Page 146

Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 146

by Kathryn Le Veque


Riston couldn’t disagree. A servant entered the chamber, bearing a tray of cheese, bread, and wine, and Riston made sure Lyla was served first before he took a measure. The wine was cheap, the bread gritty, and the cheese barely edible, but at least it was something. As he chewed, he turned to Dennis.

“What do you intend to do now?” he asked. “The fortress is compromised and Launceston has chosen to violate the peace accord. If they attack us again, we will fall.”

Dennis’ jaw ticked as he thought on the dismal future. “I realize that,” he said. “I believe I have a solution. I am riding for the king with a proposal. I will pledge my services to him for his wars in Wales if he will garrison St. Austell and station troops here. The earl wouldn’t dare attack a garrison of the crown.”

Riston’s eyes widened. “Is this so?” he asked. “You intend to do this?”

“It is the only way.”

Riston glanced at Clive and at Charlotte, and he could see their unhappy faces. He could only imagine the lively conversation that must have gone on when Dennis proposed his plan. Truth be told, he thought it made a good deal of sense. Dennis had a point. Rather than argue with him, he simply nodded his head.

“I agree,” he said. “Moreover, I shall attend you when you go.”

Dennis shook his head. “Nay, Rist. I want you here looking after my wife. This is a task for me and me alone.”

Riston downed an entire cup of wine, smacking his lips. “There is nothing to discuss,” he said frankly. “I am going with you. If you deny me, I will follow you. I will show up at every stop you make, at every inn, at every hovel, and at every hut, and will sing love songs to you like a love-struck squire. I will make everyone think we are lovers until you have to accept my company or die of shame. Is this in any way unclear?”

Dennis was trying not to laugh. “You bastard.”

Riston nodded patiently. “I realize that,” he said. “Is this in any way unclear?”

Dennis made a face and rolled his eyes. He knew that Riston was perfectly capable of carrying out his threat. “Christ, I hate you right now.”

“I know. When do we leave?”

“Two days. Three at most.”

“Excellent,” Riston replied. “I shall be ready.”

Dennis just growled and turned away, only to be met by Charlotte and Clive’s outraged expressions. When Dennis saw their faces, he threw up his hands.

“Do you want to follow me around like a lovesick squire?” he asked the pair.

Clive snorted while Charlotte just looked away, offended. Dennis could see that she was still very upset about the entire situation. He made his way over to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Someone has to stay here and watch over St. Austell and my wife,” he said. “I am allowing Riston to go with me simply to keep him out of trouble. Please, Charls… what I ask of you is far more important.”

Charlotte still wasn’t over her insult but she nodded shortly. Dennis slapped her gently on the shoulder and moved back over to the bed where his wife and her cousin sat. He watched the pair pick at the bread and cheese that had been brought to them, his mind moving to the other pressing matter; that of Launceston’s troops. They had been preparing to move forward with the plans they had discussed earlier in the day when Riston and Lyla’s arrival had interrupted them. Now, they had to push forward. They had to remove the army that threatened them.

“Now,” he said, hands on his slim hips. “We must remove Launceston’s troops from the bailey once and for all. We shall do it whenever you are ready.”

Ryan looked up from the cheese in her hands. Truth be told, she was feeling some trepidation. She knew the sooner they removed the troops, the safer for them all. She took a deep breath for courage.

“If you will help me change from these bedclothes, I shall do it now,” she said.

Dennis agreed, but not before he made sure the bodies of Thomas and Douglas were removed from the master’s chambers and the floors wiped of all blood. He didn’t want any reminders plaguing his wife when she returned to their bower.

Thomas and Douglas were cleaned and wrapped, and were placed in the cold storage area beneath the keep until a decision could be made about where to bury them. Ryan, dressed in her finest and with her hair combed, was able to convince the Launceston troops to return home without Thomas or Douglas, based purely on the fact that she was able to charm the sergeant in charge; a man whom had known her most of her life. It had been a tricky operation, but it had worked. Launceston’s troops weren’t the wiser.

By morning the following day, the two hundred men from Launceston were returning home, and everyone at St. Austell breathed a massive sigh of relief.

*

“What do you mean Thomas and de Lohr did not return with you?” the earl demanded. “Where are they?”

The sergeant in charge of the army Thomas had taken with him to St. Austell stood in the entry of Launceston’s keep. He hadn’t even made it to the earl’s solar before the man was demanding his knights. The sergeant tried to explain to the earl what had been explained to him by Lady Ryan.

“According to Sir Thomas’ daughter, Lady d’Vant, both her father and Sir Douglas had gotten into some trouble that had them both confined to bed,” he said.

Richard’s eyebrows lifted. “What trouble?”

“She did not say, my lord,” he replied. “She stated that she was tending them both and they would be returning to Launceston shortly. She further informed me that St. Austell no longer required aid and asked me to return to Launceston.”

The earl was astonished. “And you came?”

“Of course I did, my lord. Lady Ryan asked it of me.”

The earl just stood there, gaping at him. His confusion, his outrage, was building inside of him so that when he finally spoke, it all came out as one big explosion.

“She asked you?” he bellowed. “Good God, man! Where is Douglas?”

“I told you, my lord, he…”

“I know what you told me,” the earl snapped, waving his arms at the man and finally shoving him out of the keep. “Get out, I say. Get out and stay out!”

The sergeant nearly fell as the earl shoved him out. Richard slammed the great entry door behind him, twitching with fury as he made his way back into his solar. He slammed that door, too, for good measure.

They had all disobeyed him; every one of those he trusted had betrayed him. He was mad with frustration because he knew that something had happened to Thomas and Douglas. He suspected that Thomas had managed to convince Douglas to side with him and, therefore, side with St. Austell. Now Douglas was a traitor, too. All of his loyal subjects had now turned against him. It was his own damnable fault for trusting them.

His solar was warm and fragrant with fresh rushes, as it usually was, and the earl threw himself into the chair behind his enormous desk, grasping for the vellum box. Pulling forth a small piece, he then threw open his quill box and, dipping it in the lead ink, began to carefully scribe a missive.

Miguel ~

Since your attack on St. Austell failed, send my men back to me that I loaned to you for this venture. You will now gain entrance to the castle as a carpenter or mason who can assist with repairs on the damaged fortress, abduct Lady d’Vant, and take her to the castle in Wales, which now belongs to you, for safekeeping. Once she is safely stored, send word to her husband to come to Wales and negotiate for her release. You will kill him before negotiations begin. With that, our plans come to fruition and all that I have promised you shall be yours. Fail, and I will destroy you. Take care when gaining entrance to St. Austell, as there may be men once loyal to me that would recognize you.

~ Cornwall

He wrote the same missive four times. In short order, four messengers were riding for the four different ports Miguel was known to frequent, in hope of reaching the man.

Four days after the missives were sent, one of the exhausted messengers found an equally exhausted an
d defeated Miguel in his home port of Padstow.

At first, Miguel considered refusing everything, but his instincts told him that one did not deny the Earl of Cornwall and successfully live to tell the tale. He knew he had little choice. Besides, he wanted the property in Wales very much. He was a greedy man.

It was his greed that told him to obey.

*

“Are you really leaving tomorrow?”

Dennis didn’t look up from packing his traveling satchel. Ryan had asked the question ten times within the last hour alone. He was patient with her.

“I should have left a week ago and you know it,” he said softly. “I have remained to make sure you were well on the path to recovery. Since you are doing so well, there is no longer any reason for me to stay. I must go, Ryan; you know this.”

Sitting on their enormous bed and swaddled in a lovely surcoat of white lamb’s wool, Ryan watched him pack with great sorrow. She had been avoiding this day, knowing it was coming, but now that it was upon her she was wracked with sorrow.

In the past week they had grown so incredibly close. Dennis had never left her side. The physic from Falmouth was still at the castle, having taken up permanent residence in the loft, and finding that there were more than enough patients to keep him busy. Dennis kept him there for Ryan’s sake, but Ryan insisted the man help the villagers that were still living in the inner bailey. Though Dennis would have liked to have cleared the inner bailey altogether, he wouldn’t do it until he knew Ryan was strong and sound. He didn’t want anything to upset her recovery, even something as small as displacing the villagers, as she still felt a sense of responsibility towards them.

So they spent every waking hour together and the sleeping hours, too. They would play card games for hours on end with a deck of painted cards Thomas had given Ryan as a gift years ago. Sometimes Clive, or Charlotte, or even Riston would join their games, which then turned loud when Charlotte would lose. A few times, Riston had brought dice to the chamber, and he and Ryan and Lyla would play dice until Dennis broke up the game because he didn’t think it was lady-like.

All of this wonderful living went on over the past week, normal life playing out between people who had once been such bitter enemies. It would have been perfect had they not had to bury Thomas and Douglas in the middle of it. St. Stephen’s church, which was located down near the wharf, held a small mass for both knights, although Thomas was the focus of the service. Dennis, Ryan, Lyla, Riston, Charlotte, and Clive were the only attendees, and Ryan had wept as they had buried her father under the hard-packed floor of the chapel. Douglas ended up out in the garden, far away from the man he had murdered.

Now, that wonderful week of bonding was coming to a close, and Ryan faced losing Dennis to a damnable war in Wales under circumstances that she hardly understood. True, she knew the reasons behind his leaving. She had been there when he had discussed them, but the fact remained that he was leaving her, and that was all she could seem to focus on.

“Dennis?”

He shoved a rolled tunic into his satchel. “What is it, my love?”

She fidgeted with the hem on her sleeve. “If Riston is going, why can’t I?” she asked. “I will not be any trouble. You need someone to take care of you while you fight.”

He stopped packing and put his hands on his hips. “Do I really have to answer that?”

“You do.”

He sighed heavily and began to look around the chamber to see if he had collected everything he needed. “Because you must stay here where you are safe,” he told her. “You are still recovering from your wound, and I will be on the road for many weeks, eventually fighting in Wales where it is freezing cold and snowing. I would not subject you to such conditions, and you know it. Why would you ask such a foolish question?”

Ryan frowned. “A man who loves his wife would always want her to be with him, no matter what,” she said unhappily. “Did you lie to me when you told me that you loved me?”

He rolled his eyes at her; she was close to pitching a fit and, frankly, he found it rather humorous. Moving to her, he put his hands on her arms and kissed her cheek when she petulantly turned her face away from him.

“Each night I look into the sky of blue,” he whispered against her face. “For each star there’s a reason I am in love with you. If there was anyone I would give my whole life to, it is you, my love. How can you doubt me?”

His words were soft and whispered, like a sweet strain of poetry. She put her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

“Dennis, please take me with you,” she murmured. I do not want to be without you.”

He buried his face in her hair. “I cannot,” he murmured. “Please do not beg me. You know I do not like it when you do that.”

He let her go to resume his packing and she frowned, so deeply unhappy. “Then I shall follow you,” she said. “I will track you like a hound tracks a fox. I will follow you unto the ends of the earth.”

He didn’t respond to her. She was posturing now, furious that she had been unable to change his mind. It only made her angrier.

“You do not believe me?” she asked, climbing off the bed. “I can do it, you know. I am very good at tracking.”

He looked at her, then, a smile playing on his lips. “I am sure it is your vast experience as a hunter that has taught you such things.”

She made a face at him and he laughed. But Ryan wasn’t finished. “I shall stow away in your saddle bags.”

“You are a bit big,” he said drolly. “Do you think I would not notice you?”

“You would not notice me.”

“I see,” he said, stroking his chin. “I have a better idea. You will stay here like a good lass and I will return to you when my service is over. That would suit me much better.”

He was still somewhat jesting with her, but his message was serious. Ryan could see that her pleading wasn’t going to make headway with him. His mind was made up. Feeling defeat and despair, she sank back onto the mattress as he finished up with his travel bags.

Dennis noticed she had grown oddly silent. He looked up from securing his bags to see her sitting on the bed with tears rolling down her cheeks. Sighing sadly, he sat on the bed beside her.

“Love, I am sorry you are so upset,” he said, wiping the moisture on her chin. “If I could take you, you know that I would. I do not want to be separated from you any more than you want to be separated from me. But I feel this is something I must do. If we are to ever know any measure of peace with Launceston, I must take that risk. Surely you understand that?”

She nodded, trying not to sob. It wouldn’t do any good. “I am so frightened for you.”

He pulled her head to his lips for a gentle kiss. “I know,” he murmured. “But I swear I will do everything in my power to return home safely to you. Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

She suddenly burst into gut-busting sobs. “But I do not want you to go!”

Dennis grunted sadly, watching her explode with anguish. “I know you do not,” he said patiently. “I promise I will return as soon as I can. I promise I will stay safe. What more reassurance can I give you?”

Ryan threw her arms around his neck, her mouth on his. “Reassure me with your touch,” she whispered, her tears wetting his cheeks. “Bed me as you have never bedded me before. Give me your son before you leave me.”

He looked at her, surprised, but she wouldn’t let him slow her passion for something as mundane as talk. She was on him quickly, straddling his lap as her hands went to work on the ties on his breeches. Dennis didn’t stop her; he let her unfasten his breeches just as he snaked his hands beneath her surcoat to realize she wasn’t wearing anything beneath. He could feel her hands on his already-aroused member, positioning her body so he could enter her. She was already wet, waiting for him, and Dennis grasped her hips as he thrust deeply into her.

They moved together and he eventually fell back on the bed,
one hand holding her buttocks while the other pulled the neckline of her surcoat aside so that her left breast was exposed. He fondled her, pulling at the nipple as Ryan’s soft and responsive body rocked with every thrust. In little time, he released himself into her, feeling her body twitch in response.

When the grunting and gasping died down, Ryan climbed off of him, pulled his breeches completely off, disrobed herself, and climbed back on top of him. In very little time they were making love again, this time with Ryan’s soft pleas of accompanying him to Wales being whispered in his ear. It took every ounce of strength that Dennis possessed to hold her off. Daylight passed into night, and still they made love to gentle whispers and tender kisses. It went on most of the night.

When Ryan awoke in the morning, Dennis was gone.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

London, England

“D’Vant? Where have I heard of this house?”

The man repeated the name as if he could almost recall it from some distant memory. He had fair, thinning hair and one droopy eye, much in the same fashion as his younger brother. The sagging eyelid was a dominant Plantagenet trait that most for most of them, but not all of them in the family seemed to possess, including His Most Royal Majesty, King Henry III.

“Rodrick d’Vant, my king, was the son of Robere Avignon d’Vant, a knight who served your uncle in the Holy Land, and his wife, Maura of Avon.” A small, well-dressed man stood before his king. “Do you not recall your father’s fondness for Maura? She was quite lovely, with long blond hair and gray eyes. She was at court from the time she was thirteen and…”

Henry nodded his head, curtly, to cut him off. “Indeed, I recall her from my youth. Rodrick is her bastard from my father’s loins.”

The well-dressed servant half-nodded, half-bowed. “It was said that your father raped her, resulting in Rodrick.”

“I still do not understand why this son of d’Vant has come. Where is Rodrick?”