Therefore, the best manner in which to approach Erith was on her south and east sides where the ground was more level. There was still a big ditch, partially filled with great jutting boulders and swampy water, but it made for a better tactical approach. Based on this, and the fact that Gloucester had come from the south, Braxton had the three mangonels covering the south and west walls.
Men were building furiously and gathering their supply of crude oil in great barrels. They also had a huge supply of quick lime, Sulphur and salt peter from one of Braxton’s enormous supply wagons, creating incendiary devices that they intended to shoot at the enemy. Braxton de Nerra was, if nothing else, legendary for his military cunning and tactics. As Thomas, Robert, Davis and Steven de Nerra watched the extremely precise placement and planning of the defenses, Braxton suddenly appeared at the top of the keep’s stairs.
Davis was the first one to notice him and he suddenly bellowed like a madman, charging up the stairs and grabbing his youngest brother around the waist. He lifted Braxton up, shaking the man as if to shake him to death. Laughing, Braxton clipped his brother on the Adam’s apple and was promptly dropped.
Robert and Steven practically shoved their father aside to get to Braxton. The brothers came together in a clash of joy and affection, handshakes and brotherly hugs going all around until Thomas pushed his way in.
“Braxton,” he demanded in a very fatherly-way. “What goes on at this place? What are you doing?”
He was pointing to the mangonels. Braxton went to his father, taking the man’s hand affectionately; it had been years since he’d seen the man, now much older than he had remembered. He let his gaze linger on the man fondly.
“It is good to see you, too, Father,” he said.
Thomas grunted; he’d never been particularly affectionate with his boys but they all adored him and he adored them. Especially Braxton; the man resembled his mother to a fault, the fair Regan, and Thomas was very fond of his youngest. Braxton had always been the strong one, the brilliant one, something that Thomas had missed a great deal when the man had decided not to remain at Black Fell. But he respected his decision, or at least he had until Northumberland send the missive regarding Lady Gray Serroux. Thomas gazed into his son’s eyes, so full of wisdom and life, and finally relented to the emotions with a pat to his son’s rough cheek.
“You look well enough,” Thomas said; it was as close to an affectionate greeting as he could get. Uncomfortable with the emotions he was feeling, he pointed at the mangonel again. “What is all of this?”
Braxton lifted an eyebrow, looking out over the inner bailey and his three big war machines.
“We are preparing for Gloucester’s arrival,” he turned back to his father. “Did de Aughton not tell you everything?”
Thomas nodded. “He told me that you are having some difficulty with Gloucester.”
Braxton lifted an eyebrow. “Difficulty indeed. The man is trying to kill me.”
Thomas slapped him on the shoulder and turned him for the entry. “Take me inside and feed me. We will speak more of this inside.”
Braxton did as he was told. His brothers brought up the rear, inspecting Erith’s keep as it opened up into a two-storied banqueting hall. Due to Braxton’s money and the on-going repairs, it looked far better than it had in years, including a roaring fire in the enormous hearth. Robert made his way up to Braxton, a big, gnarled hand on Braxton’s shoulder as they walked.
“So tell me of your acquisition, Braxton,” he said. “Erith Castle used to belong to de Montfort years ago. How did you come by it?”
Braxton looked at his brother. “I did not ‘come by it’,” he said. “I married it.”
“And that is something else!” Thomas suddenly barked. “What is this we hear about you taking a wife? Why did I have to hear about it from another?”
They had moved through the small entry and passed under the great Norman arch that led into the banqueting hall. Just as Thomas boomed his question, an exquisite woman suddenly appeared from the alcove near the kitchen entrance. Dressed in a lovely green surcoat, she had a big earthenware pitcher in her hand. All four men suddenly came to a halt, fixed on the blond beauty with the angelic features. Braxton, fighting off a grin at their astonishment, went to his wife.
“Gentlemen,” he put his arm around Gray’s shoulders and pulled her before his family. “This is my wife, the Lady Gray de Montfort de Nerra. Gray, this is my father, Thomas, and my brothers Robert, Davis and Steven.”
The men were staring at her with some shock and Gray smiled politely, looking into faces that faintly resembled her husband to varying degrees.
“My lords,” she said in her soft, sultry voice. “Welcome to Erith. I am so pleased to meet you all.”
Robert was the first one to push forward and take her hand. “Lady de Nerra,” he said politely. “You have little concept of just how thrilled we are to meet you. We had no idea that Braxton had taken a wife and already I can see that you are far too good for him.”
Gray smiled sweetly at her husband before returning her focus to his brothers. “I am the fortunate one,” she said, then indicated the banqueting table, which was laden with several dishes and great pitchers of wine. “Will you please sit? Let us become acquainted.”
Braxton took the pitcher from her and set it on the table as his brothers and father began commandeering seats. Braxton helped Gray to sit down opposite his father, taking his seat beside her while Davis tried to sit on her opposite side. But Steven slapped Davis on the head and yanked him out of the way, taking the seat for himself. Dejected, Davis plopped his big body on the table top and tore into a huge loaf of white bread.
Braxton poured his father a cup of wine before serving Gray and them himself. Robert, seated across the table next to Thomas, poured himself a cup also.
“We have not seen Braxton in several years,” Robert said, passing the pitcher to his father. “Much has changed with him. I never thought I would see the day when he would settle in one place.”
Braxton has his arm around Gray. “I still have not settled in one place,” he told his brother. “Erith does not actually belong to me; it belongs to my daughter and her husband.”
The de Nerra brothers looked doubly shocked for the second time that day. Thomas’ bushy blond eyebrows lifted. “A daughter?” he sputtered. “What daughter?”
Braxton and Gray laughed softly. “My wife’s daughter, the Lady Brooke,” Braxton replied. “You should see her; as beautiful as a new spring morning.”
“And her husband?” Thomas demanded.
“The knight who greeted you in the ward, Sir Dallas,” he replied, catching sight of the Dallas as the man entered the keep. “Ah, here he comes now. I suppose you could say that he is your grandson.”
Thomas’ expression was one of shock and outrage as Dallas approached the table, but the old man’s expression didn’t hold for long as Braxton formally introduced Dallas to his new family. Dallas projected a strong, well-spoken and intelligent demeanor as he took his seat next to Braxton and Braxton realized that he was very proud of the man. Their relationship had changed since he had married Brooke and now Braxton took pride in him as a son and not just a knight in his service. It was a pleasing awareness.
Thomas and the brothers couldn’t decide whether to focus on Gray or on Dallas; there was too much information coming forth and they were understandably befuddled. But Robert kept his head in the face of all of the new information; he remained focused on Gray, his new sister, simply because she was much prettier than Dallas. He wanted the chance to know her.
“Your family is de Montfort, Lady Gray?” he sipped at his wine. “ ’Tis a distinguished heritage you bear.”
Gray smiled faintly. “It is kind of you to say so,” she replied. “Not many do.”
Robert cocked an eyebrow. “I have always admired Simon de Montfort. There are many who do in spite of the general opinion of his actions.”
Gray again smiled her thanks
, not sure what more to say as Braxton came to her rescue. In fact, he came straight to the point of his father and brothers’ visit.
“Speaking of de Montfort,” he said to her. “You will not believe why my father is here. Your mother has apparently sent him to save you from me.”
Gray’s eyebrows flew up. “Save me?” she looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
He grinned, taking her hand and toying with her fingers. “Your mother evidently made it back to Northumbria, whereupon she asked the Earl of Northumbria, Yves de Vesci, to send help back to Erith to save her daughter from the clutches of the horrible mercenary Braxton de Nerra. My father, being a vassal of Northumbria, was asked to come and intervene.”
Gray looked at him as if he was mad. Then her gaze moved to Thomas, to Robert and Steven, shocked by the circumstance of their appearance. Her wide-open gaze ended up back on Thomas.
“Is this true?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thomas nodded slowly, studying Gray just as she was studying him; he was trying to discern if the woman really was in danger from his son but, so far, all he could see between them was great happiness.
“It is,” he replied. “Is my son holding you against your will?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Did he force you into marriage?”
“He did no such thing!”
“Then why would your mother say such things?”
Gray’s face began to turn shades of red. “Because my mother is a miserable, deceitful person who cannot stomach the fact that my daughter and I are no longer under her control,” she hissed. “She has used lies and manipulation to gain her wants and even now, she continues to cause trouble. The army that attacked Erith two days ago was a direct result of my mother’s underhanded actions. She has done all she can to try and destroy me, and Braxton, and your presence here shows me that she is still trying.”
Thomas remained calm, although he believed her explanation completely. He didn’t sense any fear or treachery from the woman in the least.
“Why is Gloucester here to destroy you?” he wanted to know.
Gray told him everything she knew, followed by Braxton elaborating on the more critical issues. They heard of Constance’s lies against Braxton, of her attempt to sell Brooke’s hand to the highest bidder, and of Braxton’s solution to marry off both Gray and Brooke so that Constance could no longer control them. Thomas, Robert, Steven and Davis sat quietly through the explanation, drinking their wine and feasting on warmed over venison and bread.
Braxton finished his tale with the deaths of Roger and William de Clare, bringing them up to date on everything that had happened, and Thomas poured himself another cup and drank the entire thing in two swallows. It was evident that he felt the situation was indeed dire. Robert and Braxton exchanged concerned glances as Thomas seemed to lose himself in deep thought and another cup of wine. Finally, the man stirred back to life.
“Then it would seem that we have a problem,” Thomas finally said. “I cannot leave here with Gloucester an impending threat, but Gloucester is a strong ally of Northumberland. If I fight Gloucester, then I will do great damage to that alliance.”
“I will fight with Braxton, Father,” Robert said decisively. “I have one hundred and fifty men sworn to me. They are at Braxton’s disposal.”
Thomas held up a hand to quiet him as Davis, the biggest brother, checked in with his opinion.
“And I will fight with him also,” he boomed. “No man will attack my brother and get away with it. I will kill them all.”
Thomas waved a hand in Davis’ face as the man began to argue with him. Robert began to interject his very strong opinion and soon, the table was filled with men shouting to be heard. Gray looked at Braxton with concern, who merely shook his head at the sight of his father and brothers going at one another. Some things never changed. The only one not shouting was Steven and that was because his temperament was more like Braxton’s, quieter and calmer. Like Braxton, he was watching the explosions until he finally turned to his brother and shook his head with exasperation.
“Braxton,” he said in his calm, cool tone. “I believe I have a solution to all of this.”
Braxton, his arm around his wife, sat forward with interest. “What is that, Steven?”
Steven ducked when a cup, slammed to the table by Davis, shot up over his head before clattering to the floor several feet away.
“I would suspect that Gloucester’s army has spies watching Erith and undoubtedly saw us arrive,” he said. “But you know that it is Father’s custom not to fly banners when we travel. Knowing we are Gilderdale can attract those wanting to make a name for themselves against our might force. We therefore arrived with no fanfare or colors. Even if Gloucester is watching, they will not know who we are.”
Braxton was starting to guess what his brother was suggesting. “For all they know, you are reinforcements for Erith,” he said. “They do not have to know you are Gilderdale.”
Steven lifted an eyebrow. “Exactly,” he said. “Especially if we remove all tunic, colors or banners that even remotely suggest such a thing. We will replace our colors with yours and they will believe we are simply part of your army.”
By this time, Thomas had stopped shouting at Davis and Robert and was listening intently to what Steven was suggesting. He finally smacked at the table, startling Gray with the noise.
“A brilliant suggestion, Steven,” he said, looking to Braxton. “I have brought six hundred men with me, Braxton. Can you accommodate us?”
Braxton was coming to feel like he now had a great chance of success against a Gloucester offensive. In spite of alliances and lieges, he knew his father would not abandon him. He felt more relief than he would admit, squeezing Gray affectionately as he replied to his father.
“With my one hundred and eighty men, that gives us a sizable force,” he said. “Erith is a massive beast of a castle; of course we can accommodate you. Dallas will see to it immediately.”
Dallas nodded firmly and rose to his feet. There was a sense of hopefulness in the air now, as if they were not about to fight a losing battle. Dallas’ spirit was renewed. But there was still the matter of removing Gray and Brooke until the madness was over.
“Braxton,” he said. “This is all well and good, but we still must remove the ladies immediately. I do not want Brooke in a castle under siege.”
Braxton nodded, hoping he wouldn’t set Gray off with the touchy subject.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “The sooner the better. But plans for their destination have changed.”
Gray looked at him, surprised and concerned, as Dallas sat back down on the bench beside him. The young knight’s expression was somewhat wary.
“Where are they going?” he asked hesitantly.
Braxton told him. Dallas, not surprisingly, agreed. Gray, not surprisingly, did not.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Gray had never been to Creekmere Castle, although Garber had spent some time there in the past. Baron Wenvoe was a known gambler, a man who had prospered from the sport, and his castle reflected that. It was small but well-built and well maintained, and as the party from Erith entered the main gates, men went running into the keep to summon the baron. Astride their two big warmblood mares, Gray and Brooke inspected their surroundings cautiously.
A wagon, ten men at arms and Edgar had accompanied the women from Erith on the morning following the arrival of Gilderdale. Gray had known of a way north that kept them out of the line of sight of Gloucester or her spies, so the party had stayed to a small, less-traveled road to the northeast that kept them shielded by forests and dales. It took just a few hours to reach Creekmere, now as clouds were beginning to waft in from the sea and gather ominously overhead. As the portcullis dropped in behind them with a resounding boom, Gray was coming to feel as if she was a prisoner in this tiny castle.
Edgar, riding at the head of the column quite proudly on a fluffy brown destrier that
was too old to do much fighting or competing, dismounted his steed and very impressively announced Lady de Nerra and Lady Aston to Baron Wenvoe’s servants.
Even now, he stood at the head of the group, waiting expectantly for the baron to appear. Braxton had put him in charge of the ladies even though a senior sergeant was in charge of the soldiers, but still, Edgar was coming to feel as if he was finally being appreciated. Norman so often overshadowed him that it was rare when he had such opportunity to prove himself. As he turned back to look at Gray and Brooke, just to make sure they were looking at how officious he was, Brooke made a face at him. So much for being officious; he stuck his tongue out at her.
Baron Wenvoe emerged from the small keep several minutes later, looking rather flustered, as if he had just been awakened in his bed. His white hair was standing up and he had a crease on one side of his face as he stumbled down the stairs from the keep, his fat face fixed on the small party from Erith. He approached Gray somewhat timidly.
“My lady,” he semi-bowed, not an entirely mannerly man. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”
Gray dismounted the mare as a soldier grasped the reins to steady the beast. She approached Baron Wenvoe, struggling against the memories that the man provoked. Garber and Baron Wenvoe had been as thick as thieves with their gambling habits and she had tried to explain that to Braxton, but he was less concerned about old memories than he was about getting his wife and daughter to safety. She didn’t agree with him but she respected him enough to do as he asked.
Facing Wenvoe, however, she was coming to feel some disgust. She simply didn’t like the man.
“Greetings, baron,” she said with more pleasantness than she felt. “My daughter and I must beg refuge from you for a few days, at least until my husband sends for me.”
Wenvoe peered at her curiously. “Husband?” he repeated, well aware that Garber Serroux had been dead for years. But then it occurred to him that she had been announced by another name. “Are you… are you now Lady de Nerra?”