Lords of Ireland II
Page 24
“Here you are, my lady,” he said, righting one of the legs. “No harm done.”
Heart pounding in her chest with the sheer fright she had just experienced, Emllyn forced a smile from what must have surely been a grimace of terror on her lips as she repositioned her loom.
“How clumsy of me,” she said. “Thank you.”
De Noble smiled in return; he was a genuinely handsome man and would have been an excellent prospect had Emllyn’s heart not already been spoken for. As it was, he simply made her cringe with his eager attitude.
“My pleasure, my lady,” he said, but he could see she was expecting him to come to the point of his visit. “I… well, I have come to see if you would honor me by allowing me to escort you on a walk into the village. You see, they are having a sort of farmer’s faire there today and there will be many things to see and to purchase. I have even been told there will be entertainment in the form of a puppet show. I thought mayhap that you would like to escape this dreary keep and take in some fresh air.”
He said it so courteously; in fact, Emllyn realized that she was very tempted simply at the prospect of getting out of her room and seeing something new, but she was terrified that it would give the man encouragement. She forced a cough and delicately covered her mouth.
“It sounds very lovely, but as I mentioned, I have not been feeling well,” she said. “I would prefer to stay to my room today.”
De Noble’s hopeful expression fell somewhat. “Elyse is in town with Connaught so I thought that you might be lonely for companionship,” he said. “I am not as witty or as pretty as my daughter, but I would be deeply honored if you would allow me to stay a few minutes and make conversation.”
It was another polite request and Emllyn was coming to feel sorry for the man that she was repeatedly rebuffing him. But it could not be helped.
“Mayhap another time, my lord,” she said, forcing another cough. “I am simply not up to it today. If you would please leave me in peace, I would be grateful.”
De Noble’s face fell completely and his smile faded. Stung, he nonetheless nodded politely and headed for the chamber door. She had told him to leave and he would. But he paused a moment before leaving completely, his expression somewhat dull as he turned to her.
“Mayhap there is one more thing you would care to know before I leave you to your illness,” he said, defeat and depression in his tone. “I have received word that Black Castle was besieged a week ago. It would seem that there is a good deal of warfare going on south of Wicklow. Clearly, your brother could not have summoned more men this quickly and my men tell me that other Irish clanns have converged upon the castle. I have sent your brother word of this latest attack, and I have also sent him a request that you should be aware of. I hope you are agreeable to it.”
By this time, Emllyn was looking at him with a great deal of fear as a result of the information on Black Castle. But his last few words had her confused attention.
“What request?” she wanted to know.
De Noble bowed to her again, this time with less fanfare and more emotion. There was a warm glimmer in his eye, a light of hope everlasting in the face of the unwilling object of his affection. The man was an optimist.
“I have asked your brother for permission to court you,” he said. “You see, I have admired you from afar since nearly the moment we met. I believe you have been aware of it by several notes I have sent you, notes that have gone unanswered, I might add. You are a kind and witty woman, and you have made Elyse very happy. She speaks quite highly of you and I would like to know such happiness again, too. I have decided to no longer hide my interest in you behind anonymous notes. Now you know it is I who have sent them. I would hope that, in time, you are agreeable to my suit.”
Emllyn wasn’t particularly shocked by the request, but she was stunned by the entire situation.
“Sir,” she gasped. “I have never given you any indication that I would be willing to accept such a suit.”
He nodded. “I realize that,” he said. “I have been rather ambiguous about my interest so I assumed that you, as a proper maiden, would not have rightly responded to something as bold and coy as anonymous notes. I commend you for your behavior and apologize for mine. It was forward of me.”
Incensed, Emllyn’s mouth popped open. “Sir, you misunderstand,” she said firmly. “I am not interested in your suit. I wish you well in finding affection, but it will not be with me.”
De Noble tried not to appear too defeated. “I understand the past few weeks have been very disorienting for you,” he said. “Mayhap with time, you will reconsider. I am a patient man.”
Emllyn had no idea how to respond so for lack of any response at all, she simply turned away from him. She didn’t see de Noble’s expression of disappointment. All she heard was the door as he quietly shut it. With a grunt of frustration, she ran to the door and bolted it. She didn’t want the man coming back in again.
Standing at the door, leaning against it, all she could feel was utter bewilderment. There were so many thoughts rolling around in her head that it was difficult to single out just one. Damn de Noble for pressing his suit, she though angrily. A note to Kildare would only result in a confusing reply which would completely disrupt her story about sailing on the fleet to oversee the victory for her brother. In fact, it very well might destroy everything.
Yet, she couldn’t think about that now. She would deal with it when and if the time came, because even more pressing than that was the news of Black Castle’s siege. The very thought had her wracked with distress. It explained why Devlin hadn’t returned to her yet; he was caught up in something terrible. Mayhap he had even been injured in the siege, or worse. She couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t come for her if he remained healthy and whole.
Emllyn put her hands to her head at that thought, horrified. God’s Blood, it can’t be! Devlin can’t be injured or dead! He had promised to return for her.
Everything leads me to thee.
He had promised!
Eefha. She had to find Eefha. Putting her ear against the door, she waited a nominal amount of time for de Noble to leave the area before quietly opening the door and peering outside. It was dark in the corridor beyond, with Elyse’s empty chamber off to the right and the partitioned chambers for female servants directly in front of her.
Quietly, Emllyn slipped out and shut the door behind her. She had to find the old woman. Perhaps the woman, for once, might actually be able to communicate with her. The rumors surrounding Black Castle were indeed serious. She had to figure out what to do. If Devlin couldn’t come to her, then she would have to go to Devlin.
No matter what the cost.
Chapter Fifteen
Frederick had put up a fight, one that had almost cost Shain his life. He had awoken from his drunken stupor as Shain and two other men had carried him out of Black Castle on that dark and rainy night and just about the time they reached the suspension footbridge that linked the keep with the rest of the fortress, Frederick had come alive.
The two men carrying him had caught the brunt of his panic and fury. He managed to stab one man with his dirk and the second man had been tossed over the bridge, forty feet down into the rocks and roiling sea below. Shain, who was already across the bridge at that point, unsheathed his broadsword and raced back onto the bridge to engage Frederick in a fight for his life. Frederick was without his broadsword but he had his dirk, a long and wicked looking thing, and he had charged Shain with it, who had easily knocked it out of his hand.
But Frederick wasn’t finished. He kicked at Shain, driving the man off of the bridge so that he could come off of it, too. Once on solid land, he reached down and grabbed a great handful of dirt and rocks and threw them right at Shain’s face. Shain had been hit in the nose by a fairly large rock and had been momentarily stunned from the blow. It had been enough of a pause for Frederick to gain the upper hand; the man then slugged Shain in the face, sending him to the ground. Then
he stole Shain’s sword and gored him in the shoulder. It would have been the chest but Shain had turned just in time and took the blade in his upper arm. With Shain’s sword, Frederick had fled.
Devlin had come barreling out of the keep in time to see Frederick steal a horse and ride from the gates, just as Shain was struggling to pick himself up off the ground. As he helped Shain, the sentries shouted to him and told him what had happened. Devlin didn’t order anyone to follow Frederick; it was too dark and the weather was too threatening. Frederick would be lucky if he survived such conditions, so Devlin wasn’t going to be foolish enough to send anyone after him. He was more concerned with the one remaining commander he had left.
He let Frederick go.
Now, on the morning following Iver’s death and Shain’s injury, Devlin sat in the hall of the keep, his feet propped up on the table as he pondered the smoking, glowing hearth of the now-quiet chamber. Shain had been put on a pallet next to the fire and had been sleeping heavily since Enda had given him a sleep potion the night before. Both Enda and Nessa had tended Shain in the absence of Eefha, who normally did most of the tending of the ill, and the pair had done an excellent job. Shain’s injury wasn’t bad but he had lost a fair amount of blood. He was weak. Devlin had stayed with the man the entire time, and sat with him even now. Exhausted and on edge, he hadn’t slept at all.
Neart sat over on another chair, pulling apart a small rodent he had captured. The bird had been kept inside during the siege by the O’Byrnes, mostly because everyone knew about Black Sword’s falcon and there would be many archers poised to take the bird down. Devlin, exhausted and pensive, eyed the animal affectionately. The bird was the one thing in his world that had always remained constant, so much so that it was like a family member. Its mere presence gave him comfort in a world that had little.
“Have you slept, Dev?”
Devlin turned away from the falcon pulling at the flesh of the rat to see Shain looking up at him. The man was pale but he was smiling. Devlin gave him a half-grin.
“I do not need to sleep,” he told him, eyeing him with concern. “How are you feeling?”
Shain took a deep breath, wincing when his shoulder hurt. “Well, considering,” he said. “I have been worse off many times. This is nothing but a scratch.”
Devlin pulled his legs from the table and sat forward so he could see Shain better. “I agree,” he said. “But it is best if you rest for today.”
Shain nodded faintly. “I suppose,” he said, his smile fading. “I am sorry about Freddy, Dev. I should have been more vigilant. I have no excuse.”
Devlin waved him off. “It is not your fault,” he said. “Freddy was out to kill us all, I think. He poisoned my wine. Iver drank it before I did and it killed him.”
Shain’s eyes widened. “Iver is dead?”
Devlin nodded, struggling against the sadness. “It was a swift death,” he said, although it didn’t make him feel any better to say it. “Then Freddy tried to kill you.”
“I was going to kill him,” Shain said softly.
“That is true, but there is no way Freddy could have known that,” he said. “He was unconscious when you took him out of the hall. For all he knew, you were taking him back to his bed to sleep off too much drink. The sentries who saw what happened said he attacked you.”
Shain nodded faintly, recollecting the events from the previous night. “It happened very fast,” he muttered. “I should have been prepared.”
Devlin reached down and put a hand on the man’s arm. “I am simply thankful you are alive,” he insisted quietly. “But now we have a bigger problem; Freddy has fled. If he survived the initial flight into the darkness and in the bad weather, then the question needs to be asked – where would he go? Freddy is half mad with ambition and anger, so I am sure he was not thinking too clearly when he left here. He has no close relatives; his brother Henry was killed during the destruction of Kildare’s armada, although I do believe he has an aunt on his father’s side who lives in Dublin. Would he go there, I wonder?”
Shain was silent for a moment, eyeing a big dog who wandered past him, searching for scraps.
“Think about it,” he said. “If you had tried to murder your liege, and then tried to kill another knight, and you were furious and hurt that your grab for power had failed, where would you go?”
Devlin thought about that for a moment, pondering what his reaction might have been under such circumstances. “I would want revenge, I suppose,” he said. “If it were me, I would want to gain revenge on those who humiliated me.”
“And if you wanted to destroy them, where would you go? Think, Dev; think.”
The line of reasoning was beginning to become clearer. Devlin could see what Shain was driving at.
“My enemy’s enemy is my friend,” he said softly, the light of understanding coming to his eyes. “I could go to O’Byrne and pledge loyalty, or I could go to de Cleveley and ask for amnesty in exchange for what I know about Black Sword.”
Shain turned to look at him, nodding his head. “If Freddy goes to de Cleveley, Lady Emllyn is there,” he reminded the man of what he already knew. “You told me and Iver and Freddy of your plans with de Cleveley, and you further told us that you had posed as a farmer and that de Cleveley’s commander had asked you to return to Black Castle to spy on Black Sword. You agreed to do so to get into the man’s good graces in order to find out if he was planning an attack against you. You wanted to earn his trust.”
By this time, Devlin was on his feet, seized with the idea that Frederick might be heading to Glenteige Castle to betray both him and Emllyn. It was as good a possibility as any.
“He will tell de Noble that I am Black Sword and that Emllyn was in on the deception all along,” he said, feeling his heart race and his palms sweat with panic. “Sweet Jesus, if he does that, de Noble… de Noble could very well put Emllyn in the vault or, worse yet, execute her for treachery.”
“Frederick could have the last word in all of this,” Shain said softly. “He could ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
Devlin stared at him and Shain could see the emotion in the man’s face. It brought back the memory from their trip south, when Devlin had been so protective over Lady Emllyn and had shown her such consideration. Shain had asked him then if there was something between them but Devlin had skirted the subject. But now, looking at Devlin’s face, he could see that there was indeed something between them. Devlin must have sensed his thoughts because he lowered his gaze.
“Shain,” he said hesitantly, “I must tell you something, something I’ve not told anyone.”
“What is that?”
Devlin drew in a deep breath. “The night that Freddy brought Emllyn to me, I abused her,” he said quietly. “I abused her badly. I told her I wanted to fill her full of Irish sons to rebel against the English. But she was strong, Shain; she was so very strong against me. She was wise and she was reasonable. I have never met a woman like her.”
“I see.”
Devlin shook his head. “That isn’t what I wanted to tell you,” he went on. “She intrigued me more than I wanted to admit. And she is so incredibly beautiful. She is also witty and intelligent. She’s the most marvelous woman I have ever met.”
“Is that so?”
Shain was remaining very neutral about the whole thing and Devlin suddenly looked at him. “I love her,” he blurted, then winced because he had spilled it out without tact. He struggled to recover. “I love her and I do not regret it. She is the most miraculous thing that has ever happened to me, Shain. She has made me feel things I never thought I would feel. She is my sun and the stars. If she wanted the moon, I would give it to her.”
Shain had guessed as much. Although he didn’t exactly approve, he couldn’t fault the man his happiness. Still, it might come at a price.
“If Freddy has headed for Glenteige, then he will be there before you,” he said. “When you return there, and I know you will, you must be prepared
for the damage he has done.”
Devlin thought on that long and hard. “It will all depend on if he can convince de Noble of the fact that the farmer he knew as John is actually Black Sword,” he said. “If he is able to do that, then they will know Emllyn was in on the treachery.”
“Not necessarily,” Shain said. “Didn’t you tell me that your story to de Noble was that you were a farmer who found the lady upon the shore? It would be possible that she really didn’t know you were Black Sword and only a man who found her and saved her after she washed ashore.”
Devlin shook his head. “I am not entirely certain she will deny knowing my true identity,” he said. “She is a righteous woman and not given to lies. If confronted, she could very well confess.”
Shain pondered that. “Then if that is the case, you will need to go to Glenteige and be prepared to bargain for her release,” he said. “You have thirty-three English prisoners in the vault. Mayhap they will exchange one small lady for thirty-three English soldiers.”
It was as logical a solution as any, at least initially. But Devlin knew it wouldn’t end there. “I have a feeling they will overlook the soldiers in favor of me,” he said softly. “They will want me in exchange for Emllyn’s freedom. Black Sword, after all, would outweigh the import of thirty-three Englishmen.”
Shain couldn’t disagree. He watched Devlin carefully, waiting to see how the man was going to react to all of this. But Devlin seemed to be oddly calm although it was evident that there was much on his mind. So much had happened, and so much was looming, that it was difficult to consider it all without emotion. Devlin was having to face a situation he’d never before faced; the peril of someone he loved.
“Mayhap I should go and see the English prisoners,” he finally said, rising wearily from his chair. “Mayhap they can give me insight as to how de Noble will deal with Emllyn if Freddy manages to destroy all I have worked for.”