As the bailey vacated the last noble visitors, William, Gavan, Daniel and Richmond settled wearily in the earl’s small solar for a debriefing conference. The talks, however, were limited to Gavan, Daniel and Richmond; since learning of his son’s mortal wound, William had been a numbed soul, clouded with grief.
The earl sat in his great carved chair, unfeeling and unblinking, drinking himself ill and staring into the depths of space as the world around him went along its way. It was not the mere fact that his son was dying; more than that, it was the fact that Lambourn was losing her heir. An eccentric heir was better than none at all as the de Lohr legacy loomed towards extinction.
After nearly an hour of small, weary talk and basic information, Mossy joined the group to inform them that Bartholomew was still hovering one step above death. Upon delivering the news to the catatonic earl, the old man wearily took a seat and helped himself to a large chalice of wine. Richmond eyed the aged crone, glad for the silent support as he prepared to delve into the true core of the situation.
“Although there is no doubt that Ovid attacked Lambourn in retaliation for Tad’s ambush, of which I am completely innocent, you should also know that something far more concerning has happened.”
William was still staring into the wall. Richmond braced his balled fists against the table, leaning on his arms as he focused on the earl. “William, you must hear me. Owen Glendower has discovered Arissa’s true identity. While we were preoccupied with de Rydal’s assault, two of his spies used it as a convenient cover to abduct Arissa. That was why Bartholomew was mortally injured; he was attempting to protect her from the Welshmen who had come to abduct her.
William appeared as if he hadn’t comprehended a single word. Daniel’s eyes widened while Gavan, in complete understanding, clenched his teeth with fury. When it became apparent that William was to remain non-responsive, Richmond opened his mouth in a final attempt to force the man to understand that there was far more going on than his son’s death impending death.
But William never gave him a chance. As if the impact of Richmond’s words settled deep, he leapt from his chair in a fit of shock and astonishment.
“Bart…. Bart was defending her?” he roared.
Even Richmond was taken aback by the tone, although he did not outwardly react. His gaze held steady. “Mossy witnessed the event. Bart was extremely brave, but badly outnumbered.” He did not bother to mention the fact that Lambourn’s heir lacked the necessary skills, too. Such a point was of no consequence at the moment.
William, however, did not seem the least bit mollified by the explanation. If anything, his face mottled a deeper shade of red. Spittle formed on his lips. As the men in the room watched, the Earl of Berkshire transformed from an intelligent, rational man into a being of unrestrained madness.
“Owen…. Owen came for Arissa and killed my son,” he muttered, nearly tripping over his chair as he moved away from the table. “And Ovid…. this is all her fault, Richmond. All of Tad’s actions were a direct result of his attraction for her and now my son is killed while trying to protect her from Henry’s enemies.” He raked his fingers through his thinning hair, his eyes wild as if everything suddenly became clear. “Everything that has happened this day has been her fault!”
Richmond faced him, his usually expressionless features gaining a degree of hostility. “That is simply untrue. Listen to yourself, William; your grief is speaking.”
“Nay!” William boomed, smashing his empty wine flask to splinters. “’Tis not madness in the least. Henry’s bastard has taken my son from me, as she’s very nearly destroyed my keep as well! This is all her doing!”
Richmond’s body was tense; Gavan rose from his chair, eyeing his liege warily. He’d never seen Richmond react in such a hostile fashion; the man had been issued endless challenges, verbal insults and the like, and had never once showed an outward reaction. To see his body coiled like a spring in the face of the earl’s ravings was disturbing to say the least.
“She had nothing to do with any of it,” Richmond’s calm voice did not betray his tight manner. “I forbid you to blame this catastrophe on her.”
“You forbid me?”
William was rapidly spinning out of control, his fatigue and grief decaying his sanity. He kicked at an unfortunate chair that happened to be in his path, reaching down to pick up the broken pieces and smashing them into kindling. Daniel was on his feet, flanking Richmond with an astonished expression as William descended into the darkened realm of madness. Even though the earl had never been particularly adept at controlling his emotions, he had never raged out of control as he was doing now. And all of it aimed at Arissa.
Richmond well knew that the earl’s rantings were that of a man gone temporarily insane, but he was nonetheless apprehensive of his attitude. William was using Arissa as a convenient excuse for his life suddenly gone wrong, the cause of his pain and sorrow because he had no one else to blame. His insanity was irrational and confusing.
But it did not excuse the insults dealt. As the candles burned slowly and the log fire crackled, the strain in the room grew to snapping proportions.
“William, calm yourself before you hurt someone,” Richmond said as steadily as he could manage. “You are not thinking clearly.”
William was in the process of snapping a piece of wood, grunting and huffing as he twisted and pulled. When the wood snapped sharply, he tossed it to the floor and stomped on it like a spoiled child.
“I always knew what could happen should Henry’s enemies discover her whereabouts,” he rasped, spreading his hands in a display of disbelief, imploring those present for answers to his agony. “Ovid supported Richard, for God sake. Do not you see? He’s siding with the Welsh rebellion. But you knew this else you would not have attacked Tad!”
Richmond’s jaw ticked. “I did not ambush Tad.”
“You did!” he accused. “Henry ordered you to disable his unfaithful, and you started with the de Rydal heir in hopes of wiping out the entire barony. With Tad gone, the legacy dies. All of this talk about defending Arissa’s honor was a ploy, a ploy invented by you to convince me that Tad de Rydal was a dishonorable man,” he suddenly stopped in the midst of his ravings and jabbed a thick finger at Richmond. “You wanted me to throw Tad from Lambourn so that you could do away with him and make it look as an ambush. You are to blame for this, Richmond. You have brought Henry’s war down upon us.”
Richmond sighed, passing a long glance at Gavan. The situation was moving from bad to worse, the rantings of a man far gone with grief clouding the issues. The further he spouted, the more apprehensive Richmond became.
“You are mad, William. I shall not listen to this nonsense any longer.”
William, his teeth clenched tightly, threw himself in Richmond’s path as the knight attempted to quit the solar. His chest was heaving with emotion and pure dementia, his foul breath cloaking the air.
“You and that bitch are to blame for my son’s death,” he rasped. “I shall gladly allow the Welsh bastards to have her so long as they leave us in peace.”
A massive hand shot out, grasping William around the throat. Gavan and Daniel leapt on Richmond as he shoved William back, back into the wall in a crash of armor and flesh. Pathetic grunts and the sounds of a struggle filled the small solar to the rafters, threatening to rupture the very walls.
Ignoring Gavan’s pleas for calm, Richmond focused on William. “You will listen to me and listen well,” he hissed. “I have been Arissa’s guardian for eighteen years and I will not hesitate to kill you if your threat is sincere. However, considering your grief, I will spare you for the moment,” even as Gavan and Daniel struggled to prevent him from strangling William, his grip tightened. “But hear me; I had nothing to do with Tad’s ambush, and Arissa had nothing to do with the attack upon Lambourn. She’s a victim in all of this, just as you and I are, and I shall not listen to your slander. Your son is dying because he showed an ounce of courage to defend a fragile, w
eak woman, and for no other reason than that. I will not allow you to cast the blame where it does not belong.”
In Richmond’s mighty grip, William labored to breath. Although somewhat subdued, his insanity was not diminished. If anything, it was growing.
“I…. I am an earl,” he rasped. “You will remove your hands under penalty of death!”
Richmond’s grip tightened slightly, his nostrils twitching with menacing flare. “And I am the guardian of royal blood. I will do what is necessary to protect her.”
With that, he released the heavy man. William collapsed forward onto his knees, gasping with every breath. Richmond turned away, moving for the door with Gavan on his heels. Only Daniel and Mossy remained, staring at William as if he were a creature from the unknown.
Daniel felt the sticky terror and it frightened him; swallowing hard, he glanced from William to Mossy and back again. He had no idea what to think, for the words he had heard coming forth between the earl and Richmond were staggering. A fairly simple man with simple thoughts, he could barely comprehend what he had heard.
As Richmond hit the threshold of the room, William coughed violently and cried out to him. “You will leave Lambourn and you will take her with you. If I see her again, I shall kill her!”
Richmond paused, his expression one of utter enmity. Gavan, directly behind him, put his hands against his friend to prevent him from killing the man. The mood filling the air was chaotic, completely erratic.
“No, Richmond,” Gavan commanded softly. “Let’s go. We shall leave this minute.”
As Gavan forcefully shoved Richmond from the solar and into the foyer, William began to pound his hands against the floor. His mad ravings turned to hysterical tears and he collapsed in a heap, clawing at the stone in his throes of grief.
“My son, my son,” he sobbed, spittle running from his mouth and onto the stone. “My legacy. All is lost without you.”
Over in the corner, Mossy drank the last of his wine. Not bothering to refill the chalice, he drained the entire flask.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bundled in layers of wool and covered with a heavy oiled tarp, Arissa sat beside one of Richmond’s soldiers on the bench of a wagon. Weeping softly, she hardly noticed Richmond and Gavan move their company of weary men through the battered front gates of Lambourn. Around her, the destroyed bailey was eerie and silent in the midst of the driving rain, but she ignored that as well. She could only focus on her grief.
Not an hour before she had been whisked from her cozy bed by Richmond. With barely a word, he commanded her to dress as warmly as possible while he and Gavan packed everything they could fit into a single large trunk. When she demanded to know what was amiss, her inquiry had been met with silence. And when Regine and Emma had come to the door to see how she was faring after her harrowing day, Richmond had barked them away so severely that Regine had burst into tears. Arissa could still hear her sister crying through the closed door.
It did not take an over amount of intelligence to realize they were leaving. But she hadn’t been permitted to say farewell to anyone and Richmond had carried her, puzzled and bewildered, from the warmth of her bower into the mess that had once been the bailey of Lambourn. As her bafflement wore thin, the tears of fright and disorientation came and she struggled with them even now as Richmond mounted his weary charger and ordered the wagon forward.
He reined his mount next to her as the rig exited the open gates, partially burned from the siege. Her pale green eyes fell on the thrashed panels of wood, turning to gaze at her cherished home as the wagon made way into the night. The tears fell harder and faster as she returned her gaze forward, mystified and sorrowful.
They were leaving, never to return. Even though he’d not said a word, she knew in her heart that she was seeing her last of her beloved Lambourn.
They were barely clear of the gates when Richmond reached out to touch her hand. Startled, not to mention suddenly furious with him for his silence and cruelty, she yanked her arm away. He did not say a word, nor did he look to her. After a moment, he simply drove his charger forward into the midst of the column.
She watched him from behind her soaked handkerchief, her fury rapidly fading. She resisted the urge to call out to him, to apologize for her flash of anger. But, Sweet St. Jude, she did not understand any of what had happened. Being swept from her warm bed and thrust out into the raining dead of night had left her rattled and bewildered.
Beyond her grief and disorientation was the deeply puzzling question as to where, exactly, was their intended destination. She suspected that Richmond was terribly uncomfortable now that the Welsh rebels knew the whereabouts of Henry’s illegitimate daughter. They would return for her as they promised, and Richmond had decided to move her immediately.
…. but move her where?
Another charger moved beside her, jolting her from her thoughts, and she found herself passing a long glance at Gavan. His visor was raised, keeping the rain off his face, and he smiled when their eyes met. But she was not ready to give into his kindness, either, and she lowered her red-swollen gaze. Gavan’s smile faded as his eyes lingered on her shrouded head; spurring his steed forward, he charged through the rain and mud to reach Richmond.
“Talk to her, Richmond,” he said softly. “She’s bewildered and hurt, and you are making it worse with your silence.”
Richmond ignored him. “I have sent a messenger to London to inform Henry of what has happened,” he told him. “I have instructed him to wait for a reply. Until and unless we have a different directive, it is my intention to take Arissa directly to Whitby. She will be safe there.”
Gavan nodded at the business-like reply. Richmond was being cold as only Richmond was capable of doing, like a great block of ice. No emotion, no feelings. Gavan cleared his throat softly.
“Agreed,” he said, shifting back to his original statement. “But you must tell her something. She’s understandably frightened.”
Slowly, Richmond shook his head. “Do you think she will want to hear that the only father she’s ever known has sworn to kill her on sight? How do you think she will feel when I tell her that William blames her for Bart’s injury?” he sighed heavily, ignoring the dripping water on his face. “I cannot bring myself to tell her those things. Any of it.”
“So you would allow her to cry herself ill while you refrain from explaining why she had to leave home?” Gavan closed his visor against the driving rain. “You are being cruel.”
Richmond’s head snapped to Gavan, his blue eyes blazing beneath his open visor. “I am sparing her feelings.”
“Not at all. You are hoping she will never question your reasons for abruptly leaving Lambourn, therefore, you will not voluntarily tell her the factors behind her departure,” his helmed head turned to his friend. “That’s not like you, Richmond. You have always been exceedingly honest and forthright.”
Richmond’s intense gaze lingered on his second a moment longer before turning away. After a heady pause, he let out a sharp sigh.
“You are right, of course. She’s to know, even if it is only a portion of the truth.”
Gavan eyed him for a moment. “’Tis understandable that you are afraid to tell her. You do not want to be the cause of her grief.”
“I loathe to be the cause of her grief.”
“But you do not seem to realize that you are causing her more grief with your silence.”
Richmond slanted the man an intolerant, nearly-mocking glance. “You are too damn wise for your own good, Hage. Get away from me; you have piqued my irritation because your wisdom exceeds mine.”
Gavan smiled. “’Tis time you come to realize my superiority.”
“Arrogant swine.” Richmond slammed his visor down, reining his charger towards the rear of the column where Arissa rode aboard the provisions wagon.
Arissa did not see him approach until mud suddenly splashed up from the road, pelting the heavy cloth across her lap. Directing his destrier next to t
he jostling wagon, he raised his visor, his weary face wet from the rain.
“I am sorry we had to leave in the middle of this storm,” he said quietly. “Are you comfortable?”
She did not say anything for a moment. Then, her angry, pale face glared at him from beneath her hood. “Why did we have to leave so suddenly? I did not even get to say farewell to anyone.”
His blue eyes were laced with fatigue, the shadowy stubble on his face speaking volumes of a man who hadn’t seen a moment’s rest since before dawn. He held her gaze for a lengthy pause.
“Because you are still my charge, Lady Arissa, and I deemed it necessary to leave Lambourn immediately to preserve your safety and possibly your life,” he sounded snappish. “In case you haven’t realized it, Lambourn is a battle zone and certainly no place for you. Furthermore, your natural father’s enemies have discovered your whereabouts and the sooner you leave, the better. Do you comprehend me?”
Her fury faded and she lowered her gaze, ashamed with her behavior. As always, he was only thinking of her best interests and she should not have become angry with him for doing what he must.
She wiped at her nose daintily. “But why couldn’t I even say good-bye?”
His compassion for her plight deepened, torn so brutally from her friends and family. His voice softened. “Because we could not spare the time. I am sorry, kitten. I truly am.”
She sniffled softly, wiping at her nose again. “I…. I am going to miss them terribly. I did not even have the chance to tell Penelope how sorry I was for her father’s death.”
He reached out to touch her hand; this time, she did not pull away and wound her fingers tightly around his massive gauntlet. “She knows how sorry you are, kitten. Do not fret so.”
They rode in silence for a few moments. The rain had lessened in intensity, although it was still quite wet. But there was a peace to the rain, a soothing quality that comforted and consoled weary soldiers and lady alike. Arissa listened to the rain, holding Richmond’s hand and feeling a measureable degree of tranquility. But the calming sounds did nothing to ease the apprehension for her future.