The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Sean,” he said quietly.

  Sean glanced up but when he saw who it was, he went back to work. “What is it?”

  “I just wanted to say…” Kevin stopped and started again. “I just wanted to say something. When we were very young, we went into town with Father because he wanted to purchase candied grapes and lemon rinds from the woman in the village of Pool for Mother. She was dying at the time and wanted the sweets. Do you recall that moment?”

  Sean paused in tightening the ropes, confused with the topic of conversation at this ill-timed moment. “I do.”

  Kevin scratched his ear as he tried to think of the right words. “Do you also recall that I stole a stick that had candied apple slices on it? Just because I wanted it?”

  “I do, indeed.”

  “I was very young,” Kevin said. “I was nearly four years of age, I think. You were six. I was old enough to know better, however, and I greedily ate the apple slices. You saw what I’d done and you took the stick from me just as Father caught sight of you. He punished you for that and you never told him that I was the one who stole them. Why didn’t you tell him?”

  Sean returned to his ropes with slower actions now. “Because you were my little brother,” he said simply. “It was my duty to protect you.”

  Kevin spoke softly. “You are still protecting me. Only now, you are protecting all of England, too. You are still the big brother, taking the blame for things that are not of your doing.”

  Sean didn’t look at him, but he was no longer fumbling with the ropes. He was simply fingering them. “What would you have me say, Kevin?”

  Kevin could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t know why, but he was close to crying. Perhaps because there was a history of Sean being a martyr for the greater good and he could see that now. He’d put it into a context he could understand and, suddenly, he didn’t hate Sean so much anymore. He was starting to understand all of it. He opened his mouth to speak but a sob caught in his throat.

  “I hate that you have to take the blame for a man who is not worthy of you,” he said, his lip trembling. “I hate that the man I love and admire most in this world is reviled and hated. Mayhap I do not show you the respect you deserve on the surface, but inside, I love you like I have always loved you. I just hate that you have done this to yourself, Sean. I… I am trying to come to grips with it and I will continue to try. I promise I will. But I do not hate you. I just thought you should know.”

  Even in the darkness, Kevin could see the tears glistening on Sean’s cheeks and he turned way, but not before releasing another sob. He simply couldn’t help it. Emotions he’d kept bottled up for years were coming to the surface whether or not he wanted them to. Here, of all places. But he quickly wiped his face and took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself as he headed over to his horse.

  He’d said what he needed to say.

  It was the right thing to do.

  As the sky began to cloud overhead, the agents of William Marshal departed the small bailey of Fairstead and headed out into the night, taking the road back to Dereham.

  Kevin rode with Sean all the way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  It hadn’t been much of a fight.

  In fact, Christopher’s army saw about an hour of serious fighting before the royal soldiers began to surrender in droves. Perhaps that was because they’d lost about one-third of their numbers in that hour, or perhaps it was because they’d grown lazy and simply didn’t want to fight anymore.

  Whatever the reason, Christopher had sixty-one prisoners surrender to him by midday and by nightfall, he decided to send them all back to John with their weapons stripped and their tunics torn up and vandalized. Come the next morning, he planned to do exactly that.

  While his men guarded the prisoners in a field south of town, Christopher and David and Peter had supped heartily and slept in The Cock and Bull, a tavern that they found to be a step above most. The food was excellent, the beds soft, and Christopher was awakened before dawn the next morning by Peter, shaking him gently.

  “Papa?” Peter whispered loudly. “Papa, wake up.”

  Christopher had been sleeping heavily, enjoying his first real sleep in days. “I am awake,” he muttered. “But you had better have a good reason for disturbing me.”

  “I do,” Peter said. “Christin has returned!”

  Christopher sat up so quickly that he nearly hit his son in the chin. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Peter was pulling him out of bed. “She just rode into the livery,” he said. “Sherry and Maxton and Sean and the others are with her. They brought her back!”

  Christopher was in his breeches and a thin tunic and nothing else. He yanked on his boots, tying them haphazardly as he rushed out of the chamber after his son. He was just passing David’s door when he kicked it open, revealing David passed out on his small bed.

  “David!” he hissed. “Get up! Christin has returned!”

  David struggled to rouse himself, rolling out of bed and ending up on the floor as Peter and Christopher continued down the stairs into the common room of the inn. As David scrambled up and grabbed his boots, Peter and Christopher were already out the door, rushing over to the livery just as Christin and Alexander and the rest were dismounting their thoroughly exhausted horses.

  The first thing Christopher saw was the headless body on the back of Sean’s sweaty horse. He came to a halt, peering at it and suspecting who it was before he was even told. Sean, seeing where Christopher’s attention was, made his way over to him.

  “It’s FitzRoy,” he said as he wearily removed his helm. “Christin and Sherry made short work of him.”

  “Sherry killed him because he was trying to kill me,” Christin said as she came out from between a couple of horses. She went straight to her father and they embraced tightly. “Sherry saved my life, Papa.”

  Christopher was holding her so tightly that he was certain that he was squeezing the life out of her, but she clung to him tightly as well. The joy of having her back in his arms, safe, was almost more than he could bear.

  “Are you well, sweetheart?” he asked. “He did not hurt you, did he?”

  Christin shook her head, releasing her father but realizing he had no intention of releasing her also. She had to pry his hands from her.

  “I am fine,” she assured him. “Did you hear me? Sherry killed him.”

  Christopher took a deep breath, struggling to compose himself because he was so damned relieved to see her. “I heard you,” he said. “Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

  “We reached Fairstead Manor, which is FitzRoy’s home,” Alexander answered him. He was standing a few feet away, back behind the butt of a horse, and all attention turned to him as he spoke. “When we arrived, FitzRoy came to speak with us and Sean told him that his father wished for him to marry Christin, but there was an immediate complication with that because FitzRoy was already married.”

  Christopher’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “He was?” he said. “And John did not know this?”

  Alexander shook his head. “He did not,” he said. “FitzRoy ranted about how his father never cared for him, so he’d evidently married without permission.”

  That changed the entire dynamic of the situation and the impact wasn’t lost on Christopher. In truth, he was stunned.

  “Christ,” Christopher hissed. “So FitzRoy was already married. But what happened that you had to kill him?”

  “Because he considered Christin a gift and wanted to take her as his whore,” Alexander said. “She fought against him valiantly. But in the end, I stepped in to end it. I was not going to stand by and watch her fight for her life.”

  “And that is how he ended up headless?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Where is his head?”

  “Here,” Kress said, lifting up a bloody tunic he’d wrapped around the skull. “He is in pieces, my lord.”

  Christopher stood there a mom
ent, pondering the situation, before going to Kress and collecting the head. He opened up the tunic enough to examine the state of the head before wrapping it back up again.

  “The damage to his face,” he said. “How did that happen?”

  “When your daughter hit him in the face, twice,” Alexander said. “As I said, she fought valiantly, but I delivered the final blow before he could gain the upper hand.”

  “I told you that he saved me, Papa,” Christin said, wrapping her hands around his forearm and gazing up at him with her big, gray eyes. “Does that not deserve a reward?”

  Christopher knew what she meant, the little minx. Like her mother, she knew how to manipulate him. He was so glad to see her that his defenses were down and she knew it. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow at her before handing the head over to Sean.

  “You are going to take the head and the body back to John,” he told him. “You will tell him that I killed FitzRoy in retribution for the abduction of my daughter. I am the one who delivered the death blow and I captured you and your army and forced you to return the body to the king along with a message.”

  “What message might that be, my lord?” Sean asked.

  Christopher’s eyes narrowed. “Tell him that if he ever seeks to touch my family again, in any way, that I will find him and I will kill him. That is my message to the king, Sean, and know that I mean it. If you stand in my way, I will consider you the enemy as well. I will have little choice. Do you understand me?”

  Sean nodded. He wasn’t offended. In his position, he couldn’t afford to be. “I do, my lord,” he said. “John… it could go either way with him. He will either single you out for a vendetta or he will leave you alone.”

  “He hasn’t left me alone for twenty years.”

  “There is always a first time for everything, my lord.”

  Christopher nodded as if he didn’t quite believe that. “We shall see,” he said. “In any case, the remainder of the king’s troops are south of town, being held captive by my men. I shall have Peter take you over there with a sword to your back so that your men believe I captured you also and gave you FitzRoy’s body. That should keep the illusion of your loyalties alive for them.”

  Sean nodded. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Christopher reached out, clapping Sean on the shoulder. “You do valuable work for us, Sean,” he said. “I would never knowingly betray your position and I would kill anyone who tried. That being said, get back to John and deliver my package. If he is wise, he will let things lie. If not…”

  They all knew what was at stake. Sean tied the head off on his saddle and with Peter to his back, led the horse back down the road, towards the group of men being held by the de Lohr army. As he faded into the coming dawn, Christopher turned to the other men around him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For helping regain my daughter, I am indebted to all of you. You are all great men in your own right and I respect you for it. Except for Maxton, of course. I reserve a special sentiment for him.”

  Everyone grinned except for Maxton, who pursed his lips wryly. There was no love lost between him and Christopher, yet they would die for each other without question. It made for a strange relationship, indeed.

  “If Sean is heading back to London to deliver FitzRoy to the king, I do not think it would cause The Marshal too much trouble if the rest of us took the day and night to sleep,” Maxton said. “None of us has slept very much in the past few days. I could use a good meal and a soft bed myself.”

  Christopher waved him off. “All of you need a good meal and some sleep,” he said. “I will send Peter to The Marshal to report on what has happened because I am quite certain that my son has slept more than the rest of you have, and also because I doubt Sherry is going to want to take the time to report to the man even though he is the mission commander. He has other things on his mind.”

  Whenever the Executioner Knights went on a mission, it was usually Alexander in command because he had a natural air of leadership about him and was flawless in his decisions. Technically, Sean may have concocted the plan, but Alexander had commanded the men to it. But Christopher’s final comment had Alexander looking at him strangely.

  “My lord?” he said.

  Christopher looked at him, his eyes glimmering at him. “My daughter says you saved her life,” he said quietly. “That, indeed, deserves a reward. Tell me what you desire and you shall have it.”

  A smile spread across Alexander’s face. He wasn’t sure if Christopher meant Christin, but he suspected he might. Perhaps the man had finally decided to leave his daughter to her happiness, after all. It couldn’t have been an easy thing for Christopher to acknowledge and Alexander understood that. Surely it was difficult for any man to let his daughter go and Alexander hoped to find that out for himself, one day. He hoped to have many sons and daughters with the woman he’d chosen for his wife.

  For the man who had been a loner for most of his life, it was truly a time of end.

  But it was also a time of beginning.

  “My greatest desire is to marry your daughter, my lord,” he said, looking at Christin. “I could imagine no greater honor or blessing.”

  Christopher sighed heavily, realizing that he was, indeed, losing his eldest daughter. It was such a bittersweet moment, but one he had known would come someday. He simply wasn’t ready for it, even if she was all grown up. David came to stand next to him and put a brotherly hand on his shoulder.

  “Welcome to the family, Sherry,” David said before Christopher could respond. “Christin could ask for no finer husband.”

  Alexander beamed and so did Christin. Realizing she had her father’s approval, she threw her arms around Alexander’s neck, hugging him tightly as he picked her up and swung her around, joyful beyond measure. As Maxton, Kress, Caius, Bric, and Kevin congratulated the pair on their happiness, Christopher held up a silencing hand.

  “Wait,” he said, getting everyone’s attention. “There is something I must know.”

  Alexander still had Christin in his arms as he looked at Christopher. “What is that, my lord?”

  Christopher cocked an eyebrow in a gesture that looked a good deal like his daughter when she was annoyed. “Are you going to force her to give up serving The Marshal?” he asked. “I do not mind you doing it, or Peter doing it, but for my daughter… I would feel better if she did not. But, of course, the decision is yours.”

  Alexander chuckled. “Then you know?”

  “I know about The Ghost.”

  Alexander looked at Christin. “Tell your father what you told me.”

  Christin let go of Alexander and went to her father, her eyes glimmering with the mirth of the situation. So the man knew about her service to The Marshal? She knew he’d find out, eventually. At least he wasn’t screaming about it. But she wondered if he had when he’d first been told.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t going to have to worry about it any longer.

  “I told him that I would prefer to be Lady de Sherrington and let that be glory enough in my life rather than serving in The Marshal’s ranks,” she said. “Truly, Papa, that is the best life I can imagine. Serving The Marshal had its moments and I felt I was making a difference as few women can claim. And mayhap, someday, I shall do it again. But not now. It is time to retire The Ghost for the time being. I am content to be Lady de Sherrington.”

  Christopher could see the utter delight in her features as she spoke of becoming Alexander’s wife. He smiled at her, patting her hands. “Are you certain, Cissy?”

  “I have never been more certain in my life.”

  Christopher kissed her on the forehead, taking one last look at his daughter before he gave her off to another man. “Then it seems my decision is made,” he said. He looked at Alexander. “She is yours, Sherry. Pray treat her right or I will do to you what you did to FitzRoy.”

  Alexander chuckled, knowing it was the zeal of a father speaking but that there was also some truth to it. “No need to wor
ry, my lord,” he said. “Or may I call you Papa?”

  “You may not.”

  “Father?”

  “Nay.”

  By this time, Christin was far gone with giggles and Alexander was pretending as if he were very hurt. “Then what am I to call you? My lord seems terribly formal.”

  Christopher waved a dismissive hand at him. “We have time to decide.”

  “I much prefer Dada.”

  Everyone was laughing at that point. Christopher shook his head at the lot of them. “You are a ridiculous fool,” he said to Alexander. “But you are a fool my daughter clearly loves. As David said – welcome to the family, Sherry.”

  It seemed that Alexander had been waiting all his life to hear those words but he didn’t realize that until now. He would soon take a wife and with her came a great, noble family who loved each other deeply. His father-in-law was perhaps one of the greatest knights who had ever lived and there was tremendous honor in that.

  But no greater honor than in the bride herself.

  She was quite a woman.

  As Christopher and David headed out of the livery, going to see to their captive army and Sean’s delivery, the rest of the knights trickled out of the livery one at a time, each one personally congratulating Alexander and Christin until only Maxton was left. He approached Alexander, taking the man’s hand and smiling wearily into his face.

  “Marrying my wife was the best thing I have ever done, Sherry,” he said. “My advice to you is to let your wife rule your heart and your home. You will be a much happier man for it.”

  Alexander smiled in return, holding the man’s hand for a moment. He considered Maxton one of his dearest friends and since Maxton wasn’t good with sentiment, he knew the effort it had taken for the man to speak from his heart.