Page 20 of Insurrection (Guard of Six #2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“I ’ve heard something.”

The words were quietly uttered in Treyton’s ear. He and his men were heading back to The Narth on foot and it was Rufus, the seasoned soldier, who had Treyton’s ear. In the middle of their pack was Ivor, his hands bound and a gang of weapon-wielding soldiers crowded in around him. Treyton was at the front of the group as they trudged up the dark, muddy road with Rufus walking beside him.

“What have you heard?” Treyton asked, not looking at the man.

Rufus kept his voice quiet. “I’ve heard that one of the Six is a friend of ap Yestin’s,” he muttered. “Do you wonder why they protect the man so rabidly? It is because one of them is a friend.”

That news came as a distinct surprise to Treyton. “A friend?” he said. “A Welsh prince is a friend to one of Henry’s guards?”

“An old friend, I’m told.”

Treyton looked over his shoulder, back into the pack of men following him. Far back behind them were the Guard of Six, making sure the de Russe men didn’t kill Ivor in their quest for revenge. Treyton was viewing them as his enemy now, certainly not men he felt any camaraderie with, considering they were preventing him from doing as he wished with Ivor.

The bonds of allies were beginning to fracture.

“I knew something was amiss,” Treyton hissed, facing forward. “There is a traitor among them. Mayhap that is why they came in the first place. Not at Henry’s command, but to interfere in de Russe affairs. Mayhap they intend to side with ap Yestin in order to prevent me from doing what is my right to do.”

“Anything is possible, my lord,” Rufus said. “It makes their presence here… concerning.”

“I would agree with that,” Treyton said. “Which one of them is it?”

Rufus shook his head. “That was not made clear to me, but think about who has grown up on the marches in this area,” he said. “You are well aware that Kent de Poyer’s father has property just over the hills. If ap Yestin grew up at The Narth, and de Poyer spent his childhood at Tyr Castle, I think we have our answer.”

Treyton was looking at him with some anger. “It has to be de Poyer,” he said. “I do not think it could be anyone else. And it is also well known that Kent’s grandmother is full Welsh, so he grew up with the Welsh. Cousins and comrades.”

“Comrades like ap Yestin.”

“Exactly,” Treyton said. “I am, therefore, not going to let de Poyer’s muddled loyalties stop me from doing what needs to be done. De Serreaux has tried to convince me that should any harm come to ap Yestin, it will result in a war along the marches that will threaten thousands.”

“Mayhap he lied to cover this relationship with ap Yestin.”

Treyton nodded. “And now he has been discovered,” he said with some satisfaction. “You will tell de Serreaux that I want to speak with him when we return to The Narth. And put Ivor in the vault under guard.”

“Aye, my lord.”

As Rufus went about carrying out Treyton’s commands, The Narth loomed ahead. There were dozens of soldiers crowding around the gatehouse, watching the returning troops and wondering what had happened in the village. There was a definite separation between de Russe troops and Henry’s troops as they came through the gatehouse, and surrounded by a gaggle of de Russe soldiers was a dark-haired man in traditional Welsh clothing with his wrists bound. That man was taken down into the vault beneath the gatehouse, but it was with an escort of de Russe men, along with Orion and Stefan to ensure Ivor didn’t have an “accident” and fall down the stairs. Torran had sent them along because he didn’t trust the de Russe men not to do just that.

The mistrust, between everyone, was getting worse.

It culminated in a physical confrontation between Treyton and Jareth. As Treyton came up the steps to the keep, Jareth was standing in the doorway watching the activity in the bailey below. Without a word, Treyton tried to push past him, into the keep, but Jareth made a rather large blockade. Angry that his way inside was being blocked, Treyton tried to shove Jareth out of the way with his shoulder. Jareth may have been the diplomat of the group, and the academic, but he was also a highly skilled knight and quite powerful. When Treyton tried to ram him, he shoved back and ended up pushing Treyton halfway down the stone stairs. When Treyton caught himself, he roared with anger and charged back up the steps, but Jareth balled his fists.

“Try that again and I’ll do more than push back,” he growled threateningly. “If you behave like my enemy, I will treat you like one, so be aware.”

Treyton came to a halt just out of Jareth’s range. “Get out of my way,” he snarled.

“Nay.”

Infuriated, Treyton did what he shouldn’t have done—he charged forward to dislodge Jareth and was the recipient of a booted foot to the face. Down he went, tumbling down the stairs until he came to the bottom. Dazed, and with a bloody scrape that went the width of his forehead, he was trying to pick himself up when Torran, Britt, Dirk, and Aidric walked up.

“What happened?” Torran asked as he looked up at Jareth. “What did he do?”

Jareth was quite displeased with Treyton’s behavior. “He tried to ram into me to get into the keep,” he said. “The man didn’t say a word—he came up the stairs and threw his shoulder into me when he reached the door. He tried it again and I kicked him in the head. And now you see where he has landed.”

Torran looked down at Treyton. In fact, the four knights all looked down at Treyton as the man struggled to stand up and shake off the bells in his head. No one moved to help him.

“De Russe,” Torran said with disgust in his tone, “I do not know what ails you, but if you do not cure it, I am sending you and your army home on the morrow. What on earth possessed you to ram Jareth?”

Treyton was on his feet now, facing off against Torran. “I have a better question for you,” he said furiously. “Where do your loyalties lie, de Serreaux?”

Torran had no idea what the man meant. “The same place your loyalties lie,” he said. “To God and country.”

“What about de Poyer?”

“Same.”

“Are you telling me that they do not lie with his friend, ap Yestin?” Treyton nearly shouted. “It all makes sense to me now, why you have been advising me against doing anything rash when it comes to Ivor ap Yestin. It is because de Poyer is his friend. The man’s loyalties are torn!”

Britt reached out a fist, fast as lightning, and punched Treyton in the jaw. As the man toppled sideways, Aidric and Dirk pulled Britt back, away from a fight. Torran even put himself between the pair so Treyton wouldn’t come back at him.

He pointed up the stairs.

“Get into that keep,” he said threateningly. “Get up there and behave yourself. You and I have things to discuss.”

Rubbing the right side of his face, Treyton cast Torran a baleful expression before heading up the stairs. This time, Jareth gave the man plenty of room to get by him as he followed him into the keep. Torran, Dirk, Aidric, and finally Britt followed.

A difficult night was about to get worse.