Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
Tags: #Historical Romance, #Medieval Romance, #Love Story, #Romance, #Medieval England, #Warrior, #Warriors, #Wales
As Patrick nodded firmly, Kevin spoke again.
“And if Edward breaks free and rides to Rhydilian for shelter?” he asked softly. “What then?”
William looked at him. His one-eyed gaze was deadly. “You will make sure he does not see anyone on the battlements,” he said. “For all the king knows, everyone at Rhydilian is in the keep preparing for surrender.
There will be no one to hear his cries. And you will not open the gates.”
Kevin cocked an eyebrow. “Not even to our king?”
“Not even to our king.”
Kevin nodded, his gaze lingering on William for a moment as he turned away and headed back for the battlements. He understood now what William already understood; blood over a kingdom. Family above all. Edward sought to destroy part of William’s family and he would not tolerate it
. Now, it was a fight for survival and William intended to win.
As Kevin moved away
with the de Wolfe brothers in tow, Paris and Kieran emerged from the keep. Seeing that William had returned made them walk quickly in the man’s direction.
“Well?” Paris demanded. “Is he setting up camp in the marsh?”
William nodded. “He is,” he said, his gaze lingering on his oldest and dearest friend. “How is de Shera faring? Is his fever still raging?”
Paris shrugged. “It is not getting any worse,” he said. “
Penelope will not leave him, however, not even to see the beast make a meal out of Edward. She remains at his side.”
William sighed, his gaze moving to the big, imposing keep silhouetted against the starry night. “I do not expect her to,” he said. “She fears for h
er husband’s life.”
Paris had been a healer for many years and was more competent than most physics
. William trusted his word on matters such as this.
“I do not believe the fever will claim him,” Paris said. “It is bad, that is true, but de Shera’s surgeon seems competent. He has taken good care of him
. But the sister, however, is another issue.”
William looked at him
with some surprise. “What do you mean?”
Paris lifted his eyebrows. “She carries a very big baby and she is a very small girl,” he said
, somewhat quietly. “The baby is breech and I have tried twice to turn him around, but it is very tight. I will go in a little while and try again. She is so young, William. Her body is simply not prepared for this birth.”
William
was feeling some sadness at that prospect. “Is Thomas with her?”
Paris nodded. “He is.”
“He is fond of her, you know. At least, that is what Penelope has told me.”
Again, Paris nodded. “He is up there singing to her, very softl
y. It is sad, truly.”
William was quite a moment. “If it looks as if she will not survive this birth, get him out of the
chamber,” he said softly. “I do not want him distressed by something he cannot help. He is still young, Paris. I do not want an experience like this affecting him for the rest of his life.”
Paris nodded faintly. “If the girl does not survive the birth, it will be distressing to your wife and to Jemma
. I believe they felt rather responsible for her while they were here.”
William lifted his eyebrows, consigning young Lady Tacey to the grace of God. “Do what you can,” he said. “You stay
to the keep with de Shera and his sister. That is where you are needed most.”
Paris turned and walked away, leaving William standing there with Kieran and the two
teulu
commanders. There was a lingering sadness over Tacey’s state and Bhrodi’s ill health. William glanced at the
teulu
commanders, seeing distress on their faces. Their entire world was changing, perhaps even about to shatter. But they were soldiers and soldiers had to endure. Clearing his throat, he changed the focus.
“
This horn that calls the beast,” he said, speaking on the first subject he could think of. “De Shera tells me that it is very old.”
Ianto, still lingering over Tacey’s situation, struggled to pull himself out of his gloom. “It is, my lord,” he replied. “It belonged to the Northmen who brought the beast with them.”
“And it will truly call this creature forth?”
“It will indeed, my lord.”
“Have you had occasion to do that?”
Ianto could see that Bhrodi hadn’t told de Wolfe why, exactly, they had the horn or what they did with it.
The man’s question told him that. He wondered how de Wolfe would react if he knew that de Shera used the creature to exact revenge on his enemies. But he supposed it didn’t matter now; they were all in this together. After a moment, Ianto nodded.
“Indeed we have, my lord,” he said. “The beast of the marsh has
a taste for human flesh. Lord de Shera’s father and forefathers summoned the creature to smite their enemies, just as we are doing tonight. What we do on this dark and clear night is something the lords of Rhydilian have done for generations. Your king will become the latest victim in a long line of many, all enemies of the House of de Shera.”
William was listening to the man seriously. “Then that is why he suggested this,” he said. “You have done this before.”
Ianto nodded. “Many times, my lord.”
It made perfect sense. De Shera was known as The Serpent but not merely because of his deadly battle tactics; there was something more to that reputation, something that blended into legend
. As de Shera had once told him, the beast of the marsh and Bhrodi de Shera were one and the same. Perhaps that was really true. Now, the English enemies would fall victim to that legend as well.
As William pondered the
many facets of Bhrodi de Shera, he noticed a figure emerging from the keep. But it wasn’t any figure; it looked suspiciously like Bhrodi and when William realized that Penelope was emerging with him, hanging on to him, he was jolted into action. As he ran for the keep, he saw Paris at the top of the steps as well and he could hear the man’s distressed voice. It was obvious that Paris was very unhappy. Still, Bhrodi, hunched over and moving like a cripple, seemed determined and Penelope right along with him. They were descending the steps but William ran up to meet them, an astonished expression on his face.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “De Shera, you are going to put yourself into an early grave
.”
Bhrodi’s arms were wrapped around his gut, his face pale and sweaty. But the look of determination on his features was powerful enough to move mountains.
“Edward is on my doorstep,” he grunted. “Did you truly believe I would greet the man lying in my bed?”
William looked at Penelope; she had tears in her eyes but she was struggling very hard to be
brave. A glance at Paris showed the man to be nearly as distressed as Penelope. As foolish as Bhrodi’s actions were, unfortunately, William understood them completely. The man was a knight, and a very good one, and this night would either see his empire preserved or destroyed. Of course he could not have simply lain there and waited for Fate to strike. If his life was to be ended, then he wanted to meet it head-on and if he was to be saved, then he wanted to greet the fortunes of Fate for the same reason. William sighed heavily.
“Where do you intend to go?” he asked, his tone resigned.
Bhrodi looked around the bailey, to the walls of his mighty castle. His gaze lingered on the battlements. “Up there,” he murmured, causing everyone to turn to see what he was looking at. “Upon the wall of the castle that has been in my family for almost two hundred years. I want to see Edward’s destruction for myself. It is my right.”
William could hardly disagree. “Bhrodi, you cannot make it,” he muttered. “In your condition, you will be fortunate to make it across the bailey.”
At Bhrodi’s side, Penelope was trying very hard not to weep out loud. She wiped at the tears on her face. “I will help him, Papa,” she said. “He has asked me to help him.”
She was trying so hard to be brave and William’s heart nearly broke for her. Bhrodi, damaged and ill, was doing what came naturally to him and Penelope understood that. Like William, she understood completely. William looked at Paris, standing behind the pair, and the two of them silently conveyed words of resignation. It would be of no use to try and stop the man. De Shera was determined to see the threat to his life, and his world, ended. Either that, or he would meet it head
-on if the beast failed to complete its task. After a few moment’s hesitation, William backed away and Bhrodi continued his hunched-over walk.
Penelope had a grip on her husband’s left arm, struggling to assist the man who was quite a bit larger than she was. Paris walked behind them, holding out his hands to catch de Shera if the man faltered, and William ended up beside Paris doing much the same thing
. Together, they followed Bhrodi and Penelope as they made their way very slowly across the bailey. It was a trek that was attracting attention.
Now, the de Wolfe brothers were watching from the battlements and Kevin went so far as to come down from the wall. He started to run towards the pair, to assist, but was intercepted by his father. Kieran had been watching it all from the gatehouse
. When Kevin resisted his efforts, Kieran was firmer about it.
“Nay, lad,” he muttered. “This is something they must do together. They do not need you.”
Kevin was watching with great distress. “But he cannot make it alone,” he pointed out. “She will need help.”
Kieran had his hand on his son’s chest. “It is time you learn that you cannot be there for Penny any longer,” he murmured, making to meet Kevin’s eye. “She is Bhrodi’s wife and although I realize you have been very helpful to them during your stay here, you must think on it from Bhrodi’s point of view – how would you feel if you were married to Penny and a man kept trying to interfere, no matter how altruistic his intentions?”
Kevin didn’t like that question, mostly because he knew the answer. He started to say something but just couldn’t find the words. His gaze followed Penelope as she struggled to assist Bhrodi across the muddy bailey. All the while, his heart was breaking; his father was right. He couldn’t help her any longer. He could no longer interfere in her marriage.
Without another word, he turned away and headed back to the battlements. Kieran watched his son go, feeling heavy-hearted for him
. It was difficult to accept that the woman he loved would never be his wife. It was difficult to accept that she belonged to another. He could have told Kevin that there would be other women and other loves for him, but that wasn’t something he wanted to hear right now. Kevin would have to grieve the loss of Penelope before he would be able to move on. For Kevin, it was finally over.
Bhrodi and Penelope were now in the middle of the bailey, slowly making progress towards the gatehouse and the battlements. Penelope had a tight hold of him, now counting out the steps as he moved
.
Step, step. Step, step. That’s good. You are doing very well
. But it was a slow and painful journey. They were just entering the shadow of the gatehouse when behind them, Yestin emerged from the keep. The tall, lanky man ran down the stairs, nearly falling at the bottom, in his haste to reach his liege. As he ran across the ward, he began to shout.
“It is gone!” he
cried. “The
tafod
is not in its place!”
Everyone seemed to come to a halt, particularly Bhrodi
. Holding on to his guts, he looked over his shoulder as Yestin came running up. The man’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Fy arglwydd,”
Yestin gasped. “Y tafod ar goll!
My lord, the horn is missing!
Bhrodi’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” he demanded, reaching out to grasp Yestin. “Did you look in my chamber?”
Yestin nodded furiously. “I did, my lord,” he said, his English stilted and heavily accented. “I went to your chamber, to the chest near the tapestry, and it is not there. It is gone!”
Bhrodi tried not to get caught up in Yestin’s panic. William and Paris came up to join the group, both men equally concerned. William looked to Bhrodi.
“Could someone have taken it?” he asked. “One of the servants, mayhap?”
Bhrodi was truly at a loss. “It is possible,” he said, “but why? They would not know what it was. Only me and my
teulu
know what it is meant for.”
William struggled not to become increasingly concerned. “Could it have been misplaced? Mayhap it was put elsewhere.”
Bhrodi shook his head. “Never,” he replied. “It is always in the same place. It has never been moved.”
William wasn’t sure what more to say; he turned to Paris, who looked back at him with some apprehension.
The horn was missing
. Would their night be over before it began? After a moment of indecision and confusion, William returned his attention to Bhrodi.
“You have said the beast emerges to feed on the full moon,” he said, his voice quiet. “The moon is full tonight. The beast will come without the horn, will it not?”
Bhrodi sighed heavily, looking up to the brilliant moon and starry night. “Aye, it should,” he replied, “unless it has already fed. If that is the case, then it will not feed again this night. That is why the horn is important… it is a sound that brings out the bloodlust in the creature. When the beast hears the horn, it knows that fear and blood and mayhem are expected. It comes forth because we summon it. We
must
rouse that bloodlust against Edward.”