Serpent (44 page)

All three men were looking at Kevin with incredible sadness. William eventually put his hands to his face in disbelief, rubbing at his scratchy cheeks as if it would help him think. He was struggling to understand all of it but all he could see was death and heartache. Still, he understood it completely. He knew why Kevin did what he did and he utterly understood Penelope’s actions
. He was starting to feel sick.

“I did this,” he muttered. “I made the decision to marry her to de Shera. I am a warrior; I know these wars in Wales have been going on longer than I have been alive but when James was killed, I was eager to stop the wars so that I would not lose anymore sons. Now I
have placed my daughter on the front lines by marrying her to a Welsh warlord and it is quite possible I will lose her instead. I do not want to outlive my baby.”

Kevin staggered to his feet
. “Did you see her tonight?”

William had tears in his eyes. “Aye,” he said hoarsely. “She was set upon by some English and we killed them in order to allow her to escape.”

“What about Thomas and Edward? They rode with us.”

William shook his head. He blinked and tears popped onto his cheeks. “I did not see them,” he murmured. “
Kevin, you must return to Rhydilian, do you hear? Edward wants it. You must head back now and prepare the defenses.”

Kevin stared at him. “Edward wants Rhydilian?” he repeated
, confused. “But… why? Wasn’t that what de Shera’s marriage to Penny was supposed to prevent?”

“I do not have time to explain,”
William snapped. “Do what I say and go back to Rhydilian. I will follow as soon as I can. But right now, I must search the camp and make sure Thomas and Edward have not been killed. I must find my boys.”

It was a heartbreaking thought.
The man had done all he could to prevent losing more children and now he was faced with just that prospect. As William staggered off, heading towards the encampment again, Kevin, Paris, and Kieran watched him go. When Kevin turned back to his father with some uncertainty, he was startled when Paris lashed out a big fist and hit Kieran squarely on the jaw. Kieran fell to one knee, seeing stars, and Paris grabbed Kevin by the arm.

“Get out of here,” he told him
, thrusting him away. “You attacked us both and escaped. Do what William told you to do and go back to Rhydilian, Kevin. Go
now
!”

Kevin
ignored Paris’ pushing and reached down to help his father up. “I did not attack either of you,” he said. “If I….”

He was cut off when Kieran, regaining his balance, took a slug at Paris that sent the man flying onto his backside.

“Aye, you did,” Kieran said, breathing heavily. “You attacked us both and escaped. If you do not get out of here, I am going to forget I am your father and pound you within an inch of your life.”

Kieran jumped on top of Paris and they started throwing punches again. Kevin stood there, his mouth open at the sight of two old knights in hand to hand combat. In spite of their ages, they were landing some heavy blows, and he shook his head with exasperation.

“You are both mad!” he hissed. “What in the hell are you doing?”

Paris shoved Kieran’s face into the mud. “Unless they see that we are bruised and bloodied, they will not believe that you attacked us,” he spat. “Go now before we pull you into this fray!”

Kevin didn’t need to be told again. He understood what they were doing and he found it extremely endearing. But he had expected no less. With a grin, he ran off into the breaking dawn, heading south towards the same road that Penelope had taken.

As the sun rose and a clear day
loomed, Paris and Kieran beat each other to a pulp as Kevin escaped the clutches of the English king.

⌘

Rhydilian Castle

             
It was just after midday when Penelope came pounding up the road on her weary charger towards Rhydilian Castle. The few sentries she had left were on the walls and she could hear them shouting as she approached. By the time she reached the crest of the hill, the great iron gates were slowly creaking open.

             
The day was bright and cool as she entered the bailey and reined her frothing horse to a halt. She was exhausted and practically fell from the saddle, struggling to gain her footing. The flight from Aber before dawn and through damp fields until she reached the ferry had left her brittle and edgy. Only when she had crossed into Anglesey did she allow herself a measure of peace, but not completely until she reached Rhydilian. Now, she could finally relax somewhat. As she gained her balance and turned for the keep, the first familiar face she saw was Gwyllim’s.

             
The man was practically running at her from across the muddied bailey. He had been on the walls when she had approached the gates and had nearly killed himself trying to get down into the bailey. Penelope moved towards him.

             
“Gwyllim!” she gasped. “You made it back. Who else has returned?”

             
Gwyllim reached out to steady the very weary lady. In truth, he was both surprised and glad to see her. As the morning had passed into afternoon and she hadn’t appeared, he was increasingly worried that something had happened. Now, all he could feel was relief.

             
“Ianto is here,” he told her, “but Ivor has not yet returned.”

             
It was a grim statement. Penelope’s fingers dug into his arm as she held on to him. “And my brothers?”

             
Gwyllim pointed to the keep. “Inside.”

             
Her heart soared. “Both of them?”

             
“Aye.”

             
“And Bhrodi?”

             
“He is awake,” Gwyllim said, hesitance in his manner. “My lady, he was asking for you when he awoke and you were not here. Yestin had remained behind, as you recall, and he told him that you had left Rhydilian but he did not tell him why. Lord de Shera soon came to realize that most everyone had gone and when I returned, he made me tell him everything. I had little choice.”

             
He seemed worried but Penelope couldn’t muster the strength. All she knew was that she had to see her husband and that she would deal with his anger when the time came. It seemed like such a trivial thing, a little slip of anger, considering everything they’d been through. She broke off from Gwyllim, running those last few yards towards the keep. Her heart was pounding and in her exhaustion, her emotions were running wild. She slipped in the mud and landed on one knee but it did not deter her; with muddied hands, she scrambled up the steps that led into the keep, desperate to get inside.

             
The guts of the keep were cool and dark, lit only by what light managed to filter in through the lancet window. It was quiet and still. Bolting into the small feasting hall, she came into immediate contact with Thomas and Edward. They had heard her come in through the keep entry and were already moving towards her. Penelope threw her arms around Edward, the closest, and nearly strangled him.

             
“You are safe!” she exclaimed. “Praise God you are both safe.”

             
Thomas moved to hug her when she was finished squeezing Edward. “We were nearly the first ones to return,” Edward said. “We have been waiting frantically for any word of you and Kevin.”

             
Penelope’s excitement came to a halt with neck-breaking speed and she looked at her brothers with tears in her eyes.

             
“Kevin was captured,” she said hoarsely. “I was nearly captured, too, but Papa and Uncle Kieran and Uncle Paris saved me. They had heard that Bhrodi had been captured in the raid but I told them that it was Kevin disguised as Bhrodi. They went to help him.”

             
Edward was closer to Kevin than Thomas was; in fact, they were the best of friends. His features were particularly sorrowful.

“Damnation,” he rumbled. “The English will kill him in any case; if they think he is Bhrodi or if he confesses to being an English knight fighting for the Welsh. Either way, the man is dead.”

             
Bhrodi.
Penelope’s thoughts swiftly returned to her husband at the mention of his name and she could wait no longer to see him. She let go of her brothers and ran for the stairs that led to the upper levels.

             
“I must see to my husband,” she said as she moved. “Remain here and keep an accounting of who returns. I will return after I’ve seen to Bhrodi.”

             
“Be careful,” Thomas called after her. “He was none too happy to find out you rode for battle!”

             
Penelope simply waved him off as she raced for the third floor of the keep where the master’s chamber was situated. She was filthy, exhausted, sweaty and smelly, and in this form she burst into the chamber that smelled heavily of peppermint and vinegar. Her gaze immediately sought out her husband, who was lying flat on his back upon the big bed. He was conscious, however, and when their eyes met, Penelope raced to the bed and fell to her knees beside it. Her muddy fingers clutched at him.

             
“Bhrodi,” she said breathlessly, “I….”

             
Bhrodi cut her off; he reached down and grabbed his smelly, filthy wife and pulled her up onto the bed with him. His arms, still strong in spite of his physical condition, wrapped tightly around her.

             
“You have returned,” he murmured into her hair. “
Diolch i Dduw eich bod wedi dychwelyd
. Great thanks to God that you are back in my arms again.”

             
Feeling the man warm and alive against her undid her already-taxed emotions and Penelope burst into tears. Arms around him, she buried her face in his neck.

             
“I am sorry if you are angry with me,” she sobbed. “But I could not let your sacrifice be in vain. I had to help; I had to continue your cause whether or not you wanted me to. I know you do not want your wife to be a knight, but just this once I had to. I had to carry on your fight. Please do not be angry with me.”

             
Bhrodi kissed her head, her cheek, finally pulling her back so he could look her in the face. Cupping her head between his two enormous palms, he gazed at her as he had never gazed at anyone in his life. There was such joy in his expression. When she had burst into the chamber, all he could feel was gratitude. He’d never felt anything like it so strongly in his life. But the gratitude gave way to peace and adoration, so much so that it was filling his chest to bursting. He kissed her salty eyes, easing her tears.

             
“
Caria
, I am not angry,” he whispered. “I suppose I understand why you did what you did. When they first told me, I was terrified for you, I will admit it. I even tried to get out of bed to ride after you. But then I realized how fortunate I am to have a wife who would do such a thing for me. You are only doing what you have been trained to do and you understand honor in a way few women would. I do not have the words to express how humble and grateful I am that you would risk yourself so.”

             
It was more than she could have hoped for and she searched his face for any hint that he might not be telling her the truth. Maybe there was anger that still lingered. But she only saw total, utter support.

“I would do anything for you,” she whispered. “This was something I had to do.”

              He nodded. “I know,” he murmured, looking her over and seeing how dirty and beat she was. “Are you sure you are well?”

             
Penelope nodded, sniffling as she struggled to calm her tears. “I am,” she said. “My brothers are down in the hall.”

             
“I know,” he said softly. “I spoke to them at length about their stubborn sister.”