Archangel (23 page)

He stared at her, torn and in agony, as Kevin agreed with Emberley. “She is right, Gart,” he told him. “You must hide. Let the escort take her out of here and we will follow.  It will be a simple thing to steal them once they are upon the road.”

Gart sighed heavily, raggedly. “What about my men? They are on the walls.”

“I have already told them to scatter and regroup in the town,” he told them.  “They are clearing out and so should we.”

“And what about you?”

“I am a visitor passing through on my way to London. They will not know or care who I am, but they will care about you.”

“Go,” Emberley reached up to pull Lacy from his arms and the little girl screamed unhappily. “Please go, Gart. We will wait for you to come for us before we reach London. I have faith in you.”

Gart stared at her, truly concerned that he was going to burst into tears.  He’d never felt so much pain in his life.  There wasn’t time to argue.  He threw his arms around her, kissing both her and the unhappy baby.

“I love you,” he murmured. “I will see you all again, very soon.”

“Gart?” Romney was pulling on his leg. “Can I come with you? I can help you.”

Gart felt more pain at the boy’s brave offer.  He touched the lad on the head affectionately. “I know you can,” he said quietly. “But it is more important that you stay with your mother. She will need your protection.”

“She has Orin and Brendt. She does not need me, but you do. Who will help you?”

Gart sighed faintly, so deeply touched by the boy’s earnest question.  Before he could answer, Kevin spoke.

“I will help him, lad,” he gave Gart a tug, hissing at him. “We must leave.
Now.
”

Romney eyed Gart before looking to his mother, seeing her eyes full of tears and her lower lip trembling.  As young as he was, he wasn’t stupid. He could see that something was happening between his mother and the knight. He’d seen Gart steal kisses from her and since his father had left for London, he’d never seen his mother smile so much. She was happy and he didn’t have to buy her anymore gifts to please her. Gart made her happy and made her smile. But he also knew that his father must never know how happy Gart had made his mother or terrible things would happen. Gart had to leave.  He slipped his hand into his mother’s elbow.

“Come on, Mama,” he pulled at her.  “Gart must go before Father’s men come.”

Romney’s gentle encouragement was all Emberley needed to hear for her composure to leave her. She broke down into soft sobs as Gart kissed her again, murmuring of his love for her, before being pulled away by Kevin.  It was a painful parting.  Emberley’s last glimpse of Gart was as he and Kevin disappeared down the stairs to the kitchen, her heart breaking into a million pieces when he vanished from sight.  Next to her, Romney was pulling on his mother insistently.

“Come along, Mama,” he told her. “Sit down.”

Weeping pitifully, something Gart had said to her suddenly rang true in her head.
He wants so much to be a man.
She looked at Romney’s serious face and already, she could see Gart’s influence on the boy.  He’d grown up sometime during the past seven weeks and she hadn’t even noticed. Her tears ran fresh.

“You are a good boy, Rom,” she kissed his forehead. “You will be a fine man someday. I am very proud of you.”

Romney regarded his mother a moment. “Why did Father send his men from London?”

Emberley wiped at her eyes. “Because… because it would seem that he wants us to go to him in London.”

“I do not want to go.”

“We do not have a choice.”

Romney wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. He was proud that his mother recognized his strength but very concerned that Gart had fled and his father’s men were about the castle.  He liked Gart a great deal, feeling guilty because he liked him more than his father. He didn’t want anything to happy to him. Romney looked at Orin, who was standing with Brendt, wide-eyed as they watched the situation unfold.

“Get Mama some wine,” he told Orin. “Hurry up. And do not spill it.”

Orin nodded his blond head emphatically and rushed to the alcove of the hall where the wine and ale were usually stored.   Brendt came to sit next to his mother on the bench, gazing up at her with frightened blue eyes, and Emberley put an arm around her son’s shoulder and hugged him gently.

“Everything will be all right,” she promised softly. “But we must never mention Gart to Father or to his men, ever.  It is a serious secret we must keep or else your father will become very angry. Do you understand?”

Romney and Brendt nodded seriously as Orin returned with a full cup of wine, struggling not to spill a drop.   He carefully extended it to his mother, who smiled as she took it from him.  She wiped the remaining moisture from her eyes, trying not to think about Gart and his safety as she took a healthy swallow of the tart red wine. To dwell on Gart would only drive her mad. 

She could hear men outside, shouting in the bailey.  She knew that Julian had left behind a few men to man the walls and they would undoubtedly speak of Gart Forbes’ men.  It was something she couldn’t get around, but she wasn’t particularly concerned for herself at the moment. She could make up an excuse and say they were de Lohr’s men. Gart was out there, somewhere, trying to find a safe haven to hide from Buckland’s party.  The more she thought on it, the more fearful she became. She was compelled to do something to help him.

“Rom,” she set the wine down on the well scrubbed table surface. “Follow the path that Gart took down the stairs and into the kitchen.  Find him and help him find a place to hide.  We know this place better than he does, do we not? Make sure you keep him out of sight. I will distract your father’s men as much as I can, but you must help Gart.  If they find him, they will kill him. Do you understand?”

Romney nodded seriously. “Aye, Mama.”

Emberley touched his cheek sweetly. “Good lad,” she whispered. “Hurry, now. Find him and help him.”

Romney was off, sprinting to the stairs that led down to the kitchen as Emberley rose from the bench and set the baby to her feet.  She smoothed her surcoat, composing herself, preparing to do what she must to keep both her and Gart alive.  She knew all of Julian’s men on sight and was preparing what she would say to them.  They had come to take her to London and she would know why. 

She was quite concerned, in truth, because any reason she could come up with was not a good one.  With Brendt in one hand and Orin carrying Lacy, she made her way to the keep entry just in time to see one of Julian’s senior sergeants mount the stairs.

She couldn’t keep the dread from her heart as she watched the man approach.

Chapter Twelve

After hiding out in the buttery until Romney was able to safely smuggle Gart through the postern gate, Gart fled to the forest south of Dunster sometime in the late afternoon.  It was perfect cover in the heavily foliaged area. Shielded by the big oaks, he found a good vantage point from where he could watch the castle and spent the rest of the daylight watching the activity.

Everything at the fortress seemed normal. There were no groups of scouts running about and no real activity on the wall to speak of.  Satisfied that no alarm had been raised by either his presence or escape, he was fairly convinced that Julian’s party would depart sometime the next morning.  Leaving the shelter of the trees, Gart regrouped with his men in town just after sunset.  The town of Carhamption had several hostel establishments and they found a moderately large tavern and settled in. 

Morose and moody, Gart drowned himself in a cup after cup of ale while his men ate and played games of dice.  Gart sat in the corner, watching his men, thinking on Emberley and the children and growing increasingly despondent. He had been living such a fool’s dream for the past seven weeks, hidden away from the world. But reality had come fast and heavy, and he was still reeling. He wasn’t ready to face it yet.  He was so depressed he could hardly function.

The evening rolled on, people came and went from the smoky, smelly inn.  Whores in the guise of serving wenches came by his table, offering him more drink and an suggestion of nocturnal activities but Gart chased them away with his stony expression and disinterested manner. He couldn’t stop thinking of Emberley’s sweet body, of her smile, her gentle wit.  Watching his men retreat from the inn with whores in their arms only fueled his loneliness. He missed Emberley desperately. 

By midnight, he had imbibed copious amounts of alcohol and was fairly drunk but he didn’t particularly care.  He hoped it would make him pass out long enough to forget the torment in his heart.  As midnight came and went, the inhabitants of the inn grew drunker around him and a few fights ensued.  At one point, a pair of combatants came near his table and Gart lashed out an enormous boot, sending the pair flying.  Once they regained their balance, they turned on him but one look at the enormous, drunk knight and they decided a counter attack would not be wise.  They moved on to easier targets.

Finishing off his fourth large pitcher of ale, Gart finally sat with an empty cup, staring off into the room and wondering if he should try to get some sleep.  He hadn’t passed out yet and that disturbed him. Several of his men were still involved in a heated game of dice near the hearth and he listened to their cheers and jeers, bored and miserable.  As he was summoning the will to find the innkeeper and secure a room for the night, the front door to the inn flew open, slamming back on its hinges.

Gart looked over, disinterested, until he saw that it was Kevin.  Startled, he sat forward in his chair, his eyes wide on the man.  Kevin caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, turning to catch sight of Gart.  Before Gart could say a word, Kevin abruptly quit the inn and the door slammed shut behind him.  Greatly puzzled and deeply concerned, Gart rose on unsteady legs and began to make his way over to the door.  He hadn’t quite reached the panel when it flew open again.  Kevin was there, followed by Emberley and the children.

Shocked, Gart’s reaction was to throw his arms around Emberley, who was carrying the sleeping Lacy. Emberley returned his furious kisses, tasting the ale on his lips.

“Gart!” she gasped as he smothered her face with kisses. “Are you well?”

He was very drunk and very emotional.  An enormous hand went to her face, cupping it, while the other affectionately grasped Orin and Brendt.

“I am fine,” he kissed her again. “What are you doing here? How did you escape Buckland’s escort?”

Emberley could see how drunk he was.  She was exhausted, frightened and more than shocked to see Gart’s physical state.  She had been looking for a rock to cling to at the end of her harrowing flight from Dunster and was stunned to see that Gart was less than strong.  She passed a long glance at Kevin before replying.

“It was not difficult considering they are all asleep from their long ride from London,” she gestured at Kevin. “Sir Kevin came to me with a plan this afternoon and we plotted our escape.  We slipped from the postern gate an hour ago.  The trouble was in finding you – we have been to four inns tonight already. We did not know where you had gone but we knew you would not have gone far.”

He kissed her cheeks, her lips. “I could not go far away from you, not ever,” he breathed, then looked at Kevin. “I can never thank you enough for risking yourself for me. I am deeply indebted to you.”

Kevin’s eyes glimmered impishly. “Aye, you are, and someday you will repay me handsomely.”

Gart grinned at the man, both of them knowing that Gart would indeed pay his debt and then some.  The bond of a knight was strong that way.  Gart’s attention moved back to the Emberley when a strong, chill breeze gusted in through the open door.