by Aston, Alexa
“Aye, my lady. Lord Geoffrey wrote the king, and he is agreeable to the match—if you are.”
Her mother’s eyes met Elysande’s. “I have only to look at my daughter and see the happiness that radiates from her. I think a marriage between the two of you would be a very good match, indeed.”
“We thought, mayhap, we could marry at Kinwick,” Michael added. “’Tis your girlhood home. Lady Avelyn has yet to see it. Lady Merryn always welcomes a wedding when it comes her way. Would this please you?”
Lady Mary nodded in approval. “It would. Let us drink to the marriage of these two.” She stood and raised her cup. “To my darling Elysande and her charming husband-to-be. May you and the earl live a long and blessed life, and may your union be one filled with love and many children.”
A cheer went up and they all toasted the happy couple.
Geoffrey took up the story and told his sister of Elysande’s abduction from Kinwick, at the hands of Lord Ingram’s men. He explained that she escaped her captors, glossing over the details, and how they found that she’d taken sanctuary at the Convent of the Blessed Sisters. He went on to describe how the king wished for Avelyn to accompany Alys to court in order to serve the queen.
“I’m quite overwhelmed by all this incredible news,” Lady Mary proclaimed. She glanced at her daughter. “Still, I feel everything is as it should be.” She took Elysande’s hand and then Avelyn’s. “I will miss each of you beyond words, but you’ll start a new life away from Hopeston. I know God richly blesses you both.”
“I can’t wait to meet the king,” Avelyn said, excitement in her voice.
Lady Mary asked, “Have you met him, Geoffrey? They say he is a good man and that the queen is the kindest of women.”
“I have, Mary. The royal couple has come to Kinwick on summer progress in previous years. The king wrote that they will return again next summer. Mayhap you would like to visit then and meet them?”
“As long as they don’t come to Hopeston afterward,” she said. “I’ve heard it’s quite costly to entertain the royal court.”
Geoffrey groaned. “My coin purse is still empty from their last visit.” He looked at Elysande. “You and Michael would also be invited to visit at the same time, Niece. I think the king would enjoy meeting you since he will already know your sister.”
“To think by then I’ll be a married woman—and one meeting the king.” She smiled. “I think I’ll enjoy that, Uncle.”
*
They set out the next morning for Kinwick with two wagons in tow. Trunks held all of Elysande’s clothing and personal items that she wished to take to Sandbourne, while others held clothes for Avelyn to take to London. Lady Mary promised to send coin with her daughter so she could have some new clothes made at court. Michael laughed at Avelyn’s concerns about being in fashion.
He rode with Elysande in front of him, once again. His arm rested against her waist, holding her close. She had wanted to ride Morningstar, but he’d selfishly rejected that idea. He convinced her it would be unnecessary to bring the horse and her foal all the way to Kinwick, only to double back and go to Sandbourne. Michael promised her that once they settled in at Sandbourne, he would send for her horses. She had readily agreed, which let him know she secretly enjoyed the time spent in his arms on the road.
They’d traveled no more than a few hours when he heard the restlessness that came in waves from the back of their small army. His senses went on high alert as he looked to his left, where Sir Charles rode with his mother. The knight’s face showed his concern as they heard the first clash of distant swords at the rear.
“Something’s afoot,” he told Geoffrey. “We must secure the women.”
Michael motioned to Hammond, who rode behind him, Avelyn in the saddle with him.
“Gather the women now,” he ordered. “I want a guard of no less than ten surrounding them.”
His friend gave a curt nod and called out to several behind him as he slipped from his horse and pulled Avelyn from the saddle. Michael did the same with Elysande as Geoffrey leapt from his horse and removed his sister. Charles already had Michael’s mother on firm ground and hustled her over to the other women.
Michael placed his hands on Elysande’s shoulders. “Stay together. Don’t stray from the men who protect you.” He ushered her to a thick oak standing near the side of the road and waved for the other three women to join her. Immediately, a ring of knights formed around them, their swords drawn.
His gut told him who approached and engaged them.
Lord Ingram.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elysande put her arm around Avelyn and drew her close. She felt the tremors of fright running through her sister’s body. They echoed those she experienced. Her hands trembled uncontrollably. Even her teeth began chattering as fear paralyzed her. Both her mother and Lady Orella joined them, their faces white as ghosts. The women huddled together, their backs against the large oak. She recognized a few of the knights that closed ranks and encircled them from her stay at Kinwick, including Hammond, a friend of Michael’s. The others wore the colors of the Earl of Sandbourne. Though she was not yet their countess, she knew these men would protect her with their lives.
She leaned forward, trying to see through the thick wall of men that surrounded them. They stood shoulder to shoulder, their long swords drawn as they awaited action. Elysande saw how still their bodies were, yet she knew they were coiled and could spring into action in the blink of an eye.
The clanging of swords rattled the peace of the early September day. Guilt poured through her. The fighting that went on around them was because of her. Lord Ingram had some twisted wish to make her his bride, despite denials from her mother and the king. The nobleman had unleashed his men against those from Sandbourne and Kinwick.
And that meant men would die this day.
Her legs shook so that she didn’t trust herself to remain standing. She slid down the tree, bringing Avelyn with her. Her sister buried her face in Elysande’s shoulder, not wanting to see what went on.
Elysande stared ahead and found she could observe what happened from ground level. The height of the knights in front of them and their wide shoulders that had kept her from viewing the action as she stood no longer blocked her sight. Each soldier’s stance left his feet slightly apart, ready to move quickly. It was that gap that allowed her to watch the fighting.
Elysande found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the brutal action. Men swung swords and maces, landing horrific blows against one another. The ground ran red from so much blood. Loud, hoarse cries became swallowed by the screams of those injured. She reached down to her boot and withdrew the dagger that she’d used against Ernis. She doubted the guard surrounding them would allow anyone near enough for her to put it to use, but it calmed her to clasp the weapon in her hand.
It was hard to tell which side might be winning. She had no idea how many men Lord Ingram brought with him. Elysande knew from what Michael said when they’d left the Convent of the Blessed Sisters that they numbered about two hundred strong. She squeezed her eyes closed and begged God for nothing to happen to Michael or Geoffrey. She couldn’t believe so much loss was laid at her doorstep and prayed for forgiveness.
When she opened her eyes, she searched for Michael in the melee. She finally spotted him, thanks to his great height. He held his bastard sword in both hands, cutting through men faster than she could count. His determined face showed no mercy to his opponents.
Then she spied Lord Ingram in the fray. The nobleman headed toward Michael, grim resolve hovering about him. She wanted to scream out and warn Michael, but she knew her voice wouldn’t be heard above the battle noise. Elysande held her breath and gripped her blade.
*
Michael cut a swath through his opponents, moving swiftly with a fluid motion. His years of training took over instinctively. It was as if he and his sword were one as he brandished it against his enemies. Anger raged through him at the tho
ught of Lord Ingram trying to steal Elysande from him. Harnessing the anger, he focused it against every man that stepped into his path.
He plunged his sword into the heart of one man and sliced it across the neck of another soldier. He lifted it high above his head and struck a death blow to another man’s head. Whirling, he ripped his sword across the throat of the next man that crossed his path. Michael continued cutting his way through the hostile crowd, focusing on the battle at hand. He longed to glance over to see if Elysande remained safe, but he had to trust that the men who protected her did their job and kept her and the other women secure.
A sixth sense had him turn and duck at the same time. A blade whizzed above him where his neck had been only moments ago. He drove his sword up into the gut of the soldier who stood next to him and then finished off the man’s companion before the soldier could raise a weapon against him. Michael kept on fighting, plowing through as many as he could.
And then he saw the man responsible for the day’s bloodshed.
Lord Ingram spied him at the same time. Without thought or word, Michael rushed in the nobleman’s direction.
He raised his sword as he approached his sworn enemy. Ingram did the same. Both men swung at the same time. The ringing of their steel meeting seemed like music to his ears. Michael brought his sword forth, again and again, sometimes parrying and evading Ingram’s blows, other times pushing the older man back with the force of his weapon as much as his rage.
Michael knew his opponent had begun to weaken as time passed and their duel intensified. Ingram lacked strategy. He’d begun to breathe heavily and sweat profusely. The nobleman from the north no longer initiated strikes. Instead, he had to defend himself from them. Michael took command of the fight. He sliced the nobleman’s upper arm and heard a howl then twisted low and jabbed his sword into Ingram’s hip, pulling it halfway across the man’s belly. With that second strike, Ingram stumbled backward and fell to the ground.
Michael planted a firm foot against the nobleman’s wrist. Ingram was forced to release his sword. The nobleman’s free hand clutched his bleeding belly. Their eyes met and Michael had the satisfaction of seeing defeat on Ingram’s face.
As he placed his sword’s tip against his fallen enemy’s throat, a trumpet sounded in the distance. Michael kept his weapon in place and looked around the impromptu battlefield for the first time since his fight with the lord of Rudland began. He saw that most of the soldiers wearing Ingram’s colors had fallen. The trumpet blared again. Fighting ceased.
He glanced over his shoulder to where the women had been led and almost laughed aloud. Elysande scrambled through the parted legs of a very surprised Hammond. She sprang to her feet and gripped her skirts in her hand.
And ran to him.
Love burst within him, its warmth like a hundred suns coursing through his veins. She slowed as she reached him, not wanting to interfere with his pinned his opponent. Michael reached his free hand out to her. She took it. He squeezed her hand, hoping it communicated all the love he felt for her at this moment.
Elysande looked down at the fallen nobleman, a look of disdain on her face. “You’re the cause of this bloodshed today, my lord. It need never have occurred. ’Tis your ego that brought about the death of many men this day.” She spat on the ground next to him. “I hope you rot in the bowels of Hell.”
Geoffrey appeared to their left. “The king approaches. I’ve spoken with his scout. The royal court is returning to London from their summer progress.” He glanced at Michael’s prisoner. “He’ll want to speak with this one.”
“If I live long enough.” Hatred blazed from Ingram’s eyes. Despite the man’s defiant words, Michael saw the pain he suffered.
“Lay down your swords,” he bellowed. “All of you, whether from Sandbourne, Kinwick, or Rudland. Put them to the ground now. The king comes.”
Michael looked around and saw those still alive obeying his command. He did likewise but made sure his weapon was out of Ingram’s reach. He also kicked his prisoner’s sword away, finally releasing his boot from the man’s wrist. Ingram remained flat on the ground, both hands now cradling his wounded gut. Blood leaked between his fingers. Michael knew it was only a matter of time before Ingram succumbed to the fatal wound.
Minutes later, the royal entourage came into view. Michael had never laid eyes on the king, but he would have known the man to be royal merely from his noble bearing.
Edward marched through the waves of bowing men and came to stand in front of him, Elysande, and Geoffrey. The men bowed as Elysande made her deep curtsey.
“What have I come across, Lord Geoffrey?” The king casually glanced around, but Michael saw that no detail would be missed by this man.
His eyes came to rest on the prone nobleman. “Lord Ingram? I gather ’tis you.”
“Sorry I cannot greet you properly, sire.”
The king’s eyes flicked back to Geoffrey. “Explain what goes on, my lord. The queen and I were enjoying a lovely day with our retinue when we stumbled across this killing field. I didn’t think any English lords made war upon one another at this time.”
“Sire, it’s because of me.”
Michael turned and saw that Elysande had taken a step forward. Her mouth trembled, but she held her head high.
Edward studied her with twitching lips. Michael thought the king hid his amusement.
“Identify yourself, my lady. And then please clarify your statement.”
“I am Lady Elysande Le Cler, daughter of—”
The king interrupted, looking at Geoffrey. “This is the niece you spoke of? The one you wanted to marry your knight, Sir Michael Devereux.” His eyes turned to Michael.
“I am Michael Devereux, your majesty. Now Earl of Sandbourne.” He moved to Elysande’s side and took her hand in his. “My father recently passed away, and my betrothal fell through.”
“Is that so?” Edward looked at their entwined fingers and sighed. “And you wish to marry, I assume.” He glanced over Michael’s shoulder. “Greetings, my ladies. Come join us.”
Michael watched as his mother, Lady Mary, and Avelyn came forward and curtseyed to the king.
“Ah, another young lady. I’m thinking this is your other niece, Lord Geoffrey. The one scheduled to come to my court. Lady Avelyn, I believe?”
Avelyn nodded. “Yes, sire,” she managed to say before falling silent.
Geoffrey took over. “And this is the girls’ mother. My sister, Lady Mary, whom you’ve left in charge of Hopeston Castle for now.”
The king appraised her. “I’ve heard excellent things about you, my lady.”
“Thank you, sire.” Lady Mary demurely lowered her eyes, which Michael thought was a smart move on her part.
“And this last woman. A nun, I see. Why are you traveling with this group?”
Michael released Elysande’s hand and went to take his mother’s arm. “This is my mother, sire. Lady Orella Devereux. My father sent her away to a convent many years ago. I swore a vow to find her once I became the new earl.”
Michael saw understanding dawn upon Edward’s face. “And so you have.” The king studied the gathered group a moment before he brought his attention back to Lord Ingram.
“I see the Sandbourne and Kinwick forces united against you, my lord.” Edward gave the nobleman a harsh look. “I thought I expressed my wishes clearly and concisely when I denied your suit toward Lady Elysande.”
“You did, sire,” Ingram said with great effort. His face contorted as his body spasmed. Then he grew still.
The king looked upon the dead body with disdain. He glanced back at Michael.
“I suppose you’re happy with Sandbourne, my lord. Would you also like Rudland? I believe Lord Ingram will no longer be needing it.”
Michael hid his shock. “No, sire, but I thank you all the same. Sandbourne—and Elysande—will be more than enough for me.”
Elysande moved to stand by him again. Michael caught her hand in his.
The king nodded sagely. “I will have to find someone else worthy enough to claim Rudland then. So I assume your wedding will be soon?”
Geoffrey said, “We travel to Kinwick now, your majesty. Elysande and Michael wish to be married there.”
Edward clapped his hands in delight. “Lady Merryn will be thrilled, no doubt, when she discovers she has a wedding feast to plan.” He paused, lost in thought. Michael thought he might actually be considering whether or to attend their wedding, but then the king said, “I wish the best to you in your upcoming marriage and life together.”
“Thank you, sire,” both Michael and Elysande replied at the same time.
The king looked to Geoffrey. “And once this wedding is over, you’re bringing Lady Alys and Lady Avelyn to court?”
“I am, sire.”
“It seems you have things well in hand, Lord Geoffrey. The queen and I will be on our way. Give my best to Lady Merryn. Remember, she’s welcome to come with you to London.” He looked around. “See that Ingram’s men return to Rudland. I’ll have to think about who’ll receive the estate next.”
With that, the king swept away, a true force of nature.
After his departure, Geoffrey had the surviving Rudland men gather around. He explained to them they would soon have a new liege lord, but for now the king had instructed them to return to their home. They went without protest, first placing the bodies of their fallen comrades upon horses to be returned for burial.
Geoffrey and Michael had Charles and Hammond do the same for their own soldiers who had died in combat. Michael assigned Charles to lead a small contingency back to Sandbourne with the bodies as the remaining Sandbourne knights traveled on with them to Kinwick.
As Michael went to place Elysande upon Tempest’s back, he brought his arms around her in a tender embrace.
“We now have the king’s blessing, my love. I plan on a long life so that I can love you thoroughly each and every day.”
“And I will return every bit of that love to you, Michael Devereux,” she said, her eyes shining with that promised love. “You may count on it.”
