The Agents of William Marshal Volume I: A Medieval Romance Bundle, page 132
That was quite possible. There was no telling what Cullen’s friend had told The Marshal when he’d sent the man word on Cullen’s behalf. “But it’s not a sizable army at all,” Owen said. “No more than a minor inconvenience to a force the size of the king’s.”
“As we are no more than an inconvenience, my lord. But two inconveniences can create chaos if utilized correctly.”
Owen stared at the road a moment longer, his mind working furiously. He was mentally calculating at what point on the road the two armies would meet. The more he pondered the situation, the more determined he became.
He turned to the men around him.
“Gather everyone to me,” he said quietly. “We have a slight change in plans.”
The older man continued to stand by Owen as the others went to do his bidding. “What does my lord plan to do?” he asked quietly.
Owen leaned forward on his saddle and scratched his head thoughtfully. “I plan to let these armies be distracted with each other while we rescue the Lady Teodora. Like the thieves we are, we’ll slip in and steal her and no one will be the wiser. They’ll be so consumed with each other that they’ll hardly notice a band of outlaws confiscating a lone lady and child.”
“Let their confrontation work for us?”
“Indeed.”
The older man smiled. His young lord was a wise one at that.
Holly must have had an exhausting night.
They were on the road now, and Teodora could only imagine the worst as she watched the babe sleep exhaustedly against her breast. The king’s carriage moved over the bumpy road, jostling them about, and Teodora held the infant tightly. It wasn’t so much the harsh movement of the cab as it was her fear that Holly would somehow be taken from her again. The king and a very pale-faced male attendant sat across from her, watching her every move, and Teodora was so uncomfortable and distressed that she could hardly stand it.
Other courtiers rode around them, shielded from the fog and elements by canopies held high over their heads by gaudily-dressed servants. Teodora had seen a few of these men at Westminster, all of them noble-bred with titles. Sloan used to be among them. They were advisers, conversationalists, and more. Each seemed to have a specific role in the life of the king, but it seemed to her that this march to Leicester wasn’t a favored activity.
Still, they were here because of the king and his generosity was great to those who supported him. That reason alone, she knew, was their motivation.
Sean, oddly enough, was nowhere to be found on this dank morning, but Barric rode directly beside the cab, astride the very horse that Teodora had borrowed from Owen. She was sure he was doing it on purpose, reminding her of her failed escape attempt. She watched him through the window, watching the Lord Justice of Rockingham riding a horse that had once belonged to his nemesis.
In truth, the joke was on Barric.
But even as she laughed silently at the man, she knew that Barric also rode the animal to remind her of her captive status. He wanted to make very sure that she knew he was no longer willing to tolerate her haughty nature, or her attempts to control the situation, and that anything she had, he could take from her easily.
But in truth, she hardly cared.
Across from her, the attendant poured wine for the king and offered some to Teodora. She declined. The king slowly savored his drink, studying her openly.
“My lady is weary this morn,” he commented. “You’ve been up racing about all night, so I hear?”
He was a disgusting, greedy little man. Teodora didn’t look at him as she replied. “I was unable to sleep because my daughter was not brought to me as I had asked, Your Highness.”
The king sensed reproach in her tone. Rather than become incensed, he eyed her solicitously. “I would do anything you asked, of course, given the proper assurances.”
She looked at him, knowing immediately what he was suggesting. She wasn’t sure if she could calmly respond. “I would ask nothing of you, Your Highness, except freedom for myself and for my father and his friends.”
He smiled lasciviously. “I will grant it, certainly. But at a cost.”
She hated herself for asking, for she undoubtedly knew the answer. Still, she knew this moment would have to come sometime.
“And what is that cost, Your Highness?”
He handed the wine chalice back to his attendant. Leaning forward, he reached out a long, skinny finger and gently stroked Holly’s exposed hand. Teodora shuddered involuntarily at the king touching her sweet little baby.
“One night,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “One night with you would pay for their freedom.”
She wasn’t shocked by his answer. In fact, he hadn’t disappointed her because she had known exactly what it would be.
“You are making a request, Your Highness,” she said. “Does this mean that you wish me to come to you of my own free will rather than order me to comply?”
He nodded. “You may understand it that way.”
“Then you are giving me a choice?”
His smug expression faded. “There are no choices in life. Only decisions to be made.”
“And if I decide not to accept your offer, Your Highness?”
“You are an intelligent woman, Lady Barklestone. You should already know the answer.”
She did. Teodora hated herself for not standing up to him, but it was a difficult situation and she was cornered. To protect her child, her father and the others, she had to behave, at least for the moment. But she simply couldn’t bring herself to answer him. She was a woman of honor and her father had raised her to hold true to her word. But in this case, perhaps a lie was the only real choice.
The king was leering at her, waiting for her answer and knowing what that answer would be. Teodora could feel his stare creeping over her and she fought the sickening feeling it gave her.
“Do you trust my word, Your Highness?” she finally asked. Her voice was faint, as if all of her energy had left her.
He settled back against his cushioned seat, holding out his hand for another chalice of wine. “You are a woman of honor.”
“Then you trust me?”
He was cunning and knew that she was asking questions for a reason. “I trust your word, my lady,” he clarified. “Were you to make me a promise, I would trust you. But would I trust you with my life, my fortune, or my most private secrets? I cannot say that I would. You understand, of course.”
“Of course,” Teodora repeated, her eyes glittering. “Then if I were to tell you now that I would agree to your terms, would you believe me?”
He fought off a gloating smile. “I would be honored to.”
Teodora took a very deep, very reluctant breath. “Then I would agree to your terms. But…”
“But… what?”
“But you will release my father first.”
The king’s jaw slackened, realizing he had played into her hands. “But… that is to say, I do not…”
Teodora would not let him twist her words or the terms she had laid forth. “You said that you trusted my words, that I was a woman of honor. Therefore, since I have agreed to your terms, I say that you will release my father first and I shall still adhere to my agreement. If you trust me in this matter, as you say you do, then surely you will be more than glad to grant my request. What good is holding this man if you already have what you want?”
The king didn’t reply for a moment. He stared at Teodora, trying to determine if he had been duped or not. He didn’t like that the situation wasn’t precisely to his terms. But he had what he wanted, her agreement, and that was the most important element.
“Very well, my lady,” he said finally. “I shall release your father.”
“And the others? Anthony and Chadwick?”
He nodded slowly. “Them, as well.”
Teodora felt a tremendous wave of relief. She was beginning to understand this game of politics, the give and take of this arena she found herself in. She wondered if the king had any idea that she had no intention of keeping her bargain. I told him that I agreed to his terms, she told herself firmly, but I did not promise him. There was a fine technicality in that, but a technicality nonetheless.
And she felt absolutely no guilt.
Teodora sat expectantly as the king motioned to the Lord Justice, just outside the cab door, and she took delight in the expression on Barric’s face as the king gave him the order. With one less worry on her shoulders, for she had no doubt now that her father and the others would truly be released, she could focus better on escaping the king and returning to Cullen.
It was the only thing on her mind.
She could only hope that Dessa had returned to tell him what had happened so he didn’t think she had run away. She didn’t expect him to come for her, given how ill he was, so the truth was that she would have to figure a way out of this for her and for her daughter. All she wanted to do was return to Cullen. She didn’t care if they lived in the woods, in a tree, or in a field. As long as they were together, that was all that mattered. It was killing her, even now, to be away from him.
Lost to her thoughts, Teodora didn’t hear the first sound of alarm. Men were shouting and taking up positions. Gradually, she became aware of a low roar, like a crowd of people cheering. More shouts of panic echoed through the column and the sounds of weapons being drawn filled the air.
Teodora was more curious than frightened, for she knew that soldiers often overreacted to the slightest of situations. Sticking her head from the cab’s window, she watched the men around her swarming. Barric was shouting orders hurriedly and Teodora listened closely to what he was saying.
Another army is approaching.
Concern crept over her and she shifted her hold on Holly, pulling her tighter. The king didn’t seem the least bit concerned, even when Barric came to the carriage with his broadsword wielded and his face glistening with sweat.
“The Marshal’s army approaches, Highness,” he said.
John cocked a black eyebrow. “William Marshal in Rockingham? What do I care?”
Barric looked at him grimly. “You will care because he is with the de Lacy army.”
The king’s eyes were piercing on the Lord Justice. “Is this true?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Then how is it that William Marshal and Preston de Lacy have come, so coincidentally, at the very time my army is leaving the safety of Rockingham?”
Barric shook his head. “I do not know, Your Highness. Mayhap it is mere chance that…”
The king interrupted him. “William Marshal does not appear anywhere by chance, and he certainly does not appear with Preston de Lacy.”
“But William Marshal is not your enemy.”
John shook his head. “But de Lacy is,” he pointed out. “Moreover, William Marshal would not be traveling with a full army if he had only come to greet us. I do not trust the man. He has turned against me before.”
Barric was growing increasingly worried, mostly because what the king said was true. A pleasant visit by William Marshal would not have constituted a fully-equipped army bearing standards and knights, and it certainly would not have included de Lacy. They were coming with a purpose and, being naturally paranoid, he was leaning toward the king’s reasoning.
“Shall we set up defensive lines, Your Highness?” he asked. “The men are confused and worried.”
John was confused and worried, too. “Damn him,” he hissed. “The only reason The Marshal and de Lacy would be mustering an army this far north would be to…”
He abruptly trailed off, realizing that Teodora was listening to him. He didn’t want to reveal his thoughts any more than he already had. His cheeks flushed and he reached for more wine. When the attendant didn’t move fast enough, he kicked the man from the cab through the open door. Teodora tried to stay back, away from the scuffling, as the furious king tossed aside his servant and slammed the door in his wake.
“Set defensive lines, Barric,” he ordered. “Set them immediately until we know what William’s business is.”
Barric didn’t have to be told twice.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
It wasn’t a quiet clash.
From their hiding places in the trees, Owen and his men waited until the opposing armies blended together like ingredients to a complicated, unpredictable stew. Swords and warriors intermingled violently, creating a maelstrom of chaos that Owen intended to utilize. He and his men watched apprehensively from the safety of the forest as the white and green of William Marshal’s army, along with the blue and silver of the House of de Lacy, engaged the bulk of King John’s mercenary force. Owen watched for several minutes, awed by the spectacle.
It was a powerful struggle.
Owen didn’t dare look at his men, fearful that he would see hesitation in their eyes. Perhaps seeing the reality of the battle would deter them from their goal. But Owen knew his men, and he knew their bravery, and he would have been surprised if they had suddenly turned cowards. The heat of the fighting was loud in their ears, carrying on the mist of the morning. Clearly, they could see the Rockingham cab, surrounded by the king’s private guard intent to defend it while the majority of the mercenary army engaged The Marshal’s army.
Owen’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at the elaborate carriage. He knew that was where Teodora must be. He didn’t see her anywhere else, and if she was a ward of the king as Dessa had told him, then the carriage was where she would be.
Swiftly, he sized up his target, estimating distance and difficulty of acquisition. From a distance, he could see a man astride a big chestnut warmblood lingering by the door of the cab. It took him a moment to realize the Lord Justice of Rockingham was astride his very own horse, the animal that he had, in fact, loaned to Lady Teodora. Owen felt a surge of concern as well as indignation. What had happened to the lady that this bold bastard would confiscate her mount?
His anxiety mounted.
The fighting was heavy now and there would be no better time to act. Determined, Owen was about to lift his fist in the air, the silent command to attack, when the Lord Justice suddenly yanked the door of the cab open and pulled a woman out by her hair. In an instant, Owen realized that it was Lady Teodora and he panicked, shouting the command to attack and listening with pleasure as his men descended to the road, screaming like banshees.
Owen himself charged into the melee with little thought for his own safety. He was determined to reach Lady Teodora as Barric dragged her, still clutching her child to her breast, onto the back of his horse. She was fighting as much as she was able, but it was difficult while still protecting her babe. His hand still wound in her thick blonde hair, he spurred his horse and made haste back in the direction of Rockingham.
“Damn!” Owen screamed.
He couldn’t seem to make much headway to pursue Barric. There were men all around him, fighting and dying, and he watched as the lady and the Lord Justice faded further and further away. Hysteria gripped him and he spurred his horse until its flanks bled but, still, he was barely able to wade through the crowd. He turned his horse around and laboriously managed to remove himself from the battle but, by that time, Teodora and Barric had disappeared from view. They were headed for the castle and Owen knew he had no choice but to pursue. From the manner in which the Lord Justice was handling her, he knew that her life and that of the child’s were in serious jeopardy.
But his would be, too. Rockingham was a vast place with many soldiers, and if he was caught, he knew it would mean his death. But he had to try. For Cullen’s sake, he simply couldn’t let her go. Digging his heels into his horse’s heaving sides, he was stopped by one of his men.
It was the old, seasoned soldier. He was sporting a gash in his forehead, but otherwise appeared to be enjoying the fight. “Where are you going, my lord?” he demanded. “The battle is the other way!”
Owen struggled to control his excited horse. “I am going after the lady,” he said. “Tell the men to retreat from the battle. Our target has fled back to Rockingham!”
The old soldier shook his head. “You cannot go after her, my lord. If they capture you…”
“I know,” Owen snapped. “But there is no other choice.”
The soldier had a grip on Owen’s reins and refused to let go. “The champion would not want you to get yourself killed. There must be another way!”
Owen tried to dislodge the man’s hands. “There is no other way,” he growled. “If our champion was here, he would agree with me.”
The old man opened his mouth to argue. But something at the edge of the trees caught his attention and he turned, his face suddenly lit with awe.
“God in Heaven,” he breathed. “It… it can’t be!”
Owen turned to behold the same vision. It was as if the sun had suddenly come from behind the clouds, a vision of light shining upon them so brightly that they were blinded by its grace and glory. Owen stared at it, all of his men stared at it, until Owen finally broke the silence. A slow, even smile spread across his face as he beheld something he thought he would never see again.
“Aye,” he murmured with satisfaction. “It most certainly can.”
Cullen had arrived.
Holly was screaming hysterically.
Teodora held the baby tightly so she wasn’t injured in the jostling but, still, the twists and turns were frightening. Teodora let Barric drag her onto the horse and race her back to Rockingham, all the while wrestling with her instinct to protect her child against the instinct to fight Barric to the death.
She knew she couldn’t do both.
Events had happened so quickly that she’d hardly had time to grasp all of them, but she knew for certain that her future was in peril. William Marshal and Preston had arrived. Teodora seriously had doubts that they’d come for her, for Preston had made it very clear how little use he had for her. But the king and Barric believed it. That being the case, then her life, as well as the lives of those in the vault, were in serious danger. She only knew that she had to think quickly, to lie, cheat or promise her way out of whatever predicament she was in. Barric might be willing to listen. He didn’t like her personally, but he wanted her sexually, and she decided to play into his hands if she had to.
