Page 89

CHAPTER ELEVEN

G art caught a glimpse of Emberley disappearing into the enormous keep as his men described the rider that had been sighted a mile from Dunster. But he shifted his focus from Emberley to the approaching rider, curious and nothing more. A lone rider was not much of a threat so he climbed down off the wall and went to the gatehouse. He ordered his men to lower the portcullis to half-staff, which would discourage the rider from charging into the bailey yet not give off a completely unfriendly appearance from Dunster. It was a precautionary measure.

Gart stood back in the shadows because if the rider was someone familiar to Julian, he didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Crossing his big arms, he waited expectantly for the mysterious rider to appear.

The man wasn’t long in showing himself. Hooves pounded and mail armor creaked as the rider slowed, approaching the gatehouse. A big, brown charger with hairy white feet came into view and Gart recognized the horse immediately. He’d seen that snappish beast before.

“Open the portcullis,” he commanded, moving forward as the horse slowed and began to move through the low-ceilinged gatehouse. “If he makes a wrong move, use him for target practice.”

The knight on horseback heard him, grinning as he raised his visor. Gart met him halfway through the cool passage of the gatehouse, a smirk on his lips.

“And so you have found me,” he said. “Even at the ends of the earth, you have tracked me down.”

The knight nodded, leaning wearily against his saddle. “De Lohr said you might be here,” he replied, his blue eyes twinkling. “I must say, I am rather surprised.”

“Why?”

“Because you are not usually one to keep yourself in the wilds and out of the action.”

Gart wriggled his eyebrows. “Did you come to tell me about the action I am missing?”

The knight shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But I do bring a message for you.”

Some of Gart’s humor left him. He motioned the knight forward, following him as he brought his charger into the bailey and laboriously dismounted. The animal was sweaty and foaming, and the knight was nearly doing the same. Both were exhausted. Gart noticed the sheer fatigue and it concerned him. Why was the man so strung out from his ride? What was so important that he was forced to ride so hard? He faced the man with more composure than he felt.

“How long have you been in the saddle?” he asked, making small talk as the weary knight removed his helm.

“Do you mean to ask if I have slept over the past week?” the knight’s dark eyebrows lifted with some irony. “The answer is I have not. I left Bellham Place six days ago and was told to make all haste for Dunster to see if you were still here.”

Gart eyed the knight. He had known Sir Kevin de Lara for several years, a rather short knight with the strength of Samson. He was young, very handsome, with blue eyes, a square jaw and a bright smile. Moreover, he had a good deal of charisma and was brilliant and honest to a fault. They had served de Lohr together for three years, having spent a full year in France on behalf of the king. They had seen many adventures, and many battles, together. Consequently, Gart respected and trusted the man more than most. He considered him a friend.

“What is the message?” he asked with some trepidation.

Kevin looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot. He looked at Gart as he began to pull off his gauntlets. “Do you want me to tell you now or do you wish to go someplace more private?”

“Tell me now. What is the message?”

Kevin tucked his gloves into his saddle before facing Gart. He exhaled wearily, running a hand over his face.

“De Lohr says to tell you that Buckland is sending an escort to Dunster,” he lowered his voice. “The man wants his family with him in London. David says to tell you that if you are still here, then to get out in a hurry. Buckland’s men can’t be more than an hour or two behind me. I had to ride like the wind to avoid them.”

Gart stared at him. “Buckland wants his family with him in London?”

“That is my understanding.”

“Why, in God’s name?”

Kevin shook his head. “This I cannot know.” He eyed Gart, his good friend. “Do I want to know why you are here and why de Lohr has sent me with this message?”

“What did de Lohr tell you?”

“To help you if you need it.”

Gart gazed steadily at the man, finally emitting a weary sigh and turning away. He thought on the irony of Kevin’s statement. To help you if you need it. At the moment, he needed help. He’d never needed it more in his life.

“Is that all he told you?”

Kevin nodded, starting to feel great curiosity along with his fatigue. “Gart, what goes on?” he demanded softly. “Why are you here? Why was I told to make all haste to Dunster so I could warn you off of Buckland’s approach?”

Gart looked at him. “You would not believe me if I told you.”

“Tell me.”

Gart’s jaw ticked and he hung his head, running his hand across his stubbled, bald head, trying to think of a way to phrase what he had been feeling for the past seven weeks. So much had happened. He suddenly felt like a fool because only fools got themselves into this kind of trouble. He was about to confess his biggest weakness to a fellow knight. But, on the other hand, he had never felt more strong or whole. It was an odd combination.

“You and I have been through much together, have we not?” he finally asked, looking up at his friend.

Kevin nodded. “I would trust my life to you a thousand times over.”

“And I to you.” Gart paused to collect his thoughts. “De Lohr and I came to Dunster two months ago because Buckland had requested de Lohr’s assistance in protecting the queen’s lands in France.”

Kevin nodded. “I know,” he replied. “We are preparing to sail in three weeks, which I am also supposed to tell you. De Lohr wants you in London as soon as possible.”

A second blow in as many minutes. Gart struggled to stay on an even keel as he took a deep breath, digesting the news. After a moment, he snorted ironically and stared up at the sky as if beseeching God for strength to do as he must.

“Buckland’s wife is the sister of Erik de Russe,” he took his eyes off the sky and looked at de Lara. “You remember de Russe, do you not?”

Kevin’s brow furrowed in distant remembrance. “Of course,” he said. “We fostered together. As I recall, you and de Russe were as thick as thieves. So his sister is married to de Moyon?”

Gart nodded. “I have known Lady Emberley since she was a young girl,” he said quietly. “I had not seen her in years until two months ago.”

Kevin’s brow furrowed, appearing quite serious. “De Moyon is the queen’s lover,” he lowered his voice. “The man is spouting it all over London.”

“I know,” Gart replied. “Which is why it makes no sense that he should want his family with him in London. Surely they will only be a burden to him and interfere with his affair with Isabella. Have you heard anything about Buckland other than what de Lohr told you?”

Kevin shook his head. “Nothing other than the fact that the man is a pompous idiot,” he said, his serious gaze moving over Gart’s tight features. “What is this all about, Gart? You still have not told me why you are here.”

Gart looked at him, feeling as if he needed to confide in the man. He’d never felt like that in his life and the walls of self-protection began to crumble.

“What I tell you must not leave your lips,” he muttered. “If it does, many people will suffer.”

Kevin grew intent. “The information will die with me, I swear it.”

“I believe you,” Gart said, taking a deep breath for courage. “I told you that I have known Buckland’s wife since she was a child.”

“You did.”

“I love her,” his voice was a whisper, full of pain. “I am here because I love the woman and she loves me. I intend to take her and the children out of this hellish place where Buckland can never find them.”

Kevin, surprisingly, didn’t react overly. He remained intent, serious. “You… you intend to abduct her?”

“I will not abduct her.”

“She is agreeable to this, then?”

“She is.”

Kevin fell silent as he processed the news. Then he said the first thing that came to mind, the obvious. “But she is married to Buckland,” he lifted an eyebrow, his reaction becoming evident. “You cannot simply take his wife.”

“I am not taking anything. We love each other and will be together.”

“But he can have you charged with thievery for stealing his family if you truly intend to do this. Stealing another man’s wife, particularly a nobleman’s wife, is very serious.”

Gart didn’t back down. “I realize that,” he said steadily. “But he has been beating Emberley since the day they married. When I first arrived here, he beat her so badly that she could not rise from bed for two days. The man is vile and horrible and treats her no better than an animal. Do you have any idea how it feels knowing that the woman you love is married to man who brutalizes her? You cannot comprehend the fury and pain I feel every time I think about it.”

De Lara’s expression darkened. “Nay, I cannot,” he agreed. “But the fact remains that she is Buckland’s wife and….”

“She carries my child.”

So much for composure. De Lara’s eyes widened and his jaw popped open. He stared at Gart for a long, painful moment.

“Are you serious?”

“I would not lie.”

“Then if what you say about Buckland is true, he will kill her when he finds out,” Kevin hissed. “He will also kill you.”

“I know.”

De Lara grabbed him by the arm and began yanking him towards the keep. “We stand here chewing words as if we have all the time in the world when the truth is that time is slipping through our fingers,” he said urgently. “You must leave immediately and take your lady with you. There is no time to waste with Buckland’s men on my tail. No wonder de Lohr sent me ahead to warn you.”

Gart let him pull. “We have nowhere to go.”

“Ridiculous,” de Lara spat. “You will go to my father in Wales until you decide what needs to be done. You will be safe there.”

Gart was greatly relieved yet greatly concerned. “You should not involve yourself in this, Kevin. If you send me to your father, you involve him as well.”

Kevin didn’t seem particularly concerned. “My father hates John, Isabella and everything about them,” he said. “He is an old man with a good deal of power. He will consider assisting you a victory against the king and his vile queen. You have heard of the Trinity Castles on the Welsh Marches, have you not?”

Gart nodded as they mounted the steps to the keep. “Trelystan, Hyssington and Caradoc Castles. They are great Marcher castles.”

“They are my father’s holdings as Viscount Trelystan.”

“I recall,” Gart said thoughtfully. “But I had nearly forgotten. You do not speak much of your father.”

Kevin shrugged. “I do not speak much of my family in general,” he replied as he pulled Gart to the top of the stairs. “Gather the lady and your possessions. Meet me in the bailey as quickly as you can.”

Gart just stared at him, having one of the weakest and most indecisive moments of his life. He was so grateful for the help but he didn’t want to involve Kevin and his family in something so serious. The consequences, for the de Laras, could be as bad as the consequences for Gart. He looked helplessly at his friend. It was clear he didn’t know what to say.

“And then what?” he asked quietly. “It will not end there, Kevin. I must still….”

Kevin waved a big hand towards the keep. “It will end right here if you do not get moving,” he told him. “You can make decisions once you reach my father’s castle, but until then, you can….”

He was cut off by a shout from the wall. Both Kevin and Gart strained to catch a glimpse of what the sentries were pointing at. From their vantage point at the top of the stairs, they could see some of the countryside beyond the walls but not much. Gart shouted up to the battlement.

“What do you see?”

One of his men answered. “Buckland colors, my lord!”

Gart and Kevin looked at each other, stricken. “He is already here,” Kevin hissed. “You must go now if there is any hope for survival. Go to Trelystan Castle near Welshpool and I will meet you there.”

Gart didn’t waste any time. He raced into the keep and on into the great hall, watching as Emberley and the children looked up from their meal at him. He was barreling at frightening speed and Emberley shot to her feet, immediately on her guard.

“What is wrong?” she asked. “Why are you…?”

He grabbed her by the arms, pulling her away from the table so the children couldn’t hear him. But the children were sharp and they could see his agitated manner. Gart was a man always in control, especially around them, and his demeanor roused their concern. Gart didn’t look at the children as he focused on Emberley, taking a deep breath and struggling for calm.

“Buckland has come to escort you to London,” he told her quietly, quickly. “We must escape now or all will be lost.”

Emberley’s eyes widened with shock. “Julian is here?”

He shook his head. There was no time for explanations. “Please,” he begged softly. “Just do as I say. We must escape. You know this castle– how may we escape unseen?”

Emberley’s big eyes filled with tears, overflowing as he watched. She was struggling not to fly into full-blown panic. “There… there is a postern gate by the kitchen yard.”

“Is it locked?”

She shook her head. “During the day it remains unlocked for those who would pass through to do business with the cook.”

“Is that the only way out?”

“Other than the gatehouse, it is the only gate in the wall.”

Gart nodded swiftly. “Then we take the gate,” he went to the table, scooping Lacy into his arms. The little girl threw his head in a bear hug and began to slobber on his cheek. “Get the boys and follow me.”

Terrified, Emberley did as she was told, grabbing little hands and pulling them along. But the boys didn’t understand and they began whining for their toy swords. Just as Gart reached the narrow stairs that led down to the kitchen on the floor below them, Kevin darted in through the keep entry. Gart threw open the door to the stairs as Kevin raced into the great hall.

“Gart,” he was trying not to shout. “Buckland’s men are upon us, at least sixty or seventy of them. They are spreading out around the fortress wall as a small party approaches the gate. You cannot make it out of here in time with all of this baggage.”

He was referring to the children, who were already dragging their feet and complaining loudly. Emberley looked at the strange knight, confused by his appearance, and then to Gart with such fear that he could physically feel it like knives stabbing his heart. He didn’t want to acknowledge that de Lara was right but he knew, deep down, that the man had a point. They could not escape with four screaming children. They would be a target, and a very slow one at that.

“If they find you here, they will kill you,” Emberley whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Those men are loyal to Julian and if they see you….”

He cut her off, his face a mask of anguish. “I will not let them take you to London.”

She grabbed his arm. “And I cannot stand by while they kill you,” she begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please, Gart. Hide somewhere. I have faith that you will come for us but for now, my priority is keeping you safe from Julian’s men. Please.”

He stared at her, torn and in agony, as Kevin agreed with Emberley. “She is right, Gart,” he told him. “You must hide. Let the escort take her out of here and we will follow. It will be a simple thing to steal them once they are upon the road.”

Gart sighed heavily, raggedly. “What about my men? They are on the walls.”

“I have already told them to scatter and regroup in the town,” he told them. “They are clearing out and so should we.”

“And what about you?”

“I am a visitor passing through on my way to London. They will not know or care who I am, but they will care about you.”

“Go,” Emberley reached up to pull Lacy from his arms and the little girl screamed unhappily. “Please go, Gart. We will wait for you to come for us before we reach London. I have faith in you.”

Gart stared at her, truly concerned that he was going to burst into tears. He’d never felt so much pain in his life. There wasn’t time to argue. He threw his arms around her, kissing both her and the unhappy baby.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I will see you all again, very soon.”

“Gart?” Romney was pulling on his leg. “Can I come with you? I can help you.”

Gart felt more pain at the boy’s brave offer. He touched the lad on the head affectionately. “I know you can,” he said quietly. “But it is more important that you stay with your mother. She will need your protection.”

“She has Orin and Brendt. She does not need me, but you do. Who will help you?”

Gart sighed faintly, so deeply touched by the boy’s earnest question. Before he could answer, Kevin spoke.

“I will help him, lad,” he gave Gart a tug, hissing at him. “We must leave. Now. ”

Romney eyed Gart before looking to his mother, seeing her eyes full of tears and her lower lip trembling. As young as he was, he wasn’t stupid. He could see that something was happening between his mother and the knight. He’d seen Gart steal kisses from her and since his father had left for London, he’d never seen his mother smile so much. She was happy and he didn’t have to buy her any more gifts to please her. Gart made her happy and made her smile. But he also knew that his father must never know how happy Gart had made his mother or terrible things would happen. Gart had to leave. He slipped his hand into his mother’s elbow.

“Come on, Mama,” he pulled at her. “Gart must go before Father’s men come.”

Romney’s gentle encouragement was all Emberley needed to hear for her composure to leave her. She broke down into soft sobs as Gart kissed her again, murmuring of his love for her, before being pulled away by Kevin. It was a painful parting. Emberley’s last glimpse of Gart was as he and Kevin disappeared down the stairs to the kitchen, her heart breaking into a million pieces when he vanished from sight. Next to her, Romney was pulling on his mother insistently.

“Come along, Mama,” he told her. “Sit down.”

Weeping pitifully, something Gart had said to her suddenly rang true in her head. He wants so much to be a man. She looked at Romney’s serious face and already, she could see Gart’s influence on the boy. He’d grown up sometime during the past seven weeks and she hadn’t even noticed. Her tears ran fresh.

“You are a good boy, Rom,” she kissed his forehead. “You will be a fine man someday. I am very proud of you.”

Romney regarded his mother a moment. “Why did Father send his men from London?”

Emberley wiped at her eyes. “Because… because it would seem that he wants us to go to him in London.”

“I do not want to go.”

“We do not have a choice.”

Romney wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. He was proud that his mother recognized his strength but very concerned that Gart had fled and his father’s men were about the castle. He liked Gart a great deal, feeling guilty because he liked him more than his father. He didn’t want anything to happen to him. Romney looked at Orin, who was standing with Brendt, wide-eyed as they watched the situation unfold.

“Get Mama some wine,” he told Orin. “Hurry up. And do not spill it.”

Orin nodded his blond head emphatically and rushed to the alcove of the hall where the wine and ale were usually stored. Brendt came to sit next to his mother on the bench, gazing up at her with frightened, blue eyes, and Emberley put an arm around her son’s shoulder and hugged him gently.

“Everything will be all right,” she promised softly. “But we must never mention Gart to Father or to his men, ever. It is a serious secret we must keep or else your father will become very angry. Do you understand?”

Romney and Brendt nodded seriously as Orin returned with a full cup of wine, struggling not to spill a drop. He carefully extended it to his mother, who smiled as she took it from him. She wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes, trying not to think about Gart and his safety as she took a healthy swallow of the tart, red wine. To dwell on Gart would only drive her mad.

She could hear men outside, shouting in the bailey. She knew that Julian had left behind a few men to man the walls and they would undoubtedly speak of Gart Forbes’ men. It was something she couldn’t get around, but she wasn’t particularly concerned for herself at the moment. She could make up an excuse and say they were de Lohr’s men. Gart was out there, somewhere, trying to find a safe haven to hide from Buckland’s party. The more she thought on it, the more fearful she became. She was compelled to do something to help him.

“Rom,” she set the wine down on the well-scrubbed table surface. “Follow the path that Gart took down the stairs and into the kitchen. Find him and help him find a place to hide. We know this place better than he does, do we not? Make sure you keep him out of sight. I will distract your father’s men as much as I can, but you must help Gart. If they find him, they will kill him. Do you understand?”

Romney nodded seriously. “Aye, Mama.”

Emberley touched his cheek sweetly. “Good lad,” she whispered. “Hurry, now. Find him and help him.”

Romney was off, sprinting to the stairs that led down to the kitchen as Emberley rose from the bench and set the baby to her feet. She smoothed her surcoat, composing herself, preparing to do what she must to keep both her and Gart alive. She knew all of Julian’s men on sight and was preparing what she would say to them. They had come to take her to London and she would know why.

She was quite concerned, in truth, because any reason she could come up with was not a good one. With Brendt in one hand and Orin carrying Lacy, she made her way to the keep entry just in time to see one of Julian’s senior sergeants mount the stairs.

She couldn’t keep the dread from her heart as she watched the man approach.