Page 145

Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 145

by Kathryn Le Veque


Clive lifted an eyebrow. “That the earl was somehow behind it?”

It was as good an answer as any. Now, the situation was falling in line and starting to make some sense. As the pondered the possibility, Ryan began to quiver from exhaustion and shock and Dennis gently coaxed her into lying down on the cot.

“One thing is for certain, Dennis,” Ryan said softly. “I must send the Launceston soldiers home. They will listen to me.”

Dennis did not like the idea. “Out of the question.”

Her golden brown eyes blazed. “Dennis, I must. They will not listen to you, nor any of your men. They will wait for my father or Douglas to make an appearance, and that is never going to happen. I will tell them something… anything… to send them on. They trust me.”

“You are the lady of St. Austell now.”

“It does not matter. Most of those men have watched me grow up. They know I am trustworthy.”

Dennis shook his head, but Clive spoke up. “She may be right, Dennis. It may be our only solution to getting them out of our bailey.”

A knock on the chamber door startled all three of them. Charlotte marched in, her gray eyes wide, appearing generally disheveled. She fixed on her brother.

“Do you mind telling me what in the hell is going on?” she demanded. Then she looked at Ryan. “Are you all right, Ryan? Did he hurt you?”

Ryan smiled faintly at her sister-in-law. “He did not hurt me, Charlotte,” her smile faded then. “But my father…”

Charlotte’s mannish features softened. “He’s dead. There was nothing I could do. I am sorry.”

Ryan already knew he was gone, but she dissolved in soft tears again nonetheless. Dennis kissed her forehead, murmured a few words to her, and then rose. While his wife cried quietly in the corner, Dennis pulled Charlotte and Clive into a private huddle.

“This is not at all good,” he muttered. “Even if Ryan is able to remove the Launceston army from the bailey, how long do you think it’s going to be before they figure out something is amiss? A week? Two? And then what? Do they attack us with our walls already damaged by the pirate?”

Charlotte was intense, while Clive was drawn and pensive. “We cannot rebuild our walls in a matter of weeks,” Charlotte said frankly.

Dennis knew that and lifted his eyebrows as if to acknowledge the obvious. “I need options. Do we have any?”

Clive shook his head. He already felt defeat. “If only we had a bigger army, or a greater authority to turn to for assistance. But the earl is the king’s brother. We would have to turn to the king himself for help and even though the earl and the king do not particularly get along, who is to say if the king would actually support us. ’Tis an exceptionally delicate situation we find ourselves in, Dennis.”

Dennis’ gray eyes were distant. His mind was whirling with possibilities and as he turned and gazed at Ryan’s mussed amber head, a thought occurred to him. St. Austell was his legacy, something that must be protected for his heirs and descendants to come. All he had wanted was peace for himself, his family, and now those plans had exploded in his face. St. Austell was on the verge of complete destruction, worse than he could have ever imagined. But Dennis would not give up; he had too much of his father in him to quit. He had a plan.

“I would wager that the king would give aid if I swore fealty to him and pledge myself to his cause in Wales.” He turned back to his astonished sister and knight. “St. Austell carries six hundred men and her reputation is superior. Surely the king would accept my allegiance and, in turn, St. Austell would become a garrison for the crown. That ought to prevent any further harassment from the Earl of Cornwall.”

Charlotte and Clive stared at him with slack jaws. “Are you mad?” Charlotte hissed. “Pledging us to fight in Wales?”

Dennis shook his head. “Not us, Charls. Me.”

Clive found his tongue. “What are you saying? That only you shall go and fight with the king, leaving the rest of us here to…?”

Dennis put his hand on Clive’s shoulder to calm him. A gentle smile crossed his lips. “Listen to me, both of you. If I pledge the entire St. Austell army to the Welsh campaign, it will mean that we will have to abandon the fortress and the king will most likely have the Earl of Cornwall station his own Launceston troops here, because the king himself has no men to spare. Consequently, if I alone go and pledge my services, it leaves St. Austell’s army here, intact, and my service for the king will ensure no more Launceston treachery. The earl cannot move against his brother or a garrison loyal to the king. That would constitute civil war and I am sure the earl has no intention of originating such a thing.”

Clive understood but Charlotte rolled her eyes dramatically. “You are mad!” she said. “St. Austell will lose her autonomy if you do this. We shall be a puppet for the crown.”

“You would rather be at Launceston’s mercy?”

“What you suggest will take time, Dennis,” Clive interjected. “It could be weeks before we will see the results. What will we do in the interim if Launceston, or even Miguel, decides to attack again?”

Dennis’ jaw was tense with determination. “I can reach London in a week. A swift messenger can be sent to Launceston bearing news that St. Austell is now the king’s garrison in less than that time. Within two weeks, the earl should know we are garrisoned.”

“Providing you are able to see the king immediately,” Clive shook his head. “It may take months.”

“Not if I demand that Rodrick d’Vant’s son wishes to speak with his cousin.”

Clive lifted an eyebrow. “You would actually do that?”

“If it would gain my end, of course.”

Charlotte had been out of the conversation far too long. “You are not only mad, you intend to shame us,” she spat. “Father would rather spit on his royal relations than acknowledge them, you know that!”

“I am not my father.”

“Christ, Dennis, that much is obvious. But by going to London and acknowledging our relations to Henry, you are acknowledging something vile and terrible. You are acknowledging our worst humiliation.”

Dennis remained calm even as his sister raved. “I understand that. But for something that has haunted our father and his father before him, perhaps now I can use it to our advantage.”

“My God! How can acknowledging a rape be of use?”

“If it will save St. Austell, I would acknowledge that we sprang from the Devil himself.” His gray eyes narrowed. “And perhaps we have. Certainly, Henry will not like to be reminded of it, and I’d wager my life that he would do much to accommodate my wishes. Remember, my dear sister, that our shame is the crown’s shame as well.”

Charlotte did not know what else to say. She turned away from him, furiously pacing. Ryan, much to Dennis’ distress, had stopped crying and was listening intently to the conversation. He did not want her to know of his plans until he was able to tell her in a more private, calm setting. But Charlotte, in her usual melodramatic fashion, would make sure there were no secrets as she stomped about the small chamber.

“You married the Lady of Launceston,” she pointed at Ryan. “This fine allegiance you promised us has failed miserably, and now you add to that failure by shaming our family and plotting your own death on the battlefields of Wales? What is this foolishness that has consumed you, Dennis?”

Ryan pushed herself up on the cot, her body quaking and her face pale. But her expression at Charlotte was menacing. “You will not speak to him in that manner,” she growled. “Dennis’ intentions were noble. Had those at Launceston possessed the same nobility, your brother’s plan for peace would have been successful.”

Charlotte wasn’t trying to be belligerent, but she was truly outraged. And, if she thought on it, her primary motivation was her fear for her brother’s safety and for the safety of St. Austell.

“You want him to die in Henry’s foolish Welsh campaign?” she fired back softly. “Or don’t you understand anything of what’s been sa
id?”

Ryan was sitting up, fully prepared to take Charlotte on. “I understand that Dennis’ sense of self-sacrifice is something you know nothing of,” she said flatly. “He’s trying to save your home, for God’s sake, and all you can do is fight him. If you’d stop running your mouth and use your head, perhaps you’d see something beyond your own selfishness.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to reply, but threw her hands up in frustration instead. Dennis moved between his sister and his wife, planting himself on the cot beside Ryan. “Do not work yourself into a fret,” he said quietly. “There has been many a time when Charlotte’s selfishness has caused me to see the light.”

“But not this time, Dennis.”

He shook his head slowly. “No, love, not this time.”

Ryan was so very weak, and the last thing she needed at the moment was a family feud. She turned her golden-brown eyes on Dennis, and suddenly he saw the raw emotion within. “The last thing I want you to do is fight in Wales,” she murmured. “Now that I have found you, I hardly want to lose you. But you are absolutely right; Launceston is intent on destroying St. Austell. We are in tremendous trouble right now, with my father… gone and Launceston troops in the bailey. If the king can help us… then perhaps we must make a difficult decision to ensure St. Austell’s future.”

She was a rational, intelligent creature and Dennis realized anew why he loved her so. Her support was everything he could have hoped for and nothing less than he had expected. Kissing the tip of her pert nose, he turned to his sister. Nothing she could tell him mattered, so long as he and Ryan were unanimous in their thoughts.

“Do you have anything more to say, Charls?”

Charlotte was pale, clearly upset by the events of the past few minutes. But her gaze moved between her brother and her brother’s wife, and she could see how united and determined they were. It would do no good for her to argue. Her outrage turned to exasperation.

“Dennis,” she begged quietly. “Surely there must be another way. Why must you sacrifice yourself?”

“What else would you suggest we do?”

Charlotte knew she did not have an answer. She glanced at Clive for support, but the knight chewed his lip furiously and looked away. He did not have any answers, either. Charlotte sighed, feeling an overwhelming sense of defeat. She paced to the lancet window, the only one in the room, and watched the colors of Launceston mill about in the bailey far below. It was a sobering sight.

“We were better off before you married her,” she finally said, without malice. “It’s as if your wife is somehow an angel of death sent to destroy us. As bad as things were when we battled Launceston, now at peace we seem to be far worse.”

Dennis looked at Ryan, putting his arm around her and giving her a squeeze as if to comfort her. “Ryan did not do this, Charls. You know that.”

Charlotte nodded. “I know. And much as I hate to admit it, the little minx has grown on me. But I still say things were better before she came.”

“Do you want me to give her back?”

Charlotte looked at him, the cold gray light from the window illuminating half of her mannish face. She broke into a crooked grin. “As if you would,” she snorted. “They do not want her back, not if they have sent someone to murder her father, a man who is very important to their cause. More treachery abounds at Launceston than I can possibly comprehend. She would not be safe there.”

Ryan could sense genuine affection in Charlotte’s tone and for the first time since her arrival, she felt as if she was truly a part of St. Austell. It was a wonderful feeling and she was determined to do her part to protect her new family. Slowly, she rose to unsteady feet as Dennis rose beside her, supporting her. She smiled weakly at her husband.

“I must go now and order the Launceston soldiers home,” she said. “What should I tell them?”

Charlotte went to Ryan’s other side and insisted on helping support her weak body. Dennis smiled at his sister, so wracked with emotion, so unused to showing kindness. Ryan was correct; she was a selfish person. But at this moment of crisis and chaos she was trying very hard not to be.

He glanced back to his wife. “Tell them that your father and de Lohr have decided to extend their visit, alone, and that the support of the troops is no longer necessary,” he said as Charlotte nodded her head in silent agreement. “Tell them… tell them that with Miguel on the prowl, it is your father’s wish that they return home to protect the earl.”

Ryan’s golden-brown eyes were intense and he could read the anxiety she was attempting to conceal. “Will you stand beside me as I do this?”

“Absolutely. I will insist, as the lord of St. Austell, that their presence is no longer required.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“Let us pray that it does.”

“And then… then we must bury my father.”

“I promise we shall take the best of care with him, Ryan. You have my word.”

Ryan moved for the door with Dennis and Charlotte practically carrying her. Clive brought up the rear, chewing his lips into bloody oblivion. He hadn’t had much to say, mostly because he knew it would be ignored anyway. When Charlotte and Dennis started arguing, all else seemed to fade away. Now all that mattered was removing the Launceston troops; after that, they could discuss Dennis’ intentions until they were sick of the subject.

Clive knew from experience that Dennis would not change his mind.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Charging in to St. Austell’s outer bailey as daylight turned to dusk, Riston didn’t think it looked any different from when he had left it. Part of the north wall was still down, soldiers had sent up temporary camps in the outer bailey, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that Launceston troops had set up an encampment of their own. He wondered what would happen when he confronted de Bretagne and his bulldog of a knight, de Lohr. He fully intended to tell Dennis that the men had thrown him in the vault and only by Lyla’s bravery had he managed to make it back.

It was sure to be a scene, he thought, as he passed into the inner bailey. Villagers had set up shacks and lean-tos amongst the mud and uneven ground. It looked like a squatter’s camp and the smell was so strong that his eyes watered. Raw sewage ran in hastily dug canals near the southern wall.

Lyla sat behind him, clinging to him wearily as they made their way towards the keep. The horse was hot and frothy, and by the time they reached the keep, Lyla nearly fell off the horse in her attempt to dismount. Riston climbed off behind her and took her by the arm.

“Come along,” he said softly.

The keep was open because dozens of St. Austell soldiers were living in the great hall. It smelled nearly as bad as the encampment outside. Riston was rather shocked to see such conditions and he looked around for Clive or Charlotte but, not seeing them, he continued to the upper floor and pulled Lyla along behind him.

The living quarters were quiet for the most part, but he could see movement in the smaller chamber that Charlotte sometimes occupied. The door was cracked slightly and voices were coming from within. Hesitantly, he opened the door and was greeted by Dennis, Charlotte, Clive, Ryan, and a small man who appeared to be forcing Lady d’Vant to drink something. He shoved the door open wide.

“What goes on here?” Riston demanded. “Where are the knights from Launceston?”

His booming voice startled everyone in the room. Charlotte even grabbed for her dagger. But when they saw who it was, the room of the chamber immediately changed. Lyla, standing behind Riston, rushed past him and straight to Ryan, falling to her knees beside the bed.

“Are you well, Ryan?” she demanded, verging on sobs. “Do you feel well?”

Ryan grasped Lyla’s hands, attempting to calm the woman who looked worn out and ragged. “I am well,” she said, a lump in her throat. “My father… he… he…”

“Oh, Ryan,” Lyla burst into tears. “Uncle Richard has done something terrible!”

Startled, Ryan looke
d at Dennis, who gazed at his wife with some sadness and disappointment, suspecting what Lyla was going to say. He looked at Riston.

“What has happened?” he asked, his voice low. “What happened at Launceston?”

Riston sighed heavily; he was so weak and weary that he was close to collapse. “The lady and I could use some food,” he muttered, looking around for a chair and finally finding a stool. “There is much to tell.”

Charlotte went to find a servant as Dennis moved closer to his exhausted friend. “Tell me.”

Riston wiped a weary hand over his face. “Treachery abounds at Launceston,” he said, shaking his head with disbelief and sorrow. “As soon as I arrived at Launceston seeking assistance, the earl had one his knights throw me in the vault.”

“Which one?”

“De Lohr.”

Dennis glanced at Clive, a rather knowing glance, before returning his focus to Riston. “Go on.”

Riston sighed heavily. “I was not given the courtesy of knowing why I was a prisoner,” he said. “Lady Lyla was brave enough to release me and just as we were preparing to flee, the earl caught us. He said so many strange things, Dennis. He called Thomas de Bretagne a traitor. Where is the man? I must find out what the earl meant.”

It was Dennis’ turn to sigh heavily. He shook his head, his expression ripe with sorrow. “Earlier today, de Bretagne was preparing to tell me something, something very grave,” he said. “He had hinted the contents to Ryan, but before we could speak he was murdered by de Lohr. When de Lohr turned his sword on Ryan, I was forced to kill him. Truthfully, I have no idea what is transpiring at Launceston, but with the clues I have been given I suspect it has something to do with Miguel the Pirate. I suspect the earl is somehow behind his attack on St. Austell.”

Riston was astonished. “Is this true?” he breathed. “The earl is still seeking to destroy us in spite of agreeing to a peace treaty?”

Dennis nodded, looking over at his wife to see that she was huddled with her cousin on the bed. “Our treaty with Launceston is null,” he muttered. “Now I find I must protect my wife from a man she has known all of her life. He must view her as a traitor as well.”