The Agents of William Marshal Volume I: A Medieval Romance Bundle, page 51
Achilles shook his head as the serving wench approached the table to take the food order from Bric and Alexander. “Nay,” he said to Alexander as Bric spoke to the wench about the menu. “The food is rich and it is expensive, as is the ale. It is all stuff of quality and we will pay handsomely for it. I suspect other travelers have sought out less expensive accommodations this night.”
It seemed as good an explanation as any. When the food quickly came, Bric and Alexander dug in with gusto.
“Where is Kress?” Alexander asked, his mouth full.
Achilles didn’t answer right away. “You are not going to like the answer.”
Alexander looked at him, curious. “Why not?”
Achilles pointed up the stairs. “Because he is with Lady Cadelyn.”
Alexander swallowed the bite in his mouth, looking at Achilles with more of a suspicious expression. “In her chamber?”
“Aye.”
“How long has he been there?”
“For at least a half-hour. He took food up to her.”
Alexander eyed him a moment before returning to his food. “He was ordered to be her shadow,” he said, shoveling in the pork pie. “We cannot become suspicious when he does what he has been told to do.”
Achilles rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean,” he said. “He has been attracted to her since he first laid eyes upon her. You know this is not an ideal situation, Sherry. The man is only human, after all.”
Alexander didn’t say anything for a moment. He continued eating, chasing down his big bites with warmed wine. “He may be attracted to her but I have not seen him behave in a way that has led me to believe he is acting upon that attraction,” he said. “But we will be vigilant. If he starts behaving… well, if he gives us concern, then we will act accordingly. But we will be at The Paladin by the day after tomorrow and the lady will meet her betrothed. I believe the sooner this mission is over, the better for us all.”
Achilles could only nod, returning to his drink and his own thoughts on the matter. Next to Alexander, Bric spoke.
“I asked him if he wanted me to trade places with him and become the lady’s shadow,” he said. “He assured me that there was no need. Until I see otherwise, or he tells me otherwise, I will believe that he is doing his duty in all things.”
Bric sounded as if he were defending Kress, which he was, so Alexander and Achilles didn’t say anything more about it. They didn’t want to sound as if they lacked faith in Kress, who had always been the most noble and moral of knights. But the truth was that they were concerned for him, fearful of what path he may choose with a woman he was attracted to.
Even the strongest of men had been known to fall.
As Achilles pondered the situation with Kress, Jude came down the stairs still holding the mug of steaming drink. Achilles watched as the woman crossed the dirt floor of the common room, past his table, and headed straight for Susanna, tucked over in the corner. She gave Susanna the drink that was meant for Lady Cadelyn, meaning either Cadelyn refused it or didn’t answer her door for some reason. Kress would have answered the door, and should have, but evidently he did not.
Something told Achilles there was a reason.
His concern got the better of him and he stood up, pacing away from the table and heading to the hearth where the wounded were starting to sleep. Even the priest that Lady Cadelyn had brought with her was there, rolled up in a ball near the hearth and sleeping with the heat on his back.
Achilles said a few words to the men who were lying there, making sure everyone was comfortable, before passing a glance at the stairs that led to the upper floor. He was hoping to see Kress coming down the stairs but the more he stared at the steps, the more vacant they became. He was wondering if he should go up there and knock on the door.
“He is not coming down, you know.”
The voice came from the corner and Achilles looked over to see that Susanna was looking at him. She was holding the warm mug between her two hands, inhaling the steam. Achilles eyed her.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Susanna sipped her drink. “Sir Kress,” she said. “He is in Cadie’s chamber. He is not coming down. I would wager that he’ll be up there all night.”
Achilles couldn’t very well deny that was what he’d been thinking, too. Scratching his head, he meandered in her direction.
“His orders are to shadow the lady,” he said. “He is doing his duty.”
Susanna lifted an eyebrow at him. “I am not a fool, Knight,” she said. “I have eyes. I can see that there is more than duty on his mind. I have seen it from the beginning.”
Had it not been true, Achilles would have become very angry at her for it. Instead, he put his hands on his hips and hovered near her table, not sitting down but not leaving, either.
“I have not seen your lady exactly discourage him,” he pointed out. “Whatever he is thinking, she is equally as guilty.”
Susanna sighed, shaking her head. “She is young and impulsive,” she said, coughing. “Young and impulsive and an idealist. I have known her for years and she has always been like this. But when she saw your friend in Lynn… something changed. Even I could see it.”
Achilles looked at her, then. “What did you see?”
Susanna lifted her slender shoulders. “Sparks,” she said simply. She sipped at her drink before continuing. “I suppose we all hope to meet that one person who makes us spark. She has met hers in Sir Kress.”
Achilles stood there a moment, chewing on his lip, before kicking out the other chair at her table and plopping his big body down. He pretended not to look at her, but he was; her copper curls were matted and dirty, as was the rest of her, but her cheeks were rosy. She had pretty eyes, too – quite blue from what he could see, with a fringe of dark lashes. The more she sat there and sipped at her drink, the more he found himself studying her.
“It will not do either of them any good, sparks or no,” he finally said. “She is to marry Ellesmere.”
“I know.”
“We shall be there in two days if this godforsaken weather eases.”
“I know.”
“Do you know everything?”
She looked at him, then, a smile playing on her lips. “Mostly.”
Achilles sat back in his chair, his focus full on her now. “Somehow, I do not doubt that,” he said. “You said that Baron Coverdale is your father?”
Susanna set her cup down. “Used to be,” she said. “That title now belongs to my brother.”
“I do not believe I know your brother.”
She lifted her shoulders again, only this time, there was some embarrassment to the gesture. “I am not surprised,” she said. “My brother tries to stay in the shadows for the most part. That is where he operates best.”
“What do you mean?”
“He would rather be loyal to himself in all things than to anyone else, like William Marshal.”
“Or the king?”
Again, she sighed and looked away. “Sometimes I wonder.”
Achilles thought on that. “What is his name?”
“Samuel.”
Achilles shook his head thoughtfully. “Samuel de Tiegh? I do not know him.”
She picked up her cup again. “William Marshal does,” she said. “He has me return home on occasion to see what my brother is doing. He wants to make sure he is not doing something he should not be doing. Or allied with someone he should not be allied with.”
That statement made her brother sound questionable of character. “It is interesting that you have sworn fealty to The Marshal, but not your brother,” he said. “That is something I’ve not seen before, not in all my years as a knight.”
“Seen a lady warrior?”
He shook his head. “I have seen many a lady warrior,” he said. “But I have never seen a lady serve in the capacity that you are serving in. A bodyguard, a spy…”
“Clearly, that disturbs you.”
“It does not disturb me. But I would not go into battle with you.”
“Nor I, you.”
He blinked, instant outrage on his face as she insulted him. “Lady, I have been in more battles than you could possibly hope to attend,” he said. “I have killed men with my bare hands and I have created more widows than you could possibly imagine. The hardships I have had to endure are beyond your comprehension, so if I were you, I would take that into consideration before you sling insults at me. Truly, I am of an order you could never possibly attain so I would watch those insults if I were you. They are too bold.”
Susanna looked at him, steadily. Instead of rising to his anger, as she’d done in the past, she simply shrugged. “I heard that you attended King Richard when he went on the Great Quest,” she said. “That makes you a killer more than most.”
“Now you are coming to understand. I was not called an Executioner Knight for nothing.”
She lifted her eyebrows as if impressed. “Then mayhap someday, you will tell me of your exploits,” she said. “I can stand it if you can.”
He was about to become angry again but he couldn’t seem to muster it. She annoyed him like crazy, but there was something sedate and intelligent about her, something that was both off-putting and alluring. He couldn’t quite figure it out but, to his chagrin, he realized he was finding her rather interesting. Sighing sharply, he leaned forward and put his elbows on her table.
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “Why is it that a woman like you pursued a warrior’s life? You are clearly intelligent. You are clearly attractive beneath all of that dirt. A woman like you could command a fine husband. Given those things, why would you choose a warrior’s life?”
Susanna lost some of her composure. Suddenly, she seemed a bit nervous as she sat back in her chair. A hand flew to her matted, dirty hair and she smoothed at it as if self-conscious. She coughed, even self-conscious of that now. Achilles’ flattery had caught her completely off-guard.
“Whatever my brother did, I wanted to do,” she said. “I am tall for a woman, and strong. Men do not like tall and strong women, so it seemed logical…”
Achilles cut her off. “How do you know?”
“Know what?”
“That men do not like tall and strong women. Have you never had a lover, Sparks?”
Susanna’s cheeks turned bright red as he jested with her about what she said about Cadelyn and Kress – I suppose we all hope to meet someone who makes us spark. But it wasn’t simply the jest – it was the question itself.
The answer was embarrassing.
“Where am I to find a lover when I am following around a foolish young woman?” she countered, struggling to regain her composure. “My focus is on her, not on finding someone who will salivate all over me.”
Achilles could see that he had her off-balance. He rather liked it. “Then you are telling me you have never even been kissed?”
Susanna thought her face was going to go up in flames; she was flushing so hard that even her neck was hot. “That is none of your affair,” she said. “Stop asking me silly questions.”
Achilles was grinning openly at her by now. “I would not worry if I were you,” he said. “You are pretty enough to be kissed. But do not punch the man who tries. You just might like it.”
She simply rolled her eyes and looked away, collecting her drink and sipping at it. Achilles kept his focus on her, waiting to see her reaction, but she wouldn’t give him one. He chuckled at her. She was a stubborn one.
“Not to worry, Sparks,” he said as he rose from his chair. “I am sure some fool will try to kiss you at some point. You shall not remain unkissed forever.”
“Are you leaving now?” she said drolly. “Finally, I shall have some peace.”
Achilles felt far less annoyed with her now that he knew how to tame her; any mention of kissing, or flattery, and the woman lost her composure. He would have to remember that for the future.
“Do not get too comfortable,” he said. “I may yet come back.”
“Do not bother. I am going to bed.”
Achilles waited until she turned to look at him before he winked at her. As he’d anticipated, her red cheeks were in no danger of returning to their normal color any time soon. He thought it was rather funny.
And rather sweet.
Turning his back on her, he headed back over to Bric and Alexander as they waited for Kress to emerge from Lady Cadelyn’s chamber.
What Achilles didn’t see was the smile on Susanna’s face when she knew he couldn’t see her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lioncross Abbey Castle
Herefordshire
It had taken him three and a half days.
Antoninus almost wept when he finally saw the massive walls of Lioncross Abbey Castle come in to view. A massive and legendary place, Lioncross Abbey Castle was so named because it was built on the site of an ancient Roman house of worship and incorporated portions of two walls and part of the foundation into the modern building. The fortress sat atop a ridge overlooking a large lake and the deep purple mountains that marked the Welsh border could be seen in the distance. Thick banks of trees surrounded the moat of the fortress and made the region appear lush and fertile, even in the dead of winter.
In fact, it was all rather bucolic, a place of serenity. How could there be anything wrong in the entire world when there were places as beautiful as this? It looked like a place Antoninus would have liked to have stayed, a peaceful life on the borders, far from the hell of The Paladin and the rebels who wanted to burn the north of Wales with their rage.
It was a world of difference.
Arriving at the enormous gatehouse of Lioncross, with its lion shield in stone at the crest of the archway, he told the gate sentries who he was and where he was from, and begged for an audience with the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. The gate guards, recognizing the name of the Earl of Ellesmere and the de Shera crest, admitted him into the vast bailey.
There, Antoninus was taken over to a yew tree, right in the middle of the bailey, where there was a bench built around it. While a groom took his weary horse to water and bed the animal, Antoninus sat down on the bench and resisted the urge to lay down and sleep.
The ride from the north had been long and exhausting, and the entire time he’d been very worried about Tatius. So much could happen while he was away, and Tatius was as weak as a kitten in a den of lions. As Antoninus sat there and worried, weariness claimed him and he ended up laying on the bench. Gazing up into the branches of the tree, with the sun filtering through, he lingered on thoughts of home.
“Are you from Ellesmere?”
A male voice awoke him. Antoninus’ eyes flew open and he sat up, looking straight at a big knight with dark hair and hazel eyes that had a hint of gold to them.
“I am, my lord,” he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I am Antoninus de Shera, youngest brother of the earl, Tatius. My apologies… I did not mean to fall asleep.”
The knight had a smile playing on his lips as he looked him over. “I know your brother,” he said. “But I have never met you. How old are you?”
“I have seen sixteen years, my lord.”
The knight’s eyebrows lifted. “You look older,” he said. “I am Edward de Wolfe. Hereford is occupied right now and has sent me to see if I can be of assistance to you.”
Antoninus cocked his head. “De Wolfe?” he repeated. “Wolverhampton?”
Edward nodded. “My father is the Earl of Wolverhampton,” he said, “which makes us allies with de Shera. It was my ancestor who gave your ancestor The Paladin.”
Antoninus nodded. “I know, my lord,” he said. Then, hesitantly: “Should I thank you, my lord?”
Edward laughed softly. “Nay, lad, that is not necessary,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to Antoninus. “But you can tell me how we may be of service. Why have you come?”
Antoninus was reluctant to speak at first. He’d come to speak with de Lohr, but Edward de Wolfe was just as good, to be frank. The man’s father was the Earl of Wolverhampton, which was quite close to The Paladin, but the Earl of Hereford and Worcester was far more of a Marcher Lord. The man controlled nearly a third of the Marches, miles and miles of the southern section.
When it came to Wales, he would understand the situation more than anyone.
“Are you friends with Hereford, my lord?” he asked.
Edward nodded. “I have served him for many years,” he said. “I went to The Levant with him. In fact, it is funny you should ask that because my family and I are preparing to go north to live with my father now that he is aging poorly. These will be my last days with Hereford, as I will soon be assuming my place as the next earl. But you did not come to Lioncross to hear that; tell me why you have come, young de Shera. What is so important that you have ridden all the way here?”
Antoninus took a deep breath. He’d been planning this moment in his mind for days but now that it was upon him, it was difficult to know where to start.
“My brother, Tatius, has sent me,” he said, grasping for words. “To understand why I have come, I must give you some background. Several months ago, Tatius was approached by a Welshwoman named Nesta ferch Madog. She is a descendent of the last king of Pengwern.”
“Pengwern?” Edward repeated, curiously. “That is near Wolverhampton. It is an ancient Welsh kingdom.”
“Indeed, it is,” Antoninus said. “Many years ago, Nesta was married to Owain Dant y Draig, who a descendant of the last King of Rhos. Nesta and Owain’s fathers brokered a marriage between the two and a child was born of the union, a daughter. After the child was born, it was Owain who took her from her mother and gave her over to William Marshal to protect. This was many years ago, my lord.”
Edward put up his hand to stop him. “What does this all have to do with your brother?”
Antoninus held up his own hand, begging patience. “I am coming to that, my lord, but I must give you the entire story,” he said. “Recently, Nesta approached Tatius with a marriage proposal. She wanted my brother to solicit a betrothal from William Marshal between him and her daughter, who is now of age.”
