by Amy Mullen
The plan seemed to be working. Oliver was at his side, where Willis would normally be. He tried to put his sick seneschal out of his mind. Though still ill, Willis had stirred before Nicholas had left for Renoir, but he was not yet well. Nicholas now trusted Oliver with his life and knew he would be just as valuable in battle as Willis would have been.
The gate opened and more arrows rained down. Now was the time. He lifted his arm and motioned for forward progress. The shields held against the few arrows that reached them, and they all moved forward together. Henry's men behind them drew near, and Bigod's men came flooding out of the gates.
There were more men than Nicholas could count, but he held steady. He saw a few of his men fall, but he moved forward. Man after man came for him, but he put them aside quickly with his sword. He was not interested in soldiers. He wanted Gavin de Vere.
He did not see Gavin anywhere and did not have much time to look around. From the noise within the castle walls, he guessed Henry's men had gotten through the gate along the Thames unchallenged and were coming through the bailey.
Bigod's men were now sorely outnumbered. Some of them threw down their swords in surrender, and some still fought. There was still no sign of Gavin. Nicholas's men swarmed around him, protecting him from the few still brave enough to put up a fight. It was not much of a battle through, as they were now outnumbered two to one.
Nicholas could wait no more. He charged toward the gate and entered. No one stopped him. He took the steps two at a time to get to Gemma, only to find the cell empty. The door was locked, but she was not there.
"She's gone. You are too late," a voice behind him said. "You did not save my witch of a sister. My men had a fine time with her though. She screamed for you as they had their way with her."
Gavin was standing behind him. He was armed, his sword drawn and pointed at Nicholas. His eyes were wild.
"Where is she?" Nicholas said in an even voice. He refused to believe he was too late. He refused to believe he failed her. He loved her madly, totally, and completely. If he failed the woman he loved, he was nothing. Gavin was lying.
"I told you she is gone," Gavin said. "I waited here for you, knowing you would be stupid enough to come for her. Now I can kill you too."
Nicholas moved to take a dagger out, but Gavin darted aside too quickly. He drew back and swung. He missed, but he tried again. This time he hit Nicholas in the leg, running his sword through his thigh. Nicholas winced, and the pain shot through him. His leg started to falter, but he shifted his weight to the other.
"Nay!" he shouted, taking a swing at Gavin with his sword. It bounced off the stone wall with a clang. He pulled out a dagger and lunged while dropping his sword. There simply was not enough room for his sword in this passageway. Gavin moved out of the way, and the dagger hit the wall behind him.
"Henry's best man," Gavin said with a drawn out laugh, "has seen his last sunrise."
Gavin lunged again, but Nicholas was ready for him. He spun away, stepped forward, and his dagger hit the mark, sticking into Gavin's gut. The man fell to his knees as Nicholas withdrew the blade.
Footsteps alerted Nicholas, and he peered toward the stairs. He was expecting more trouble, but instead saw Oliver de Toeni.
"All is secure," he reported as he spotted the blood on the floor. "Are you hurt, milord?"
"Aye," Nicholas said, "but 'tis not a mortal wound. I cannot say the same for Gavin."
Both men studied the man at their feet, who was crumpled on the floor and curled in the fetal position. Crimson blood flowed from between his fingers and out onto the floor into a ghoulish puddle.
"Take him, unless he dies. Then leave him to rot. He is to be turned over to Henry, if he lives that long," Nicholas spit out, staring at the man who had eluded him for so long.
Oliver nodded as footsteps indicated they had more company. Nicholas recognized his own men.
"Hugh?" he asked Oliver.
"Dead."
"What of Gavin's wife?"
Oliver shrugged as he knelt to tie up Gavin so he could be removed. "We have not found her yet."
Nicholas nodded. He limped down the steps and out into the bailey. One of his men ran to him and noticed his wound. "Let me wrap that for you, milord."
"Quickly!" he commanded. He still did not know what had become of Gemma.
Once the leg was wrapped, he walked to the main gate, trying to ignore the pain in his thigh. It was easy, because the pain in his heart was much worse.
****
To Gemma's surprise, she and Helena made it to the woods without trouble. She had closed her eyes and sprinted like the wind. She did not look back, and she did not let go of her sister-in-law. They had tripped twice, but got right back up and ran again.
They stopped after entering the woods. Gemma could not get enough air into her lungs as she gasped over and over again. She did not have the energy she normally had, and the run had taken everything she had left.
She glanced back but could not see the castle. A horse neighed, and she hoped it was Blackstone men nearby. Gathering Helena, she moved through the branches. When they came upon the horses, she saw Matthew. He was next to a group of younger men, most holding shields and tending horses, far from the battle.
"Lady Gemma!" Matthew said as he ran to her. "You are well!"
"Aye," she said with tears. She was so happy to be safe. "Where is my husband?"
"He fights." Matthew gestured toward the castle. "Henry sent many men, and the Bigod forces are outnumbered. It should not be long before 'tis over."
She went toward the castle when Matthew stopped her. "With all the respect you deserve, I must order you to stay put. You have been in enough danger. You must wait here for Oliver or Nicholas to arrive."
Gemma obeyed without complaint. She sat down against a tree with Helena at her side.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The bandage was too tight, but Nicholas was determined to search the castle from top to bottom until he found his wife. She had to be somewhere, and he would not rest until he found her. He sent his men out in groups to search different areas as he went alone. All of the men-at-arms employed at Renoir had either been killed or were now being loaded on a boat to be sent back to London. Nicholas was not sure what Henry was going to do with all of them. He had a personal interest in keeping the castles along the Thames in his hands, so he was also getting the prisoners.
Carefully, he went back up the stone steps leading to where Gemma was being held, moving slowly. His leg was stiff, and he could not bend at the knee because of the wrap. He took the steps as quickly as he could, despite the pain. The passageway was dark when he got back up there. Gavin was gone. He did not know if he had died or if he was on the boat with the rest of them, heading toward London, nor did he care. Gavin's explanation no longer mattered. He just wanted to find his wife.
The door to the cell that had once held Gemma was now hanging open. It was dark, and it smelled like filth. He shouted an order down the steps, and one of his men came up with a torch. He took it from him and walked into the room. A storm had rolled in again. Lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the entire room for just a brief moment. What a dreary place it was. He imagined Gemma being held here and cringed.
There was not much to the room. He saw the dirty pallet upon which she must have slept. It smelled like urine, and the kirtle she had been wearing when she disappeared was lying on it in a heap. The table was empty, and the small stool was tipped over. There was nothing else other than the dirty reeds littering the floor and the lone chamber pot in the corner.
For a better view, he left the room and walked up to the top of the curtain wall to look below. He could see his men going in and out of rooms and outbuildings. No one had found her, but he saw the men from his ranks who had been missing. Someone discovered them in another dungeon within the castle. Moving as quickly as he could, he went back down to the bailey and headed toward the great hall. Once there, he found the steps l
eading up to the solar. The wound in his leg was aching now, and blood was flowing anew through the linen. He needed to rest, but he would not stop until he found her.
He tore through each of the rooms he found. Piles of clothing were strewn about. A bed was overturned as if someone had already searched each room carefully. He found nothing that suggested Gemma had been anywhere. The storm outside suddenly dumped a torrent of rain. Thunder sounded every three seconds, and he knew it was time to go before the river rose too high and prevented their passage home.
She was no longer there. He knew it in his gut. It was time to send most of his men home. Before he left, he would entrust a few of his men to come up with a search plan. He would find her. She would choose to leave him and go to her uncle, but he still had to know she was alive. The pain in his heart was too heavy to bear, but he would see her off if it meant her happiness.
****
Gemma paced under the cover of trees as she waited. The storm was now overhead, and heavy drops of rain pelted the leaves above her. Out in the open, the rain danced on the hard-packed earth, and puddles formed before her eyes.
"Where is he?" she demanded to no one in particular. Helena was still sitting at the foot of the tree, shivering.
"Are you well?" she asked her.
"Aye, I am well. I am just scared. I do not know what is to become of me. The marriage to Gavin was my last hope. My family is all but gone, and I have nowhere to go."
"You will be cared for," Gemma said as she sat next to her. "You risked everything to save me, and I shall not forget that. All I can say is I am sorry for my brother. He is not well. He is not the man I remember growing up. We did not spend a lot of time together, but he is not the same. My father taught us to take what we want honestly. He is nothing of what he should have become."
A tear rolled down Helena's cheek as she spoke. "He was so kind when we met. He had dreams of being a great knight. He just could not hang on to it. Once knighted, he started to falter. He was in the shadow of something he did not explain. He began to spend more time away, and he often disappointed the king. I do not know what he was doing. I should have found a way out then. The Gavin who brought me to Renoir was not the man I met and fell in love with. I cannot explain it."
"And you do not have to," Gemma said. "Now dry your eyes and look forward. I will see you are cared for."
She nodded but said nothing more.
Gemma stood and gazed down at Helena as she pondered what led her brother down a bad path. Her thoughts were interrupted by shouting.
She ran to the edge of the woods to see some of her men carrying a man out of the castle. At first she thought it might be Gavin or one of the Bigods, but it did not take her long to see it was her husband.
Without thinking, she raced out of the woods, not bothering to ask if all was clear. She stopped short and stared at her husband. He was pale. The bandage on his leg was leaking, and he was bleeding anew. There was no time to waste. He had pushed himself too hard. Gemma did not know what had happened, but she knew he would not rest until he knew the castle was secure.
With care, he was carried into the woods, and she refused to leave his side. He was placed under a canopy of trees that kept some of the heavy raindrops from pummeling them. Barely conscious, he moaned as he was lowered to the ground. He blindly reached out with his hand. He grabbed hers and held on tightly.
"We cannot wait!" she cried. "We must get him across the river before it becomes too high. He will die if I cannot get the bleeding stopped."
"My dear," Oliver said, "a boat awaits. There is enough room for the injured. You will take the trip with your husband. I will come with you as well. The rest will cross the river and arrive as soon as they can safely do so. We must hurry!"
His men were already getting ready to leave. Most were mounted, and the injured were being moved away from the castle. The immobile could be carried across a horse for such a short ride to the river's edge, but Gemma did not want to move Nicholas that way. She did not have much choice in the matter because they had to get home as quickly as they could.
Nicholas was raised up so he could sit in front of Oliver on the seneschal's destrier. He was unsteady at first, but he righted himself and commanded that Gemma also ride so they could all get to the boat and then home at once.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When they returned to Blackstone, the drawbridge on the River Thames was lowered quickly. The men left behind were ready for them to return. Rain still fell, and the waters in the moat were rising. The thunder had abated some, but it appeared it would rain for the rest of the day and on into the night.
Father Darius and Leda were waiting in the great hall for the wounded. They had trestle tables ready as temporary beds. Piles of linen strips, buckets of steaming water, and candles were laid about the room.
There were some serious injuries, but all of the men came home alive. Oliver sent some of the men who stayed behind to ride out to meet those coming from the river crossing. Gemma ordered Nicholas carried up to their chambers, and someone came to help. Leda was assisting Father Darius, so she sent her daughter, Adela, up to aid her. Helena came along to see if she could help too.
"How fairs Willis?" Gemma asked Adela as she entered the room with the supplies she had requested.
"He is awake but awfully tired," Adela said with a slow nod.
"Helena," Gemma said, turning toward her sister-in-law, "would you go into the room to your left to see if there is anything he needs? Adela, please go with her so Willis is not alarmed by a new face. 'Tis hard to be immobile when one is used to being strong and in control. Tell him all is well now. Blackstone is secure at last."
"And Adela," she said with a smile, "Matthew is well. Do not worry for him."
Leda's daughter blushed and nodded. Her relief was obvious. With that, both girls left the room, leaving Gemma alone with Nicholas.
Using care, she deftly unwound the bandage on Nicholas's leg. He said nothing, but he watched her as she worked. The silence was unnerving. She washed the wound gently.
She then dumped some wine on the wound and heated a needle in the fire. This was going to be the hard part. The wound was not as bad as it appeared, but he needed to be stitched. He winced as she did her work, but she did it quickly. Her husband remained silent.
"Rest. Oliver will see to everything," she said as she pulled a coverlet up over him. He was exhausted, and she did not wish to argue with him.
He nodded and closed his eyes. He was asleep before she could say anything else. She quickly changed out of her wet clothes and left the room.
She made her way down the steps to see if anyone else needed attention. The air about the great hall was much different than it had been in a long time. Many came to her, offering her hugs and good wishes, showing relief at her return. In all her years, she had never been so grateful to be home.
Laughter and excited chatter surrounded her. Servants were scurrying around with whatever cold food they could find so everyone could have something to eat. The fire was raging, and the room was warm. The rains still fell outside, but the mood over all who dwelt within the castle walls had lightened substantially.
Once she was sure everything was finished and there was nothing more for her to do, she went to find her sister. Isabel was finally free to be a child again, and she wanted to hug her and never let her go.
After spending time with a happy Isabel, she took her and Helena down for supper. Nicholas was still asleep, and she wanted him to rest. He appeared so tired and pale still, and she did not wish to disturb him. She knew Father Darius had gone up to check over her work, but he said nothing.
Isabel was off to bed with both Hesse and Helena, so she went up to sit upon the edge of her bed where Nicholas still slept. The sun was finally setting. A chill ran through Gemma as she realized she might be dead right now. She glanced over at her husband. His chest lifted and fell rhythmically with his breathing. A sigh escaped her lips. How she wished he retu
rned her love.
He had not tried to stop her when she talked of going to her uncle. Yes he had protested, but she did not believe he cared. In her heart she did not want to go. She could not, however, share his bed but not his heart. It would kill her in the end. Something had to change.
"What has you so worried, little one?" he said from the bed. She was surprised, not expecting him to be awake just yet.
"I am not worried," she said. It was a lie, but she wanted him to get well, not worry about her. "I just hope your wound will not get infected."
"Where is the woman?" he questioned.
"Who?"
"Gavin's wife. Was she not with us?"
"Aye, but she is not your prisoner," she said softly, as she got up and moved a small stool so she could sit next to the bed.
"And why is that?" he said, his eyes half closed.
"Because she came in the end to free me. She heard Gavin tell Hugh I was to be executed by sundown today. As it stood, she was not sure of her husband's intentions, but she thought he was to let me go. When she found out otherwise, she freed me and we made our way out the north gate and down to the woods."
"When was that?" he said, propping himself up on his elbows.
"The storm started not long after we were safe."
"Gemma, you are never to leave the castle without me again. Do you understand?" he said. "This has been a nightmare. I realize this was not your fault, but you threatened to leave and I thought you had."
She put her head down. "I'll not be your problem any longer, Nicholas. You almost lost men today. You are injured. A battle was fought, and people died because of me. I will make good on my word. I will go to Wales, and you will have my lands if you so desire. I do not wish anything else to happen where harm could come to someone I love."
