Silversword (de Lohr Dynasty Book 7) (13 page)

His bladder was killing him, preventing him from falling back asleep. He tried to lift his head but it felt as if it weighed one hundred pounds. It was swimming and heavy and throbbing, all at the same time. He could hardly keep his eyes open. He looked around; he was still in the smaller hall only now it was empty except for his men.

Torran rubbed his eyes; he could see de Garr sleeping on the table next to him and the others – de Leybourne, d’Vant, de Poyer, and St. John were in various positions around the room. De Leybourne was actually lying on the floor next to the hearth, surrounded by sleeping dogs, while d’Vant was in an upright position against the wall, seated on the floor near the hearth, and snoring his head off. St. John and de Poyer were sleeping on the benches next to the feasting table, arms hanging onto the ground.

All of them, sleeping like the dead. Torran had never seen his men sleep so heavily. Struggling against the urge to ignore his bladder and go back to sleep, he pushed himself off of the tabletop and, seeing the spot on the wood where he had drooled, he wiped at his face as he stumbled over to the hearth.

The fire was still blazing, still quite healthy, and he fumbled with his breeches, pulling them low enough so that he could expose his manhood. So he stood there, pissing into the fire, feeling a huge amount of release and struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head. He actually had to reach out and support himself against the mantel, positive he needed the support to stand. Never in his life had he been so tired. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

But he wanted a proper bed. He was sure that de Lohr had spare beds for them, somewhere, so he pulled his breeches back up, fastened them, and stumbled over to the hall entry. The solar was just across the foyer and the keep entry was to his right. The door was open, in fact. As Torran staggered across the foyer, heading for the solar in the hope of finding Lord Daniel there, he caught movement in the bailey beyond the open door.

The movement brought him to a halt. It was still light outside, so he hadn’t been asleep too long, and in the bailey beyond the keep entry, he could see several men standing outside, including Chad de Lohr. The man was dressed in armor and his horse was with him, a big white thing with a fat arse, fully loaded with tack and saddlebags. Torran had seen that horse enough during Evesham and previous battles, enough to know it on sight.

It was a curious sight down in the bailey but not a concerning one. Torran had no reason to be concerned at all, but he did think that, perhaps, Lord Daniel was in the bailey because so many of his sons and men were, so he staggered over to the door, leaning against the stone, trying to shake off the extreme grogginess as he searched for Lord Daniel.

Finally, he spied the man as he emerged from a single-storied structure that was situated across from the keep, built up against the outer wall of Canterbury. Daniel was pointing to Chad, or at least beyond the man, and Torran noticed the younger de Lohr brother, Perrin, walking up with a long-legged mare. That horse, too, was fully tacked with a saddle and bridle and what looked like a traveling satchel strapped to it.

Still, Torran wasn’t concerned with anything. He had no idea what was going on out there and, frankly, because of his overwhelming exhaustion, he didn’t particularly care. All he wanted was a bed to sleep on and not a table. But that all quickly changed when he saw Lady de Lohr and her daughter emerge from the one-storied building with a small, feminine figure between them. Daniel went to take the figure’s arm, leading her towards the long-legged mare that had been brought to stand beside Chad’s horse. It was clear that the woman was meant to ride the horse and, already, Chad was mounting his.

In that instant, Torran knew what he was seeing and instead of rushing out to prevent Chad from taking the de Shera woman out of Canterbury, which was clearly the plan, he rushed back into the small hall as fast as his wobbly legs would take him. Shouts and shoves began to rouse his men, who were even slower to stir than he had been. Only d’Vant seemed able to get to his feet; everyone else was fumbling about, useless.

Snatching his sword, Torran barked at his men to follow him out into the bailey of Canterbury.

*

The horses were
prepared and so was Alessandria.

At least, that’s what Chad had been told. His mother had sent him word to make sure the horses were ready and that was exactly what he had done. His brothers had helped, however, giving him time to don his mail and prepare his equipment, but that hadn’t taken much time considering he hadn’t even unpacked since his arrival. In fact, his possessions were still in the stables, having been removed from his horse by the grooms, and they were still in a neat bundle just inside the door. That also included his precious broadsword.

Therefore, it had been a simple thing for Chad to pack his belongings back onto his horse and prepare himself for the ride to Isenhall. He finished securing the broadsword, the silver sword that David de Lohr had given to him right before he passed away, looking at the craftsmanship of the hilt.

He smiled faintly, running a finger over it, remembering that David had commissioned it from a local Canterbury blacksmith and had practically hovered over the man during the process of creating it. At least, that was how Chad’s grandmother, Emilie, told the story. David had insisted he’d done nothing of the kind but Chad tended to believe his grandmother. David de Lohr, if nothing else, had been a determined and exacting man, especially when it came to the production of a weapon for his eldest grandson.

Chad’s memories lingered on his grandfather. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of the man somehow. David had lived to Chad’s twenty-second year, but he hadn’t been particularly healthy for the last twenty years of his life. He’d had breathing problems, and finally heart problems, and the physic had instructed him to rest frequently but David never would. He was under the belief that any show of weakness or illness in front of his wife upset her, so he pretended he felt fine until one morning, he simply didn’t wake up at all.

David’s wife, Emilie, had found him cold in his bed with a faint smile on his lips, having passed peacefully away sometime during the night. The great David de Lohr who, in his prime, had inarguably been the finest swordsman in all of England hadn’t died on the field of battle in a flurry of blood and glory. He had died in his bed, a very old and very happy man.

To his wife, that had been a fitting end to his magnificent legacy and Emilie was quite positive that the smile was because, the moment he passed from life, David had been welcomed by his brother. David had never emotionally recovered from Christopher’s death eleven years earlier so she had comforted herself with the knowledge that he was with his brother once again. It was a thought that brought comfort to the entire family.

The de Lohr brothers were together once more.

Chad remembered the day his father had come to Lioncross Abbey, where he had been serving, bearing the unhappy news. Daniel had escorted his father’s casket all the way to Lioncross Abbey so that David could be buried next to his brother’s crypt in the abbey’s small chapel. Emilie had had accompanied her husband’s body, also, and one of the saddest sights Chad had ever seen was watching his grandmother and his Uncle Christopher’s wife, Dustin, kneel at the foot of the crypts of the great men they loved and hold hands as they prayed.

The two women who had married two of the most powerful knights in the realm looked small and old and fragile, but the truth was that they were stronger than any of the men in that entire room. It was their love for Christopher and David that had made them strong, something that continued on until two years ago when they lost first Dustin and then Emilie within three months of each other. It had been a terrible blow to the family but the women had each been buried in their husband’s respective crypts, finally with the men they loved for all eternity.

Their beautiful love stories had passed into legend.

Chad’s smile faded as he remembered the tears he’d shed for his grandfather and grandmother. He hadn’t been ready to let them go yet, still seeing them through the eyes of a child who believed they would live forever. But the tears he shed had been in private, for he had to be strong for his father, who was truly devastated by his father’s passing. Something about missing “the Daniel veins” that would pop out on David’s temples, but Chad never fully understood that joke, which seemed to be something only David and Daniel understood. All Chad knew was that the entire family had been devastated by the passing of Christopher and David de Lohr, and then Dustin and Emilie, but the sword that David had given Chad was a link to his grandfather like nothing else ever could have been.

The silver sword.

Chad had forced himself from those reflections when Daniel had entered the stable, eager for his son to collect the lady and get started on the road to Isenhall. Perrin accompanied his father and when Daniel and Chad left the stable, Perrin was in charge of preparing a suitable mare for the lady.

As Daniel and Chad had headed across the bailey towards the knight quarters, Daniel had given Chad some last minute instructions.

“It will take you at least seven days to reach Coventry and Isenhall,” he had said, “six days if you move swiftly. The rains have been heavy to the north, so I have heard, so your travel may not be as quick as we had hoped.”

Chad understood. “Evesham came between storms, fortunately,” he’d said. “But riding to Coventry and the Marches may be different. The lady and I will do well enough.”

Daniel’s brother, Stefan, and his cousins had been gathering in the bailey near the knight quarters, waiting to see Chad and the lady off. De Russe and du Bois were not there, instead, they were inside the knight quarters, still providing the lady with protection should Henry’s men decide to make a break for the structure and try to drag the lady away.

But that was impossible in any case because Henry’s Six were passed out like drunkards all over the small hall. The poppy potion had worked wonders so no one felt a huge sense of urgency, but there was no leisure mood, either. It was time to see the task well on its way.

As they neared the knight quarter, Daniel broke away from his son and moved swiftly into the structure to ensure that the lady was ready for her trip. Chad watched his father go before coming to a halt beside Chris and Stefan, engaging in small talk while Daniel went to fetch the lady.

For some odd reason, Chad was coming to feel edgy now and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Henry’s Six would sleep for a day, his mother had said. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, for he did, but he knew from experience that even the best laid plans could be thwarted by something unexpected. He glanced at the keep once, twice, as Stefan spoke beside him.

“Father is going to be truthful with de Serreaux when the man awakens,” he said. “If they want the lady, they’ll have to move on to Coventry, but Father intends to keep Henry’s Six here as long as he can. That should buy you at least a day and a half, if not more.”

Chad couldn’t explain his sense of uneasiness now. He found that he was quite eager for his father to emerge from the knight quarters with the lady. “Providing the weather and the roads hold,” he said. “I will certainly make every effort to reach Isenhall before the Six catch up with me.”

“What do you plan to do once you have delivered the lady over to Gallus and his brothers?” Chris wanted to know. He had been standing close enough to hear. “I told Uncle Daniel that we should ride with you to Isenhall but he seems to think you will travel faster with just the two of you. What are you going to do once you reach Isenhall?”

Chad shrugged. “Make sure the Lords of Thunder are not in need of me, I suppose,” he said. “I would expect they will not require my services so it is my sense that I will be heading for home fairly quickly. When are you and your brothers leaving for Lioncross?”

Daniel emerged from the knight quarters at that point, shouting out to Perrin, who was just coming around with the lady’s mare. Chris watched his uncle and cousin a moment before returning his focus to Chad.

“Right after you leave, I am sure,” he said. “I think Uncle Daniel wants us to remain here to see what the Six will do when they are told that you and the lady have left for Isenhall. I do not know if Uncle Daniel is expecting trouble, but we will wait and see.”

Chad was satisfied with the plan. In fact, he was glad his cousins were remaining to ensure that de Serreaux and his men didn’t turn violent when they were told the lady had slipped through their fingers yet again. When obedient knights were carrying out the orders of the king, there was no telling how they would react, which only increased Chad’s sense of unease. He very much wanted to depart as quickly as possible now. The sooner they were away from Canterbury, the better. Impatient, he struggled not to appear so.

But his impatience didn’t last long. His mother, his sister, and Alessandria suddenly emerged from the knight quarters with de Russe and du Bois behind them, and Chad felt a sense of relief at the sight of her. That, and a distinct sense of pleasure; she was wearing a traveling outfit of dark green wool, durable and well made, clinging to a figure he didn’t know she had. Though petite, she had a narrow waist and flaring hips, quite alluring and shapely. In fact, he was rather shocked to realize she not only had an exquisite face but a body to match. Through the wet wool and darkness of their travels, he’d never had the chance to notice.