Fearsome Brides
Page 15
She intrigued him. And that was exactly why he had followed her out on this cold and dark night. The woman bloody well intrigued him.
“Very well,” he said. “If I am able to spare the men and wagons, then you shall have your escort to Gainford. In fact, I….”
He was cut off by a shout from the outer ward. Cries were echoing off the icy stone walls. There seemed to be a good deal of activity by the gatehouse, men relaying calls to open the portcullis. Suddenly, men on horses were charging into the outer ward. Juston could see them from where he stood. He recognized Christopher and Marcus and David right away but before he could make his way to them, they charged into the inner bailey, heading straight for him.
The horses thundered into the bailey, coming too close, frothing and excited. Juston had to reach out and pull Emera away as frozen earth was kicked up by sharp hooves. Christopher yanked off his helm.
“We’ve just come from Cotherstone,” he said, sounding breathless. “Gather the knights, Juston. They must hear this.”
Juston’s brow furrowed in concern. “What has happened?”
Christopher threw a leg over his horse, dismounting as soldiers came to take the horses away. As Marcus and David dismounted, Christopher took a few steps towards Juston and lowered his voice.
“Much more than we anticipated,” he said. “Let us retreat inside. Marcus and I are famished while David is freezing. I thought we were going to lose my little brother on the ride south.”
It was then that Juston noticed that David was without his mail and boots. In fact, he was dressed rather lightly for such cold weather.
“What happened to David?” Juston demanded. “Where are his boots?”
Christopher glanced at his younger brother as Marcus grinned. “Inside,” Christopher said. “Everyone is going to want to hear this.”
Juston went with the knights back into the keep, all but forgetting about Emera, still standing out in the ward. But she was very concerned with the knights’ behavior as well as very curious. Well, the man had said everyone would want to hear what he had to say. She was “everyone”, wasn’t she?
Knowing full well she wasn’t, she followed them inside, anyway.
CHAPTER TEN
“I believe we may have a very serious problem on the horizon, Juston.”
Christopher was speaking to all of the knights in the smaller chamber next to the great hall. They had been congregated in the great hall as it was, so it was no great feat to move them into a more private room. This smaller chamber, too, had the same pass-through hearth that the floor above had, so the great hall and this smaller chamber shared a very large hearth. It was blazing brightly and smoking heavily as David sat on the hot stones in front of it, trying to warm his chilled body.
Meanwhile, servants had brought food and drink for Christopher and Marcus, but Emera was among those servants. She was busying herself serving the men, pretending she was oblivious to the fact that they had returned to Bowes bearing some kind of serious news. She poured hot wine into cups, wanting to hear what they had to say. If Juston noticed her, he didn’t say anything. He seemed to be solely focused on Christopher.
“Tell me what has happened,” Juston asked. “What did you see at Cotherstone?”
Christopher had his helm and his gloves off, with Gart taking them away and putting them near the hearth to dry off. In fact, Gart was efficiently helping both Christopher and Marcus undress, for both men seemed harried and exhausted.
“It was not what we saw at Cotherstone but what we heard,” Christopher said as someone shoved a cup of hot wine into his hand. “The weather was horrendous for most of the day, as you know, and it took us some time to arrive. There is an inn at Cotherstone – mayhap some of you have heard of it – The Lion and the Lamb.” A few of the knights nodded and Christopher continued. “We went there seeking the wenches that work there, wenches who would know the men of Cotherstone and would, mayhap, be able to provide us with information on Cotherstone and her movements, her strengths.”
Juston was listening intently. “A wise plan,” he said. “What did they tell you?”
Christopher was gulping his hot wine so Marcus spoke. “One of the wenches told us that a few weeks ago, about the time our siege of Bowes began, Cotherstone sent out riders,” he said. “She was positive they were dispatch riders, messengers, and she said they were traveling south. After that, the garrison commander at Cotherstone bottled up the garrison and no one has been in or out since. Juston, if dispatch riders were sent out around the time we began our siege at Bowes, then they have had time to reach Auckland and Richmond Castles. They may have even gone so far as to reach Middleham or Helmsley. In any case, it is quite possible that de Puiset is not afraid to engage you. He could simply be biding his time and building an enormous army to purge you from Bowes. If that is the case, then they have had much time to mobilize. They could be on our doorstep tomorrow.”
Juston’s expression didn’t change but the men who were hearing this information for the first time – Maxton, Kress, Achilles, Gart, Gillem, and even Erik de Russe, who had joined the feast that evening after a day of sleep from his travels, glanced at each other in various stages of concern. If what Marcus said was correct, there was much to be concerned over. After a moment of digesting the information, Juston grunted.
“That is indeed troubling,” he said, almost casually. “It would behoove us to send our own patrols out this very night. It is a clear night and, providing the weather holds, our men would have the opportunity to see far into the distance to note if anyone is approaching. I would suggest we send patrols south and east, and then send our own messengers to Brough Castle and also to Appleby. Richard holds those castles and we can summon reinforcements. We need to hold Bowes at all costs. We must also send word to Netherghyll to send a thousand men to reinforce us.”
Marcus frowned. “If you do that, you’ll leave Netherghyll with a very small army to protect her.”
“The walls of Netherghyll can hold back God himself. I am not worried about her should some fool decide to attack her while she is down on manpower. Besides… anyone who would do that is more than likely heading for Bowes. There isn’t anyone else.”
He had a point. Marcus simply shrugged, returning to his hot drink. Juston, his mind working furiously with the possibility of Bowes soon being under siege, turned to Maxton.
“Max, will you see to sending out patrols?” he asked. “Move them out quickly. There is no time to waste.”
Maxton nodded. “Indeed,” he said. He looked at Christopher who, most times, was his chief nemesis. He didn’t have to like the man, but Maxton respected him as a very astute tactician and commander. “Is there anything else the patrols should know before I send them out? Did the wenches mention riders heading to the north?”
Christopher shook his head, smacking his lips of the hot wine. “Riders to the north or even to the west were not mentioned, but I would think it would be wise of us to send a patrol north just to make sure we are not in for a surprise.”
“Carlisle is north. She can raise a mighty army against us.”
“Exactly.”
Maxton sighed heavily. “If Carlisle enters this fight, then we may as well abandon Bowes now,” he said. “We cannot stand against her armies.”
Christopher could only lift his eyebrows in mute agreement. For once, Christopher and Maxton were thinking alike. Maxton swiftly departed, taking Achilles with him, heading out to form patrols. Meanwhile, trenchers were brought in, steaming pork and beans, cheese and bread. It was enough to get David off the floor and heading to the table, where he began to wolf down his food. Christopher and Marcus, equally hungry, also began to eat.
As the knights shoveled food into their mouths, Juston remained seated, silently pondering the information from Cotherstone. To say it was distressing was an understatement, but one thing was certain – he had to hold Bowes. He’d fought too hard to let her go so easily. Brough Castle wasn’t far and it w
as quite a large fortress, so he knew he could expect heavy reinforcements from Brough and also from Appleby Castle, which was a half-day’s ride from Brough to the north. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t reinforce his ranks with high numbers, but the fact remained that if Richmond Castle and Auckland Castle were coming for him, they would, indeed, bring thousands.
Then it would be a hell of a fight.
“Kress.” He turned to the knight standing off to his right. “I have not seen the damaged wall. You and Achilles were in charge of repairs. How goes it?”
Kress’ expression didn’t suggest much enthusiasm. “Are you asking if we can withstand a siege so soon?” He shook his head. “We cannot. The mortar is not setting in this freezing temperature. The western wall is very weak.”
Juston sat forward on the table, his hands folded in thought. After a moment, he spoke. “If we cannot reinforce that wall, then we will need to keep attackers away from it,” he said. “We can sink spiked poles into the berms around the moat and then again on the other side of it against the walls. Dig holes, set traps, and fill the moat with the bodies of the dead. Did we burn all of them?”
Kress shook his head. “Not all of them,” he said. “We have another pyre we are building for tomorrow.”
Juston leaned back, giving the man a deliberate look. “Do not burn them,” he said. “Throw them into the moat. Get every bit of rotted flesh and disgusting slop into that moat. We have to keep any attackers away from the weakened walls.”
Kress nodded wearily. “Indeed, we do,” he said. “I will put the men on the pikes and moat in shifts.”
“Starting tonight.”
“Starting tonight.”
“See to it.”
Kress set down his cup of wine and quit the small chamber, orders in hand. When Maxton, Achilles, and Kress were gone, it was just Christopher, Marcus, David, Gart, Gillem, and Erik sitting around the small table with Juston. As the fire in the hearth snapped softly, the men ate and drank in silence, but there was a cloud of apprehension hanging over the room. They could all feel it. Taking the castle had been one thing; now, it seemed that holding it would be another.
“Do you still want us to try and take Cotherstone, Juston?” Christopher asked. “That was your original plan. If we take the garrison, then that gives us two castles to hold against Henry. If Bowes falls, then we will have Cotherstone to fall back to.”
Juston was still deep in thought. “It is not big enough to hold all of us,” he said. “It is a very small outpost.”
“We could fall back to Brough,” Marcus put in. “That place is enormous.”
Juston toyed with his half-full cup of wine. “I would prefer not to fall back at all,” he said. “Bowes is mine. I intend to keep it.”
It was a simple statement but a powerful one. Juston had made his wishes known and they would not argue with him. Moreover, they all understood that keeping Bowes was not only a strategic move, but a prideful one. No one wanted to be perceived as weak, least of all Juston.
He would stay with Bowes until the last stone fell.
“I must say that I am quite interested to know why David is without his mail and his boots,” Juston finally said, changing the subject away from the possible doom facing them. “Care to enlighten me?”
The mood of the table changed as everyone looked to David, who was on his second trencher of pork and beans. But he didn’t seem apt to answer the question so Christopher answered for him.
“Suffice it to say that David’s boots and mail were lost during the course of his duties,” Christopher said tactfully. “He was trying to obtain information from a wench and we were forced to leave in a hurry, which meant leaving his possession behind.”
Juston’s brow furrowed. “Why did you have to leave in a hurry?”
“Because the wench’s husband discovered them.”
Gart, Gillem, and Erik, seated across the table from David, burst into snickers, younger men who still had some humor in life. Marcus was fighting off a grin and Christopher was struggling greatly as well. Juston simply shook his head reproachfully.
“God’s Bones,” he hissed. “David, is this true?”
David moved his head but didn’t go so far as to actually nod. “In my defense, I did not know that she was married,” he said wryly. “She failed to mention it.”
“David was forced to flee the inn, jumping from a second-story window as naked as a babe and fleeing, equally naked, on a horse,” Christopher said. “He nearly froze to death.”
Now, Marcus burst into soft giggles but Gart and Gillem and Erik weren’t so discreet; their laughter grew. Juston eyed David seriously.
“Did you lose anything vital?” he asked, poking fun at the man. “Weather like this will snap a man’s ballocks right off his body.”
Christopher lost the battle to giggles at that point, amused at his brother’s embarrassment.
“I did not lose anything vital,” David clarified. “But it was rather painful riding. Worse still, my privates smell like a horse now. I am sure that is a wonderful smell to any mare in season, but I’ve no interest in bedding horses.”
Gart and Erik were howling with laughter at the mental image of David riding with his manhood naked against horse flesh. Even Juston was grinning. He simply shook his head again, drinking his wine as he tried to sober up.
“Mayhap a bath is in order, then, for I do not want you attracting randy horses into the keep,” he said. Then, he looked to the three knights seated across from him. “In fact, I would say that all three of you have earned a hot bath and some rest. Mayhap you should retire for a few hours, as I intend to do. It has been a long day for us all.”
The three knights couldn’t disagree. David went so far as to take his food with him as he quit the room, wandering out into the bigger hall beyond as Christopher and then Marcus eventually followed, all of them off to find a warm bed for the night. Juston finished his wine and bid Gart, Gillem, and Erik a good evening as he, too, had thoughts of that giant bed on the floor above. He was very much looking forward to a night in a real bed rather than his travel cot.
But just as he moved away from the table, he caught sight of Emera as she moved out of the shadows, going to the table to collect the cups that had been left behind. He hadn’t even realized she’d been in the room.
“Lady Emera,” he said. “Have you been here the entire time?”
Emera had her hands full of cups, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and feigned innocence. “Not too long, my lord.”
“How long?”
She shrugged. “I… I helped bring the meals,” she said. “Why do you ask?”
His expression suggested he was not pleased. He crooked a finger at her. “Put the cups down,” he said. “Come with me.”
Emera was coming to think that listening in on his meeting with his knights had not been a wise move on her part. Clearly, he didn’t sound pleased. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure why – it wasn’t as if she was going to run off and tell the men of Auckland or Richmond what she’d heard. She’d wanted to listen simply because whatever the fate of Bowes was her fate as well. She wanted to know what was coming.
But Juston evidently didn’t see it that way. Reluctantly setting the cups down, she followed the man as he led her from the smaller chamber and out into the hall beyond.
When Juston and Emera were gone, Gart, Gillem, and Erik remained at the table, the three of them left in the chamber that seemed oddly quiet now. Even with the spillover noise from the great hall, still, the smaller chamber seemed quiet. The mood was gloomy as a result of the conversation that had taken place there.
“Well,” Erik said, “it seems that I should have remained with Richard. At least the man is knowing peace at the moment. It seems I have walked into a coming storm.”
Gart sat next to his friend, draining the last of his drink. “So it would appear,” he said, setting his cup down. “Now that you have delivered your message to Juston, will you tell me why you
have come? Who is the boy you’ve brought with you?”
Erik sat back in his seat, putting a hand on Gart’s head. “I have missed you, my friend. How long has it been since we have seen one another?”
“Almost a year. Answer my question.”
“I will answer it but you cannot tell de Royans I told you.”
“I will not.”
Erik looked at Gillem, seated down the table from Gart. “You, either, d’Evereux.”
Gillem, who had already had three cups of the hot, spicy wine, shook his head. “I will not.”
Erik’s gaze lingered on Gillem a moment, as if he didn’t quite trust him, before proceeding. He knew if word got out by way of Gillem’s mouth that Gart would take care of the man.
“That lad is the son of Henry and Alys of France,” he said quietly. “He is now the prisoner of Richard and Eleanor. They wanted me to bring him to Juston for safekeeping. Eleanor wants an army surrounding the boy to protect him from Henry; Juston’s army. But after what I’ve heard here this evening, I am thinking on taking the boy to Brough. It is a bigger castle and will protect him from whatever storm is moving in Juston’s direction. I cannot imagine what would happen should the boy fall into Auckland’s or Richmond’s possession.”
Gart was shocked by the news. “That boy is Henry’s son?”
Erik nodded. “You may address him as Tristan. And no one is to know.”
Gart shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “God’s Bones… so the rumors were true. Alys really did bear Henry a son.”
“She did.”
“What are your orders once you have delivered him to Juston?”
Erik went about looking at the other cups on the table, looking for one that still had wine in it. “I am to stay with the lad as his personal protector, at least for the time being,” he said. “That means you are going to be seeing my ugly face for quite a while. I wonder what kind of mischief we can get into.”