Rise of the Defender (93 page)

     She continued to grin at him as he looked
at her from underneath his hand. Then he drug it the length of his face and
pulled her down to him once again.

     “I love you, Dustin,” he said softly.
Against him, he felt her snicker. “Why do you laugh?”

     “Because that is the first time you have
ever told me without me telling you first,” she said. “Lord, Chris, you are
turning into a sappy fool with enough honeyed words to fill a cesspool.”

     “And you hate honeyed words, I know,” he agreed
with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “Please do not slug me.”

     “I won't, I promise,” she said, snuggling
against him. “Only from you will I hear those words.”

     He held her for the longest time, staring
up at the dark ceiling, wondering what the future would hold for them both. He
knew they needed to get up and moving, but he simply could not bring himself to
break the spell. When Dustin fell asleep she began snoring softly, he listened
to her every breath as if it would sustain him. The depression he was
experiencing was overwhelming.

     Eventually he forced himself to rise,
donning his clothes. Darren had his armor and would soon be pounding on the
door of the antechamber, demanding to dress his liege. He glanced at Dustin,
reluctant to wake her, but knowing it was necessary. With a final loving gaze,
he roused his sleeping wife.

CHAPTER
THIRTY THREE

     Around midnight, Dustin and Deborah were
loaded onto their horses to begin the journey back to Lioncross. Temperatures
were well below freezing and a light snow was falling as Christopher and his
knights made sure the two armies were well prepared and organized.

     There would be two armies leaving Windsor
this night, over a thousand going with Christopher north to Nottingham and two
hundred going with Dustin to Lioncross. The massive outer courtyard was full of
soldiers and torches lit the area brightly. Dustin sat atop Hercules, watching
the goings-on solemnly, her eyes on Christopher as he moved like an efficient
war machine, completely competent in what he was doing as he put hundreds and
hundreds of people in order. He constantly amazed her with his perfection and
intelligence.

     Hercules stirred uneasily underneath her
and she comforted the big horse, knowing the cold was hard on his limbs as he
stood unmoving. Deborah was beside her on a pretty gray palfrey, while Harold,
Alexander and George rode in one of the wagons. Harold, however, broke free of
the confines of the cart and dashed across the compound to where Christopher
was giving orders. Dustin almost called to the dog but she saw Christopher lean
down and give the mutt a pat on the head, and she smiled. The Christopher that
had brought her to London months ago would have rather cut off his own hand
than pet a dog.

     Leeton came around loaded down with
traveling blankets, thick things that weighed a ton. He proceeded to wrap
Dustin in one of them, covering her completely from the waist down and covering
the majority of Hercules, as well. Even though Dustin was swathed in layers of
warm clothing, she was still glad for the protection. Deborah looked like a
swaddled baby when he got finished with her and Dustin giggled.

     The snow was falling harder now and hot
breath hung like fog in the still night air. The armies were now properly in
order and ready to move as the knights, their duties complete, began to mount
their destriers. Christopher was taking nearly 300 of Richard's loyal knights
with him and the sight of all those men in armor was truly a scene to behold.
Never had Dustin seen so many men dressed to the hilt for a battle and it was
an awesome experience. The power her husband held within the kingdom began to
take on new dimension. In her eyes, for she could not truly grasp the concept
until she saw the reality before her. And with the new respect came a new hope;
surely with all of these men protecting him, it was inevitable that Christopher
come home to her unscathed.

     Christopher moved back across the courtyard
toward his wife and her party with Harold scampering at his feet. His armor
acted like one giant block of ice with all of the snow coating it, yet he
wasn't cold. As was usual with him before a battle march, his energy was
flowing and he felt nothing but the power within him focusing on the fight
ahead. There was no one more singular-visioned in a battle than he, breathing
and eating war, but he found that the most unusual thing was happening to him;
he could not get his wife from his mind and he was constantly distracted by her
presence. He wanted to be with her so that he had to stop himself from rushing
through the necessary preparations and give them the full attention they
required. Distraction could be deadly in his profession.

     He approached his wife, his gaze
good-naturedly reproving.            “You are as big as that horse with all of
the material you are wearing.”

     “You made me wear all of this clothing.”
she shot back. “I can barely move with all of the weight.”

     He snorted. “You shall be grateful for the
weight and the warmth when the weather worsens, Lady de Lohr, and you shall
thank me.” He glanced at his sister, eye-level with him on her small palfrey.
“Are you sure you do not want to ride with Leeton? That little animal doesn't
look entirely hearty.”

     “She is quite hearty, I assure you,”
Deborah answered. “She has taken me many places without incident.”

     He frowned doubtfully but didn't argue.
Instead, he moved closer to Dustin. “Leeton has instructions to stop and allow
you two to rest come morning, but sleep no longer than a few hours. I want you
back within the safety of Lioncross as soon as possible.”

     She nodded, curling her gloved hand around
his great mailed one. “Why the urgency, Chris? We cannot even sleep the night
and leave when dawn breaks?” She nodded her head toward Deborah. “I worry for
her health; she is not as strong as you or I.”

     He raised an eyebrow, but she could feel
his hand gently squeezing her own. “You ask me that now? You have known for a
while now that you would be leaving come nightfall.”

     “I know, but the urgency to leave Windsor
seems to be gaining. It didn't seem quite so pressing this morning, even after
the earl attacked me.” She lowered her voice. “What is so wrong that we must
leave in the dead of night?”

     “I must leave tonight if I am to rendezvous
with John’s forces before he can reach Tickhill,” he said. “I will not leave
you here alone, even for a night. When I leave, you leave. Simple enough?”

     “Aye,” she nodded, feeling foolish to
question his wisdom. “When...when do you think you will be returning?”

     The pressure from his hand grew stronger.
“I know not, sweet love. Within a month, hopefully, but I cannot know.”

     She gave him a sad, resigned smile. “Spring
is coming. Lioncross is beautiful in spring.”

     “I look forward to it,” he said softly.
“And you.”

     “I can only pray that this ugly business is
over with quickly and you can return to me permanently,” she said. “Mayhap you
will dispose of John quickly enough that…”

     A shout cut her off. “Chris. We await you.”
David yelled.

     Christopher waved at his brother and turned
back to his wife. Dustin braced herself; the time had finally arrived and she
was trying hard to keep her promise and not cry, but gazing into his sky-blue
eyes forced sobs into her throat. When he smiled sweetly at her, she blinked
and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

     “No, Dustin, do not.” He reached up and
brushed the tears away. “No tears. I want to see you smile.”

     “I cannot.” she squeaked.

     He laughed softly and kissed her gloved
hand. “I shall return as soon as I can, I promise. Know that you mean the world
to me, wife. I shall always return to you.”

     She could only nod, afraid if she opened
her mouth she would start bawling like a baby. He tried to release her hand but
she held onto it tightly, her head bowed as she tried to compose herself.

     “It is time to leave, sweetheart,” he said
gently. “I have to go.”

     She nodded again, swallowing down all of
the tears and sadness she was feeling. “I know I just wanted to tell you…tell
you that I love you.”

     He winked at her and kissed her hand again,
pulling his fingers away more firmly this time and she had no choice but to let
him go.

     He took a couple of steps away and Harold
danced around him eagerly. He frowned at the dog.

     “Dustin, I cannot take this mongrel with
me,” he said sternly. “Control him, would you?”

     She sniffed, forcing herself to be brave as
she focused on the wriggling dog. “He wants to go with you. Why cannot you take
him?”

     He eyed her reproachfully. “Dogs do not go
into battle. Call him to you so that I might leave.”

     “Harold won't get in the way, Chris,” she
said. “You have been taking him to the practice field with you; he likes the
excitement of battle.”

     “Dustin, I will not be responsible for Hal
being gored on the battlefield,” he picked the chunky dog up and put him in
front of his wife. “Take him.”

     Dustin gripped the fat mutt in front of
her, struggling to hold him as he twisted and fought and eventually plunged
from the horse and raced back across the courtyard to where Christopher was
preparing to mount up. She saw her husband say something to the dog, point at
her, and then eventually give up when Harold refused to cooperate. He mounted
his steed and motioned to David, reining his horse in Dustin's direction as
David shouted orders.

     He thundered over to his wife as Harold
raced beside the animal, very careful of the hooves that were as big as he was.
Christopher swung past Leeton and relayed his orders, and immediately the
column of men was set in motion. Hercules lurched forward as Christopher reined
his destrier beside her.

     Dustin didn't say anything, content to gaze
at his powerful face. His eyes roved over the two moving armies, scrutinizing
every man and bellowing to his officers when he detected an anomaly. Although
they had just begun to move, she could tell by his manner that for all
purposes, he was already at war.

     It made an awesome sight, over a thousand
soldiers moving out in the falling snow, countless torches lighting their way.
The courtyard was alive with dancing shadows and shouting men as the rhythm of
the march was picked up, armor and swords jingling in synchronization.

     Dustin was very warm in spite of the
freezing temperatures, actually feeling some of the excitement that was in the
air. And it was excitement, not fear or apprehension as she would have expected
on a battle march. These men were seasoned, trained soldiers, preparing to do
Richard's work by defending him against his raging brother. The confidence she
sensed around her served to boost her failing spirit and she knew these men
gained their assurance from her husband. She gazed at him, pride filling her.

     He sensed her eyes on him and turned to
her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

     She shook her head, a faint smile on her
lips. “No reason, husband. Am I not allowed to look at you whenever I please?”

     “You are, provided that you tell me why you
are smiling,” he answered.

     Her smile twisted with mock irritation.
“Did you tell me not five minutes ago that you wanted to see me smile? Now I am
smiling and you demand to know why.”

     He snickered and shook his head, glancing off
in the direction of a particularly loud shout before returning to his wife.
Even then, he would only smile slyly at her.

     Dustin liked his smile, it was flirtatious
and she responded with a coy look of her own. Their separation was a mere
minutes away, but she wasn't thinking on it. She was enjoying his mood.

     “How's your horse handling these days?” she
asked.

     He cuffed the horse affectionately on the
neck. “He is doing much better. I think he will do very well on this campaign.”

     “What did you finally decide to name him?”
she inquired.

     He shrugged. “I have been calling him
‘horse.’ His trainer called him Brutus, a name I detest. “You are good with
names, think of one.”

     She looked closely at the animal, a
magnificent silver dapple with a salt-and-pepper mane. “You were so intent on
naming a son of ours Arthur. Why not name your horse Arthur?”

     “Your father would rise from the grave if I
named a horse after him,” Christopher snorted. “Ah, well, think of a name while
I am gone.”

     Dustin's party passed under the portcullis
first, and Christopher with them. When the entire column of troops had passed
onto the road and turned northwest, Christopher took hold of Hercules’ reins
and pulled his wife from the procession, waiting until it passed by them
completely before speaking. Behind them, his massive army was passing through
the gate and turning due north.