Page 97

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T he armory at Bellham was a busy place at any given time considering the de Lohr war machine and the variety of battles it tended to support. But this evening was different.

The mood was thick with anticipation, with deadly fury, as the knights of David de Lohr’s ranks prepared for battle. Silver moonlight streamed in through the lancet windows that allowed a small amount of light and air into the armory, a thickly built room in the lower ground floor of Bellham.

It was a basement, a hole of death, packed with weapons and fighting men. Even the baron was there, his squires strapping the plate armor on his legs and chest, armor of the latest style. As David adjusted the hauberk on his head, standing still as the boys finished with his leg protection, his eyes were focused on Gart.

Gart was near the door that led from the armory and headed up to the rear of the manse. He kept his armor and weapons near the door, always, so he could get to them quickly. Even now, he dressed alone, as was his custom, a man who was adept and faster than most efficient squires at donning his own armor and protection. He dressed silently, his custom mail coat hanging snug and heavy on his broad body, his iron-like expression even harder than usual. In the darkness of the armory, in the shadows of the smoking torches, Gart looked like the Devil himself as he prepared for battle.

David knew how coiled the man was. He hadn’t taken his eyes off him since they had received the messenger from Trelystan regarding Lady Emberley’s abduction. Although the messenger had been ahead of the escort bearing Lady Emberley and her son, he was sure they were no more than a day behind him, which meant they were probably six hours out of London at the moment. That was, of course, providing they had slowed their pace to accommodate the lady and the boy. There was no guarantee they had. So David had ordered his knights to battle with Gart leading the way. They were going to intercept that escort and retrieve the lady and her son.

Gart hadn’t said more than two words since receiving the news. It was as if he were afraid to speak, afraid to let himself go. The “Forbes Wall” was up, surrounding and protecting him, an invincible barrier that would keep Gart in and protected until the sach , the madness, was released. David had no doubt they would see a greater madness tonight than they had ever seen before. He was a little leery, truth be told. He wanted to keep a close eye on the man.

When his squires finished adjusting the straps on his leg protection, David gathered his broadsword and scabbard and made his way to Gart across the busy armory chamber. Kevin was standing near Gart, dressing, his gaze locking with David’s as the man made his way across the room. Kevin held David’s gaze for a moment before guiltily lowering his eyes and returned to securing his scabbard. David’s eyes lingered on the man’s lowered head, knowing he felt responsible for this mess. Gart hadn’t blamed the man in the least, but still, Kevin felt a tremendous amount of guilt.

“Ready?” David asked Gart as he approached the man.

Gart nodded, finished with the strap on his sheath. “Aye, my lord.”

David’s gaze moved over the man. He was the heart of the de Lohr war machine, invincible, the perfect knight. Standing before him in his mail and loaded down with weapons, he was indeed a fearsome sight.

“It is my feeling that since the escort is returning from the Marches, they are more than likely taking the road that leads from Gloucester through Ealing,” he told Gart. “We will take Kew Road through Ealing and meet them upon the main road that leads into London.”

Gart nodded shortly, tucking one last dirk into his plate armor where he could get at it. David could feel the tension rising off the man like steam. He knew when Gart shifted into battle mode, for he was the perfect killing machine. No emotion, no mistakes. But he could also be singularly focused and David hastened to remind him of what he already knew. This was no ordinary skirmish they were preparing for.

“Gart,” he lowered his voice. “Remember that above all else, we must make sure to remove the lady and the boy without injury. We must be careful and calculated.”

Gart looked sharply at him, the intense eyes flickering with confusion, then anger. “Do you think I would blindly attack the escort in a rage, my lord?”

David shook his head. “Nay,” he said firmly. “But I believe the best course of action for you would be to target the lady and her son. We will take care of the escort. You must get the lady and the boy free of the fighting.”

Gart’s gaze flickered again, this time, with resistance. “I will have my vengeance, my lord.”

David shook his head again. “Not on an escort party,” he said quietly. “They are simply doing as they are ordered. If there is any revenge to be sought, seek it against Buckland when all of this is over. And remember that what we do tonight could jeopardize Father St. John’s attempts to convince Buckland and Isabella that Buckland should divorce his wife. We must be very careful.”

After a moment, Gart seemed to relax somewhat, seeing David’s point of view. He sighed heavily.

“We cannot leave any witnesses, you know this,” he muttered. “If we leave anyone alive, they will run back to Buckland and tell him that de Lohr forces attacked them and took the lady. Then Buckland will be back on you like flies to honey.”

“We wear no colors. They will not know it is my men.”

Gart lifted an eyebrow. “You are in the middle of it, my lord. Unless you want to remain at Bellham and let me lead the raid, I am afraid you have very distinctive armor and a very distinctive sword. The de Lohr hilt is well known.”

David scratched his cheek reluctantly, knowing Gart was correct but not entirely sure about the murder raid. His thought was to simply retrieve the lady from the escort party with the least amount of bloodshed possible. But Gart had a point. As David rethought his strategy, a fully-armed soldier suddenly appeared in the armory entry. The man went straight to David.

“My lord,” he said briskly. “The Earl is sighted.”

David’s eyebrows lifted. “My brother? How close is he?”

“They are upon us, my lord.”

David passed Gart a long look before bolting from the armory. Gart grabbed his helm and went in pursuit, as did de Lara and the other knights that were donning their gear. Soon the armory was emptied of fighting men, leaving the squires to pick up the remainder of the armor and weapons that had been left behind, but the boys soon began bolting from the chamber as well.

The entire group of knights, squires and soldiers raced to the front of the manse where horses and grooms await, and great torches burned deep into the black of the night. As David came around the front of the building, he could see an army approaching from the great drive that led to the front gates. He could hear the horses making noise and the armor and men grinding and grating after a long ride from Hereford. He hadn’t seen his brother in months and it would seem the man had arrived on a most opportune night.

The Earl of Hereford had come.

*

“The longer we delay, the more chance there is of Lady de Moyon’s escort slipping past us and on into London,” David explained patiently. “I have explained the seriousness of the situation to you. I am not sure why you want to discuss it further.”

Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and Worcester, was weary after his five-day ride from his seat, Lioncross Abbey, near the Welsh borders. He was two years older than his brother, an enormous man that was taller than his brother by several inches, with a full head of blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He had the same sky blue eyes as David and a square-jawed, excruciatingly handsome appearance. But it was his reputation as a fighting man that all men knew and feared, his brother and Gart no exceptions. They both had a healthy respect for the man and his abilities. He was a hell of a warrior.

In spite of his warring reputation, he was an exceedingly calm and level-headed man. David tended to be the hothead in the family, the rash one, and Christopher was collected and wise. But at the moment, having heard his brother’s explanation as to why seventy de Lohr men were mobilized and preparing for battle, his normally-calm demeanor was wavering. He was struggling with his composure.

“Let me make sure I understand this,” Christopher dragged a weary hand over his face. “I have brought seven hundred men with me from Lioncross with the intention of supplying Baron Buckland with troops to support his efforts in France only to discover that my alliance with Buckland has been destroyed because Forbes had an illicit affair with Buckland’s wife?”

He made the situation sound horrible and despicable. David shook his head strongly.

“You are simplifying the circumstances,” he said. “It is much more complex than that. Gart knew Lady de Moyon as a child. They were reacquainted when we went to Dunster Castle, may I remind you, at your request. While we were there, Julian went mad, accusing Gart of seducing his wife. I can vouch that the man did nothing of the sort.”

Christopher interrupted him, throwing an arm in the direction of the manse courtyard. “Then why are you mobilizing seventy soldiers to go and rescue Lady de Moyon from a Buckland escort?”

He sounded angry, unusual dynamics between the two brothers. David didn’t dare look at Gart, standing strong and silent near the door. He wanted to keep his brother’s focus, and his anger, directed at him.

“Because Buckland is insane, unpredictable and dangerous,” he maintained his calm. “While we were at Dunster, he struck his wife in front of us. He then proceeded to beat the woman nearly to death. I gave Gart permission, as an old friend of the family, to remain behind after the army left and make sure Lady de Moyon was nursed back to health. Gart is not to blame for succumbing to a woman he had always known and been fond of. She is abused and married to a monster. Naturally, he feels protective of her. He loves her.”

Christopher waited for more explanation to come forth but when nothing more was said, he lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “She is married to a baron.”

“The man is a beast.”

Christopher threw his hands up. “It does not matter and you know it,” he insisted. “My alliance with de Moyon is too valuable to lose because your knight cannot control his lust for the man’s wife.”

David could see that the conversation was only going to get worse. He turned to Gart, still lingering in the shadows.

“Get out,” he told him.

Gart didn’t hesitate. He quit the solar and shut the door behind him. In fact, he was glad to go, afraid that if he had stayed any longer, his temper would have gotten the better of him and it wouldn’t do his cause any good to show disrespect to the earl.

Christopher was usually much more level-headed than his brother but, like David had in the beginning, he didn’t understand that this wasn’t a simple case of adultery. As Gart had explained it, his relationship with Emberley had never felt like that. It had been a simple matter of a man and woman loving each other deeply. Betrayal didn’t even enter into it.

He stood outside the door for several minutes, listening to them argue. The longer Gart stood there, the more frustrated and anxious he became. Every moment they delayed added to the possibility that Emberley and the escort would slip by them and into London.

There, Julian would be waiting for her and he knew for a fact that Julian would not allow her to survive the night. He knew the man would beat her to death for her disobedience. Gart’s palms began to sweat and his heart to race. If he had the choice of disobeying his liege or saving Emberley’s life, he would choose Emberley every time. He simply couldn’t wait any longer.

As the de Lohr brothers argued, Gart slipped off into the night.