The Thunder Lord: The de Shera Brotherhood Book One (Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood 1) (25 page)

But de Wolfe wasn’t looking at the men at the table. He was looking at his firstborn son. When William was finished squeezing his son to death, he held the man at arm’s length to look him over.

“Your mother will be pleased to know you were here,” he said, gratitude in his voice. “She worries about you daily. Have you taken a wife yet? She will want to know, so if you haven’t, you’d better have a very good reason. And where is your brother?”

Scott grinned at his father. “Troy is at Isenhall Castle, I would assume,” he said, turning to look at Gallus. “My lord, you remember my father, of course?”

Gallus nodded, coming away from the table to properly greet a living legend. “Without question,” he said, inspecting the handsome, weathered face of the Wolfe. “It is an honor to see you again, my lord. I trust you have known good health.”

William nodded. “Indeed I have,” he said. “I must thank you for bringing Scott with you to Kenilworth. It has been a long time to spend away from my sons, these past two years. And Troy has not come with you?”

Gallus shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said, addressing William with a title of respect even though he, as an earl, outranked the man. “I have left Troy in charge of Isenhall Castle, but it is a mere hour’s ride from here. I am sure he would be pleased with a visit should you be so inclined.”

William nodded. “I will have to,” he said. “My wife would give me an earful if I did not visit him while the opportunity was provided.”

Gallus smiled at the rather humorous way William had said it. Men’s fear of their wives was an ageless story. Holding out his hand, Gallus indicated the table scattered with remnants of their meal. “Would you please sit with us? I was just catching up on what has gone on at Kenilworth in my absence.”

William cocked an eyebrow. “You mean Bigod?” he said. Then, he shook his head with some loathing in his manner. “The man has no control whatsoever. What on earth did you do to make him hate you so?”

Gallus rolled his eyes. “I refused to marry his ugly daughter,” he said. “I married a woman of
my
choice, not his.”

William snorted. “Tiberius told me,” he said. “I wanted to see if there was possibly something else you’d done. Burned his homes and raided his riches, mayhap? The way the man is carrying on, one would think you had gravely wronged him.”

“We were just discussing it, Papa,” Scott said, his tone grim. “We believe de Montfort will ask Gallus not to confront Bigod over it in the hope that the situation will simply wear itself out.”

William looked horrified. “Are the man mad?” he asked the group in general. “Men like Bigod understand one thing – brute strength or brute force of will. If you do not confront the man in the behavior he has not only displayed but is also accustomed to, then he will not understand that he has been bested or defeated. You must show your domination, de Shera, or there will be no end to this. Dominate him and make him understand what will happen if he does not apologize for his actions and cease this slander - you will ensure that very bad things happen to him and to his family. Although I am not one to condone brutal attacks or aggressive violence against my peers, I understand a man like Bigod. He is small-minded and war-minded. You must address him accordingly.”

Gallus absorbed the advice from the all-mighty Wolfe. “Is that what you would do if you were in my position?”

William grunted. “If I was in your position, I would make sure he understands how displeased I am with his behavior,” he said. “I might even take him outside the walls of Kenilworth and beat him where no one could hear his screams.”

Gallus laughed softly at the mental image of William taking a switch, or a club, to Bigod. “I will take it under advisement,” he said, sobering. “Rest assured that I am under the same mindset as you – Bigod will not get away with this and I intend to make sure the man, and everyone else, knows it.”

William nodded. He knew of Gallus de Shera mostly by reputation even though his eldest sons, Scott and Troy, had served the man for a few years. From everything his sons had told him, Gallus and his brothers were powerful, reasonable, ethical, and wise men. William felt rather sorry for the young earl to be caught up in Bigod’s treachery.

“Well,” William said as he moved for the table to sit and join them. “If you require my assistance, I shall be happy to help.”

“Take a stick to him?”

“Or a rock.”

Gallus laughed as he sat down beside William. “As much as I appreciate your offer, I would not risk Bigod’s anger directed at you,” he said, shaking his head. “I would not do that to you, my lord. I respect you too much.”

William took the cup of wine that Tiberius offered him. “Please,” he said. “I would be honored. Besides, men like Bigod infuriate me. Someone needs to poke holes in that massive burden of pride he bears.”

Gallus chuckled. “Then if I need assistance, I would be grateful for your support,” he said, pouring himself more wine. “Hugh would not dare tangle with the Wolfe.”

“Or the Thunder Lord,” William said, grinning when Gallus looked up at him. “I heard from de Montfort what you did to Jacques Honore. Most impressive, my lord. Mayhap you will have to do the same thing to Bigod.”

Everyone at the table chuckled to varying degrees as Gallus nodded in agreement. “If all else fails, mayhap I shall,” he said, lifting his cup to William in a gesture of respect. “To a new alliance of humiliating and crushing Bigod.”

Everyone around the table banged their cups against the tabletop or, in Garran’s case, the wall next to him. It was agreement and support for what needed to be done and, although Gallus had not been serious about destroying Bigod, the message was clear. The man would pay. As the men muttered and joked between them on Bigod’s fate, William focused his attention on Gallus.

“Your brothers told me that your mother has been ill,” he said, pouring himself more wine. “How is she feeling these days? Better, I hope? I knew your mother once, long ago. She is a daughter of Christopher de Lohr and, of course, my father was Christopher’s best friend. I remember Charlotte de Lohr when she was a young girl, before she married Antoninus de Shera and then everyone began calling her Honey. God’s Bones, I feel old saying that.”

Gallus knew this subject would come up but he had hoped to discuss it with his brothers privately first. Maximus and Tiberius were listening anxiously to Gallus’ reply as the man sought a way to tactfully relay his mother’s health woes.

“Unfortunately, my lord, she is not feeling particularly well these days,” he said, watching the concern ripple across his brothers’ faces. “I left her this morning and although she is alert and eating, she is no longer able to walk. Her health continues to decline.”

Before William could reply, Tiberius grasped his brother’s arm. “She is worse?” he asked apprehensively.

Gallus turned slightly so that he was facing his brothers. “I’ve not had the opportunity to tell you,” he said, lowering his voice because the rest of the table was caught up in their own conversations. “She did not look well at all. The physic says her life is now measured in days. I wanted to remain with her and send word to you both to come back to Isenhall, but she would not hear of it. Between her and Jeniver, I was very nearly forced to come here to deal with Bigod, so do not think to return home at this juncture. It will only make Mother very angry. She wants us to deal with Bigod’s slander before we ever think of returning home.”

“That is because her family means everything to her,” William said softly. He had been listening to Gallus. When the de Shera brothers looked at him, William’s face had a distant expression upon it. “You must remember that your mother comes from one of the greatest houses in England. The House of de Lohr is legendary and, to them, family honor and family bonds are everything. I am assuming that your mother knew of Bigod’s slander?”

Gallus nodded. “Evidently, he came to Isenhall and spouted off in front of her,” he said. “I suspect had she felt any better, she might have gone after him with a dagger. I know she believes family honor above all and for that very reason, I have come. But it does not ease the ache in my heart, knowing my mother is now living her last days.”

William could see the sadness in all three brothers and he was sympathetic. “Then, mayhap you should do what you need to do with Bigod and then beg your leave from de Montfort,” he said. “The man will understand that you wish to attend your dying mother. Do you suppose your mother would like a visit from an old friend as well? Mayhap it will lift her spirits.”

He meant a visit from himself and Gallus smiled faintly. “She would love it,” he said. “But in speaking of de Montfort, the man wishes to see me. I should go to him now before he sends soldiers up to drag me to him. Will you please excuse me, my lord, while I attend de Montfort?”

William nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But remember my advice – do not let the man talk you out of what you must do to retain your honor. I would think of all people that de Montfort would understand that.”

Gallus nodded, rising from his seat. As his men, brothers, and de Wolfe lost themselves in a rather loud conversation, Gallus headed to the chamber door, exiting into the dark, narrow corridor with the steep, spiral stairs that led to the ground floor below.

Asking directions to de Montfort’s whereabouts of a soldier he found in the inner ward just outside of the building, he headed in the direction of de Montfort’s new block, all the while thinking what he was going to say to the man. If he was asked to acquiesce, he could not comply. He hoped de Montfort understood why before clapping him in irons and leaving him to rot down in the vault. His honor was at stake and there would be no submission to Bigod’s tantrums.

The Lords of Thunder would suffer degradation from no man, and woe betide to those who would try.

There were soldiers in de Montfort’s block, not only outside of the building but inside as well. In fact, when Gallus entered the two-storied structure, he was immediately set upon by several men bearing de Montfort tunics but one of the soldiers recognized Gallus right away so all hands were removed.

It was cool and dark in the keep, reflective of the cold and dreary weather outside that had moved in overnight. Clouds had rolled in from the east and it was threatening to rain. The soldiers directed Gallus towards the southern end of the building when the Earl of Coventry asked for directions to de Montfort, and Gallus followed the pointing fingers and headed down a corridor that was fairly elaborate in construction. Although the ceiling was flat, all of the doorways lining the corridor were arched, with great detail on the doors themselves. It smelled of old smoke and wood shavings, this corridor, and Gallus kept walking, heading for the door at the end that was half-open. He assumed he’d find de Montfort waiting for him. It was just a feeling he had.

A feeling that wasn’t wrong but as soon as Gallus entered the room, he felt as if he’d been ambushed. De Montfort was in the room, seated behind a massive table that was cluttered with inkwells and vellum scrolls, but there was a second man in the room as well. Gallus found himself looking at Bigod.

De Montfort looked up when he saw movement in the doorway, immediately setting his quill aside and rising from his desk.

“Gallus,” he said, satisfaction in his voice as he moved around the desk and headed for Gallus. “You have finally arrived. Praise God for your safe travels from Wales.”

Gallus was immediately on his guard. More than that, fury was racing through his veins as he gazed steadily at Bigod. “Indeed, my lord,” he said. “The weather has been kinder the last few weeks. It has made traveling much easier.”

De Montfort put a hand on Gallus’ shoulder. “And so you have returned to us,” he said. “Please sit and tell us of your trip to Wales. I am most anxious to know if you were able to secure an allegiance with your new Welsh family.”

Gallus couldn’t take his eyes off of Bigod, who was so far meeting his gaze in a fairly neutral manner. Gallus struggled to contain his temper, especially in light of the fact that De Montfort seemed to be treating his visit as something of a social event. It was most certainly not a social call and he would not sit down as requested. He would not face Hugh Bigod by looking up at him.

“My wife’s father, Gaerwen ap Gaerwen, is recovering from wounds sustained in the attack on my lands those months ago,” he said. “We spoke on our resistance to the king, but I will address that later. At the moment, I have a few things to say to Lord Bigod.”

Simon could see, already, that this meeting wasn’t going well. He hadn’t expected any differently but he was hoping to control the situation somewhat. “Gallus, there is nothing to say to Hugh,” he said, his voice quieter. “Petty squabbles are not my concern and should not be yours, either. What I….”

Gallus looked at the man, then, cutting him off. “Petty squabbles?” he repeated, struggling to contain his outrage. “Bigod comes to my home, insults me, upsets my mother, and I am supposed to forget it? I think not, my lord. Hugh and I will come to terms here and now or there will be very little I intend to do for any of you in this rebellion. I will return to Isenhall and pray you all kill one another so that England can start with fresh new blood on the throne.”

De Montfort could see the rage in the Thunder Lord’s eyes. He’d seen it before and when the fire of fury burned, the results were usually deadly. He knew the situation for what it was, God help him, he knew. He had been in the middle of it, advising Hugh to stop speaking of de Shera as if the man had abandoned England as a whole, but Bigod had a big mouth. When he was displeased, everyone would know it, and now his actions were about to have a reaction aimed right between his eyes. De Montfort knew he couldn’t stop it even though he’d hoped to reason with Gallus. Still, he tried.

“Gal,” he muttered quietly. “Listen to me. Hugh has been told that what he has done is most unsavory and I do not think that punishing him is the answer. In fact, I will forbid it. I beg you to forgive and move away from what has happened. I believe I can convince Bigod to move on as well, but if you counter the man, I am afraid this situation will destroy us all. Men will take sides and the resistance against Henry will be weakened. Is that what you want? I knew you were going to seek Bigod out to punish him and that is why I have brought him here. This situation between you two must be eased. I will not have the both of you fighting in public.”

Gallus’ jaw was ticking and his gaze returned to Hugh who was still standing several feet away, in the shadows, watching everything. When Gallus spoke, it wasn’t to de Montfort.

“So you think to undermine men’s faith in me by spreading lies about my time spent in Wales?” he said, loudly enough so that Hugh could hear him. “I am here, Lord Bigod. Tell me to my face what you have been saying about me to other men. Let me hear the slander you sling so freely. Are you afraid to tell me in person what you have said? Shall I now see what a lowly coward you really are?”

Hugh came out of the shadows. He’d been warned by de Montfort against further insults to Gallus but it was difficult for him. He didn’t like to be told what to do and how to behave. It was his privilege to do as he pleased.

“You have returned from Wales and proved me wrong,” he said, almost mockingly. “I am glad to have been proven wrong.”

Gallus moved away from de Montfort, so quickly that the man couldn’t reach out and grab him. Suddenly, Gallus was stalking Bigod and Hugh, now nervous, began to move away from him, in de Montfort’s direction.

“Let us clear the air between us here and now,” Gallus rumbled. “This entire situation stems from the fact that I did not marry your repulsive, dull, and foolish daughter. She is the worst abomination of womanhood I have ever seen and even if she was the last woman in England, I still would not have married her. I do not want her. I do not like her. Not for all the money in the world would I marry her. Is this in any way unclear to you?”

Hugh was turning red in the face. “Why bring her into this?”

Gallus exploded. “Because this entire situation is because you refused to accept that I was not interested in your daughter,” he boomed. “You petty, insignificant fool, do you not understand that no one wants your daughter? I am not alone in this, yet you single me out because you imagine I have somehow insulted your entire family by not marrying her. What about John de Grey? He was the first lord you went after to marry her lumpy hide and he ended up taking a two year journey to the Holy Land to get away from you. There have been at least four other men you approached with the suggestion of your daughter’s hand and they have all turned you down, so I am not entirely sure why your vengeance has singled me out. It stops now, do you hear? If you ever say another word about me, I will cut your tongue out and de Montfort cannot protect you. Is that in any way unclear?”

Hugh’s eyes were wide, his forehead beaded with sweat. He looked at de Montfort. “He threatened me,” he hissed. “You heard him. He
threatened
me! I want the man arrested!”

De Montfort sighed heavily. “Hugh, if there is any justice dealt in the world, you have just received it,” he said. “I will not arrest Gallus because I need him more than I need you. Whatever he says to you is your own damnable fault.”

Seeing he had no support in Simon, Hugh turned his furious face to Gallus. “You went to Wales when you were supposed to be here,” he said. “Did you receive the support you said you would get?”

Gallus held up a warning finger. “I never said I
would
receive support,” he said. “I said that I was going to Wales to discover if there was support to be had. While I did not receive a pledge of manpower, I received a pledge of money. I am satisfied.”

Hugh’s eyebrows flew up, accusingly. “So you lied!” he spat. “You said you married the Welshwoman to gain an alliance with the Welsh, but that is clearly not the case.”

Gallus growled, frustrated. “Are you truly such an idiotic bastard that you twist everything I say to suit your malicious purpose?” he asked. “You knew my marriage was hasty. You knew I was going to Wales to see if I could gain Welsh support. I gained some support but not what I had hoped. Now I am here informing de Montfort of the results. What is it that I have lied about?”

Hugh was twitching with fury, his mouth working and spittle on his lips. “What are you not telling him?” he demanded. “There are wars in Wales now, a rebellion that is gaining steam. Did your treacherous wife convince you to fight her wars and not the one you swore allegiance to? All Welsh are manipulative and shallow. Is that the kind of woman you married?”

Gallus was on him in a flash, his hands wrapped around Bigod’s fat neck. Simon leapt up, rushing to separate the two men but unable to budge Gallus’ iron grip. He whispered urgently in Gallus’ ear.

“Let him go,” he hissed. “Please, Gal, let him go. If you kill him, it will destroy what we are attempting to accomplish here. I cannot have my barons killing one another.
Please
.”

Gallus heard the desperate hissing and when Bigod’s face turned an appropriate shade of purple, he released the man. It was a warning of what he could, and would, do. It was a promise of things to come should Bigod continue along his foolish path. Bigod stumbled back, collapsing to his knees with his hands on his neck.

“Damn… damn you!” he rasped at Gallus. “Damn you for touching me!”

Gallus was still standing over him with de Montfort’s arms restraining him. His expression was nothing short of deadly.

“You will never speak of my wife again,” he said, oddly calm. “If I hear her name from your lips or I hear that you have spoken of her, I will kill you. Is that clear? Slander me all you want but when you bring my wife into it, I will have no control over my actions. You will die.”

De Montfort was looking at Gallus with some fear and, oddly enough, interest. He’d never seen the man like that before, not ever. At the mere mention of the wife, Gallus had become a madman. De Montfort began to think that maybe there was some truth to Bigod’s accusations that Gallus’ wife could control her husband, bringing him into the Welsh rebellion and taking him from the English. There was no other explanation because, truly, de Montfort had never seen such hazard in Gallus’ face. All at the mention of his wife. Shrewd man that he was, that meant something to him.

“Calm yourself, Gal,” de Montfort finally said, pulling the man away from Bigod, who was struggling to his feet. “He’s simply overwrought. He does not know what he is saying.”

Gallus’ eyes never left Bigod as the man stood up and staggered to the nearest chair, rubbing his neck. “He knows very well what he is saying but I will reiterate this,” he said. “If I hear the man has spoken of my wife, in any fashion, I will kill him and to hell with the barons. They can go to the devil for all I care.”

De Montfort was trying to direct him to a chair. “He will not speak of her,” he assured him. “Hugh has learned his lesson.”

Gallus doubted that seriously. “Then let him prove it,” he said. “Let him stand up in front of all of our allies and announce to them that he has lied about me. Let him tell the throng that he has the utmost faith in me and that he was wrong. Let him swear it. Otherwise, I will consider us enemies, and I do not stand alongside an enemy, no matter what the cause.”

De Montfort looked at him, stunned. “You cannot be serious.”

Gallus looked him squarely in the eye. “I am deadly serious,” he said. “Let Bigod stand before all of the barons and tell them that he was wrong or I will go to Henry this night and fight for him. And I take all of my support and manpower with me.”

De Montfort knew he was sincere. Gallus de Shera never said anything he didn’t mean implicitly. He looked at Hugh. “Damn you,” he hissed. “Do you hear his terms? You will comply or your foolishness will have destroyed what we are attempting to accomplish.”

Hugh was still rubbing his neck. Furious, ashamed, and the least bit frightened, he turned away without a word, grunting and coughing, struggling with his nearly-crushed throat. He wouldn’t answer. De Montfort sighed heavily as he turned to Gallus.

“Gal, please…,” he began.

Gallus ignored him, turning for the door. “I will give him one day,” he said. “One day to do this or I go to Henry.”

With that, he marched from the room, his heavy bootfalls fading down the corridor. De Montfort stood there, still astonished by the entire event, before returning his attention to Hugh.

“Do you see what you have caused?” he demanded. “I told you to shut your mouth but you would not listen. How can I impress upon you the need to behave like a man and not a spoiled boy?”

Hugh would not be berated. “He went to Wales and returned with nothing,” he said, his voice hoarse. “There is at least some truth to what I have said.”

De Montfort rolled his eyes. “There is no truth to it and you know it,” he said. “But now we find ourselves in a predicament. We cannot have the man going to Henry. If he does, all we are working for will be lost.”

Hugh was trying not to feel guilty for the situation. Rising from the chair he had flopped upon, he staggered towards a pitcher of wine on a table near the lancet windows that overlooked the Great Mere beyond. He poured himself a sloppy cup and drank.