Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Maximus already knew that, more or less. “Is she well?” he demanded. “Did she make the journey safely?”

  Ellice nodded and took another long drink of wine. “She is well,” she replied, hearing the great concern in Maximus’ voice. “You needn’t worry over her health. But I have come to tell you that my brother is sending her back to Trelystan this very night. There is no time to waste. If you want to reclaim her, do it when she is on the open road with only a few soldiers as protection.”

  Gallus and Tiberius, as well as Maximus, were listening carefully. Maximus, who was usually the calm one in all situations, was having a difficult time keeping his bearings under these circumstances. When he had discovered Courtly missing, he had felt panic as he had never experienced in his life. All he could think of was the woman, alone, traveling back to Kennington in such terrible weather. Moreover, she was heading straight for her abusive, crazed father. But hearing that she was safe, at least for the time being, soothed him like nothing else could have. She was safe and whole. That was truly all that mattered to him. The rest, he could deal with as long as she was healthy.

  “De Lara is sending her back tonight?” Gallus repeated what he’d just been told. “How is that even possible? He would do such a thing in this weather?”

  Ellice looked around the table at the host of powerful knights, de Shera knights. These were the heart of the de Shera war machine, but the truth was that she’d hardly been out of Kennington in years and certainly not enough to find company with men she did not know. Looking into the faces of the de Wolfe brothers, of Garran, and finally into Stefan’s very handsome, young face stirred her female blood somewhat. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be around attractive men.

  “As I said earlier, when you were at Kennington,” she said, tearing her eyes away from young Stefan, “my brother believes he is protecting his children and will do what he feels necessary in order to do that. At this moment, he is only concerned with removing them from Oxford and, in particular, separating Courtly from Sir Maximus. The weather does not matter. All that matters is that they leave as soon as possible. He wants to put as much distance as he can between Sir Maximus and his daughter, and do it quickly.”

  “Tonight?” Gallus clarified.

  Ellice nodded. “Tonight,” she confirmed softly. “But be advised that my brother will not be part of the escort. He must remain here for de Montfort’s gathering, as I am sure you are all well aware, so he will not be returning with his daughters to Trelystan. He will send an escort of de Lara men to take them. It may be your one and only opportunity to reclaim her if you truly wish to do so.”

  Maximus was much calmer now than he had been only moments earlier. “Do you know what road they are taking?”

  Ellice lifted her shoulders. “I can only assume the north road that skirts the edge of Oxford and heads north towards Evesham,” she said. “It is the only one they could possibly take.”

  “Do you know when they are leaving?”

  “The men were beginning to mobilize when I left Kennington. It is possible they will leave within the next hour or so.”

  Maximus digested the information a moment before turning to Gallus. “We can take thirty men and intercept them on the road north,” he said. “But the issue is this – if we leave any of them alive, they will run back and tell de Lara that I have his daughters. But if we kill all of the soldiers, it will look like any manner of massacre at the hands of outlaws and the women will be missing. De Lara will not know what has become of his daughters and he will more than likely refrain from coming after me, at least for a time.”

  Gallus sighed heavily as he sat back in his chair, looking to Maximus. “As a father myself, I am not entirely sure I can condone leaving de Lara to believe that his daughters have been abducted by bandits. That would be a most painful thing.”

  Maximus cocked his head, almost defiantly. “Then do not ride with me and you can disavow knowledge of the entire situation,” he said. “Either way, I am riding to intercept that escort and I am going to kill every one of them because any man I leave alive will run back and tell de Lara that I have abducted his daughter. That will bring the House of de Lara down upon us ten-fold.”

  Gallus could see that he was about to enter into an argument with his brother and he forced a smile at Ellice. “A moment, please, my lady,” he said, standing up and pulling Maximus with him. “A word with my brother is all I need.”

  Ellice let them go, watching as the tall, youngest brother joined his two siblings. As the men huddled together, Gallus spoke in hushed tones.

  “Max, I realized you want this woman,” he said quietly. “I told you before that I want to see you happy. I was more than willing to allow her to remain with us here at the inn and then fight off de Lara when he came for her. But now you are speaking of intercepting her father’s escort, killing every man there so they cannot give you away, and then abducting not only Courtly, but her younger sister as well. Now you will have both daughters and you want de Lara to think that they’ve been abducted by unknown outlaws? There is something less than honorable about that.”

  Maximus’ jaw flexed unhappily. “Then do not go with me,” he snapped. “I will go myself. I do not need you.”

  Tiberius reached out and grabbed his older brother. “Wait, Max,” he said, trying to soothe the man. “Gallus did not mean it the way it sounded. I believe what he is saying is that a situation like this will only create a bigger mess with de Lara.”

  Maximus was furious and struggling to calm himself. “If either one of you ever asked the same thing from me, to help you regain the woman you love, then I would do it without question,” he hissed. “But I am evidently not afforded the same courtesy. Unconditional, brotherly love means unconditional support, in all things, but if you do not want to be a part of this, then I will go it alone.”

  Gallus grabbed hold of him, too, before he stomped away in anger. “Nay, you will not,” he sighed, relenting. “Ty is correct. It is my sense that going about it the way you are suggesting will only create more of an issue with de Lara. God’s Blood, Max, if you marry the woman, de Lara will be your father-in-law for the rest of your life and grandfather to your children. Do you truly wish to have an adversarial relationship with him forever? How do you think that will wear upon his daughter and, eventually, your marriage? Could she even grow to resent you?”

  He had a point. Maximus stopped his angry posturing and took a deep breath, laboring to ease his anger. He pulled upon that reasonable and steady demeanor that was his usual manner. Where his emotions were concerned, where Courtly was concerned, he was coming to see that he could be very volatile.

  “I am too emotional about this,” he conceded, raking his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I am sure you are both correct. Forgive me for being so angry about it. But I intend to intercept that escort. I will rely on the two of you to decide how, exactly, we extract Courtly. All I want to do is kill them all and leave no trace. Mayhap it is not the best way, but it is my way.”

  Gallus slapped him on the shoulder. “And we may yet have to kill them all,” he said. “But only if we have no other choice. For now, let us muster the knights and a party of thirty soldiers and ride out to intercept the de Lara party. Ty, summon the knights over. We will tell them what we are about to do.”

  Tiberius produced a low whistle, catching the attention of the knights standing around the table where Ellice was drinking the last of her warmed wine. The men gravitated over to the de Shera brothers, expectant of the orders that were about to come forth. Gallus didn’t keep them waiting.

  “We are going to intercept the de Lara escort,” he said, stating the obvious. “Scott and Troy, you will muster the soldiers. Make sure they are mounted and well-armed. Treat this incursion as you would a battle. Stefan, we will travel light, meaning no provisions wagon. You will ensure that every man has rations and also ensure that every horse is sound. If the beast is not, then this weather will surely
ruin him and weaken our war party. Garran, I am sorry to say that I will have you stay with my wife while we are gone. She needs at least one competent knight and you would honor me by remaining with her. Are there any questions so far?”

  The knights shook their heads and Gallus dismissed them. He was turning back for Max and Tiberius when he realized that Garran was still standing beside him.

  “Do you have an issue, de Moray?” he asked, thinking that Garran was going to argue about being left behind with Jeniver. “State it.”

  Garran’s gaze was somewhat uncomfortable as he looked at Gallus. He had been uncomfortable all day, ever since seeing his father, and the discomfort had only grown worse. He’d spent most of the day at the inn, as he was there to protect Lady de Shera while her husband had dealings with Kellen de Lara, and he’d therefore had a good deal of time to think on what his father had asked of him. He eventually came to the only conclusion he could come to and it was time to let the de Shera brothers know. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time, but it might be his only opportunity. He cleared his throat softly.

  “My lord,” he said to Gallus. “I must speak with you, but not about anything involving your wife. I am always agreeable to protecting Lady de Shera. I must speak with you about something different.”

  Gallus glanced at Maximus and Tiberius. Maximus had impatience on his features but Tiberius appeared rather suspicious. Wary, even. It was an odd expression but one that Gallus didn’t give much note to. He tried not to appear impatient, too.

  “Must we discuss it now?” he asked Garran.

  The man nodded. “We must, my lord,” he replied. “It is important. I will only take a moment.”

  Gallus lifted his shoulders. “Very well,” he said. “State your business and be quick about it. We must mobilize.”

  Garran knew that. He found that he was nervous to speak with de Shera. He hoped the man would understand his decision, as heartbreaking as it was. He took a deep breath.

  “My father is in town,” he said, looking to Tiberius. “He came yesterday and paid a visit to the inn when we were away. Tiberius was here, however, and he and Tiberius spoke. I went to see my father at his lodgings on the south side of town to find out why he was in town. I had no knowledge of him visiting Oxford. I am sure you all know that my father is a staunch supporter of Henry but I do not believe you know why. When he was younger, the king saved his life and he has, therefore, always felt a life debt to him. That is why he cannot side with de Montfort. In any case, it would seem that the king has summoned my father to London and has asked him to sit upon his council. I know you were afraid that the king’s council would be full of Poitevins, but it would seem that my father will be among them. My father… he understands that I do not agree with the king or his policies, but my father has come to ask for my support, as his son.”

  Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius were listening intently. “So that is what your father came to Oxford for,” Tiberius said. “You did not give me a direct answer when I asked you. Now, I know why.”

  Garran nodded, looking somewhat sad and disappointed. “Henry has asked not only for my father’s counsel, but for his sword,” he said quietly. “My father has agreed. At some point, we will be facing Henry in battle and, consequently, my father. I hope you understand when I say that I will not fight my father on the field of battle. I would never lift a sword to him, ever, no matter what I believe. I must therefore ask you to release me from my oath of fealty, Lord de Shera, because I have made the decision to support and, if necessary, fight alongside, my father.”

  Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius were stunned to varying degrees, but each brother understood, implicitly, what Garran was staying. They would not have expected him to fight against his father. Gallus put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder.

  “You are certain of this?” he asked softly.

  Garran nodded with remorse. “I am, my lord.”

  Gallus thought on his reply a moment. “Your father is a legend,” he said. “He is a fine and honorable knight. Although I am deeply saddened to lose your sword, I understand completely. I could not fight against my father, either.”

  It was a sorrowful moment for them all, especially for Tiberius. Garran was his good friend.

  “When will you go?” Tiberius asked softly.

  Garran looked at his friend, his liege, with great sadness. “I will go to him as soon as you return from intercepting de Lara’s escort,” he said. “I will not leave Lady de Shera unattended. Please… please know this was not an easy decision for me. It is mayhap the hardest choice I have ever had to make, but in this instance, understand that my choice is not in favor of Henry – it is in favor of my father. It will always be my father.”

  Gallus patted him on the shoulder again. “I know,” he comforted. “As it should be. Godspeed and fair winds, Garran. May we never meet up in battle, my friend, but if we do, then I pray we both survive it.”

  There wasn’t much more to say, from any of them. Garran forced a smile, silently thanking Gallus and his brothers for their friendship and trust, before turning away and heading back over to the table where Ellice was still sitting, now on her second cup of warmed wine. The knight sat down at the end of the table and simply hung his head.

  It was a desolate moment. Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius watched Garran as he slumped at the table, shocked and saddened by the turn of events. But they couldn’t linger over them. They had a more pressing engagement looming and they would need all of their focus for what was to come. They could fully worry about the loss of a knight, and good friend, at another time. But now was not the time.

  Eventually, Gallus turned away to prepare himself, followed by Maximus. As they went about their business, Tiberius remained where they had left him, his gaze lingering on Garran and feeling a distinct sense of loss. He wasn’t entirely sure he could face the man in battle, either. He knew he couldn’t strike him down. But family loyalty superseded friendship. He understood that well.

  With a heavy heart, he followed his brothers as they prepared to intercept de Lara’s escort and regain Lady Courtly.

  Just before noon on the following day, outside of the sleepy village of Begbroke, north of Oxford, the de Shera army was waiting.

  The rain had stopped for the most part, revealing clear skies above, but the ground was still soaked and muddy, making traveling difficult. Roads were impassable in some spots and farmers with wagons, trying to get to town, had been thwarted by the holes and puddles.

  The de Lara party was heavily armed as they moved along the sludge-filled road. Courtly and Isadora were both astride the small gray palfrey, bundled up with a coverlet stolen off of a bed from Kennington, as they made their way very slowly along the muddy road. St. Héver was at point, leading the party along beneath cold, blue skies and as they passed on the outskirts of Begbroke they eventually entered a wooded area where the road was surprisingly better. The canopy of trees had protected the road from the driving rains somewhat. As the exhausted women plodded along the dark-mudded road, the trees around them suddenly came alive.

  Men were pouring out of the woods, men with weapons, from both sides of the road. There were dozens of them, certainly more than the twenty men that surrounded Courtly and Isadora, and when the harrowing cry of men went up as they burst from the trees, the little, gray palfrey bolted, dumping both Courtly and Isadora onto the wet, soft earth.

  As Courtly leapt to her feet and pulled Isadora up beside her, St. Héver bellowed commands for his men to surround the women and made his way back to them to protect them. But he was a lone knight with only twenty men-at-arms as six very big knights on very big horses came bursting out of the trees, heading directly for them. St. Héver was no fool. He saw the fine weaponry and the seasoned horses, especially a distinctive black and white jennet. He’d seen that horse before, most recently at Kennington House, so he knew who the men were. He ordered his soldiers to drop their weapons and surrender on the spot because there was no use
in fighting the Lords of Thunder. He gave up without a struggle.

  Without a fight to be had, the de Shera men came to an uncertain halt, surrounding the de Lara party as the six massive knights rode up. Maximus, leading the charge, flipped up his visor and fixed on St. Héver.

  This was not the situation Maximus had planned on. He had expected fighting and killing, and in spite of what he told Gallus, he intended to do most of the killing, unwilling to leave witnesses to his abduction of Courtly. What he didn’t expect was for St. Héver to surrender before the fight even began. It was a brilliant move on St. Héver’s part, knowing that the de Shera war machine wouldn’t murder men who had surrendered. It simply wasn’t done. Now, the situation Maximus had hoped for was already going awry. Now, he would have to out-fox St. Héver.

  “I do not wish to kill you, St. Héver,” he said, his voice loud and steady. “I simply want Lady Courtly and I will be along my way.”

  St. Héver was a young knight, that was true, but he was exceedingly clever. He moved to Courtly in a gesture that suggested to Maximus that he could easily do what he wanted to with the woman before Maximus could stop him, up to and including killing her. It wasn’t what he intended to do but he knew he was at a distinct disadvantage. He had to show that the de Sheras didn’t have him completely defeated. There was still fight in him and, consequently, room for negotiation.

  “I am deeply regretful that I cannot comply, my lord,” he said to Maximus. “I have been instructed to take Lady Courtly and her sister back to Trelystan. Those are my orders.”

  Maximus looked at Gallus, who was focused on the young and strong knight. Gallus knew that Maximus had been hoping for a fight. He wasn’t a fool. He knew how his brother thought, and he also knew that St. Héver’s surrender had upset Maximus’ plans for a murder spree. Not to say that he wasn’t impressed by St. Héver’s move, but now he had some quick thinking to do before Maximus began swinging his sword like a madman. Gallus flipped up his visor to better see St. Héver.