Page 19 of Lion of Thunder (De Lohr Dynasty: Sons of de Lohr #5)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“H e did not run away,” Christopher said. “I refuse to believe he ran away. He was happy with this marriage and with his new wife. The day of his marriage, he was happier than I have ever seen him. He did not run away.”

He was facing off against Marius and Esther in Marius’ cluttered, smelly solar. Marius was surprisingly sober and Esther was distraught. Elysande had been crying steadily since the day before, and Dustin had already sent word to Lioncross, summoning the sons they’d left behind to make haste to Massington.

Westley is missing.

That was what the missive said.

But no one wanted to truly believe it.

Least of all Christopher.

“If he did not flee, then where is he?” Marius demanded. “He has married my daughter, assumed a title, and now he is gone? Mayhap that was his intention all along!”

Christopher eyed Marius with a great deal of displeasure. “It was not his intention,” he said. “Your daughter agrees that they were happy. The marriage was agreeable. But somewhere between the morning after the wedding and this very moment, Westley has vanished. His horse is gone, but his possessions are still here. Would a man flee and leave his possessions?”

Marius didn’t have an answer for that. He was upset and hungover, a bad situation for him to be in, so he stood up and went in search of the wine that was like mother’s milk to him. As he found a half-full pitcher of it on a nearby table, Esther looked to Christopher apologetically.

“I do not believe he fled, either,” she said quietly. “He left his things. He left Ella. What could have happened to him?”

Christopher didn’t know. All he knew was that the more time passed, the more panicked he became. It wasn’t like Westley to run off like this, much less run off without telling anyone. Wearily, he rubbed his forehead.

“I do not know, my lady,” he said. “My soldiers have asked everyone at Massington if they have seen him. Your knights, Olan and Harker, are searching for clues. The rain yesterday has washed away any trace of hoofprints, so we cannot track his horse. My men have been out on the road for two days, looking for clues. I even sent them into Ledbury and Hereford to look for him, but no one has seen him. My wife sent a missive home to Lioncross, so if he has gone home, I will know about it soon. We will find him.”

Christopher rubbed his head again, suffering through another one of the terrible headaches he’d been prone to for the past few years. No sleep and plenty of stress weren’t helping. Esther noticed that he was rubbing at his temples.

“Mayhap you should lie down, my lord,” she said. “I will send warm wine with willow bark in it. That will soothe your head.”

Christopher forced a smile at her, knowing she was trying to be kind. “Mayhap I shall,” he said. “I do not think I’ve slept much over the past two nights.”

“Go,” Esther said, eyeing her husband. “I will stay with Marius. Where is your wife?”

Christopher grunted as he stood unsteadily. “She went to the kitchens to find something to tempt me,” he said. “I’ve not eaten much in the past two days, either. I have been a good deal of trouble to you and to my wife.”

Esther smiled. “No trouble at all,” she said. “If I hear anything, I will send word to you right away.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

As Christopher lumbered out, heading for the mural stairs that led to the upper chambers because Esther had moved him and Dustin into a room in the keep, his wife was down in the kitchens because the cook was making stuffed boiled eggs at her request. It was the one thing Christopher would go out of his way to eat, so she wanted to have something for him that he could not refuse. He hadn’t eaten much lately. The cook at Massington was a man who had served the House of du Nor since the days of Marius’ father, and he had an excellent recipe for stuffed eggs. Dustin watched him make them, a dish she wanted to take back to Lioncross with her.

Essentially, the hard-boiled eggs were cut in half and the yolks extracted. The yolks were mashed with vinegar, cream, salt, minced pickled onions, dill, a little cheese, and then some chopped egg whites. They were then folded back into the egg halves, rolled in flour, and fried in lard. Dustin had one as soon as it was finished, and it was utterly delicious, so she confiscated about a dozen for Christopher. The cook piled them into a basket, and she took that and a pitcher of watered wine, heading back to the solar to find her husband and see if she could tempt his appetite.

Given the stress of the past two days, it could go either way.

The kitchens of Massington were in a separate outbuilding, tucked into the kitchen yard and about halfway between the great hall and the keep. There was a little alleyway between the great hall and the wall of the kitchen yard that provided a nice, protected pathway between the locations, and she was in this passageway, shoving an egg into her mouth, as she swiftly moved for the keep. Just as she drew near the small yard that surrounded the keep, a shadow stepped out from the gateway that led to the great hall.

“My lady?”

It was Harker. He startled Dustin and she nearly choked on the egg, coughing as she tried to swallow it and not spray it all over the ground. Hand covering her mouth, she managed to choke it down.

“Harker, is it?” she said, coughing out the last little bit. “My apologies. You startled me.”

“Forgive me, my lady,” Harker said. “I did not mean to. But I wanted to speak with you alone.”

Dustin looked at him curiously as she wiped the egg crumbs off her mouth. “Why?”

Harker sighed heavily, looking around as if hoping no one would see them. “My lady, I must tell you something,” he said quietly. “But first, you will promise me that you will not tell your husband where you received your information. If he knows, he may want to interrogate me, and I am not the one to be interrogated.”

Dustin’s curiosity began to shift into something suspicious. “What do you mean?” she said. “What information are you speaking of?”

Harker hesitated, looking around again, before continuing. “On the day your son disappeared, I saw him speaking with Olan,” he said.

Dustin’s eyebrows lifted. “Olan?” she repeated. “I do not know who that is.”

“The other Massington knight,” Harker said. “My lady, forgive me for saying this quickly, but I must before someone sees us in conversation. When Samson Fitz Walter was chased from Massington, Olan was tasked with ensuring he and his men departed. I came back into the bailey, but Olan remained on the road with Fitz Walter for quite some time. When he finally returned, he went straight to bed. He did not speak with me or anyone else that I am aware of.”

Dustin wasn’t quite following him. “Why is that an issue?”

“It would not be, under normal circumstances,” Harker said. “I am not explaining this well, but I believe that Olan has a loyalty to Fitz Walter.”

“Why should you think that?”

“Because his cousin serves Fitz Walter,” Harker said. “I believe he sends the man information from time to time. He does not think I know, but I do. I have for years. He pays a soldier to run to Hell’s Forge. He also pays him for his silence on the matter.”

Now, Dustin was starting to catch on. “So you think that Fitz Walter coerced Olan to do something?”

Harker shook his head in a helpless gesture. “All I know is that Westley was last seen with Olan,” he said. “I saw them together myself. Then they both disappeared, only Olan returned in the middle of the night. He does not think I am aware of his return, but a servant told me. It is my belief that Westley and Olan left together, and mayhap Olan tricked him somehow and turned him over to Fitz Walter, to whom Westley had just given a savage beating. Do you understand what I am telling you now?”

Dustin did. Her eyes widened and she gasped. “You think Westley has been taken by Samsom Fitz Walter?”

“The only way you will know that is if you interrogate Olan,” he said. “But you must not tell your husband that I told you this, because he will want to speak with me—and if Olan senses that I saw him with Westley, he may try to run. He may even try to kill me to silence me. There is no knowing. When a knight goes bad, he will do anything to keep his secret. Therefore, your husband must not know it was me. No one must.”

Dustin was starting to quiver. She was absolutely terrified by what she was hearing. “My God,” she breathed. “There is a viper at Massington and he has struck my son.”

Harker wasn’t sure how to respond to her. He had said all he intended to say, something he’d wrestled with for two days. He was positive that Olan had something to do with the disappearance of Westley, but given that Harker didn’t like Westley very much, he’d kept his mouth shut. He was glad that Westley was gone, but that lasted for about a day. Then his conscience started to get the better of him. Even if he didn’t like Westley’s arrogance, his disappearance was concerning, and hurting, a great many people.

They had to know what he knew.

“Tell your husband, Lady Hereford,” he said. “I will go back to my duties, but you must tell him now. And you must not let Olan know that you know until you can cage him in a room and not let him leave. If he flees, you’ll never know what happened to your son.”

Dustin had never been so frightened in her entire life. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And then she was gone.

Harker went back to his duties, hoping he’d done the right thing.

And he could only hope he had done it in time.

*

“Chris?”

Dustin entered the small, warm chamber she and her husband were sharing, setting the basket of stuffed eggs on the nearest table as she scurried over to the bed.

“Chris? Are you awake?”

He wasn’t. It was the first real sleep he’d had in two days, especially after Esther’s wine had arrived, but Dustin’s hissing had brought him around. The chamber was dark, the oilcloths pulled and embers glowing in the hearth, but he could see her outline in the dim light.

“I am awake,” he mumbled. “But I was not when you came in.”

Over near the bed, Dustin struck a flint and stone and lit the taper at the bedside. When she knelt down next to the bed, Christopher could immediately see that she had been weeping. More awake now, he reached out a hand and gently cupped her face.

“Do not cry, sweet,” he said softly. “We will find Westley, and when we do, I shall kill him for giving us all such a scare. You needn’t worry.”

Dustin shook her head firmly. “Listen to me, please,” she said. “He has been abducted by Fitz Walter.”

Christopher frowned and sat up in bed. “What are you talking about?”

Dustin was trying very hard not to sob. “Chris, I was sworn to secrecy about the source of the information I am about to tell you, but I find I cannot keep it from you in good conscience,” she said. “You must not do anything about it. You must not contact the person who gave me this information. You must focus on the information itself. That is the best chance of us finding Westley alive.”

She wasn’t making any sense, and he took her hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “Breathe, love, breathe,” he said quietly. “Now, tell me what you know. What has happened?”

Dustin took a deep breath. “As I was coming back from the kitchens, Harker stopped me,” she said. “You know Harker—the Teutonic knight.”

Christopher nodded. “I know of him.”

She continued. “He told me that he saw Olan and Westley leave Massington two days ago, only Olan returned and Westley did not,” she said. “Harker says that Olan is loyal to Fitz Walter because he has a cousin who serves him. Harker believes that Olan took Westley to Fitz Walter and that Westley is now his captive.”

Christopher was stunned. “My God,” he gasped. “But… why? Why would he do such a thing?”

“Because Olan is sweet on Elysande,” Dustin said, wiping a tear that had trickled out of her right eye. “He did this out of jealousy or spite. Who knows? Chris, what are we going to do?”

She was starting to cry, and he pulled her onto the bed, into his embrace. He held her tightly as his mind whirled— what are we going to do? Truthfully, he didn’t know. It had already been two days. There was a very real possibility that Westley was already dead, but Christopher wasn’t going to say that to Dustin. She was probably already thinking it, but he wasn’t going to voice it. Not now.

Now, he had to focus or all would be lost.

His son would be lost.

Forever.

“You already sent word to Lioncross, did you not?” he asked.

Dustin nodded, pulling her face out of his chest and wiping her eyes. “As soon as we realized that Westley was missing,” she said. “We should be hearing something soon.”

Christopher thought on that. “Very soon if they moved swiftly,” he said. “When we left, Curtis and Roi and Myles were still there. Douglas was heading home. And Peter was at Ludlow.”

“Then mayhap Curtis and Roi and Myles will come,” Dustin said hopefully. “But can we truly wait for them? Olan must be interrogated immediately. Every second that passes is a second that Westley is in danger.”

Christopher rubbed her arms, soothing her. “I know,” he said. “But we must plan well for this. We cannot simply run off in a panic.”

“I am not panicking,” she insisted. “But we cannot wait. Westley needs help.”

Christopher could see how upset she was, seized with the urgency of the situation. There was a time when he could have taken on Olan quite easily and interrogated the man to death, but the truth was that he was an old man with health issues now. He was still big and strong, but could he take on a man like Olan, who was younger and more agile? Possibly. He had about eighty de Lohr soldiers with him, including some senior sergeants who could quite easily take Olan into custody and contain him while Christopher interrogated him. He had thought to wait for his younger, strong sons, but perhaps Dustin was right—perhaps Westley didn’t have that kind of time.

But he would need his sons to march on Hell’s Forge.

God, he hated the thought of Westley in that place.

He hated the thought of trying to breech it even more.

Well did he remember those many years ago when John was tearing across England, wreaking havoc, and the siege of Hell’s Forge to force Ralph Fitz Walter’s older brother to surrender the bastion. The man was Samson’s father, and it was possible that Samson remembered that siege also. It was bloody and long but, in the end, Hell’s Forge held. Christopher was terrified that if he laid siege again, it would continue to hold.

With Westley inside of it.

But he couldn’t relay that fear to his wife. She was already upset enough. Now, he was going to have to move and gain information before he could plan a successful campaign. Hopefully, reinforcements from Lioncross would be there soon, because there was no time to waste.

“You’re right,” he finally said. “He does.”

He pushed her out of the way so he could rise from bed, going in search of his clothing as Dustin watched anxiously.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

Christopher pulled off the heavy sleeping robe he was wearing. “To find Marius,” he said. “If the man isn’t sober and I have to force boiled fruit juice and eggs and honey down his throat to help him regain his senses, then that is what I am going to do. I need him and he will comply. I will not accept anything less.”

He pulled a tunic over his head as Dustin rushed forward to help him dress. “He started this by being deceptive about not telling us that Fitz Walter had made an offer for Elysande,” she said. “And his knight is the one who has betrayed Westley. When we regain our son, I will advocate that you lay siege to Massington, oust Marius, and place Westley in command. How dare that man cause us such grief!”

She was moving swiftly and angrily in helping him dress, which meant Christopher eventually stood there while she did everything for him. When she pulled the ties on his breeches too tight, he grunted and put a hand over hers.

“Sweetheart, I realize we are not having any more children, but if you make that any tighter, something you and I both greatly value may be restricted to the point of death,” he said, watching her grin. “Ease up, my love. I am not the enemy.”

She started laughing. “What are you waiting for?” she said, pointing to the door. “Marius is waiting for you.”

A smile flickered across his lips, the first one in two days. “Aye, general,” he said. “Anything else?”

The grin faded from Dustin’s face as she looked up at him. “Just bring my little lad home,” she said, tearing up. “My Westley. He was such a difficult birth, Chris. I would be destroyed for him to survive only to be cut down by Ralph’s nephew.”

His mirth faded as well. “I know,” he murmured.

“Ralph tried to destroy us once. He is still trying, even from the grave.”

A deadly gleam came to Christopher’s eyes. Like the Defender of the Realm of old, a title he had held for years, Christopher de Lohr was not to be trifled with.

Not even from beyond the grave.

“Not if I can help it,” he rumbled. “I killed him once. I can do it again.”

Leaving his wife wiping away tears, Christopher went in search of Marius.