But they couldn’t turn back. She knew that. Her young stallion had come up lame again and she needed to find a safe haven to tend the horse. In fact, that had been their delay in leaving Jestin – the abscess in the hoof had returned and they had taken two precious days to try and ease it. When the horse seemed healed, they departed for Lioncross but the second day of their journey, the horse came up with a limp, so it had been slow going for the rest of the trip, which was fortunately almost over.
Now, Lioncross was on the horizon.
“How do you feel when you see the castle?” Asmara asked Blayth as they plodded along on the road, which had wound its way around the small hills of the Marches. “Are you still as determined as ever to do this?”
Blayth could hear the doubt in her voice. She was fearful of what was to come and, truth be told, so was he. But it did not diminish his desire to know the truth.
“I am,” he said, turning to look at her. “You should not worry. All will be well.”
Asmara tore her gaze away from the distant fortress, smiling weakly at him when their eyes met. “I am not worried for me,” she said. “Only you. De Lohr is the heart of the Marcher lords and he commands thousands. I feel as if we are walking into the belly of the beast.”
Blayth didn’t blame her for her apprehension. She’d spent her life fighting against men like the de Lohr. He was her enemy.
“You needn’t worry,” he said. “If I am really a de Wolfe, then I will be welcomed.”
“And if you are not?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “I have been thinking about the situation,” he said. “I would assume all English know one another, especially if they have fought in Wales, which the House of de Wolfe has.”
“We know that.”
“So has de Lohr.”
“Do you think they know each other, then? The House of de Wolfe and the House of de Lohr, I mean.”
He nodded. “It would make sense, would it not?” he said. “De Wolfe was at Llandeilo and we know that de Lohr has been involved in Edward’s conquest of Wales. Surely they know each other.”
“And if they do?”
He looked at her, then. “Then mayhap de Lohr will know me, as a de Wolfe,” he said. “I have been thinking he might. If Payton-Forrester is no longer here, then mayhap the earl will know me, or at least of de Wolfe. If I tell him my story, mayhap he will help.”
Asmara didn’t say what she was thinking, which was something not quite as optimistic as he was. She didn’t want to discourage him, not when they’d come so far and this was something he felt strongly that he needed to do, but the sight of the mighty bastion suddenly had her questioning the sanity of all of this. The English were something to be feared, and other than Pembroke Castle, this was the closest she’d ever come to an English stronghold.
The Welsh in her was naturally apprehensive.
“We can only pray,” she finally said. “But they will know we are Welsh. They will hear it in our voices when we speak their language, and it will not sound English. What if they do not believe your story?”
“We shall soon find out.”
Those were words of reason, not of comfort, and Asmara made a face at him when he couldn’t see her. They continued along the road, passing through the small green hills and coming up on the south side of the castle. There was a village to the east, and a fairly large one, but the road to the castle from the south didn’t pass through the village, it only skirted it. Soon enough, they saw the great lion-headed gatehouse of Lioncross looming before them.
The gates were open and people were passing in and out, going about their business, but there was a gang of heavily-armed de Lohr soldiers at the mouth of the gatehouse to ensure against any unsavory characters. Blayth had his eyes on the soldiers as he climbed down from his horse and with a hand gesture, asked Asmara to do the same thing. He was cautious as he approached, leading his horse, planning to say what he’d rehearsed in his mind a thousand times on their journey north. Now was the moment.
He prayed it went in his favor.
Approaching the group of armed soldiers as they watched peasants go in and out of the castle grounds, he was polite in his greeting.
“My name is Blayth,” he said. “This is my wife, Asmara. We seek Sir Corbett Payton-Forrester. Is he here at Lioncross?”
The soldiers looked at him curiously. There was no real hostility, merely interest. They began looking at each other.
“He was here,” one of them said. “I don’t know if he’s gone. Does anyone know?”
The soldiers began shaking their heads at each other. The younger soldier who had spoken first looked at Blayth.
“Do you know him?” he asked. “What do you want with him?”
Blayth could see that the soldiers were looking at the badly damaged left side of his head, and looking him over in general. He was an enormous man, and heavily scarred, and clearly something of interest.
Blayth could feel their scrutiny but he wasn’t self-conscious about it. As long as they weren’t being openly hostile, he could accept their curiosity.
“I have… unfinished business with him,” he said. “He was a prisoner in Wales. It was I who released him so that he could escape. I would like to speak with him.”
That brought a reaction of surprise from the soldiers, one of whom called for his commanding officer. An old soldier emerged from the guard room, speaking to another soldier and sending him off running before turning for the crew at the open gates. The soldiers were waving him over and he moved, rather slowly, until one of the men spoke to him and pointed at Blayth. That seemed to get the old soldier’s attention, and he moved among the men at the gate until he was in front of them, now with a clear view of Blayth.
Like the soldiers, the commander was now looking over the enormous, scarred warrior. He was definitely a curiosity, for all of them. It wasn’t often one saw a man that badly damaged and still standing, so that brought some respect from the old soldier. He approached cautiously.
“I understand you are looking for Corbett Payton-Forrester?” he asked.
Blayth nodded. “I am,” he said. “We have unfinished business. Is he still here?”
The old soldier started to nod, but suddenly, he came to a halt. He blinked his eyes as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing and took a couple of steps in Blayth’s direction. His eyesight wasn’t very good at a distance, anyway, so he had to get closer in order to see the man more clearly and when he did, his eyes widened.
“What… what did you say your name was?” he asked, sounding startled.
“I am Blayth,” Blayth replied. “This is my wife, Asmara.”
The old soldier looked at him a moment longer before drawing back, a look of utter shock on his face.
“Blayth?” he repeated. “Is… is that what you said?”
Blayth wasn’t sure why the man seemed shaken up. In fact, it made him just the slightest bit wary. “Aye.”
The old soldier began to back away, but he was still looking at Blayth. He held up a hand to him. “Come with me,” he said, urgently. “Come into the ward with me, please. Bring your wife.”
Blayth thought the old man sounded rather odd, as if he were either very excited or very frightened about something. His voice was trembling. But Blayth obliged, motioning to Asmara, who followed him cautiously. She was still unsure about the entire situation, now being invited into what she had termed the belly of the beast. They entered the grounds of Lioncross Abbey Castle, passing under the enormous gatehouse with the lion’s head on it, and into a ward that was larger than anything either of them had seen inside of a castle.
The bailey was divided up into sections, with great stone walls creating the barriers, and the old soldier motioned them to a yew tree that was over near a wall that had a soldier’s training area beyond. The tree had wooden benches built around it and the old soldier pointed to it eagerly.
“Remain here,” he told them. “I will return.”
&n
bsp; He started to walk away. “Are you going to tell Payton-Forrester than I am here?” Blayth called after him.
The old soldier didn’t reply. He simply kept walking, very quickly in fact. Blayth watched the man as he headed for the enormous, multi-leveled keep. When the man disappeared through the arched entry, he took a few steps towards Asmara, who was standing beneath the tree.
“That seemed odd,” he muttered to her. “I wonder why he was running like that.”
Asmara was leery about the entire circumstance, more so now with the soldier’s reaction. “I do not like the way they are looking at you,” she said. “Why did he run like that?”
Blayth shook his head slowly. “I do not know,” he said. “But I am sure we will find out.”
It was just a feeling he had.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It had been a very long trip from Wales.
At least, it felt like that. The weather had been excellent and they’d made astonishingly good time. But even so, it had been a long trip for one very good reason: life-changing news was awaiting them and they couldn’t seem to get to Lioncross fast enough.
Bhrodi and Penelope had been at Lioncross ten days now, and it had been ten days of excitement, sorrow, and exhaustion. Even though neither of them had gotten much sleep on the trip from Wales, there was no possible way that Penelope was going to rest once they arrived, and she hadn’t. She wanted answers, as she’d had the entire journey to think about de Lohr’s missive, and what Corbett Payton-Forrester had said about her brother. So by the time they arrived at Lioncross, she was full of questions and nearly frantic about it.
As fortune would have it, Corbett was still at Lioncross, still recovering from his harrowing ordeal. He’d lost a good deal of weight and was fairly weak, so a diet of good food and regular attending from Lioncross’ physic were needed to nurse him back to health.
But that didn’t stop Penelope from interrogating the man until she could interrogate him no more. She’d asked the same questions a hundred times, always with the same answer, and within a day of their arrival to Lioncross, Penelope was convinced that her brother, James, was alive and leading a rebellion.
So was Corbett.
It was problematic even under usual circumstances, but these were unusual ones. A dead man was leading the Welsh against the English, and Bhrodi knew that, at some point, Penelope was going to want to go to Wales to see for herself. He had been preparing himself for the showdown to come, ten days of discussions and intimation from his wife that the next step would, indeed, be heading for Wales.
Of course, he wasn’t going to take her into Wales and that wasn’t going to sit well with her once she came right out and asked him. Bhrodi never denied her anything, nor had her father or her many family members, so a denial to Penelope wasn’t something she was accustomed to. He was going to have to watch her very closely because the woman wasn’t beyond sneaking out when her husband wasn’t looking. She knew that her brother was most likely at Gwendraith Castle, because that’s where Corbett said he would be, and she knew that if she headed southwest, she would eventually be able to find it.
Bhrodi knew he was going to have to keep an eye on her.
The showdown that he feared came on the afternoon of their tenth day at Lioncross. Penelope had spent the morning with Kaedia, Chris’ wife, in the garden of Lioncross, tending the smaller animals that they kept for food and as pets. There was an astonishing bank of rabbit cages, containing more rabbits than Penelope had ever seen, and she was fascinated by the rabbits that were about as large as a small dog. They were friendly, and soft, and she was growing quite fond of them.
But she had also been talking to Kaedia as the woman tended to the hare collection, and Kaedia had strong opinions about family. She knew about the situation with Penelope’s brother and she had told Penelope that she would let nothing stop her from discovering the truth about a long-lost brother. It was an opinion Penelope shared. Therefore, after her visit with Kaedia, Penelope wandered into the stables of Lioncross, near the soldier’s training field, to find her husband tending to his horse.
And that’s when it began.
It was quite innocent at first.
“I was told you were here,” she said, leaning in to Bhrodi as he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. “Is something wrong with your horse?”
Bhrodi shook his head as he watched the smithy file off some of the big, black beast’s hoof. “Nay,” he said. “He has a loose shoe that must be fixed.”
Penelope watched the smithy working on the horse. “His gait was strange on the trip, wasn’t it?”
Bhrodi nodded. “It was, indeed,” he said. “The shoe did not seem loose to me, but the smithy assures me that it was.”
The conversation died as they both watched the man work on the horse until Penelope changed the subject.
“Do you know where I have been?” she asked.
“Where?”
“With Kaedia as she tended the rabbits.”
“I would have never guessed.”
He was jesting with her since she spent so much time at the hutches. She grinned at him. “Kaedia and I were talking,” she said. “Did you know that she has thirteen brothers?”
Bhrodi’s eyebrows lifted. “Then her father has his own army.”
Penelope laughed softly. “I have six,” she said. “That is plenty.”
“Your father would have been happy with thirteen, too. Imagine the damage he could have done with that bunch.”
She grinned at the comment, but that smile soon faded. “Now he has a chance to have a son returned to him,” she said. “Bhrodi, I cannot sit here any longer while James is in Wales. I must go to him; I must see him.”
The hammer had been lowered, just like that. Bhrodi didn’t want to argue in front of the smithy and he could sense that such a conversation was coming. With his arm still around her shoulders, he turned around and pulled her out of the stable with him.
Now, the battle could begin in earnest.
“I understand that you wish to go,” he said patiently. “Truly, caria, I do. But you know what Corbett and Chris have said – it is very possible that James is an agent for Edward and if you go running into Wales to save him, you may ruin everything he has accomplished. Do you understand that?”
“Of course I do,” she snapped softly. “I am not daft. But I cannot believe that he is on any special mission for Edward. Surely, if Edward had any mission in mind for my brother, he would have told my father, and I am positive my father knew nothing. You were not there when he returned home from Wales without James; you have never seen anyone so broken.”
Bhrodi faced her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It is possible that Edward did not want your father to know simply to protect him,” he said. “Even if your father did not know, and James truly is an agent for Edward, what will rushing into Wales accomplish? What do you intend to do?”
She was growing upset. “I must see him,” she said. “I simply want to see if it is him.”
“And then what?”
“Then I will know that he is not dead!”
He was trying not to become irritated with her. “And then what?” he asked. “Will you tell your father? Because you know he will go running right into Wales to see for himself, and that will probably get him killed. Is that what you want?”
She frowned. “Then why did you let me come to Lioncross if you were not going to let me go into Wales to see for myself whether this Blayth is my brother?” she asked. “Your plan was to come here and not take any action?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I am going to take some action,” he said. “You already know that Howell has sent a missive, requesting my support for Rhys ap Maredudd’s uprising. I intend to go to Howell and size up the situation before I allow you anywhere near the Welsh rebellion.”
“But…”
He held up a finger, cutting her off. “When we came to Lioncross, we did not know that
Corbett suspected your brother might be an agent for Edward,” he pointed out. “Now that we know, the situation has changed. I cannot allow you to go charging in and possibly give him away to the Welsh. That is why I must size up the situation first before I permit you anywhere near him. Surely you understand that, Penny. This is a very delicate situation and it must be handled carefully.”
Although it didn’t make her particularly happy, she understood. “I do not want to ruin whatever James has been working towards if, in fact, he is an agent for Edward,” she said begrudgingly. “But there is also the possibility that he is not an agent for Edward. What then?”
“Then we shall decide what needs to be done,” he said quietly. “As Chris mentioned, we cannot allow your brother to bring down the entire de Wolfe legacy. It is a very delicate situation, caria. We will do our best to deal with it.”
Penelope was deeply unhappy that he wasn’t going to let her go into Wales right away. “When will all this be?” she asked. “When do you plan to tell my father?”
“As soon as he arrives.”
She looked at him curiously. “Is he coming here?”
He shrugged. “He should have received your missive six or seven days after you sent it from Rhydilian,” he said matter-of-factly. “Based upon the content of the missive, I would not imagine that your father would wait to come to Lioncross, meaning he has already been on the road for several days. I expect he should arrive any day now.”
Penelope was looking at him, her mouth hanging open. “How did you know I sent him a missive?”
He cast her a sidelong glance, a smile playing on his lips. “Rhydilian is my castle, Penelope,” he said with some irritation. “There is nothing that goes on at my castle that I am not aware of. You paid a stable groom to ride to Castle Questing to tell your father about James after I specifically told you not to.”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 274
