Lords of Darkness and Shadow (137 page)

He hugged her tightly. “It is settled, then.”

“It is,” she said, releasing him. “But do not forget that Gillywiss swore he would look for Louisa as well. Perhaps if the annulment fails, we can look to him for his assistance.”

Tevin cocked a dark eyebrow. “Which reminds me,” he said. “I have not yet asked you why you told the man so much personal information about us.”

Cantia shrugged as she tried not to look too contrite. “The truth was that he
was
holding us prisoner for a time,” she admitted. “He threatened us. I thought that if I told him something about me, it might make him more sympathetic towards us and let us go. He discovered I was not your wife but your mistress and… well, the conversation took a turn as to why you could not marry me.”

Tevin could see it was a logical progression but he was still uneasy about it. “How much does he know?”

“Most of it. What I did not tell him, Arabel did. She was afraid and her mouth simply ran amuck. Please do not be angry with us.”

He shook his head. “I am not,” he said. “But I will admit I am uncomfortable with an outlaw knowing so much about me and my life.”

Cantia thought on the very strange man she had come to know. “I do not think he is truly a bad man,” she said. “He was rather odd and pitiful, actually. He seemed to like my clothes a great deal. He tried them on more than once.”

Tevin’s eyebrows lifted. “Truly?” he thought on that. “Strange.”

She nodded.  “Strange, indeed,” she said. “I think in the end, however, he would have let us go. I believe he held some pity towards us.”

Tevin wasn’t sure what to say to that so he merely nodded, dropping his hands from her arms and clasping her hand in his big one.  He began to walk again, taking her with him.  He glanced around the enormous fortress, feeling more relaxed and settled than he had in weeks. Life was returning to a sense of normalcy and for that, he was grateful. For the first time in his life, he was genuinely looking forward to what the future may hold. 

As Tevin kissed Cantia’s hand, watching her smile happily at him, sentries began to take up the call on the walls.  Tevin paused, listening to the chatter before calling up to the men to see what all the activity was about. 

A rider was evidently approaching and Tevin remained safely back from the gatehouse with Cantia in his grip as the rider passed underneath the portcullis and was met by several armed guards.  They pulled the man off his horse and stripped him of his weaponry before they allowed him to deliver his message.  The man approached Tevin wearily.

“Dartford is under attack again, my lord,” the man told him. “Lord Chafford is requesting your aide.”

Lord Chafford was the baron in currently in charge of Dartford Crossing, a local baron north of the crossing with a sizable fighting force loyal to Stephen of Blois.  Tevin had discovered this the day he had returned with Cantia from her outlaw imprisonment and had already been in touch with the man, allowing him to hold fast the bridge with the Earl of East Anglia’s considerable support. Chafford was closer to the bridge logistically so it made sense for him to control it. Now, East Anglia’s support was being called upon.

“Who are the opposing forces?” Tevin asked.

The messenger appeared grim. “We are not sure, my lord,” he said. “It could be Surrey.”

Surrey was a sizable support network behind Matilda. More than that, it was the same force they had fought when Brac had been killed. Tevin was already motioning to a few of the senior soldiers standing around him.

“Mount the men,” he told them. “We ride within the hour.”

As the men broke up to do the earl’s bidding, Tevin quickly escorted Cantia back towards the keep. He turned to say something to her at the base of the stairs but the words caught in his throat when he saw that she was silently weeping.  He put his arms around her.

“Why do you weep?” he asked gently, kissing her forehead.

Cantia drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Because I am a foolish woman,” she tried to smile off her behavior. “You must hurry now. Your men are assembling.”

Tevin opened his mouth to reply but stopped short when Myles came flying down the exterior stairs and Tevin informed the man of the situation.  As Myles raced off to do Tevin’s bidding, Tevin returned his attention to Cantia.

“Please tell me why you weep,” he whispered.

Cantia was wiping at her cheeks, struggling to compose herself. “Please,” she shook her head, not wanting to speak on her feelings. “You must go. I will see you when you return.”

“I am not leaving until you tell me why you are crying.”

Her brave façade wavered, clearly reluctant to speak. But she relented after a few moments of struggle.

“Because the last time there was a call to retake the bridge, Brac was killed,” she whispered. Her gaze grew intense. “I cannot help but remember that moment he was brought to me with arrows sticking out of him. Tevin, if they were to return you to me in that condition, I swear I would be buried with you. I could not go on.”

Tevin suspected the reason behind her tears and was prepared. He pulled her into a tight embrace, his face buried in the side of her head.

“That will not happen to me, not today,” he assured her softly. “I have much to live for. I swear to you that I will return in good health.”

She squeezed him tightly. “I believe you.”

“Do you truly?”

“Aye.”

Tevin pulled back to look her in the eye, just to make sure she wasn’t lying to him. Seeing the luscious features gazing steadily back at him, he kissed her sweetly, twice, and gently directed her towards the stairs that led to the keep.

“Then go inside,” he told her. “Make sure the keep is locked down.  Admit no one until Myles and I return. Is that clear?”

“It is.”

He blew a kiss at her. “I love you,” he whispered as he turned to walk away. “Go inside now.”

Cantia blew a kiss in return, mounting the steps to the keep as she watched Tevin head back towards the gatehouse.  When he turned to look at her, she waved and took the steps quickly so he would not grow agitated with her.  Once inside the keep, she and a male servant threw the heavy bolt across the door as ordered.  Then, she went into the solar to wait out the men’s return with Val.

It was a very long night, but Tevin returned whole and sound as he had promised.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

May, 1140 A.D.

Cantia could feel Tevin’s hand on her belly. Asleep or awake, his hands seemed to gravitate there, feeling the round firmness of her stomach and being rewarded on occasion with strong kicks.  Even now, before dawn, they lay naked in each other’s arms, burrowed beneath the covers on an icy March morning with his arms around her and his hand on her belly. Half-asleep, Cantia could feel the strong movements of the baby.

“He is very busy this morning,” Tevin mumbled, his face against the side of her head. “How can you sleep through that?”

Cantia giggled. “I can sleep through it fine,” she pretended to be irritated and rolled away from him. “It is your talking that keeps me awake.”

Tevin’s arms tightened when he realized she was trying to move away from him.

“Nay, lady,” he muttered. “You’ll not escape me.”

Her laughter grew as he pulled her back against him, wedging himself between her legs as his hands stroked her belly and his lips nibbled sleepily on her ear.  Eventually, he lifted her leg so that it was over his hip, his fingers seeking intimate places and listening to her groan softly with pleasure. When he withdrew his fingers and entered her from behind, very carefully, Cantia turned herself over to him completely.

This was a normal morning for them. Cantia would usually awake to Tevin making love to her. His powerful seed had taken root sometime back in the fall, during that time when she was worried if she’d ever be able to conceive again. Their child was due in the summer and it was all Tevin could speak of.  In his world, it was the most important thing that blinded his thoughts to all else.

The man had always been inordinately attentive and passionate, but with the event of the pregnancy, his attentiveness, concern and understand knew no bounds. He made it well known that there was no child ever born that had been more welcome, and Cantia was always made to feel that surely there was no woman more loved.  He clearly adored her, and she clearly adored him.

Even now as he filled her with proof of his desire, all Cantia could feel from him was his deep love and devotion to her. The fact that she was to give birth to his bastard didn’t matter; to her, she was simply giving birth to the child of the man she loved and there was nothing more to it. No shame, no stigma. She had told Gillywiss once that she and Tevin were married in their hearts as much as any man and woman ever was, and it was the truth. She would give birth to this son, and then she would give birth to a dozen more just like him. The mighty Earl of East Anglia must have his legacy.

The physical changes had come over her fairly rapidly as her belly grew quickly. She felt fine most of the time except for occasional exhaustion, but her sexual appetite was enormous. Because of the way the child would sit in her belly, she experienced climaxes so powerful that Tevin had to put his hand over her mouth to keep her screams down and this morning was no exception.  Cantia experienced a strong released that had her crying out in ecstasy. Tevin simply put his mouth over hers, kissing her passionately and trying to keep the noise down as he spent himself inside her. Never in his life had he known such desire or lust. It was beyond his wildest dreams.

“You,” he murmured, his mouth still on hers, “must contain yourself, madam. One of these days your cries are going to raise the roof and I will have a good deal of explaining to do.”

She grinned sleepily, satisfied, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you complaining, my lord?”

He grinned devilishly. “Never,” he kissed her again. “But I fear you are drawing the concern of Arabel. Her chamber is right below ours, you know. I think she heard you once because she asked me what you were screaming about. You know how I am when she asks me questions like that.”

Cantia laughed softly. “You become tongue-tied and embarrassed,” she teased. “The only things that can stump the mighty Earl of East Anglia are personal questions from his fifteen-year-old daughter.”

He made a face at her, kissed her one last time, and climbed out of bed.  It was still dark in the room, as it was just before sunrise, so he lit a fat taper with a flint and stone purely so he could see where he was walking. The massive wardrobe over by the wall was his destination and he opened the doors to a neat and tidy network of possessions, long cleared of Brac Penden’s remnants.

“I have a conference in Thurrock this evening with Lord Chafford,” he said, turning to glance at her. “You remember him, do you not?”

Cantia was sitting up in bed.  She made a face. “Of course,” she said, reaching for her dressing robe on the end of the bed. “A fat man with foul breath.”

Tevin grinned as he pulled forth leather breeches. “That may be,” he said, pulling on his breeches, “but the man commands a strong force that has held Dartford Crossing for months. It would seem that Stephen has been in touch with the man and wants to meet with us both, evidently. Lord Chafford and I need to discuss strategy for that meeting.”

“Am I coming with you?”

“I would prefer that you did not. His stronghold is north of the Dartford Bridge and I must cross it in order to reach him. I do not want you on that bridge right now, not with all of the fighting that has gone on around it over the past several months.”

She didn’t like that answer. “Why cannot Lord Chafford come to Rochester? Why must you go to him?”

“Because he invited me.”

“You are the earl, Tevin. You do not bow to another’s summons. Tell him you will meet him at Rochester.”

It was not a request or suggestion. It was a command. He fought off a grin; Cantia had been quite the tyrant as of late, unusual for the normally sweet and accommodating lady.  He found the fire of pregnancy quite humorous at times, but he also had a healthy respect for it.  If he didn’t defer to her wishes in all things, there was often hell to pay.  The powerful Earl of East Anglia was controlled by a lovely slip of a woman and he didn’t give a lick about it. He loved it.

“If that is your wish, sweetheart, then I will send him word and tell him to come here tonight.”

“Good,” she nodded her head decisively. “Let that be the end of it.”

“You will have to entertain him and be a party to his foul breath all evening, then.”

She made a face at him. “I would rather suffer through it than have you away from me, even for a night.”

He just smiled at her as he pulled a heavy linen tunic from the wardrobe. Cantia was on her feet, pulling the robe over her head as she moved for a second robe that was heavy brocade lined with lamb’s wool.

“Why would Stephen want to meet with you both?” she wanted to know.

Tevin pulled a tunic over his head followed by another one of heavier wool. “Because I control the south side of the Dartford Bridge along with all of the roads from Gillingham to Wellhall. Moreover, East Anglia is my stronghold and I have ten thousand men at my disposal.  I am more important to Stephen than most.”

She fell silent as she sat down on the bed to pull on her doeskin boots, very warm in the icy morning. 

“Rochester is far from East Anglia,” she said softly. “When do you plan to return to Thunderbey Castle?”

He glanced over his shoulder to reply, noticing she was having difficulty pulling on her shoes. Her belly was already quite large and got in the way of normal activities.  He went over to her, taking the boot and gently slipping it on her foot.

“Not until this baby is born,” he said. “Many things have been put on hold because of him.”

Cantia watched him pull on her shoe. “Like our trip to Saxony to seek Louisa’s father?”

“Like that.”

“I told you that I was fine to travel in the beginning. We could have been there and back again in these past several months.”

He looked her in the eye, somewhat sternly. “I am not going to travel with my pregnant lady. I told
you
that.”

“So we must wait until your son is born before we do anything to that regard?” she asked, growing pouty. “Then you will not travel with an infant, and neither will I. He will be several years old before we will be able to travel to Saxony, but what if we have more children? We will never go and we will never receive our annulment because I will never be able to travel.”

“I could always send a missive, as I have suggested.”

“And chance that it would not be received? A thousand things could happen to a lone messenger. Nay, we must all go together to ensure our request is received and approved.”

Tevin wasn’t about to suggest he could go alone; it would not be well met, at least not at this time, so he did what he usually did when she grew upset - he shifted the subject in an effort to both distract and comfort her.

“I am sure there are many different possibilities we can speak of at another time,” he said quietly. “But in speaking of Thunderbey, to reiterate my position on the subject, I do not want to force you to travel over miles of open road in your condition, so we will wait until the child is born before I will as much as entertain the thought of returning home. Why would you ask such a question?”

Attention successfully diverted for the moment, she shrugged as she handed him the other boot and he slipped that one on as well.

“Rochester is my home,” she said simply. “Hunt was born here and this child shall be born here. Do you not like it here?”

He nodded. “I like it very much,” he reached down and carefully pulled her to her feet. “But, as you said, it is far from East Anglia. At some point, I must return home to my castle and to my people. I do not want to be gone overlong from my lands.”

Her brow furrowed and he could see the pout coming.  “I suppose,” she said, doing a bad job of hiding her unhappiness. “But I do not want to travel with a new baby and if you must return to Thunderbey at some point soon, I am afraid you will go without us. I do not want you to go without us.”

He kissed her forehead, hugging her gently. “I will never go anywhere without you,” he assured her softly. “I have told you that before. I will never leave your side, Cantia, not ever.”

“Promise?”

“Of course I do.”

He appeased her somewhat and was in the process of kissing her again when he heard sentry shouts coming from the bailey. Going to the window, he pulled back the oil cloth to reveal and enormous bailey below, alive with the glow of dozens of torches.  As Tevin watched the activity, Cantia came up behind him.  Together, they watched the commotion on the walls.

“I wonder what the activity is about?” Cantia asked. “What could be happening so early in the morning?”

Tevin had his arm around her shoulders.  He watched the increasing commotion for a moment longer before kissing her on the temple and releasing her.  Returning to the open wardrobe, he pulled on a pair of woolen socks before sliding into his heavy leather boots.

“I will find out,” he said. “I want you to stay to the keep until I know what is going on.”

“But I have a meal to supervise.”

“You may not go outside for any reason, at least not until I know what has my soldiers so excited.”

She sighed and sat down beside him, watching him tie off the last boot.  He leaned over and swiftly kissed her before rising from the bed and heading to the door.

“I will return shortly,” he said.

Cantia blew him a kiss as he left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.  With nothing to do and nowhere to go, she ended up lying back down on the bed and quickly fell back asleep.

When she dreamt, it was of copper-haired babies and summer weddings.

***

Tevin could hardly believe what he was seeing.

He actually looked at Myles, who was standing next to him, as if to confirm that the man was seeing the same thing.  Myles looked surprised as well, so Tevin knew they were both envisioning the same thing.  In the darkness of the new dawn, a group of weary and ragged people stood at the gatehouse of Rochester.  Men in disheveled clothing, old weaponry, and one very old ox cart comprised the group, and at the head of it was Gillywiss.

Tevin had the gate guards raise the portcullis. When it lifted mid-way, he walked underneath it with Myles, John and Simon behind him. Although John and Simon did not know who Gillywiss was, as they’d never met the man, they could see that the appearance had Tevin surprised. With weapons drawn, they stood behind the earl as he engaged the rag-tag leader of the group.

“What are you doing here?” Tevin asked the man. “What is so important that has you traveling in the darkness?”

Gillywiss was astride an old bay stallion.  He wearily slid off the beast, coming to stand before Tevin with his usual wild-eyed look and toothy smile.  In spite of his exhaustion, he bowed gallantly.

“My lord earl,” he said. “I have brought you something that will make you forever remember my name.”

Tevin cocked an eyebrow at the bold boast. “What do you mean?”

Gillywiss cocked a finger at him and began to walk back into his group of haggard travelers. “Come with me, my fine earl,” he said. “I want you to see what I have for you.”

As Tevin hesitantly followed, Myles, John and Simon fell in behind him with their weapons at the ready.  The dirty, ragged group of men that had accompanied Gillywiss gave them a wide berth, unwilling to provoke the heavily armed knights.  When the entire group reached the ox cart that was in horrific condition, Gillywiss tossed back the dirty canvas that covered the majority of the straw-covered bed. Upon it, in the darkness, lay a body.