Dragonblade Trilogy - 03 - The Savage Curtain (45 page)

After several long and frustrated
moments, he suddenly began to laugh. He didn’t know why, but he found the
entire circumstance humorous.  He figured, at that point, he must be losing his
mind. Only an idiot would laugh at what the boys had done.  But insanity didn’t
reduce the fear he felt for Cade and Roman.

***

“That’s what the man said,”
Kynan’s voice was grim above the sounds of Joselyn’s weeping. “At least he
allowed me tae remove Jo-Jo. Ye can be grateful for that small mercy.”

Tate stared at Kynan, not
particularly surprised at the message the man bore, before turning away to
collect himself. He was, frankly, sickened at the news, something he’d feared
but had not allowed himself to fully entertain. Kenneth, however, was not done
with the interrogation.

“De Velt said that Moray ordered
Stephen drawn and quartered?” he repeated, his voice deep and threatening.
“That does not make any sense. Stephen is a minor knight; ‘tis not as if he is
an earl or viscount and holds any particular significance. He is simply a
knight given a duty by the king.  It does not make any sense that Moray would
want to make an example out of him.”

Kynan was wary of the bulldog of
a knight with the blond hair and ice-colored eyes.  Kenneth had managed to
thrash him about fairly well when he was in the vault and the questions Kenneth
asked were not properly answered.

“Be that as it may, those were
Moray’s orders,” Kynan kept a distance from him. “At dusk on the day after tomorrow,
Stephen is tae be executed and his body scattered throughout the border as a
message to all those who oppose David’s rule. More than that, it’s meant tae
scare the English.  After what happened tae Tommy and Willie Seton, Moray has
prepared shock tactics of his own.”

“But Stephen had nothing to do
with my brothers’ deaths,” Joselyn was sobbing. “He said that he was Tommy’s
guardian until the end. Knowing my husband as I do, I know that he must have
been greatly saddened by Tommy’s death. He is a man of deep compassion. He does
not deserve what Moray plans for him.”

She was growing increasingly
hysterical and Tate wriggled his eyebrows at Kenneth, who took the hint. He
went to her, putting a big arm around her shoulder to comfort her.  But she
didn’t want to be comforted and when she tried to pull away, he grasped her
firmly and forced her to look at him.

“Jo-Jo,” he said, his voice
softening. “Nothing has happened to Stephen yet and as long as I have breath in
my body, I swear that nothing will happen to him. I understand that you are
upset; we are all upset. But we are also seasoned warriors and if anyone can
get Stephen out of this, Tate and I can. Do you understand me?”

Eyes watering and nose red,
Joselyn nodded once. “A-Aye.”

Kenneth smiled faintly. “Good
girl,” he murmured. “Do you believe me?”

Again, she nodded, struggling to
calm. “I do,” she hiccupped. “But… but he was so badly beaten. There is no
knowing what they have done to him since I have left. What if…?”

Kenneth shook her gently. “Listen
to me,” he interrupted. “I learned long ago that it is a waste of time and
energy to worry over things you cannot control.  As long as Stephen has an
execution order, they are more than likely leaving him alone at this time. They
would not want him to die before his appointed time and risk upsetting Moray. 
Therefore, there is no reason for you to be upset right now. In fact, it would
be better for Tate and me if you were calm.  We are trying to think of a way to
free Stephen and cannot think clearly if we are constantly concerned over your
mental health.”

By this time, Joselyn’s tears
were gone completely.  She swallowed hard, nodding to his words. “I am sorry,”
she whispered. “I will try to be calm, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he squeezed
her arms gently. “Your bravery helps us face what we must.”

She wiped at her nose daintily.
“Thank you, Kenneth. Stephen is fortunate to have such a good friend.”

Kenneth’s smile returned and he
patted her gently on the cheek, understanding why Stephen loved this woman so.
She was very sweet and definitely beautiful.  

“You are welcome,” he said
softly, giving her a wink before turning to Tate and, when he was sure Joselyn
couldn’t see him, rolling his eyes with relief.

Tate caught the expression from
the normally expressionless man and suppressed the urge to grin.   He watched
Joselyn a moment as she struggled to compose herself; he was, in truth,
wondering how in the world they were going to get Stephen out of Berwick in
spite of Kenneth’s words of confidence.  John Randolph, the third Earl of
Moray, was an extremely powerful man in Scotland.  If the orders for Stephen
came down from Moray, then there was little chance that someone superseding
Moray could counter the command other than the king himself.  Unless….

He turned away from Joselyn, his
mind whirling with thought. He didn’t want her to see his expression, the gleam
of an idea in his eye. He caught Kenneth’s attention and motioned the man to
him.

“Send a messenger escort to Alnwick
bearing my colors,” he snapped softly.

“Alnwick?” Kenneth repeated,
confused. “Why would…?”

“Because Alexander Seton is being
held prisoner there,” he whispered. “I will send a missive to Henry Percy
ordering him to release Seton and send him back to me at Berwick.  Send another
man back to Forestburn and summon my army.  Have them arrive by tomorrow noon
and we will begin the bombardment of Berwick.   Perhaps if we distract the
Scots enough, their attention will be diverted from Stephen’s execution and
we’ll buy the man some time until Seton arrives.”

Kenneth was following him but it
was clear by his expression that he was not in total agreement. “Bombardment?”
he repeated, incredulous. “I thought we agreed that this was not a job for an
entire army.”

Tate fixed him in the eye. “It
was not until Joselyn failed. I do not see where we have any choice now. 
Besides, you have already sent word to Edward, have you not? If I know the man,
and I do, he shall bring his whole damn army, highly angered that Berwick is
back in the hands of the Scots again. He is going to want the city back.”

Kenneth suspected he had a point.
“True enough.  He should already be on his way.” He crossed his big arms
thoughtfully. “But what do you think Seton will be able to do. He is Berwick’s
defeated commander. They will not listen to him over Moray.”

Tate held up a finger. “Perhaps
not, but I am willing to wager on the fact that Seton will have the sympathy of
every man at Berwick for what happened to his sons,” he said. “That could sway
the situation in Stephen’s favor if Seton makes a plea on his behalf.”

“What
makes you think he will?”
Tate’s gaze moved to Joselyn, who was standing with Kynan, listening as the man
spoke quietly to her. Kenneth looked at her as well, understanding the
implication, before puffing out his cheeks in a hissing sigh.

“Stephen told me what her father
did to her,” he lowered his voice. “I can guarantee that he does not want
Joselyn’s father near her. We will have to be very careful on the amount of
contact we allow between them.”

Tate looked at him. “Stephen can
thrash me for the rest of his life for my decision if, in fact, he survives the
morrow,” he snapped softly. “We have made two decisions that Stephen will not
agree with so I fully expect the man to ream me the moment he is released.”

Kenneth crossed his enormous
arms, looking thoughtful. “I intend to run far, far away and hide.”

“I may not be far behind you.”

“Let us hope we are provided with
that chance.”

Tate nodded faintly and turned
away. Kenneth watched the man pace, his thoughts moving to Stephen and
wondering what he would do if, in fact, they were unable to prevent tomorrow’s
execution.  Then his gaze moved to Joselyn, pregnant with Stephen’s son.  It
all seemed so horribly unfair, just when the man had found some happiness. 

But Kenneth was not willing to
give up, not yet.  He ordered four men south to Alnwick, about a day’s ride
under normal circumstances, with instructions that they were not to stop until
they reached Alnwick.  Once Seton was retrieved, they were to make all due
haste returning. He sent a second set of riders to Forestburn to collect Tate’s
army with essentially the same instructions; ride straight through, return with
all due haste. 

With Kenneth barking orders and
men on the move, Tate collected what remained of the escort he had brought from
Forestburn and moved them well down river, concealing them in trees and brush.
He gave Kynan some money with the instructions to take Joselyn to town and find
her a good room and a decent meal, but after the battles in Berwick recently,
he was not so sure something like that was possible. It was made more difficult
when Joselyn refused to go until he essentially forced her.  In tears, the
woman did as she was told. He then sent Kenneth back to the bridge with four
men to watch the road and the castle for any activity.  

But Kenneth couldn’t remain
stationary, not when his best friend was fighting for his life inside the pale
walls of Berwick Castle.  After a few hours of waiting near the bridge with his
favored weapon, his crossbow, slung across his shoulders, he gave up the fight
completely and took his men down to the river’s edge.  Very carefully, they
made their way up river, around the castle, and to the southeast side where the
postern gate was lodged.

As he watched the castle at
closer range, Kenneth was not at all sure he could wait for Seton’s arrival
from Alwick.  Every second that ticked away was a second closer to Stephen’s
death.  As he hid in the tall river grass and watched the activity on the
walls, he began concoct a plan that would either save them all or see them all
dead.

He
hoped it was not the latter.

CHAPTER TWENTY

De Velt had not moved Stephen out
of the stocks. In fact, it seemed that he didn’t want to be bothered with the
man, as he was more involved in playing lord and master of Berwick. Stephen’s
possessions were still in the keep, which de Velt had claimed as his own,
including any coinage that was in his bags.  The next morning after he had been
returned to the stocks, Stephen even saw de Velt wearing one of his tunics.  It
seemed that Morgan had not been satisfied with the bribe Stephen had presented
him with, the reason for Stephen’s return to bondage. Stephen was only willing
to give him the title of Baron Lamberton, including Ravensdowne Castle.  De
Velt was very interested, but he wanted the Pembury inheritance as well, which
Stephen would not give him.  So Stephen found himself back in the stocks and
the victim of a spiteful mercenary.

He was miserable and wounded; his
back was killing him, his ribs screaming in pain and his arms had long since
lost circulation. He couldn’t even feel them. But captive as he was, an odd and
wonderful thing occurred; a few hours after Roman and Cade had run off, the
boys returned under the cover of darkness and brought Stephen water and some
kind of bread that they had stolen from the hall.   Stephen had struggled to
resume his fury at them but couldn’t muster the strength when they were trying
so hard to help him.  It made his heart ache, these brave little boys who were
risking their lives to give him water and food.   The sustenance had kept him
alive, or at least kept his strength from leaving him completely.  It, and
they, had been a god-send.

The boys returned to him twice
more during the night and when dawn broke, they brought something they had
found stored in careful clay pots in the kitchens.  It looked like some kind of
pie and when Cade shoved it into Stephen’s mouth, he discovered it to be a cold
meat concoction.  For some reason, it made him think of his wife and her
wonderful cooking. God, he missed her.

Roman was giving Stephen the last
of the water when they began to hear footfalls. Tucked between the hall and the
kitchens as they were, there was a relative amount of privacy that had enabled
the boys to come and go on a regular basis.  But it also meant that if they
were caught by surprise, they would be cornered. The moment they heard the
boots, they dropped the cup and nearly crashed into each other in their haste
to hide.  The entire time, Stephen was hissing at them to hide until they
finally managed to wedge themselves in behind a small wall that bordered the
kitchens.  Just as they ducked behind the stone, a booted man appeared.

Kynan came to a halt when he saw
Stephen, his eyes widening.  In the early morning, he was swathed in his dusty
tartan, partially obscuring his face, and it took Stephen a moment to recognize
him.  Kynan yanked the tartan off his head, his dark eyes blazing.

“Not again,” he growled, moving
for the stocks and trying to figure out how they had all of the chains
secured.  “The bloody bastards tied ye up again, did they? Barbarians!”

He began to rattle the chains,
pulling out the iron pegs that held them secure against the wood.  He was
making enough noise that Cade and Roman heard him, too far away to hear what he
was saying but terrified that a Scots had come to remove Stephen from his
prison.   They were positive that the man was taking Stephen away to kill
him.   Cade was the first one to grab a big rock.