Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  That was enough for the women. They dashed away, hissing at each other, arguing as to who would bring him what, and who would sit by his right hand. He watched them disappear into the rear of the inn.

  “Now,” he lowered his voice once they were free of the wenches. “I suggest we divide and conquer. David, take the blonde and do whatever you want to do with her. But whatever it is, do not take long. I want to make it back to Bowes before nightfall. Marcus, work your magic. I’ve seen what you can do.”

  Marcus laughed softly. “It will be a pleasure. What will you do?”

  Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “I am the only one of the three of us who had two women approach him,” he pointed out arrogantly. “Whatever I do, it will be in pairs.”

  David and Marcus snorted, quieting down by the time the women began flooding back in their direction. Wine and food was presented in copious amounts and soon, they were downing hot wine with cloves and big bowls of mutton stew. It was thick and hearty, full of carrots and turnips, and they ate several bowls of the stuff while the women fawned over them, chatting and trying to engage them, doing everything but laying in their laps in order to gain their attention.

  While Marcus and David were somewhat attentive to the wenches, Christopher was more interested in his food. He would have been happier had they left him alone so, once again, he forced himself to make the effort. They filled his cup before he’d barely even had a sip of the wine and then they would bring him more fresh bread. He spent a good deal of time kissing dirty hands in thanks. The games went on and on, the three men and the five women, for at least an hour.

  Then, things became interesting.

  David was fairly drunk on the hot wine and jiggling flesh at that point. He’d had too much of one and hadn’t had enough lately of the other. He wasn’t really sure how much wine he’d had, but the little blonde wench, named Edith – or Edie – had ended up in his lap about halfway through his meal. Still, she sat there, laughing with David and feeding him pieces of bread. He’d pretend to gobble up her fingers and she would squeal. Then he progressed from nibbling her fingers to nibbling on her neck. Marcus and Christopher, who weren’t quite as drunk, hoped he’d have enough sense to take the woman someplace private before ravaging her. They could see it was coming to that.

  But they’d come here with a purpose. As David nibbled and Marcus flirted, Christopher decided to take the lead.

  It was time.

  “This place is not as busy as I had remembered,” Christopher said to the two women sitting on either side of him. “I suppose it’s the weather, but I thought you’d have more patrons.”

  The women beside him nodded. “It will be busy tonight,” the busty redhead replied from his right side. “When travelers are looking for a place to come in from the cold, we’ll be full enough to bursting.”

  Christopher took a drink of his cooling wine. “It has been fearsome weather to travel in,” he said. “I shall be glad when we reach our destination.”

  “Where have you come from, m’lord?” the woman on his left spoke.

  Christopher threw a thumb in a general southerly direction. “South,” he said. “We were passing near Bowes Castle, but the place was under siege. We quickly made our way around it for I have no desire to be caught up in whatever was happening there. Have you heard of the trouble?”

  “Aye,” the woman on his left answered quickly, before the other woman could because she didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. “We heard about the battle but we don’t know what the trouble is about. Do you?”

  Christopher shook his head, playing dumb. “I could not tell you,” he said. “I thought mayhap the garrison at Cotherstone would know. My comrades and I were thinking of seeking shelter there for the night, but I find your company much more pleasing than a gaggle of soldiers. Haven’t any of the soldiers spoken of the trouble at Bowes?”

  The woman hanging over Marcus slid into his lap, toying with his black hair as he sat there and let her. “They haven’t come to see us as of late,” she said, grinning at Marcus when he winked at her. “They usually come every night but we haven’t seen them the past few weeks. One of the men came over here yesterday, though, because he can’t stand to be away from us. He snuck out through the postern gate. He told us the commander ordered all of the soldiers to stay inside and be vigilant.”

  “Vigilant for what?” Christopher asked.

  The woman shrugged her shoulders, the tattered remnant of her clothing sliding off one arm. Before she could answer, David suddenly stood up with Edie in his arms and, with both of then snickering, carried her away from the table and up a flight of unsteady stairs that led to the upper floor. They could hear Edie laughing as David proceeded into a narrow, low-ceilinged corridor and then they heard a door slam.

  Once the door slammed, the other women began to laugh. “Your friend should pray her husband does not come soon to seek her,” the redhead on Christopher’s right said. “He does not like to share!”

  Christopher and Marcus looked at each other in alarm. “She is married?” Christopher asked.

  The redhead nodded, snaking her arm casually around Christopher’s shoulders. “Aye,” she said. “But I’m not. There’s no chance of an angry husband with me, m’lord.”

  Christopher was trying not to get off-focus. He wasn’t finished interrogating the women about Cotherstone Castle but he was concerned for his brother bedding a married woman. Taking advantage of the wenches in the inn didn’t cover that particular scenario. His brother’s welfare finally won over.

  “What husband allows his wife to work in a tavern?” he asked to anyone who could answer him. “Why would he even permit it? And where is the husband?”

  The women were still giggling, evidently unconcerned. “The money she makes is far better than the money he makes,” the redhead said. “She tells him that she simply serves food, but she serves far more than that.”

  More giggles sounded at the implication of that statement. Christopher was not amused. “Where is her husband?” he repeated.

  The redhead now had both arms around his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. “He is a smithy,” she said. “His stall is at the edge of town, near the river, and he does work for the castle because they lost their smithy last year to illness. He will be here soon to take her home. Whatever your friend is doing, he had better hurry before he comes. Edie’s husband often brings his hammer with him to keep the customers away from his wife.”

  That statement cemented Christopher’s concern for his brother as something very pressing. He looked at Marcus and they both shared the same expression of disbelief. A jealous husband carrying a hammer? They knew immediately what they had to do; finish their business and get the hell out of there. There was a great sense of urgency now but they endeavored to keep it from their manner.

  “Then we should probably tell him to finish his business quickly,” Christopher said, sounding calm enough. “Knowing him, he will not take long. Meanwhile, let us speak more on the battle at Bowes. Had I known there was a battle going on there, I would have avoided it. I hope there will be no battle at Cotherstone before we get clear of the town.”

  The redhead was practically in his lap now. “It’s hard to say, love,” she said, foregoing the “my lord” form of address. She was willing to tell him everything she could as long as he let her get close to him. “Before they bottled up the soldiers, they sent messengers away.”

  He put his hands on hers, stilling her caressing fingers. “How would you know that?”

  She shrugged. “We’ve seen the dispatch messengers before, coming in and out of the castle,” she said. “People don’t think we know much at ’tall, but we do. We know soldiers and we’ve seen enough of them. Mayhap there will be more soldiers coming because of the messengers, but I don’t care about them so long as I have you.”

  He released her hands and they started to wander, rubbing his chest. All Christopher could think about, however, was rider
s being sent out. Before they bottled up the soldiers… that was a few weeks ago, according to her, which was right around the time they started the siege at Bowes. Time enough to send out messengers for reinforcements which, if men and material moved with any speed at all, would not be far away. Even in this weather, they’d had three weeks to plan and move. He struggled to maintain his calm, slightly disinterested manner.

  “Where more soldiers are, trouble follows,” he said, draining the last of his wine. “I cannot say I will remain here if more soldiers are coming. I wonder where they could be coming from.”

  He was trying to draw more out of her, whatever she might know or have heard. She seemed to know quite a bit. He let her snake her hands under his tunic, hoping she’d not really give thought to answering his probing question.

  “Are you not from around here, love?” she asked.

  Christopher shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I am from Gloucester.”

  She had found his skin, now scratching at his warm chest, tickling him. “The riders went south that we saw,” she said. “We saw them pass by, four of them, as the rains fell. We thought it strange because they were riding so fast in the terrible weather, but Bousey – he’s the man that owns this place – he said they were soldiers riding off to tell Lord de Puiset that his castle was under siege. Bousey has lived here many years and he knows much of what goes on in Henry’s wars. Aren’t you fighting Henry’s wars against his son?”

  “I am trying to stay out of it.”

  She believed him, a heavily armed knight, which made her something of a fool. “As I said, Bousey says he thinks the riders were going to Auckland and to Richmond. So there may be more wars around here soon enough. Where are you heading, love? Mayhap I should come with you to avoid the fighting that’s coming.”

  She was chattering on, rubbing the bare skin of his chest, having no idea that with every word, Christopher was growing more and more interested. Auckland… Richmond… aye, he was most interested in what she was saying. And he knew that Juston would be, too.

  “Will you fetch me more hot wine?” he abruptly asked her, holding up his cup. He gestured to Marcus, who had been listening to everything said quite intently. “And my friend needs more hot wine as well. I want it so hot that I can barely drink it. Go, now. Fetch it for me.”

  The two women left his side, reluctantly, the redhead snatching the cup away from the other woman who was just about to take it. As they scurried off, arguing with each other angrily, the woman draped all over Marcus took his cup as well. She left him with a kiss on the nose as she went off to fetch him more hot wine.

  The hot wine had only been an excuse. Christopher wanted the women gone so he could speak with Marcus. When the wenches were out of earshot, he leaned forward on the table and lowered his voice.

  “Word has been sent to Auckland and to Richmond,” he whispered urgently. “Richmond carries a massive army, dedicated to Henry. If they march north and Auckland comes in from the east, the convergence of those two armies on Bowes will be catastrophic. The castle will not be able to withstand it.”

  Marcus nodded. “My thoughts exactly,” he hissed. “Middleham Castle is not far beyond Richmond. If they draw support from that castle, then they will overrun us with no trouble.”

  “The messengers went out three weeks ago.”

  “So I heard.”

  Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “That means they’ve had time to mobilize,” he said. “We must return… now. Juston must know.”

  Marcus was in complete agreement. “He will need to seek reinforcements from Netherghyll as well as Brough Castle,” he said. “That is the closest castle loyal to Richard that I know of. Stephen St. John is in command.”

  “You know him?”

  “I do.”

  Christopher stood up. “I will retrieve David,” he said. “You will go and collect the horses. And hurry.”

  Marcus was on his feet. The sense of urgency was tremendous now that the situation had been made clear – Cotherstone, informed of the siege on Bowes, had sent word to Auckland Castle and, possibly, Richmond, a massive royal property. Worse still, both castles were enormous and had been given time to mobilize. Juston had to know immediately because it was he, and he alone, who had to determine just how strategic Bowes was to Richard’s cause. It could be a massive battle should Brough Castle be pulled into a conflict with Richmond and Auckland.

  The situation was far more volatile than they realized.

  Marcus was already heading to the entry of the inn as Christopher dug into the purse at his belt and drew forth a few coins, tossing them onto the table. Just as Marcus reached the door, it suddenly flew open and, in a flurry of wind and freezing rain, a big, burly man in heavy wool and very worn leather entered. He slammed the door behind him, grumbling, and shook off the water. But there was no denying the man’s state; he was dirty and smelled of cinder. Shaking off what he could of the rain, he stomped past Marcus without noticing him and began to look around the common room as if searching for someone. His movements were edgy, jerky.

  “Edie!” he boomed.

  Christopher, who hadn’t much noticed the man, suddenly looked at him when he began to shout. Edie was the name of the woman David was with. It took Christopher a split second to make the connection between this barbaric-looking man, dirty and ragged, and that lovely blonde creature that had enchanted David. The first thing he did was look to see if the man had a hammer in his hand. He didn’t see one but that didn’t mean one wasn’t buried somewhere in the layers of clothing he wore.

  Christopher’s gaze flicked to Marcus, who bolted from the entry door, undoubtedly heading for the stables to collect the horses. They both understood the need for haste in this matter. The wenches, emerging from the kitchen with their hands full of hot wine, scattered when they saw the burly smithy. The redhead darted over to Christopher, spilling the wine as she went.

  “’Tis him!” she whispered fearfully. “’Tis her husband!”

  That was confirmation of what Christopher already knew. He knew he could dispatch the man, easily, if it came to it. But he’d much rather simply extract his brother from his illicit tryst and spirit the man away. No bloodshed, no fuss. Simply grab David and leave that place. He wasn’t looking for a fight, especially in this case – the husband would have every reason to be furious with David.

  “Hold him here as long as you can,” Christopher muttered to the wench. “Give me time to get my brother away from that man’s wife.”

  The redhead was clearly frightened. “How shall I do that?”

  Christopher pointed to the wine in her hand. “Give that to him,” he said. “Tell him that I have purchased the drink for him. Keep him busy for a minute or two.”

  “I am not sure if I can!”

  “Try!”

  To punctuate his demand, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, which was enough to feed her bravery. She would have walked through fire for a kiss from the handsome knight. Fortified, the wench headed over to the fat, slovenly smithy while Christopher grabbed their saddlebags and slipped from the inn, back out into the freezing rain.

  The storm had let up a bit but it was still an icy mist as he raced around the side of the inn, over to the side he presumed David was in one of the upstairs rooms. He had no way of knowing, of course. It was purely a guess from the direction he’d last seen his brother heading in. But he had to get to the man before the smithy did.

  Standing in the mud and mist, he emitted a shrill whistle from between his teeth, his focus on the two upstairs windows shuttered against the cold. By the third whistle and no movement, he began to call up to the windows, trying not to shout. He didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention from a certain smithy who was inside the establishment, too.

  Where in the hell was his brother?

  “David!” he called. “David!”

  No response. He was preparing to climb the wall when one of the shutters finally pushed open and his bro
ther appeared, naked from the waist up. He was clearly perturbed.

  “What do you want?” he demanded.

  Christopher held his hands up to quiet the man because his voice was loud. “Your companion’s husband is in the common room looking for her,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard. “He is big and mean and probably carrying a hammer. You cannot get past him. You must jump from the window!”

  The frustrated expression on David’s face dissolved into shock. “Husband?”

  Edie suddenly appeared in the window, a coverlet wrapped around what was clearly her naked chest. “My husband is here?”

  She was in a panic. As David stood there, an astonished expression on his face, the door to the chamber must have rattled because both he and Edie turned inward, as if hearing a sharp sound. The next thing Christopher realized, his brother was throwing his legs over the windowsill, now hanging out of it as naked as the day he was born. He didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. Christopher raced up to the man, able to catch him around the legs. David let go of the sill, falling into his brother’s embrace just as the door to the chamber overhead splintered open.

  Wood from the broken door went flying from the open window as Christopher stumbled with his brother’s weight nearly falling atop him. But he managed to keep his balance as his naked brother landed on his feet. Above them, they could hear Edie screaming and her husband bellowing. Not waiting to see the outcome of that particular family argument, Christopher and David raced to the front of the inn just as Marcus came across the road with the horses.

  The animals were hastily tacked, with straps hanging from saddles that hadn’t been fully secured, but it didn’t much matter. They had to leave, and leave in a hurry, and both David and Christopher jumped onto their steeds just as Edie’s husband stuck his head from the second-floor window, bellowing threats to the three knights as they took off down the road.

  David would have frozen to death had Marcus not tossed him a woolen tunic that was hanging from one of his hastily-secured saddlebags, because they weren’t stopping any time soon. David had to dress on the run. There was the chance that the enraged smithy would come after them, so they continued down the road, through the freezing rain, heading south until David began to turn blue and they knew they had to make a hasty stop to let the man put more clothing on. At this point, there was little choice.