Archangel (47 page)

Gart turned one last time to make sure Emberley and Emilie were near the manse, which they were.  They were just entering the door.  Returning his attention to Romney as the child directed the stubborn pony towards him, he was startled when Kevin suddenly roared up next to him. Dirt and rocks hit Gart in the legs as Kevin came to abrupt stop.

“It is Westminster,” he said, sounding breathless. “Get Emberley upstairs and lock her someplace safe, Gart. We have trouble.”

Gart’s brow furrowed with concern. “What kind of trouble?”

Kevin’s handsome face was deadly serious, an expression that Gart would never forget as long as he lived.

“Buckland is with him.”

Chapter Twenty Six

At the moment, Gart’s main concern was Emberley. Seated in her borrowed bedchamber with the door bolted and a chair pushed up against it, she had only just stopped sobbing hysterically.

Gart sat on the bed with her in his arms as Emilie forced a cup of wine down her throat, floating with a palmful of crushed chamomile flowers to calm her nerves.

He rocked her gently, her head cradled against his chest, as Emilie forced her to drink every few seconds. Emberley would sob, breathe, and drink. It went on that way for what seemed like hours but the truth was that it was only minutes. It was agonizing.

“Why… why….?” Emberley sobbed.

“Shhhh,” Emilie put the cup to her lips again and forced her to sip the contents. “Quiet, now. Be still and calm yourself.”

As Emilie tended Emberley, she glanced at Gart. The knight was stone faced as usual but oddly pale. She struggled over her own fear and shock, swept with pity for the pair.  She fought back tears herself, unwilling to show weakness because Emberley was so upset. She was focused on calming her friend.

“Drink, sweetheart,” she whispered, holding the cup to Emberley’s lips again, watching the woman drink and sputter.  “That’s a good girl. Everything will be all right.”

Emberley calmed to the point where she was no longer sobbing hysterically, but she lay with her head against Gart’s chest, eyes closed and tears streaming down her face.   Emilie set the cup down and collected a kerchief from the wardrobe positioned against the wall near the door. She returned to the bed, gently wiping off Emberley’s cheeks.  When she looked up, Gart was gazing at her.

She smiled weakly at the man, knowing he was more than likely crazed to go downstairs to find out why Buckland was here with a supporting army from the Westminster. But his priority had been Emberley and he would not leave until he was sure she was in a better state. Emilie deeply admired his devotion.

“I will sit with her for awhile,” she murmured. “I am sure you would like to go downstairs and find out what is transpiring.”

Gart nodded faintly but the second he moved, Emberley exploded into hysterics again.

“Nay!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around him. “Do not leave me. Please do not leave me!”

Gart didn’t want to leave her but he was increasingly eager to find out why Buckland was downstairs. He forced himself to take a stand, putting his big hands on Emberley’s face and forcing her to look at him.

“Kitten,” he said softly, firmly. “You must listen to me. Stop your weeping and listen. Please. It is important.”

Emberley gazed back at him with wide, terrified eyes. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes watered over with tears.

“Please,” she begged. “Do not go down there. Let us leave, now, run far and fast so they can never catch us.”

He kissed her wet cheeks. “What about Orin, Brendt and Lacy?” he murmured. “We cannot leave now. We cannot leave them behind.”

She closed her eyes, a sob escaping her lips as she nodded. “Nay, we cannot.”

Gart sighed heavily, kissing her cheeks again. “I am going to go downstairs and find out why Buckland is here,” he told her firmly but gently. “It is very important to me that you compose yourself. I cannot think if I know you are hysterical because all I will be thinking of is comforting you. If I know you are strong, I will be strong.  Do you understand?”

Emberley swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “A-aye,” she hiccupped. “I am… am sorry to weep so. It is simply that… Julian is here and….”

He kissed her soft mouth, cutting her off before she could start crying again.

“I know,” he said softly. “I intend to find out why but I need for you to be calm and composed. It will help me immensely. Agreed?”

She nodded unsteadily, wiping at her nose as she labored to stop the tears. “I will calm,” she said with more bravery than she felt. “I will do my best.”

He smiled at her, cupped her face and kissed her one last time.

“Good girl,” he murmured. Then he stood up, peeling her hands from his arms and handing her over to Emilie. “I will be back as soon as I can, I swear it. But you stay here with the door bolted. You will not open it for anyone but me or David or the earl. Is that clear?”

Emberley nodded obediently. “It is, Gart.”

He winked at her as he moved to the door, noticing Romney standing in the corner, looking terrified. His heart softened as he gazed at the frightened boy, extending a hand to him.  Romney emerged from the corner and went to him.

Gart took a knee in front of the boy so he could speak to him at his level.  He was serious but gentle.

“I need you to watch over your mother until I return,” he put a big hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Can you do this?”

Romney nodded solemnly. “Aye, Gart.”

Gart patted his shoulder and stood up. “Good lad,” he glanced back at Emberley and gave her a smile. “I will return shortly.”

Gart pulled the chair away and unlatched the bolt, quitting the room.  Once he was gone, Romney rushed up and threw the bolt, shoving the chair up against the door again. He kicked it for good measure just to make sure it was solid. 

Turning to look at his mother, he could see that she was still crying, now quietly into her hand. Lady Emilie was trying her best to comfort her. Confused, frightened, Romney wandered back over to the corner where he had been standing, lost to his own young and turbulent thoughts.

His father was at Bellham, invading a place that had been full of joy and comfort for Romney and his mother.  He even  had a pony to ride. Now his father had ruined everything, like he always did. How many times had Romney wanted to protect his mother from his father’s brutal beatings, to comfort her and make her smile. He’d never been able to help her very much, but that was before. Now he was older, bigger, and Gart had taught him much about weapons and fighting. Well, for the most part. A wooden sword wasn’t an effective weapon but a real sword would be.

As Romney wandered over to the darkened corner, he brushed by the table where Gart had been sharpening his sword.  The pumice stone still lay there as did the five daggers Gart had brought up from the armory. 

 As his mother sat on the bed and wept, Romney eyed the daggers. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure his mother wasn’t looking, he shoved one of them into his tunic.

He had to protect her.

***

Outside on the landing, Gart heard the door shut behind him and the bolt thrown.  He stood there a moment, struggling to push his last vision of Emberley’s face out of his mind – terrified and pale. He heard the bolt relatched behind him, taking a deep breath to compose himself before heading downstairs. 

The moment he put a foot on the staircase, he saw David standing at the base of the steps. Quickly, he took the stairs to join him.

“How is she?” David asked softly.

Gart nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as if to rub away the stress. “Understandably upset,” he said. “But she is calming. Emilie is with her.”

David nodded. “Good,” he muttered, pulling Gart in the direction of the solar. “You and I must speak.”

Gart looked around as David pulled him aside. “Where is Buckland?”

David didn’t say anything until he pulled him into the solar and quietly shut the door. When he faced Gart, his expression was serious.

“He is in the reception hall with Father Mellitus, a canon at Westminster,” David ran a hand through his blond hair in a nervous gesture. “Gart, we have sent for Father Jonas. I believe we may need him.”

Gart didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Why?”

David lifted his shoulders, unsure where to start the sordid tale he was coming to understand.

“Because somewhere, somehow, Buckland has become a cunning opponent,” he replied. “He knew that all of the posturing and aggression in the world would not force us to turn Emberley over to him. Somehow, he figured out that I was involved in the ambush on his escort. I am not sure how he knew, but he did. You said that you left no trace? No survivors?”

Gart shook his head. “Nothing at all. We killed all of the witnesses and stripped the area of any identification. There is no way he could have known I was involved.”

David shook his head. “It is not you at all,” he said. “He thinks that I am involved solely, assisted by de Lara. Your name has not even entered into the conversation yet, but I am sure it will at some point, especially when Father Jonas arrives.”

Gart was increasingly apprehensive, a big hollow weight in the pit of his belly that was causing him to feel ill. “How does he know Emberley is here?”

“Call it a historical assumption. He may be an idiot, but he is not a fool. Somehow, he figured it out for himself.”

“But he has not seen her yet. Perhaps there is still time to escape unseen.”

David shook his head. “Papal guards are all over the grounds. There would be no way to remove her unseen.” 

Gart couldn’t imagine how the man knew Emberley was as Bellham but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was why he had come.

“You still have not told me why Buckland is here with a Westminster canon,” he said quietly.

David sighed heavily, turning to look at him but fearful of what he would see when he explained their purpose.

“Because Julian has gone to the Church to demand his wife returned to him,” he said after a moment. “Father Mellitus is here to take possession of Emberley and return her to her husband. You know as well as I do that we cannot refuse the Church – to do so would have unfathomable consequences.”

Gart stared at him, shocked. “Surely you cannot be serious.”

David cocked an eyebrow. “I am afraid I am.”

Gart continued staring at him, shocked. He needed to clarify to make sure he heard correctly.

“Buckland has asked the Church to intervene?” he finally rasped.

David nodded slowly, feeling so very sorry for Gart. “He has,” he replied quietly. “I have asked for a delay until Father Jonas arrives to mediate.”

“Mediate?” Gart repeated, incredulous. “What is he to mediate? There is no question that Emberley will not go with Buckland. She stays with me, Church or no.”

David sighed heavily. “Gart, do not make this more difficult than it already is,” he said. “If the Church demands Emberley, we cannot refuse.”