Castle of Dreams

by Speer, Flora

  “Very well.” Meredith gave up her burden and then nearly fell off her horse with weariness and the realization that they had achieved their purpose. She refused to think about the terrible cost of their mission. A firm male hand steadied her as she touched ground, helping her into the hall, where Geoffrey had laid the unconscious Thomas down on a bench near the fire. Meredith knelt beside him, rubbing his cold hands.

  She sensed it when the men crowding around Thomas separated, making way for a newcomer. She looked up, but Guy was not aware of her. All his attention was fixed on Thomas’s still form, and his blue eyes were moist as he bent over his nephew.

  “Thomas? Thomas. He is alive, isn’t he?” Then Guy’s gaze cleared and he stared at Meredith in bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”

  “Meredith rescued him.” Geoffrey gasped, swaying, his face pale, but he went doggedly on with his explanation. “That is, Sir Brian and I, and Branwen, and Meredith, all of us…”

  “Brian? Branwen? God’s Holy Teeth!” All of Guy’s rage and pent-up frustration of the past few weeks suddenly exploded in Geoffrey’s direction. “What is going on here? You and Brian were sent to Sir Walter to negotiate Thomas’s release. Did you drag these women along with you for entertainment? Did you lead them into that danger? How dare you disobey my orders, you unworthy squire? Where is Brian?”

  “My lord.” Reynaud was there, a calming presence, one hand on Guy’s shoulder. “If you would restrain yourself and let Geoffrey sit. Bring him a stool, someone. Do you not see, my lord, that Geoffrey has been wounded? In your understandable concern for Thomas, you have not noticed your squire’s hurt. Let ,Geoffrey rest and have a little wine, and then he can tell you all you want to know.”

  “Where,” Guy ground out, obviously making a valiant effort to restrain himself and failing, “where in God’s name is Brian? Answer me, Geoffrey. What has Walter done to Brian?”

  Meredith could stand no more. The sight of Guy abusing poor Geoffrey, who had risked his life to help rescue Thomas, was too much for her. Her own anger, and her unbearable grief, flared.

  “Brian is dead,” she cried, “and Branwen, too. They died so we could get Thomas safely away from Sir Walter. Geoffrey helped us. I think Thomas and I would not be here without him. But my aunt is dead. Oh, Branwen, Branwen.” She subsided into helpless tears.

  “What are you saying, girl?” Guy caught her hands and dragged her to her feet as she shrieked out her pain at him. He shook her angrily. “Why are you involved in this? Tell me what has happened!”

  “My lord, please.” That was Reynaud again, and under his cold glare Guy slowly released Meredith’s hands. “Here is Joan with a pitcher of ale, my lord. Let Geoffrey and Meredith drink, and rest a little, and then I am certain we will learn all we need to know. Meredith, can you tell us what is wrong with Thomas? Has he been injured in some way?”

  Meredith gulped back the tears that threatened to overcome her once more and spoke as calmly as she could.

  “I do not think he was badly mistreated during his captivity, Reynaud, but he has seen terrible things tonight and he has been frightened, and then we had a long, cold ride in the night air.”

  Reynaud nodded. Everyone knew the noxious humors that rose from the earth during the hours of darkness could adversely affect even strong, healthy men. How much more dangerous they must be to a terrified boy, weakened by a month’s confinement.

  “Can you help him?” the cleric asked her.

  “I will try. With your permission, Sir Guy?”

  “Yes, work your healing art on him, Meredith. He must live.” Guy’s lips were pressed into a thin, determined line.

  “Meredith needs help herself.” Joan faced Guy, ale jug in hand, looking as if she might throw it at him. “Just look at her; the girl is exhausted. She needs a warm bath and a cup of hot, spiced wine and some sleep.”

  “No, I’ll take care of Thomas first.” Meredith smiled gratefully at the servant. “Will you tend to Geoffrey? His arm is wounded, and he also needs a bath to ease his aches.” She looked down at Thomas, still unconscious.

  “We should keep him warm, my lord,” she said to Guy, “And I think some quiet place would be better for him than the great hall.”

  “Carry him to my chamber,” Guy ordered. “Put him in my bed. Meredith, take whatever you need from the castle stores to care for him. Geoffrey, I will want a report as soon as Joan has finished with you. Before daylight I want to know what has happened and whether we are to expect an attack on Afoncaer.”

  “Since he did not follow us at once, I think it will not be tonight or tomorrow,” Geoffrey said, rising to go with Joan. “It may be that Sir Walter will need a few hours to realize exactly what has happened, and then to decide what to do next.”

  “My lord, I helped to devise the plan to rescue Thomas,” Reynaud said. “If you wish, I will tell you all I know while we wait for Geoffrey. That will shorten the tale he has to tell, so he may rest sooner.”

  “You, Reynaud? Did everyone at Afoncaer know of this mysterious plan except the lord of the castle? I’ll deal with you later.”

  Reynaud was not a fearful man, but he quailed under the look Guy gave him before the angry lord of Afoncaer followed Meredith and the manservant carrying Thomas out of the great hall.

  Thomas was laid before the blazing fire in Guy’s private chamber. While the great bed was warmed with heated stones. Meredith and a serving woman sent by Joan to help her washed Thomas with hot water and then briskly rubbed his limbs with linen cloths until his hands and feet were warm again and a little color was restored to his pale face. They wrapped him in furs and woolen blankets and put him in Guy’s bed, piling more coverings over him and placing heated stones at his feet. When Thomas stirred and opened his eyes, Meredith fed him spoons of warm wine, and after a time he dropped into a sleep that appeared to be natural. All the while she worked, Guy had been standing by the fire, watching everything that Meredith did.

  “He will sleep now,” she told him at last.

  “Go to Joan,” he said, with not a trace of warmth in his voice. “She will have food ready for you in the women’s quarters, and clean clothes. When you have refreshed yourself, return to the great hall. I will speak with you and Geoffrey and Reynaud, all of you together.”

  His coldness was like a sword through Meredith’s breast. She loved him; he was everything to her. In the bed where Thomas now slept, she and Guy had lain together not so long ago, and taken such joy in each other. She had comforted him then; why could he not do the same for her now, when she needed it so desperately?

  She went quickly to the door, hiding her face so he would not see her tears. She left him looking down at Thomas’s ridiculously small form, nearly lost in the big bed. She did not think Guy noticed her going.

  Joan saw her tears and noticed how badly she was trembling with the reaction from all that had happened in the last day and night.

  “Drink this.” Joan handed her a large cup filled with hot, spiced wine, and then got out of her the few details she had not gotten from Geoffrey.

  “Of course Sir Guy is cold,” Joan said in her matter-of-fact way. “He must be. It’s not that he doesn’t feel the loss of Sir Brian, or your aunt, either. But he must not break down. It would be unmanly of him, and he has work to do. Women may weep, but men take out their grief in revenge. Walter fitz Alan will pay dearly for what he has done. Sir Guy will see to it.”

  By the time Meredith, nourished by Joan’s food and cheered by her concern, joined the group of men by the firepit, Reynaud and Geoffrey had nearly finished telling their stories to Guy.

  “And so you left Brian there, alone?” Guy’s handsome face was dark with anger and Meredith now realized, with pain.

  “It was at his order, my lord.” Geoffrey lifted troubled brown eyes to his master’s. “I did not want to leave him, nor did Meredith, but we knew our first duty was to bring Thomas safely home.”

  “And the other men who went to Tÿnant
with you and Brian? What of them?”

  “When I followed Sir Brian into the cellar, they had all found weapons and they were fighting Sir Walter’s men, trying to protect us until we could reach Thomas and the women. I do not think,” Geoffrey admitted, ‘that any of them will have survived. The odds against us were too great. Sir Walter has a large armed force to guard his home.”

  “How large? How are they disposed?”

  “I took careful note, my lord. Brian said I should, so that when I returned to Afoncaer I could report to you. He knew you would want to attack Sir Walter.”

  “That I do. Fortunately, my men from Adderbury arrived here earlier today, so I will have an adequate force for the venture.”

  Meredith thought Guy had not noticed her, but he had.

  “I am sorry for your aunt’s death,” he said. “Geoffrey has told me how bravely she died. But I am angry with all of you. I wondered why Brian, who was a warrior and not a talker, asked to go to Walter to negotiate. Why could you not have told me what you planned to do?”

  “That was on my insistence, my lord,” Reynaud said, “and it was against Meredith’s wishes. I thought it better for you not to know. I was afraid you would try to rescue Thomas yourself and thus put yourself into Walter’s hands. Also, if this attempt at rescue failed, you could honestly swear you knew nothing about it, and that honest swearing might save Thomas’s life.”

  “You are far too clever for your own or anyone else’s good, Reynaud,” Guy said, shaking his head. “I know Walter better than you, and I tell you if the attempt to rescue Thomas had failed, Walter would have killed him without hesitation and then attacked Afoncaer with all the men he had available. He would never have rested until the castle had fallen to him.”

  “He may attack you anyway,” Meredith said. “Sir Walter must be very angry, and not just at losing Thomas. Lady Isabel helped us.”

  “So I have heard.” Guy contemplated Meredith’s upturned face for a moment before he swung away and got back to business. “I will not wait for Walter to come to me. We will ride to Tynant tomorrow and attack him.”

  “I will go with you, my lord.” Geoffrey rose from the bench where he had been sitting. “Brian was my friend, too. I would help avenge his death.”

  “If there is anything I can do, perhaps parlay with Sir Walter before the fighting begins,” Reynaud offered, “I, too, would be pleased to ride with you.”

  “You have already done more than enough,” Guy began, frowning at the architect.

  “No,” Meredith cried, “I will not have you blame this honest man whose only concerns were for Thomas’s safety and your welfare. The first idea for an attempt at rescue was mine, though I think Branwen, too, had some similar thought, and hers was the information that made it possible. Reynaud refined our rough plan so we had a better chance of success, and as for Geoffrey, he knew nothing of it until Brian wisely confided in him last night. So if you are to blame or punish anyone, let it be me and not these men, who have been your honest servants in this, though if you were to ask me, I would say you should thank all of us for what we have done.”

  She saw laughter and then surprise in Guy’s face before he controlled himself.

  “Is this the quiet, gentle Meredith I thought I knew? Reward? Aye, I’ll consider it,” he said, with just a hint of teasing. “But later. I have a lot to do before morning. Geoffrey, if you want to go with me tomorrow, get some sleep. Meredith, I expect you to stay with Thomas. Reynaud, come with me now. I have orders for you and for Captain John, who will be in command here in my absence.”

  They went out into the bailey, Guy leading the way, Meredith and Reynaud a little behind him.

  “It was sweet to me,” Reynaud said softly, “to hear you defend me as you did, Meredith. I thank you for those kind words.”

  “I only spoke the truth.”

  “Nevertheless…”

  “Reynaud, are you coming?” Guy spoke impatiently, and Reynaud hurried to him, not looking back.

  Meredith went to sit with Thomas. Guy came to his room several hours later to check personally on the boy’s condition.

  “He hasn’t stirred,” Meredith reported, rising from the chair by the fireplace to stand beside him and look down at Thomas. “Sleep is what he needs.”

  “What you need, too, by the look of you. I’ll have Joan send a serving woman to watch him so you can rest.” Guy put an arm across her shoulders. “You were very brave, my sweet and very foolish, to do what you did.”

  “I wish Brian and Branwen -” She could not go on. She put her head on his shoulder and wept with grief and weariness, and this time, his earlier anger spent in preparations for action, he held her and let her cry until she was done.

  “And now you will go into danger,” she said at last, wiping her eyes. “What will happen to Thomas, to all of us here, if Walter defeats you?”

  “He cannot defeat me. He is in the wrong,” Guy said. When she looked up at him sharply, he smiled. “That is what Thomas, our true and gentle knight-to-be, would tell us.”

  He let her go then. He went to the door and opened it, glancing back at her.

  “We will win against Walter,” he said, “for Brian and Branwen, and most of all for Thomas. I promise you that. I will return, and when I do…” He went out, leaving the sentence unfinished.

  Chapter 31

  When morning came Thomas’s condition was worse. His breathing was shallow and harsh. Meredith could tell before she touched him that he had a fever. He drifted in and out of consciousness, occasionally muttering disconnected words or half-sentences, all having to do with his imprisonment and the deaths of Brian and Branwen. He did not seem to hear her words of comfort.

  After watching over him for a while, Meredith decided what she must do. She gave the serving woman instructions to sponge Thomas with cool water and not to leave him, and then she went to find Guy. She knew he had spent most of the night in preparation for the attack on Tynant. He and his men would leave as soon as it was light enough for them to see their way. She found him in the great hall.

  He’d had only the briefest of naps, and his face was lined with weariness and strain, but Meredith, watching while Geoffrey armed him, knew that whatever the cost to himself, Guy would not rest until Walter fitz Alan was his prisoner or dead in battle. She waited, controlling the urgency she felt, until Guy had finished with Geoffrey.

  He came to her at last, striding across the great hall in his knee-length hauberk of chain mail, his mail hood raised and fastened, his iron bascinet held in one gloved hand. He would not don this heavy, uncomfortable second helmet until the last moment before the battle was to begin, but he must be otherwise prepared to fight at any instant in case Walter should make a surprise attack while Guy and his men were riding to Tynant. His personal blazon, the diagonal row of three gold diamonds, gleamed across the chest of his wine red surcoat.

  Meredith looked at him and saw the glittering knight to whom she had given her heart two and a half years before. How much more she felt for him now than the paltry emotions that had fluttered in her breast on that day. Now she knew him, his fairness and justice, his occasional anger, his patience toward others, and most of all, his fierce passion and his capacity for tenderness. She loved him with her whole heart and soul, with all of the woman’s passion he had kindled in her, and she would love him until she died.

  “I leave you in Captain John’s good care,” Guy said. “He will guard Afoncaer, with Reynaud to assist and advise him about the defenses, until I return. Remain here at the castle until then.”

  “My lord, about Thomas.” She stopped, seeing concern flare in his eyes.

  “You said last night he needed only sleep. I’ve not looked in on him today, not wanting to disturb his rest. What’s wrong?”

  “He is feverish; he’s very ill. I am afraid for him.” She put out one hand, searching for the warmth of his. She found only cold chain mail as his gloved fingers closed over hers.

  “He wi
ll live.” It was a statement, not a question. “You will not let him die, Meredith. Walter has much to pay for, and by God, if Thomas has not recovered by the time I return, I will kill Walter myself and in the slowest, most painful way I can devise.” The grim set of his square jaw told her he did not lie.

  “That is why I wanted to speak to you before you left Afoncaer. I do not wish to disobey you, but I must leave the castle.”

  “I order you to remain here.” The harsh voice of command softened suddenly. “Meredith, I am depending upon you. Please stay with Thomas.”

  “It’s for Thomas’s sake I must go. I need your permission, for I know Captain John will never let me pass the gates without it. Guy, stored in the cave are medicines that could help Thomas. Give me leave to go and get them.”

  “Not alone. Walter may have sent his men into the forest around Afoncaer to try to discover what my plans are. If you must go, it will be only with armed guards.”

  She tried to joke, hoping to smooth away his concern over Thomas and herself with a laugh, for he ought not to have to think of anything just now but the expedition against Walter.

  “Will your guards,” she asked, “be willing to carry baskets of herbs and medicines back to the castle?” She saw the smile she had hoped for rising at the picture she had conjured up of men-at-arms tramping through the forest burdened with her supplies.

  “They will if Captain John or I order them,” he said.

  “Then I will be glad of their aid,” Meredith told him. “And also if they will help me seal up the cave entrance. I do not want to return there to live, Guy, not with Rhys and Branwen both gone. I will take away whatever we can carry, and then I will remain here at Afoncaer until Thomas is well and this contest with Walter is finished. After that, I will decide what to do, but I will not live in that cave again.”

  “I am glad to hear it. We will talk more of this later.” A man in boiled leather armor stepped through the door to the bailey and called to Guy. “I must leave now. I will tell Captain John to provide an escort for you to the cave.”