Chris nodded, steeling himself against his grief. “He did,” he said. “We were just in the vault visiting her. She looks as if she is sleeping. It is difficult to believe that she is gone.”
Adria patted his hand. “For me, also,” she said. “I loved her like a sister.”
Chris squeezed her hand. “And she loved you,” he said. “You two were friends for a very long time.”
“We were.”
“Were you with her when she passed, Adria?” he asked, sounding earnest and sad. Like a man trying to reconcile himself to the death of his child. “You two were so close. She would have been comforted by you.”
Adria wasn’t quite sure how much to tell him. She wasn’t sure if he could take it. She looked to Becket and Morgen, men she had known fairly well, to see if they could give her some silent indication on how to answer. Becket nodded faintly, encouraging her to reply.
“Aye,” she said after a moment. “I was with her. I was the only one, for the baby came quite unexpectedly. How much did Irthington tell you? I will not repeat it if you already know.”
Chris shook his head. “Only that she perished in childbirth,” he said. “I suppose I do not need to know more than that, but I just want to make sure she was not alone.”
“She wasn’t, my lord. I was the last one to speak with her and they were words of joy.”
Chris wiped at his eyes. “That is good to know,” he said. “I can tell her mother that, at least.”
“You can both be at peace,” Adria said. “Lily simply went to sleep and never woke up, but her last feelings were those of joy as her son was born. She was very happy.”
Chris simply nodded, accepting that explanation. It gave him comfort. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely. “May I ask a final task of you?”
“Or course, my lord.”
“I have decided to take Lily home to Lioncross so she can be buried in the chapel with her ancestors,” he said. “Will you dress her for her final journey?”
Adria had never dressed a corpse before, but she couldn’t deny him. “If you wish.”
Chris squeezed her hand one last time and let it go. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Adria stood aside, watching Chris and his sons continue on through the inner gatehouse and to the outer bailey beyond. She felt sorry for the man who had doted on his only daughter.
It was a tragic thing, indeed.
With Chris on her mind, she continued to the keep. The familiar dark and quiet greeted her as she headed up the stairwell to the great chamber at the top. The door was open, sending rays of light into the stairwell, and she entered to find the chamber quite warm.
Not strangely, she could still feel Lily here.
Adria had done well at dealing with her grief today but, for some reason, she felt Lily heavily at that moment as she stood in the chamber. She looked around, to Lily’s possessions, to the things that meant something to her.
It made her sad.
“Everything will be well, Lily,” she whispered. “The baby is doing well and I just left Atticus. He is sad, but he will be well in the end. I also saw your father and he is saddened, but I spoke with him. I told him you were happy in the end. Please don’t worry about them.”
There was no reply, of course, but she felt better speaking the words to any remnants of Lily’s spirit that might still linger. Lily had been worried about her family and if her spirit was still about, Adria didn’t want her to fret.
She would take care of Lily’s world… and make it her own.
That was what Lily wanted.
Returning her focus to the living around her, Adria noticed that the big bed was still on the far side, curtains still drawn. Assuming Lady Warenton was still sleeping, she headed into the alcove where the wet nurse was feeding the tiny infant again. Her big, lovely breasts held a wealth of nourishment for the weak child as she clutched him to her breast and sang to him softly.
Adria stood in the doorway for a moment and watched.
“That is so kind of you,” she said softly. “I know his mother would be so happy with your nurturing.”
The wet nurse grinned, a gap-toothed smile. “I raised eleven children of my own,” she said. “My youngest has seen three years and he doesn’t need me like he used to. I’m happy to do what I can for your young lad.”
“You know his mother died giving birth to him, don’t you?”
The woman nodded, her smile fading. “I do,” she said. “That’s why I sing to him. So he knows he’s loved.”
Adria thought that was quite touching. She watched the woman as she finished feeding the baby and gently burped him. Changing the child’s swaddling, she wrapped him back up tightly, from his head to his toes, and handed him over to Adria.
“Will you mind him while I sleep?” she asked. “I was up all night with him, as Lady Warenton was. I think I need a bit of a rest.”
Adria nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Use this bed and I will shut the door to give you some peace.”
The wet nurse thanked her gratefully as she began to disrobe. Adria went out into the great chamber, closing the door to the alcove softly. With both Lady Warenton and the wet nurse sleeping, she didn’t want to disturb them in case the baby fussed, so she grabbed a basket with a pillow fashioned in the bottom of it, one Lily had specifically made for an infant to sleep in, and headed from the chamber to the smaller hall below. She could sit in the alcove near the hearth, where it was warm, and let the baby sleep next to the fire.
Sweet little Alec, she hoped, was going to get stronger every day.
She was going to do her best to ensure it.
*
He’d been watching the inner gatehouse all morning.
Gar’s window had a good view of the drawbridge and part of the gatehouse and he’d been keeping an eye out for his daughter in between packing his saddlebags. Even as he’d gone out to the stable to load his saddlebags on his horse, he’d still kept an eye out for her.
He wanted to know when she went back into the keep.
He had a reason for loading his saddlebags before he actually intended to leave Carlisle. The saddlebag on the left contained his clothing and he’d managed to create a very nice bed for a tiny infant right on the top. All he had to do was lift the flap, drop the infant in, resecure the flap, and he’d be out of Carlisle before they realized what had happened.
But none of it mattered if he couldn’t get to that baby.
So, he continued watching the gatehouse, hardly taking his eyes from it. The nooning hour came and went, but still, he was riveted to the gatehouse.
And then, he saw her.
Adria was coming from the direction of the kitchen yard, heading through the inner gatehouse, and Gar knew he had to move swiftly. Since the great hall was in the inner bailey, he would make that his excuse if anyone stopped him. The great hall and the keep were in close proximity, so he could only hope no one watched him go for the keep instead of the great hall.
It was a chance he’d have to take.
Quickly, he began to move.
His heart was pounding as he approached the inner gatehouse, passing through without anyone questioning him. In fact, no one was even looking at him. Once he passed through, the great hall was to his left and the keep was to his right. He ducked to his right, looking straight ahead, not even looking to see if anyone was around who might question him.
No one was.
Into the keep he went.
The dark mustiness of the stone building greeted him. He didn’t know where Adria went, but he guessed up to the great chamber. Quickly, he ducked into the darkened smaller hall, positioning himself in a dim corner so he could watch the stairwell. He did it specifically to watch for his daughter, so he could catch her unaware, but he didn’t retreat into that corner without a weapon of some kind. There were fire pokers and shovels near the hearth and he quickly grabbed a shovel, mostly for defending himself from his angry daughter.
Perhaps even to use aga
inst her if he needed to.
And so, he waited. He wasn’t sure how long he would have to wait before she came downstairs, but it wasn’t long. She appeared shortly after he’d settled in, but what he didn’t expect was for her to come down the stairs with an infant in her arms.
The very infant he was hoping for.
Adria didn’t see him as she went to the hearth. She had a basket in her hand and she set it down, making sure it was sturdy and comfortable before she lay her precious prize in it. Then, she began to put fuel into the hearth from the wood bin, kindling and peat, before striking a flint and stone. The blaze sparked almost immediately and she used the fire poker to settle in the fuel so it wouldn’t spill out. As the blaze took off, someone lay the flat end of a shovel across the back of Adria’s head.
It was a sickening, loud sound. Adria fell onto her face, hovering above unconsciousness as she heard the shovel hit the floor beside her. Stars dancing in front of her eyes, she struggled to shake them off and roll over so she could see what was happening.
Who had attacked her.
She noticed immediately that the basket was gone. As her vision cleared, she could see Gar holding the woven basket with the baby inside.
“Nay!” she cried weakly. “Put the child down!”
Gar was just standing there, looking at the infant. “So this is the lad that killed his mother?” he said. “Uninteresting and unspectacular, but I suppose he’ll do the job.”
Ears ringing and the world rocking dangerously, Adria struggled to sit up. “What job?” she demanded. “Gar, put the child down. What do you think you’re doing?”
Gar looked at her. “Exactly what I told you I was going to do,” he said. “I am going to get the money I need to pay off de Brito. If you will not do it for me, then I must do as I see fit.”
“What?”
“You heard me. And remember – this is your fault.”
Trying not to vomit, Adria managed to push herself into a sitting position. “Make sense,” she said. “What are you going to do?”
Gar had a hint of a smile across his lips. “Ransom the child, of course,” he said. “It makes the most sense, truly. Thank you for the suggestion.”
Horror swept Adria. “My suggestion?” she repeated, appalled. “I only said it with sarcasm because you refused to work for your money. I never suggested you do it!”
Gar chuckled, but it was without humor. “I know,” he said. “But it was a good idea. I do not know why I did not think of it earlier. How much do you think the de Wolfe and de Lohr family would pay in ransom to have Lily de Lohr’s last child returned to them?”
Adria was beyond dismayed with what he was saying. Never did she imagine the man had it in him to abduct an innocent baby in exchange for ransom. That went beyond anything she thought he was capable of, but in the same breath, she should have known. She should have known that her desperate, immoral father would have something equally desperate and immoral in mind. She refused to pay his debt, so he was right – she was to blame – and little Alec was going to pay the price.
She had to regain control of the situation any way she could.
“The infant is very sick,” she said, trying to sound reasonable and not afraid. “He may not even survive the day, so taking him will not help you. The family will not pay you for a corpse.”
Gar looked at the child and as he did, Adria caught movement out of the corners of her eyes. Will had appeared in the doorway leading into his solar, his features as tight and focused as Adria had ever seen them. Gar’s back was to the solar door, so he couldn’t see Will standing there with a very big broadsword in his hand. But Will looked at Adria, who quickly shook her head at him. Were he to attack Gar, the child would be in the line of fire. Gar might drop the baby, or worse.
From the look on Will’s face, Adria was aware that he knew that. But she also knew that Gar’s life was forfeit from this moment on. If Gar realized that, the baby was most certainly in mortal danger.
Adria had to act fast.
“The child looks healthy enough to me,” he said. “A little small, mayhap.”’
“He is very small,” Adria said, putting her hand to the back of her throbbing head and coming away with blood from where he’d split her scalp. “I am telling you that he will not survive the day, so he is not a good hostage. And… and the fact that you have gone this far tells me that you are serious, indeed.”
Gar looked at her. “Did you think I was not?”
Adria was feeling sick and weak and dizzy, but she struggled to her feet, gripping the nearest feasting table to steady herself.
“I suppose I did not believe it until now,” she said. “You do not need to take the infant, so set him down. I… I surrender, Papa. I will go with you and marry de Brito.”
She’d called him Papa for a reason – hopefully to ease the tension between them. To remind him that she was, in fact, still his daughter.
Gar looked at her in surprise.
“You will?” he said.
“I said I would.”
“And all of this has changed your mind?”
She sat down, heavily. Her head was killing her. “I am stubborn like you are, so you only have yourself to blame,” she said. “Put the baby down and I’ll go pack my things. I will go with you today.”
Gar’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before returning to the child. “I am not certain I want you to,” he said. “I can get more money for this child than I could ever get for you from de Brito.”
Adria glanced at Will, still in the doorway. He hadn’t moved, but she could see from his expression that he was ready to kill. She didn’t care about her father; he’d signed his own death warrant.
But the baby hadn’t.
She had to get that baby.
“Silas de Brito is one of the richest men in the shire,” she said. “You may be able to get a fortune for the baby, but it would be a finite amount. If I marry Silas and he dies anytime soon, I will have control of his entire fortune. Remember that.”
That had Gar’s attention. “True,” he said. “I had not thought on it that way.”
“Of course I’m right,” Adria said, trying to sound as if she were finally on his side. “Come along, now. Put the baby on the table. We’ll leave today.”
Gar wasn’t so sure. That was the horrible part. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to let the child go. Adria watched him anxiously as he just stood there, looking at the baby. Over to her right, the hearth popped and crackled, and a big piece of glowing wood flew out, missed the stones of the hearth, and landed on the wood floor. Weakly, Adria got up, picked up the poker, and tried to flip the wood back into the fireplace.
All the while, watching her father.
Then, he began to move.
Gar wandered over to the table where she had been sitting, closer to her. He didn’t sit down, and he didn’t put the baby down, but from the way he was standing, even if the basket fell, it would only fall onto the tabletop. Not to the floor. If she was going to act, now was the time.
There might never be another chance.
Adria still had the poker in her hand. The wood hadn’t gone back completely into the hearth, so she pretended to fuss with it, trying to shove it back, when what she was really do was calculating her next movement. Will was still over by the solar door, unmoving because he didn’t want to tip Gar off, so it was up to her at this point.
There was no time to waste.
As Gar stood over the table, Adria suddenly threw herself in her father’s direction. She ended up on her belly, the fire poker arcing over her head. The poker was shaped like a halberd, which was a type of ax with a blade on one side and a sharp, blade-like hook on the other. Adria hurled the hook end of the poker right at her father’s lower legs, slamming it into his left foot.
The hook went straight through his foot, bones and flesh, all the way to the wooden floor.
As predicated, Gar dropped the basket to the tabletop, howling with pai
n. Adria lurched to her feet, going for the basket, but Gar reached out and cuffed her across the face, sending her flying. His foot was essentially staked to the floor, so he couldn’t run, but even if he could there was nowhere for him to go. Will, bolting from the solar door when he saw Adria act, was already on top of him. Gar’s last memory was of a searing pain to his neck as Will sliced his head off.
A head that rolled right into the hearth and caught fire.
It was all over in a flash.
Adria was on her back several feet away, her nose and mouth bloodied from where Gar had brutally struck her. Will took a half-second to ensure his son was well and undamaged before rushing to her side and picking her off the floor.
She was only half-conscious.
“The baby,” she said, over and over. “Is he well? I must see him. Is he well?”
Will had her up in his arms, carrying her to the table where the baby was just as Jordan, who had heard the commotion all the way up the stairs, came into the smaller hall with a dagger in her hand. The spry, elderly woman was fully prepared to fight. Even though the mother and grandmother of dozens of knights was fairly unshakeable, even she was a bit put off by what she saw.
Blood everywhere and a headless body.
“God’s Bones,” she gasped. “What happened here?”
Will was gently wiping the blood from Adria’s nose and mouth. “Everything is well, Matha,” he said, though his voice was quaking. “Nothing that will not heal.”
Jordan practically pushed him aside to get to Adria. “My God,” she said, seeing the blood. “What happened tae her?”
“My father,” Adria said feebly as she came around a little. “He… he tried to take Alec. He wanted to ransom him, but I stopped him. I had to stop him.”
“You did,” Will said soothingly. “You were very brave, my lady. The bravest woman I have ever seen.”
Jordan looked at her grandson, who was verging on tears. The man was shaken to the bone. The body was on the ground, the head smoking in the hearth, and she could see that something horrible had happened.
WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations Page 29
