The Agents of William Marshal Volume I: A Medieval Romance Bundle, page 129
Some of the mercenary army had decided to boldly bed down in the bailey for the night, half of the men drinking around assorted bonfires while the other half slept in the mud like strewn-about rag dolls. Barric and Sean stepped over and around men, finally reaching the musty, warm stable block. Sean led Barric directly to the pile of hay where he had left Sloan.
“He’s not here!” Barric crowed. Indeed, there was an indentation in the hay, but no body. Barric turned angrily to Sean. “Where is he?”
The knight shook his head. “I do not know, my lord. He has apparently recovered and fled.”
Barric almost struck Sean in anger but thought better of it. It wasn’t the fact that the knight held the baby. Sean was an enormous knight with a deadly reputation and it would not be wise to anger him. Barric clenched and unclenched his fists before finally shoving the knight aside in his haste to return to the keep.
“He must have gone back into the castle,” he said. “We must find him!”
“He is probably hiding, my lord.”
Barric snorted rudely. “Not Sloan. He’s undoubtedly plotting his next move against us.”
“Next move?”
“Taking the child from us, as we took it from him.”
Sean didn’t reply, thinking this was all becoming rather ridiculous. But clearly, Barric didn’t think so. He was too preoccupied, too furious. Entering the castle, they moved through the entry with the crying baby, ordering soldiers to aid in the search for Sloan. When the entire castle was finally in an uproar, they entered the stifling solar and took seats by the hearth to wait.
The king had long since vacated with the dancing maid and they had the chamber to themselves. Now that all of Rockingham was alerted, it would only be a matter of time before de la Roarke was located. The child had since fallen into a fitful sleep in Sean’s arms, and the knight cradled her more gently than he ever had. The little thing was beginning to grow on him.
Barric ordered food. Brooding, he drank his wine and pondered what evil, torturous things to do to de la Roarke. After several minutes, two serving wenches brought out great platters of warmed mutton and boiled vegetables. One woman went to Barric, the other to Sean. The knight waved the food away, but Barric was greedily helping himself.
Suddenly, the wench holding the tray for Sean shoved the entire mess squarely into the knight’s face. At the same time, the woman assisting the Lord Justice also dumped the steaming food onto Barric’s lap. While the Lord Justice howled and staggered to his feet, Sean lost his balance and toppled backwards. Quickly, the wench reached out and jerked the baby from Sean’s arms; the scarf covering her head came away as she dashed madly from the room, closely followed by the second serving woman. Willa and Norma had taken control of their little charge but, in doing so, Norma had taken the time to deviously trip the Lord Justice in the mess of food before fleeing.
She wanted to make sure he didn’t follow.
Barric, however, was quickly on his feet. Roaring, he regained his balance as Sean struggled up beside him. Before they could pursue, however, a large, weighted net normally used to fish in the castle’s pond dropped from the gallery above, tangling them both in a mess of hemp and lead. Barric growled like a cat in a snare, gazing up to the balcony long enough to see Sloan de la Roarke as the man looked down upon them like a conquering Caesar.
His victorious grin said it all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The approach to Rockingham Castle
Later that night
“Goddamn soldiers,” Bradford growled. “They are everywhere. Foreign bastards polluting our sweet English soil.”
Chadwick, Bradford, and Anthony rode into the outskirts of Rockingham Castle where most of the mercenary army was encamped. At this time of night, most men were sleeping and they were careful not to disturb them. The moon occasionally came out from behind the silver clouds, lighting their way as they moved toward the great castle of Rockingham. The hundreds of torches that lit the place, so brilliant when lit at dusk, now burned low and dark against the black sky. The air around them smelled like urine and animals, compounded by the dampness of the winter season. It made for a gloomy ambience. Reaching the great gates, of which one was open, they left their mounts tethered outside and proceeded into the cluttered bailey on foot.
The keep was open, though the party-like atmosphere had calmed for the night. Drunken bodies littered the floor as they made their way to the keep and entered the foyer.
Chadwick came to a halt.
“I shall go to Teodora’s chamber and see if the babe is still there,” he said in a low voice. “You two wait for me here. If the child has been moved, then we’ll need to formulate a plan of action.”
Bradford and Anthony nodded. Not being familiar with the keep, they didn’t want to go looking on their own. But abruptly, from the solar off to their right, they heard what sounded to be angry hisses. But the words grew louder, more succinct, and the men were lured to the doorway by their natural curiosity.
What they saw inside the chamber surprised them – Barric and another knight they couldn’t see were being removed from a great net. Several soldiers stood around, some helping, some not. It was obvious that several were quite amused and struggled to hide their laughter. The Lord Justice was so tangled inside that he could barely breathe. Angrily, he admonished his men to take care as they cut away the net.
“Careful, you fool!” Barric shouted. “You’ll cut something vital and then I shall cut out your heart!”
The big knight was the first to come free of the net and they realized it was Sean de Lara. He was covered in brown slop and the soldiers stood away from him as he shook himself like a dog. Looking up from the mess all over him, his eyes immediately found Bradford.
“De Rivington!” Sean exclaimed softly.
Barric heard him. His angry face slackened with shock as he, too, fixed on Bradford as the man stood in the doorway. He suddenly wasn’t so concerned with the net.
“It… it’s you!” he sputtered. “Where is your daughter, man?”
By the Lord Justice’s expression, Bradford suspected he had fallen into a bad situation. It wasn’t the words spoken, but the entire manner of the room. Even the soldiers tensed as if preparing to pounce. And from the mangled net and food on the floor, Bradford could see that something grim had happened. He didn’t want to know what. He suddenly felt the sudden urge to leave the room, quickly.
“If you will pardon us, we’ll be about our business,” he said.
He spun on his heel, shoving Anthony out before him. But Barric yelled and the soldiers raced after them. “Wait!” he shouted, even as his soldiers grabbed Chadwick. Bradford was next, followed by Anthony.
A brief struggle ensued, but it was futile; Bradford and the others were easily outnumbered. Sean was already upon them, stripping them of their weapons, but his heart wasn’t in it. It was simply something he had to do. The illusion that he was loyal to the king had to be preserved at all times. As Sean yanked Bradford’s broadsword out of his sheath, Barric finished working himself free of the net.
Bradford was furious. “What is the meaning of this?” he roared at Sean. “Release us at once. And give me back my damned weapon!”
Sean grabbed the man by the hair in a brutal move, but he had to speak with him and he had to make it look as if he were leveling off a threat.
“Not a word about where we have been or we all die,” he hissed at Bradford. “Do you understand me?”
Bradford looked at him, confused and angry, but he could sense that this situation, whatever it was, was fragile. Having no choice but to agree with Sean, he nodded faintly. Sean let him go, shoving the man back by the head.
By now, Barric was upon them, looking at Bradford and Chadwick and Anthony with great suspicion. “You are not going anywhere until you answer my question,” he replied. “Where, my lord, is your beautiful daughter?”
So they want Teodora, Bradford thought quickly. After what Sean had said, he knew to keep his mouth shut on the subject.
“What has she got to do with anything?” he demanded.
“A royal matter, my lord. Where is she?”
“Is she in trouble?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are you restraining me?”
“Because I do not want you to run off before you can give me the answers I seek.”
Bradford thought a moment. Then, a sickening feeling swept him. He couldn’t explain it, but it seemed to jolt him to his very foundation. “My granddaughter,” he growled. “Where is she?”
“You will answer my question.”
“You will answer mine first.”
Barric’s cheeks flushed with anger. He walked toward Bradford, deliberately, pondering his next question. But Bradford met his gaze, haughty and unafraid, and Barric could feel his veins pulse with rage. This man does not know his place in life, he thought. He’s proud and unwavering. And he’ll not answer my question without good reason. He repressed the urge to slap Bradford in the face, instead, resorting to a much better tactic.
“Tell me what I want to know or you will never see your granddaughter alive again.”
His statement had the desired effect; Bradford’s face flushed brilliant red. “You little bastard,” he hissed. “Tell me where the goddamned baby is or I shall kill you where you stand!”
Barric loved to be in control. Even if he was bluffing, Bradford had no way of knowing that. “You are in no position to make threats, Bradford.”
Bradford struggled against the soldiers restraining him. “Twenty men couldn’t hold me where the safety of my granddaughter is concerned. I shall quarter every one of them and then I shall go to work on you!”
Barric laughed without humor. “Promises, promises.” His smile abruptly vanished; his patience was wearing thin because he knew Bradford would never give him the information he sought unless he pushed his advantage. “Now, you will listen to me. I would know where your daughter is. If you do not tell me, I will kill the baby right in front of you. Is that what you want?”
At Bradford’s side, Chadwick’s expression was one of deadly sincerity. “I should have let you die, you son of a bitch,” he muttered. “When I was asked to save your life, I should have let my knife slip and no one would have known otherwise. Is this the kind of man I have saved? One who makes threats against a helpless child?”
Barric cast him a long glance. “You saved a man who is as cunning as he is wise, my lord physic.” He looked back to Bradford. “Well?”
Bradford’s face was beaded with perspiration. He was trapped and although he couldn’t be sure that Barric would carry out his threat, he didn’t want to take that chance. Still, his anger and sense of outrage was overwhelming and when he looked at Sean, seeing how the man was reacting to all of this, all he received was an imperceptible shake of the head.
Do not tell him!
Bradford had to believe that Sean would prevent such a thing. He didn’t know the man, but he had to have faith. Therefore, when Barric moved close enough, Bradford spat in his face.
“There is my answer, you dimwit,” he hissed. “Kill the baby and you’ll never have your answer. Kill me and you most certainly will never know. To torture an old warhorse like me would be futile because you know I shall never tell you anything. I shall die first.”
Barric was no longer in control. Somehow, Bradford had now taken charge. His smug expression faded and he balled his fist, roaring as he hurled it at Bradford’s nose. His hand made contact and blood spurted, but Bradford did nothing more than laugh. Even as red rivers streamed down his lips and onto his teeth, all he did was grin. Bradford’s macabre expression only infuriated the Lord Justice beyond reason.
“Get him out of here!” he cried. “Get him out before I run him through!”
Sean took Bradford, Chadwick, and Anthony down to the great vault of Rockingham. He didn’t have a choice. When the hall was empty and Barric had cooled his flaming anger, he took a few household soldiers with him and went in search of Sloan and the two errant wenches.
He would kill them when he found them and end this foolish game once and for all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Rockingham Castle
Midnight
“I’ve never seen so many soldiers,” Dessa murmured in awe. It was practically the first sentence she’d spoken since she and Teodora had embarked on their journey. “This must be all of the soldiers in England.”
Wrapped in a dark cloak that Owen had supplied to hide her feminine features, Teodora’s eyes moved over the great gathering of men and animals around Rockingham Castle’s great walls. At this late hour, they were sleeping, and she was thankful for the fact as her borrowed steed plodded softly amongst them. The entire point of her returning in disguise was so Barric and the king would not know that she had returned for, surely, they would ensure she never left again. And she had to get her baby and leave. The moon above, when it came out from behind intermittent clouds, provided ghostly gray light by which to see by.
As they moved along, Teodora glanced over her shoulder at the small-boned lady riding at her side. The woman had been introduced as Owen’s sister-in-law, the Lady Dessa-Etienne of Guillaume. The silence between them, until this moment, had been an oddly strained one.
“A good many of these men are from other countries,” Teodora replied belatedly to Dessa’s statement. “What you see is the bulk of John’s mercenary army.”
So this was the feared mercenary army. Dessa took a good look at them. To actually see the thousands of men in what seemed to be a fairly organized group was truly frightening. It was a bigger army than she had ever seen and could ever hope to fight.
The army that had wounded Cullen.
“So very many of them to support the king,” she murmured. “It makes Owen’s resistance seem so… futile.”
Teodora shook her head. “England needs men like Owen the Black, men willing to resist the tyranny so rampant in this country. And it makes me proud that Cullen was a part of it.”
Dessa looked at her, puzzled. “Cullen?”
“Aye. My husband, Cullen.” Teodora couldn’t understand why Dessa looked further perplexed. “The injured man I came for?”
Recognition dawned. “You mean Monty.”
Teodora nodded. “Aye, Monty.”
Dessa studied the woman with a bit more scrutiny. She’d all but ignored the tall beautiful woman since their introduction. She knew very well who she was and found that she had a powerful aversion to her, for obvious reasons. This was the woman who had Monty’s heart, and always would. There was hurt there, although she’d pretended otherwise. In truth, she found herself overwhelmingly curious about the woman Monty could love.
“When he first came to us, he would not tell us his name,” she said. “Owen began calling him montagne, meaning mountain. Somehow it became Monty, the Champion of Thieves.”
Teodora almost laughed. “Champion of Thieves? God’s Bones, what a reputation.”
“A reputation you said not a moment ago that you were proud of.”
Teodora sobered. “I am. But if you only knew how noble and moral Cullen is… well, to be labeled the Champion of Thieves is rather paradoxical for him.”
Dessa’s eyes flashed with indignation. “He’s a fine man and a great warrior. He has taught me well in the warring ways.”
Teodora looked at her again, sensing some jealousy, or perhaps even competition. Cullen had sworn he’d been faithful to her, but had this pretty little woman been something of a temptation? The way she was speaking of Cullen, Teodora wondered. But the truth was that she never once doubted that Cullen had been truthful. The man was as solid as a rock. Perhaps he had been tempted, but thinking she was dead, she couldn’t blame him. She wouldn’t have even blamed him if he’d followed through.
But she was very glad he hadn’t.
“As I said, I am very proud of him,” she said after a moment. She would not indulge the woman’s apparent challenge. “And all you say about him is true; he’s a fine man and a great warrior. I am glad he was able to teach you warring skills.”
Dessa watched Teodora carefully, somewhat bewildered that the woman’s anger hadn’t risen against her. She had been very cool, agreeing with the assessment of her husband. It made Dessa feel rather small that her bold words had been so deftly handled, though jealousy had not motivated her statement – it was possessiveness.
Monty belonged to Owen’s people, as their champion. She didn’t want him to return to the woman they were referring to as his wife. But the more she gazed at Teodora, the more she realized that a gaggle of outlaws could not compete against such a fine, beautiful lady. It was only right that Cullen return to his true and happy life with the woman he loved. In that, Dessa felt a good deal of disappointment.
But she understood.
The women fell silent as they approached the open gates of Rockingham. There were sentries on guard duty. But because there were so many unknown men wandering about, the Rockingham soldiers didn’t give much notice to the two cloaked figures entering the bailey on horseback. Still, it was obvious that they were women, and it was a strange sight to see women riding in the midst of sleeping men. One man reached up and grabbed hold of Teodora’s arm.
“You,” he growled. “Where do ye think ye’re goin’?”
A bolt of panic shot through Teodora. She had commanded these men, once. They knew her on sight. She struggled to keep the hood of her cloak pulled over her face.
“We’ve… we’ve business with the Lord Justice,” she said, altering the pitch of her voice so she wouldn’t sound like herself. “Let us pass, please.”
He held her tight, his gaze moving up and down her person. Then he looked at the horse; it was a fine steed. The soldier, now suspicious, tried to look at Teodora’s face.
“What business?” he demanded.
