Page 16 of Insurrection (Guard of Six #2)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

K ent made it back to The Narth in record time. He tore through the gatehouse, through the bailey, and into the keep. The great room was empty, but the small chamber off the entry was not.

Jareth was there.

“He’s here!” Kent said as he burst in. “Ivor is in the village!”

Jareth had been hunched over a Welsh dispatch, trying to decipher the writing, but Kent’s shouting revelation had him on his feet.

“Did you hear rumor or did you see him?” he asked.

Kent was winded from having run so fast, so far. “I saw him,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “I spoke to him. He did not recognize me.”

Jareth could see that the encounter had Kent rattled. “When did you last see the man?” he asked. “How old were you?”

Kent took a deep breath, trying to still his excitement because that wasn’t usual with him. He was, on the whole, quite unflappable.

But the sight of Ivor had him going.

“I’d seen six summers,” he said. “We were very young. Truth be told, if someone hadn’t introduced us, I would not have known him on sight.”

“I would have,” Treyton said, pushing in through the open door. “I’d know that bastard anywhere. Did you see him?”

Kent turned to Treyton and Britt, just entering the keep. “Aye,” he said. “I saw him in the apothecary shop. You did not see him enter?”

Treyton shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “We did not see anyone enter but you, but we also didn’t have a good vantage point of the rear of the establishment.”

“Then he must have come in that way,” Kent said. “However he entered, he was in the shop.”

“Then we capture him,” Treyton said firmly. “We swarm the apothecary’s shop and we take him alive. I will punish him in place of the men he refused to turn over to me.”

Kent could see how distressed Treyton was. The man finally had justice for his sister within his grasp and wanted to take it with both hands.

Take Ivor with both hands.

Truthfully, Kent wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Perhaps there was part of him that hoped Ivor had been smart enough to stay in his mountain fortress, away from the English who wanted his hide, but that was not to be. His return had put him in legitimate danger because de Russe was here for vengeance for his sister and emotions were feeding his decisions and opinions.

He wanted what he’d come for.

But Kent wasn’t so sure.

“We must find Torran,” he said after a moment. “This is a delicate situation, Treyton. You’ll have to let someone without the emotional investment you have make this decision.”

Treyton’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t have to.

His expression said it all.

Treyton had just spent the past couple of hours watching the village center of Penderyn and, more specifically, watching the apothecary shop where Kent was conducting business. His task had been to watch the comings and goings and listen to conversations if he could, but it had been late enough that there were no comings, or goings, or even conversations that he could hear. People were in for the night, having their supper and going to bed. He never saw Ivor ap Yestin enter the apothecary shop, but now that he knew where the man was, he wasn’t going to let this go. These men who personally served Henry wanted to debate the subject of Ivor and decide what to do about it.

But he didn’t.

There was no debate.

He knew what he had to do.

In a huff, Treyton turned and left the keep, leaving Kent and Jareth and Britt. They watched the man go, knowing he was unhappy with the fact that he had no say in the issue of Ivor ap Yestin, at least nothing superseding Torran’s commands, but they let him go. He was young and emotional and truly felt the needs of his family should be more important than anything else. Not that anyone really disagreed with him, but there was a larger political picture to consider.

“Where is Torran?” Kent finally asked.

Jareth pointed upward. “His chamber,” he said. “I do not think the man has properly slept since we left London, so he said that he was going to lie down before supper.”

“We need to wake him,” Kent said. “He’ll want to know.”

No one could disagree.

The three of them headed to the sleeping quarter above.

*

“He’s in town.”

Treyton wasted no time in gathering the gatehouse men to him, all of the de Russe men because Torran had put them in charge of the gatehouse. That meant Treyton had a crowd of men who had been part of the siege of The Narth, men who would like nothing better than to capture the man who had escaped them.

Treyton’s grim announcement had their attention.

“Are you certain, my lord?” someone asked.

Treyton nodded firmly. “I am,” he said. “And we must act now. If we cut off the head of the viper, he will no longer strike. That means we will capture ap Yestin and avenge my sister once and for all.”

His men nodded eagerly and Treyton’s rage was fed. Validated. They wanted what he wanted. He was back in the heat of battle, laying siege to The Narth and determined to get to the bastards who had harmed his sweet sister. Talia, a delicate lady with lovely manners who was very much in love with her Wellesbourne betrothed.

Michael Wellesbourne was an excellent knight and a decent fellow, though Treyton had heard, more than once, that he had a fondness for a baker’s daughter in the village near his home. Treyton had even asked him about it, and Michael had assured him that it was a rumor dredged up by the baker and his wife, offended that they couldn’t pawn their spinster daughter off on the local lord’s son.

Treyton had taken him at his word.

Every man had their troubles. Treyton had been around long enough to know that and the rumors didn’t affect his respect for the man. The marriage between his sister and the House of Wellesbourne would be yet another marriage between the two families, cementing what was already a strong familial alliance. Treyton had vowed to Michael that he would find and punish the Welsh for what they did to Talia, and although Michael wanted to join him, he preferred to spend his time at Talia’s bedside should she awaken.

Treyton could understand that.

Therefore, he was determined to punish those responsible for his sister’s ambush, and every de Russe man there knew it. Torran de Serreaux had put Treyton and his men in charge of the gatehouse, so here they were, ready to slip off into town on foot because the village was just that close. And the lure of Ivor was just that great. Gathering horses would attract attention and there were plenty of Henry’s men around that would see it, so they were prepared to close the distance on foot.

“We are ready, my lord,” the man closest to him said. “What will you have us do?”

Treyton looked around. He had about five hundred men with him total, but only a third of those men were at the gatehouse tonight. Everyone else was sleeping or simply off duty. Rather than summon the entire group, he was willing to work with what he had. He couldn’t take all of them lest Henry’s men grow suspicious.

“He is at the apothecary’s shop,” he said. “He seems to be alone. Who was with me when we raided the village after my sister was injured?”

Several hands went up, including the man who had asked the question. Treyton pointed to that man.

“Gather everyone who was on the raid,” he said. “Enough to total fifty men. The rest we will leave here at the gatehouse because I do not want Henry’s men trying to stop us. The gatehouse is our domain, and if they believe it is still properly manned, we will not draw their attention. Do you understand?”

The man, named Rufus, nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “I will form the group bound for the village right away.”

As the man dashed off, Treyton hissed at the other men to spread out and act normally. He knew that at least two of the Guard of Six were around. He’d seen them prowling the bailey, getting to know the place, but the problem was that he had no idea where those two had gone. He did, however, know that de Bermingham and Payton-Forrester were overseeing the kitchens and hall and other domestic duties, so they wouldn’t be anywhere near the gatehouse. He was going to have to hope that the two rogue Guard of Six men were out of sight of the gatehouse when he made his move.

And he intended to make it immediately.

The longer the wait, the more antsy he became. There was no telling how long Ivor would actually remain at the apothecary’s shop, so Treyton didn’t want to delay. He wanted to get to the man before he vanished again. As he stood there and twitched anxiously, Rufus informed him that the men were ready to go.

And go they went.

But not unnoticed.

*

He didn’t want to be in the kitchens anymore.

Orion was on the western portion of the wall, away from the kitchen and smoke and that slovenly cook who kept tasting everything he cooked with the same spoon and then belching loudly enough to strip the mortar off stone. He farted, too, driving Orion out of the kitchens when Bennet was brave enough to stay. He didn’t trust the cook, he said, so he was going to watch every move the man made to ensure Henry’s troops wouldn’t be poisoned.

That had been about an hour ago. Orion had been watching the road that ran adjacent to Penderyn, but there hadn’t been much activity on it. He could see the village from his position, the silver skeins of smoke trailing up from cooking fires as the night deepened and a hush settled over the land. His position also afforded him the ability to see part of the road leading up to the gatehouse, so he saw distinctly when Kent returned and two more men after him, one of whom was Treyton de Russe. He didn’t know who the second man was, but he would find out.

It seemed that Kent and Treyton were having all the fun.

Orion didn’t like being kept out of the chain of command and was positive he’d never forgive de Serreaux for assigning him to domestic duties. He even toyed with making a formal complaint to Henry about it, but that probably wouldn’t be the best move. The Guard of Six could do no wrong in the eyes of the king, and even Orion knew that. Still, the urge to complain was strong, but it was something he was going to have to forget. He may have been petty, but he wasn’t vindictive.

He would just have to suffer.

“I’ve not been up here yet. The view is remarkable.”

Orion turned around to see Bennet coming up behind him. “It is,” he agreed. “It is peaceful, too. It is difficult to believe there was a siege here not long ago.”

Bennet noted part of the wall that had been knocked out by a projectile. “There is damage, but I’ve seen worse,” he said. “I agree with you, however. The place is surprisingly unmarked.”

Orion simply nodded, knowing that Bennet had not come up here to make idle conversation. He’d come to the wall for a purpose, and Orion was willing to acknowledge that.

“I apologize for abandoning you in the kitchens,” he said.

“Nay, you do not.”

“Nay, I do not,” Orion agreed, hanging his head. “If that man farted one more time, I was either going to push him into the hearth or suffocate, so truly, I left to save my life and his.”

Bennet snorted. “How noble of you.”

“I am a noble man.”

Bennet sighed, leaning on the wall next to Orion. “You keep telling me that,” he said. “So far, all I’ve seen is a complainer and a man prone to think he is better than everyone else. But I am certain that noble man is buried underneath all of that bluster. Hopefully I will see him before I am dead, or my time spent with you will have been wasted.”

Orion burst into soft laughter. “Do you not like me just a little?”

“Not even a little.”

Orion’s laughter grew. “Cheppy, how can you say such things to me?” he said, but it wasn’t really a question. More like another complaint. “I suppose I shall have to like you enough for the both of us.”

Bennet grunted. “Monty, when you say things like that, it makes me want to push you over this wall.”

The hated nicknames were introduced once again. The last time that happened, the mood between them had gone cold. The potential was there for the situation to repeat because they had not addressed that little skirmish since it happened. They’d spent the afternoon together, for the most part, and no mention of it had come up.

But it did now.

Now, neither one of them could ignore it.

“You know why the name you have selected for me does not please me?” Orion said as he continued to gaze out over the darkened landscape. “I had no choice in serving de Montfort. I hated every minute of it. I did not agree with his ambition, but because I was sworn to serve his wife, I was given no choice. Had I been given a choice, I would have fought for Henry and Edward. Hearing you call me by that man’s name reminds me of a failure I could not control. No man likes to be reminded of that.”

Bennet was looking over the landscape, too. He didn’t say anything for a moment, mulling over Orion’s honesty. He was surprised by it, frankly, because he hadn’t thought the man had it in him. Orion always came across as a superficial arse, not given to anything deeper than what was on the surface, but that was evidently not true.

Perhaps his honesty earned the same thing from Bennet.

Perhaps it was time.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly. “You already know that I was the commander of Chepstow about twenty years ago, but what you do not know is how it ended. I was about your age, mayhap younger, and I fell in love with a woman who became pregnant with my child. I wanted to marry her, but her father refused us. In order to preserve his daughter’s reputation, he told the world that I had seduced and raped her. In order for me to protect her, I did not fight back. I let the world believe what he told them. I left Chepstow in shame and I never married. I cannot marry someone else when I still love her. Therefore, calling me ‘Cheppy’ as you have does not bring back the fondest memories. It only reminds me of pain.”

By that time, Orion was looking at him. That hint of deep feeling he’d shown with his confession was now quite obvious as Bennet confessed his own sins. Shockingly, there was a good deal of feeling in his expression.

“Forgive me, Bennet,” he murmured. “I did not mean to hurt you. I will not say it again.”

Bennet met his gaze. “Actually,” he said slowly, “I do not mind if you do now because you have asked forgiveness. You have shown great compassion. That tells me that your heart is, indeed, noble. And a noble man should not have to serve anyone against his will. I am sorry you had to.”

Orion smiled faintly. “Call me Monty if you wish,” he said. “Because you are the first man I’ve ever told my story to who truly believed me.”

“No one else has?”

“If they did, they still judge me for it.”

“I do not judge you,” Bennet said. “In fact, I hold you in great esteem because in spite of your feelings toward de Montfort, you still kept your vow of service. It takes a man of great honor to put his convictions aside in order to fulfill his oath.”

Orion smiled weakly. “That is not something I’ve heard,” he said. “Thank you for saying that. I am grateful.”

Bennet smiled in return, but his reply was cut off when he caught sight of something over Orion’s left shoulder. Orion instinctively turned around to see what had the man’s attention, only to witness dozens of men pouring out of the gatehouse under the cover of darkness. One of them stood aside, pausing, directing the others to rush toward the village in different groups—and in the torchlight of the gatehouse, they could see who it was.

A big knight bearing long, dark hair.

“Is that de Russe?” Orion hissed. “What in the hell is he doing?”

Bennet moved closer to Orion, seeing what he was seeing. “I do not know,” he said with concern. “But whatever it is, it cannot be good.”

Together, they watched de Russe as he instructed groups of men, all of them on foot, all of them rushing into the line of trees that separated the road from the village to the southwest.

Armed men.

“Is… is he directing his men to storm the village?” Orion said in disbelief.

Bennet grabbed him by the arm. “Come,” he said. “We must see what is happening. And where is de Serreaux? We must make sur he is aware of this.”

Orion was already on the move. “Find him,” he said. “I will see what de Russe is up to.”

They were moving down the tower turret, taking the narrow stairs quickly and emerging into the bailey. Their attention was on the gatehouse, where there still seemed to be quite a few de Russe soldiers, standing about as if nothing was amiss. Orion started to move toward the gatehouse but Bennet stopped him.

“Wait,” he said, grasping the man’s arm. “If something is going on, it will be you against two dozen de Russe soldiers, so do not go alone.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bennet caught sight of a pair of Henry’s soldiers, men coming from the direction of the hall. Bennet whistled loudly between his teeth, motioning the men toward him.

They came on the run.

“Where are Henry’s knights?” Bennet asked calmly but quickly.

The men pointed back toward the hall where the soldiers supped. “Three of them are in the hall with Sir Stefan,” the soldier with a red beard said. “I don’t know where the others are, my lord.”

“Find them,” Bennet said, his voice smooth and deep in command. “Tell them that de Russe is sending his armed soldiers into the village and the Six must come immediately. From what we saw, about three or four dozen de Russe soldiers went toward the village, so tell Sir Torran immediately. Go .”

The soldiers fled as Bennet returned his focus to the gatehouse. “Now you may go see what de Russe is up to,” he told Orion. “But I am going with you.”

Orion put his hand on the hilt of his magnificent broadsword, a weapon that he was never separated from because it was so expensive. “Then let us find out,” he said ominously.

They did.