The Thunder Lord: The de Shera Brotherhood Book One (Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood 1) (21 page)

In the great hall of Isenhall, it was Maximus, Tiberius, Scott, Troy, Garran, Stefan, and Honey facing Hugh Bigod and several of the man’s retainers across the feasting table. Hugh had come to Isenhall earlier in the day, after a rather bad storm had rolled through, soaking everything with a heavy dose of very cold rain. The snow was virtually gone but the bad weather wasn’t. Hugh and his party were on their way to Kenilworth for de Montfort’s coming assembly but they stopped at Isenhall to bring the de Shera brothers along with them. Now, Hugh was coming to realize that Gallus wasn’t there at all, and his sense of displeasure was growing.

“How do you know he is coming home?’ Hugh wanted to know. “If you have not received word from the man for almost three weeks, how do you know?”

Maximus was in command of Isenhall. He didn’t have Gallus’ tact and tended to be blunt, especially in the face of stupidity. In his opinion, Hugh Bigod was definitely stupid. Stupid and dangerous.

“Because Gallus’ intention was to reach Rhydilian, collect his wife, and come home,” Maximus said, folding his big arms across his chest. “He had no reason to remain there and he knows that de Montfort will soon be calling an assembly. Given those facts, I can only assume he is on his way home but with the weather as it has been, you must give him time to travel, especially with a woman.”

That was not what Hugh wanted to hear. He set down his pewter cup of fine wine, glancing back at the men who had accompanied him. They were men who knew and respected Gallus, knights of the highest order. Hugh knew the men would give Gallus the benefit of the doubt even if Hugh would not. With a frustrated sigh, he faced Maximus again.

“He went alone?” he asked, looking to the de Wolfe brothers and Garran and Stefan. He pointed at them. “He did not take any of his men with him? I find that difficult to believe. The de Wolfe brothers alone are thick as thieves with Gallus. He does not go anywhere without them.”

Maximus was starting to lose patience. “I fail to see why you are so upset about this,” he said. “You knew Gallus was going to Wales when he left London. De Montfort knew it, too. Everyone knew he was going to Wales to size up what support he had from his ap Gaerwen holdings. The only difference now is that we know ap Gaerwen survived, so I am sure that he and the old man have a great deal to discuss. It will more than likely work in Gallus’ favor to have ap Gaerwen alive so the man can agree upon an allegiance with Coventry. Now, suddenly, you are upset and suspicious that he has gone to Wales? I fail to understand why.”

Hugh frowned, growing agitated at Maximus’ impatient statement. “Gallus also knew that de Montfort would be calling an assembly soon,” he fired back. “The man left in February, Maximus. It is almost April, and you are telling me that you
assume
he is making his way back home? What if he is not? What if he is being held in Wales against his will or, worse yet, has decided to remain there? The Welsh are in open rebellion as it is with Llywelyn ap Gruffydd declaring himself the Prince of Wales now. Mayhap that means something to his wife since she is from the House of Gwynedd. What if she has convinced him to remain and fight her wars for her?”

Maximus didn’t like the implication at all. “Are you suggesting that my brother would abandon his loyalty to England?”

There was hazard in his tone, deadly hazard, and Tiberius spoke quickly. “My lord, I understand that you are concerned for my brother’s safety,” he said to Hugh, soothingly, before Maximus pulled out a sword and went after Bigod with it. “You know Gallus enough to know that he would never abandon his loyalty to England, no matter what. He told us he was going to Wales to retrieve his wife and that he would return as soon as he could. I believe him and to suggest you do not slanders the entire House of de Shera. Surely you realize that.”

Hugh could see, between the remaining de Shera brothers and their powerful retainers, that he was walking on thin ice. He was all but calling out their honor so he took a deep breath, trying to calm his aggressive manner. He didn’t want Maximus to come after him with a sword, either.

“That is not my intention,” he said, sighing faintly. “I am simply concerned for Gallus. He is one of the most important cogs in the wheel of this rebellion and it will not do us any good to have an assembly without his input.”

“You are placing an extreme amount of importance on just one man,” Maximus said. He wasn’t about to forgive Bigod easily. “Could it be the fact that he is paying attention to the woman he married, a woman who is not your daughter? It sounds to me as if you are allowing your personal feelings to enter this equation.”

Hugh cast Maximus a long, unhappy glare. “My personal feelings have nothing to do with this.”

Maximus wouldn’t back down. “You challenged our honor so mayhap I should challenge yours,” he countered. “I will say that it is bitterness and jealousy that is causing you to question Gallus’ motives. If he had gone to Wales chasing after
your
daughter, you would not say a bloody word about it.”

Hugh bolted up from the table but his knights kept him in check, putting their hands on his shoulders to keep him from charging Maximus. Across the table, Scott and Tiberius put themselves between Maximus and Hugh, with Tiberius pushing his brother away in the hopes of cooling his rage. As the men shoved and postured, Honey, wrapped tightly in a woolen shawl, spoke above the grumbling.

“Bigod,” she said shortly, eyeing the man. “Sit down. Maximus is only speaking from love for his brother. It does seem rather odd that you are so concerned over why Gallus has not yet returned from Wales, however. He said he will return and he will.”

Because Lady Honey de Shera told him to, Hugh regained his seat, and for no other reason than that. Lady Honey was well respected by the nobility, as her husband had been, and her requests were not meant to be disobeyed. But Hugh was frustrated and angry, and that made a very bad combination indeed.

“Of course you will defend him,” Hugh said to her. “You are his mother and in your eyes he can do no wrong. Do you not think it strange that it has been close to two months and the man has not yet returned? What am I to tell de Montfort? He will want to know where his muscle is and I must tell him that the man is still in Wales!”

Honey had no patience for the man. She was feeling very poorly as of late and was in no mood for pleasantries. Moreover, Bigod had insulted her eldest, her Gallus, and he would pay the price.

“De Montfort trusts Gallus, as you should,” she said, her voice steely. “Maximus is correct. You would trust him well enough had he married your unattractive daughter, a woman you have been trying to pawn off on every young nobleman of rank for the past two years. Do not look so shocked. Did you think I did not know this? Gallus was your latest target and even had he not married Lady Jeniver, I would not have permitted him to marry a young lady that not even her father wants. Do not contest my statement because it is the truth and you know it. Now, let us move on to other subjects before your offense to my family causes me to make more unsavory accusations against yours. Gallus will return and when he does, I will send him on to Kenilworth. Did you have something more to say on the subject?”

She said it with finality. Hugh was red-faced with embarrassment and anger by the time she finished but, even so, he knew better than to lash out at the woman because it would result in a massive fight that he would probably lose. As good as his knights were, and they were very good, de Shera knights were better. Some of the finest houses in England served Gallus and his brothers… de Wolfe, de Moray, and du Bois. They were very young knights, but the skills and talents they possessed were renowned. Their family strengths were without question. Taking a deep breath to calm his rage, Hugh shook his head stiffly to Honey’s question.

“Nay, Lady Honey, I do not,” he replied, turning his attention to the de Shera knights because he didn’t want to engage the woman and any more of her venom. “What about you, de Wolfe? Your father has been summoned to the assembly also, as well as de Moray and du Bois. So has the entire family of de Lohr, which I believe you are related to, Stefan.”

Stefan was young but he also had his father and grandfather’s legendary cool demeanor. Maddoc du Bois and Rhys du Bois had been in the service of the king, and of the de Lohrs, for many years. Stefan faced Bigod with the respect that the position dictated. He did not face him because he liked him, because he did not. No one in that room did.

“I am, my lord,” Stefan replied. “My great-grandfather is David de Lohr, who is the brother to Lady Honey’s father, Christopher.”

Hugh looked between Honey and Stefan. “Then you are related to each other.”

Honey nodded, not particularly interested in discussing her family ties with Hugh. “We are indeed,” she said. “How do you think he came into the de Shera service? Now, if you are quite finished with your business here, I will offer you shelter and food until you depart for Kenilworth, which I hope will be no later than tomorrow.”

It was a sincere insult, projected in the nicest way, and Hugh had no choice but to accept it. Pursing his lips irritably, he nodded.

“Aye, Lady Honey,” he sighed. “We will be gone tomorrow.”

Honey stood up. “Excellent,” she said, holding out her hand so Maximus and Tiberius could assist her away from the table. “I will not see you before you leave so I wish you a safe journey. If you need supplies before you go, I will make sure you are provided with what you need.”

With that, she turned away from the table as Tiberius handed her over to Stefan, who carefully escorted the woman from the room. Lady Honey required a good deal of help these days and there was always a knight around to assist her. They were, in a sense, extensions of her sons and she treated them that way. As Honey and Stefan left the hall, out into the cold, muddy bailey beyond, Maximus and Tiberius faced Hugh and his retainers.

“Your men can sleep in the hall,” Maximus told Hugh. “I will provide you with a room in the keep if you wish.”

Hugh looked at Maximus, an almost baleful look. There was so much more he wanted to say but he knew it would not be prudent of him to do so. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

“My thanks,” he said, although he didn’t sound as if he meant it. “Will you and your brother be traveling to Kenilworth with us on the morrow?”

Maximus considered the question. Given the circumstances, and Hugh’s attitude towards Gallus’ absence, he thought it wise if he or Tiberius went with the man, if only to fend off the rumors that Bigod would undoubtedly circulate about Gallus. Someone had to be there to defend the absence of Gallus to de Montfort. Even though the man knew Gallus was going to Wales, as it was common knowledge between all of them, still, Bigod could put a twist on it that didn’t exist. A bitter man could do many things, including ruin reputations, and that was what Maximus was worried about.

“Aye,” Maximus said. “I think we should.”

Hugh fought off a smirk, as if he had won some sort of victory by forcing the de Shera brothers to accompany him to Kenilworth. “Excellent,” he said. “De Montfort will be pleased to see at least two out of the three de Shera brothers. As your mother said, she will send Gallus along as soon as he returns home.”

There was doubt in that statement simply by the tone, but Maximus didn’t flare. He simply cast Bigod a very long, very hateful glare before turning away, heading from the warm, musty hall. Tiberius, the de Wolfe brothers, and Garran followed, although Garran was sent back into the hall under the guise of being available to fulfill Bigod’s requests when he had really been sent back to watch the man.

Politics were tricky and an ally one moment could be an enemy the next. Maximus didn’t like the way Hugh was speaking of Gallus so, in his opinion, the man warranted watching. He didn’t trust him.

He had good reason not to.