“I was going to use this on him, someday,” Gunnar said. “When I got big enough, I was going to do it with Papa’s knife because it would be as if Papa killed him, too.”
Liselotte stared at the dagger, very sharp, and a thought occurred to her. Gunnar wasn’t far wrong; using the knife that had had belonged to Etzel, that Brynner had used against his own father at Bramley’s direction, would be sweet justice if the weapon were used to kill Bramley. It was a very old dagger, passed down through generations of the Lords of Shadowmoor, and as Liselotte stared at it, she knew what she needed to do. As clear as day, she knew. Generations of l’Audacieuxs were calling to her through that blade, telling her what needed to be done. For peace, for family pride, for everything, she needed to end this with her own hand. With Etzel’s blade.
She needed to reclaim their honor.
Taking the blade from Gunnar, she ordered the boy to stay behind as she began to move forward, towards the fighting. She could see the three big knights standing off to the left, watching the battle, but she couldn’t see Daniel from her position. The big keep was in the way. Therefore, she made her way around the keep, cautiously, to the other side where, suddenly, she had the men in her line of sight.
Daniel was dealing the man a fairly serious beating. When the sword wasn’t swinging at him, the feet and fists were kicking and punching Bramley all over the place. It was clear that Bramley was exhausted and terrified, and at this point he wasn’t doing much to fight back. He was simply defending himself. He was trying to get away from Daniel, stumbling away, holding up his sword to ward off Daniel’s powerful blows, but little more than that. It was clear that the battle was waning.
Liselotte knew she had to act quickly if she was going to make a difference in this battle, to exact vengeance against this man who had tormented her for four years. Quickly, she moved up to the corner of the keep, peering around the side to see that Daniel and Bramley were making their way in her direction. She watched their battle stall out several feet away as Bramley tried to crawl away and Daniel simply kicked him in the gut. She was eager for them to get on with it, to come in her direction so that she could deliver the death blow to Bramley. She was afraid that if she tried to make her move now that Daniel would prevent her from doing it. Therefore, she had to wait until they were very close so Daniel couldn’t stop her.
It was something she had to do.
More fighting, more kicking, and more crawling by Bramley, but the man had staggered to his feet and lurched in her direction, towards the keep. Liselotte ducked back, pressing herself right at the corner of the keep, just out of sight, but she could hear that the men were very close. She held the dagger tightly, praying for strength to do as she must, to seek vengeance for all that Bramley had done to her.
Then, the moment was upon her.
Bramley fell right by the corner of the keep, his upper torso exposed. Liselotte didn’t even think about what Daniel was doing at this moment; she had seen him kick and punch so much, especially when Bramley was down, that she expected more of the same. She lifted the dagger and threw herself forward, falling atop Bramley and plunging Etzel’s dagger straight into the man’s neck. Blood spurted as Bramley stiffened in what was the first of his death throes.
But what she couldn’t have known was that Daniel had been preparing to deliver the death blow, too. He had his sword lifted, preparing to strike, as Liselotte suddenly appeared from out of his line of sight, right at the corner of the building, and launching herself onto Bramley.
Horror filled him and he tried to stop his momentum as he brought the sword down; God help him, he tried as hard as he had ever tried for anything in his entire life. But he was moving too swiftly, and Liselotte was too close, and as she rammed the dagger into Bramley’s neck, he caught her on the right side of her torso with his broadsword.
Daniel would have cut her in half had he not been trying to stop his momentum, but it wasn’t enough to stop the blow completely. He cut her deeply, her screams mingling with his own, as Liselotte lay atop of the dying Bramley, bleeding heavily as Daniel realized what he had done.
After that, chaos reigned.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Three Days Later
“We saw your army approaching, my lord,” Maddoc said, astonished, as he found himself speaking to his liege. “Forgive me my surprise, but what are you doing here?”
David was beyond exhausted. Pale and hacking up blood, he was in no mood for chatter or lighthearted greetings. Standing at the open gates of Shadowmoor on a cold and misty morning, he looked around at the burned bodies outside of the walls, the smell of burnt flesh heavy in the air. It was a macabre and sickening greeting.
“What in the hell is going on here?” he demanded of Maddoc. “Who is this?”
He was pointing to the funeral pyres, still smoldering as the smoke was trapped by the mist. Maddoc glance at them but didn’t look any more than that; he had been seeing them, and smelling them, for three days.
“We have seen some action here, my lord,” he said, stating the obvious. “Forgive me, but… how did you know to come here? And Lady Emilie permitted you to come with the sickness you have been suffering?”
David looked at him. “She could not stop me,” he said, hacking a nasty cough. “I had to come. Daniel is involved in something serious and I would not stay away. Answer my question, Maddoc; what is going on? Where is my son?”
Maddoc could see that David was irritated, and weary, and still ill. He was drawn and very pale, especially on this cold morning. But his appearance was a great shock. “How much do you know about the situation?” he asked. “You must have received the missive from Lord Christopher. I was there when he sent it. Did he tell you to come? If he did, I was not aware.”
David shook his head. “Nay,” he said flatly, turning away from the gruesome sight to face his captain. “He did not tell me to come. Henry sent me here.”
Maddoc’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Henry, my lord?”
David nodded. “In addition to my brother’s missive about this situation, I received a missive from the king telling me that my son had usurped a castle in West Yorkshire called Shadowmoor,” he said, his gaze moving to the big walls of the fortress. “Henry told me that my son had stolen the property, and the heiress, from a relative named Bramley. Henry demanded I do something about it so here I am. I have ridden for several very long days to get here and I am in no mood for foolery, Maddoc. Where is my son? What is going on here?”
Maddoc understood a lot in that brief and irritated statement. “I see,” he said. Then, he pointed to the smoldering bodies. “That is Bramley’s army.”
Shocked, David looked at the smoking piles again. He simply stared at it for a moment, wondering how he was going to tell Henry that his son had burned the king’s relative’s army like last night’s meat. More confused than ever, and fed by his exhaustion, his frustration was evident.
“I think you had better tell me what is happening, Maddoc,” he said, coughing yet again. “All of it. Why is my son making a Viking funeral out of Bramley’s army?”
Maddoc could see that David wanted all of the information as quickly as he could deliver it. That was the way David’s mind worked. Maddoc had been with David for many years and knew how the man operated. Therefore, he indicated for him to follow him inside the fortress.
As David went with Maddoc, Gerid, the knight who had accompanied him north, hung back to take charge of the army. The men from Canterbury were a bit on edge by the grisly sight of the burning dead, so Gerid got them moving, following their liege into the great run-down fortress that was evidently their destination. The gates opened before them like the gates to Purgatory.
Inside the fortress, things weren’t much better. It was clear there had been a battle and David found himself looking around in concern. Maddoc, however, was immune to the sight. He spoke.
“I am not sure where to start, my lord, so I will simply start from the beginning,�
� he said. “First of all, let me assure you that Daniel did not usurp or steal Shadowmoor from anyone. Quite the opposite, actually. Lord Bramley had been harassing Shadowmoor for years, burning crops and killing livestock, so much so that by the time Daniel happened across the fortress, they were starving to death because of Bramley. It is Daniel who took up the defense of Shadowmoor, reached out to a neighbor to establish an alliance, and generally try to help these people as Bramley continued to threaten and lie and harass. Bramley even managed to coerce the heir of Shadowmoor into killing his father by promising the man lands in France in exchange for Shadowmoor upon his father’s death. It has been hellish for these people, my lord. Daniel was simply trying to do something good.”
David wasn’t surprised by the story. In fact, that was the son he knew, the man he adored. Daniel had a heart of gold and, to be truthful, David was greatly relieved. It made the long and arduous ride north worth it to hear the reality of what Daniel had involved himself in. But there was more to the story that he needed to know.
“Then why is Bramley’s army burning outside of the gates?” he asked.
Maddoc sighed heavily. “This is where the tale grows unhappy, my lord,” he said. “Three days ago, Bramley brought a missive from Henry awarding him Shadowmoor and the heiress.”
David’s brow furrowed. “You saw this missive?”
“I did, my lord.”
“Was it genuine?”
“It was, my lord.”
David had a sinking feeling. Not only had Henry sent a missive to him, but evidently he had sent one to Daniel as well. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the rest but he forced himself. “Where is it?”
“Burning with the men outside of the fortress walls.”
David grunted softly, briefly closing his eyes in distress. “You destroyed it?”
Maddoc nodded. “We did,” he said. “It is now in ashes, as is anyone who knew about it. If Henry ever inquires, we will know nothing about it.”
It seemed that they had done everything possible to ensure the message and contents and anything related to it were erased and David struggled not to become increasingly distressed over it.
“Do you think Henry will simply forget about this?” he asked. “He is not a fool, you know. He is aware of this situation and you simply seek to destroy the evidence?”
Maddoc nodded. “That would be a fair statement, my lord.”
David could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Are you truly so arrogant, Maddoc?” he demanded. “You think that by burning all of the evidence, this will all simply go away? Is that really why you did it?”
Maddoc paused, facing David in the heavy mist. The weather was as gloomy as his mood. “We did it because Bramley demanded that Daniel turn the fortress and the heiress over to him but Daniel would not comply,” he said, lowering his voice. “My lord, Daniel is in love with the heiress and she loves him. They plan to be married. He was not about to turn over the woman he loves to the likes of Bramley. Not even for a royal decree.”
That brought David’s building rage to a blinding halt. David looked at his captain, shocked by what he was hearing, for many reasons. When he should have been gravely concerned that his son had not only disobeyed a direct order from the king but burned the evidence, he found that he was focused on something that was far more important to him, personally.
“Daniel is in love with her?” he repeated, astonished. “Maddoc… are we speaking of the same Daniel?”
“We are, my lord.”
“My son?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“The wanderer who swore I would be dead before he provided me with a grandson?”
Maddoc sighed. “Aye, my lord.”
David was beside himself. A hand flew to his face in shock. “Is it true?”
“It is, my lord,” Maddoc said. “But that joyful news has taken a tragic turn. When Daniel and Lord Bramley were battling to the death, right here in this very bailey, the woman that Daniel is in love with, Lady Liselotte, was badly wounded. We think she was trying to kill Bramley herself, which she accomplished, but she got in Daniel’s way. He accidentally cut her, quite badly. Even now, she lies unconscious in the keep and Daniel is inconsolable. He wounded her, my lord, and he cannot forgive himself.”
David was pale by the time Maddoc was finished. Hand still on his face, he turned his gaze to the big square keep looming through the fog. He was trying to take it all in, this great and terrible news, and he was having difficulty. It was all so astonishing.
“Jesus,” he finally hissed. “Where is he?”
Maddoc indicated the keep. “This way, my lord.”
David hacked and coughed as he followed Maddoc to the keep, entering the heavily-fortified doorway into a room that had a second room adjoining it. The second room had a fire in the hearth and as David glanced at it, he noticed a boy sitting near the fire with four puppies and two small goats. When the boy saw him, he jumped up.
“Are you another knight?” the boy asked eagerly.
David smiled faintly. “I am.”
“Gunnar,” Maddoc said quietly. “This is Daniel’s father, the Earl of Canterbury. You must show him all due respect. My lord, this is Gunnar l’Audacieux, who is now the Lord of Shadowmoor at the deaths of his father and older brother.”
David looked at Gunnar as the boy came towards him, holding a puppy. “It is an honor to meet you, young Gunnar,” he said. He gestured to the dog. “That is a fine animal.”
Gunnar was inspecting David with big curious eyes. He finally managed to look at the puppy because David stuck out a finger to pet the animal’s head. “His name is Mark,” he said. Then, he turned to point to the rest of the pack. “The other dogs are Luke, Matthew, and John. The goats are Joseph and Mary. They are my friends.”
David nodded at the charming little boy. “Fine names,” he said.
“Even the female dogs have male names,” Maddoc leaned over to David and muttered. “And both goats are male.”
David lifted his eyebrows, thinking that to be a rather funny quirk. The child had obviously had the Bible drilled into him, so much so that he was naming his animal after holy characters regardless of their sex. Reaching out, he patted the lad on the head.
“Fine animals,” he repeated, but his attention was turning to the stairs that led up to the upper floors. “Again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Gunnar. I am sure I will see you soon.”
Gunnar stood there, holding his puppy, as David continued to follow Maddoc and the two men proceeded up the stairs. But before they could disappear from view, Gunnar ran after them.
“Are you here to help my sister?” he asked.
David and Maddoc paused on the stairs, glancing at the boy. “Does she not have a physic?” David asked Maddoc.
Maddoc nodded. “She does, my lord.”
David returned his attention to Gunnar. “All is being done to help her, boy,” he said. “I am here to see my son. Do you know Daniel?”
Gunnar nodded. “He is my friend, too.”
David smiled. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “He is a good friend to have.”
Gunnar didn’t say anything more but it was clear the wheels of his mind were working. He was a bright lad, curious as to the earl’s appearance. He thought it might have something to do with his sister, as everything did these days. They were keeping Gunnar away from her so she could rest and recover, and that was difficult for Gunnar. His father was gone and now his sister was injured. He felt very alone these days. Silently, he turned and went back into the solar to keep company with his animals.
As the boy went back down the stairs, Maddoc and David continued up to the next level where there were two chambers, one adjoining another. In the far chamber, they could see firelight and hear voices. People were moving around in there and the heavy scent of cloves wafted from the door. It was the smell of the physic and his medicaments, as strong scents were thought to ward off infection.
Maddoc appr
oached the entry, pushing the panel open slightly. David was behind him, blocked from view by the door, as Maddoc’s gaze sought out Daniel. He found the man sitting on the other side of the bed, sporting a growth of stubble and appearing generally exhausted and distressed. But Daniel had been like that for three days, ever since the tragedy happened. Maddoc called softly to him.
“Danny,” he said quietly. “I have need of you.”
Daniel heard his name but didn’t react right away. He had been staring at Liselotte, who was sleeping heavily on the bed. His blade had carved into the right side of her torso, cutting deep, and she had lost a massive amount of blood as the knights had desperately tried to stop the bleeding. It had been the most horrific moment of his life as they’d struggled to staunch the flow of bright red blood that had spilled out onto Bramley, lying dead beneath her. Daniel was certain that he’d killed her, too.
But the physic from Skipton didn’t seem to think any vital organs had been cut, fortunately. He was, however, concerned about her blood loss and any poison that might set in, so he had been watching the woman diligently for two and a half days, ever since Easton de Royans had come to fetch him. He’d cleansed the wound and stitched it, and even now continued to take the bandages off and douse it with wine every so often to try and keep the poison out. Something in the wine, he said, helped kill any poisons.
It had been Daniel’s world for three days. He had spent the days sitting with Glennie, and at times Easton and Maddoc and Caston when they came to visit for a while. Easton and Glennie had come when Caston had sent them word on what had happened. Easton had ridden to Skipton himself for the physic, bringing both the physic and his daughter to tend the lady. Even now, they were all in the room, helping the physic with whatever he needed.
Daniel had been very grateful for the help. With the physic in charge of Liselotte’s health, Daniel had been reduced to sitting and waiting. He was certain his buttocks had grown to the stool he had been perched on and when Maddoc called quietly to him, he pretended not to hear him but Maddoc hissed again and Daniel could no longer ignore the man.
The de Lohr Dynasty Page 191
