Winslow had been up all night worrying about it.
“Alyx hurt,” Dyl said softly.
Both Winslow and Lance turned to look at the young man as he rode an old mare, the only horse he wasn’t terrified of. Dyl had a lot of fears and horses was one of them. But he was riding peacefully, listening to his father and Makendon’s captain talk about his sister.
He had something to say.
“What do you mean?” Winslow asked. Then, his brow furrowed with concern. “Alyx is hurt, lad? If you know this, why did you not say so sooner?”
Dyl looked at his father rather fearfully before putting a hand on his chest. “Here,” he said. “She hurt here.”
Winslow was relieved to know what he meant, a figurative comment and nothing more. He knew that Dyl was very empathetic, far more than most people, and the young man was particularly empathetic with his sister. It was a gift for a son who had been a huge disappointment to Winslow, but that disappointment didn’t make him love Dyl any less. It simply made him long for what could have been.
“I know, lad,” Winslow said as he turned to face the road once more. “It cannot be helped.”
“Why can’t the lady go away?”
“Who? Torston’s betrothed?”
“She is hurting Alyx.”
“Alyx is hurting herself, Dyl. She knows Torston is betrothed. It is not the fault of the lady.”
Dyl fell silent, contemplating a world where his sister was in the wrong. In his mind, there was no such world. As he resumed his silent riding, Lance’s sympathetic gaze lingered on the young man before returning his focus to Winslow.
“What do we do when we arrive at The Lyceum?” he asked quietly. “Do we return Alyx to Makendon immediately?”
Winslow drew in a contemplative breath. “I am not certain,” he said. “I suppose we should assess the situation first. If she hasn’t physically attacked Torston’s intended, then mayhap we shall stay the night, but if she’s created a problem, then we must take her away immediately.”
Lance simply nodded, knowing it would be no easy feat to remove Alyx from The Lyceum if she didn’t want to go.
They could be in for quite a struggle.
The party continued on the short distance to The Lyceum, seeing the big walls gleaming in the distance around midday. There were patrols out, as there usually were, and they ran into a couple as they made their way down the road until the great gatehouse of The Lyceum finally welcomed them.
No screaming, no upset, no distress on the people of The Lyceum told Winslow that, perhaps, his daughter hadn’t created chaos. The first person he saw was Jess just as their group came into the bailey.
“Don’t tell me why you are here, my lord,” Jess said drolly. “Let me guess.”
Winslow smiled, without humor. “Am I to assume my daughter is here?”
“She is.”
“And everything is well?”
“Well enough.”
“Where is she?”
Jess stepped closer to Winslow as the man came off the horse. “She refused to stay in the keep last night because Torston’s intended is there with her ladies,” he said quietly. “She came close to dusk last night and Torston would not send her home in the dark, so he put her in a cottage down by the stable yard.”
“Is that where she is now?”
“As far as I know, my lord. I’ve not seen her in the main part of the bailey yet today.”
Winslow drew in a long, contemplative breath. “You will tell her that I have arrived, please,” he said. “Take Dyl with you. He will calm her nerves if she is on edge with all of this. Meanwhile, where is your liege?”
“Great Caesar is in his solar, my lord,” he said. “Torston is with him.”
“Thank you.”
He started to walk away but Jess stopped him. When Winslow paused, Jess motioned Lance closer so he could hear what he had to say, too.
There was much afoot at The Lyceum this morning.
“You should be aware of some… developments, my lord,” he said quietly. “It seems that Great Caesar is quite suspicious of the offer made by Douglas Kerr. He is speaking of strange things this morning.”
Winslow looked at him curiously. “What strange things?”
“Attacking the Scots,” Jess said, looking between Winslow and Lance. “That is what he is discussing with Torston right now. I did not want for you to walk into this situation and be shocked by it. You know that Lord Harringham has never advocated attacking the Scots, fearful he would lose too many men in such a conflict, but ever since the marriage proposal by Douglas Kerr, Lord Harringham has become quite suspicious of the man and has told Torston he is considering attacking him.”
Winslow looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “Did you hear this for yourself?”
Jess shrugged. “Pieces of it,” he said. “When Lord Harringham returned from Makendon after the conference with Kerr, he and Torston were speaking of it. I rode out to meet the incoming party to tell Torston that his intended had arrived in his absence and as he rode ahead to The Lyceum, Lord Harringham informed me what he and Torston had been speaking of. He wants to mount an offensive against Douglas Kerr.”
Winslow looked at Lance in shock, who looked at his liege with equal surprise. Winslow finally shook his head.
“That man’s madness is going to get us all killed,” he hissed. “I’d better get in there and see what is being said.”
“Wait,” Jess said. “There is one more thing. He told Torston, and me, that if you marry your daughter to Kerr, then he will consider you the enemy because your daughter married a Scots. It could be his madness speaking, but you should be aware going in what is on his mind.”
Winslow looked at him in disbelief. “I am the enemy for accepting a peace proposal?” he said, aghast. Then, he turned his attention to the keep. “God only knows what is going on in that man’s head.”
Jess didn’t say anything more. He watched Winslow and Lance head into the elaborate keep of The Lyceum, wondering if a very old alliance was about to be jeopardized by a paranoid old man.
Time would tell.
“Mayhap she was sent by the Scots,” Lionel said. “She was sent to weaken my Centurion.”
The subject at hand was not the one Torston had expected. It certainly wasn’t the one Winslow and Lance had expected when they walked into Lionel’s lavish solar, the one with the marble floors and a shrine to some Roman god no one had ever heard of. Truthfully, they had no idea what Lionel was speaking of.
That was concerning.
The man appeared disheveled and agitated, a far cry from the usually well-groomed and congenial lord. His robes were rumpled and his hair was in disarray. Before him, spread out on a big table, was a map of the borders, including the locations of all the allied and enemy castles. But he wasn’t talking about the castles.
He was talking about a woman.
“She has come early, Torston,” he was saying, all but ignoring Winslow and Lance. “She has sent you many missives over the years, demanding to visit The Lyceum. Why? Why did she want to come so badly?”
Torston barely acknowledged Winslow and Lance when they’d enter the solar, mostly because he was dealing with a wildfire in the form of Lionel’s increased paranoia.
“Because she wished to visit me, Great Caesar,” he said. “There is no great mystery to that. She wanted to visit her betrothed and nothing more. She is not allied with the Scots in any way.”
“How do you know? Torston, you do not even know the woman.”
“But I know her family. The House of de Weese is Northamptonshire. They are not allied with the Scots.”
Lionel didn’t like the answers he was getting from Torston so he turned to Winslow, who was pouring himself some wine from Lionel’s fine crystal decanter.
“This woman has come to marry Torston months early,” he said to Winslow. “Does that not seem suspicious to you?”
Winslow was very careful in his reply. He sat down
opposite Lionel at the great table, looking at a man who didn’t seem like himself.
“She is Torston’s betrothed,” he said. “I do not think it odd that she wishes to see him and you are having a feast in her honor, Great Caesar. Were you not suspicious of her before you arranged for the feast?”
Lionel scratched his ear, his brow furrowing as he did so. “Morley plied me with wine and told me that we must welcome the woman properly,” he said irritably. “We shall have the roasted meat of twenty animals and watch my Nubians perform all night.”
That wasn’t much of an answer and Winslow looked at Torston in concern. Something wasn’t right with Lionel; that much was certain. Winslow wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed to him that Lionel needed calming reassurance that all was well, that Torston’s intended wasn’t in league with the Scots, and that The Lyceum was safe and whole. He sipped his wine.
“I hope that I shall see your Nubians tonight,” he said, changing the subject. “I am looking forward to seeing them again. There is no one in all of England who has entertainment like you, Great Caesar.”
Lionel was less irritated and more flattered at Winslow’s words. “They are wonderful, aren’t they?” he said. “I have ordered my men to build them their own village outside of the walls. I wish for them to stay here, with me, and they must have their own place to live.”
“That is an excellent idea and most generous, Great Caesar,” Winslow said. “They will make a unique and interesting addition to northern England.”
Lionel thought so, too. He was thinking on his Nubian troupe when his expression darkened again and he looked at Torston. “Be certain that your intended is watched, Torston,” he said. “She is not to wander about or contact my Nubians. She is not to contact anyone. If she sends a message, I want to know where it goes.”
They were back on the unhappy subject of Lady Lilia and Lionel’s paranoia. Torston addressed the man calmly.
“I will ensure she is guarded, Great Caesar,” he said. “She will not make a move that I am not aware of.”
Lionel shook his head. “Someone has sent her here,” he muttered. “Someone must have sent her here.”
Torston, Winslow, and Lance passed concerned glances. Lionel’s mental state had been a concern for years because the man commanded a big army. It was always a concern when a madman had access to such strength. But now an odd sense of paranoia was taking hold, leaving Torston and the others to scramble to understand it and control it. Winslow, sipping on his wine, could only think of one way to do that.
“Would it make you feel better if I sent Lance to investigate the lady, Great Caesar?” he asked. “Where is she from?”
“Northamptonshire,” Torston said quietly. “A place called Elmington House, south of Peterborough.”
“Indeed!” Lionel said loudly, overlapping Torston. “Send Brockenhurst to Elmington House and discover what he can about her. If she is innocent, we have nothing to fear, but if she is not, I want to know!”
Winslow looked at Lance, who was close to rolling his eyes. A long trip south was in his future and he wasn’t happy about it, but he understood why. Stability was at stake and if Lionel believed action was being taken to clear the reputation of a woman who had made an uninvited appearance, then he might calm down and the paranoia might ease.
At least, that was the hope.
“I will go, Great Caesar,” Lance said. “Have no fear; if she is hiding something, I will discover it.”
Lionel seemed quite pleased by the declaration. “You are a good man, Brockenhurst,” he said. “I will trust your good and true judgment in this matter.”
“Thank you, Great Caesar.”
Lionel stood up abruptly, going to pour himself more wine. As he did so, he turned to Winslow.
“Now that the matter with Lady Lilia is settled, we have yet another matter to discuss, Winslow,” he said.
Winslow held out his cup so that Lionel could pour him more wine. “What would that be, Great Caesar?”
“The matter of Douglas Kerr’s offer of marriage for your daughter,” Lionel said as he headed back to his chair. “You cannot accept it.”
Winslow was marginally prepared for this, given what Jess had told him outside. “And why not?”
Lionel looked at him as if the question were surprising. “Because you would be the enemy, of course,” he said. “You cannot consider it.”
Winslow sat back in his chair. Much as he didn’t like Douglas dictating his relationship with The Lyceum, he didn’t like Lionel dictating what he could and could not do with his own daughter.
“You sounded as if you were in agreement with it when you were at Makendon,” he said. “You did not say a word to the contrary.”
Lionel nodded. “But I have had time to think,” he said. “I believe Kerr’s offer to be a ruse.”
Winslow lifted his shoulders. “Why? Already, he is close to overpowering us. Why would he need to create an elaborate ruse by proposing marriage?”
Lionel tapped his skull. “Because he is clever,” he said. “Mayhap he is tired of losing men to Torston and Lance. Our knights can outfight Scottish warriors like… like the Romans defeating the Carthaginians. Our men are much better trained and the Scots know we can call on our great allies, like de Wolfe. We can wipe Douglas from this earth. He is, therefore, trying to defeat us from within. Like the Trojan Horse!”
As soon as he said it, Torston winced. That was exactly what he’d said when he’d first heard of Douglas’ proposal and, evidently, that comment had stayed with Lionel. Torston was coming to think that he, in fact, had started the old man’s paranoia.
“I do not think Douglas is that underhanded or that clever, Great Caesar,” Torston said. “His offer was to Lord Winslow and the final decision must be his. It is no secret that I am greatly opposed to this offer for reasons that are known. I will say no more about it, but I do not think you should view Lord Winslow as foolish for considering peace. It would be peace for us all.”
God, he hated spitting out those words, especially after what had happened last night. He’d spent hours wrapped up in Alyx as she slept, only leaving her somewhere before dawn and make it look as if he were merely going about his rounds as he prowled the darkened grounds of The Lyceum. Jess had seen him, as had other men, but no one was the wiser as to where he’d actually been.
He’d been, for a few brief hours, in heaven.
Even today, as the sun rose and those at The Lyceum went about their business, Torston’s thoughts were centered around Alyx. He couldn’t shake her. But he was clear-headed with what his feelings were, clear-headed that he was going to do everything within his power to make Alyx his wife and the arrival of Winslow was rather fortuitous. He wanted to speak to the man, to tell him his intentions, and pray that Winslow saw things his way.
Pray that the man was willing to give him a chance to break his betrothal before he pledged his daughter to a Scotsman.
“I am opposed to an alliance with Douglas Kerr,” Lionel said, breaking into his thoughts. “The man cannot be trusted, Torston. We have spent years fighting him and, suddenly, he wants peace? It is a lie, I tell you. A lie to destroy us all!”
The paranoia was quite evident now. Torston looked at Winslow, who wasn’t quite sure what to say to convince Lionel there was no ruse and no conspiracy. Torston held up a hand, discreetly, indicating he would handle Lionel, as he’d been doing so aptly for so many years.
“Decisions do not have to be made tomorrow, Great Caesar,” he said. “We will have more discussions about it. We will even discuss it with Douglas again and you can ask him any question you wish to determine his sincerity. You know that Lord Winslow would never do anything to jeopardize his relationship with you and with The Lyceum. The alliance between us and Makendon Castle is strong and will always be so.”
Lionel was already almost finished with his wine. It was possible that too much alcohol had magnified his paranoia but, at this point, that didn
’t matter too much. He was worked up about Douglas, about the arrival of Lilia and, evidently, unwilling to be soothed.
“We shall see,” he said. Then, he looked at Winslow oddly. “Why are you here?”
Winslow regarded his wine. “Because my daughter received your invitation to the feast in honor of Lady Lilia and she came immediately,” he said. “Have you not seen her?”
Torston answered. “She did not wish to be seen, my lord,” he said quietly. “She wants to avoid seeing Lady Lilia, so I put her in a cottage near the stable yard for the night.”
“I know,” Winslow said. “Jess told me. In fact, I sent him and Dyl to find her and tell her I have arrived.”
“I’ll go,” Torston stood up, motioning to Lance. “Let us find her together.”
Lance didn’t think they both needed to go but, suspecting something was up, he followed Torston from the solar. The two knights headed from the keep but Torston came to a halt on the steps once they were outside in the sunshine. He turned to Lance.
“Are you truly going to go to Elmington House?” he asked.
Lance nodded. “It seems that I must,” he said, though he didn’t sound happy about it. “Winslow has committed me to investigating Lady Lilia. Why is she here, Torston? I never heard you say anything about her arrival.”
Torston snorted. “Because I did not know she was coming,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you that her arrival was most unwelcome and I spent the evening easing Alyx about it. She was quite upset about it.”
Lance sighed heavily. “We suspected as much,” he said. “How was she this morning?”
“I have not yet seen her, so I do not know.”
That was the truth. Torston hadn’t seen her since leaving her before sunrise, so he wasn’t lying to the man. About that part, at any rate. But Lance simply shook his head.
The Centurion Page 17
