As Kaspian and Owain watched and waited, Nicholas finally charged through the open gates astride his dappled horse, looking for all the world like a knight from tales of old. Laden with weapons, he showed little of the fatigue that his men were displaying. He spied Kaspian immediately and went to him, the charger kicking up mud and spraying both Kaspian and Owain.
“Kaspian!” Nicholas exclaimed. “Are you well, man?”
Kaspian pretended not to notice Owain wiping mud from his face. “Well enough,” he said. “We were informed that Hawarden was saved.”
“It was,” Nicholas replied. “We were informed that Lavister fell.”
“It did,” Kaspian replied without missing a beat. “What is the army’s status?”
Nicholas flipped up his visor and dismounted his weary beast. “We lost twenty-two men, including Ewan.”
Kaspian sighed. “God’s Bones,” he groaned. “How did it happen?”
That answer was simple, although Kaspian would never know the truth. Ewan had been cut down when he and Nicholas had been fighting side by side and Nicholas had drawn back to let Ewan suffer the brunt of the attack. Another knight from Lavister down….
“One moment he was mounted, the next he was down with an arrow through his neck,” Nicholas replied emotionlessly. “He suffered more than a day before finally succumbing.”
Kaspian was sickened to hear that. “How’s Reece?”
“Devastated, but functional.” Nicholas removed his helm and peeled back his mail hood, his blonde hair damp and dirty. “What happened to Lavister?”
Kaspian was grim. “It was a ruse, as we suspected. They overcame us with over a thousand men, as near as I can guess. We lost a total over two hundred men, either to death or desertion. It is hard to know. I took a head count when we arrived here and out of the six hundred I had, I only have three hundred and ninety-eight. Therefore, it is my intention that we ride for Shrewsbury and seek reinforcements from the garrison immediately. I want my fortress back.”
Nicholas nodded. “As soon as I rest my horse and have something to eat, we can leave.” Ever the diplomat, he turned to Lord de Kirk. “My lord, I am Sir Nicholas de Dalyn. I know that St. Hèver has thanked you for your generosity in allowing Lavister refuge, but may I add my personal thanks for your graciousness as well. We are forever in your debt.”
Lord de Kirk studied the knight with his intense black eyes. “You are de Dalyn?”
Nicholas had no idea that the man had heard terrible things about him from Lady Hawys. He smiled as if to find humor that perhaps his mighty reputation had preceded him. “Aye, my lord, at your service.”
De Kirk didn’t reply, but he cast Kaspian a long look before turning away. Nicholas was perceptive enough to understand that de Kirk wanted nothing more to do with him and looked at Kaspian curiously. Kaspian had to tell him something.
“Much has happened since you’ve been at Hawarden,” he said. “To begin with, Madelayne and I have been married and I will take this opportunity to make myself very, very clear to you. She is my wife now, and my property, and if I find you so much as looking in her direction without my permission, you’ll rue the day you were born. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Nicholas?”
Nicholas was his usual cool self. “Of course, Kaspian. You needn’t say as much. I would never….”
Kaspian held up a sharp hand. “Lies do not become you. Do not forget that I have known you a long time, Nicholas.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I know what you are capable of.”
Nicholas didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he smiled humorlessly. “If I didn’t know you better, I might have been insulted by that remark. As it is, I will ask you to clarify it.”
“I shall do better than that,” Kaspian said. “I will tell you that Lady Mavia, pregnant with your child, jumped to her death three days ago. Thomas is in ruins. Shall I continue?”
Nicholas, ever cool, struggled not to react. “I am truly sorry to hear that,” he said. “But if you think I had something to do with….”
“Thomas told us that he found you in a compromised position with Mavia.” When Nicholas continued to look at him, stone-faced, Kaspian took a step toward him, his nose an inch from the man’s face. “Therefore, I will tell you again. You are a fine knight, Nicholas, and I am grateful for your assistance with Lavister. But you’ve disrupted the lives of my people since you’ve been with us. If I find you anywhere near my wife, I will kill you without hesitation. Is this in any way indistinct?”
Nicholas would not show his intimidation, but their relationship somehow changed at that point. It grew darker, a shadow cast between them. Everything was spelled out clearly between them now so there would be no mistake. A mistake could be deadly.
“I understand perfectly, Kaspian,” Nicholas said quietly. “You needn’t worry in the least.”
Above them, the rain poured down and the thunder rolled as if to emphasize the storm now brewing between them. They stared at each other a moment longer before Kaspian finally turned away. But he had to look into Nicholas’ eyes long enough to emphasize how serious he was. This was no game he was playing. He wasn’t sure if Nicholas understood that or not.
It was a situation about to go from bad to worse. Through the rain, Kaspian caught a glimpse of something swift and metal-clad. Behind him, Nicholas suddenly went down into the mud and Kaspian turned to see Thomas hanging over the supine knight, his broadsword in his hand and a look of murder in his eye.
“Get up!” Thomas bellowed at Nicholas. “Stand up and take your punishment, you bastard!”
Kaspian froze, his gaze moving between Nicholas, who was rapidly bounding to his feet, and Thomas’ twisted face. Whatever happened, he could not intervene. It was a matter of honor for Thomas, and a matter of life and death for Nicholas. They would have to settle their own differences and one of them would have to lose. He found himself hoping it wasn’t Thomas.
The men in the ward rapidly caught on that a battle was about to take place, perhaps greater than those fought at Lavister and Hawarden. They fell back into a large circle, surrounding the two combatants who were now circling each other like a pair of rabid dogs. The last of Lavister’s army entered the bailey to a spectacle and men began vying for prime positions. Even Dolwyd, one of the last to enter with his old surgeon’s cart, found a place by which to watch the ensuing battle. He, too, had known this moment would be coming. Having seen how Nicholas had taken to Lady Mavia the day he arrived at Lavister, the old physic knew it was only a matter of time.
He found himself wishing that Thomas would be the victor, too.
Lord de Kirk resumed his position next to Kaspian, evaluating the situation before them. “De Dalyn has twenty pounds and several inches on Allington-More,” he commented.
Kaspian watched the two of them carefully as they continued to circle one another, each one waiting for the other to throw the first strike. “Thomas is as fast as a cat, but Nicholas has a good deal of power,” he said. “Both of them are exhausted, however; Nicholas from his march and Thomas from his drinking. I can’t say either has the advantage right now.”
“Who will win?”
“I cannot predict that.”
“But you are going to allow them to fight?”
“I must, my lord.”
De Kirk nodded in understanding, his eyes on Thomas. “I’d do the same to any man who bedded my wife.”
Their words were cut off by Thomas casting the first blow. Nicholas responded strongly, charging him with several heavy thrusts and throwing him off balance. When Thomas stumbled, Nicholas cut into his left arm in a gap between the mail and his glove, drawing a flow of bright red blood. Thomas didn’t flinch, however; he came back strongly, undercutting Nicholas with a series of swift swings that sent the knight back-stepping several feet. The last thrust hit Nicholas on the thigh, grating against the mail.
Men were clamoring to see the fight. They lined the ward and t
he battlements above. To see two senior knights battle to the death was an exciting event. Thomas charged Nicholas again and again, viciously swinging his sword in controlled bursts, making contact with Nicholas’ weapon. Had it not been raining, sparks would have undoubtedly flown.
Men were placing wagers as the knights continued to battle. It was apparent that Thomas was fighting with his emotions, whereas Nicholas was not. Thomas began cursing Nicholas as he landed blow after blow, only to be firmly and silently answered by Nicholas’ return thrusts. At one point, Thomas fell and then tripped Nicholas in his struggle to get up. His broadsword caught the blonde knight on the back of the neck and blood seeped beneath the mail. He also clipped him on the ear, cutting the tip of it. Blood streamed down the side of Nicholas’ head and served to throw a measure of anger into his swing. Fists, as well as the swords, were now flying.
They were beating each other to death now, throwing punches when they could get close enough. The fight continued for some time without anyone gaining ground. With the last series of thrusts and parries, both knights stumbled to their knees, too exhausted to do any more fighting. Thomas actually seemed to be crying, too much exhaustion and alcohol rendering him unable to kill for his wife’s honor. Nicholas was unable to stand any longer. Kaspian stood there longer than he should have, waiting to see if either one of them would make a final attempt. Finally sensing a stalemate, he stepped forward and stood between the two.
“I declare this bout over,” he said softly but firmly. “Since there is no decisive victor, I will call a draw and command that there be no more battles between either of you.”
Thomas sat on his arse, in the rain, and wept. He was so very discouraged. Nicholas, exhausted to the point of collapse, somehow made it to his feet and staggered away. With a glance around the ward that sent the men scattering, Kaspian looked down at Thomas.
“Would you allow me to help you to stand?” he asked quietly.
Thomas shook his head. Collecting himself, he pushed himself up on his sword. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” he muttered. “De Dalyn will be dead by dawn.”
Kaspian’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Dolwyd wandered up, having heard Thomas’ words. He looked at Kaspian with concern, but Kaspian was focused on the knight. Thomas had stopped crying, now snorting ironically.
“My blade was bathed in poison,” he said. “The cuts I gave him should be enough to kill him. You see, I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to mortally wound him. So I had to do it another way.”
Kaspian tried not to appear shocked. “Where did you come by this poison?”
“Mavia had it. I think she meant to kill me with it. So I turned it on her lover instead.”
Kaspian was outraged now. “You are mad. Where would she have gotten this poison?”
Thomas shrugged. “The castle physic, a serving wench, who is to say? But I found it in our chamber and used it on de Dalyn.”
Kaspian could hardly believe his ears. He raked his fingers through his wet hair, a gesture of disbelief and agitation. When he spoke, it was to the physic. “The rain probably washed it away,” he said. “I doubt much was left on the sword by the time Thomas cut him.”
Dolwyd was grim. “We’ll know soon enough.”
The old man turned away, off to find de Dalyn and see just how deeply the poison had offended him. Kaspian looked back to his knight, disgust in his tone. “Thomas, when did you become so dishonorable?”
“When de Dalyn beds your wife, see if you do not become the same way.”
Kaspian sighed faintly. “It is not as if you loved the woman,” he muttered so only Thomas could hear. “I realize it is a matter of honor to avenge Mavia, but using poison on your sword….”
He couldn’t finish. Thomas simply looked at him, absolutely no regret in his expression. “Love has nothing to do with it,” he said quietly. “Nicholas humiliated me. It is my own honor I’m avenging, not my wife’s. She clearly had none.”
It was a brutal thing to say and Kaspian didn’t reply to it. He was still lingering on Thomas’ previous statement of de Dalyn bedding Madelayne. Kaspian had already told Nicholas that he would kill him if he came near Madelayne. And not too long ago, he had wanted to kill the man for the bathing request. There was no telling what would happen the next time Nicholas made a play for Madelayne, if there indeed was one.
Turning on his heel, he made haste for the keep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next day
“I cannot put off Shrewsbury any longer,” Kaspian said. “I should have gone days ago. The longer Lavister stays in the hands of the Welsh, the harder she will be to regain.”
It was mid-morning on a blustery, sunny day. In yet another borrowed gown from Lady Hawys, Madelayne sat by the window of their bower with a half-finished dress in her hand, for Lady Hawys had given her the material to sew a garment of her own. It had been a pleasant morning until Kaspian started talking of Shrewsbury. Now, her stomach twisted in knots and she could no longer work on the colorful bit of cloth.
“I know,” she murmured. “When will you leave?”
“This afternoon, most likely. I am taking Thomas and Reece with me.”
“Can I come too?”
“Nay, dearest. I told you I would be happier if you stayed here.”
“Then why aren’t you taking Nicholas if you are leaving me here?”
Madelayne knew about the fight the previous evening. But she did not know that Thomas had poisoned his sword. True to his prediction, Nicholas had become sick and sicker still as the night progressed. Dolwyd tended him, assuring Kaspian that the knight was ill enough that he could do no damage until he returned from Shrewsbury.
“He’s exhausted and ill,” he said without elaborating. “I do not expect that you will see or hear from him the entire time I am gone.”
“How long do you expect to be gone?”
He looked at her a moment. Then, crouching beside her chair, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I would suspect that we will ride directly from Shrewsbury to Lavister.”
She tried not to look too upset. “But you’ll have to come back for the army.”
He shook his head. “I’ll send word to have them sent on to Lavister. We’ll merge the Shrewsbury and Lavister forces and lay siege. There’s truly no telling how long this will take.”
No matter how badly she wanted to make a fuss, she would not. She had selfishly had him to herself for several days now while he had neglected his duties. Now, he needed to focus on his responsibilities to Edward. Quietly, she set her sewing aside and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. He stood up, lifting her, holding her close against him. Neither one of them said a word for some time, relishing the feel of each other for the times to come when there would be no comfort, no warmth.
“You will return to me,” she whispered.
“On my honor as a knight, I swear it.”
“I do not want to be without you, Kaspian, not for a minute, not for a day. But I know you must do as you must.”
He was silent a moment. “For the first time in my life, I find that my attention is not where is should be. When I should be determined to regain my fortress, I’m content to stay in another man’s castle and languish away the hours with you. I cannot go a minute without thinking of you, as if you consume my entire being. I do not want the responsibility any longer of manning a border garrison for the king. I simply want to be your husband and live my life by your side. It’s mad, truly.”
She pulled her face from the crook of his neck to look at him. “Not as mad as me wanting to tag along with you everywhere you go, into battle or otherwise. I know that I cannot go with you to Shrewsbury, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to. It’s not a matter of you going anywhere without me; ’tis a matter of me being without you. Does that make any sense?”
He smiled at her, drinking in her beautiful face, thinking at that moment that he was the most fort
unate man on the face of the earth. “Madelayne,” he said slowly, “I think we are in love with each other.”
“You think? Kaspian, I know.”
He couldn’t think of any response other than to kiss her. He’d never been so happy and it was difficult to know how to manage it. Lavister was gone, his knights were in turmoil, but he wasn’t the least bit guilty that he felt so elated. Nothing else seemed quite as important. He whirled Madelayne around and around until she screamed, listening to her delighted giggles. When he finally set her down, she was blushing furiously.
“Thank you, Madelayne,” he said softly.
“For what?”
He shrugged his shoulders, not at all sure how to put anything into words. He had never been any good at verbalizing his emotions. “For marrying me,” he said simply.
They ate the nooning meal in the privacy of their room, enjoying quiet conversation of what their life would be like once they return to Lavister. The first thing Kaspian was determined to do was rid themselves of Nicholas, confident he was feeling well enough to lead his troops once again. He had always had faith in the man, as a comrade, but Nicholas’ introduction to Lavister made Kaspian realize that the man’s negative attributes outweighed any benefits he might bring. Nicholas had only brought chaos with him from the moment he set foot inside Lavister’s gatehouse and Kaspian would be relieved to be rid of him. He didn’t relay his ideas to Madelayne, however; she was babbling on about something else and he did not want to dampen her mood.
“Where are your thoughts, husband?”
Madelayne’s voice was soft and sweet, and Kaspian realized that he had been daydreaming of vanquishing Nicholas so much so that he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He smiled at her sheepishly, reaching out and pulling her from her chair onto his lap. She slid onto his massive thighs easily, curling up like a cat.
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