Great Protector (38 page)

William
was still staring into the wall. Richmond braced his balled fists against the
table, leaning on his arms as he focused on the earl. "William, you must
hear me. Owen Glendower has discovered Arissa's true identity.  While we were
preoccupied with de Rydal's assault, two of his spies used it as convenient
cover to abduct Arissa. That was why Bartholomew was mortally injured; he was
attempting to protect her from the Welshmen who had come to abduct her.

William
appeared as if he hadn't comprehended a single word. Daniel's eyes widened
while Gavan, in complete understanding, clenched his teeth with fury. When it
became apparent that William was to remain non-responsive, Richmond opened his
mouth in a final attempt to force the man to understand that there was far more
going on than his son's death impending death.

But
William never gave him a chance. As if the impact of Richmond's words settled
deep, he leapt from his chair in a fit of shock and astonishment.

"Bart....
Bart was
defending
her?" he roared.

Even
Richmond was taken aback by the tone, although he did not outwardly react. His
gaze held steady. "Mossy witnessed the event. Bart was extremely brave,
but badly outnumbered." He did not bother to mention the fact that
Lambourn's heir lacked the necessary skills, too. Such a point was of no
consequence at the moment.

William,
however, did not seem the least bit mollified by the explanation. If anything,
his face mottled a deeper shade of red. Spittle formed on his lips. As the men
in the room watched, the Earl of Berkshire transformed from an intelligent,
rational man into a being of unrestrained madness.

"Owen....
Owen came for Arissa and killed my son," he muttered, nearly tripping over
his chair as he moved away from the table. "And Ovid.... this is all her
fault, Richmond. All of Tad's actions were a direct result of his attraction
for her and now my son is killed while trying to protect her from Henry's
enemies." He raked his fingers through his thinning hair, his eyes wild as
if everything suddenly became clear. "Everything that has happened this
day has been her fault!"

Richmond
faced him, his usually expressionless features gaining a degree of hostility.
"That is simply untrue. Listen to yourself, William; your grief is
speaking."

"Nay!"
William boomed, smashing his empty wine flask to splinters. "'Tis not
madness in the least. Henry's bastard has taken my son from me, as she’s very
nearly destroyed my keep as well! This is all her doing!"

Richmond's
body was tense; Gavan rose from his chair, eyeing his liege warily. He'd never
seen Richmond react in such a hostile fashion; the man had been issued endless
challenges, verbal insults and the like, and had never once showed an outward
reaction. To see his body coiled like a spring in the face of the earl's
ravings was disturbing to say the least.

"She
had nothing to do with any of it," Richmond's calm voice did not betray
his tight manner. "I forbid you to blame this catastrophe on her."

"You
forbid
me?"

William
was rapidly spinning out of control, his fatigue and grief decaying his sanity.
He kicked at an unfortunate chair that happened to be in his path, reaching
down to pick up the broken pieces and smashing them into kindling. Daniel was
on his feet, flanking Richmond with an astonished expression as William
descended into the darkened realm of madness. Even though the earl had never
been particularly adept at controlling his emotions, he had never raged out of
control as he was doing now. And all of it aimed at Arissa.

Richmond
well knew that the earl's rantings were that of a man gone temporarily insane,
but he was nonetheless apprehensive of his attitude. William was using Arissa
as a convenient excuse for his life suddenly gone wrong, the cause of his pain
and sorrow because he had no one else to blame. His insanity was irrational and
confusing.

But
it did not excuse the insults dealt. As the candles burned slowly and the log
fire crackled, the strain in the room grew to snapping proportions.

"William,
calm yourself before you hurt someone," Richmond said as steadily as he
could manage. "You are not thinking clearly."

William
was in the process of snapping a piece of wood, grunting and huffing as he
twisted and pulled. When the wood snapped sharply, he tossed it to the floor
and stomped on it like a spoiled child.

"I
always knew what could happen should Henry's enemies discover her
whereabouts," he rasped, spreading his hands in a display of disbelief,
imploring those present for answers to his agony. "Ovid supported Richard,
for God sake. Do not you see? He’s siding with the Welsh rebellion. But you
knew this else you would not have attacked Tad!"

Richmond's
jaw ticked. "I did not ambush Tad."

"You
did!” he accused. “Henry ordered you to disable his unfaithful, and you started
with the de Rydal heir in hopes of wiping out the entire barony. With Tad gone,
the legacy dies. All of this talk about defending Arissa's honor was a ploy, a
ploy invented by you to convince me that Tad de Rydal was a dishonorable
man," he suddenly stopped in the midst of his ravings and jabbed a thick
finger at Richmond. "You wanted me to throw Tad from Lambourn so that you
could do away with him and make it look as an ambush.
You
are to blame
for this, Richmond. You have brought Henry's war down upon us."

Richmond
sighed, passing a long glance at Gavan. The situation was moving from bad to
worse, the ranting of a man far gone with grief clouding the issues. The
further he spouted, the more apprehensive Richmond became.

"You
are mad, William. I shall not listen to this nonsense any longer."

William,
his teeth clenched tightly, threw himself in Richmond's path as the knight
attempted to quit the solar. His chest was heaving with emotion and pure
dementia, his foul breath cloaking the air.

"You
and that bitch are to blame for my son's death," he rasped. "I shall
gladly allow the Welsh bastards to have her so long as they leave us in
peace."

A
massive hand shot out, grasping William around the throat. Gavan and Daniel
leapt on Richmond as he shoved William back, back into the wall in a crash of
armor and flesh. Pathetic grunts and the sounds of a struggle filled the small
solar to the rafters, threatening to rupture the very walls.

Ignoring
Gavan's pleas for calm, Richmond focused on William. "You will listen to
me and listen well,” he hissed. “I have been Arissa's guardian for eighteen
years and I will not hesitate to kill you if your threat is sincere. However,
considering your grief, I will spare you for the moment," even as Gavan
and Daniel struggled to prevent him from strangling William, his grip
tightened. "But hear me; I had nothing to do with Tad's ambush, and Arissa
had nothing to do with the attack upon Lambourn. She’s a victim in all of this,
just as you and I are, and I shall not listen to your slander. Your son is
dying because he showed an ounce of courage to defend a fragile, weak woman,
and for no other reason than that. I will not allow you to cast the blame where
it does not belong."

In
Richmond's mighty grip, William labored to breath. Although somewhat subdued,
his insanity was not diminished. If anything, it was growing.

"I....
I am an earl," he rasped. "You will remove your hands under penalty
of death!"

Richmond's
grip tightened slightly, his nostrils twitching with menacing flare. "And
I am the guardian of royal blood. I will do what is necessary to protect
her."

With
that, he released the heavy man. William collapsed forward onto his knees,
gasping with every breath. Richmond turned away, moving for the door with Gavan
on his heels. Only Daniel and Mossy remained, staring at William as if he were
a creature from the unknown.

Daniel
felt the sticky terror and it frightened him; swallowing hard, he glanced from
William to Mossy and back again. He had no idea what to think, for the words he
had heard coming forth between the earl and Richmond were staggering. A fairly
simple man with simple thoughts, he could barely comprehend what he had heard.

As
Richmond hit the threshold of the room, William coughed violently and cried out
to him. "You will leave Lambourn and you will take her with you. If I see
her again, I shall kill her!"

Richmond
paused, his expression one of utter enmity. Gavan, directly behind him, put his
hands against his friend to prevent him from killing the man. The mood filling
the air was chaotic, completely erratic.

"No,
Richmond," Gavan commanded softly. "Let's go. We shall leave this
minute."

As
Gavan forcefully shoved Richmond from the solar and into the foyer, William
began to pound his hands against the floor. His mad ravings turned to
hysterical tears and he collapsed in a heap, clawing at the stone in his throes
of grief.

"My
son, my son," he sobbed, spittle running from his mouth and onto the
stone. "My legacy. All is lost without you."

Over
in the corner, Mossy drank the last of his wine. Not bothering to refill the
chalice, he drained the entire flask.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

Bundled
in layers of wool and covered with a heavy oiled tarp, Arissa sat beside one of
Richmond's soldiers on the bench of a wagon. Weeping softly, she hardly noticed
Richmond and Gavan move their company of weary men through the battered front
gates of Lambourn. Around her, the destroyed bailey was eerie and silent in the
midst of the driving rain, but she ignored that as well. She could only focus
on her grief.

Not
an hour before she had been whisked from her cozy bed by Richmond. With barely
a word, he commanded her to dress as warmly as possible while he and Gavan
packed everything they could fit into a single large trunk. When she demanded
to know what was amiss, her inquiry had been met with silence. And when Regine
and Emma had come to the door to see how she was faring after her harrowing
day, Richmond had barked them away so severely that Regine had burst into
tears. Arissa could still hear her sister crying through the closed door.

It
did not take an over amount of intelligence to realize they were leaving. But
she hadn't been permitted to say farewell to anyone and Richmond had carried
her, puzzled and bewildered, from the warmth of her bower into the mess that
had once been the bailey of Lambourn. As her bafflement wore thin, the tears of
fright and disorientation came and she struggled with them even now as Richmond
mounted his weary charger and ordered the wagon forward.

He
reined his mount next to her as the rig exited the open gates, partially burned
from the siege. Her pale green eyes fell on the thrashed panels of wood,
turning to gaze at her cherished home as the wagon made way into the night. The
tears fell harder and faster as she returned her gaze forward, mystified and
sorrowful.

They
were leaving, never to return. Even though he'd not said a word, she knew in
her heart that she was seeing her last of her beloved Lambourn.

They
were barely clear of the gates when Richmond reached out to touch her hand.
Startled, not to mention suddenly furious with him for his silence and cruelty,
she yanked her arm away. He did not say a word, nor did he look to her. After a
moment, he simply drove his charger forward into the midst of the column.

She
watched him from behind her soaked handkerchief, her fury rapidly fading. She
resisted the urge to call out to him, to apologize for her flash of anger. But,
Sweet St. Jude, she did not understand any of what had happened. Being swept
from her warm bed and thrust out into the raining dead of night had left her
rattled and bewildered.

Beyond
her grief and disorientation was the deeply puzzling question as to where,
exactly, was their intended destination. She suspected that Richmond was terribly
uncomfortable now that the Welsh rebels knew the whereabouts of Henry's
illegitimate daughter. They would return for her as they promised, and Richmond
had decided to move her immediately.

....
but move her where?

Another
charger moved beside her, jolting her from her thoughts, and she found herself
passing a long glance at Gavan. His visor was raised, keeping the rain off his
face, and he smiled when their eyes met. But she was not ready to give into his
kindness, either, and she lowered her red-swollen gaze. Gavan's smile faded as
his eyes lingered on her shrouded head; spurring his steed forward, he charged
through the rain and mud to reach Richmond.

"Talk
to her, Richmond," he said softly. "She’s bewildered and hurt, and you
are making it worse with your silence."

Richmond
ignored him. “I have sent a messenger to London to inform Henry of what has
happened,” he told him. “I have instructed him to wait for a reply.  Until and
unless we have a different directive, it is my intention to take Arissa
directly to Whitby. She will be safe there.”

Gavan
nodded at the business-like reply.  Richmond was being cold as only Richmond
was capable of doing, like a great block of ice. No emotion, no feelings.  Gavan
cleared his throat softly.