The Death Wish

Home > Other > The Death Wish > Page 17
The Death Wish Page 17

by Jules Marks


  I knew that Lady Rebeccah was determined, but I still thought there might be something I could do to protect Larkin, to keep her safe from harm. Nevertheless, there was no point in arguing with the lady; she was accustomed to having her way…that was certain. I decided to hold my tongue on the matter. Sir Hugh’s counsel would be of value. There were other concerns to think on.

  “What other person knows of this?” I asked.

  “Only Ioan,” she replied. She shifted her gaze to look to the flames. “I had to tell him, Gael. He knew something was afoot, and he’d had his suspicions about Larkin for some time.”

  I guffawed. “At least one of us wasn’t blind. Does Larkin know you’re telling me now? How am I going to face her? I don’t know what to…” I left off saying any more because the door to the hallway was opening.

  “You’ll think of something,” whispered Rebeccah, as Larkin and Ioan appeared in the doorway.

  At first Larkin hesitated, and that answered one of the questions I’d just asked: she knew Lady Rebeccah had been telling me her story. I stood up, trying to swallow the lump that suddenly materialized in my throat, and the only thing I could think to do was to hold out my arms. Within seconds those arms were enfolded around a sobbing lass who was holding me as if I was a lifeline.

  I didn’t even notice when Ioan and Lady Rebeccah left the room; my attention was all centered on my granddaughter, Larkin, my purpose, the light of my life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  We talked into the morning hours. Larkin told me of her childhood, the happy early years when both Gwen and James were still alive. Gwen had been Larkin’s first archery teacher—perhaps that was why Larkin’s form seemed so familiar: I had been Gwen’s teacher, after all. My daughter’s influence had extended itself to many other aspects of Larkin’s personality and character, and I couldn’t help but credit Gwen with Larkin’s sweetness and her strength. The winter Larkin turned twelve was the turning point in her young life. Gwen died in an epidemic that swept the countryside around Saelmon. Though grief-stricken, Larkin and James did the only thing they could do: they kept on with their lives, trying to make the most of what was left them. When Larkin was almost fifteen, James’ liege lord ordered him to aid Conrad, lord of Tolmund, in a revolt that threatened his borders. Larkin refused to remain behind, and James took her with him.

  In Tolmund the twosome became friends with Sir Kerrick, at whose small keep they stayed during the frequent lulls between engagements. Months later, James was killed in a skirmish. Larkin’s only help came from the old bachelor, Sir Kerrick, who had become like an uncle to her. Though Sir Kerrick wasn’t particularly valiant or adventuresome, those very border wars resulted in the death of his own liege lord and the subsequent forfeiture of his keep. Sir Kerrick took pity on Larkin and took her as his squire with him on his subsequent travels. As they journeyed, Larkin held out the hope that they would travel into the land of Piereene, to the lands of Lord Geoffrey, and she realized her chance when Sir Kerrick heard of Lord Halwick’s call for aid. Sir Kerrick wasn’t eager to do battle, but he hoped to find a new home at Castle Beckman, so the twosome began their journey to aid Halwick.

  Of course, I already knew what had happened since that time…how chance, or God’s intervention, had brought we two together. I was enough of a realist to know that our time together might be brief: even if I succeeded in keeping Larkin from the coming battle, there was still a chance that I would be killed; therefore, I hoped to savor every moment I might spend with her.

  The fire had burned to glowing embers, and the lamp was sputtering as well. Larkin looked pitifully weary; though she was holding up her end of the conversation, I knew we both needed sleep. I suggested we turn in for the night, and she readily agreed. We walked back to Sir Hugh’s quarters arm-in-arm, and Larkin gave me a quick peck on the cheek before crawling under her covers.

  Tired as I was, I took a moment to drop to my knees beside my cot. I silently thanked God for my good fortune, and asked that he let Sarei know what had happened so that she might share in my joy.

  <><><>

  I may have been blissful in that moment, but all was not well in Castle Beckman. Being caught up in my own family drama, I had not considered the consequences of the previous night’s interview with the Uplander. Poor Lady Rebeccah! Her kindly Uncle Thomas, one of the happy constants in her life, was exposed as a rogue, a villain of the worst kind.

  I woke to the sound of Ioan speaking to a servant in the next room. The smell of hot bread wafted through the doorway; my empty stomach grumbled in response. I looked across at Larkin.

  She, too, had heard the others speaking, and she stretched and yawned like a cat as she rose from her cot. Having stayed up half the night, we’d slept long. The sun was bright and well on its way across the sky. Hugh was already up and gone…probably to the chapel, his home away from home of late.

  As we broke our fast, Ioan told us that he had had his own long interview late into the night…that he had been the bearer of the terrible news about Thomas to Rebeccah. Needless to say, the lady was miserable.

  “I can hardly imagine her grief,” I commiserated. “Do you know what has happened to Sir Thomas? Is he dead?”

  Ioan grimaced. “No, not dead. They haven’t even found him. According to the castle guard, he went through the gates late last evening and never returned. He may be somewhere down in the town hiding; the soldiers are searching for him even as we speak.”

  We quietly considered the implications of this news as we chewed our bread.

  “And Ezrel?” ventured Larkin. “What of him?”

  “Who?” Ioan and I spoke in unison.

  “…Sir Thomas’ man, the Uplander. What has become of him?”

  I realized I’d never bothered to learn the man’s name; I suppose not knowing it made him seem less a person.

  Ioan answered Larkin’s question.

  “He is dead, beheaded. His remains are displayed on the battlements for all to see. Avoid the west wall if you don’t want to look.”

  As Ioan spoke, his eyes clouded over. I should have been used to it, but I still found it passing strange.

  Larkin bit her lip and looked down at her plate. “Ezrel was always kind to me. I don’t understand how he did those terrible things and could still seem so very pleasant.”

  “Evil often comes disguised,” I answered. I was about to say more, but we could hear footsteps and the clanking noise of armed men in the hall. Hugh, Akimba, and two of his guard came through the doorway. We all rose to greet them.

  “Ahh, here you all are,” said Hugh. He looked rested and well. He continued: “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever get up.”

  “If you had need of me, Sir…” I began.

  He waved my protest away. “You needed the sleep more than I had need of you this morning.” He smiled slightly and looked at the wall…as if he was preoccupied. “I had other matters to attend to,” he finished.

  “As did I,” said Akimba in a grim, weary voice. He directed his gaze towards Ioan. “We’ve just found Uncle Thomas. He’s dead, a suicide.”

  “How?” asked Ioan.

  “He hung himself. We found him in one of the stables, down in the town. A fitting end for the bastard, I’d say,” grumbled Akimba. “If it wouldn’t upset Rebeccah, I’d have his body put up next to that damned Uplander’s, but that’s not going to happen. For her sake, we’ll bury the scoundrel, though I’m certain the priests will take no part.” He displayed a folded piece of paper. “He left a note. I’m going to Rebeccah’s chamber now…to give it to her. Ioan, I thought you might want to come with me, to speak with her, to comfort her.” He faltered for a moment. “I don’t know how she’ll react. First Father and now Uncle Thomas…I don’t know what I may do for her.”

  “She’s stronger than you think,” suggested Hugh.

  “Certainly she’s tough, yes, but in matters of the heart, she’s still a woman.” Akimba shrugged. “Who among us could relate
to that?” he asked the room in general.

  I must admit that more than one of us had to bite our lips in response to his statement. I chanced a look at Larkin, and as her face coloured, she ducked her head and looked at the toes of her boots.

  Hugh broke the uneasy silence. “Yes, well, we do what we must.” He clapped his hands together, almost in benediction. “At least the mystery is solved, and the traitors are gone from our midst. Word of this will spread quickly: the troops’ morale should improve now.” He gestured towards the open door into the other room, to the sunlight streaming in through the leaded windows. “It is a glorious day outside. I, for one, need fresh air and exercise.” He nodded to me and to Larkin. “If you two would care to join me, I think that I may work with this lad a bit on his swordsmanship.”

  Larkin’s response was immediate and enthusiastic. “Ahh, Sir Hugh, I’d be honored!” Her smile was like a beacon.

  As for myself, I wasn’t so keen. I would have been happy of the offer the day before, but now my goal was to keep Larkin from combat, not train her for it. Sir Hugh seemed not to notice, but Akimba did. He shot me a quizzical look.

  “At least one of you likes the idea,” he said. “I wish that I had such pleasant diversions to look forward to…” He held up the note once again. “…Still, there are other matters to attend to.” He sighed and looked to Ioan. “Shall we?”

  Ioan nodded. “Let us see what we may do for the lady.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Had I not been so worried, I’d have been proud. Sir Hugh was a good and patient teacher, and Larkin a quick study. They’d been training well over an hour, and there was already tangible improvement in Larkin’s form. She’d remembered the tips Ioan had given her, and when she practiced Hugh’s methodical exercises, it was obvious that Larkin did, indeed, have potential to become a good swordsman…swordswoman, this is.

  I was leaning on the rails, watching every move, and didn’t notice I had a companion until he touched my shoulder.

  “It’s doing him good, don’t you think?” murmured Akimba as he settled beside me.

  I nodded in agreement. “Larkin is beginning to feel it: you can see the progress.”

  Akimba chuckled. “Actually, I was referring to Hugh, but you’re right, Gael: Larkin’s form has improved. She’s come a long way in the past few days.”

  Startled by his use of gender, I turned to stare at him. “You know?”

  He smiled, and tipped his head in Larkin’s direction as he nodded. “I do now. Rebeccah and Ioan just told me. They’re still back in Rebeccah’s rooms arguing about Larkin, about whether or not she should be allowed to fight.”

  “Ioan is taking my side?”

  “Assuming you don’t want her to go out with us…yes, he is.”

  “And where do you stand on the matter?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “She has proven herself an able warrior, and we can use every one of those we have…but I understand your point of view.” (He had seen my protest coming before it left my mouth.) “You’ve always been protective of her, even before you knew who and what she truly was, and I must admit that you are not alone in your desire to be so. I wish to heaven that she would stay behind, for I want no harm to come to yon lass. Still, I believe that ultimately it is Larkin’s choice, not yours, Rebeccah’s, or mine. She seems determined, after all. Think of it, Gael. Short of locking her up, what are we to do?”

  “Why not lock her up, then?” I asked, knowing in my heart it was a rhetorical question.

  “Come, come, you know that wouldn’t be right.” He gestured towards the yard. “We shall do our best to talk her out of it, but, judging from her attitude and how she’s performing right now, I believe you already know what her answer will be.”

  I groaned in response.

  “Do not forget, Gael, I’ve had a great deal of experience with Rebeccah regarding these matters. Sometimes there’s simply no point in trying to change their minds. Women! Hard to live with…and hard to live without.” Akimba shook his head, even as he smiled.

  “You have that right.”

  We watched for several minutes in silence, and then Hugh and Larkin stopped their exercise and began walking towards us. They were laughing and talking animatedly; both looked carefree, happy. Hugh riffled his hand through Larkin’s curls, telling her how well she’d done.

  Akimba nudged me. “Do you ever wish that you could hold a special moment…simply capture it in your mind so you could look at that picture later and remember it down to every detail?”

  I found it difficult to answer; I simply nodded at first and then managed to mumble an affirmative.

  Akimba gripped my forearm. I turned to look into his sparkling black eyes. He stared at me for just a moment, and then he blinked, swallowed hard, and turned away.

  “It has been a hard week,” he murmured.

  “So it has,” I agreed.

  “It will certainly become harder still; not all of us will survive it,” he added in a somber voice.

  “No…we will not,” I agreed again.

  Hugh and Larkin were almost upon us. Akimba turned towards them and forced a tight smile that within moments became genuine.

  “It appears you’ve both done well with your lesson,” he said to them.

  The two looked at one another, grinned, and then nodded in acknowledgement.

  “How is the Lady Rebeccah, then?” asked Hugh.

  “Better than I’d hoped. I suppose last night’s revelations had her prepared for something like this. Reading Thomas’ letter seemed to help instead of hurt.”

  “Do you know the contents…should I ask?” said Hugh.

  Akimba’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “Actually, quite a bit of the note was a tirade about me. Thomas carped about the fact that I am black of skin, how I don’t belong here and why I shouldn’t take Halwick’s place. You’d have thought he mixed bile with the ink. Thomas tried to justify his treacherous actions with some stupidity about it being for the good of the people. The whole thing made Rebeccah so angry…her grief seemed lessened as a result.”

  “Well, at least that good came of the note. I feared it would have the reverse affect,” said Hugh.

  Akimba shook his head and exhaled for affect. “No, it didn’t seem to hurt Rebeccah. They were harsh words, though, and I still wish I’d had the chance to confront that false beast.”

  Larkin ventured an opinion. “Perhaps, Lord Akimba, it is better that you did not. It would have been difficult to order death to a man you’d always considered a friend. Now there’s no need; you and Lady Rebeccah have been spared that heartache.”

  Larkin’s words seemed to have some effect. Akimba frowned, looked thoughtful, and then nodded. “I see the sense in that, Larkin.” He shrugged and straightened, as if the weight of Sir Thomas’s actions had fallen from his shoulders. “I have more important things to consider, after all.” He looked from me to Hugh before once again addressing Larkin.

  “Larkin, my sore leg needs loosening up. Why don’t you and I go up on the battlements and see what we may see? I believe Gael has something he’d like to discuss with Sir Hugh.”

  I held up a hand of caution. “Not the west side?”

  Akimba grimaced. “No, certainly not.” He gestured for Larkin to follow; she turned to give a hasty wave goodbye, and the two walked away.

  Sir Hugh raised his eyebrows and tapped at his chin with a finger.

  “Now, Gael, would you care to tell me just what is going on?”

  I blew out my breath. “I think we’d better sit down…”

  <><><>

  Sir Hugh’s reaction was pretty much what I would have expected. He congratulated me heartily, smiled until his eyes watered, and spoke again and again of the wonder of it all. He briefly referred to our earlier “death pact” and absolved me of all commitments in that regard.

  “God does work in mysterious ways, does He not?” said Hugh.

  I looked into his smiling face and saw a seren
ity there that had not been there for months. Perhaps those brothers at the chapel had done Hugh some good after all.

  “That He does,” I answered.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  By noon two days hence, I was beginning to feel as if God might have deserted us after all. Not that I blamed Him. I imagined that He would turn away rather than witness the spectacle we were subjecting ourselves to.

  The Uplanders had moved onto the plain during the previous night. They’d made camp just beyond bowshot. In the morning they set wood for huge cooking fires at the edge of camp most visible from Beckman’s walls. Upon those campfires they placed large cooking spits, and upon those spits they placed men…Akimba’s scouts.

 

‹ Prev