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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The crowd cheered again when their champion collected his prize and was helped by the field, followed by his wife. David was with the group, passing a look into the lists as if to make sure Emilie was still there. To make sure she was safe with his own eyes. She was, on both accounts, and she waved at him discreetly. He smiled in return before he vanished from view, surrounding by de Lohr men.

  But that sweet, lingering smile was enough to fill Emilie full with joy. He may have been out of her sight at this point but he clearly wasn’t gone from her mind. She knew he would return at some point but until then, she had a great longing to see him again. She was concerned, however, that the unscrupulous knight who had killed Brentford and injured the elder de Lohr brother was still in the competition. If David remained in the competition as well, at some point, he would be facing the man. Emilie didn’t like that thought at all. What happened to David’s brother could very easily happen to him and she was greatly distressed at the thought. She didn’t want to see him on the ground in agony as his brother had been.

  Mulling over those torturous thoughts, Emilie was surprised to see her father suddenly appear. Clad in mail and the green and black colors of Canterbury, the man had come in from the rear of the lists, holding a bloodied kerchief to his nose as he sat down next to his daughters. Emilie’s eyes widened at the sight of her father’s bloody nose.

  “What happened, Papa?” she demanded. “How did you hurt yourself?”

  Lyle chuckled weakly. “Lady de Lohr and I came to know one another,” he said, shaking his head when both daughters began to press him. “It does not matter what happened, truly. I received Lillibet’s message – so she took Elise back to the apartments, did she? I am not surprised. This joust has been particularly bloody. There is very bad blood here on this day between Richard’s supporters and John’s forces. It makes me very curious to see what the mass competition will look like.”

  Emilie’s brow furrowed. “Have you seen many of these mass competitions, Papa?” she asked. “What are we to expect?”

  Lyle took the kerchief away from his nose, his gaze moving out over the field. “There will be two teams,” he said. “Men will fight in combat against each other and they are allowed to do most anything except kill each other. They are permitted to disable and beat each other to a pulp, and once a man is down, he must stay down. He is unable to re-enter the battle. Men can also capture each other and demand ransom. It is quite chaotic, a melee of sorts, but it is great fun. I have always enjoyed it. Why, I was in one of these mass competition years ago that went on for two days. It will not stop until there is a decided victor.”

  Emilie and Natalie were listening intently. “So the two sides simply fight it out to the last man standing?” Emilie asked. “Will you be fighting, Papa?”

  “I will indeed.”

  “And Brick?”

  “He will fight by my side.”

  Emilie tried not to show too much distress. “But…,” she began, stopped to glance at Nathalie, who was equally concerned, and started again. “But you are older than most of the men who are fighting, Papa. We do not want to see you hurt. Mayhap you should reconsider.”

  Lyle frowned at his daughter. “Why would I reconsider?” he asked, incensed. “Everything will be fine. I will capture a knight or two myself and ransom them. We will return home richer than when we left.”

  He sounded quite confident and neither girl was sure what to say to that. No one wanted to insult their father by suggesting he was too old to fight in the mass competition that was coming, but the truth was that they were worried for him.

  “Please do not, Papa,” Nathalie said, her young face serious. “So many terrible things have happened today. Men have been badly injured or have died. We do not wish to see you hurt.”

  Secretly, Lyle had been thinking the same thing. Men had been hurt and killed on this day, especially with Prince John and his hired band of mercenaries playing rough and dirty against honorable knights. With his wife gone, Lyle was the sole parent for his daughters. Were he to become injured, or worse, it could be very bad for them without adult guidance other than Lillibet. Although he trusted the woman, his girls were strong willed and she sometimes bowed to their wishes whether or not they were sound. And Emilie… sweet, responsible Emilie would become the Canterbury heiress, a valuable woman, indeed.

  But Lyle didn’t want to think negative thoughts like that. He was excited for the coming mass competition, to prove his mastery one more time. It was true that he was older than most of the competitors – or even all of them – but that didn’t mean he couldn’t compete on the same ground with them. He was a great knight. It would be good to prove himself one more time.

  And that meant not listening to his daughters and their fears. Patting Emilie on the cheek, he stood up and quickly moved away from them.

  “I appreciate your concern, ladies, but rest assured that I will not be injured,” he said. “I am on de Lohr’s team and we will triumph. Will you cheer for me?”

  Both Emilie and Nathalie nodded, although there was still distress in their expressions. “We will, Papa,” Emilie said with resignation. “Do be careful.”

  Lyle nodded as he turned and headed for the steps that led to the field level. “Do not leave the lists except with an escort,” he told them. “Emilie, do you have coinage with you in case you or your sister are hungry?”

  Emilie shook her head. “I do not, Papa.”

  Lyle pulled tight his gloves. “I will make sure your escort has money,” he said. “If you wish to eat, now is the time, for you will not want to leave once the mass competition starts.”

  The girls simply nodded, watching him pass money to the escort before leaving the lists and disappearing down by the field. When he faded from view, Nathalie turned to Emilie.

  “Should we find something to eat, then?” she asked. “I am a little hungry.”

  Emilie shrugged; there was nothing to see on the field at the moment and with David gone, she had lost some interest in all of the activity. Therefore, it would be a good time to find food before the games resumed. Standing up, she gathered her skirts and made her way out of the seating area.

  “We saw vendors earlier,” she said to her sister. “I did not see what they were selling but I am sure we can find something to eat.”

  Nathalie was right behind her sister, eager to see some of the sights, even if those sights were only food vendors. But still, she kept looking behind her, at the field, for signs of Brickley.

  “I saw a man who was selling some kind of cream pie,” she said. “He was near the lists when we disembarked the wagon. Where do you think Brick is right now? Do you think he will wish to eat with us?”

  Emilie shook her head. “I am sure he is very busy right now, preparing for the mass competition,” she said. “We shall see him later.”

  Disappointed, Nathalie followed her sister out into the avenue beyond with the three Hampton soldiers who comprised the escort.

  The timing was perfect and unfortunate, for their sakes.

  Their departure did not go unnoticed. Ralph Fitz Walter, who was still in the royal box, saw them leave. In fact, he had been watching them for quite some time. After Christopher de Lohr’s departure, Ralph’s focus had turned to the lovely young woman David de Lohr seemed to favor, a young lady who was apparently the daughter of the Earl of Canterbury because Ralph saw the earl join the young woman and he saw, clearly, when the earl had departed. Now, David’s lady and another young woman were leaving the lists with only a few soldiers as escort.

  An idea came to Ralph at that moment.

  With Christopher de Lohr now out of the games, that left David to maintain the family honor. Christopher was a big, muscular knight, bigger than most men, but David, although shorter than his brother and of lesser weight, was pound for pound the best man in the entire tournament. No one moved as fast as David de Lohr did, or fought with such skill. The man was nearly unbeatable in hand to hand combat, which was w
hat they were facing that afternoon in the mass competition. Ralph wasn’t ready yet to see his mercenaries fall to David de Lohr. It would be an extreme waste of money, something Ralph wasn’t ready to accept.

  Therefore, he had to have a plan.

  Two of Richard’s most powerful supporters had been eliminated in this competition already. Brentford le Bec had been killed and Christopher de Lohr had nearly been killed. Others had fallen, too, but no one of the same significance that Christopher de Lohr had. David de Lohr was the only other man at the tournament with the same kind of stature, so it was clearly time to play dirty when it came to David. He knew he couldn’t force the man out of the competition and he’d already tried, without success, to disable him, so Ralph Fitz Walter, John Lackland’s most influential advisor, had something more in mind for David.

  Something very distracting.

  It started with the lovely woman who had given David her favor.

  With a few whispered words to Prince John, Ralph slipped out after Emilie and Natalie as the girls went in search of food. He took ten soldiers with him, men loyal to the prince, and men who were unscrupulous without reason.

  It was time for Ralph to make his move.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Christopher ended up with several broken ribs and a sore shoulder, which was extremely fortunate considering how heavily he had hit and how the majority of the horse’s weight had come down on him. The good news was that he was declared the winner of the joust because he had unseated Dennis before Dennis had killed Christopher’s horse, and once Christopher managed to get himself on his feet, he was awarded his prize and quickly taken away.

  David had accompanied his brother from the field back to his apartments at Windsor so that the physic, a burly man with wild red hair known as Burwell, could tend the man’s ribs. Burwell tended all of the king’s troops so he was well-trusted, a crass but knowledgeable man. It took them some time to get Christopher back to the castle and into the apartments so his injuries could be treated.

  When the group entered the lavish, two-room apartment, practically carrying Christopher between them, they were met by Lady de Lohr’s maids, two dogs, and a small monkey, all pets of Lady de Lohr. But the group moved past the menagerie for the most part, ushering Christopher, David, Leeton, and Burwell into the bedchamber, dark with its oilcloths and wine-colored brocaded furnishings. As Christopher sat upon a sturdy chair, David and Leeton held on to man while Burwell tightly wrapped his ribs. Dustin, kept out of the chamber so she would not hear her husband’s groans of agony, paced in the sitting room beyond with Marcus Burton, Edward de Wolfe, and Thomas Dudley for company.

  It was an excruciating wait.

  Wrapping a man’s ribs was never an easy thing and it was especially painful for Christopher. Burwell presumed he had at least five broken, possibly more, so the man was in considerable pain by the time the physic had finished. Once the bindings were in place, tight and firm, Christopher was permitted to lay back on the big bed, pale and sweating, as Burwell fumbled around in his medicament bag.

  “You must stay abed for a few days, baron,” the gruff physic said. “Moving around too much will see those ribs pop out and you will puncture a lung. Do I make myself clear?”

  Christopher exhaled slowly, feeling the pain as he did so. “Aye.”

  Burwell eyed the man. “I know you were recently married, but I will stress to you that you must not partake in marital activity, at least not for a week or two.”

  Christopher turned his head on the pillow to look at the man. “I am not exactly sure what you think I do when I partake of marital activity, but it is not as wild or strenuous as you seem to think it is,” he said, watching David fight off laughter. “I told you I would stay in bed and I will.”

  The physic frowned. “Stay in bed and rest.”

  “I heard you the first time,” Christopher said, becoming irritated. “What can you give me for the pain?”

  Burwell dug around in his leather satchel and pulled forth a pouch. He peered in to it before handing it over to David. “Two spoonfuls of this in wine,” he said. “It will ease the ache but it will also make you sleep. Take it now before I leave.”

  As the physic took another look at his handiwork on the wrappings, David put some powder into a cup of wine, swirled it, and handed it to his brother, who drank the entire thing. He smacked his lips, making a face at the bitterness of the brew. As Burwell took his medicament satchel to a nearby table and pulled out a few things to mix, more medicines for Christopher’s injuries, David took the empty cup from his brother and set it back where he’d found it.

  “What now?” David asked softly. “What would you have me do, Chris? The mass competition is next. Dennis will be my target.”

  Christopher gazed up at his younger brother; they were closer than most brothers, friends as well as siblings, warriors together. They had fought and killed for each other and there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for one another. Christopher knew they’d seen some rough times since he’d married his wife, not even two short months ago now, and it was the first time in their lives that he and David had ever been at odds. But that didn’t diminish the love and respect they had for each other. The entire world could collapse around them and still, it would be Christopher and David, brothers until the end. Christopher reached out and grasped his brother’s arm.

  “And you will be his,” he said softly. “Dennis killed Brentford and has tried to kill me. You will be his next target and he will be expecting your wrath, so you must be extremely careful in approaching him, David. He knows you will be out to kill him and he will try to kill you first.”

  David sighed faintly. “You know,” he said casually, “I have come to believe that Dennis was part of the group that attacked your wife last night. I never saw him, for it was dark in the corridor when the attack occurred, but I have a feeling he was there. He has been trying to get to all of us – Dustin and you, and I fully expect him to come after me. I am prepared.”

  Christopher knew that; he believed him. David was an exceptionally intelligent warrior and he knew that the man would be one step ahead of Dennis. But that did not diminish the danger.

  “I know,” he said. “But you must understand that Dennis has failed to kill me, which means he will be trying very hard to kill you. He will not want to fail twice and especially not in John’s eyes. You must be doubly on your guard, David. Make sure you are not caught alone in this mass competition. Make sure someone is always at your back because if you are not covered, Dennis will find that weakness. He will exploit it. And I will not lose you, do you hear? I could not bear it.”

  David smiled. “You grow sentimental and foolish in your old age.”

  Christopher grinned, big white teeth set within his trim blond beard. “Not foolish but practical,” he said. “I would have to break in another knight and I have no patience for that.”

  David laughed softly. “It is good to know that I do not mean anything more than that to you.”

  Christopher squeezed his arm and let him go, sighing with pain and exhaustion. “Nay, you do not,” he said. “Nonetheless, I will beg you to be wary of de la Londe. With Marcus and I out of the competition, you must make sure to take Leeton, Edward, and Dud with you and keep them close. Will you do this?”

  David cocked an eyebrow. “I am not a weakling who needs protection,” he pointed out. “Certainly I will stay close to Leeton and Edward and Dud, but you seem to forget one thing, brother – it is not Dennis who will be hunting me. It is I who will be hunting him.”

  Christopher’s gaze was steady on his brother. “Do as you must,” he said quietly. “But take care. I would rather have my brother living than Dennis dead.”

  “Not to worry.”

  There wasn’t much more to be said between them. The stakes were higher than they’d ever been and David was prepared, but it was difficult not to let his sense of vengeance and anger overwhelm him. The price this day had been far too high and no
w he was the last man standing, the last de Lohr able to exact revenge against their enemies.

  He intended to come out on top.

  Burwell opened the chamber door to allow Lady de Lohr to come in, which she did in a rush of blond hair and silk. David, having his conversation with his brother was cut short, quit the chamber. He and Leeton walked out as Christopher’s wife came in, and Leeton closed the chamber door behind them as Burwell could be heard lecturing Dustin on the care of her injured husband.

  Out in the common room, de Lohr knights were sitting about, looking anxiously at David for word on his brother. David held up a hand as if to calm their fears.

  “He has at least five cracked ribs and a damage shoulder,” he said. “But he will recover.”

  Marcus Burton, seated in a chair near David, sighed heavily. “Great thanks to God,” he muttered. “I had my doubts.”

  David eyed Marcus. The tension was there between them even now, as there had been for weeks now. It seemed like forever.

  In the Holy Land, David and Christopher and Marcus had been inseparable. They had spent their days and nights together, fighting for Christendom and for each other. They were brothers, the three of them, but the truth was that only two of them were really blood brothers. That wasn’t so evident as it was when Lady Dustin was introduced. Now, David couldn’t seem to remember when he hadn’t been suspicious of Marcus and his motives. Even if Christopher was blind to the man and his lust for Dustin, David wasn’t, which made Marcus’ thanks for Christopher’s safety sound hollow and trite.

  It was insincere.

  Big, muscular, and talented Marcus. He was excruciatingly handsome with his black hair and cobalt blue eyes, and he was as fine a knight as had ever lived. A man with an unparalleled reputation who was spoiled and arrogant, and used to getting what he wanted. What he had wanted for several weeks now was Dustin. He was evidently willing to see his relationship with the de Lohr brothers go to waste for it, and through it all, Christopher continued to trust him. Perhaps he was blind or perhaps he didn’t want to think the worst of his best friend, but for whatever the reason, David had enough suspicion for both of them.