Chad clapped him on the shoulder one last time before dropping his hand. “Agreed,” he said, feeling the angst in Davyss’ words as he spoke of Simon. “But for now, we shall go home and regroup. If you need me, however, all you need do is send word. I, and the Canterbury army, will respond.”
Davyss smiled faintly. “You are a true friend, Chad,” he said. “Thank you for everything.”
Chad simply smiled in return; words weren’t needed to reaffirm their bonds. They were strong and true. As Davyss returned to his ale and Chad resumed his drinking, the front door to the tavern opened again, ushering forth more men in armor. The wind blew in behind them, scattering leaves across the hard-packed floor of the tavern. Chad was just bringing his cup to his lips when Stefan grabbed his arm.
“Chad,” he hissed. “It’s de Moray!”
Chad nearly spilled his drink as Stefan jerked him about, pointing him towards the entry. Chad could clearly see the big, hulking frames of Bose de Moray and his son, Garran, as they entered the establishment. The elder de Moray, Sir Bose, was a legend in the annals of England, a man with a long history with the king. Years ago, he had been the captain of the king’s personal guard but the ensuing years saw him leave his post, marry, and become a great warlord with a sizable army.
The man, even at his age, continued to fight for the king even though his daughter had married one of the de Shera brothers, the same brothers who had retreated from Evesham after de Montfort’s defeat. The de Moray/de Shera relationship was another one of those alliances where blood ran deeper than loyalty to any one side, and de Moray was greatly respected by Henry and de Montfort allies alike. Chad was too far away to effectively get the man’s attention so he had Perrin and Rhun, who were closer to the door, call out to him.
“De Moray was with Henry last I heard,” Chad said through clenched teeth, watching as his knights captured Bose’s attention. “He left the battlefield with him. What in the hell is he doing here?”
Davyss watched the big knights lumber over in their direction. “I do not know,” he muttered. “But I do not think I like it.”
“We told him we would be here and invited him to join us, but I did not think he would show himself. He never has before.”
Davyss turned back to his drink. “As I said, I do not like that he is here,” he said. “Mayhap he has come to take me to Henry so the king himself can punish me for my ties to de Montfort. ’Tis not as if I have ever made them a secret.”
Chad didn’t say anything. He was more interested in watching Bose and Garran as they approached the table. Both men appeared particularly weary. Truth be told, he was as wary as Davyss was about their appearance and something told him to be on his guard. He wasn’t even able to open his mouth to greet de Moray before Bose was on him, his black eyes intense.
“Praise God that you are still here, Chad,” Bose said, relief in his expression. “I was not sure I would still find you here.”
Chad didn’t like the tone of his voice. There was much seriousness there. “And so you have,” he said, trying to remain casual. “Will you drink with us, Sir Bose?”
Bose shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “It is not for hospitality that I have come. I have just come from Henry and there are dealings afoot that you should be aware of. In fact, all of you should be aware of it.”
He was looking at the collection of knights, all of them loyal to Henry. The de Lohrs closed rank, as did de Russe and du Bois and de Winter, all of them curious about what news de Moray had brought them. Already, the mood was quite grim and sobering, and they didn’t even know the why. Any alcohol happiness they had been experiencing was summarily quashed.
“What is it?” Chad asked seriously, although it was difficult considering his head was still swimming with drink. “What has happened?”
Bose looked directly at Chad. He wasn’t the oldest knight of the group but he was the most respected. He was always the leader, in any situation, and men listened when he spoke. Bose knew this, which is why he directed his words to the man.
“Henry is going after de Shera,” Bose said, lowering his voice. “They were the most outspoken in their support of de Montfort and Henry’s first order of business is to force Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius into submission. He will threaten to take their lands and titles if they do not support him.”
Chad struggled to think clearly at the news, which wasn’t all that surprising, considering. “But… Tiberius is married to your daughter,” he said. “Will you rally to his defense?”
Bose lifted his dark eyebrows, tinged with gray. “Henry has asked me to ride to Isenhall Castle and present a proposal to the Lords of Thunder that they surely cannot refuse,” he said, sounding disgusted. “I have agreed to mediate. But that is not the problem, Chad. The problem lies with Aurelius de Shera, their cousin. I assume you know the man.”
Chad nodded. In fact, all of the knights were nodding. “I know him,” he said. “He is a cousin to the Lords of Thunder; their fathers, Antoninus and Julius, were brothers.”
Bose nodded. “Although Antoninus died years ago, Julius de Shera was still alive until he fell at Evesham.”
Chad’s grim mood sobered further. “He should have never been there,” he said. “My God, the man was in his seventh decade. He should have never ridden to battle.”
They all knew that the elderly de Shera had ridden to de Montfort’s aid because he felt strongly, as the oldest living de Shera male, that he should be the one to lead the family, even over his very powerful nephews: Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius. It had been a mistake, for Henry’s archers took him out very early in the battle.
“Julius fell and left it up to Aurelius to lead his troops,” Bose said, frustrated. “When the battle concluded and the Lords of Thunder retreated to Isenhall, Aurelius fled north with the de Wolfe army. He retreated back to The Paladin and left his father’s body on the battlefield. There wasn’t the opportunity to retrieve it.”
Chad felt as if he were rehashing the entire battle again, reliving what he was trying hard to drown away with ale. “I know all of this,” he said. “My brothers made sure that the canons at Evesham Abbey retrieved and buried Julius’ body once de Montfort supporters had retreated. Why are you telling me this again?”
Bose’s angular jaw ticked. “Because Aurelius left someone behind and unprotected from Henry’s wrath,” he said. “Aurelius’ sister, Alessandria, is a ward at Newington Priory, west of Rochester. Since you are from Canterbury, I would assume you have heard of it.”
Chad nodded. “Of course I have,” he said. “I know where it is.”
Bose grunted. “So does Henry,” he said. “He is sending men to collect the girl as we speak and hold her ransom against the surrender of the Lords of Thunder and their cousin, Aurelius.”
Chad frowned. “Holding a ward of the church hostage?” he hissed. “That is madness.”
Bose simply nodded. “Mayhap,” he said. “But that is Henry’s intention, nonetheless. He told me of his plans and assumed I would keep it to myself, but I cannot. This girl is part of the House of de Shera and by virtue of that fact, she is related to you and to me. We cannot let Henry take the girl hostage, Chad.”
Of course, they could not. It was terrible news, indeed, and the ale was clouding Chad’s mind as he thought on what he’d been told. The implications were even bigger than he could grasp and he put a hand to his head, rubbing already-throbbing temples.
“Would Henry truly do this?” he asked, baffled. “He would hold a de Shera hostage to force the entire House to their knees?”
“That is the sum of it, aye.”
“But he knows the House of de Lohr will support de Shera, always. Does he realize what he is doing?”
“I do not believe he is thinking along those terms. He believes the House of de Lohr will support him no matter what. De Lohr is the crown.”
“Not when he forces us into a choice between the crown and family.”
“I agree.”
“I thought you would think so,” Bose said. “There is no time to waste. Henry’s men were preparing to leave when I departed London so I can only imagine they are already on their way.”
Chad realized he had a task ahead of him, now with the burden of a swill-head. He struggled to think clearly, to shake off the wooziness. He turned to his brothers and cousins.
“You heard the man,” he said. “Get the horses ready. We must ride for Newington Priory and we must get there before Henry’s men do.”
Stefan, Chris, Arthur, and William were already moving. Perrin was slower because he was quite drunk, being pulled along by his cousin, William. Jorden and Rhun began to move, also, only being mildly inebriated. There was a sense of determination now and all of the knights were moving with purpose as Chad remained with Bose and Garran. While Garran wandered to the table to steal a cup of ale before he and his father continued on, Bose remained with Chad.
“Henry is bent on vengeance, Chad,” Bose said quietly. “You must warn your father. He will not take kindly to your support of the House of de Shera, especially when he discovers you have the hostage he so badly wants.”
Chad thought on that a moment. “I cannot believe Henry would actually demand that my father stand against the Lords of Thunder,” he said. “Their mother was great-uncle Christopher’s youngest daughter. She married Antoninus and, to be truthful, I have only met Julius twice in my life, the second time being at Evesham. A very old man who should not have been there.”
Bose couldn’t disagree. “How well do you know Aurelius?”
Chad shrugged. “Not well,” he said. “I have heard the man has a foolish streak in him, something I’ve heard from Gallus and Maximus. They do not like him much.”
Bose grinned wearily. “And the sister?” he asked. “Have you ever met her?”
Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he said. Then, he eyed Bose. “But after what you have just told me, I will soon enough.”
Bose clapped the man on the shoulder. “Godspeed, then,” he said. “I ride to Isenhall. Send me word when you can about the girl. Gallus and his brothers will want to know.”
“Make sure they understand that we will protect the girl with our lives. She will be safe.”
Bose nodded. “I know they will be grateful.”
The mission was set now; there was no turning back. Chad wouldn’t even if he could. He took a last drag on a cup of ale when he knew he shouldn’t. He found that he needed it. So much for relaxation; he was heading back into the fray, possibly worse than before, going to save a girl from Henry’s clutches. He couldn’t believe he found himself in this position. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Better to get the girl, take her to his father, and then be done with it. She would be his father’s problem after that.
Without another word, he and Bose parted ways. Bose and his son headed from the front of the tavern while Chad went through the back, drunkenly weaving his way out into the kitchen yard beyond even though he was trying very hard to pretend he was sober. Across a small avenue was the livery stable where the warhorses had been lodged and he found his men there, cleaning hooves and brushing down the horses, making sure they were prepared for the trip ahead.
They didn’t dwell overlong on the preparations, however, knowing it was essential they beat Henry’s men to the priory. The horses were hastily groomed and saddled, and while Davyss and Hugh headed for the outskirts of London to Wintercroft Castle where their wives were in residence, Chad and his brothers and cousins and knights headed southeast towards Kent where the Newington Priory had just become a very popular destination for Henry as well as for those who opposed him.
Not that the de Lohrs opposed him yet, technically, but with this latest development, every man wondered if that wasn’t where the situation was heading.
Would they soon be at odds with the very king they had rescued from de Montfort, a man they were sworn to obey?
That was the question that no one seemed to have an answer to.
CHAPTER TWO
Alessandria hadn’t been out of Newington Priory for six years, not since she had been sent there by her father because she had been fairly incorrigible at Orford Castle where she had been fostering. It wasn’t so much that she had been incorrigible as it was that she and the lord’s wife didn’t get along. The woman seemed to hold a grudge against Alessandria, being a beautiful girl, because the Lady of Orford’s daughter was plain and homely, with a mean streak in her, and Alessandria and the daughter would get into scrapes constantly. Alessandria didn’t take kindly to bullying.
But that wasn’t the story that got back to Julius de Shera. The story he heard was that his daughter was terrible and nasty, and in need of discipline, so without even speaking with her to get the truth behind the complaints, he sent her to Newington Priory where the nuns could see to her discipline. Julius had hoped a holy beating or two might help his daughter mend her ways. More than that, he simply didn’t want to be bothered with her.
But quite the opposite happened at Newington Priory – without the constant taunting, Alessandria settled into Newington very nicely. She was obedient to the nuns because they treated her with surprising respect and she found that priory life suited her well. She even made new friends there, girls that had been her friends for the past six years. She considered Newington her home and dreaded the day when her father would send word to either recall her back to The Paladin, her family’s home, or notify her that she had been betrothed to some lord she’d never even heard of. Either way, Alessandria knew she didn’t want to do either. She wanted to remain at Newington and become a nun. They had, in fact, been some of the only people who had ever been kind to her.
Therefore, the appearance of eight hulking knights demanding that she accompany them had come as something of a horrifying shock. She’d never even really been around men, and especially not for the past several years, and the fact that she found herself on the front of a charger as they raced through the black night was utterly terrifying. She understood that there was some threat and hazard afoot, from the king no less, but she still wanted to go home. She didn’t want to go wherever these men were taking her.
Yet, they’d made it clear she had no choice. They’d swept her from the priory and out into the blackness, so black that she could hardly see a hand before her face. There were men with torches up ahead, trying to light the path, but it was dangerous going as they tried to keep pace, to stay one step ahead of men they had said were coming for her. What if, in fact, they were Henry’s men? What if they had lied to the prioress about everything?
Then she was in a good deal of trouble.
Alessandria came from a long line of powerful men and strong women. She wasn’t a tall girl, or even very big for that matter, but she was strong in both mind and body. She wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself, to defend herself if necessary, as Lady Orford and her stupid daughter had discovered.
Truth be told, she had been shocked and overwhelmed when the knights had come to Newington and she had allowed them to take her without a fight. Now, that shock was wearing off and she was coming to feel quite threatened by these men. As they charged through the dark night, she gripped the saddle and struggled not to fall off.
“Where in Canterbury are you taking me?” she yelled to Chad, seated behind her with his big arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from slipping. “I heard you speak of your father?”
Chad’s visor was up as they charged through the night. He couldn’t see very well with it down and he was quite concerned with the night traveling they were doing, for many reasons.
“Be silent,” he commanded sharply. “Your voice carries.”
Alessandria di
dn’t like the tone of his voice. He sounded angry and evil. She was starting to think that perhaps she shouldn’t show any resistance, not now when he had seven men and two dozen soldiers at his disposal, men who could easily force her into submission, or worse. Perhaps it would be foolish of her to do anything other than what she was told, at least for the time being. But she would never give up hope that there would be an opportunity for her to escape.
So she shut her mouth, holding fast to the galloping horse and praying she wouldn’t fall to her death. If she fell, the horses behind would surely trample her and she wasn’t ready yet to die in any case.
At some point in their harried flight, men in torches broke off from the main body of men and disappeared to the north, taking a smaller road and heading into a thick cluster of what seemed to be trees. Truth be told, Alessandria couldn’t really tell because it was so dark but she thought she saw the outline of trees against the blanket of stars and she could see the torches flitting in and out of sight, fading away as they went.
After that, the group seemed to ride faster. There was already a sense of urgency but it seemed to increase. They moved as fast as they could along the road, which wasn’t very well maintained, and the horses were tripping and struggling on the uneven ground. One horse even pulled up lame at one point, which wasn’t unexpected, and the rider of the horse, a soldier, was told to remain behind with his horse and seek shelter until the morning. Another soldier remained with him and they slipped away with the limping horse.
It seemed like an endless journey at this point. Alessandria had no idea how long they had been traveling because she’d lost all track of time. It could have been ten minutes; it could have been forever. It was difficult to gauge. But that sense of uncertainty eased when the moon began to peek up over the horizon and there was a tiny bit of light now for them to see by. It made all of the difference in the world.
Fearsome Brides Page 40
