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CHAPTER TWELVE

A fter hiding out in the buttery until Romney was able to safely smuggle Gart through the postern gate, Gart fled to the forest south of Dunster sometime in the late afternoon. It was perfect cover in the heavily foliaged area. Shielded by the big oaks, he found a good vantage point from where he could watch the castle and spent the rest of the daylight watching the activity.

Everything at the fortress seemed normal. There were no groups of scouts running about and no real activity on the wall to speak of. Satisfied that no alarm had been raised by either his presence or escape, he was fairly convinced that Julian’s party would depart sometime the next morning. Leaving the shelter of the trees, Gart regrouped with his men in town just after sunset. The town of Carhampton had several hostel establishments and they found a moderately large tavern and settled in.

Morose and moody, Gart drowned himself in cup after cup of ale while his men ate and played games of dice. Gart sat in the corner, watching his men, thinking on Emberley and the children and growing increasingly despondent. He had been living such a fool’s dream for the past seven weeks, hidden away from the world. But reality had come fast and heavy, and he was still reeling. He wasn’t ready to face it yet. He was so depressed he could hardly function.

The evening rolled on, people came and went from the smoky, smelly inn. Whores in the guise of serving wenches came by his table, offering him more drink and a suggestion of nocturnal activities, but Gart chased them away with his stony expression and disinterested manner. He couldn’t stop thinking of Emberley’s sweet body, of her smile, her gentle wit. Watching his men retreat from the inn with whores in their arms only fueled his loneliness. He missed Emberley desperately.

By midnight, he had imbibed copious amounts of alcohol and was fairly drunk but he didn’t particularly care. He hoped it would make him pass out long enough to forget the torment in his heart. As midnight came and went, the inhabitants of the inn grew drunker around him and a few fights ensued. At one point, a pair of combatants came near his table and Gart lashed out an enormous boot, sending the pair flying. Once they regained their balance, they turned on him but one look at the enormous, drunk knight and they decided a counterattack would not be wise. They moved on to easier targets.

Finishing off his fourth large pitcher of ale, Gart finally sat with an empty cup, staring off into the room and wondering if he should try to get some sleep. He hadn’t passed out yet and that disturbed him. Several of his men were still involved in a heated game of dice near the hearth and he listened to their cheers and jeers, bored and miserable. As he was summoning the will to find the innkeeper and secure a room for the night, the front door to the inn flew open, slamming back on its hinges.

Gart looked over, disinterested, until he saw that it was Kevin. Startled, he sat forward in his chair, his eyes wide on the man. Kevin caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to catch sight of Gart. Before Gart could say a word, Kevin abruptly quit the inn and the door slammed shut behind him. Greatly puzzled and deeply concerned, Gart rose on unsteady legs and began to make his way over to the door. He hadn’t quite reached the panel when it flew open again. Kevin was there, followed by Emberley and the children.

Shocked, Gart’s reaction was to throw his arms around Emberley, who was carrying the sleeping Lacy. Emberley returned his furious kisses, tasting the ale on his lips.

“Gart!” she gasped as he smothered her face with kisses. “Are you well?”

He was very drunk and very emotional. An enormous hand went to her face, cupping it, while the other affectionately grasped Orin and Brendt.

“I am fine,” he kissed her again. “What are you doing here? How did you escape Buckland’s escort?”

Emberley could see how drunk he was. She was exhausted, frightened and more than shocked to see Gart’s physical state. She had been looking for a rock to cling to at the end of her harrowing flight from Dunster and was stunned to see that Gart was less than strong. She passed a long glance at Kevin before replying.

“It was not difficult considering they are all asleep from their long ride from London,” she gestured at Kevin. “Sir Kevin came to me with a plan this afternoon and we plotted our escape. We slipped from the postern gate an hour ago. The trouble was in finding you– we have been to four inns tonight already. We did not know where you had gone but we knew you would not have gone far.”

He kissed her cheeks, her lips. “I could not go far away from you, not ever,” he breathed, then looked at Kevin. “I can never thank you enough for risking yourself for me. I am deeply indebted to you.”

Kevin’s eyes glimmered impishly. “Aye, you are, and someday you will repay me handsomely.”

Gart grinned at the man, both of them knowing that Gart would indeed pay his debt and then some. The bond of a knight was strong that way. Gart’s attention moved back to Emberley when a strong, chill breeze gusted in through the open door.

“Bring the children inside by the fire, kitten,” he told her. “It is too cold here by the door.”

He started herding the sleepy children over to the hearth but Kevin stopped him. “We need to get clear of Dunster,” he told him. “Buckland’s men are asleep and that will buy us time until morning. We must leave immediately.”

Gart was struggling with his inebriation. He wasn’t thinking particularly clearly. “But the children need to sleep. Surely they are allowed a few hours of rest before we whisk them off to the Marches.”

Kevin could see that Gart was fairly far gone with alcohol. “They can sleep on the road,” he told him. “I brought your charger and mine but little else. We must ride for the Marches tonight.”

“How did you remove my charger from the stables? He bites anything that moves.”

Kevin kept looking around the room nervously. He was still in escape mode and feeling frustrated that Gart didn’t feel his sense of urgency.

“It was not easy but I managed it,” he told him. “I loaded all of your possessions, at least what we could find in your chamber. But there is no more time to delay, Gart. We must leave this moment. Do you understand me?”

Gart rubbed at his eyes, struggling to focus. When he opened his red-rimmed orbs, he could see the expression on Emberley’s face. There was fear and disillusionment there. He’d never seen that expression before and knew he didn’t like it. He suddenly felt very self-conscious and weak, and it was enough to shock him into a semblance of sobriety. He didn’t like the look of disappointment in her eyes. He never wanted to see it again.

“I do,” he nodded his head, rubbing his eyes again and focusing on Emberley. “Forgive me. You have found me doing the cowardly thing by drowning my sorrows in ale. I was so distressed after leaving this afternoon that… well, suffice it to say that I was attempting to ease my pain. Forgive me, kitten. I did not mean to disappoint you.”

Emberley softened, sighing faintly as she put a hand to his cheek, which he kissed fervently. “You did not,” she said. “But I am rather surprised to see you so drunk.”

Gart lifted a lazy eyebrow in agreement. “Had I known you and de Lara would plan an escape, I would not have consumed every bit of ale in this place. I think I drank enough to fill a pond.”

At his feet, Romney giggled. He looked at the boy, his eyes half-lidded, weaving dangerously. “Do you find that humorous, little man?”

Romney nodded firmly. “Can I get drunk, too?”

Gart made a face at him. “You may not,” he rumbled, returning his attention to Emberley. “Already, I can feel my head pounding and it is not even the morrow. Let us ride before it grows any worse and my head falls off completely.”

In spite of everything, Kevin had to grin at the man. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“We have no choice.”

“True, but it would not do for you to fall off and crack your skull.”

Gart snorted. “I swear that I will not fall off.” He picked up Brendt when the child leaned against his leg, whining and rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Let us leave this place and never look back.”

With that, he turned to a few of his men standing on the outskirts of the room and ordered them to gather the rest and meet at the southeast edge of town. As his men began to collect, he and Kevin took Emberley and the children out into the night.

It was cold and damp outside, a soft sea breeze wafting in the air. With Brendt now sleeping on his big shoulder, Gart listened to Kevin as the man ran through the list of what he was able to slip from Dunster– Gart’s saddlebags, weapon, and most of his armor. Emberley had packed two large bags with items for her and the children, everything she could squeeze into the two satchels. Kevin also had a saddlebag that contained foodstuffs and other assorted items, as did Gart, but they realized that they were going to have to purchase a wagon or other means of transportation by the time they reached a safe distance. Right now, they were fleeing with what they could carry. It had to be swift and light.

Kevin mounted his blond charger and Gart handed him Romney and Orin– Orin sat to the front and Romney sat to the back. The boys both thought it was great fun riding on a charger and Gart even heard Romney try to coerce a dirk off of the knight just in case they needed to fight their way out of the village. It was just a ruse because Orin started rifling through one of the bags thrown across the front of the saddle.

Drunk or not, Gart saw what they were up to and snapped his fingers at the boys. They immediately ceased all covert activities at the sharp noise, eyes wide with feigned innocence. As Gart cast a lingering glare at Romney, Kevin puffed out his cheeks.

“They tried to rob me this afternoon when I entered the keep to speak with their mother,” he said casually.

Gart sighed heavily. “Did they succeed?”

Romney interrupted, afraid that Gart would become angry with him. “We gave it back,” he insisted. “Mother made us.”

Gart pointed a finger at him. “I told you no more robbing,” he said sternly. “You and I will have words about this later.”

“Gart?” Orin called.

Gart looked at him. “What is it, Orin?”

“We will not do it again, I promisth.”

Kevin fought off a smirk as both boys appeared contrite, fearful and defiant at the same time. Orin even gave Gart an innocent smile with his missing two front teeth but Gart didn’t believe him for a minute. Casting the boys a final intimidating glance, he took Lacy from Emberley, who mounted Gart’s black and white charger on her own since Gart had two sleeping toddlers on his shoulders. She took Lacy once she settled herself in the saddle and Gart handed Brendt up to her as well. Then he mounted, settling in behind her and wrapping a big arm around her as she held the sleeping babies.

Gart was feeling the sense of urgency now, struggling to shake off the alcohol. He had what he wanted and he would get them all clear of Dunster or die trying. He managed to pull an oilcloth from his saddlebags, one he usually used when it rained, and covered up Emberley and the sleeping children. Only Emberley’s head remained above the cloth. Properly covered and secure, Kevin and Gart spurred their chargers towards the southeast end of town where they would meet up with the rest of Gart’s men.

The die was now cast and there was no turning back. The moment Gart mounted Emberley and the children, he had chosen his path in life and it would not be an easy one. Whatever was to come, he was prepared to face it. He would lie, kill, cheat or steal if it meant keeping Emberley and the children safe. All that mattered was they were together, come what may. He wondered if Erik would have seen it the same way.

Swords at the ready and the men on high alert, they embarked into the dark and misty night, heading for the dangerous Welsh Marches.