Page 18 of Insurrection (Guard of Six #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“M y mother hits harder than you do!”

Orion emphasized that statement with a boot to the face and the de Russe soldier went flying backward, into a wall. But there were more to take his place, and after swinging every chair, every pot, every cooking implement and even a few pitchers, Orion had run out of ammunition and resorted to kicking and punching. He had big hands and big fists, and his strikes could be devastating, but the truth was that he was simply overwhelmed with all of the de Russe soldiers. They’d been unable to remove Ivor or the wounded Welshman because Orion was giving them such a bad time, but little by little, they were wearing him down. No one wanted to draw a weapon because it would be English upon English if that was the case, and not one man in that chamber wanted to go that far.

Not even Treyton.

He was furious at Orion, who was preventing him from moving his prisoner. He wasn’t exactly defending the man; he was simply creating chaos. He served Torran, and subsequently Henry, and because Torran hadn’t been part of this raid to capture Ivor, Orion was putting up quite a fight.

But it didn’t last for long.

Treyton was preparing to make a final move to get Orion out of the way so that he could remove Ivor when more armed men suddenly appeared. They came rushing in through the apothecary shop as well as through the rear garden, and suddenly, Treyton and his men were being swarmed. Because he saw swords, Treyton unsheathed his own weapon and soon his men were following suit. There were flashes of blades all over the dim chamber, and somewhere in the middle of it they could hear someone shouting.

“De Russe!” It was Torran. “Put the weapons away or I will have my men disarm you and your men and throw the lot of you in the vault. Do you understand me?”

Treyton had opened his mouth to reply when Bennet suddenly came crashing in through the rear of the cottage, shoving men aside and throwing punches until he got to Orion. One look at Orion’s bloodied mouth and Bennet shoved his fist into the face of the nearest de Russe soldier in a blow that sent the man down to the ground, unconscious. He fell over Ivor, who had come around by this point, and Ivor groaned as the soldier’s head hit him in his soft belly. Bennet was about to throw another punch when Orion threw his arms around the man from behind, trapping his arms and preventing him from fighting.

“Nay, Cheppy,” he said, grinning with bloodied teeth. “No need to kill anyone. I’m quite all right, though I appreciate your sense of timing. I knew you’d come back for me.”

Bennet was furious, struggling to calm down as Torran stepped into the chamber with Kent directly behind him. Kent saw Ivor and another man on the ground, with a limp de Russe soldier on top of him, and he yanked the soldier off and tossed the man aside. Ivor labored to sit up with Kent standing guard as Torran faced off against Treyton.

“You stupid fool,” Torran growled. “You had no authority to come in here and do this.”

Treyton flared. “I have every right,” he said hotly. “Ivor ap Yestin is responsible for my sister’s fate and I have every right to bring the man to justice.”

“I told you to wait for Henry’s answer,” Torran said, his jaw twitching angrily. “You are creating more problems by acting so rashly.”

Treyton was so enraged that he was quivering. “I do not care if I am creating problems,” he said. “But I will tell you this—my father and his army can get here much sooner than any message, or reinforcements, from Henry. Mayhap we will act without the king’s permission, but I say now that I do not care and neither does my father. We will punish those responsible for Talia’s assault. You are a knight, de Serreaux, sworn to uphold the oath of chivalry. That means protecting the weak. Why would you stand in our way after this ghastly attack on my sister?”

Torran was trying to keep his temper in check. He’d just run all the way from The Narth to prevent Treyton from making a very big mistake, in his opinion, but Treyton didn’t seem to appreciate the delicate situation they were in. He hadn’t from the start. Crooking a finger at Treyton, Torran pulled him out of the chamber and into the apothecary’s shop, but Treyton would go no further. He wouldn’t go out on the street where they could talk in private.

Torran was forced to address the matter within earshot of others.

“Listen to me and listen well,” he said to Treyton, his voice low and steely. “No one is trying to prevent you from seeking justice. Your sister deserves it. But you also must realize that making an example of a prince of Wales, and a revered warlord, will have catastrophic consequences.”

“That does not matter to me.”

“Then Clearwell will be the target of every Welsh warlord with a thirst for English blood,” Torran said. “They will be seeking revenge against you . Is that what you want?”

Treyton understood very well what Torran was suggesting, but his sense of vengeance clouded everything else. Frustrated, he began to fidget.

“If that had happened to your sister, what would you want?” he demanded.

Torran sighed sharply. “I would want exactly what you want,” he said. “But not this way. You must let Henry have a say in this.”

Treyton was grinding his jaw stubbornly. “I will not,” he said. “Punishing ap Yestin is our right.”

He wasn’t going to budge. Torran could see that. But if he could at least stall the man, maybe that would be time enough for Henry to respond. Better yet, if he could get Gaspard de Russe to weigh in on the situation and perhaps rein in his reckless son, that might be the best option they had.

In any case, he had to force everyone to calm down.

“It is your right,” Torran said as evenly as he could. “No one is trying to take that away from you. But you must at least send a message to your father about this. More than you, he has a right to make this decision because it was his daughter who was injured. Will you not even send word to your father before you end a man’s life for something he did not do?”

That brought Treyton pause. The first flickers of uncertainty appeared in his eyes. “I want ap Yestin as my prisoner,” he said.

Torran nodded. “He shall be,” he assured him. “Take him back to The Narth and put him in the vault. But let your father make the final decision on ap Yestin’s fate, because if the man is executed, it will light the marches up for years to come. You do not want the death of men in battle to be on your conscience for a decision you made in anger.”

That statement nearly took all of Treyton’s drive out of him, mostly because Torran was right. He was acting recklessly, but not without cause. Not without a reason.

He had to make Torran understand that.

As Torran and Treyton hashed out Ivor’s fate, Kent was still standing where Torran had left him, right in the middle of The Bryn’s large kitchen with two dozen de Russe soldiers standing around and about the same number of Henry’s troops crowding in. In particular, he was standing over Ivor in case any de Russe soldiers decided to harass the man.

There was chaos going on, or had gone on, and Kent was baffled at Treyton’s move to capture Ivor without any authority to do so. He looked down at Ivor, who was bent over the man next to him, the one that was clearly wounded. There were bloodied rags on the man’s belly. Perhaps Kent should have been concerned about Ivor and the wounded man, but he was more concerned by the fact that the cottage was torn apart and he hadn’t yet seen Madelaina. It was possible she was in another chamber, safe from the madness.

He could only hope that that was the case.

“De Bermingham,” he said, calling over to Bennet. “Where is the family that lives here?”

Bennet had pulled himself out of Orion’s grasp and been endeavoring to forcibly calm himself. Hearing Kent’s question, he simply shook his head. He didn’t want to shout out their location for the de Russe soldiers to hear, not when he was trying to hide the women from them, so he motioned Kent over. Kent moved around Ivor and the wounded Welshman, coming into close proximity to Bennet and Orion.

“What is it?” he said to Bennet. “Where are they?”

Bennet kept his voice down. “De Russe wanted to take them prisoner as well, so I’ve hidden them,” he said. “They’re up the street at that inn where Stefan was infested with vermin. It was the only place close enough at short notice, but I suggest we move them to The Narth for their own safety.”

Before Kent could answer, Stefan appeared in the rear garden along with Britt, Aidric, and Dirk. Jareth had been left behind in command of The Narth, but the rest of the Six had come running to head off Treyton. As Stefan headed in Kent’s direction, Britt took a swing at a de Russe soldier who had inadvertently bumped into him. Given the volatility of the situation, it wasn’t surprising, but Kent grabbed Stefan by the arm.

“These soldiers need to be cleared out of here,” he said loudly into Stefan’s good ear. “Torran and de Russe are discussing the situation, but the soldiers need to be cleared out for everyone’s safety. They have no reason to be here and, frankly, I don’t want them around ap Yestin.”

Stefan nodded. “We’ll clear them out,” he said, turning to Aidric and Dirk. “Move the soldiers out. Kent wants them removed.”

Britt was still wrestling with one of the soldiers and Stefan found himself breaking up the fight as Aidric and Dirk began shouting orders, moving the soldiers out through the trampled garden. Stefan and Britt joined in, and soon enough, the four of them were steadily moving the soldiers out. The chamber was clearing. Even Orion got in on it because he loved yelling at men and pushing them around. Bennet started to follow the group to lend a hand, but Kent stopped him.

“Are the women unharmed?” he asked.

Bennet nodded. “Frightened, but unharmed,” he said. “It was a mess when we got here, Kent. De Russe and his men had all but destroyed the cottage and the women were in great peril.”

“Where is The Bryn?”

“He went to tend a sick man and has yet to return.”

Kent eyed him a moment. “Give your last contact with the man those years ago, I believe that is a blessing.”

Bennet nodded reluctantly, on a subject he didn’t want to discuss. “Aye,” he finally said. “I suppose so.”

Kent’s gaze lingered on the man. “Are you well?” he asked quietly. “Seeing Madelaina’s mother must have been a shock. If you wish to talk about it, I will listen.”

Bennet looked at him in surprise. But only for a brief moment. “I’ve gone for twenty years without anyone lending an ear or sympathy to my situation,” he said, smiling weakly. “It is strange for me to hear you say such things.”

“I will not say it again if it unsettles you.”

Bennet shook his head. “It does not,” he said. “Oddly, it gives me a sense of value. As if what I feel and think is worth something.”

Kent put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You have value to me, if that matters.”

“More than you know.”

Without much more to say, at least in the middle of this situation, Kent looked around at the ravaged chamber, which had, in fact, been quite heavily damaged by de Russe’s antics, and all he could think of was Madelaina in the middle of it. Strange how a man who was unused to thinking about a woman should suddenly take to it so easily. His thoughts shifted from Bennet’s feelings to Madelaina’s safety.

“Where is that inn?” he asked. “Which direction?”

Bennet motioned to him. “Come with me,” he said. “I will take you.”

Kent started to move, but not before he paused in front of Orion, who was standing by the garden door as if to ensure the de Russe soldiers wouldn’t try to enter again.

“Guard those Welshman with your life,” he said, pointing to Ivor and the wounded man. “Do not let them leave and do not let anyone but Torran take them.”

Orion nodded sharply. “Aye, my lord.”

With that, Kent followed Bennet out of the mashed garden and into the alley beyond. He was about to follow the man east, toward the road, when something caught his eye.

A sad dog face.

Arthur was cowering in a corner of the garden, frightened by all of the activity and violence, and Kent whistled softly to the dog, calling him. With hardly any prompting at all, Arthur came out of his corner and trotted over to Kent, who patted the dog on the head, trying to give him some comfort. Since they were off to find the dog’s mistress, Kent encouraged the dog to follow him and, quite easily, Arthur did.

The main avenue seemed quiet at this hour, probably because the villagers were too frightened to leave their homes after the ruckus de Russe caused. There was virtually no one out at all and shutters were closed over cottage windows. The mood all around was dark and fearful as they moved swiftly up the avenue, heading for a dwelling up the road with pinpricks of light emitting from the windows. The only source of warmth and illumination, drawing them to it like moths to flame.

When they finally reached the inn, Bennet shoved the door open and Kent followed, bringing the dog with him. They didn’t stop in the smoky, smelly common room, but instead headed to the rear of the establishment. Bennet came to the very last door by the exit out into the livery yard and paused, rapping on the panel softly.

A shaky voice answered.

“Who is it?”

“’Tis me, my lady,” Bennet said. “Please open the door.”

After a moment, they could hear the bolt being thrown. Slowly, the door inched open and Madelaina’s face appeared. Since it was dark in the corridor, she could only really see Bennet, and she opened the door wide to admit him. As he stepped in, Kent came up behind him and into the light.

Startled, Madelaina stepped back, her eyes wide on him. A hand flew to her mouth, and a moment later, she simply turned her back on him.

She didn’t want to see him.

Kent, of course, knew why. They hadn’t spoken since she’d lied to Ivor about who Kent was. He knew that she was fully aware that he’d lied to her about his identity. He was fully aware that she probably hated him for it.

He found that he was fairly desperate to explain himself.

“My lady,” he said softly, pulling Arthur into the chamber. “I brought you something.”

The dog came in, wagging his tail, bumping into Madelaina, who put her hand down to pet her beloved dog.

“I am grateful,” she whispered tightly.

Kent merely nodded, tearing his focus away from her to see that Bennet was standing over Celyn as the woman sat on the bed, gazing up at him. He didn’t know if the two of them had been given a chance to speak in private, but he suspected not. Perhaps it was time to give them that privacy—for certain, he needed some with Madelaina.

“My lady?” he said to her. “Will you come with me, please? I have a need to speak with you.”

Madelaina simply shook her head, petting her dog as she faced the hearth. With a faint sigh, Kent came up behind her, as close as he could get without touching her, and whispered into the back of her head.

“Please, Madelaina,” he murmured. “I beg you.”

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there. But suddenly, she moved around him, giving him a wide berth, and left the chamber. Kent quickly followed, with Arthur trailing behind them both, and he followed her out into the livery yard.

When they were gone and it was just Bennet and Celyn in the chamber, Bennet paused for several long moments before looking at Celyn. She was sitting on the bed, her head lowered, looking at her hands.

Bennet had never felt so much angst in his life.

Angst for a moment he’d never thought would come. Angst for a life he wanted so badly, one that had been brutally ripped away from him, leaving a shell of a man behind. The last time he was alone with Celyn, they were planning their elopement, so he found himself having flashbacks of The Bryn breaking in through the door with an ax in his hand, threatening Bennet as Celyn threw herself between the two and tried to defend him.

He closed his eyes tightly to the memory.

“I think she likes him,” Celyn murmured softly.

Bennet’s eyes opened and he looked at her lowered head. “Who?”

“Maddie,” she said. “I think she likes the man who came with you.”

“Kent?”

Celyn looked up at him. “I thought his name was Trevyn?”

Bennet shook his head. “I fear that is what he is about to explain to Madelaina,” he said. “He told her that was his name when he met her, but it is not.”

Her brow furrowed. “I do not understand,” she said. “I briefly met him, only once, but I’ve not spoken to my sister about him since. My comment was because in our brief introduction, I could see the way Maddie looked at him. That is why I said I believe she likes him.”

Bennet nodded, but only in that he understood what she meant. Not that he agreed with her statement. Frankly, he was more concerned with her. The more he realized that they were actually alone and The Bryn wouldn’t be crashing in through the door, the more eager he was to speak with her.

“Tell me what happened tonight,” he said. “How did that chaos get started?”

Celyn shrugged her shoulders as if she really didn’t know. “I prepared supper as I usually do,” she said. “Maddie had invited Trevyn to dine with us, and Papa was amenable, but I do not usually sup at the same table as men I do not know. I never have. All this to say I was not in the kitchen when the English arrived. I was in my chamber, sewing, and I heard the noise. When I came out of my chamber, Madelaina came rushing out of the kitchen and ran into me. We were trying to leave but got caught up in the fighting. We were simply trying to protect ourselves when you came.”

“Then you did not know that Ivor was a guest at your father’s table?”

She shook her head. “I thought it was Maddie’s traveler,” she said. “What happened tonight? I do not understand.”

Bennet sat down on the bed, a foot or so away from her. “What do you know about the English being at The Narth?”

She cocked her head thoughtfully. “I know that they came a short time ago and Ivor ap Yestin fled to the north.”

“Do you know why they came?”

“Nay. Why?”

“Because the daughter of an English warlord was assaulted not far from here as she traveled,” Bennet said. “Her father traced the perpetrators to this village. Evidently, they found the woman’s jewelry here, being sold by merchants. They assumed those from The Narth were responsible, so they sacked the castle.”

Celyn was looking at him in surprise. “Is that why?” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Truthfully, I do not pay much attention to news in the village or rumors. Maddie is the more sociable. She and my father seem to know everything.”

His focus lingered on her for a moment. “I am glad I found you when I did,” he said. “I am glad I was able to bring you to safety.”

Celyn nodded, but the weight of the conversation was growing heavy. They’d discussed the situation, Bennet had explained it, and now the conversation was transitioning into an obvious direction.

The two of them.

“I could not believe it when I saw you,” Celyn finally said. “I have been dreaming of this moment for over twenty years, Bennet. What would I say to you if I ever saw you again? Somehow, I thought it would be in a more peaceful setting. Not in the middle of a battle.”

He smiled weakly. “Not ideal circumstances, to be sure,” he said. “But I am still grateful for them. Grateful that de Russe sacked The Narth. Grateful that it brought me to you again, if only briefly.”

Celyn returned his smile. “There is so much I want to ask you but I do not even know where to start,” she said. “The last time I saw you was as The Bryn was taking me away. Then I sent the missive to you in secret after Madelaina was born. You did not reply, of course, but I hoped you had received it.”

“I received it,” he murmured.

The smile didn’t leave her face as she studied him, acquainting herself with lines in his face that perhaps weren’t there before. He looked older, and more mature, but he was still the handsome man she’d fallen in love with. It didn’t seem possible that so many years had passed, because it was almost as if they’d never been apart. She could still feel the same comfort with him, the same sense of safety and adoration. He was the same Bennet she’d fallen in love with, now here before her.

It was a precious moment.

“After you left here, you returned to Chepstow,” she said.

He nodded. “I did.”

“But The Bryn had you removed.”

“He did.”

“Where did you go?”

He sighed faintly, thinking on the past twenty years and the life he’d led. “Back to Ireland,” he said. “I went back for a while and then returned to serve at Richmond Castle, about as far away as one can get from Wales. I served in the royal corps, serving the king, until I was sent to Henry’s household about six months ago.”

“You spent the past twenty years at Richmond?”

“I spent about fifteen years there. The rest was in other places.”

Celyn nodded in understanding, but there was one question she wanted to ask him that she wasn’t sure she really wanted the answer to. Still, she was compelled to ask.

She had to know.

“Did you marry, Bennet?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Did you?”

“Nay.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would not be fair for any man to live in your shadow,” she said. “I have only loved one man. There is no room for anyone else.”

Bennet’s expression filled with understanding, with sympathy, and perhaps even a little joy. “That is exactly how I feel,” he said. “I did not realize you would still feel the same way.”

Her expression softened. “Of course I do.”

He puffed his cheeks out in a gesture that suggested relief. “I am glad,” he said. “You will never know how glad. And to see you again… This moment will give me the strength to carry on.”

The warmth faded from Celyn’s eyes. “Bennet… do you think… do you think we will ever be together again?” she said. “Or is that an impossible dream? Are we to simply remain accustomed to our lives as they are, without one another?”

He shook his head slowly. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “I’m sure your father still feels the same way about a marriage between us. The man ruined my life, Celyn. I let him do it because I would rather have me ruined than you ruined. I do not have any fond feelings for him and, truthfully, I am not entirely sure how I would react if I asked him for your hand and he denied me again. I might have to kill him, and we could not build a marriage together that was based on a murder.”

She looked at him, a little shocked, before forcing a smile. “I should not have asked you such a question,” she said. “We have only just seen each other today, after so many years apart. Forgive me for asking. It was foolish.”

Reaching out, Bennet impulsively clasped his big hand over hers, their flesh touching for the first time in twenty years. The shock of it brought Celyn to tears.

“It was not foolish,” Bennet said, watching her features crumple. “It is a natural question. I never married, nor did you. We wanted to marry each other, but that was not to be twenty years ago. I think… I think that if we were to try again, I would not ask your father. We would simply do it, and there is nothing he could do about it once the deed was finished. Alas, I have thought about that very thing for years. I have relived the day your father separated us over and over in my mind. I have often chastised myself for not being braver in the face of his refusal. I’ve spent twenty years with his lies hanging over my head, Celyn. Twenty years of being relegated to a lower-level knight because of a lie an old man told. What he did to me was not fair. But what he did to you was worse.”

Celyn looked up at him, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. “What did he do to me?”

“Destroyed your dreams.”

Celyn had calmed a little by now, sniffling away the last of her tears, but she was looking at his big hand as it covered hers. “Madelaina is my dream,” she murmured. “I could not have you, but I could have a piece of you in her. You did not even have that.”

He nodded, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “She seems like a well-mannered young woman,” he said. “You have raised her well.”

Celyn smiled up at him at the mention of their daughter. “She is wise beyond her years,” she said. “She reminds me of you in that way. You were always so wise and calm. She has those traits, too.”

“I hope I have the opportunity to come to know her.”

“I hope you do, too.”

“Bennet?”

“Aye?”

“Will you sit here and hold my hand? May we simply enjoy that for the moment?”

He smiled faintly. “I would like that,” he said. “Unfortunately, I cannot remain too long. There is much happening at The Narth with the capture of Ivor, and I must return. I do not want them to come looking for me and, subsequently, find you. You must stay out of sight until this issue with Ivor is settled.”

Celyn understood.

In the dim light, in the silence of the night, they simply sat on the bed, holding hands, feeling the warmth and adoration between them that had never died. Love like that wasn’t meant to.

It was meant to last forever.