Swords and Shields (Reign of the House of de Winter) (16 page)

De Bretagne grinned. “Nor do I,” he said. “It is an impressive complex, Drake. Congratulations.”

Drake gave the man a half-grin as de Lohr spoke. “De Witt does not seem too terribly upset to have lost his command,” he commented. “In fact, he seems quite amiable about it. I am not entirely sure I would be so amiable.”

The attention of the men shifted to the knight whose place Drake was usurping. “There is naught he can do,” Drake said. “Orders come from Edward himself and this is Edward’s holding. He cannot resist the change of command.”

James wasn’t entirely convinced. “It still seems too easy to me, Drake,” he said. “Be cautious, at least until you come to know him better. Better not to trust the man too soon.”

James wasn’t one to raise a needless alarm and he had the great sense of his powerful de Lohr forefathers; therefore, his admonition was not taken lightly. Still, Drake put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“You are an old woman, James,” he teased. “But I respect your wisdom. I will be prudent.”

Behind them, Cortez yawned and stretched, weary from their ride that morning from Thetford. His attention moved over the small hall that could probably only hold one hundred men at any given time. It had a large hearth, now cold and sooty, and six long, thin lancet windows near the top of the walls for ventilation. The steeply angled roof above was thatched and chaff floated down now and again, mixing with the dirt and dogs on the floor.

“When did you say Edward’s men were to arrive, Drake?” Cortez asked as he studied the pitched ceiling above.

Drake instinctively looked up to see what had Cortez’s attention. “When last I spoke to him in July, he said he would be sending them around the first of October,” he replied. “That should be in a week or two, I would assume. Why?”

Cortez was still looking at the ceiling because he noticed cats walking along the rafters. “Because I thought to stay until the men arrive but I do not think I can be gone so long from my own responsibilities,” he said, turning to look at Drake. “Diamantha is pregnant, you know. I want to be home when the child is born.”

Drake smiled faintly. “He is not due until Christmastime, as I recall.”

Cortez nodded. “That is true,” he said. “But I would still like to return home as soon as possible. You understand.”

Drake nodded firmly. “Of course I do,” he said. “You may leave whenever you wish. Will you take James with you?”

“I will.”

“Then Devon and I can manage.”

As Drake and Cortez and, finally, Devon began speaking of Cortez and James’ return to Sherborne Castle, James wandered around the hall, inspecting the big hearth, eyeing the very big dogs that were laying by it, before meandering his way over to the entry.

The bailey was beyond and he could see Drake’s men settling in on the west side of the wall that butted up against the church. Wagons were being organized and shelters were being raised. But from his position at the door, he could also see de Witt and his men over near the stables to the north where there were also some outbuildings, presumably to house the soldiers. He could see de Witt’s men gathered and then moving as a group in the direction of the keep.

Glints of metal caught James’ eye. It seemed odd and out of place so James peered closer, abruptly realizing that de Witt and his men were carrying weapons. In fact, they were all quite heavily armed. Shocked, he whirled to Drake and the others.

“Quickly,” he snapped. “De Witt’s men have armed themselves. Move quickly!”

Startled, Drake, Devon, and Cortez bolted to the door in time to see de Witt and his men rounding the keep and heading for Drake’s men as they set up their encampment. Drake could hardly believe what he was seeing but in that moment of utter disbelief, James’ words came back to him.

Be cautious….

Evidently, James had sensed something the rest of them had not. Drake and the others were flying from the hall as fast as their legs would carry them, running for the battle that they could see unfolding. Running for the ambush that was about to take place.

Evidently, de Witt wasn’t as amiable as they had thought.

Elizaveta could hardly believe what she was seeing.

Suddenly, Lady de Witt was in her midst and aiming a very large knife straight at her. The woman, who had been so friendly just a few seconds earlier, had an expression of utter hatred on her face. It was quite puzzling and quite shocking. As Elizaveta and Daniella jumped up from the table, Lady de Witt deliberately stalked them.

“Lady de Witt!” Elizaveta exclaimed as Daniella shrieked beside her. “What on earth are you doing?”

Lady de Witt followed them as the women moved around the table, trying to close the distance between her enormous knife and her prey.

“I am doing what should have been done in years past,” Lady de Witt hissed, not sounding at all like her formerly friendly self. “The House of du Reims should have been destroyed long ago but no one has been able to do it. Now it is my chance. You came right to me and now it is my chance!”

Elizaveta had a sinking feeling, struggling against panic. “Your chance for what?”

Lady de Witt hardly seemed like the same person they had come to know. She had a wild look in her eye as she lifted the knife.

“To kill you,” she said simply.

In that simply stated explanation, Elizaveta could instantly see that Lady de Witt was after her and not after Daniella. She hissed at her sister-in-law to get away, to run to the door, but Daniella refused to budge and Elizaveta couldn’t very well argue with her and keep an eye on that gigantic knife at the same time. Therefore, it was a very odd dance the women choreographed around the well-scrubbed feasting table.

“Are you mad?” Daniella demanded. “Her husband is outside! He will kill you before you can carry out your terrible intentions!”

Lady de Witt shook her head slowly. “The gate to the room is locked,” she said frankly. “I have the only key. He cannot get in. He will stand at that gate and watch his wife die.”

Terror tore through Elizaveta but she refused to show it. She knew she had to think clearly if there was any hope of salvaging this situation. Heart racing, she continued to back away from the knife that was growing progressively larger in her opinion.

“But why do you want to kill me?” she asked, hoping her voice didn’t tremble. “Why would you do such a thing? Put the knife down and let us speak calmly. Let me hear what it is I have done to you that you should want to kill me. I have never even met you, Julia. Why should you want to do this?”

Lady de Witt faltered slightly. “Because your family stole East Anglia from my family,” she said, watching the confusion ripple across Elizaveta’s face. “I was born a de Mandeville, Lady de Winter. De Witt is my married name. I know all about what your family has done to mine. I know what justice I must seek.”

She’s a de Mandeville!
With that information, it was a struggle for Elizaveta to stay on an even keel. “A de Mandeville,” she gasped; she couldn’t help it. “But… but I personally have no quarrel with you. The feud you speak of is decades old, my lady. It does not matter to you and me, as civilized women.”

Lady de Witt’s nostrils flared in a disturbing gesture. “It matters a great deal,” she snarled. “You have everything that should belong to me. My entire life has been spent with the knowledge that you have what is mine. When my husband and I received the missive that Drake de Winter had been gifted with the East Anglia heiress and was coming to Spexhall to assume command, it was a gift from God. Finally! The East Anglia heiress right in my midst! Watcyn and I knew what we had to do to right the wrongs against my family. Your husband was a fool to come here; my husband will kill him. He is probably already dead!”

Shockingly, a great deal was making sense now, but Elizaveta wasn’t particularly concerned about herself at the moment. The thought of Drake’s death shot through her like a lightning bolt. She was seized with terror and anger and grief, everything she could possibly feel. More than her own death, she feared losing Drake and it was an astonishing realization. She had never considered anyone over her own well-being, at least not like this. She was terrified for her husband’s life. Enraged, she came to a halt at the end of the table with Lady de Witt only a few feet away.

“You
are
mad!” she growled. “Edward is sending men to Spexhall who will be here in a few days. What do you think they will say when Drake is not here?”

Lady de Witt was confident. “We will tell them that we have not seen you,” she said. “It is a simple thing, truly. Your bodies will be long gone by then. There will be no trace.”

So she had it all planned out. Outrage seemed to be outweighing Elizaveta’s fear in the face of such utter madness. “How could you think to kill people who have nothing to do with your imagined grudges and insane fantasies?” she demanded. “How do you know that it is not
your
husband who is dead right now? My husband is a de Winter, a much-decorated knight who serves directly under Edward. Your husband is nothing against him!”

Lady de Witt’s lip flickered with a snarl and her pale face went ashen. “We shall see, East Anglia,” she said. “After I kill you, I shall send your body back to my father and he shall rejoice in your death. With you dead, East Anglia will become his. The House of de Mandeville will be prestigious once again!”

Elizaveta’s fury had the best of her; fury and a strong sense of self-preservation. She knew that Lady de Witt meant everything she said; therefore, Elizaveta knew she had to defend herself. Shoving Daniella aside, she ran for the hearth where a heavy, sharp poker and a shovel were leaning against the wall. Picking up the poker with both hands, she rushed at Lady de Witt, swinging the poker wildly.

The fight for her life began.

Lady de Witt was caught off guard by the weapon that was longer, stronger, and heavier than the knife she carried. Within the first few swings, Elizaveta managed to knock the knife out of the woman’s hand and Daniella, spurred by the battle for their very lives, rushed forward to pick it up. She managed to grab it and toss it away as Elizaveta began to beat Lady de Witt on the head and shoulders with her fire poker.

The tables had turned. As Lady de Witt screamed and tried to protect herself, Daniella ran for the heavy iron shovel near the hearth and, together with Elizaveta, beat Lady de Witt furiously until the woman was unconscious. Even then, Elizaveta pummeled her, terrified the woman would rise up again, but Daniella finally put out a hand to stop her frenzied attack.

“Elizaveta!” she gasped. “She cannot get up! She cannot hurt you now!”

Elizaveta heard Daniella’s words but she was still in a world of panic. She crowned Lady de Witt on the head twice more with the iron poker before coming to a halt. Even then, she wielded the poker like a club as if daring Lady de Witt to rise again.

“Where is the knife?” she asked breathlessly.

Daniella looked around the room in a panic, finally spying the knife over near the stairs that led to the lower floor. She rushed to grab the weapon.

“I have it,” she told Elizaveta, holding the knife up like a trophy. “But what about the servant girl in the kitchen below? What if she tries to kill us, too?”

Elizaveta was trembling with fear. She didn’t trust anyone at this point and especially a servant who had closely served Lady de Witt. Wielding the poker defensively, she waved Daniella with her.

“Let us find that woman,” she said. “I’ll not worry about someone else charging me with a knife.”

Daniella was fearful, and timid somewhat, but she complied. With her shovel in one hand and the knife in the other, she followed Elizaveta down into the kitchen where the servant woman, not surprisingly, was cowering in a corner of the kitchen, having heard the screaming from the floor above her head. It didn’t appear as if the servant had any intention of picking up where her mistress had failed, but Elizaveta would take no chances.

The young girl with brown teeth was terrified as Elizaveta forced her to sit and had Daniella tie the girl up with big strips of hemp that was used to rack up meat and hang it from the ceiling. By the time Daniella was finished, the servant girl had no chance of escaping, wound up in hemp that had been tightly tied behind her back.

With the servant neutralized, Elizaveta and Daniella made their way back up to the floor above where Lady de Witt was still laying in an unconscious heap. For a moment, Elizaveta and Daniella paused to look at the woman, determining what to do next.

“We must get out of here,” Elizaveta finally said, turning the poker on Lady de Witt and poking around in her apron. “Find the key to the gate, Daniella. She said she had the only key and it must be on her somewhere. We must make haste from this room.”

Handing the knife over to Elizaveta, Daniella set the shovel aside, dropped to her knees next to Lady de Witt’s unconscious form, and rummaged through her apron pockets, finally coming up with several old, iron keys strung upon a small rope. As Elizaveta stood guard over Lady de Witt, Daniella rushed to the locked iron door and tried several keys before coming to the one that would open it.

“The gate is open!” Daniella said with relief. “But what of Lady de Witt? Do we simply leave her here?”

Elizaveta nodded. “We will lock her and her servant in,” she said. “They can stay here and rot for all I care.”

Leaving Lady de Witt in a pile on the floor, Elizaveta took the poker, the knife, the iron shovel, and the keys and quickly left the room, locking it behind. Then, and only then, did Elizaveta and Daniella breathe some sighs of relief. Their attacker was caged, the threat against their lives was over for the moment, and there was a great deal of comfort in that. In fact, Elizaveta nearly collapsed with it.

“God’s Bones,” she gasped, looking at Daniella as the woman was slumped against the wall. “I cannot believe what just happened. Did that woman really just try to kill me?”

Daniella nodded, her face pale and her lips quivering. “She did,” she said. “Sweet Jesus, she did! What did she mean about the de Mandevilles and East Anglia and why she would send your body back to her father? It was pure madness!”

Elizaveta nodded, handing Daniella the iron shovel so the woman could keep it as a weapon if needed. “Many years ago, my ancestor killed a de Mandeville ancestor and inherited the Earldom of East Anglia because of it,” she said, still breathless. “The de Mandevilles have been trying to kill us ever since. But who knew that there was a de Mandeville here at Spexhall? They live in Suffolk, of course, but they have been known to keep to themselves. I simply cannot believe one was here at Spexhall, waiting for me to fall into her trap. I must find Drake immediately! We must leave!”

Daniella didn’t argue with her; she didn’t much like this place, either. Elizaveta ran though the stairwell room and out into the entry where the big, iron door was cracked open. She yanked at it with Daniella’s help, pulling the door open enough to slip through it only to come face to face with a major battle in the bailey.

Swords and fists were flying as Drake’s men did battle against de Witt’s significantly smaller forces. Blood was already being spilled and there were dead and dying men littering the ground. Shocked and terrified, Elizaveta and Daniella shoved the door closed and Daniella fumbled with the keys until she found the one that locked the heavy entry door. Together, they moved back through the entry room and into the room beyond that had the table, the big hearth, and the spiral stairwell. They peered through the locked grate that sealed up the room where Lady de Witt still lay on the floor. The woman hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Hurry,” Daniella urged. “Let us lock this door and head upstairs where we can lock ourselves in until this madness is over.”

She started to run up the stairs but realized that Elizaveta wasn’t following. She was still staring at Lady de Witt.

“Elizaveta?” Daniella called to her, softly and urgently. “Hurry and lock the other gate. Let us go to safety.”

Elizaveta heard her, but still, she didn’t move. Her focus remained on Lady de Witt.

“What safety is there?” she asked Daniella. “We will lock ourselves in a room with no food and no water. We could easily starve to death should de Witt somehow emerge victorious. Nay, we must stop this battle, Daniella. We must stop it and we must be the victors. I think I know how.”

Daniella came off the stairs, her expression torn between fear and curiosity. “How?”

Elizaveta turned to look at her. She didn’t say anything for a moment and that lack of an instant response terrified Daniella. Having led a rather protected life as a de la Rosa female, Daniella had never been exposed to any manner of conflict and she’d certainly never been exposed to someone trying to kill her. But she had the innate de la Rosa instinct for survival, something that was bred into the very fabric of the family, so she was more than willing to listen to Elizaveta’s plan once the woman started talking.

Soon enough, she knew what they were in for.