The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The beef was a bit too rare for Dustin and Christopher laughed as he ordered it back to the kitchens, cooked until it was black so as to not upset his wife. Conversation was light and pleasant, the room fragrant and warm, as they waited for Deborah and Gowen to return.

  And they waited. Christopher bade the men to go ahead and eat, irritated at his tardy sister. Everyone ate until they could hold no more, but Deborah and Gowen had yet to arrive and Christopher’s mood was darkening.

  “She is probably heartbroken,” Dustin said, scolding her husband softly. “You’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to you again.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her but remained silent, listening to Leeton relay an amusing story as he toyed with his goblet of wine.

  It became ridiculously late and it was obvious that Deborah and Gowen were not going to show. By this time, Christopher had had enough and slammed his emptied goblet loudly on the table as he rose.

  “Dustin, where does Gowen live?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened at his authoritative tone. She’d only heard him use it in crisis situations.

  “Why?” she wanted to know. “What are you going to do?”

  “Answer me,” he returned firmly.

  She stood up as well, eyeing him. “Christopher…..”

  “Dustin, I am not going to kill the lad,” he assured her. “I simply want to know where he lives so I can retrieve my sister.”

  She looked at him as if she did not believe him. “Then I shall go with you.”

  Christopher motioned his knights up. “Nay, you will not,” he said. “You will go to bed and wait for me.”

  “Nay, Chris,” she insisted. “If you fly into a rage, someone has to stop you. I forbid you to lay a hand on either of them.”

  He gave her a reproachful gaze as his armor was brought to him by two young pages. Other young boys had brought in the armor of the other knights and began to help them dress. It always amazed Dustin how well Christopher’s men could read his mind; he’d not uttered a word to call for his armor, yet here the young boys were, ready to assist him. The depth of fear and respect for the baron ran even to the lowliest of pages and she knew they hovered about, anticipating his every wish.

  “ ’Tis not my intention to lay a hand on them, merely to bring Deborah home,” he said, bending down as his hauberk was slipped on. “Now tell me where he lives.”

  She watched the pages work like busy, eager bees over her husband, removing his fine silk tunic and replacing it with the standard tunic and armor. She might as well tell him, for someone else easily would.

  “On the southern tip of the village, near the monastery,” she said quietly. “The cottage is small and rundown, and there is always a light in the window.”

  “Why is that?” he asked.

  “Because his father works through the night,” she replied. “He does work for the monks.”

  His eyes met hers for a moment as the little squire pulled Christopher’s gloves on. “Where do you think they are?”

  She was surprised he would ask, for he always knew everything. She could not remember him ever asking her a question like that.

  “I truly do not know,” she said. “But I do not think they will be at his cottage. Mayhap they are at the monastery.”

  The page handed him his helmet and he plopped it on his head, adjusting the hauberk beneath it. His knights were dressed and awaiting orders.

  “Go on to bed, sweetheart,” he said, accepting the sword that the squire was struggling to hold and moving around the table. “I shall return soon.”

  Dustin nodded, watching Christopher and his men exit the front door of the castle and hearing the shouts as the destriers were brought around.

  Indecision clutched at her, wanting to tell him of Deborah’s condition so he would not be too harsh with her, yet afraid to tell him for fear he would become enraged. She stood in the archway, watching them mount their mighty warhorses and seeing the bailey come alive with soldiers and torches. The massive gates began to unfold like a huge mouth, waiting to be fed.

  The more Dustin watched the commotion, the more apprehensive she became. She was sure that Deborah and Gowen had done something desperate and she was terrified that Christopher’s wrath would be unmerciful. He was issuing orders in a loud voice and frightening her with his intense manner, as if he were riding into a battle and not simply forming a search party. Her indecision peaked and she knew, for Deborah’s sake, that she had to tell him about his sister. It was not her right and she was aware of that, hoping that he would be merciful if he knew the reason why his sister and her lover were so determined to be together.

  “Chris!” She suddenly bolted from the doorway and scampered down the steps. “Chris!”

  Above all of the shouting, he heard her and reined his horse around. “Dustin, go back inside.”

  “I must speak with you!” she yelled.

  He shook his head as his horse danced beneath him. “Not now. Go back in the keep.”

  The gates were open wide and the destriers dug into the earth and launched themselves into a full gallop. Christopher’s horse swung around with a great snort, tearing after the others.

  Dustin stood there in the bailey, watching them race off with several men-at-arms. She kicked at the ground in frustration, wondering where indeed Deborah was and praying her husband would keep a level head. He had said he was simply riding out to retrieve Deborah, and she believed him. What concerned her is what he was going to do to Gowen.

  She returned to the castle but her heart was heavy and she found herself pacing the long corridors, lost in thought. She was genuinely terrified for Deborah and Gowen, for there was no telling how Christopher was going to react without Dustin to stop him. He was as unpredictable as she was, yet he was blessed with far more common sense. She only hoped he would utilize that gift and not do something rash.

  In her wandering, she passed by her mother’s room. The door was slightly ajar and she entered, her gaze sweeping the bedchamber. Everything was the same as it had been when she passed away nearly a year ago and Dustin sat on the bed, trying to draw strength from her mother’s memory. She went to her mother’s grave often and told her of events; in fact, her mother had been the first to know about the child she was expecting. But it seemed as if the Dustin Barringdon from a year ago was a distant dream, so completely removed from the life she now led that she wondered if the girl had ever even truly existed. Dustin certainly was not the same girl she had been a mere year ago.

  She was a baroness, married to the Defender of the Realm, and with all of the prestige and honor that went with that station. That alone would have been enough for most women, but not for Dustin. She had the additional pleasure of actually loving her husband, and receiving his love in return.

  Aye, she had grown up in this keep. She knew everything about it, as it was her home. She knew the village and the surrounding area for miles. She was so happy to be here, to have her husband home, and to await the birth of their son. But just as her spirits were lifting, they came crashing down again with one thought; Gowen knew the area, too, if he and Deborah were truly hiding, then Christopher would never find them.

  *

  Dustin had been asleep for a short while. She was startled awake by shouting coming from the bailey, and she rose stiffly to see what was happening. She knew before she even looked that her husband must be returning and she was not surprised to see nine destriers pouring through the open gates. But she was shocked to see a female figure seated in front of David, and another figure trussed up and thrown haphazardly over the back of another.

  Deborah and Gowen had been found.

  Dustin snatched a robe and wound it tightly about her, not even bothering to find her shoes before she was dashing downstairs. She should have been furious that Gowen was being treated like a common criminal but she found she was more frightened than anything. The stones were like ice beneath her feet as she charged to the front door and yanked it open.

&nb
sp; A chill wind greeted her, sending shivers up her spine. Yet the shivers were for another reason as she watched the horses come to a halt, their breath hanging heavy in the damp air. Torches and soldiers were everywhere and for a moment, she lost sight of Gowen as they removed him from Leeton’s destrier.

  Christopher dismounted his dancing steed and slugged the horse as it tried to bite at him, his action indicative of his mood. He raised his visor and snapped orders to his knights even as David lifted Deborah from his destrier and half pulled her toward the castle. Dustin could see, even from a distance, that Deborah was devastated.

  “Get your hands off her!” she yelled, racing down the steps, jerking Deborah from David’s grip. “You will not manhandle your sister like a common wench.”

  Deborah was sobbing softly and Dustin threw her arm around her protectively, glaring daggers at David. He met her gaze steadily, almost as hostilely, and turned back to the other knights. Christopher, several feet away, saw the exchange but had greater concerns on his mind at the moment. He yelled his brother to him.

  Dustin took Deborah into the castle and slammed the great door closed. She did not speak nor ask questions as she led Deborah up to her smaller bedchamber. Once inside, however, she sat her sister-in-law down and demanded answers.

  “What happened? Where were you?” Dustin asked sternly.

  Deborah was positively white. “Oh, Dustin,” she sobbed. “You must stop him from killing Gowen. He won’t even listen to me.”

  Dustin grabbed her wrists, forcing her to be still and calm down. “Answer me, Deborah. What happened?”

  Deborah faced her sister-in-law, knowing she was the only friend she had in the whole world. “We….we were married this afternoon. The priests at the monastery performed the ceremony and granted us sanctuary. Christopher violated that sanctuary.”

  Dustin’s heart sank and she dropped her head in sheer disbelief. “Dear Lord, no,” she whispered. “Tell me everything.”

  “ ’Twas horrible,” Deborah cried. “After the meeting this afternoon, Gowen and I were positive Christopher would refuse our marriage and we felt we had no other choice, so we asked the priests at the monastery if they would marry us. Gowen’s father paid for the ceremony. When Christopher came looking for me, the priests denied him entrance and told him why. Oh, Dustin, he went mad; Leeton and Edward tried to stop him but he tore the door down with his bare hands and searched every room in the church. One of the monks helped us escape through the kitchens, but David saw us and caught up to us. Then they tied Gowen up and brought us back.” She broke into heavy sobs. “Christopher has not said a word to me and I know he is going to kill Gowen.”

  Dustin was pale. She let go of her sister-in-law’s hands and stood up, her beautiful face set.

  “Nay, he will not,” she assured her. “I will go speak to him right now and find out what on earth possessed him to violate a church and handle you and Gowen as if you were outlaws. Did you tell him you were pregnant?”

  Deborah shook her head, wiping at her eyes, and Dustin touched her damp head. She softened.

  “Take off your shoes and relax,” she said quietly. “I shall send a servant up with warmed wine.”

  “I cannot relax,” Deborah insisted. “I must find out what is happening to my Gowen.”

  “I will find out,” Dustin said firmly. “I promise you that I will find out.”

  She left Deborah a sobbing heap by the fire and returned to her bedchamber. Dressing in a heavy woolen dress, an equally heavy woolen scarf around her head, and thick hose, she proceeded back out into the bailey.

  The soldiers were clearing the courtyard and the knights were going about their business. The first one she came across was Jeffrey.

  “Jeffrey,” she called. “Where is my husband?”

  He turned to her, his sharply angled face pinched from the cold. “In the abbey, my lady. But you should be inside where it is warm.”

  She ignored him, steering for the doors that led to the abbey. Jeffrey caught up to her and cut her off.

  “Let me take you inside, Lady Dustin,” he said in his thick accent. “The abbey is no place for you.”

  “Why did you let him do this?” she demanded harshly. “You have known Gowen almost as long as you have known me. How could you let Christopher treat him like this?”

  “I had no choice, you know that,” he said softly. “Gowen is a good boy, but he was very wrong in this case. Your husband will deal with him appropriately.”

  “How can you call killing him appropriate?” Dustin argued loudly. “He and Deborah are in love; what is so wrong about them wanting to be together?”

  “Who said he was going to kill him?” Jeffrey countered. “Punishment does not necessarily mean death, my lady. Now return to the castle; you should not be out here in the cold.”

  “Do not tell me what to do,” she snapped, pulling away from him. “I am going to find Christopher.”

  Jeffrey snatched her arm firmly. “That,” he said, “would not be wise. ’Tis best that you listen to me.”

  Dustin shoved at him to dislodge his grip, beating him on the shoulder when that didn’t work. Furious, she shoved at his face and ended up smacking him in the nose. Blood trickled but he didn’t let go. He began to drag her towards the castle.

  “Kessler!” came a voice so loud it echoed off the buildings. They stopped their struggles and turned to see Christopher standing in the doorway that led into the abbey. “Let her go. Dustin, come here.”

  She dashed over to him, angry and frustrated. “Where is Gowen?”

  “Go to bed,” he told her firmly, his face set and hard.

  She shook her head, “I will not. I must speak to you first.”

  “I have no time, Dustin,” he said sternly. “For once, do as you are told.”

  Dustin clenched her jaw. “I am not leaving until you let me speak with you.”

  His jaw ticked and his blue eyes were dark and angry on her. “Dustin, do as you are told or God help me, I will spank you, child or no child.”

  Tears, Dustin thought. Tears always soften the rock of a man. Her eyes glistened with tears and she walked away from him, sobbing loudly but purely for effect. She continued to walk, waiting for him to stop her, and was enraged when he did not. Frustrated that her ploy hadn’t worked, she ran into the castle and wound her way back to the rear entrance to the abbey. There was more than one way to gain her end.

  Quiet as a mouse, she slipped in through the rear door, her eyes adjusting to the dark and cool interior. She heard voices in the distance and she took the stairs, her eyes wide and alert to her surroundings. The abbey had two levels, the lower level used for prisoners, and she assumed they had taken Gowen there. There was only one way in and out, which concerned her, but she would have to try. She had to see him, to protect him.

  Suddenly there was a massive body in front of her. “No, you don’t, you little vixen,” Christopher said sharply. “Back up the stairs. Now.”

  He yelled and she jumped, but she did not turn tail as ordered. Instead, she pressed herself flush against the wall as he mounted the stairs and stood over her in a great, huffing mass of armor and flesh.

  “Wife, I have no time for this foolishness,” he said severely. “If I have to take you back to our chamber, I shall tie you to the bed until I return, I swear it.”

  The tears were real this time. “But I have to talk to you.” Her lips were trembling. “Please, Chris. Just for a moment.”

  His features did not soften, but he did not reply right away. He continued to gaze at her for a moment. “What, then?”

  She sniffed and cleared her throat. “Deborah told me what happened. What are you planning on doing with her husband?”

  His brow rippled at the mention of his sister’s husband. “First and foremost, I have sent for a priest to annul the marriage,” he told her. “After that, I have yet to decide what to do with Master Olmquist.”

  Dustin forced her fear down. She reached out a
nd grasped her husband, wanting to touch him so he would know her sincerity.

  “Please do not annul the marriage,” she begged softly. “They love each other so. They only did this because you were so cold this afternoon and they feared you would deny them.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What they did was disobedient and wrong, Dustin,” his voice was so low he was growling. “Whether or not they love each other is not the issue but the fact is that I cannot allow such blatant insubordination. ’Twas my decision to make; not theirs.”

  Dustin shook her head. “The decision has already been made,” she sighed, suddenly very tired. He read her fatigue and helped her to sit on the stairs. She gazed up at him. “Why did you violate the monastery?”

  He raised an eyebrow as he sat on the stair below her. “Because they had no legal or moral grounds to grant them sanctuary.”

  “What?” she asked, confused and outraged. “They had every moral and legal right, Chris.”

  He shook his head. “Deborah and Gowen were not fleeing death, nor great harm, nor famine, nor were they in any imminent danger of being separated or imprisoned. They requested sanctuary on purely groundless reasons.”

  “Since when is love a groundless reason?” Dustin said quietly. “They did what they did because they were afraid of you. And because Deborah is pregnant.”

  His gaze lifted, meeting her wide gray eyes. She held her breath, knowing the next few moments would determine his reaction, waiting and wondering what her husband was going to do.

  “She is?” he asked. He pulled off his helmet and it went sailing, angrily, to the bottom of the stairs. A mailed hand raked through his damp hair. “Christ in Heaven, I cannot believe my ears. Dustin, she’s pregnant?”

  “Aye,” Dustin reached out and touched his face, hoping to soothe him. “As am I. She and Gowen are madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with each other. Now tell me, husband, if the situation were reversed and if it were you and I acting out the roles, would you have stopped at nothing to make me your own? She carries his child, Chris. Surely you can appreciate that.”