank you, my lady,” he said. With nothing more to say, he looked at Caius. “I think you have already deduced that within the de Wrenville army, there are two factions – those loyal to me alone and those loyal to Covington. My loyalists are few, but they are strong. The men that are here at Hawkstone will obey my commands, of course, but they are filled with greed. Long ago, Covington promised these men a piece of Hawkstone when it falls, which is why they have remained here. The ones camping in the bailey have bloodlust. They cannot wait to get their hands on Caspian, so it is best that the keep remains locked up tight until your return. You do intend to return here at some point, don’t you? Hawkstone will belong to you.”
Caius nodded. “I will return with my army from Richmond, but until I do, I am going to disobey The Marshal’s directive and move his army into Hawkstone to keep de Wrenville away from it.”
Hallam shook his head. “I would not do that,” he said. “He still has a good-sized army. If he sees you move Pembroke troops into Hawkstone, it will provoke him. As the saying goes, you do not want to poke the bear. Leave well enough alone. As long as he thinks we are still negotiating for the keep, he will keep his army at bay. Hopefully long enough for you to return with your army from Richmond.”
Caius understood. “Sage advice,” he said. He looked at the knights standing around. “While we are gone, make sure the men in the keep remain there so no one is the wiser. Max, you need to return to Winterhold and take charge of the Pembroke army in my stead and wait for The Marshal’s reply. Morgan, you will ride to Richmond as fast as you can and mobilize my men – and only my men. Leave The Marshal’s men behind to man the outpost and bring my army to Hawkstone swiftly. There is no time to delay. Kevin, I want you to return to Winterhold with Sir Hallam. You will confirm his explanation that the lady has escaped, and Morgan and I have gone searching for her. Once that has happened, go with Maxton and the army. Remain with them. Young William… you will come with me. I may have need of you.”
As William nodded firmly, prideful that he was the only one who had been asked to accompany Caius, Morgan stepped forward.
“Cai,” he said, his young face serious. “It may be two weeks or more before I return with your army. What are you going to do meanwhile?”
Caius looked at Emelisse. “Take my wife to Wolverhampton,” he said. “I will explain to Edward what has occurred and try to coerce him into joining me against de Wrenville. I have a feeling it would take very little provocation for him to agree.”
With the situation clear, and the men with their missions, there was little to do now but execute them. Caius looked at Emelisse, who smiled at him timidly. There was so very much at stake for both of them. William was already starting to run off, to retrieve the horses, but Maxton grabbed him by the neck as he tried to leave. He kept his grip on the strong but squirrely squire as he faced the group.
“You cannot leave through the gatehouse,” he said. “There are about one hundred angry Winterhold men waiting just outside, angry that we chased them from the bailey. If you ride through them, they will see you leave together and Hallam’s story of the lady’s escape would be for naught.”
Caius nodded. “I realize that,” he said, looking to Emelisse. “Is there a postern gate we can depart from?”
She nodded. “It is behind the keep, in the kitchen yard,” she said. “It leads to a path that either goes to the main road or down to a wooded area next to the brook.”
Caius looked at the others. “Has anyone seen it? Is it heavily guarded?”
It was Kevin who spoke up. “I saw it,” he said. “I pulled Winterhold men away from it, so it is not guarded now, but you can see it from the road and from the area where Winterhold has set up an encampment. You would have to take the path to the wooded area immediately to avoid being seen.”
“Can we get the horses through it?”
“The lady’s palfrey could make it,” Kevin said. “But your warhorse is too big. You’ll have to go through the gatehouse.”
The plans were cast. Caius sent William to bring the lady’s palfrey to the gatehouse while Caius would take both his horse and William’s spirited animal through the gatehouse and meet them around behind.
Everyone began to move.
Caius remained with Emelisse until William returned with her palfrey, still with her satchel from Lady de Wrenville tied to the saddle. Caius then turned the lady over to the squire and as the two of them made their way to the postern gate, Caius hurried to the stableyard, or the remains of it, where the big horses were tethered and eating anything they could get their floppy horse lips on. As he mounted his steed and began to lead William’s skittish beast towards the gatehouse, near the postern gate, something ominous was brewing.
William was feeling particularly important.
He had been entrusted with a very important task, one of leading the lady to safety. He had been on the periphery of the entire situation since riding north with his father, and he had been very excited when Caius had offered to let him squire. That wasn’t an offer that came frequently, for in his world, only the most worthy were able to apprentice with a great knight, and Caius was one of the greatest, according to his father.
William wanted to be one of the greatest, too.
In truth, he knew that he could be a little wild, but he was always obedient where it counted. He was strong, intelligent, and well educated. He had also seen a few battles as a result of his position at Kenilworth Castle. Since Kenilworth was loyal to the Crown, it seemed that anytime there were any skirmishes, Kenilworth and her great master knights we’re always called forth, at least locally.
William was no slouch with a sword.
In fact, he was often used to help train other squires because he was so good with a sword. Other than a whip-smart mind and the ability to make illicit money, that seemed to be where his great talents lay, something that filled his father with pride. In fact, for his most recent birthday, his father had a sword commissioned for him, a weapon that Edward called The Eye. The Eye of the Wolfe was William’s weapon, something that his two older brothers greatly envied because they had not yet earned their weapon from their father. William sword wasn’t the biggest blade he had ever seen, but it was beautifully made, exquisitely weighted, and gorgeously forged.
It was the weapon of a champion.
Even now, he wore the sword at his side proudly. Usually, squires were not armed, but in William’s case he insisted on wearing it and, so far, no one had demanded he remove it, although the master nights at Kenilworth would not let him wear it on a regular basis. He was only allowed to wear it on special occasions, during practice, or sometimes even during a feast because although he was young, the master knights knew that William had enough common sense to know when to use the sword and when not to use it. Their brilliant, wild, gambling squire was strangely trusted more than most when it came to a weapon.
Even now, the beautiful sword hung on his right side in a sheath that had been specifically commissioned for it. As William led Emelisse and her horse through the kitchen yard and towards the iron-fortified postern gate, he was on alert. One hand was on the horse and the other hand was on the hilt of his sword.
As young as he was, he knew what was at stake.
As they neared the gate, no one seemed to be around, so William quickly picked up his pace, yanking the gate open. As he stepped through, a Winterhold soldier abruptly appeared on the other side.
They were both startled to see one another. William dropped the horse’s reins and unsheathed his sword just as the Winterhold soldier let out a shout. Panicked, William knew that shout would bring others and the lady’s escape would be thwarted. Therefore, he did the only thing he could do – he brought his sword up in a flash, goring the man straight through the belly.
But he knew that wasn’t enough, for the man could still live a short while and tell his friends what he had seen. Therefore, as the soldier fell to his knees and pitched forward, William brou
ght his sword up against the man’s neck and nearly cut his head off.
The soldier was dead before he hit the ground.
As the body of the Winterhold soldier rolled down the slope and into some heavy foliage below, William watched with wide eyes as Emelisse rushed up behind him. Having seen what happened, she put her hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Not to worry,” she said calmly, quietly. “You did what you had to do. He would have alerted everyone. Now, come along. Caius will meet us down by the brook.”
She had to tug on William a couple of times to get him moving. He was still in shock at what had happened, at what he had done, but he knew her words were correct.
He’d had no choice.
He’d just killed a man with surprising ease.
William tried not to still look shaken when they met up with Caius several minutes later down by the brook, and Emelisse told Caius what had happened and how bravely William had defended her. She told the story with great flourish, praising the young squire’s quick and decisive actions. Somehow, hearing the story from her perspective didn’t make him feel so bad. In fact, he felt rather heroic with his first kill. He would never forget the look of approval in Caius’ expression.
And then he puked.
He would never forget the laughter, either.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Whitchurch
Because of the incident with the soldier, and in knowing his body would be found at some point, Caius, Emelisse, and William rode swiftly northward to the small village of Whitchurch.
As Emelisse had indicated, their destination was quite close and took them under an hour. After the snowstorm the night before, the roads were muddy with big, dirty snowdrifts at the road’s edge. Even so, the roads weren’t completely impassable, and they were able to make good time as they entered the village through the southern end.
They were met with more dirty snowdrifts that were piled up against the houses. People were out and about, going about their business, as mothers yelled at their children to scoop the snow away so the doorways would be clear. As they watched with some amusement, boys would get their ears boxed when they refused to obey their mothers. They would rather play in the snow than sweep it away.
Whitchurch was surprisingly large for a village and they passed through a big residential district with timber-framed homes and wattle walls before they managed to make it into the center of the city where there were several merchant stalls open for business. The first thing they came to was a man selling meatballs on a stick. He cooked them over an open flame and the tantalizing smells filled the air.
When Caius saw Emelisse and William looking at the cooking meat longingly, he reined the horses to a halt and dismounted.
“De Wolfe,” he said. “Take the horses and find a livery. Hide them well should Winterhold men come to town. We will not be long, but I do not want to take any chances. Tuck them away and return to me. I will be at that large church over there.”
He was pointing northward, where a red-stoned church rose up out of the ground, big and fortress-looking and imposing. William nodded and gathered the horses, but not before passing another wistful glance at the roasting meatballs.
Realizing the lad was hungry, and also in need of a reward since saving the lady from the Winterhold soldier, Caius went to the vendor, paid him a pence, and got two sticks of meatballs for the squire, who gratefully wolfed them down as he walked away with the horses. He watched him go before turning to Emelisse.
“And for you, my lady?” he said. “Meatballs?”
She nodded firmly. “Meatballs.”
As it turned out, she was famished. Caius paid for five sticks of meatballs, three for him and two for her. She very nearly finished one before they’d even left the stall, so he purchased a meat pie she could hold in her hand, and as they walked across the avenue to the church on the other side, she stuffed the rest of the meatballs into her mouth and went to work on the pie. It was beef in cinnamon gravy and by the time they reached the doors of the church, the entire thing was in her mouth.
Caius fought off a grin.
“Mind that it does not all come back up again,” he said. “Do you want to sit down and let your food settle before we proceed?”
Her mouth was so full that she could hardly chew and he started laughing. She was trying very hard not to laugh because the food in her mouth might come dribbling out all over. She finally had to turn away from him as he chuckled, chewing her food and swallowing what was in her mouth. She ended up wiping her lips with the corner of her sleeve because she had nothing else to wipe it with.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I have not eaten since yesterday and you seem to be in such a hurry. I thought I should eat it all immediately.”
“Poor woman,” he said, taking her by the arm and turning her for the church door. “It appears as if you have been starving to death and I had no idea.”
She laughed softly, her white teeth flashing. “I was not starving,” she said. “But I was hungry. I have become accustomed to it over the past three years, not eating so my brother and father could. They were the ones doing the fighting, after all. Unfortunately, my manners have suffered because I tend to eat very quickly. Thank you for the meal, however. It was delicious.”
He pulled open the door of the church. “Let us get through this and I shall take you to an inn and feed you until you cannot hold anything more,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet because they were entering the church. “Your days of fear and starvation are over, Emelisse, I swear it.”
She looked at him, his declaration meaning something to her. She’d gone the past three years eating when she could, and what she could, so that the thought of plentiful food was something of a dream to her. That’s why she ate so fast. She was always afraid that she would perhaps have to share it, or afraid someone would take it away from her entirely. She had learned to eat quickly, as she’d told him. He must have seen the awe and bewilderment in her eyes, for he simply winked at her.
It was a most reassuring wink.
They entered the domain of St. Alkmund’s Church. For being in a relatively small village, the church was quite large. The red stone that it was built with was evidenced all over the inside, with great red pillars supporting the pitched roof. The floor was dirt, and uneven in places, and the entire sanctuary smelled of earth and mildew.
As they entered further into the sanctuary, they could see in places along the wall where water had pooled, possibly from the melting snow outside. It was the water giving the place such a moldy smell. Where the water was in places, the foundation had settled a bit and there were cracks along the wall.
The church also had the distinction of having glass windows, at least on the windows at the altar. There were three of them, overlooking the church, and white beams of sunlight streamed in through the thick panes. Some churches had designs in glass in their windows, but these windows had no designs. No images of saints. They were simple, like the town around them.
There was something pure in the simplicity.
“My mother was buried here,” Emelisse said softly. “Now you can see where I would like my father and brother buried. Before we depart, would it be possible to visit my mother’s grave? She is in the churchyard outside.”
Caius nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But we must find a priest first. Do you know where one might be?”
She pointed to the east side of the church, where there was a small, heavy door. “The cloister is through there,” she said. “We have not attended mass since de Wrenville started his attacks. Papa was afraid to leave the fortress for fear of what would happen when we were gone, so I fear that I do not know who the priests are now. Sometimes, they change.”
Caius understood. Taking her hand in his, he went on the hunt, looking for a priest. The door leading to the cloisters was locked, or so he thought, until he realized that the door was simply improperly hung and jammed. Letting go of Emelisse’s hand, he put both hands
on the door and lifted it, a considerable task for even a man of his superior strength, pushing it into place as he opened it up.
A small, covered arbor was beyond the door and he could see small outbuildings that were more than likely residences for the priests. He took a step outside, pulling Emelisse with him, and had no sooner stepped underneath the arbor when he heard someone calling to him.
A big, bearded, and rather young priest was coming towards him, looking at him with disapproval.
“Is there something you require, my lord?” he asked, but looked to Emelisse before Caius could answer. “Women are not allowed here.”
Emelisse was already rushing back into the sanctuary as Caius faced off against the surprisingly large and virile priest.
“My lady and I wish to be married,” he said steadily. “I am prepared to pay handsomely for it. Will you do this?”
The priest’s eyes narrowed at him, peering at him strangely, but Caius dug into his coin purse and pulled out several pence which, for a poor parish, was a good deal of money. The lure of coinage was enough to stop his scorn and his reluctance. He turned to see Emelisse standing just inside the door in the sanctuary before returning his focus to Caius.
“And you have her family’s permission?” he asked.
“She has no family.”
The priest hesitated. Caius produced another coin.
The priest hesitated no more.
William was just heading up the road towards the red stone church when he saw Caius and Emelisse emerging from the church yard. As he watched, Caius took Emelisse’s hand and led her out into the muddy road beneath the bright but cold sunshine.
William ran towards them to catch up.
“Forgive me for the delay, my lord,” he said. “I could not find a suitable livery, so I had to take the horses to the other end of town and stable them there.”
Caius paused, shielding his eyes from the sunlight as he looked north. “Where?”
Winter of Solace (The Executioner Knights Book 5) Page 23
