Page 22 of Insurrection (Guard of Six #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“S houting at me is not going to help the situation,” Torran said. “ You are the one who acted rashly, de Russe. Not me. You do not seem to care if the marches descend into a hellscape of fire and death, but I can assure you that Henry will. He will hear about your reckless behavior.”

Treyton was facing off against a chamber full of Henry’s men—Aidric, Jareth, Dirk, Britt, Orion, Stefan, and Bennet were backing up Torran during this explosive exchange. Treyton had no one but himself in support and knew he was close to being removed from The Narth and sent home in disgrace, but the one thing that was keeping that from happening was the fact that Ivor was in the vault—his prisoner—and if he left, he would take Ivor with him. That was his legal right, considering he’d captured the man.

And it was clear that Torran didn’t want Ivor taken from The Narth.

That realization fed Treyton’s rage.

“I am not shouting at you,” he said, though it was done loudly in spite of his protest. “The point is this—any magistrate in the country will legally side with me in this matter. Ivor ap Yestin is my prisoner and you cannot take that from me.”

“No one is trying to take that from you,” Torran said evenly. “But you are thinking with vengeance in your heart and not a sense of the welfare of others.”

“I do not care about others!” Treyton burst out. “I care about my sister and justice!”

“Do you not have the patience to actually find those responsible?” Torran said. “Or do you simply want to arbitrarily punish a man you think may have men under his command who have committed this heinous crime?”

Treyton was backed into a corner. Literally. They were in the large, two-storied entry chamber, the one with the big hearth and tables, and he was standing with his back to the hearth. If he went any further, he would end up in it.

“I do not like the fact that you are treating me as if I’ve done something wrong,” he said. He slapped himself in the chest. “I have not done anything wrong. I am doing something that any of you would do if your sister had been attacked and beaten so badly that she cannot walk any longer. If you looked at your sister with her broken fingers where they stole her rings, or an eye that was so badly broken that she will never look the same again, you would have the same sense of vengeance in your heart that I have. If you did not, then you are not worthy of being a man.”

Torran sighed, saddened at yet more detail of Talia de Russe’s injuries. “Treyton, no one is treating you as if you have done something wrong,” he said. “We would all like to see justice served for your sister. But there are two problems we are facing—the first problem is that you have a Welsh warlord, a prince of Elfael, in your custody, and you know how volatile that is. The Welsh do not take kindly to their princes being treated poorly, especially for crimes they did not personally commit. The second problem is what I just mentioned—Ivor ap Yestin did not order the attack on your sister, nor did he participate in it. You would be punishing an innocent man, which makes this situation so very much worse.”

Treyton had his arms folded across his chest angrily. “He will not tell me who committed this attack, so he gives me no choice.”

“You have a choice, Treyton. But you are too stupid or too stubborn to realize it.”

Torran hadn’t spoken those words. Everyone turned to see Kent entering the keep, his gaze fixed on Treyton, who had once been someone he had shared a peaceful acquaintance, if not an actual friendship, with.

But not anymore.

As Kent walked up on the group, he made his way straight to Treyton.

“The man didn’t hurt your sister,” he said in an icy tone. “He did not order his men to do it. Why can you not take him at his word?”

Treyton scowled. “Did you not hear what I told you when you first arrived?” he said. “Merchants in the village were selling my sister’s rings.”

“Did you ask them where they got them?”

“Where else would they get them?” Treyton said hotly. “The Narth overlooks the village, Kent. There were five hundred Welshmen in the fortress when we sacked it. Where else would those jewels have come from?”

“Then you did not ask them.”

“They would not tell us!” Treyton snapped. “Why do you think we sacked the castle?”

Kent cocked an eyebrow. “Do you really want to know?” he said. “I think you sacked it in revenge for the merchants being unable, or unwilling, to tell you where they got the rings. I think you sacked it on a whim, before you thoroughly investigated the situation. I think you did it because you were angry and nothing more. You’re so determined to find the men responsible for Talia’s injuries that you’re willing to destroy innocent men simply because you can.”

Treyton was red in the face by the time Kent was finished. “I did not want to believe what I heard about you, but it seems that I should have,” he growled. “You speak like a fool.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “God’s Bones, Treyton,” he said sarcastically. “By all means, tell me what you heard about me. Let us all hear what you’ve heard.”

“That Ivor ap Yestin is an old friend of yours,” Treyton said. “I’ve also heard that every member of the Guard of Six has named his weapon. Yours is named Insurrection . Is that what will happen now? You will stage an insurrection and side against your own countrymen in protecting a murderer because you are a traitorous bastard?”

Kent leaned in Treyton’s direction, preparing to take a swing at the man, but Torran stopped him. Orion and Stefan, however, had no such restraint. They charged forward and would have made it to Treyton had Bennet and Britt and Aidric not stopped them. Orion took a swipe at Treyton and made contact, nearly toppling the man back into the hearth before Bennet managed to drag him away. Britt and Aidric were pushing back Stefan, who was seemingly furious.

“What did he say?” Stefan demanded. “If Orion thinks it is bad enough to charge, then I stand with him. What did that bastard say?”

“He called Kent a traitor,” Orion shouted over to him. “He needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Then let’s get him!”

The pair charged again, but too many hands were holding them back. Meanwhile, Treyton had moved away from the hearth so he wouldn’t end up in it. Chaos threatened to descend and Torran knew he had to do something.

He motioned to Jareth.

“Go to the vault,” he said. “Take Dirk with you. Bring ap Yestin up here. Let us get to the truth of this once and for all.”

Jareth and Dirk bolted, heading swiftly out of the keep. Kent managed to pull himself away from Torran, struggling to cool his temper as he headed over to Orion and Stefan.

“Orion,” he said, slapping the man lightly on the cheek. “I’ve been called worse, lad. You’ve probably been called worse, too. Look at how concerned Bennet is about you. He’s an old man and you are going to give him heart failure with your behavior, so shut your mouth and sit down. Please.”

Orion wasn’t happy with the command, but he obeyed. He stopped struggling and found a seat with Bennet as his minder, and the man wasn’t going to let Orion get into any trouble on his watch. The two had formed a strong bond, and that was clear. The group stood in silence, spreading out over the chamber as they endeavored to cool their tempers. Kent made it over to one of the tables, perching on the end of it, watching Treyton like a hawk.

The mood in the hall was heavy and dark.

Kent could feel it but didn’t care. He wasn’t surprised that Treyton had heard about his relationship with Ivor, because others knew. Men talked and men overheard. He could see why Torran hadn’t wanted him to tell Treyton of his association with Ivor on the day they arrived because, clearly, Treyton thought the worst, just as Torran suspected he would. But he knew now and Kent wasn’t going to deny it. Those few years of his youth when he and Ivor were friends were important to him. Those were years when he learned to be tolerant of people who had different backgrounds than he did. He found interest in those who were different.

He wasn’t going to let Treyton trivialize that.

“Now you see why I did not want you to tell him that you knew Ivor,” Torran said quietly, walking up beside him. “Vengeance can make a man twist things around. He’s not thinking clearly.”

“You’re wrong,” Kent said, his focus on Treyton. “He is, indeed, thinking clearly. He wants to blame everyone for his sister’s injuries and, soon enough, is going to blame me also.”

“He has no reason to.”

“Mark my words.”

Torran didn’t have much to say to that. He hoped Kent wasn’t right, but then again, there was no telling. But he knew one thing.

The situation was going to get ugly.

They proceeded to wait in silence for several long minutes until Jareth and Dirk reappeared with Ivor between them. There were some de Russe soldiers on the stairs to the keep, having followed the two royal knights, trying to get their hands on Ivor because they knew who he was. They’d been told that the prisoner was responsible for Talia’s injuries, and there was some talk of throwing him from the wall, but several of Henry’s soldiers intervened and the sounds of a brawl wafted in through the open entry door.

Torran motioned to Jareth and Dirk.

“Quickly,” he said. “Bring him in and bolt that door.”

Dirk went to throw the bolt and seal the keep as Jareth took Ivor to the table that Kent was sitting on. Ivor sat, looking at the men around him without much emotion, but when it came to Treyton, he was wary.

Torran looked at Treyton but pointed to Ivor.

“There he is,” Torran said. “Ask him your questions. Get the answers you seek.”

Treyton’s face was set in a permanent frown as he moved in Ivor’s direction. He was keenly aware that Kent was seated only a few feet away from his prisoner, which thoroughly irritated him. Birds of a feather, he thought.

The first thing he did was point at Kent.

“Do you know this man?” Treyton asked.

Ivor looked at Kent before nodding. “I do.”

“ How do you know him?”

“We were friends, as children.”

“Do you know his brothers?” Treyton asked. “He has several.”

“Henry, Clarke, Edward, and Owen,” Kent said, eyeing Treyton with hostility. “What is your point?”

Treyton cocked an eyebrow. “Your friend can speak for himself.”

“Then ask him some relevant questions and stop being an idiot.”

That only inflamed Treyton. He looked at Ivor, moving closer. “Henry, Clarke, Edward, and Owen,” he repeated, almost mockingly. “Do you know them?”

Ivor shook his head. “I know of them,” he said. “I know that one of them is the garrison commander at Tyr Castle, but I do not know which one.”

“You’ve never had any contact with them?”

“Nay.”

“What are you driving at, Treyton?” Torran interrupted.

Treyton looked at Torran, at Kent, and shook his head in disgust. “I’m simply putting the pieces of this puzzle together,” he said. “I am allowed to interrogate my own prisoner, and if you interfere, I’ll go to the local magistrate.”

Torran snorted rudely. “And do what?” he said. “Honestly, Treyton, you’ve gone from bad to worse with your irrational thinking. Do you know who the local magistrate is? Rex de Lohr, the Earl of Cheltenham. He is allied with Henry and with de Poyer, so if you think to cause problems, I would not try. You’ll only look ridiculous.”

Treyton shook his head, clearly furious, as he looked between Torran and Kent. “You have been trying to discourage me from seeking justice for my sister since you arrived,” he said. “Frankly, I did not know why you even came to The Narth, but I am starting to.”

Kent looked at Torran. “This should be good,” he muttered before turning his attention to Treyton. “Go ahead and tell us this great revelation.”

Treyton wasn’t amused by Kent’s attitude. “I think you brought Henry’s troops here to keep me from discovering the truth,” he said. “And that is exactly what I am going to tell my father when he arrives.”

“What truth?”

Treyton pointed to Ivor. “His family and the de Poyer family are allied,” he said. “That made me realize that the de Poyer family must be involved in this.”

Kent frowned. “Are you mad?” he said. “No one is involved in anything.”

“I do not think that’s true,” Treyton said. “Ivor would not turn over the men responsible for my sister’s attack because I suspect they are at Tyr Castle, being hidden from me by Ivor’s great friends, the de Poyer family.”

Kent hadn’t been expecting that bit of foolishness, and he rolled his eyes, looking at Torran to see that the man thought Treyton’s fantasy to be fairly foolish as well. Kent wiped a weary hand over his face.

“You are creating situations that are simply not true,” he said. “Treyton, no one is hiding these men, least of all my brother, Henry, who is the garrison commander at Tyr. Henry is an honorable man who would never do such a thing even if Ivor managed to ask him, which he did not.”

Treyton wasn’t convinced. “I am going to have my father petition Henry for an impartial magistrate to interrogate your brother,” he said. “I sent word to my father the day you arrived, you know. You told me to, and I did. He will be here soon and will know about this situation.”

“And what is that?”

Treyton grunted, a disagreeable sound. “That there is something amiss because Henry’s men seem to be allying with the Welsh and not an English warlord who is loyal to the Crown,” he said. “My father will know everything because it means that this… this corruption goes deeper than just Ivor ap Yestin. I think de Poyer is involved in this and you do not want me to discover that.”

Kent simply looked at Torran. He was the leader of the Six, and although Kent wanted to throttle Treyton, he wasn’t going to act on a whim. He would wait to see how Torran wanted to handle this, because the truth was that the House of de Russe could cause trouble for the Earl of Talgarth and his holdings. Nothing that could be proven, of course, because it was all just a fantasy, but word could get around. It wouldn’t reflect well on Caledon or his sons that Gaspard and Treyton de Russe were calling them traitors because they helped cover up a beating of a young woman.

“De Russe, you are a madman,” Ivor spoke up. “Understand me—I am sorry for what happened to your sister, but neither me nor my men had anything to do with it. I do not even know where this attack happened because you’ve never made that clear. The only thing you’ve done is make demands for criminals who do not exist, and rather than actually try to find them, you have grown lazy and complacent and seek to place the blame where it does not belong. That does not serve justice for your sister.”

Treyton exploded. “You will not speak of my sister,” he boomed. “You will keep her from your mind, you murderous bastard. She had everything in the world to live for and now… now she cannot walk and we do not know if she will ever speak again. Her face is misshapen from where she was beaten. Her fingers were broken as your men yanked her rings off. And you wonder why I want to discover who did this? I will discover them and I will punish them!”

He moved toward Ivor, causing the man to leap up from his seat to put some distance between them. “I am not the only one seeing your irrational behavior,” he said, dodging behind the table. “And I am not denying involvement because I am afraid of you. I am denying involvement because it is the truth!”

Treyton launched himself at Ivor, which predictably brought the wrath of Kent. Ivor was smaller than Kent, and faster, and managed to dodge out of the way as Kent and Treyton collided. With flying fists and grunts, the fight was on.

As the two of them grappled across the table, a great pounding could be heard. Someone was hammering on the entry door, the one Dirk had bolted, and the reverberation could be heard all throughout the hall. Someone wanted very much to get in the door, but Torran wasn’t in any hurry to answer it. But the pounding didn’t stop, and as Kent and Treyton ended up on the floor, with Kent smashing the man’s face into the stone, Torran grew irritated with the continuous pounding and motioned to Bennet, Orion, and Stefan.

“See who it is,” he said. “If it is a de Russe soldier, throw him over the side of the stairs. Aidric, Dirk—you will be the second line of defense in case they try to break in.”

As the knights moved to the entry door, preparing to toss whoever was pounding on the door off the staircase and into the bailey below, Torran and Jareth and Britt were watching Kent pound the senses out of Treyton. Treyton was a big man, but Kent was too much for him. Over near the hearth, Ivor had picked up an iron fire poker and was preparing to use it on Treyton should the man come near him.

“Are you not going to stop this?” Ivor asked, indicating the fight. “They will kill one another!”

Torran watched as Treyton managed to throw up a fist and clip Kent in the chin. “It will be over soon enough,” he said. “I think this has been a long time in coming, so let them fight it out. It will cool their blood.”

“ Torran! ”

At the sound of his name, Torran turned toward the entry door to see an older man in well-used protection entering the keep. There were a couple of other men with him, but they were held back by the knights at the door. Only the older man had been allowed through. As he drew nearer, Torran could see the de Russe dragon on the tunic he wore. Approaching the area near the hearth, the older man saw the fight and scowled.

“Treyton!” he boomed. “What is the meaning of this?”

The man’s voice was loud and Treyton immediately stopped wrestling with Kent. His head popped up from where Kent had him pinned on the ground.

“Papa?” Treyton said in surprise. “My God… Papa! ”

Kent’s attention was diverted enough by the new arrival that Treyton was able to shove him over and get out from underneath him. He was on his feet, bloodied and beaten, as he approached his father.

Gaspard de Russe looked at his son in outrage.

“ What are you doing?” he demanded. Then he started pointing to the men around him, whom he did not recognize. “Are these Henry’s guard?”

“Aye.”

“Why on earth are they beating you?”

“He made the first move, my lord,” Kent said, unwilling to be made out to be the aggressor in this situation. “I was responding to his aggression.”

Gaspard looked at his son, deeply displeased. “Damnation, lad,” he muttered. “Not again.”

Treyton was without defense and he knew it. There were nine witnesses to attest to the fact that he’d moved first, so he did the only thing he could do.

He pleaded.

“Papa,” he said, desperately needing his father’s sympathy. “It is not as it seems. I—”

Gaspard cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I do not wish to hear your excuses,” he said. He looked off to his left, where Torran and a few others were standing. “Well? Who are you?”

Torran answered. “I am Torran de Serreaux,” he said. “I command Henry’s Guard of Six. We’ve not met, my lord, but Henry speaks highly of you.”

Gaspard eyed the man. “My son told me that you had come,” he said. “I’d just arrived home when I received my son’s missive, so I hurried back. He told me why you came.”

Torran nodded. “I have Henry’s missive addressed to you that will explain everything,” he said. “I will fetch it.”

Gaspard held up a hand. “That is not necessary,” he said. “When you hear what I have to say, you will understand why.”

“What’s amiss, Papa?” Treyton said. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, God… Did something happen to Talia?”

Gaspard nodded. “She regained her wits,” he said, sounding relieved. “Just as I reached home. I was able to speak with her for the first time since the attack and discover just what really happened.”

That was good news as far as Treyton was concerned. “Then this is a fortuitous moment, because Ivor ap Yestin is my prisoner,” he said, pointing to the man over near the hearth with the iron poker in his hand. “Unfortunately, Henry’s men do not seem to want me to punish him for the crime. De Poyer in particular seems to be complicit with the man and has protected him.”

“Complicit?” Gaspard repeated, confused. His gaze moved from his bloodied son to the man he’d been fighting. “Is that what this is about? You want to punish a man for your sister’s attack?”

“Of course I do.”

Gaspard was beginning to grasp the situation and what his son had been up to. He nodded in understanding. “I see,” he said, but his gaze moved to Kent. “You’re de Poyer?”

Kent nodded. “I am, my lord.”

Gaspard looked him over. “I’ve not seen you since you were a lad,” he said. “You look like your father.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Papa,” Treyton said, interjecting himself into the conversation. “Did you not hear me? We now have the man who is responsible for Talia’s assault.”

Gaspard shook his head. “He is not responsible.”

That brought surprise from everyone listening. “What do you mean by that?” Torran said. “Have you discovered something, my lord?”

Gaspard nodded. “Indeed I have,” he said. “Treyton, I’ve come to fetch you because we are abandoning The Narth.”

Treyton’s eyes widened. “We are?” he said, shocked. “But… why ?”

“Because we are going to punish the true assailant.”

“Who is that?”

Gaspard looked at his son. “According to your sister, it was her own betrothed who committed this heinous crime,” he said. “Talia recognized some of the men as being friends of Michael Wellesbourne. It seems that he would rather marry that baker’s daughter, so he tried to stage the murder of your sister and make it look like a robbery. With Talia out of the way and the Welsh to blame, he can marry whomever he wishes.”

Treyton’s jaw dropped. “And you are certain of this?”

Gaspard nodded. “That is what your sister told me,” he said. “She evidently heard the men speaking of it when they thought she was unconscious. We are, therefore, going to take our army to Wellesbourne Castle and make sure they know that we will not tolerate an assault on our women. Michael has a good deal to answer for.”

It was stunning news, but it explained so much. Kent hadn’t been the only person who said that something about the attack on Talia de Russe seemed odd. Others had said it, and if they hadn’t said it, they thought it. Now, they were discovering the truth. The Welsh were vindicated.

But no one was more stunned than Ivor.

The man was standing with his mouth hanging open, looking between Treyton and Gaspard in horror. “Then all of this… the sacking of my home… was a mistake?” he said incredulously. “God’s Bones, man… Do you not get your facts straight before you go about ruining people’s lives?”

Gaspard looked at Ivor with the poker still in his hand. “We were meant to ruin you,” he said, more subdued. “We were meant to go off on a wild chase while the real culprit remained unchallenged. It seems that was the plan, because the men who took Talia’s rings, the Wellesbourne men, deliberately took their haul to Penderyn and sold it to a merchant for very little money. Given that it was a good bargain, the merchant took it. It seems they selected Penderyn purely at random, or at least there is no connection that me or my advisors can see. But I will find out for certain.”

“And that’s how the merchant got her jewelry,” Ivor muttered in realization.

“That’s how,” Gaspard said. His gaze lingered on Ivor a moment, apologetically. “I hope you understand that our assault on The Narth was only to seek justice for my daughter. That is all I am interested in. It is not because I hate you or your kin. It was simply to punish who we believed to be the culprits in this situation.”

Ivor sighed heavily and tossed the iron rod aside. “I suppose I can understand that,” he said. “But you killed my men and thrashed my home. I’ve done nothing, yet you upended my life.”

Gaspard nodded. “I will accept that,” he said. “And I will make amends. I will help you rebuild whatever needs rebuilding. I hope you can accept that as an apology on our part. We were misled and, consequently, you received punishment you did not deserve.”

Ivor simply stood there, dazed and upset. Kent and Torran glanced at each other, silent words passing between them, before Kent looked at Ivor.

“He is trying to be fair, Ivor,” Kent said quietly. “He is admitting his mistake and offering to help you.”

Ivor nodded. “I know,” he said. “And I am appreciative. I was just thinking about the vows you and I made when we were lads. You swore never to fight me and I swore never to fight the English from Nether or Tyr. Do you remember?”

Kent smiled faintly. “I do,” he said. “You told me that if other English were to fight you, then you would have to fight them to defend yourself.”

“I kept that vow. I only defended myself.”

“You did.”

“What do you mean?” Gaspard said, moving closer to Ivor and looking between him and Kent. “You two have known each other a long time?”

Kent nodded. “We met as boys,” he said. “We would play at an old castle on the marches. We made pacts, as boys sometimes do. Treyton was concerned that our friendship as children had turned into some kind of alliance and that I was trying to protect Ivor from de Russe justice. If Ivor was guilty, I would not have stood in your way, but he was innocent and Treyton did not seem to think so. Something about this entire situation seemed odd from the start, but your son did not want to acknowledge that. He was singularly focused on the Welsh as the guilty party.”

Gaspard looked with displeasure at Treyton, who shrugged weakly. “I could only base my decision on the evidence,” he said. “It was all we had to go on. And Talia deserves justice.”

Gaspard understood and didn’t disagree, but he’d hoped his son would have been more fair in his judgment. He turned to Ivor. “I can only apologize for the fact that we were misled,” he said. “But it was deliberate. If you and your men wish to join me in punishing Wellesbourne, I would welcome you.”

That seemed to perk Ivor up a great deal. His eyes widened at the offer and he looked at Kent to see the man’s reaction. Kent smiled weakly, nodding his head in support. In fact, all of Henry’s men seemed to be in approval of Gaspard’s offer, and Ivor stood straight, no longer feeling hunted, and brushed the ash from the fire poker off his hands.

“I would be honored to join you, great lord,” he said to Gaspard. “And then you can help me repair the damage to The Narth.”

“Agreed,” Gaspard said. Then he looked at his son and crooked a finger. “You. With me. Now.”

With that, he turned on his heel and headed toward the entry of the keep with Treyton following, head hung. The father was about to have words with his son over his behavior at The Narth, and those words would not be pleasant ones. Everyone watched the pair filter out, and once they were gone the relief in the chamber was palpable. Both Torran and Ivor converged on Kent, who was wiping the blood away from his nose and checking to see if he had any broken teeth.

“Well?” Torran said, mirth in his eyes. “Will you survive?”

Kent moved his jaw around. “Probably,” he said. “But thank God for Gaspard’s appearance. I fear we would have been in a dire situation without him.”

Torran chuckled. “You speak the truth,” he said. “In fact, I should follow them and see what Gaspard plans to do.”

“Other than berate his idiotic son?”

Torran shrugged. “Treyton is a loyal brother and I commend him for it,” he said. “Few men would protect a sister so rabidly. But he is also a stubborn arse and deserves whatever scolding his father gives him.”

With that, he headed for the door, taking Jareth with him. The other men were filtering back into the small solar near the entry door, leaving Kent and Ivor standing near the hearth. Kent pointed to the poker on the floor.

“Were you really going to use that?” he asked.

Ivor scratched his chin, grinning. “I was thinking on it,” he said, but quickly sobered as he looked at Kent. “Once again, you have saved me. I do not know what I’ve done in my life that I should be rewarded with a friend as loyal as you, but know that I am grateful. That is twice I owe you for my very life, and I shall endeavor to repay the debt, however I can.”

As Kent listened to his words, a thought occurred to him. It would more than likely be a difficult request for Ivor, but in this case, Kent was going to be selfish. The more he thought on it, the more hope, and excitement, he felt.

“Do you mean that?” he said. “Because if you truly feel indebted to me, there is something you can do that would save my life in another way.”

Ivor looked at him curiously. “Save your life?” he said. “How?”

“You can give me happiness to last a lifetime.”

Ivor was extremely curious now. “Anything,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

Kent told him.