The suspicion in the room turned into something appraising and unfriendly.
But Markus wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t reckless. He knew the big knight was taller and heavier than he was, and from the look of the man, suspected he was more than deadly. He wasn’t going to willingly enter into a confrontation with him, even if had been challenged, mostly because he happened to agree with him. But he was still stunned by the entire situation and his gaze returned to Lysabel.
“Tell me that this is not a plot of some kind with de Russe,” he said seriously. “Tell me this wasn’t something that was planned.”
Lysabel shook her head. “I swear to you that this is not a plot of any kind. What happened with Benoit… it was nothing that I had planned. It simply happened.”
“And you swear to me upon your children’s lives that Benoit de Wilde is dead?”
“I swear to you with all that and more. He is dead.”
With that, all the air seemed to leave Markus as he hissed, exhaling until there was nothing left. He turned away from Lysabel to compose himself, struggling with the news he’d been given.
“My God,” he breathed. “He is truly dead?”
Lysabel watched him closely. “He is,” she said. “Thank God, he is. And now I must go to my father and ask him what I should do. That is why I must go to Wellesbourne Castle, Markus. I want you to remain here and ensure that Stretford Castle is run smoothly and normally, and that everyone believes Benoit will return at some point. Until my father tells me what to do, it must be that way. Do you understand?”
Markus ended up over by the windows that overlooked part of the bailey beyond. After a moment, he took a deep breath and turned to her.
“I want to go with you to Wellesbourne,” he said. “Your father gifted me to Benoit, if you recall. I must know what he wishes for me to do now… now that Benoit will not return. Will you allow me to go with you, my lady?”
Lysabel nodded. “I will,” she said, “providing that you take your orders from Trenton. Not only is he the son and heir to the Duke of Warminster, but he is an earl by title. He is the Earl of Westbury, so by rank alone, you must take orders from him, Markus. Is that clear?”
Markus’ gaze moved in Trenton’s direction. “De Russe,” he muttered as if suddenly recognizing the name. “Warminster. I do not know why I have not made the connection before now. Gaston de Russe is your father?”
“He is.”
“Then I will willingly follow your command, my lord.”
Trenton simply nodded, pleased to see that he wasn’t about to have a fight on his hands with Benoit’s irate knight. In fact, the man seemed rather dazed by the news and now was rather submissive with everything explained to him. He recalled Lysabel telling him that Markus had no great love for Benoit, and that was clear in the man’s manner. Serving the man had only been a duty. With that understanding, Trenton was eager to move forward with their intentions. That’s what this meeting was about, after all.
“Then prepare an escort of men for Wellesbourne Castle,” Trenton told him. “I will trust you to select the best thirty men you have. The lady wishes to leave on the morrow, so make haste to arm and supply the escort. We will depart at dawn.”
Markus nodded sharply and made his way to the door, quitting the chamber without another word as he went about his duties. It seemed as if, perhaps, he needed to be alone to think of what he’d been told, or at least that was the sense that Trenton got. He went to shut the door behind the man, turning his attention to Lysabel when they were finally alone in the chamber.
“You only told him part of the truth,” he said quietly. “Do you not trust him to know all of it?”
Lysabel looked at him. “I do not want him to know your role in the situation,” she said. “Markus is trustworthy, but I can see he is already wary of you. And you heard him – he wanted to know if it was some kind of plot between us. I will tell him the truth at some point, but not now. I… I do not want him looking at you as a killer, Trenton.”
He regarded her carefully. “But I am,” he muttered. “Do you not know what I have been doing all of these years for the king, Lysabel? When I came for Benoit, that was not the first time I’d carried out orders such as that. It is what I do for Henry – if he has enemies, it is my duty to eliminate them. Whatever the king wishes, I carry it out. Shall I go on?”
She turned away. “Nay,” she said firmly. “And I do not care what you do for Henry. All I know is that you saved me, and I loathe that anyone would look at the situation any differently.”
He smiled at the thought. “So you did it so spare my reputation?” he asked. “It is noble of you, but unnecessary. My reputation is what it is. One more death will not break me.”
Lysabel shrugged. “To me, you will always have my utmost gratitude and respect. And I do not want anyone to think otherwise of you.”
Trenton thought that was most flattering, in truth. She wanted to protect what others thought of him, and that was rather endearing of her.
“I’ve never had a lady come to my defense before,” he said. “Stop it or you will swell my head. Is it possible you find me attractive now and not my brother?”
It was a leading tease and he had no idea why he said it, only that he wanted to see her reaction. Was he looking for some kind of encouragement? Some sign that he was making her feel warm and giddy, just as she was making him feel the same? It was reckless, and he knew it, but he truthfully didn’t care.
Idiot!
But Lysabel fought off a grin. “I am not coming to your defense,” she said. “And I told you that your brother is the only one who has ever had my attention.”
“You do not like me better than Dane, not even a little?”
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, but she was smiling now. “Stop pestering me, Trenton de Russe,” she said. “I have work to do.”
He saw her grinning as she left the chamber and he watched her go, standing in the doorway as she headed down the corridor to the mural stairs that led to the upper floors. But she paused before she took that first step, throwing him a look that was both humorous and, he thought, rather flirtatious. Then, she stuck her tongue out at him and bolted up the stairs, leaving him laughing softly.
And I find you most attractive, sweet Lysabel, against my better judgement…
CHAPTER SIX
Brencis wasn’t a happy traveler.
Riding in the wagon hurt her belly, and her mother wouldn’t let her walk with the soldiers, so she was very upset about the entire situation. Trenton could hear her weeping, complaining to her mother, and he could hear Lysabel’s soft, gentle tone, trying to calm her child. But Brencis wouldn’t be soothed. They were barely a day out of Stretford, and already, it was a long journey.
As Trenton and Dewi plodded along, Trenton couldn’t help but notice that his horse seemed distracted. Usually, the big black warhorse was the first one on an escort, refusing to let any other horse get in front of him, but over the past few hours, the horse seemed to want to slow down, or turn around even, and Trenton couldn’t figure out why the horse was behaving in such a way. Twice, he’d had to slap the horse on his big neck to force him to stop swinging his head around, as if he were trying to turn about. Dewi could be a quirky creature even in the best of times, but this was something beyond what he normally did.
As Trenton tried to figure out his fickle beast, Markus rode off to his right astride a leggy gray stallion. The knight had formed the escort party perfectly and since their discussion in the solar, he’d been completely cooperative. Obedient to a fault, even. Trenton wasn’t sure he trusted the man, but he didn’t make his mistrust obvious. He simply kept an eye on him. If he had any questions or commands, they were immediately relayed to Markus, who ensured they were carried out. His efficiency was beyond question.
Trenton had quickly discovered that Markus was the only knight Benoit had. The rest of the men were simply soldiers. There were several sergeants, men who seemed r
ather rough around the edges, and then the rank and file soldiers, and Trenton had no idea where Benoit obtained those men. From what Trenton had seen, they were barely one level above animals themselves, uneducated and unrefined men, but they did what Markus ordered them to do and that was all Trenton cared about.
Still, he couldn’t help but think that a man was often defined by the men who served him, and with the exception of Markus, Benoit’s soldiers were most definitely a reflection of their ugly, brutal master.
And this is what Lysabel had been exposed to all of these years.
He’d only spoken briefly to her last night during the feast, as she’d only stopped by to supervise the meal in the midst of her packing. And in the darkness of the early morning, he’d loaded her and her daughters into a wagon because he thought that would be easier for them to ride in, and they set out on the road north.
The wagon bed was covered with straw and then a layer of blankets for comfort, and there were pillows to ease their ride as well, so it wasn’t completely uncomfortable, but Brencis was having a difficult time with it. It was into the afternoon now and Trenton could still hear her grumbling and, on occasion, wailing. Finally, he decided to go back and have a look for himself.
Maybe he could help soothe the savage beastie.
Brencis was miserable and didn’t care who knew it. When Trenton approached the wagon as it lurched along the road and undoubtedly hit every hole in its path, he could see that Cynethryn was hanging over the side of the wagon, appearing utterly bored and unhappy, while Brencis sat across her mother’s lap as Lysabel tried to soothe her. As soon as she saw Trenton approach, however, she seemed to come alive. As he came near the wagon, she practically launched herself from her mother’s lap and rushed to the side of the wagon.
“Can I ride with you?” she begged. “I do not want to ride in the wagon any longer! It makes my belly hurt!”
She was nearly falling out of the wagon in her haste, so he reined Dewi next to the moving wagon, trying to keep her from spilling out and hurting herself. Lysabel was also grabbing at her, getting a good grip on her skirt, but Brencis didn’t seem to care. She was far more interested in Dewi as the big horse came close. As her mother and Trenton tried to keep her from falling, she reached out with both arms to pet Dewi on his shiny black neck.
“Beautiful Dewi,” she crooned. “You are my friend. I have missed you!”
Dewi was muzzled so there was no chance of him snapping at the child, but he twisted his big neck so that his muzzle was rubbing up against her. In fact, he seemed very interested in her, and her attention, and it began to occur to Trenton that perhaps the reason why his horse had been so distracted was because his treat-giver had been wailing and upset. Dewi was a smart animal and had quite a memory. Even so, Trenton was somewhat surprised to realize that Dewi was about as interested in Brencis as Brencis was in Dewi.
“Cissy,” Lysabel tugged on her daughter’s skirt. “Sit down. You may not ride with Sir Trenton.”
But Brencis wasn’t going to give up. She tried to put her arms around Dewi’s neck even though they wouldn’t go even half the way around.
“I love him,” she crooned, kissing the horse’s neck and laying her cheek on his soft fur. “He loves me, too. Can I please ride with you, Sir Trenton? Please?”
Trenton didn’t think it was a very good idea, considering how violent and sometimes skittish the horse could be. But he was coming to feel some sympathy for the little girl who was so in love with horses.
“He is not a riding horse, my lady,” he said. “He is bred for battle, and can be difficult at times. I would hate for you to be hurt.”
Brencis was stroking the horse between the eyes, running her fingers through the mane between his ears.
“He will not hurt me,” she said confidently. “He wants me to ride with you.”
Trenton cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
“How do you know?”
She looked at him seriously. “He has told me so.”
Trenton simply nodded his head, glancing at Lysabel, who was looking rather apologetic. “I am sorry she has been such a nuisance,” she said. “She has not traveled well this entire trip. Praise God it will not be a long one.”
Trenton fought off a grin. “The village of Cirencester is up ahead,” he said. “I was thinking that we should find you and your daughters lodging for the night. I believe Lady Brencis could use the rest after a rough first day.”
Lysabel nodded in complete agreement. “That would be appreciated,” she said. “I think all three of us can use the rest. Although I love my daughter dearly, I am close to strangling her simply to quiet her.”
As Brencis looked at her mother and frowned, Trenton’s grin broke through. “Then I shall send men ahead to seek proper lodging,” he said. “Have no fear, Lady de Wilde. You shall have peace this night.”
With that, he tried to spur Dewi forward, but the horse was far too interested in Brencis, who was still petting and hugging him. In fact, Lysabel had to pull her daughter away from the warhorse so Trenton could move him forward, and even then, Dewi made his unhappiness known. Suspecting the horse simply wanted more pears from the hands of a besotted little girl gave him limited patience with the beast, and he both spurred him forward and smacked him on the rump when he didn’t want to obey. Trenton was starting to think he had two disobedient children on his hands – the horse and Brencis.
Unhappy Dewi, and unhappy Trenton, sent Markus and another soldier on ahead to Cirencester to scout lodgings for the women as Trenton rode the rest of the way into the village astride a warhorse that was getting quite worked up about having no pears. He tossed his head and foam from his lips splattered from his muzzle. Overhead, clouds were starting to roll in and Trenton was coming to think that there would be summer rain soon, so his decision to find shelter sooner rather than later was a sound one.
Cirencester was a dirty little village that was quite overpopulated. Arriving on the outskirts, Trenton could see that poverty was fairly rife. It was August, so it was a warm month, and half-naked children ran in the gutters, chasing each other, as dogs barked alongside, while the stench from the gutters themselves filled the air to the point of making Trenton’s eyes water.
It smelled like a cesspool.
Heading deeper into town, Trenton kept an eye out for Markus, hoping the man had found something that was at least tolerable. Given the state of the village, he wasn’t at all sure that would happen. Amongst the wattle and daub huts, some of them held together by nothing more than twigs and mud, Trenton eventually spied a fairly large livery and thought it might be a good place for the escort to bed down for the night, providing it was close enough to the lodging for the ladies.
Trenton turned to the nearest soldier and pointed off towards the livery, and the man understood the command and began to pass the word back through the troops. Bedding down in a livery wasn’t an unusual thing for groups of men, because taverns were expensive and not designed to accommodate masses of men, so Trenton headed for the livery to pay the livery master a few coins for the privilege. The men were beginning to move into the livery yard when he caught sight of Markus, heading back in his direction.
“Well?” Trenton reined his horse to a halt. “What have you discovered?”
Markus flipped up his three-point visor, of the latest style. “There are a few taverns towards the northern end of town,” he said. “A brief perusal told me that none of them were fit for Lady de Wilde, if you get my meaning, but there is one place, a smaller place off the main road, called The Greene and The Glory that does not seem to be overflowing with whores.”
Trenton cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose we have little choice,” he said, glancing up at the sky as dark clouds gathered. “Did you secure a room?”
“I secured three. I did not know how many you wanted.”
Trenton nodded. “Wise,” he said. “I shall take a room and the ladies can take another. Will
you take the third or will you sleep with the men?”
Markus’ gaze drifted over to the group now beginning to filter into the livery yard. “That crew?” He shook his head. “Even if there was not a third room, I would not sleep with them.”
Trenton looked at them. “But they are your men.”
Slowly, Marcus shook his head. “Make no mistake, my lord,” he said, lowering his voice. “They are de Wilde’s men. They think like him and they behave like him. It is like having an army of misfits.”
Trenton had suspected much the same thing, but hearing de Aston’s opinion only confirmed his observations. “As long as they obey your commands, I suppose an army of misfits is better than no army at all,” he said. “Take Lady de Wilde and her daughters to the tavern. I will be along shortly.”
Markus nodded sharply and headed towards the wagon, which was just rolling by at this point. He spoke to the two men driving the team, pointing down the road to the northern end of the town. Just as the wagon began to pick up speed, Trenton could hear someone calling his name.
“Sir Trenton!” It was Brencis. “Can I come with you to the stables, please? Sir Trenton!”
It would have been very easy not to hear her plea, but Trenton couldn’t seem to ignore the child. She was sweet, and eager, and her all-consuming love for horses was somehow growing on him. He knew she probably wanted to see the other horses in the stable and he honestly couldn’t think of a reason to deny her. She wouldn’t be much trouble, he didn’t think, as he settled Dewi into a stall. He could handle one little girl. With a sigh, perhaps one of resignation, he reined Dewi over towards the wagon.
When Markus saw him coming, he uttered commands to the men driving the team, and the wagon lurched to a halt. Brencis was standing on the edge, waving Trenton over, and he simply reined Dewi next to the wagon bed and scooped her up with one enormous arm. His focus was on Lysabel.