Silversword (de Lohr Dynasty Book 7) (32 page)

Davyss sensed the man’s sympathy at that point but he still couldn’t give in to it and trust him completely. It was better if he didn’t. “I understand,” he said. “But what I do not understand is why you would betray Henry by sending word to Isenhall of his approach.”

De Serreaux shrugged. “Because above all else, I am a man of honor,” he said simply. “What Henry is doing is not honorable. It is fed by madness and I do not want to see good and noble men consumed by it. That is the best way I can explain it. As I said, Henry does not know of the missive to Isenhall so I would be appreciative if you did not tell him.”

In that small request, Davyss began to understand something; de Serreaux had risked himself for the opposition. For men he considered honorable even if they were on the opposing side. He was asking Davyss to keep that confidence, and Davyss intended to. More than that, it was enough to cause Davyss to finally believe that de Serreaux might actually be telling the truth. He had known de Serreaux for years and he was a man of his word. It was enough to lower Davyss’ guard somewhat.

“You have my oath that I will not mention it,” he muttered, “but I hope it does not come down to me fighting against you in battle. I should not look forward to that.”

De Serreaux’s gaze lingered on him. “It is quite possible that I would not let that happen,” he said, turning for Henry’s tent in the distance. “It is quite possible that I would rather stand by men of honor than by a king of madness.”

With that, he walked off, leaving Davyss and Hugh staring at each other in surprise. Was it possible that de Serreaux, leader of Henry’s Six, would turn on his king? Or was the man simply saying such things to gain their confidence only to betray them? Perhaps Davyss didn’t have as much trust in the man as he thought he had.

In this world, anything was possible.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The outskirts of Coventry

H
enry is here.

At least, that’s what Curtis’ breathless scouts had told him. The king, escorted by the de Winter army, had been seen north of Northampton, camping peacefully in the night, but it was clear that they would be at Isenhall on the morrow.

That fact made Curtis move his army when they should be sleeping.

Up until that point, his pace from Lioncross had been relatively leisurely. But that was no more. He wasn’t going to wait until morning to get to Isenhall given that Henry was already extremely close. He had to make it to the fortress before Henry did, so his sons and knights pushed the army through the darkness, through the last few miles under a silver moon and a brilliant blanket of stars tossed across the cold night sky. The men weren’t particularly weary, as it had only been a few days of travel from Lioncross Abbey, so no one particularly minded traveling on a pleasant night. Some of the men had even taken up singing to pass the time, trudging down the road, catching whiffs of the stinky bog to the southwest.

Curtis traveled towards the middle of the fifteen-hundred-man army, allowing Chris and Arthur and William command of the men for the most part. He could hear Chris up ahead, bellowing orders, and Curtis had to smile at a son who reminded him so much of his own father. Over the years, men had come to call him Christopher the Lesser so that he would not be so confused with his grandfather, a title that Chris didn’t much like. He felt that it implied that he was less of a man than his grandfather was, which he surely was not. He was every bit the man his grandfather had been.

It was comforting to hear the voice, to see the man move among the army with such confidence. Somehow, it made Curtis miss his father less when he saw his son moving and acting like him. Curtis still remembered the fresh sorrow from the day his father passed away, a very old man, so his death had not been completely unexpected. It had simply been unwanted.

But it was a tender sense of reflection that Curtis had even now as he watched his sons, typical de Lohr men in the sense of command and size and sheer presence. Men that were all, to varying degrees, like his father. Curtis had continued the de Lohr legacy with his large stable of children and grandchildren, and he knew that when the time came that Chris would make an excellent Earl of Worcester. He was confident in the legacy he would leave behind.

He knew his father would have been pleased.

But this march to Isenhall was something of a threat to that legacy. With Henry’s behavior unsteady in the wake of Evesham, there was no telling how the man would react to seeing the de Lohr army spread around Isenhall like a shield, but Curtis had to make that statement to the crown. He fully intended to speak with Henry about the situation and make it clear to the man that if push came to shove, the House of de Lohr would support the House of de Shera.

Yet, in accordance with his conversation with Avrielle, he would also speak to Gallus to try to convince the man to swallow his pride and swear fealty to the king. For the survival of the House of de Shera, and essentially the survival of them all, Gallus had to understand the necessity of it. Curtis could only pray Gallus would. Having descended from the House of de Lohr on his mother’s side, Gallus had that stubborn streak in him that all de Lohr males had.

The knowledge that they knew they were right, no matter what the circumstance.

Lost in thought, he was startled when the cry went up through the ranks that Isenhall had been sighted. Driving his spurs into the flanks of his great red steed, he charged forward, through the ranks of men, to the front of the column where his sons were gathered. They were pointing at something in the distance, having come around a bend in the road, and a great flat expanse of land was set before them.

Even in the darkness they could see Isenhall in the distance, with her dark walls and flickering points of light as men with torches manned the battlements. Chris immediately sent two messengers ahead to announce their arrival so that Gallus and his brothers wouldn’t panic and launch an offensive against them in the darkness. Hearing the thunder of a horse’s movement beside him, he turned to his father just as the man rode up.

“I will make sure Gallus knows it is us who approach,” Chris said, indicating the messengers that were riding on ahead. “I do not want to have a rain of arrows greet us as we approach.”

Curtis nodded, trying to peer through the darkness to see what was ahead. His eyesight had been failing as of late, attributed to age, and it was particularly difficult for him to see in the darkness. With the messengers heading into the distance, he motioned to Chris to come closer. The man did and Curtis pulled him aside, reining their horses off the road as the army passed them by.

They came to a pause in the heavy grass, watching the army lumber by. Curtis turned his horse so that his words would not be heard by the men.

“I have been thinking,” he said to his son. “As much as I want Gallus and Max and Ty to know that we have arrived, I also want Henry to know it. The scouts tell us that Henry is camping just outside of Northampton.”

“I heard.”

“Henry will be here on the morrow.”

“Aye, he will.”

Curtis shook his head. “You will send a messenger to Henry this night with a message from me,” he said firmly. “I want to see Henry before this gets out of hand. I want to talk to the man to see what his mindset is. I have been hearing rumors and hearsay about his state of mind and his objectives, but I want to hear it from him. Furthermore, if he is truly determined to attack Isenhall, then he must know we will not stand by and watch this happen. I have told you this before, Chris, on the day we departed from Lioncross; Henry must know we will not stand by while he attacks our kin. I certainly will not support him in such a move. So if he decides to attack, he must know that I will do everything I can to defend Isenhall.”

Chris nodded in understanding. “I know, Papa,” he said. “Rather than send a messenger, however, let me send Arthur or William. He will take the message more seriously if a de Lohr delivers it.”

Curtis thought on that. “It is a good suggestion,” he said. “Tell Henry I will meet him before dawn at St. Mary’s Cathedral. We can pray for a solution to this problem. We can pray that we will all remain friends when it is over.”

Chris nodded sharply to the command. “Aye,” he said. “I will send Arthur. He has a more pleasing manner than William does. Willie can be a bit intimidating at times.”

“We do not want to intimidate Henry.”

“Nay, we do not. He would not take kindly to it and I do not want to be attacking Henry’s army to wrest my hostage brother away from him.”

Curtis snorted at the thought. “Willie in chains,” he said. “What an image that would be.”

Chris was smiling because his father was. “Willie would not think so.”

Curtis roared with laughter. “Then send Arthur,” he said. “Tell the man to use his best diplomacy. He has more of my father’s ability to negotiate.”

“And Willie inherited Grandmother’s demeanor.”

Curtis was back to snorting. “My mother was a fierce and passionate woman,” he said. “But her idea of diplomacy was a fist to the eye.”

“That is Willie’s idea as well.”

Curtis’ chortling lingered. “I know,” he said, sobering. “Therefore, send Arthur on his way. Meanwhile, I am going to speak with Gallus about this and see if we cannot come to a solution that does not involve men dying and a castle being razed. You know I love your cousin, Chris, but Gallus has that de Lohr stubborn streak in him. I hope I can convince him otherwise because, quite honestly, I do not want to have to go the rest of my life protecting him and his brothers from the crown. That will put us in a very bad position, not to mention it will be most tiresome.”

Chris understood. “Agreed,” he said. “I will go find Arthur and tell him of his mission. Will you ride ahead now to Isenhall?”

Curtis nodded. “I am on my way.”

With that, he spurred his fat beast back onto the road, pushing men aside as he moved through the troops, heading for the distant bastion. He had a great task ahead of him this night and he would waste no time getting it done.

For the old knight from a very old and distinguished family, he was being called into action one last time to try to prevent a situation that could have far-reaching implications for many people – the Houses of de Lohr, de Winter, de Shera, and de Moray. The great houses who were also great friends, blood and friendship intertwined until it was all one big family. There were no more divisions except one – Henry.

He could destroy it all. Or he could destroy himself if he tried.

Curtis had to do all he could to ensure that didn’t happen.

*

Even though Isenhall’s
keep was a large place with four floors and an abundance of chambers, it still wasn’t difficult to hear others when they spoke, especially if voices were raised. As Alessandria sat in her small borrowed chamber on the top floor of the keep where most of the children slept, she could hear Jeniver’s voice on the floor below as it wafted up the stairwell. Something very bad was happening and Alessandria could hear nearly all of it.

She had no idea where Lady Courtly or Lady Douglass were. She never did hear their voices in all of this. At this late hour, everyone should have been asleep and would have been had Chad’s cousin, Curtis de Lohr, not arrived in the early evening with his army in tow. A very large army that, even now, was making camp all around the walls of Isenhall, encircling it like a protective web. With Henry approaching, it was clear that Curtis was taking a stand on behalf of Isenhall but he made sure Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius knew his opinion on the matter first.

It was an arrival that had prevented Chad from taking Alessandria into Coventry to marry her. Those plans had been pushed aside for the moment. As the women had listened from the stairwell near the small feasting chamber on the entry level where most of the business of Isenhall was conducted, Curtis had made it very clear to the brothers, as well as to Chad and Bose, that he felt Gallus’ continued resistance to Henry was a lost cause. De Montfort was dead and so was the man’s rebellion, and Curtis implored Gallus and his brothers to reconsider their collective stance. There were families at stake here, families that could not survive if the de Shera brothers perished in a foolish stance for a man who had been brutally killed at Evesham.