The situation had changed.
Fortunately, Meggie wasn’t far. There was an alcove near the stairs where the servants slept in order to be close to their lords and ladies, and she found Meggie curled on a pallet on the floor. The maid was groggy at first but then greatly concerned to see her lady. Susanna wouldn’t tell her what the matter was until she pulled her back to her chamber and shut the door.
Then, it all came out.
Instead of waiting for morning, Susanna wanted Meggie to ride to Leyburn this very night. It was a clear night and the weather was good, so the short ride into the village should hardly take more than an hour at a clipped pace.
Susanna was desperate to get the missive to Richmond but Meggie, of course, believed it was a lover’s emergency and she was more than willing to ride to Leyburn on a bright night. Susanna gave her a few silver coins as an incentive, to be split between her and her brother, and Meggie took them eagerly.
Wrapped up in a dark cloak, the maid followed Susanna from the apartments and down to the outer bailey, where Susanna passed another silver coin to one of the stable grooms to prepare a mount for Meggie and keep silent about it.
Considering what was happening, the sooner the message was out of the fortress, the better.
There was no time to waste.
Unfortunately, Susanna’s movements from the keep had caught someone’s attention.
A knight at the gatehouse that guarded the keep had been in the guard room when Susanna and Meggie had passed through. He thought he recognized Susanna, watching her movements as she headed down to the stables with another woman. She wasn’t hard to miss with that rich, red hair, not even at night when the moon was full and the torches were burning brightly all around.
Surprised as well as stunned, he stood at the gatehouse, watching and waiting to see if she’d make another appearance and finally being rewarded when she emerged from the stables and headed back towards the keep.
As she drew near, the knight ducked back into the guard room so she wouldn’t see him, coming out only when she passed by and headed back up to the keep.
Then, his suspicions were confirmed – he’d seen the woman in Skipton a couple of months ago with the two Pembroke knights. He’d been part of the group of Whorlton knights who had been in The Horse’s Arse tavern, the same group that had antagonized the trio into bloody combat on the common room floor.
He’d been one of the lucky ones, however. His commander had been gored and had eventually died of an infection in his gut, two knights had been killed, while two other men were injured so badly that it was possible that they would never be able to return to duty. He had ended up on the floor, the victim of a devastating punch to the head, while only one of his companions had emerged unscathed.
It had been a harrowing evening.
But he’d returned with his injured companions to Whorlton, telling tales of the fifty men who had ambushed them. No one was willing to confess that two Pembroke knights and one woman bearing the colors of de Winter managed to triumph over them in that dingy little tavern. They were still trying to live down the shame, even if they were the only ones who really knew about it.
As luck would have it, he’d just found the de Winter woman at Aysgarth.
The knight, whose name was Henry Bellerby, had come to Aysgarth as part of the Witton de Meynell’s escort. He’d mostly pushed that shameful event at Skipton out of his mind. But now… now, it all came back to him in a rush. He was the only one out of that seven-man group that had ridden escort with de Meynell, so there wasn’t anyone else around who would have recognized her.
He didn’t know who she was, but he was going to find out. When she passed him and headed back up to the keep, he headed straight for the stables.
He wanted to find the other woman she had been with.
She wasn’t difficult to find. A small rider emerged from the stable, heading in his direction, and Bellerby recognized the cloak. The horse and rider had just come through the stable yard and were heading to the main gatehouse when he stepped in front of them, blocking their path.
“Halt,” he said, grabbing the horse’s reins. “Where are you going this time of night?”
The woman, plain-faced and with a hooked nose, seemed inordinately nervous. “I… I must leave,” she said. “Why do you stop me?”
Bellerby didn’t let go of the reins, but he stepped closer to the woman. “Because it is late at night,” he said. “It is not safe for anyone to leave. Where are you going?”
The woman licked her lips. “My… my brother is ill,” she stammered. “I am going to his aid.”
“Now?”
“I just received word.”
“No one has come in or out of the gatehouse in hours.”
“I meant that I received it earlier today, but I have just been given permission to leave. May I go?”
Bellerby kept his grip on the reins. “That woman you were with,” he said. “Who is she?”
That seemed to make the woman more nervous. “Why do you want to know?”
“Answer me or I will take you to Lord de Meynell this very moment.”
She gasped, sounding terrified. “It is Lady Susanna,” she said. “She is the sister of Baron Coverdale. She is very important here and you must let me pass.”
His gaze lingered on her. “How long have you served her?”
“Long enough. Why are you asking me these questions?”
“Where is she residing? In the keep?”
“I am not going to tell you anything more!”
With that, Meggie tried to yank the reins away, causing the horse to start. That action almost brought her off of the animal, but she managed to keep her seat.
Unfortunately, the missive did not.
Tucked in her belt because it would not fit into her tunic, the jolting action of the horse shook the missive right out of her belt and it fell to the mud. The horse stepped on it and she yanked the animal away, diving from the horse and ending up on her knees in her haste to get to the missive.
Bellerby got to it first.
“What is this?” he asked, keeping it above her reach. “What don’t you want me to see so badly?”
Meggie was in a state. “It is not for you!” she said angrily, jumping up and down. “Give it to me! It is not meant for you!”
Bellerby shoved her away by the head, hard enough to cause her to fall back and lose her balance. As she fell onto her buttocks, he flipped the missive over and noted that the horse’s weight had broken the seal when the animal stepped on it.
Gleefully, he opened it up as Meggie picked herself out of the mud and threw herself at him again. She hit him hard, but it was barely enough to shake the man. He simply grabbed her by the hair to stop her from charging him again, holding fast as he began to read the missive.
“What do we have here?” he said, taunting her as he began to read. “A missive to d’Avignon? Surely this cannot be Richmond’s d’Avignon?”
Meggie was struggling with him, horrified and panicked. “It is not for you!” she said. “I am going to tell the lady what you have done and you will be severely punished! Do you hear me? Stop this instant and give me back the missive!”
He was grinning, still clutching Meggie by the head. But as she struggled and he continued to read, the smile began to fade from his lips. All of the humor left his face. Once he finished reading it, he looked at Meggie with a taut expression.
“Who wrote this, Woman?” he growled.
Meggie was beating on the hand that held her by the hair. “I’ll not tell you! Let me go!”
His response was to yank hard and she screamed in pain, but the action had the desired effect – she stopped moving. “Answer me,” he hissed. “Who wrote this? Was it your lady?”
Meggie was starting to realize by the tone of his voice that something was amiss. “’Tis only a poem,” she said, frowning in both anger and confusion. “You must not tell the lord.”
Bellerby looked b
ack at the missive. “Does he know about this?”
“About the poem? Of course not. She does not want anyone to know. Let me have it. I must take it to her lover at Richmond!”
Bellerby shook his head faintly, a gesture of disbelief. “So it was your lady.”
There was no use in denying it. The next thing Meggie realized, she was being dragged across the bailey by the hair as Bellerby headed towards the keep where de Meynell was, still in the great hall. He knew his lord would be quite interested in the contents of the missive.
On behalf of himself and his colleagues, Bellerby knew precisely how to exact revenge for the beating in Skipton.
The de Winter woman was going to pay dearly.
CHAPTER NINE
Richmond Castle
“I’m so close. So close!”
Achilles was having a difficult time focusing even though the massive bastion of Richmond Castle was right in front of him. It was a clear, dry morning and they’d already been traveling for hours, having departed the small village of Scotton before dawn to make their way north to Richmond.
But Achilles could only lament the fact that they were close to Aysgarth. About fifteen or sixteen miles, to be exact, and the previous night in Scotton had been equally difficult for him. He wanted to sneak away to Aysgarth simply to catch a glimpse of Susanna, but Alexander was firm with him. In fact, Alexander slept in the same room with him and every time Achilles moved, whether it was in his sleep or sitting up to use the chamber pot, Alexander was on his feet and running for the door to prevent Achilles from leaving.
It had been a restless night for all of them.
Kevin had actually remained awake the entire night, sitting in the common room in case Achilles made it past Alexander in his quest to see Susanna. He’d been fully informed of what the situation was between the two, even if he hadn’t experienced it firsthand, so he knew what to expect.
And he was prepared.
Therefore, it was three exhausted men who made their way to Richmond Castle on a fine, bright morning. Richmond Castle was quite an impressive sight as they came in from the south. Emerging from a dense growth of forest that had covered the road for the past few miles, they were suddenly faced with the enormous castle on a rise overlooking the River Swale.
Honey-colored stone gleamed in the early morning light as Richmond Castle greeted the day in all her glory. England had her fair share of castles, but none so glorious as Richmond. It was one of the largest castles in the north, with twenty-foot walls spanning the perimeter. Vast didn’t begin to encompass the size of the baileys; they were big enough, collectively, that a good-sized village could have fit within them. Richmond was very strategic and very important, and for good reason – she could hold a few thousand men in her bosom and no one would know anything about it until it was too late, as the Scots and early Norman enemies had discovered.
But Achilles wasn’t paying any attention to the castle. He was unhappy, and longing for Susanna, and as the three of them crossed the river on a stone bridge and headed towards the main gatehouse, Achilles still wasn’t having any luck at focusing on the task that lay ahead. He wasn’t used to having feelings for anyone and therefore had no idea how to handle the distraction. He was feeling quite sorry for himself until Alexander slapped him right between the shoulder blades.
“Sit up and behave yourself,” Alexander rumbled. “You’ll not enter Richmond looking like a lovesick dog. We are about to face Cai d’Avignon and if he sees you like this, you’ll never hear the end of it. Do you understand me?”
Achilles was sitting straight up in the saddle, rotating his shoulders because he could feel Alexander’s handprint stinging on his back. “I understand you,” he said. “You could have simply told me. You did not have to beat me.”
“I have been trying to tell you for the entire ride north. You are not listening to me. I needed to get your attention.”
Achilles didn’t reply. He wasn’t happy, unhappier still now that Alexander had taken to pummeling him. As they headed up the road that paralleled the gigantic walls of the castle, Kevin spoke with awe.
“I have never been to Richmond,” he said. “What an incredible place this is. Outside of the White Tower, I’ve never seen a keep like that. It has to be one hundred feet tall.”
Alexander looked up at the enormous keep. “It is quite large,” he agreed. “It keeps watch over an equally large area.”
“How many troops are held here?”
“I am not certain, but I heard once that there were two thousand, at least.”
“It could easily hold that.”
Coming around the walls, the entry came into view. There was a heavily-fortified barbican that one had to pass through before getting to the actual gatehouse. Once they passed through the guarded barbican, they came to the gatehouse, which was squat and thick, and built as an extension of the keep itself. It, too, was heavily-guarded but the three knights were admitted when Alexander identified himself and his purpose. Given that they were bearing Pembroke standards, they were admitted with little resistance into the immense, busy outer bailey. As a soldier went running into the keep for d’Avignon, they pulled their steeds to a halt and took a good look at their surroundings.
“God’s Bones,” Kevin muttered. “Heartily impressive.”
Alexander nodded as he dismounted his steed. “Indeed, it is,” he said. “I have not been here in quite some time, but the magnificence of this place never ceases to amaze me.”
Achilles climbed off his horse, gazing off across the wide bailey and realizing he was looking south. He was probably looking straight at Aysgarth and the realization tugged at his brittle emotions. He knew Alexander was becoming irritated with him and even though Kevin had been neutral throughout the entire journey, he suspected Kevin had reached that point, as well. It wasn’t that he was trying to be deliberately annoying.
His heart was simply hurting in ways he didn’t understand.
“What are you looking at?”
Alexander had come up behind him, looking over his shoulder to see what Achilles was seeing. Not wanting to be lectured or worse, slapped again, Achilles thought of a plausible lie.
“The great hall,” he said, pointing to the big building along the south wall. “I am thinking that I did not eat last night. Surely they will provide us with something.”
Alexander nodded. “I am certain they will,” he said. Then, he looked at Achilles with some remorse in his expression. “I am sorry I slapped you, but your mood needed to be dealt with. I would have slapped you in the face if I’d thought I could have gotten away with it.”
Achilles managed a weak grin. “Considering I am not myself these days, you probably could have.”
“Since when is Achilles de Dere not ready for a fight?”
Alexander patted him on the shoulder. “Be patient,” he said quietly. “We will get to her, but we must be wise about it. You do not want to go rushing in there blindly, do you? When we return, we must have a plan, especially if de Tiegh is siding with the rebel barons. You do not know what has happened since we departed Aysgarth, so we must be updated on any and all conditions in this area before you return for her. Agreed?”
Achilles nodded reluctantly. “Agreed.”
“Susanna can take care of herself, so it is not as if we are speaking of a weakling.”
“God, no.”
“Then stop fretting. We will get to her soon enough.”
Achilles took a deep breath and nodded, forcing himself away from the sorrow and longing he’d been feeling. Or, at least he tried to. That was when he caught sight of men emerging from the keep, heading down the retractable wooden stairs quite rapidly. The smile on Achilles’ face turned real.
“God’s Bones,” he muttered. “There he is. I would recognize that beast anywhere.”
Alexander turned to see a group of men just coming off of the stairs, heading towards them at a swift pace. A very big man leading the group shouted at them.
“Sherry! Is it really you?”
Alexander laughed softly. “It is,” he said. “There is no one else like me, though many have tried, including you. Kiss me, you fool.”
The man who had shouted to him laughed joyfully. He was an enormous man, at least a head taller than everyone else around him, with hair and eyes as black as coal. His face was angular and strong, and the smile brilliant if not displaying charmingly crooked teeth. He opened his arms for Alexander, perhaps some of the biggest arms in all of England, and swallowed Alexander up in a powerful embrace. All the while, the two of them were giggling and grunting like fools.
“Sherry, you gorgeous creature.” Caius d’Avignon didn’t kiss Alexander, but he squeezed him hard enough. “How long has it been? Six, seven years? Far too long, my friend.”
Alexander released the man from his fond embrace. “Nine, I believe,” he said. “The last I saw of you was in Antioch. There was a matter of a house full of beautiful women and you were attempting to negotiate for every last one of them.”
Caius threw his hands up in the air. “It worked, did it not?” he declared. “I had my own harem until their father came home and chased me around the house with a scimitar. But, God, it was worth it.”
He snorted uncontrollably before catching sight of Achilles. Then, he shoved Alexander aside and rushed Achilles, picking him up off the ground in an enthusiastic embrace as Achilles grunted in pain.
“Achilles,” he greeted happily. “My brother, my darling lad. I have missed you.”
Achilles was grinning, rubbing his ribs when Caius finally let him go. “Good Christ, Cai,” he said. “You nearly broke my spine.”
“Really?” Caius said as if astonished. “The Achilles I knew nine years ago would have thrown a fist into my throat before saying that. What has happened to you, lad? And where are Maxton and Kress?”
“Married,” Achilles said, watching Caius’ expression of shock. “Surprising, I know, but it is true. Take me inside and I shall tell you all this and more. We come bearing news from The Marshal, so someplace private, if you please.”
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