Lords of Darkness and Shadow (103 page)

“To secure a safe and peaceful England,” the physic said, moving towards Guy. “You have been jostled a bit this night, young de Braose. Let me take a look at those ribs. Careful one does not break free and impale a lung.”

Guy lifted an eyebrow at the encouraging thought but dutifully sat back in the chair and allowed the old man room to work. He watched the physic closely as the man began to poke at him.

“I heard what you said,” he muttered.

Gilby was busy examining him. “What did I say?
“You called Lady Sheridan de Lara’s wife. Was that just a scare tactic for those soldiers so they would not harm us?”

Gilby did look at him, then.  “It was the truth. I was witness to the marriage.”

Guy stared at him a moment before looking away, barely flinching when Gilby caused him pain. At the moment, his disappointment and shock had him quite distracted.

“When?” he managed to ask.

“Tonight.”

Guy pursed his lips and looked away.  “So de Lara is the victor,” he grunted when Gilby tightened the bindings on his ribs. “I should have removed her from the Tower when I had the chance. I should have taken her out of this place when Jocelin agreed to the contract and never looked back.”

Gilby secured the binding. “It was not meant to be.” He cast a long glance at Guy. “Sean was always to be the victor, young de Braose. You could have taken Sheridan to the ends of the earth and Sean would always be first in her heart. Never you. ‘Tis time to accept the truth.”

Guy was in pain, disappointed and exhausted.  He’d spent far too much energy on the struggle to survive over the past few days and this latest blow had his strength finally crumbling. So the lovely Lady Sheridan was not to be his; the discouragement was tangible. He should have been extremely bitter but he found he was just heartsick.  He had fallen in love with the lady more than he’d realized. She wasn’t a possession to be had. It was more than that.

Gilby watched Guy slump against the back of the chair, closing his dark eyes.  The old physic’s gaze lingered on the man, inordinately strong for one so slender and seemingly weak-looking. But the loss of the lady had taken his toll on his constitution; Gilby could see it draining before his eyes.

He wondered if that was all he would see drained before this night was out. 

“… even if I had known my own death was approaching, I would not have changed my actions for better or for worse. For a bright, shining moment, I saw my fate and I welcomed it….”

The Chronicles of Sir Sean de Lara

1206 - 1215 A.D.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“But why do you wish to see the king?”

Father Simon asked the question gently. He was still trying to figure out why this foolish young girl had returned to the Tower on the eve of a siege. All was smoky and apprehensive in London at this time, but Alys seemed oblivious to it. In fact, she seemed almost defiant.

“Because my sister is here,” she insisted. “I must find her. Perhaps the king will know where she is.”

An odd gleam came to Father Simon’s eye. “Is that why you have come? To find your sister?”

Alys nodded firmly.  “She… well, she was quite upset over… well, it does not matter what she was upset over. She has come back to the Tower to find Sean de Lara.”

“How do you know?”

“Because there is no where else she would go.”

Father Simon gazed at her a moment; she was a pretty girl, not nearly the beauty her sister was, but pretty nonetheless.  He was still having trouble with the concept that she had come back to the Tower in the midst of a building battle to look for her sister.  But, then again, her sister had done the exact same thing so the priest should not have been surprised. It seemed that all the St.James women had somewhat of a foolish streak in them.

After a long pause, the priest puffed out his cheeks and sat heavily next to her on the narrow pew.  Alys watched him anxiously.

“It is not necessary to see the king,” he said quietly.

“But…!”

He cut her off. “Your sister is here. I saw her myself not two hours ago.”

Alys’ eyebrows flew up. “Where is she?”

Father Simon debated how much to tell her. He opted for all of it; she would find out that her sister had married de Lara soon enough.

“I am not sure at the moment,” he said in a low voice. “But she married Sean de Lara two hours ago and he took her away. I do not know where he has taken her.”

Alys’ mouth popped open with astonishment. “She
married
Sean?”

“I officiated myself.”

Alys suddenly leapt up and began jumping up and down. “You must find her. You must find them both!”

Father Simon rose and put out his hands in an attempt to soothe her; she was certainly an excitable girl. Noisy, too. He shushed her.

“I will do what I can,” he assured her. “But you must remain here and not leave this place. It is not safe for you on the grounds.  Do you understand me?”

Alys was still jumping around, though trying to contain herself.  She was exhausted and agitated, now with the added excitement of her sister’s marriage. She could hardly stand still.

“Aye,” she insisted hurried. “But you must find Sean.”

Father Simon nodded and put his hands out to her again as if to wordlessly caution her. His expression told her much. Alys stopped jumping and watched, wide eyed, as he made his way to the chapel door. 

The priest opened the door carefully, peering outside into the darkened courtyard. It was dark and relatively vacant. Seeing that the soldiers were upon the battlements and focused on the city beyond the walls, he slipped from the door and shut it softly behind him. 

He stayed to the shadows mostly, making his way towards the east side of the fortress. He wasn’t sure where Sean would be with his new wife but he suspected as far away as possible from the king, which meant he would not be in the Tower. The priest wasn’t really sure where he was going as he moved across the mud of the ward.  He was almost moving aimlessly, pondering which direction to take. But soon he had his answer.

The Shadow Lord was unmistakable as he crossed the compound.  He did so without his usual stealth, as he had no reason to skulk in the shadows as he normally did. Tonight, he was allowed to move in the open as a major battle loomed outside of the walls. Father Simon recognized Sean right away and headed towards him, picking up his pace as he crossed the gently sloping bailey. They were to the north of the White Tower, the half-moon glow hidden behind the great turreted top. All was silent and still for the moment and Father Simon was trying to decide how to tell Sean of Alys’ appearance; surely the man would be enraged by the foolish behavior and Father Simon didn’t want a brotherly beating on his hands. But just as Sean passed the mid-way point of the Tower heading towards him, all hell broke loose.

It started as a loud crash when the door leading from the Tower suddenly slammed back on its hinges. As Father Simon watched in horror, soldiers poured from the door and leapt down the steps, rushing in Sean’s direction. Sean didn’t seem overly surprised by the sight; in fact, he was rather calm as he unsheathed his sword and the tide of men rushed at him. But the men pouring from the Tower were too great in number and in a matter of seconds, Sean was overwhelmed. It was as if he was literally swallowed alive. His body vanished in a sea of mail and men.

Father Simon scattered, not wanting to become upswept in the ambush overtaking de Lara.  He threw himself against the outbuilding lodged against the north side of the wall, hiding like a coward as he watched Sean battle for his life. Whoever had arranged the ambush had not taken anything for chance; they knew the Shadow Lord well. De Lara could have handled a dozen men quite easily, but there was at least triple that number descending on him.  Father Simon could no longer see him in the dark, jumbled mass of men but he could hear sword against sword. There was still a fight going on somewhere in the middle of the throng.  But the priest was positive that de Lara did not have a chance of survival.

He was sure that he had just witnessed the Shadow Lord’s demise. Shaken, Father Simon fell back into the shadows and rushed away from the fighting. The chapel was his only safe haven and he raced for it, hoping he would not be followed by the blood thirsty soldiers who had de Lara in their grasp. By the time he reached the chapel, he burst into the warm hall as if the Devil himself was chasing him.

Alys both heard and saw him charge in. The panting had been a dead giveaway that something terrible was amiss. She further watched as the man hurriedly retrieved a large wooden bolt from the corner and threw it across the door to secure it. He was breathing heavily to the point of gasping and Alys approached him timidly.

“What is wrong?” she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. “Why did you come back so soon?”

Father Simon’s hand was over his mouth in horror as he leaned against the door, beads of sweat upon his pale forehead. But his gaze found Alys and, still horrified, he went to her and grabbed her firmly by the arms.

“We must find your sister immediately,” he hissed, taking her by the hand and dragging her towards the altar. “She is in great danger.”

“Why?” Alys demanded, half terrified and half outraged. “What has happened?”

Father Simon did not want to tell her. He did not want her to panic. He already had far more panic than he could handle.  

“Ask no more questions,” he told her, throwing open a small door that was in the vestibule behind the chapel. “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live.”

Wide-eyed with fear, Alys wisely did as she was told. The small door led to a narrow staircase that sloped slightly before ending in another small door. This opening led to the cloister behind the chapel where the priests lived. Father Simon yanked Alys through the darkened corridor and into a building smelling of stale air and body odor. 

But they did not stop there. They continued through the building and exited the other side where they found themselves on the north side of the inner courtyard.  Father Simon was heading for the buildings where the nobles were usually housed, buildings he suspected where Lady de Lara would be. A wall separated him and Alys from Sean’s battle and he kept his ears peaked, listening for any sounds of a struggle. But he could not hear any. Everything was strangely silent.

His attention refocused to the lady in his grasp, knowing he had to find her sister and get them both out of the Tower. He could not wait for direction from the Marshall; as far as he knew, the man was conferring with the allies laying siege to London and out of reach. He would therefore have to depend on his own instincts in handling the fall of the Shadow Lord. Their network of intrigue was crumbling. God help him, he could still scarcely believe it. He had to get to Lady de Lara before the king did. 

Yanking Alys behind him, he tried to stay to the shadows as he made his way to the east side of the Tower. The Flint Tower was closest and he headed towards it; a safe, dark haven in the midst of the hell going on around him. Next to the Tower were the buildings that housed the visiting nobles. He could only guess that was where Lady de Lara was located; if she wasn’t, then he was at a loss to know where she would be.  He began to pray very hard that his assumptions were correct. There was little time to go hunting for her. Behind him, he could hear Alys panting with fear.

A corridor led from the Flint Tower into the upper floor of the two level building. It was dark and eerily still as he and Alys slowed their pace, traversing the black corridor by clinging to the walls. These old corridors smelled like dust and smoke, adding to the ambience of uncertainty and fear. Father Simon had no way of knowing who might lay in wait for them; with the chaos of the Tower at the moment, every shadow and every door could be deadly. Their pace was very slow.

They had traveled about half way down the length of building when Father Simon saw a sliver of light coming from one of the closed doors. Leaving Alys in the shadows, he made his way silently to the door and leaned into it, listening carefully. All was silent for several long moments and he almost pulled his ear from the door. But then, he thought he heard humming. It was faint, but the sound was unmistakable. Puzzled, he continued to listen, wondering who would be shuffling about the room humming until he heard something clatter to the floor and a softly uttered curse. The light of recognition came to Father Simon’s eyes; he knew that voice. God be praised, he knew it. Softly, he knocked.

The humming stopped immediately and he heard more shuffling going on.   Father Simon knocked again.

“Gilby?” he called softly. “Gilby, open the door. Let me in.”

Another long pause and then the door flew open. Gilby stood in the doorway but so did Guy, the knight with a broadsword in his hand. Gilby yanked the priest into the room. Alys bolted in after him and they locked the door.

Inside the room with a faint fire flickering in the hearth, the four of them faced one another with trepidation. Each was waiting for the other to say something. Finally, Gilby was the first to speak.

“What are you doing here?” he asked the priest.

“Looking for you,” Father Simon told him. “Is Lady de Lara with you?”

“She is,” Gilby nodded. “Why? Did de Lara send you?”

Father Simon wasn’t sure where to start but he had to speak and he had to do it quickly. The situation was spiraling and he felt a panicked sense of urgency.

“We must remove Lady de Lara immediately,” he said. “Something… something dreadful has happened.”

Gilby’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

Father Simon swallowed, eyeing Alys as he did so; she did not know why they had fled the chapel and he hoped she would not fly into hysterics as he told the sordid tale.

“De Lara was ambushed by the White Tower,” he lowered his voice. “I saw it with my own eyes. It will only be a matter of time before the king comes looking for Lady de Lara. We must remove her immediately.”

Gilby didn’t change expressions but Alys grabbed the priest by the arm; she had a wild look to her eye. “He was ambushed?” she screeched.

Father Simon pried her fingers off his flesh. “He was set upon by dozens of the king’s soldiers,” he said. “Even a warrior as strong as de Lara would have difficulty surviving such a thing. I can only assume that… that he is….”

“Did you see him fall?” Guy entered the conversation, sounding stronger than he looked. His dark eyes glittered in his pale face. “Did you see his death?”

Father Simon shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But there were dozens of soldiers, my lord. There is no way for him to survive such a thing.”

“I would not be too sure,” Guy replied. “You speak of the Shadow Lord, after all.  If anyone could survive such a thing, he could.”

“I did not wait around to find out,” the priest lifted an eyebrow. “I came to take Lady de Lara from this place. She cannot remain.”

“Why not?” a very weary, very intense female voice came from the doorway leading to the bower; with all of their chattering they had awoken the sleeping patient.  Sheridan stood there in her blood stained dress, looking pale and exhausted. “Moreover, I am not leaving without my husband. Where is he?”

The four of them stared at her, unsure how to tell her what had just been reported. They felt guilty that they had been caught in conversation, guilty that they did not want to tell her the truth. But she had overheard some of it. They had to tell her the rest. Alys finally broke the silence.

“He has been ambushed, Dani,” she tried to be gentle. “We must leave this place before they get you, too.”