Archangel (35 page)

“I do not want to leave my babies,” Emberley wept; she had lost the fight against fear and despair. “Please do not do this.
Please.
”

“Perhaps you should have thought of the consequences when you fled Dunster,” Donnell said quietly.

“I fled Dunster to save my life,” she spat even as he pulled her down the stairs. “If you take me to Julian, I will never see my children again. He will kill me!”

“I have my orders, Lady de Moyon.”

She suddenly came to life, kicking and swinging at him.  Donnell wasn’t able to pull the dirk away from her before she drove the sharp knife into the side of her neck and blood began to gush.  She gasped and stopped fighting, her hands flying to her neck as blood poured down her slender white flesh and onto the top of her shift.  Lord de Lara dropped his broadsword and gestured to his men.

“Bandages,” he hissed. “Hurry. Before she bleeds to death.”

Two of his men disappeared but the rest remained, following Donnell and his escort party as they hauled Emberley and Romney down the stairs.  Lord de Lara’s men returned with wads of linen bandages and Lord de Lara extended them to Donnell about the time he reached the bottom of the slippery stone steps.

“Please,” he said. “Let me give these to her. She is bleeding all over.”

Donnell could see that – her hands and the top of her surcoat were a bloody mess.  He nodded shortly and Lord de Lara rushed to Emberley’s side, pressing the linen on the wound.  She was pale, grasping the wad and holding it fast.

“Thank you,” she looked at him, her big blue eyes glimmering with tears. “Please… tell him….”

Lord de Lara shushed her softly. He didn’t want her saying too much because it was apparent that de Moyon’s men didn’t know Gart was involved in the lady’s disappearance.  Lord de Lara was happy to be the decoy and allow them to think it was his own son who had abducted Emberley. That way, Gart could have the element of surprise on his side. 

“Have no fear, sweetheart,” he shushed her again. “He will know everything. Be strong and cooperate.  All will be well.”

She was beginning to cry. “My babies….”

Lord de Lara had her bloodied hand and he kissed it. “They will be well cared for, spoiled as they have never been spoiled. We will take excellent care of them.”

She broke down. One of Donnell’s men shoved him away, creating a barrier of swords and men between the lady and Lord de Lara. Donnell pulled the bloodied lady away, surrounded by his men, until they reached their horses tied up just inside the gatehouse.

Some of the gate guards saw the hostage situation and tried to intervene, but Lord de Lara called them off, fearful that Donnell and his men would harm Emberley and Romney. They had already proven that they were bold and fearless, and de Lara wasn’t willing to take the chance that the lady or her son would be hurt in a scuffle. He didn’t think he could live with the guilt if something happened to them.

Heartsick, Lord de Lara was forced to watch as they mounted Emberley and Romney and tore off through the gatehouse and into the green, rolling hills beyond.  He had no idea how de Moyon found his wife and children but the fact remained that the man had somehow tracked them down through common sense or devilry. Either way, Emberley and Romney were headed to London. He felt like a failure and a fool, all rolled in to one. It had all happened so fast that he was still processing it.

Turning to his shocked men, he began bellowing orders to mobilize his army.   He would gather nine hundred men and follow de Moyon’s escort all the way in to London, perhaps looking for the opportunity to snatch Lady de Moyon and her son back. He simply couldn’t let them go without a fight. Gart had left them in his care. Gart had trusted him.

Lord de Lara’s next action was to send a missive to Bellham, telling him messenger to ride harder and faster than de Moyon’s escort and arrive before they did.  Emberley’s only hope was if de Lohr and Forbes were waiting for them on the road to prevent her from ever reaching Julian.  It was a weak plan but the only one he had.  He sent the fastest man he had.

Chapter Nineteen

  The armory at Bellham was a busy place at any given time considering the de Lohr war machine and the variety of battles it tended to support.  But this evening was different.

The mood was thick with anticipation, with deadly fury, as the knights of David de Lohr’s ranks prepared for battle.  Silver moonlight streamed in through the lancet windows that allowed a small amount of light and air into the armor, a thickly built room in the lower ground floor of Bellham. 

It was a basement, a hole of death, packed with weapons and fighting men. Even the baron was there, his squires strapping the plate armor on his legs and chest, armor of the latest style. As David adjusted the hauberk on his head, standing still as the boys finished with his leg protection, his eyes were focused on Gart.

Gart was near the door that led from the armory and headed up to the rear of the manse.  He kept his armor and weapons near the door, always, so he could get to them quickly.  Even now, he dressed alone, as was his custom, a man who was adept and faster than most efficient squires at donning his own armor and protection. He dressed silently, his custom mail coat hanging snug and heavy on his broad body, his iron-like expression even harder than usual. In the darkness of the armory, in the shadows of the smoking torches, Gart looked like the devil himself as he prepared for battle.

David knew how coiled the man was.  He hadn’t taken his eyes off him since they had received the messenger from Trelystan regarding Lady Emberley’s abduction. Although the messenger had been ahead of the escort bearing Lady Emberley and her son, he was sure they were no more than a day behind him, which meant they were probably six hours out of London at the moment. That was, of course, providing they had slowed their pace to accommodate the lady and the boy. There was no guarantee they had.  So David had ordered his knights to battle with Gart leading the way.  They were going to intercept that escort and retrieve the lady and her son.

Gart hadn’t said more than two words since receiving the news. It was as if he was afraid to speak, afraid to let himself go. The Forbes Wall was up, surrounding and protecting him, an invincible barrier that would keep Gart in and protected until the
sach
, the madness, was released.  David had no doubt they would see a greater madness tonight than they had ever seen before. He was a little leery, truth be told.  He wanted to keep a close eye on the man.

When his squires finished adjusting the straps on his leg protection, David gathered his broadsword and scabbard and made his way to Gart across the busy armory chamber.  Kevin was standing near Gart, dressing, his gaze locking with David’s as the man made his way across the room.  Kevin held David’s gaze for a moment before guiltily lowering his eyes and returning to securing his scabbard.  David’s eyes lingered on the man’s lowered head, knowing he felt responsible for this mess. Gart hadn’t blamed the man in the least, but still, Kevin felt a tremendous amount of guilt.

“Ready?” David asked Gart as he approached the man.

Gart nodded, finished with the strap on his sheath. “Aye, my lord.”

David’s gaze moved over the man; he was the heart of the de Lohr war machine, invincible, the perfect knight.  Standing before him in his mail and loaded down with weapons, he was indeed a fearsome sight. 

“It is my feeling that since the escort is returning from the Marches, they are more than likely taking the road that leads from Gloucester through Ealing,” he told Gart. “We will take Kew Road through Ealing and meet them upon the main road that leads into London.”

Gart nodded shortly, tucking one last dirk into his plate armor where he could get at it. David could feel the tension rising off the man like a steam.  He knew when Gart shifted into battle mode, for he was the perfect killing machine. No emotion, no mistakes. But he could also be singularly focused and David hastened to remind him of what he already knew. This was no ordinary skirmish they were preparing for.

“Gart,” he lowered his voice. “Remember that above all else, we must make sure to remove the lady and the boy without injury.  We must be careful and calculated.”

Gart looked sharply at him, the intense eyes flickering with confusion, then anger. “Do you think I would blindly attack the escort in a rage, my lord?”

David shook his head. “Nay,” he said firmly. “But I believe the best course of action for you would be to target the lady and her son. We will take care of the escort. You must get the lady and the boy free of the fighting.”

Gart’s gaze flickered again, this time, with resistance. “I will have my vengeance, my lord.”

David shook his head again. “Not on an escort party,” he said quietly. “They are simply doing as they are ordered. If there is any revenge to be sought, seek it against Buckland when all of this is over. And remember that what we do tonight could jeopardize Father St. John’s attempts to convince Buckland and Isabella that Buckland should divorce his wife. We must be very careful.”

After a moment, Gart seemed to relax somewhat, seeing David’s point of view. He sighed heavily.

“We cannot leave any witnesses, you  know this,” he muttered. “If we leave anyone alive, they will run back to Buckland and tell him that de Lohr forces attacked them and took the lady. Then Buckland will be back on you like flies to honey.”

“We wear no colors. They will not know it is my men.”

Gart lifted an eyebrow. “You are in the middle of it, my lord. Unless you want to remain at Bellham and let me lead the raid, I am afraid you have very distinctive armor and a very distinctive sword. The de Lohr hilt is well known.”

David scratched his cheek reluctantly, knowing Gart was correct but not entirely sure about the murder raid.  His thought was to simply retrieve the lady from the escort party with the least amount of bloodshed possible. But Gart had a point. As David rethought his strategy, a fully armed soldier suddenly appeared in the armory entry. The man went straight to David.

“My lord,” he said briskly. “The Earl is sighted.”

David’s eyebrows lifted. “My brother? How close is he?”

“They are upon us, my lord.”

David passed Gart a long look before bolting from the armory.  Gart grabbed his helm and went in pursuit, as did de Lara and the other knights that were donning their gear.  Soon the armory was emptied of fighting men, leaving the squires to pick up the remainder of the armor and weapons that had been left behind, but the boys soon began bolting from the chamber as well.

The entire group of knights, squires and soldiers raced to the front of the manse where horses and grooms await, and great torches burned deep into the black of the night.  As David came around the front of the building, he could see an army approaching from the great drive that led to the front gates.  He could hear the horses making noise and the armor and men grinding and grating after a long ride from Hereford.  He hadn’t seen his brother in months and it would see the man had arrived on a most opportune night.

The Earl of Hereford had come.

***

“The longer we delay, the more chance there is of Lady de Moyon’s escort slipping past us and on into London,” David explained patiently. “I have explained the seriousness of the situation to you. I am not sure why you want to discuss it further.”

Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and Worcester, was weary after his five day ride from his seat, Lioncross Abbey, near the Welsh borders.  He was two years older than his brother, an enormous man that was taller than his brother by several inches, with a full head of blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard.  He had the same sky-blue eyes as David and a square-jawed, excruciatingly handsome appearance. But it was his reputation as a fighting man that all men knew and feared, his brother and Gart no exceptions. They both had a healthy respect for the man and his abilities. He was a hell of a warrior.