Archangel (24 page)

“Bring the children inside by the fire, kitten,” he told her. “It is too cold here by the door.”

He started herding the sleepy children over to the hearth but Kevin stopped him. “We need to get clear of Dunster,” he told him. “Buckland’s men are asleep and that will buy us time until morning. We must leave immediately.”

Gart was struggling with his inebriation.  He wasn’t thinking particularly clearly. “But the children need to sleep. Surely they are allowed a few hours of rest before we whisk them off to the Marches.”

Kevin could see that Gart was fairly far gone with alcohol. “They can sleep on the road,” he told him. “I brought your charger and mine but little else.  We must ride for the Marches tonight.”

“How did you remove my charger from the stables? He bites anything that moves.”

Kevin kept looking around the room nervously. He was still in escape mode and feeling frustrated that Gart didn’t feel his sense of urgency.

“It was not easy but I managed it,” he told him.  “I loaded all of your possessions, at least what we could find in your chamber.  But there is no more time to delay, Gart.  We must leave this moment. Do you understand me?”

Gart rubbed at his eyes, struggling to focus.  When he opened his red-rimmed orbs, he could see the expression on Emberley’s face. There was fear and disillusionment there. He’d never seen that expression before and knew he didn’t like it.  He suddenly felt very self-conscious and weak, and it was enough to shock him into a semblance of sobriety.  He didn’t like the look of disappointment in her eyes.  He never wanted to see it again.

“I do,” he nodded his head, rubbing his eyes again and focusing on Emberley. “Forgive me. You have found me doing the cowardly thing by drowning my sorrows in ale. I was so distressed after leaving this afternoon that… well, suffice it to say that I was attempting to ease my pain. Forgive me, kitten. I did not mean to disappoint you.”

Emberley softened, sighing faintly as she put a hand to his cheek, which he kissed fervently. “You did not,” she said. “But I am rather surprised to see you so drunk.”

Gart lifted a lazy eyebrow in agreement. “Had I known you and de Lara would plan an escape, I would not have consumed every bit of ale in this place. I think I drank enough to fill a pond.”

At his feet, Romney giggled. He looked at the boy, his eyes half-lidded, weaving dangerously. “Do you find that humorous, little man?”

Romney nodded firmly. “Can I get drunk, too?”

Gart made a face at him. “You may not,” he rumbled, returning his attention to Emberley. “Already, I can feel my head pounding and it is not even the morrow.  Let us ride before it grows any worse and my head falls off completely.”

In spite of everything, Kevin had to grin at the man. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“We have no choice.”

“True, but it would not do for you to fall off and crack your skull.”

Gart snorted. “I swear that I will not fall off,” he picked up Brendt when the child leaned against his leg, whining and rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Let us leave this place and never look back.”

With that, he turned to a few of his men standing on the outskirts of the room and ordered them to gather the rest and meet at the southeast edge of town.  As his men began to collect, he and Kevin took Emberley and the children out into the night.

It was cold and damp outside, a soft sea breeze wafting in the air. With Brendt now sleeping on his big shoulder, Gart listened to Kevin as the man ran through the list of what he was able to slip from Dunster – Gart’s saddle bags, weapon, and most of his armor.  Emberley had packed two large bags with items for her and the children, everything she could squeeze into the two satchels.  Kevin also had a saddle bag that contained food stuffs and other assorted items, as did Gart, but they realized that they were going to have to purchase a wagon or other means of transportation by the time they reached a safe distance.  Right now, they were fleeing with what they could carry. It had to be swift and light.

Kevin mounted his blonde charger and Gart handed him Romney and Orin – Orin sat to the front and Romney sat to the back.  The boys both thought it was great fun riding on a charger and Gart even heard Romney try to coerce a dirk off of the knight just in case they needed to fight their way out of the village. It was just a ruse because Orin started rifling through one of the bags thrown across the front of the saddle.

Drunk or not, Gart saw what they were up to and snapped is fingers at the boys. They immediately ceased all covert activities at the sharp noise, eyes wide with feigned innocence.  As Gart cast a lingering glare at Romney, Kevin puffed out his cheeks.

“They tried to rob me this afternoon when I entered the keep to speak with their mother,” he said casually.

Gart sighed heavily. “Did they succeed?”

Romney interrupted, afraid that Gart would become angry with him. “We gave it back,” he insisted. “Mother made us.”

Gart pointed a finger at him. “I told you no more robbing,” he said sternly. “You and I will have words about this later.”

“Gart?” Orin called.

Gart looked at him. “What is it, Orin?”

“We will not do it again, I promisth.”

Kevin fought off a smirk as both boys appeared contrite, fearful and defiant at the same time. Orin even gave Gart an innocent smile with his missing two front teeth but Gart didn’t believe him for a minute. Casting the boys a final intimidating glance, he took Lacy from Emberley, who mounted Gart’s black and white charger on her own since Gart had two sleeping toddlers on his shoulders.  She took Lacy once she settled herself in the saddle and Gart handed Brendt up to her as well.  Then he mounted, settling in behind her and wrapping a big arm around her as she held the sleeping babies. 

Gart was feeling the sense of urgency now, struggling to shake off the alcohol. He had what he wanted and he would get them all clear of Dunster or die trying. He managed to pull an oilcloth from his saddlebags, one he usually used when it rained, and covered up Emberley and the sleeping children.  Only Emberley’s head remained above the cloth.  Properly covered and secure, Kevin and Gart spurred their chargers towards the southeast end of town where they would meet up with the rest of Gart’s men.

The die was now cast and there was no turning back.  The moment Gart mounted Emberley and the children, he had chosen his path in life and it would not be an easy one.  Whatever was to come, he was prepared to face it.  He would like, kill, cheat or steal if it meant keeping Emberley and the children safe.  All that mattered was they were together, come what may.  He wondered if Erik would have seen it the same way.

Swords at the ready and the men on high alert, they embarked into the dark and misty night, heading for the dangerous Welsh Marches.

Chapter Thirteen

London

  Bellham House was a stone and mortar fortified manse approximately two miles from the heart of London situated along the River Thames.  It had been in the de Lohr family for almost a century as a place of residence when the de Lohrs visited London.   Surrounded by a well-designed garden that included every thorny bush or vine in existence, the prickly foliage was more of a deterrent to invasion or thieves that the enormous walls themselves.  Huge strains of bougainvillea, blooming in brilliant colors of pink and purple, grew all over the house.  The thorns on the plants were more than an inch long, sharp like a dagger. All of the de Lohr offspring had met with a run-in on those plants at one time or another. They all had war wounds from having done battle with Bellham’s plants.

In spite of the prickly exterior, the interior was lush and comfortable. David had been in a sunny upstairs study, reading a missive from his brother, when he heard the sounds of a charger in the yard.   Rising from the desk, he peered outside into the courtyard to see Kevin de Lara on the approach. The missive ended up tossed back onto the desk as David made haste from the study. He was descending the stairs when a sweet female voice stopped him.

“David?” she called. “Sweetheart, where are you going?”

David paused on the bottom step as his wife, the Lady Emilie Hampton de Lohr, emerged from one of the upstairs bedrooms where she had been attempting to lull their two year old daughter, Christina, to sleep. Blond and beautiful, with big brown eyes, Emilie smiled at her husband.  David returned the gesture.

“I am stepping outside, love,” he told her. “Not to worry. I am not going anywhere.”

“I heard a horse,” Emilie was coming towards the stairs. “Who has arrived?”

David could see Kevin dismounting his steed through the window. “De Lara,” he told her. “I shall be outside if you need me.”

Emilie descended the stairs, coming upon her husband and winding her soft hand into his.  David kissed her on the cheek.

“May I come with you?” she asked softly.  “It is such a lovely day outside.”

David sighed faintly; Emilie was the sweetest, most genuinely kind person he had ever met.  She had such a soft manner about her, gentle and compassionate, without an ounce of disobedience or rancor in her personality. She was the most perfect person he knew and, consequently, he could never deny her anything, not even the slightest little question.  He was a weakling and he knew it, but he didn’t much care. He adored her.

“Very well,” he kissed her hand, pulling her off the stairs with him. “I am anxious to hear what de Lara has to say.”

Emilie followed him to the enormous front door. “Why?”

David shrugged. “To see if he was able to locate Gart, first and foremost.  My men are due to sail for France in ten days and I want Gart at the head of the command.”

Emilie shaded her eyes from the sun when David opened the door. “Gart would never disappoint you,” she said. “He is your best knight. You have said so yourself.”

David had no reason to dispute her statement, nor did he have any reason to be on his guard as de Lara approached him. He was looking forward to positive news in spite of the fact that he had sent Kevin to find Gart specifically to warn him off of Buckland’s return to Dunster. He assumed all had happened as it should because his knights had never failed him. Kevin saluted David sharply.

“My lord,” he greeted, looking to Emilie and smiling at her. “Lady de Lohr, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

David looked the man over; he looked particularly exhausted, having been gone from London almost a month. He appeared as if he had been riding every day of his travels. It was a disheveled state that forged the first blooms of concern in David’s chest.

“You look weary and haggard, de Lara,” he commented. “Were you able to find Forbes?”

Kevin took a deep breath, nodding. “He was at Dunster Castle as you had suspected, my lord.”

The knight began to look uncomfortable, glancing at Emilie as if afraid to say anything more in her presence.  David didn’t like the hesitation at all and his concern mounted.

“And?” he pushed de Lara. “What happened? Did you warn him off of Buckland’s escort?”

Kevin took another deep breath, reasoning that he might as well tell his liege all of it.  There was no point in holding back, for it would only enrage de Lohr.  It wasn’t as if he had a choice in the face of a direct question.

“I arrived less than an hour before Buckland’s escort for Lady Embereley,” he told him. “Gart was there, as you had suspected, and I relayed your messages. But… well, there is a problem, my lord.”