Lords of Darkness and Shadow (129 page)

After many long minutes of screaming, Cantia was growing tired and her throat was beginning to hurt.  When she thought perhaps Gillywiss had forgotten about her as he focused intently on her clothing, he finally waved a hand at her and ceased. 

“Well and good for you, my lady,” he said. “You scream like a stuck pig.”

Cantia rubbed her throat, eyeing the man who had at least two surcoats pulled over him, one belt around his head and another around his neck.   He had found her small and precious glass hand mirror wrapped up in her satchel and was using it to look at himself.  All the while, Cantia’s eyes never left him.  She had no idea what the man was doing or, furthermore, what he planned to do.  She was on edge every single second, watching and waiting.

Finally, Gillywiss began to take everything off.  He carefully rolled the surcoats, tucking them back in where he found them.  The belts were cautiously put back and the mirror was wrapped up in the heavy linen he had found it in.  Everything went back as nicely and neatly as when he found it.  When he was finished, he stood up and faced the three captives.

“You did not see me do this,” he instructed.

Cantia understood he meant the entire episode with the clothes because he was pointing to her bags with a wagging finger.

“As… as you say, my lord,” she said, somewhat confused.

Gillywiss put his hands on his hips and approached her, pensively. “And the screaming,” he said. “If anyone asks, you will tell them I ravaged you thoroughly. Is that clear?”

Cantia nodded.  “Aye, my lord.”

Gillywiss’ gaze lingered on her a moment before looking to Hunt and Arabel, both children gazing up at him with some puzzlement and fear. “You both,” he pointed. “You will not tell what you saw here today.  Do you understand? If you tell, very bad things will happen.”

Hunt and Arabel nodded apprehensively but said nothing, and Gillywiss returned his attention to Cantia.  It looked as if he wanted to say more but refrained.  Suddenly appearing rather depressed, a far cry from the animated man of earlier, he turned for the door.

“I will send you food,” he said.

He quit the hut, shutting the door behind him.  Cantia stood there, staring at the panel, wondering what in the world had just happened. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen.  Baffled, she sat down next to Hunt on the dirty pallet.

“Mam?” Hunt tugged on her arm. “What will we do?”

Cantia drew in a long breath as she looked at her son. “I do not know.”

Hunt’s little brow furrowed in thought. “We should esthcape,” he said firmly. “We should run away.”

Cantia had thought of that, too.  She ran a hand over her son’s blond head. “We cannot,” she said softly, looking to Arabel, who was lying beside them. “We cannot leave Lady Arabel behind, and we cannot carry her with us, so we must stay here to protect her.”

Arabel was gazing up at the pair. “Please,” she said softly, “if you escape and run back to my father, you can bring help.”

Cantia smiled faintly at the girl.  “That is very brave, but I will not leave you,” she said. “Until we can think of something else, we will all say here together.”

Arabel was coming to feel guilty, as if she was holding Cantia and Hunt back. “You cannot put yourself in such danger, my lady,” she insisted. “They will not harm me, but I fear they will do terrible things to you.  You must escape and you must take Hunt with you.”

Cantia reached out and grasped the girl’s hand, squeezing it. “I will not leave you,” she said softly. “There is nothing more to discuss. Meanwhile, we must figure out how we can get word to your father.”

Hunt had all manner of ideas on how to send word to Tevin, not the least of which was catching a bird and tying a note to its leg.   Then he thought they could catch a fox and tell it to run to Rochester.  As Cantia gently shot down every idea Hunt had, Arabel was making plans of her own.  She may have been crippled, but she wasn’t to be discounted in their quest for freedom. 

She would get them out of there.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“And I told you that I forbid you to go search for them at this time,” Geoff snarled at Tevin. “It is your fault they were abducted in the first place so I will not allow you to use my resources to hunt down a woman who is nothing more to you than a possession.  I have had an entire patrol of men wiped out near the Dartford Crossing and have commanded you to drive back those who have now commandeered the bridge. I want it back.”

Tevin was close to striking Geoff as he had ever been in his life.  Had de Lohr not been standing between him and Geoff, he more than likely would have ripped the man’s head off.  Instead, he took a step back when Myles gave him a gentle shove on the chest, pushing him back and away from the confrontation.  In the solar of Rochester, tempers were running high as precious time was wasted with Geoff’s delays.

If Geoff knows of your feelings for Cantia, he will see this as a game
. Val’s words were rolling over and over in Tevin’s mind and he struggled to keep his mouth shut about anything with regard to Cantia.  Geoff could not know she meant more to him than anything on earth.  In fact, Tevin did not use Cantia as the focus at all.  He used someone else.

“It is not Cantia I am after,” he rumbled. “I have explained this to you. My daughter is missing, Geoff, and I will find her.  I am going in search of my child and you cannot stop me.”

“I can!”

“Then you shall have to kill me. Shall we retreat outside and face off against one another?”

Geoff backed down, but only slightly. He was still red about the face, twitching with fury.   He had been pulled out of a dead sleep to face a problem he should not have to be facing, and he was very angry at his cousin for creating the situation.  High and mighty Tevin always thought he knew best.  Geoff was both thrilled and angry that his arrogant cousin had made a mistake.

“You should not have sent them away in the first place,” he pointed an accusing finger, spittle flying from his lips. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Tevin cocked a dark eyebrow, fists resting on his hips. “You know why.”

Geoff’s lips curled in a sneer. “If I knew, I would not have asked.”

Tevin’s eyes narrowed. “Because you cannot be trusted,” he said. “You have no self-control when it comes to a woman,
any
woman, so in order to protect the women residing at Rochester, I was forced to send them somewhere where you could not get to them.”

Geoff’s twitching grew worse. “You have no say in how I conduct my life, Tevin. I take what I want.”

“You cannot take Lady Cantia, Val, or Arabel.  In order to curb your temptation, I sought to move them out of your reach.”

Geoff smacked the table in front of him.  Then he threw the cups that were on it, followed by the pitcher half-filled with wine.  Ruby red liquid sprayed on the stone walls as Geoff flirted with the boundaries of a temper tantrum.

“And you were punished for it,” he seethed. “Val is injured and Lady Cantia and Arabel are missing.
You
were wrong, Tevin, not me. You cannot blame me for your failure.”

Tevin’s composure slipped a notch. “If you had any self-control, I would not have had to send them away, so do not turn this around as if I am the one with issues.  If you would act like a man once in a while and not a spoiled child, we would not have this problem.”

Geoff ripped off a barbaric yell and charged Tevin.  He ran at him crazily, hands out like claws, and Tevin easily side-stepped the man, causing him to trip over a chair and crash into a wall.  As Tevin faced him, waiting for his next move, Geoff pulled himself off of the wall and plunged a hand into his tunic, rooting around until he withdrew a wicked-looking dirk.  He flashed it at Tevin, and the stakes of the game changed dramatically.

With another yell, he charged Tevin again, dirk held high.  Tevin was prepared; as the man drew near, he reached out and grabbed his wrist, twisting it around until Geoff screamed with pain. Geoff ended up biting Tevin’s bare hand and when Tevin let go before he could break the skin, Geoff brought the dirk to bear on Tevin’s neck. 

In a movement for self-preservation, Tevin lashed up a big arm, blocking the dirk as he grabbed Geoff around the throat with his other hand.  He’d only meant to disarm him but by the way he grabbed Geoff, he ended up snapping his skull upward at an awkward angle. Bones snapped. The dirk dropped, and so did Geoff.

As quickly as the battle started, it was over.  Tevin gazed down at his cousin as Myles, having been over by the door for the duration of the fight, rushed to Geoff’s side and felt for a pulse.  After a moment, he shook his head and looked up at Tevin.

“He is dead,” he said quietly.

Tevin’s brow furrowed with disbelief. “He cannot be.”

“He is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Verily.”

Tevin’s stunned gaze moved between Geoff and Myles. “But… but I was not trying to kill him,” he said after a moment. “I was only trying to disarm him.”

Myles’ gaze lingered on Geoff. “I know,” he said. “I saw what happened. He was trying to kill you, Tevin. You did what you had to do.”

Tevin wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse by that statement.  Disbelief and shock overwhelmed him, so much so that he ended up stumbling back against the heavy table behind him as he attempted to wrap his mind around what he had just done.

“Oh…God,” he hissed.  “I did not mean to do it.”

Myles could see how shocked he was. “Tevin,” he said softly, firmly. “The man was trying to kill you. You defended yourself. What happened was an accident.   Although I normally refrain from speaking ill of the dead, you know as well as I do that Geoff was a vile, corruptible man.  His death is not an unwelcome one by any means.  You did us all a service.”

Tevin was still struggling although he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was simply the swiftness of it and the fact that he truly hadn’t been trying to kill him. He and Geoff had been given to tussles in the past, but nothing like this. He looked at Myles, his dark eyes intense as he came to terms with what he had done.  

“The truth is that, at some point, Geoff would have tried to kill me or have me killed,” he said, his voice hoarse. “He both loved and hated me, but mostly, he envied me. I know that as well as anyone. But all I can think of now is that the women in my family are finally safe.  If that is a selfish thought, then I do not apologize. It is the truth.”

Myles nodded in agreement, making his way over to him. “There is something else you must think of also.”

“What?”

“You are now the Earl of East Anglia,” he reminded him softly, a twinkle in his eye. “Long live the earl.”

Tevin stared at him, realizing he was right.  In the blink of an eye, the powerful Viscount Winterton had become the extremely powerful Earl of East Anglia. He reached out, grabbing Myles by the wrist as if to confirm the truth.  His eyes were wide on Myles, who broke into a smile.

“Aye, Tevin,” he affirmed quietly. “It is you.  What is your first command, my lord?”

Tevin struggled to push through his shock.  He now commanded thousands.  “I… I am not sure,” he hissed. “This is a day I never thought would truly come, at least not like this.”

“The day has come. Give me a command.”

Tevin maintained his grip on Myles’ wrist.  “It is strange that all I can think of at this moment is my father,” he said softly. “He was Winterton for so long.  It was always my father who would succeed as the earl, never me, at least not until four years ago when I lost both my father and Torston.”

“I remember.”

“Now that the time has come, I feel…surprise.  Unadulterated surprise.”

Myles’ expression tightened. “You must put that aside,” he said. “I realize you are shocked, Tevin, but much requires your attention at the moment. Be shocked later if you must, give in to your astonishment at that time, but right now we require your level head. We need it. Much is going on and we require your wisdom in all things. What will your first command be, my lord?”

Tevin looked at the man, knowing he was correct in every facet.  Too much depended on Tevin at the moment and he drew on that strength, that inner force of character, to settle himself.  He had to.  Forcing himself to think, he pushed himself off the table.

“Have Geoff’s body taken out of here,” he said as he moved towards the door.  He couldn’t bring himself to look at his cousin lying in a heap on the floor. “Have the servants prepare his body so we can move him to Rochester Cathedral.”

“It will be done,” Myles said smartly. “But what of you? What shall you do now?”

Tevin’s mind was working. “I will be riding for Cantia and Arabel,” he said. “There is nothing more important to me at this moment, not even Anglia.  However, you will send word to all of our allies, including Matilda and Stephen, informing them that I have assumed the earldom at Geoff’s passing.  You will also call a meeting with all of my close allies to discuss the situation and how it will now affect them.  My loyalties shall be made clear.”

Myles paused by the door, bringing Tevin to a halt. “What would that be, my lord?”

Tevin’s jaw ticked; he was gaining confidence and lucidity by the second. Now, he was doing what he was born to do. Finally, Anglia was in the hands of someone wise and intelligent. It was time to reclaim Anglia’s good name and take a stand in this land of chaos and greed. When Tevin looked at Myles, it was with all seriousness.

“Brac Penden did
not
die in vain,” he said pointedly, with emotion. “Discover who holds Dartford Crossing and tell them that I would meet with them when I return. I would suspect we are already allies. Stephen is the rightful king and I intend to support the man.”

Myles nodded, warmth in his pale blue eyes, as he marched off to carry out the earl’s orders.  Tevin stood in the doorway a moment, still stunned, yet knowing what he had to do.  Even though he’d never truly lusted after Geoff’s title and power, he realized he was more than ready to assume the mantle.  He’d been bred for this moment.

He was East Anglia.

***

Val was dead asleep when the door to her chamber opened, creaking and old. In fact, it was stuck, making noise that awakened her.  Exhausted and drugged on something the surgeon gave her, she could barely open her eyes. 

Myles came into the room, kneeling down next to the bed.  His fair face was serious as he put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Val?” he said softly. “Are you awake?”

She inhaled, long and deep, before nodding her head. “I am,” her eyes lolled open, looking at him. “What time is it?”

“Almost dawn,” Myles caressed her shoulder gently. “I have come to tell you that something has happened.”

Muddled though she may be, those words had meaning to her. Val blinked her eyes, struggling to focus. “What has happened?” she looked apprehensive. “Tevin? Is he well?”

Myles shushed her softly, cutting her off. “Geoff is dead,” he murmured. “Your brother is now the Earl of East Anglia. I am summoning men at this moment to spread the word, and then I am riding to Dartford Crossing to find out who holds the bridge. Your brother needs to speak with them. I am telling you all of this in case Tevin comes to you; he is somewhat overwhelmed by everything at the moment so he make seek solace with you.  I wanted you to be prepared.”

Val understood most of what he said, but she was still focused on Geoff’s death.  Her pale face slackened. “Geoff is
dead
?” she repeated in a whisper. “What happened?”

Myles sighed as he moved from caressing her shoulder to stroking her hair. “He attacked Tevin in anger,” he said quietly. “Your brother was trying to protect himself and accidentally killed him.”

Val’s eyes widened. “My God,” she gasped. “Where is my brother?”

“Inside the keep, but I suspect he will make his way out here to you shortly.”

“Is he not riding for Cantia and Arabel?”

“Aye, he is. He says there is nothing more important to him at this moment, not even Anglia.”

Val thought on that a moment. Then she tried to sit up. “I must go to him,” she grunted. “I must find my brother.”

Myles threw an arm across her shoulders, preventing her from rising.  She was fairly weak and didn’t give him much of a fight.  He was able to push her back to the bed without a significant struggle.

“He will come to you, I am sure,” Myles insisted softly. “Be at ease, Val. I do not want to see you further injure yourself.”

There was something in his tone that made Val take a closer look. For a man who, as long as she had known him, had only spoken of warring things and other trivial subjects, it was a tone of voice she had always wanted to hear from him. Perhaps his sympathy for her injury would cause him to say something sweet to her, something she had longed for.  Perhaps he would say that he felt more for her than just knightly camaraderie. 

“Why not?” she asked softly.

He appeared confused by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you not want to see me injure myself further?”

Myles stared at her. But as he did so, something in his blue eyes changed. They seemed to soften, grow liquid and warm. A faint smile tugged at his lips.