Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul) (26 page)

Talon slowly lifted his head, understanding for the first time his heart had no place here.  “My loyalties lie with the kingdom, its people, and the law.  Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Well said, Montgomery.  I bid fair eve to you.”

“And I to you,” Talon replied, trudging away, feeling as if he had just signed his daughter’s death writ.  He longed for his sweet solace, the comfort of Gwen’s arms and body, her love which so entirely sheltered him.  But he remained alone...completely and utterly alone.

A hand roughly seized his arm.  “I heard your conversation,” a voice growled.

Talon turned, blinking the grit from his eyes and dimly recognizing another marcher earl, Mortimer.

“Greetings,” Talon said tiredly.

“Oh you have played the fool,” Mortimer said, his voice soft.

“What mean you?” Talon asked, hauling his arm from the man’s grasp.

“Our sovereign,” he snarled with contempt.  “Has not told you of the treaty.”

“What treaty?”

“Montfort has made a deal with the Prince of Wales, Llewellyn.  For the price of marriage to Montfort’s daughter, the borders against Wales have been pushed back.  The Marches, our ancestral lands granted to us since the time of William the Conqueror are no more.  At the beginning of the new year, our homes become Welsh territory.”

Talon froze in horror.  Montfort had taken a pledge of Montgomery’s gold, a majority of their year’s income, without mentioning this?  He would take Talon’s money then leave him destitute because of an unneeded treaty?

“I am as homeless as Essex,” Talon whispered.

“Not yet,” Mortimer hissed.  “We can still stop him if we ally with Prince Edward.  I will no longer pledge my sword to Henry...but his son...his son is different.”

And pledging allegiance to Edward would maintain his daughter’s life.  “Aye, this is wrong,” Talon muttered.  “Montfort cares nothing for the Provisions, except how they benefit him.  I pledged my sword to the Provisions, not to Montfort.  May God rest our souls.”

Mortimer’s hand tightened on his arm.  “’Tis a good choice, Montgomery.  My men are only leagues away.”

Talon listened to his words, not caring anymore, his dream had been betrayed a long time ago but he had been too blind to realize it.  His only hope for his daughter and for his future now resided in an unpredictable prince.  Montfort had completely betrayed his purpose and ideals.

He thought of Gwen and his daughter, of his home which had been in his family since William the Conqueror.  He thought of his people who knew fair justice in his courts, of the idealism his heritage had instilled in him...he thought of a culture and community which prospered under love, heart, and belief.

He would never, ever give that away.  Not without a bloody fight.

“May God grant me courage and ability,” Talon said.  “I will never deny my people and put them under yoke and cross, they deserve more than that.”

Mortimer blinked at him.  “What say you?  Montgomery, you do this for the wrong reasons.  Our duty is to bring our royals to book.”

“Aye.”  Talon turned on his heel and walked away, heart sore and soul weary.

May
28, 1265

Talon had spent over a month and a half with Montfort’s entourage.  The Christmas celebration had come and gone, Twelfth Night quickly approaching.  He spoke unobtrusively with Price Edward and Mortimer when he could manage it.  Mortimer’s men were still struggling to catch up with the fast moving group.

Through it all Talon watched Montfort’s greed grow daily, sickening Talon to the core of his being.  Talon witnessed a man hanged for the crime of treason that he was sure was just as false as Essex’s conviction.  His lands were canceled, his family cast out of their homes, and his livestock confiscated.  Among them forty head of the finest horses Talon had ever seen.

They set camp for the evening when Mortimer caught up with Talon.  “Montgomery,” he said, his voice low.  “I fear my men will have a hard time catching us.”

He nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully.  Prince Edward had approached the tethered horses, looking at them with avid interest.

“Did you send that messenger for the gold?” Mortimer asked.

“I did.  I want to give Montfort no cause to suspect me for any reason,” although he had to admit, treachery never set well with him.  He would prefer to settle everything on a battlefield out in the open.

“Good thinking,” he sighed and gazed around the large camp.

“Mortimer,” Talon asked, weighing his words carefully.  “Have you heard of anyone, perhaps royalists, abducting people to gain control?”

“Abducting?  Nay, only of Montfort who holds Edward and Henry, why?”

“Nothing,” Talon said and shrugged.  “Just a wild rumor I heard mentioned.”

Mortimer gave him a suspicious glance but let the matter drop.  “We cannot continue much longer like this.  Montfort has Henry under lock and key.  If it comes to battle we will be hard pressed to free him.”

“As much as I hate to say it, I think our best hope lies with the Prince.”  His brow furrowed as he continued to watch Edward examine the horses.  An idea suddenly sparked.  “Mortimer, how far away are your men?”

“About forty miles behind us.”

Talon nodded, his eyes narrowing.  “Our prince is one of the finest riders I’ve ever seen.  I daresay he could control almost any mount even bareback.”

Mortimer’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and his gaze also locked on the prince.

Talon’s thoughts spun, liking his idea more and more.  Risky, aye, very much so.  But he knew Longshanks would not shy from it.  “Forty head.  If he takes the whole tether, he can ride a horse into the ground and switch to another.  Because it was not burdened with a rider, it will be quiet fresh.”

A sudden gleam sparked in Mortimer’s eyes.  “By the Rood, Montgomery, I like your strategies.”  He glanced around.  “The guards grow slack and evening falls.  I can tell Edward where to find my men,
and then slip away during the mayhem.  You, my friend, would also be best served to do the same.  Intercept that gold from Montgomery before you lose everything.”

“Aye.  Essex might suffer a bit, but if Edward is victorious, he should correct the problem.”

“He will.  I am sure of it.”

“I just hope I have not slit my own throat with him.  Edward is not known to be a merciful man.”

“I think this scheme of yours will redeem you.  Come let us see if we can speak to him about this.”

They joined Edward and Talon managed to lay out his plan discreetly.  Edward’s eyes gleamed a predatory light as he listened.  “Risky,” he agreed.  “But well worth the gamble.  I would need a distraction.”

“Mortimer,” Talon said.  “Perhaps our men could have a...discussion...about a dicing game.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Mortimer said with a wink.

“Stay near the horses and be ready for anything.”

Edward nodded.

It didn’t take Talon and Mortimer long to put the word to their men.  A short distance from Edward, close enough to attract his guard but not so close as to put him with easy reach, one of Talon’s men violently shoved one of Mortimer’s.

“Whoreson!” he roared.  “I knew those dice were not balanced.”  He swung and landed a hard right hook in the man’s jaw.  Mayhem exploded with Talon and Mortimer’s men brawling like drunken barbarians.  Talon and Mortimer waded into the fray, bellowing and tossing men aside, but making little headway.

The sentries, always interested in a good fight, moved closer, shouting encouragement.  A few even started taking bets.

Talon hesitated and shot a glance at Edward, noting he was alone and quickly cutting the picket line that secured the horses.  Suddenly a fist caught Talon in the jaw, staggering him a step.

This was not part of the plan!

Furious, he regained his balance and launched his own fist, plowing it into the man’s nose and knocking him flat on his back where the man remained unmoving.  The brawl quickly escalated.  Talon lost track of everything else except defending himself.  He hadn’t been involved in a good fisticuffs in a long time...and glory did it feel wonderful.

Several minutes, bruised egos, broken noses, black eyes, and bloody lips later, Talon managed to haul apart the last two men fighting.  He bent with his hands on his knees and tried to suck in a breath, but another quick glance told him Edward was long gone.

“What is the meaning of this?” Montfort cried as he and his son stormed toward them.

“Apologies,” Talon said, still panting.  He straightened slightly and wiped the blood from his lip.  “I fear the men had a disagreement about their game.  Mortimer and I tried to control it but it took fair doing.”

Montfort looked heavenward, as if seeking patience.  He shook his head in disgust.  “Get yourselves cleaned up.”  He started to turn then hesitated, his eyes narrowing.  “You!” he roared at two men at arms exchanging money.  His gaze swept the crowd but Talon knew he did not see the man he was looking for.  He schooled his features into puzzlement but fortunately Montfort ignored him.

“Where is your charge?” Montfort              cried, storming towards the two men.  They turned a pasty shade of white, retreating slightly, gazing in horror around them.  “The horses?  Where are the horses?”  Montfort spun, his face livid with rage.  “To your mounts, find the prince now!”

“Up you sorry louts,” Talon roared, hauling his men to their feet.  “Get to your horses!”  But he had already told them they would ride hard not after Edward but for home.  A two month journey at best because he hoped to intercept his gold shipment before it reached Montfort’s castle.

Mortimer caught his eye and gave him a ghost of a smile before also hauling his men up and sprinting for his horse.  He would ride away from Montfort then join his men when it was safe.  Talon just hoped the prince would succeed in his bid for freedom or they were probably all dead, right along with Rose.

****

To Gwen it seemed like it took forever for her to recover enough that she could stand and walk a few paces without becoming dizzy.  True to his word Lucais sent word to Montgomery.  Alys and a group of men arrived shortly thereafter with some of Gwen’s gowns, and a letter from Marcus.

Marcus was ecstatic to learn of Gwen’s survival, having taken to his sick bed after fearing he had failed his lord a second time.  But the good news had him up and around again.  Gwen still worried over him, hoping he was taking care of himself.

Marcus also wrote that Talon had not yet returned, but had sent a rider requesting a huge sum of funds which concerned him greatly.  The money was sent right away, along with a message about Gwen’s disappearance.  Marcus had sent a second message as soon as he received Gwen’s letter, hoping the rider could catch the first message and prevent it from being delivered to Talon lest it break his heart.

Gwen’s swelling belly started to become more noticeable but fortunately her loose fitting gowns helped hide her condition somewhat.  Finally, the Templars pronounced her fit to endure a wagon ride to Montgomery.  Disguised as mercenaries she had hired by promising them money when they arrived at the keep, twelve Templars, led by Lucais, escorted her home.  Considering all she had suffered, the heavily armed men were prudent in any regard.

She arrived at Montgomery to a warm welcome from the servants and men at arms.  Marcus greeted her in the bailey and helped her from the wagon.

“My lady,” he cried, joy in his eyes.  “I am so glad you are home.”

She smiled warmly but gazed up at him concerned.  Marcus appeared as if he had aged a decade in the time she had been gone.  His face held little color, the worry lines on his face more prominent, and his hair shot with more gray.

“Dear Marcus,” she said, firmly entangling her arm in his.  “Are you all right?”

He covered her hand with his own.  “I am now, lady,” he said and gave her a wink.  He gazed up at her guard.  “Prudent but where did you find them?”

“They are the Templars in disguise,” she whispered.  “Come to assist us in finding Rose.”

Marcus gaped at her.

Then louder, she said.  “Good Marcus, I promised these mercenaries gold for their escort and continued to service to me.  Would you see to their payment?”

He inclined his head.  “Of course lady, as soon as we get you settled.”

That evening Marcus surprised Gwen with a fine feast and revel in celebration of her homecoming.  A large pig had been roasted with a bright red apple in its mouth.  Breads, puddings, and other delights adorned the trimmings of the table, along with fine wine and cheese.  It’s a wonder the table didn’t groan with the weight of the feast.  Gwen felt sad that this revel wasn’t to celebrate Talon’s return.  She missed him so badly she felt as if there was a hole in her heart.  She longed to feel his arms around her, the gentle but intense passion of his kiss.  She wished he was present to press his hand against her belly and feel the strong kicks of his child as it grew.

But in a way, she was grateful he was not here.  If he knew of her breeding, Talon would be beside himself with worry.  He had lost one wife to childbirth, and there were no guarantees he would not lose her as well.  But she straightened her spine.  If Gwen had anything to say about the matter Talon would have her by his side for a very long time.

And she was grateful for another reason.  Gwen was determined to find Rose.  The Templars had wasted no time, scattering into the garrison and rooting for information.  Lucais stood near the wall behind Gwen, his arms folded over his barrel chest, her self
-appointed guardian.  His eyes examined the crowd as if he could truly see their souls and if they harbored any ill will towards House Montgomery.

One of his men approached, keeping to the shadows.  Gwen only saw him because she had been watching Lucais out of the corner of her eye.  She was careful not to focus intently on them, instead concentrating on her food.  The man handed Lucais a note who read it, nodded, and whispered something.  The man quickly departed.

Lucais stepped toward Gwen, dutifully attending her wine cup since the servants were so busy.  “My lady,” he whispered, his voice low.  “We have discovered two of the spies.”

The blood drained from her face and she almost choked on her food.  She downed a large swallow of wine and Lucais refilled her cup.  “Already?” she choked.

A smile played on the corners of his lips.  “I told you, my lady, that we specialize in this.”  He grew more somber.  “The spies do not know we have discovered them.  We will watch and wait, seeing who they report to, and following without raising suspicion.”

“Be careful, Lucais, please,” she said sternly.  “I will not be the cause of Rose’s death.  How could I ever face Talon if that happened?”

“Worry not, lady, the little one’s welfare rests on my shoulders.  She will not come to harm.  I will keep you informed of our progress.”

“Thank you.”

****

Early July, 1265

Talon walked beside his mount on the muddy trail, a cold drizzle drenched him and his men.  The rain felt more like winter than a summer shower.  Talon’s mount hung his head as he walked.  Talon was still in a hurry to reach home, he and his men had pushed their horses hard.  Talon walked only to give his horse a much needed respite and to stretch his own aching legs.  It would only slow them down more if the animal collapsed.

“I am sorry, my friend,” he muttered to his horse, giving him a warm pat.  Ebon tossed his head as if accepting the apology.

Despite Talon’s urgency to be home, they had been forced to add a month to their journey in order to travel to Montfort’s castle to hopefully intercept the gold shipment.  Upon their arrival two days ago, they discovered Talon’s money had not yet been delivered.  Presumably delayed by the especially inclement winter this year.  Assuring them he would find it on the trail between here and Montgomery, Talon set off again.

In the distance, visibility worsened by the heavy drizzle and fog that accompanied the low hanging clouds, Talon heard the sound of men and a wagon approaching.  His men stiffened, hands on their weapons.  Slowly the dark shadow took shape.

Four guards flanked a heavy wagon, entirely enclosed with thick oak and metal banding.  Next to the wagon horses rode a herald with Montgomery’s colors.  Talon breathed a sigh of relief.  Marcus would not allow such a large sum to travel without heavily armed escort.