Silversword (de Lohr Dynasty Book 7) (5 page)

Bose grinned wearily. “And the sister?” he asked. “Have you ever met her?”

Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he said. Then, he eyed Bose. “But after what you have just told me, I will soon enough.”

Bose clapped the man on the shoulder. “Godspeed, then,” he said. “I ride to Isenhall. Send me word when you can about the girl. Gallus and his brothers will want to know.”

“Make sure they understand that we will protect the girl with our lives. She will be safe.”

Bose nodded. “I know they will be grateful.”

The mission was set now; there was no turning back. Chad wouldn’t even if he could. He took a last drag on a cup of ale when he knew he shouldn’t. He found that he needed it. So much for relaxation; he was heading back into the fray, possibly worse than before, going to save a girl from Henry’s clutches. He couldn’t believe he found himself in this position. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to. Better to get the girl, take her to his father, and then be done with it. She would be his father’s problem after that.

Without another word, he and Bose parted ways. Bose and his son headed from the front of the tavern while Chad went through the back, drunkenly weaving his way out into the kitchen yard beyond even though he was trying very hard to pretend he was sober. Across a small avenue was the livery stable where the warhorses had been lodged and he found his men there, cleaning hooves and brushing down the horses, making sure they were prepared for the trip ahead.

They didn’t dwell overlong on the preparations, however, knowing it was essential they beat Henry’s men to the priory. The horses were hastily groomed and saddled, and while Davyss and Hugh headed for the outskirts of London to Wintercroft Castle where their wives were in residence, Chad and his brothers and cousins and knights headed southeast towards Kent where the Newington Priory had just become a very popular destination for Henry as well as for those who opposed him.

Not that the de Lohrs opposed him yet, technically, but with this latest development, every man wondered if that wasn’t where the situation was heading.

Would they soon be at odds with the very king they had rescued from de Montfort, a man they were sworn to obey?

That was the question that no one seemed to have an answer to.

CHAPTER TWO

A
lessandria hadn’t been
out of Newington Priory for six years, not since she had been sent there by her father because she had been fairly incorrigible at Orford Castle where she had been fostering. It wasn’t so much that she had been incorrigible as it was that she and the lord’s wife didn’t get along. The woman seemed to hold a grudge against Alessandria, being a beautiful girl, because the Lady of Orford’s daughter was plain and homely, with a mean streak in her, and Alessandria and the daughter would get into scrapes constantly. Alessandria didn’t take kindly to bullying.

But that wasn’t the story that got back to Julius de Shera. The story he heard was that his daughter was terrible and nasty, and in need of discipline, so without even speaking with her to get the truth behind the complaints, he sent her to Newington Priory where the nuns could see to her discipline. Julius had hoped a holy beating or two might help his daughter mend her ways. More than that, he simply didn’t want to be bothered with her.

But quite the opposite happened at Newington Priory – without the constant taunting, Alessandria settled into Newington very nicely. She was obedient to the nuns because they treated her with surprising respect and she found that priory life suited her well. She even made new friends there, girls that had been her friends for the past six years. She considered Newington her home and dreaded the day when her father would send word to either recall her back to The Paladin, her family’s home, or notify her that she had been betrothed to some lord she’d never even heard of. Either way, Alessandria knew she didn’t want to do either. She wanted to remain at Newington and become a nun. They had, in fact, been some of the only people who had ever been kind to her.

Therefore, the appearance of eight hulking knights demanding that she accompany them had come as something of a horrifying shock. She’d never even really been around men, and especially not for the past several years, and the fact that she found herself on the front of a charger as they raced through the black night was utterly terrifying. She understood that there was some threat and hazard afoot, from the king no less, but she still wanted to go home. She didn’t want to go wherever these men were taking her.

Yet, they’d made it clear she had no choice. They’d swept her from the priory and out into the blackness, so black that she could hardly see a hand before her face. There were men with torches up ahead, trying to light the path, but it was dangerous going as they tried to keep pace, to stay one step ahead of men they had said were coming for her. What if, in fact,
they
were Henry’s men? What if they had lied to the prioress about everything?

Then she was in a good deal of trouble.

Alessandria came from a long line of powerful men and strong women. She wasn’t a tall girl, or even very big for that matter, but she was strong in both mind and body. She wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself, to defend herself if necessary, as Lady Orford and her stupid daughter had discovered.

Truth be told, she had been shocked and overwhelmed when the knights had come to Newington and she had allowed them to take her without a fight. Now, that shock was wearing off and she was coming to feel quite threatened by these men. As they charged through the dark night, she gripped the saddle and struggled not to fall off.

“Where in Canterbury are you taking me?” she yelled to Chad, seated behind her with his big arm wrapped around her waist to keep her from slipping. “I heard you speak of your father?”

Chad’s visor was up as they charged through the night. He couldn’t see very well with it down and he was quite concerned with the night traveling they were doing, for many reasons.

“Be silent,” he commanded sharply. “Your voice carries.”

Alessandria didn’t like the tone of his voice. He sounded angry and evil. She was starting to think that perhaps she shouldn’t show any resistance, not now when he had seven men and two dozen soldiers at his disposal, men who could easily force her into submission, or worse. Perhaps it would be foolish of her to do anything other than what she was told, at least for the time being. But she would never give up hope that there would be an opportunity for her to escape.

So she shut her mouth, holding fast to the galloping horse and praying she wouldn’t fall to her death. If she fell, the horses behind would surely trample her and she wasn’t ready yet to die in any case.

At some point in their harried flight, men in torches broke off from the main body of men and disappeared to the north, taking a smaller road and heading into a thick cluster of what seemed to be trees. Truth be told, Alessandria couldn’t really tell because it was so dark but she thought she saw the outline of trees against the blanket of stars and she could see the torches flitting in and out of sight, fading away as they went.

After that, the group seemed to ride faster. There was already a sense of urgency but it seemed to increase. They moved as fast as they could along the road, which wasn’t very well maintained, and the horses were tripping and struggling on the uneven ground. One horse even pulled up lame at one point, which wasn’t unexpected, and the rider of the horse, a soldier, was told to remain behind with his horse and seek shelter until the morning. Another soldier remained with him and they slipped away with the limping horse.

It seemed like an endless journey at this point. Alessandria had no idea how long they had been traveling because she’d lost all track of time. It could have been ten minutes; it could have been forever. It was difficult to gauge. But that sense of uncertainty eased when the moon began to peek up over the horizon and there was a tiny bit of light now for them to see by. It made all of the difference in the world.

Onward they went, now with more confidence, but it was nearing the dead of night as they reached an enormously swollen body of water. Everything before them seemed to be flooded, the sounds of water swirling in the darkness. Behind her, Alessandra could hear Chad sigh.

“Damnation,” he hissed. “Boughton Creek is overflowing its banks. This is an unexpected bit of nonsense.”

There were knights swarming around him on excited horses. “Is there any way around this?” someone asked.

Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “We must cross this. There is no other way.”

That seemed to concern the group a great deal. “Then we have no choice,” one very big knight said. He had a crossbow in his right hand, controlling his horse with his left. “You called this creek by name, Chad. How close are we to Canterbury?”

Chad turned to look behind them, concerned with what might be coming up from the rear. “Not far,” he said, returning his focus to the dark water. “Another half an hour at the very most. But we must get across this creek.”

“You seem worried.”

Chad nodded. “This creek comes from the sea,” he said. “It is not far to the north of us. It can be deep in places and the mud is like glue. There is, in fact, another road, but it is fairly far to the south. We may not have the time to….”

“Chad!” Someone shouted his name. “Riders!”

The knights all whirled around, weapons at the ready, seeing two lonely torches approach at a distance. Since Chad had sent out two riders, he wasn’t particularly concerned with whoever approached, but he was suddenly very concerned when, far in the distance, they began to see more pinpricks of light. They were very faint, but it was clear that they were moving. He pointed.

“Look,” he said to his men. “Our scouts are being pursued.”

The knights around him began to hiss. The one with the crossbow spoke. “Do we try to go around this watery mess, then?” he asked. “Can we do it in time?”

Chad knew this land. He’d spent many years here as a small boy. It was marshy land at best because of its proximity to the sea. “I fear we may get into more trouble if we act in haste,” he said. “There are swamps about here and if we get stuck in one, we will be finished. Unfortunately, our best option is to cross the swollen creek at this point and pray we can make it. I will go first; follow me in a line and do not stray.”

The knight with the crossbow rallied the others and, soon, they were crossing in a single-file line across the swollen creek. They were trying to move quickly but not foolishly, so Chad kept a steady pace. On they went, watching the water and mud rise to the knees of the horses, going deeper and deeper, but still Chad went forward. The creek usually wasn’t very wide and he, through the darkness, could see dry land on the other side, about a dozen feet away. It gave him something to aim for.

But it would get worse before it got better. The closer they drew to the opposite shore, however, the more the horses seemed to be sinking. A couple of the animals towards the back of the line seemed to be panicking a bit and the knights astride them were struggling to keep them under control. Chad didn’t look back to see how close the pursuing riders were; it didn’t matter much at that point how close they were so he kept his gaze forward, his manner calm, as he directed his horse further and further into the water.

There was a definite current around them as they drew closer to the dry land, sweeping past them, washing away into the dark night. It was quite unnerving but the men kept their heads, knowing they had no choice if they were going to live through this. Chad, in particular, kept his head. The man had nerves of steel as Alessandria, in his lap, simply closed her eyes and held on. She couldn’t swim and the water swirling around them was terrifying her, but she kept her composure. But the eyes stayed closed; it was better for them all if she couldn’t see what was going on.

Suddenly, Chad’s horse seemed to come into contact with firm ground beneath the water and the horse, eager to be free of the muck, jumped to get out of it and onto the firmer soil ahead. Chad was semi-prepared for the horse’s movements but Alessandria, only holding on by the horn of the saddle, lost her grip. Chad was trying to keep his seat as his horse jumped not once, but twice, and on the second jump, he lost his grip on Alessandria and she went flying off of the horse and into the dark, swirling water around them.

Immediately, she was swept downstream and she screamed in terror, her head barely above the water. Without a second thought, Chad jumped in after her.

Unfortunately, he was in all of his heavy clothing – chain mail, leather breeches, boots, and at least three tunics. It was weighty, worse still with the water, and even as strong as he was, he couldn’t swim very well in all of that gear. He also couldn’t take the time to remove it because he saw Alessandria’s head go under the water and then bob back up again. She was screaming at the top of her lungs.

So he struggled after her, realizing that the water wasn’t all that deep but it was moving swiftly. Therefore, he began to half-run and half-swim, using the current to his advantage, closing the gap between him and the lady who was being swept just out of his reach. He reached out, almost managed to grab her, when her head went under again. Blindly, he began grabbing at anything he could in the water, hoping to come across an arm or a head. He ended up grabbing her hair and with a big yank, pulled her up to the surface.