“That is a foolish tactic, de Lohr,” Maxton rumbled.
Christopher focused on him. “Why?” he asked. “Because we choose to give ourselves more of a fighting chance by meeting de Puiset out in the open? What Juston said is correct. This is a compromised fortress. If we have the opportunity to remove the army and set up a defensive line rather than remain inside walls that will surely fail, then why would we not take that chance? Moreover, de Puiset will have unlimited opportunity to resupply while we slowly starve to death and the walls give out under his bombardment. I do not plan to die here, Maxton.”
Maxton gave Christopher a rather disapproving look, but when it came to those two, they were used to disparaging looks and remarks between them. It was simply the way of things between them and although no one had ever thrown a punch or, worse, raised a sword, everyone was aware of the contention. But Christopher and Maxton were too professional to let it go any further than that.
But Juston knew it was better not to take chances with them. Christopher could wipe out ten men in a sword fight and not even raise a sweat, while Maxton wouldn’t be quite so noble about it. He would cut low and use tactics that some might consider unsavory. He would do whatever he needed to do in order to win. Therefore, it was simply better not to let things get out of hand.
“Nor do I intend to die here,” Juston said. “When I die, it will be in a battle where I know I have done my best to survive it. That means we do not trap ourselves in this fortress that I spent three weeks battering. Therefore, my decision is as follows – we prepare to move our army out of Bowes and meet de Puiset somewhere between here and Gainford. We will set the lines and dare him to come over to us. Max, send several patrols out. I want them watching all roads leading in from Auckland and all river crossings. At the first sign of de Puiset and his army, they are to return to us with all due haste so we have time to move our army into position. Is that clear?”
Whether or not Maxton agreed was not at issue. He’d been given a direct command and he was sworn to obey it.
“It is,” he said, resigned.
Satisfied, Juston turned to Christopher. “You and your brother and Burton will begin preparing the men to move out,” he said. “This is no different than the situation a few days ago when we thought Richmond would be moving against us except that instead of waiting for them to come to us, we will go to them. We sent men to Brough and to Netherghyll, if you will recall, and I expect to hear from Brough very soon. We will continue on the assumption that they are still moving in to reinforce us.”
Christopher nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
With that settled, Juston turned to the rest of his men. “Kress, you and Achilles make ready the supplies to take with the army, leaving enough behind for those who remain in the castle,” he said. “Erik and Gillem, you two will see to the wagons and the animals we will need. Anything we will take with us to an army encampment, you will also see to. Get with the quartermasters and make sure we are fully prepared. Are there any questions?”
The men shook their heads. Juston’s gaze drifted across their faces, men he had served with for years, men he trusted with his life. He’d been in this position, many times, heading up a battle, preparing for it, knowing what lay ahead. He hadn’t failed up to this point and he didn’t intend to start now.
“And so, it comes,” he said quietly. “This is a show of force, gentle knights. Make no mistake about it. We will defeat de Puiset and send him back to Auckland like a beaten child. This engagement will serve as a warning to anyone else who feels the need to move against us. After we meet de Puiset, we will take Cotherstone, as I had planned, and we will hold this road for Richard. With Brough Castle loyal to Richard, and Appleby, we will be the third and most valuable jewel in the crown along this road leading from the north into this part of England. With time, I would expect to move on Richmond and Auckland at some point. I will send word to Richard of our great victory here and our foothold, and he will be very proud of all of us. This is a glorious move for Richard and the future of England, so bear that in mind. We must triumph.”
Juston’s word meant a great deal. It was something that made him a great commander, the ability to put into context the value of certain situations. The men were fortified now, encouraged, and they had their orders. No longer were they waiting for an army to come to them. They, in fact, were going to rise to meet the incoming army and chase them back to where they came from.
As Juston had said, they must triumph.
Triumph or die trying.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Emera met Juston on the spiral stairs. She was going up just as he was coming down.
In fact, in the darkness and given the fact he was moving swiftly, he very nearly plowed into her and sent her tumbling. Only his quick reflexes saved her from falling back to the bottom of the stairs. She gasped in fright as he put his hands on her.
“Sweet Mary,” she gasped, gripping the side of the stairwell. “I did not see you coming.”
Juston let her go when he was sure she was stable. “I pray I did not injure you.”
Emera shook her head. “You did not,” she said, looking up at the man but not seeing much more than an outline in the darkness of the stairwell. “I am well.”
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to the kitchen to see to the meal for the wounded.”
He shifted direction, politely taking her elbow. “I will accompany you,” he said. “I must speak with you.”
And I must speak with you, she thought. But she didn’t say what she was thinking. An afternoon down in the vault, focused on her duties, had helped calm her mind somewhat. At least now she could speak to him about Gillem’s allegations without feeling an inordinate amount of resentment towards him. Even running into him unexpectedly in the stairwell didn’t rattle her much to that regard.
In fact, as he took her elbow and helped her up the stairs, her heart began to flutter again and her palms began to sweat. It was the same reaction she’d always had to him as if there had been no terrible revelations from Gillem’s lips. Still, she had to know the truth. As they emerged from the stairwell into the great hall, she spoke.
“What did you need to speak with me about?” she asked.
At this time of day, there was virtually no one in the great hall other than the servants. It was an hour or two away from meal time and Juston’s men all had duties to attend to, even the lowliest soldier. Preparing for a coming battle would keep everyone busy. Therefore, Juston could answer her without fear of being overheard.
“I have just left a meeting with my men,” he said, slowing his pace before eventually coming to a halt and facing her. It was then that he noticed she’d changed her clothing and combed her hair sometime over the course of the day. Never had he seen such a beautiful woman and it was difficult to stay on task. He would have much rather talked about her than of the subject he was about to broach. “As you know, we ran into a few of the Bishop of Durham’s men in Gainford. That is why we returned to Bowes so quickly.”
Emera nodded. “I know,” she said. “At least, I heard Sir Christopher as he told you of his encounter with the bishop’s knights. I understood that you did not want the bishop to try and attack our party before we could return to Bowes.”
Juston nodded. “I apologize that I did not explain it to you fully at the time, but we were in a hurry,” he said. “That is why I wanted to explain things to you now. There have been some… developments.”
She was interested. “Oh?”
Thinking that perhaps they should sit for a few moments, he took her elbow and began leading her over to one of the big feasting tables, in fact, to the table he had so recently been sitting at with his knights.
“You are aware of the conversation I had with my men after the de Lohr brothers and Marcus Burton returned from Cotherstone,” he said. “You are aware that we believe messengers were sent out to Henry’s supporters in the area when I began the siege at Bowes.�
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Emera remembered the great argument they’d had over that subject when he thought she’d been eavesdropping. She didn’t want to enter into that discussion again, fearful to start another argument. “I recall,” she said. “I did not run off and tell anyone if that is what you are wondering. I told you that I would not and I haven’t.”
He smiled thinly. “That is not what I was wondering,” he said. “You have had no opportunity to leave the castle, so I know you’ve not run to tell anyone. I was simply bringing up that conversation to preface what I am about to tell you.”
She wasn’t sure that she believed him but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. “I see,” she said. “Then in answer to your question, I remember all that was said. Why?”
He indicated for her to sit once they reached the table and she did. He sat down somewhat close to her. “Because that conversation ties in directly with what happened in Gainford today,” he said. “We have been preparing for an assault by Henry’s forces who want to reclaim the castle, but because de Puiset will know we have been in town this day, I fear it will hasten his response. He will think we are threatening all of Durham now, not just Bowes.”
Emera considered that information. “I am not a fighting man so I do not know what, exactly, that means,” she said. “Are you telling me you believe he will most certainly lay siege to Bowes now?”
Juston nodded. “That is exactly what I mean. But there is a problem – Bowes spent three weeks being bombarded by me. I damaged it severely. The western outer wall took a beating and we have been trying to repair it, but the mortar will not set because of the cold temperatures. That means it is very weak. If the castle is attacked, then I am not sure it could withstand it. It could be easily breached in spite of our precautions.”
Emera thought that it all sounded rather frightening. “What will you do if de Puiset attacks, then?”
He sat forward in his seat, which coincidentally moved him closer to Emera. “I intend to take my army from Bowes and meet him on the field of battle somewhere away from here,” he said, his voice softening. “I will take my army and form a defensive line he will not be able to pass. But that means that whoever is left here at Bowes risks remaining in a compromised fortress, with few men to protect it, should de Puiset overwhelm my army and make a run at the castle. It means… it means that I do not want you to remain here when I go to meet de Puiset. I want to send you and your sister south, to Netherghyll.”
Emera looked at him in surprise. “Leave Bowes?”
“Aye.”
She eyed him for a few long seconds and it was clear that she was deliberating his rather astonishing suggestion. “I am not sure….”
He cut her off. “Please, Emera. I am removing my entire army from Bowes. If it is attacked, it will fall. I do not want you here if that happens.”
She was still clearly uncertain. “So you would send me to your home?”
He nodded. “Netherghyll is a vastly fortified castle and you would want for nothing,” he said. “When de Puiset is tamed and Bowes is secure, I will come to you there.”
It sounded as if he was suggesting that they could be together, or even that they were together, and that he had intentions that would lead to something permanent. Until the day she died, she would swear that both his manner and his words suggested such things. Gillem’s words suddenly came back to her in an avalanche.
My sister bore his bastard… he is trying to do the same thing to you!
“Why?” she finally asked.
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She couldn’t quite look him in the eye as she spoke; it was too upsetting, painful even. “Why would you return to me?” she asked. “All of those things we said to each other in Gainford… you told me you never had any intention of remarrying, Juston. You said many things that led me to believe there is to be no future between us. Why would you send me to Netherghyll? To become your concubine? You said that you found me beautiful and brilliant and brave. Did you only say that so I would bend to your will, so that I would agree to anything you demanded?”
He cleared his throat softly, almost nervously, and looked away from her. “I said them because they were true.”
“Then all I can ever be to you is a concubine?”
“I never said you would be a concubine.”
“Then what?”
He hung his head, sighing faintly. “I do not know yet.”
“When will you know?”
“I told you – I do not know.”
“Is this the same thing you told Gillem’s sister before you took her to your bed?”
His head snapped to her, caught off-guard by a most unexpected question. The eyes flared for a moment, his mouth working, but he said nothing, at least not right away. But the spark of rage had ignited in the depths of his green eyes.
“Who told you that?” he finally asked.
She looked at him, then. “Does it matter?” she asked. “I have been told about Sybilla and the son you had with her. Did you tell her these things, too, and then when she became a burden, you discarded her?”
He stared at her, his eyes glittering with shock and outrage. He stood up, swiftly, and took a few stomping steps away from the table as if determined to leave her presence and not answer her question, but ultimately, he didn’t leave. He raked his fingers through his hair angrily as he paced around, shaken.
“Gillem,” he muttered. “He told you that, didn’t he?”
Emera wasn’t intimidated by his agitation in the least. By his reaction, she knew she hit on a vein of truth.
“It does not matter who told me,” she said. “Is it the truth? That you had a child with Sybilla and refuse to marry her?”
Juston looked at her, his jaw ticking. “It is not your place to question my decisions or my motives.”
“It is when you tell me you want to send me to Netherghyll and that you will come to me when the threat against Bowes is over,” she pointed out. “Juston, you are behaving as if you want me to mean something to you. If you want the same behavior from me, then you must be honest with me.”
“What I do and who I do it with is none of your affair.”
Now, he was starting to rile her. He was being stubborn and defiant and, in her opinion, unreasonable. She had every right to defend herself from him if his motives were immoral. She was only trying to get to the truth of the matter but he refused to cooperate. The great and mighty Juston de Royans was being questioned, probably for the first time in his adult life, and he resented it. Standing up, Emera began to move away from the table.
“You are absolutely correct, it is none of my affair,” she said crisply. “You are none of my affair. Therefore, I will remain at Bowes, come what may. I am not going anywhere regardless of the battles that might consume this place. I would rather stay here and be bombarded to death than go to Netherghyll to become your caged pet.”
He snatched her by the arm before she could get away completely. “Stop,” he commanded. “Stop before this gets out of control and we say things we do not mean. I do not wish to return to the first few days that we knew each other, Emera. I do not want to fight with you any longer.”
She didn’t struggle against him as he held her, but there was anger in the air. Breathing was coming heavily. “Then tell me the truth,” she said. “That is all I require and I do not believe it is asking too much. Tell me why you did not marry Sybilla and tell me why you wish to send me to Netherghyll.”
She was asking him to bare his soul, to discuss things with her he had never discussed with anyone. Juston de Royans’ decisions were not to be questioned, ever, yet she was doing so. She was asking something of him. If he wanted something of her, then he knew he would have to answer her questions. Still, it was difficult. He wasn’t sure he could do it.
“You ask too much,” he muttered, letting her go. “I do not need to explain myself to you. Lest you forget, you are my prisoner. I can do with you as I wish.”
He simply looked at her, his frustration mounting. Why did she have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t she simply do as he asked?
“You ask about things that do not concern you,” he repeated. “I have told you this before. You ask too many questions.”
That only served to frustrate her further. “Where my life is concerned, I have every reason to. I have only heard one side of this story, Juston. I am asking to hear your side. Do you not trust me enough to tell me?”
Juston’s jaw ticked furiously. Did he trust her? Oddly enough, he did. This had nothing to do with trust… did it? Was it possible that he was ashamed to tell her, ashamed that his lack of control beget a bastard? He didn’t even know. But it was increasingly clear that he had to tell her something. He had to force it out.
“If you must know, I will tell you what happened so you do not believe me to be ignoble or careless,” he said, his voice low. “Lady Sybilla and her brother attempted to trap me into marriage. She seduced me when I was drunk and conceived a child. Both she and her brother hoped I would marry her and when I refused, they went out of their way to tell people that I am a heartless bastard with no honor. Aye, I know what Gillem says about me. I am not a fool.”
Some of Emera’s anger faded as she listened to what turned out to be a rather terrible story. “That is dastardly!” she exclaimed softly. “Why do you permit him to serve you?”
Juston cocked an eyebrow. “Have you ever heard the old saying – keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”
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