Archangel (5 page)

“I am glad,” she squeezed his hand and let it go. “Perhaps we will have more opportunity to speak in the next few days. Do you know when you are leaving?”

He shook his head, wishing she hadn’t let go of his hand. Her touch had been magic.

“I do not,” he told her. “My liege and your husband are debating that as we speak.”

She pulled her cloak more tightly around her slender body; the evening was growing cool and damp in spite of the bright moonlight.

“Then perhaps tomorrow we may….”

She was cut off when something hit the wall just behind Gart.  Startled, he jumped forward and threw his arms around her to protect her. But it was the wrong move; standing several feet behind him was Julian. The arrow he held in his left hand, the second of two he had collected from the armory after spying his wife and Forbes upon the battlements, when sailing in Gart’s direction. Gart put up an armored arm and easily deflected it.

Unwinding his arms from Emberley and turning to face Julian as the man approached, Gart could tell by his face that they were in for a good deal of trouble.

“Whore!” Julian screamed.

Gart remained cool, keeping Emberley protectively behind him. “My lord,” he said evenly. “Your wife and I were discussing days past when we knew each other. We were discussing her dead brother.”

Julian’s thin face was livid.  He approached Gart and slugged him in the chest, although with Gart’s size and Julian’s diminutive stature, Gart hardly felt the blow. Still, the implication was obvious.

“You are alone with my wife,” he snarled. “You had your arms around her in a disgraceful embrace. How dare you violate my hospitality by taking my wife and… and wooing her.”

Gart shook his head. “I did not violate anything, my lord,” he was calm and steady. “Your wife and I knew each other as children and were discussing….”

Julian cut him off by shoving him back and reaching around to grab Emberley by the wrist.  He pulled hard and she stumbled, nearly topping over the side of the wall railing.  Gart grabbed her to keep her from going over but Julian was wild with fury - he pounded on Gart’s steadying arm even as he yanked at his wife. 

Emberley didn’t put up a fight but she was trying to keep her balance as he yanked. Sensing her hesitation as resistance, Julian slapped her hard across the face.

“I will deal with you, you treacherous whore,” he snarled, lifting his hand to strike her again. “You are a….”

Before he could bring the hand down, Gart reached out and grabbed it. Julian turned to scream at him but was faced with an expression so tense, so deadly, that the words died in his throat. 

De Lohr was suddenly on the battlements, as were several other de Lohr soldiers, and they were moving for Gart in a group, trying to pull him away from Buckland.  Even Emberley, her right cheek stinging from the slap, reached out and grasped Gart by the arm.

“Gart, no,” she whispered, begging. “Please let him go.”

Gart heard her, as he also heard his liege behind him, firmly and quietly ordering him to let the baron’s arm go.  But at the moment, Gart could only see Buckland. From a man he had initially found distasteful and displeasureable, that displeasure had grow into full-blown loathing quickly.  All he could see was a weak bully of a man and he hated him for it.

“You will not strike her ever again,” he growled. “Is that clear?”

Julian was torn between fear and outrage. “You cannot make demands of me!” he howled. “I will do as I please with my own wife!”

Emberley’s soft voice infiltrated Gart’s rage. “Please, Gart,” she begged softly. “Please let him go.”

Her sweet, pleading voice broke through his haze of rage and he tore his eyes away from Buckland long enough to look at her.  She mouthed the world ‘
please
’, her big eyes beseeching him, and he reluctantly let the man’s hand go.  But Julian wasn’t a smart man – he slugged Emberley in the jaw simply to demonstrate his power and Gart went straight for his neck.

Emberley screamed as she fell onto the wall walk, trapped beneath Julian as Gart tried to break the man’s neck.  But soldiers and knights were swarming over them and someone pulled her free of the fighting. Shaken, she looked up to see that it was de Lohr.  His handsome face was taut as he made sure she was secure before diving into the fray.

Terrified for Gart, Emberley positioned herself back against the wall as she watched eight men pull Gart off her husband. He was such a big man and fed by such anger that his strength had been astounding. Julian was unhurt but he was furious, screaming threats at Gart. Knowing his wrath would eventually be turned against her, Emberley wisely fled the wall walk and raced for the keep, hearing the angry voices behind her filling the night with foul language and brutality. 

Heart pounding, Emberley mounted the steps into the keep, running up the spiral stairs until she reached her children’s chambers on the third floor. Scooping sleeping Lacy out of her bed, she fled into the boys’ bower and closed the door, throwing the heavy bolt behind her. It would take an army to break the old door down and all of the pounding and screaming Julian would do could not breach it.  She knew she was safe, at least for the moment.

 With her daughter still sleeping heavily in her arms, Emberley sank to the floor and wept. 

Chapter Three

“Thanks to you, I had to pledge men to Buckland’s cause whether or not I agreed with it,” de Lohr was rightfully seething. “What on earth possessed you to touch another man’s wife?”

Gart stood in the dark, dusty stables, silently and stoically taking a verbal lashing from his liege. He deserved it, he knew, but he didn’t regret his actions. Not one bit.  De Lohr knew this, which was why he was so furious. 

Gart Forbes was the best knight he had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of good men in his life. Many talented men had passed beneath his command or his brother’s command at one time or another. But Forbes was different - they didn’t call the man ‘Sach’ without good reason. He was power, strength, cunning and brutality all rolled in to one but, more than that, he was grossly unpredictable, as evidenced by the scene on the wall walk.

Gart could have easily snapped Buckland’s neck but he hadn’t - he just wanted to scare the man. Forbes had bouts of volatile fury but he was as cunning as a fox. He knew exactly what he was doing when he wrapped his hands around Buckland’s throat.

“I did not touch her, at least not in the manner you are suggesting,” Gart told him. “I swear upon my oath that we were simply talking.”

David gazed at him a moment, trying to read the unreadable face, before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I believe you,” he said, with less anger than he had been exhibiting earlier. “But Buckland has used this entire circumstance into blackmailing me for support.”

“Blackmailing?”

De Lohr nodded with some disgust. “If I provide him with four hundred men, he will not have you thrown in jail,” he said, throwing up his hands. “I have no choice. Unless I want to lose my best knight, then I must support him.  I hope you liked France because you will be heading back there shortly.”

The last sentence was spoken with some irony. Gart stared at de Lohr for a long moment before breaking down into a puzzled, disgusted expression. He just shook his head and turned away, pacing over to his charger. The beast was tethered in a far stall because he was so vicious, but with Gart, the black and white steed was as tame as a kitten.  The animal nickered softly as Gart approached and began stroking the big neck, giving it an affectionate slap.

“My apologies, my lord,” he finally said. “It was not my intention to put you in an awkward position.”

De Lohr sighed faintly, with regret. “What were you doing with her up alone on the battlements? Did you not stop to think that it was a compromising position to say the least?”

Gart shook his head. “We were speaking,” he reiterated. “I have not seen her in twelve years, this lovely young girl who was the sister of my best friend. Seeing her… it is as if I am seeing him again.  I simply wanted to speak with her. Perhaps old memories are clouding my judgment but I do not believe so. We did nothing wrong.”

De Lohr nodded his head in resignation. “Even so, you are not the one who will ultimately suffer in all of this. It will be her. Buckland is a vicious fool with a mean streak in him.  She will be lucky if he does not beat her senseless for this.”

Gart knew that but it didn’t help the raging fury he felt, starting in his toes and rising up through his big body. By the time it reached his head, his face was red and he was sweating.  De Lohr caught his expression and he put his hands up as if to stop the building tide. He knew that look well.

“There is nothing you can do about it,” he told him sternly. “Your interference is what caused all of this in the first place. Had you simply walked away….”

“He struck her,” Gart cut him off. “Could you have stood by while he did that?”

David rolled his eyes. “She is the man’s wife, Gart. He can do with her as he pleases.”

“Even assault her?”

“Aye, even assault her.”

“You did not answer my question. Could you have stood by and watched him beat her?”

De Lohr eyed him, finally shaking his head after a moment. “Nay,” he admitted, looking away. “But it is different with me. I am a man of rank and you are a mere knight. What you did, in most circles, would land you in the vault for the rest of your life.”

Gart’s jaw ticked dangerously; his face was still red and sweating, never a good sign. “I will not let him take out his anger on her. I cannot.”

De Lohr threw up his hands. “You have no choice,” he said. “Gart, I will send you home this night if you cannot control yourself. You are already in enough trouble. Any more from you and I may not be able to placate Buckland. He would throw you in jail and bury the key.”

Gart didn’t reply; anything more out of his mouth would get him in deeper trouble. De Lohr was only trying to help him and he knew it. 

There was a big pile of dry hay on the other side of his charger, stacked there by the grooms.  He made his way over to the hay and plopped down into it, lying back against the clean, scratchy stuff. Folding his hands over his chest, he closed his eyes.

David watched him a moment, knowing that Gart was doing what he needed to do to calm down and stay on an even keel. Without another word, he quit the stable for his own quarters in the keep, a small room that Buckland had allocated to him. 

Even as de Lohr made his way through the cold, bright night towards the distant keep, he knew that this was not the end of it.  He could feel it.  Gart felt as if he was protecting his best friend’s sister and unable to process that the fact she was another man’s wife took precedence. 

David wondered what horrors awaited them come the dawn.

***

Gart awoke to three little faces staring at him. Startled, he sat up, hay stuck to his back and arms.  It was just growing light outside, the sky in shades of pinks and blues as the sun pierced the veil of night. It was cold in the stable as the animals began to stir, hungry for their morning meal.  Gart rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Romney, Orin and Brendt gazed back at him.