The Thunder Lord: The de Shera Brotherhood Book One (Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood 1) (31 page)

Jeniver was looking at Gallus with big eyes, shocked at the very personal information they had heard. Giving Jeniver a rather startled expression of his own, Gallus rapped on the door to let Grayson know they were there. As they entered the room, Grayson stood up from the chair he had been sitting in, seemingly very composed after his revealing one-sided conversation.

“She did not awake, unfortunately,” Grayson said. “Thank you for allowing me to spend a few moments with her, Gallus. I am grateful.”

With that, he excused himself, leaving Gallus and Jeniver looking after him with some pity. Jeniver finally turned to look at her husband, who was obviously having a difficult time reconciling what he had just heard. So many things had changed for him as of late, now with Grayson de Winter not only being gravely ill but also having secret feelings for his mother. He would never tell Davyss, however. There was no reason to. Whatever secrets Grayson had, they would remain his alone. Gallus would give the man that respect.

As Gallus and Jeniver spent the last precious moments with Honey in her lavish, very smelly chamber, a plot was hatched by the de Winter and de Shera men and by sunset, as the storm clouds began to roll in, Henry’s army was already on the move for Kenilworth. The plan was for a very quick hit and an even quicker retreat before de Montfort could mobilize his troops.

As the rain began to fall and the thunder began to roll, two powerful armies closed in on an unsuspecting Kenilworth.

Kenilworth Castle

Bigod’s army never saw them coming.

One moment, all was relatively peaceful on the outskirts of Kenilworth’s Great Mere, the massive lake that surrounded the castle, as the storm pounded around them, and in the next moment, there were men on horseback invading their camp.

The intruders carried torches, heavily fatted so they would burn in the rain, and they plowed into Bigod’s encampment without mercy. Tents were ripped down and horses that were tethered in the trees were untied. More men came up and corralled the loose horses, leading them off into the night. One of the bigger tents that was serving as an armory was badly trampled, although some of the intruders got off their horses and plucked what weaponry they could find on the ground and made off with it. Thievery was rampant.

Bigod’s men, startled with the influx of invaders, scrambled to arm themselves against the horde and a cry went up, alerting the castle as to what was going on. Still, the intruders kept coming, ripping weapons right out of men’s hands and making off with at least two provisions wagons that were secured near the trees. The men on horseback kicked Bigod’s men down, or knocked them in the heads, but oddly enough no blood was spilled by the invaders. It was more like boys fighting, trying to beat each other, but Bigod’s men gathered themselves and went after the aggressors with weapons.

They were bent on killing those who had invaded their camp and that was when the tides of fortune began to change. Once Bigod’s men armed themselves, the invaders seemed quick to run, but as Bigod’s men watched, another army came up behind the invaders and engaged them.

Shocked, Bigod’s men watched as an army bearing the colors of de Shera began to fight and wrestle with the intruders. As the rain pounded and the lightning flashed, there was a massive battle on the main road leading to Kenilworth as the Lords of Thunder met the enemy.

Men were yelling and shoving, and a few even fell off their horses only to jump back on again. When Bigod’s men tried to join the fray, they were shoved aside and even kicked down by de Shera men. It was utterly chaotic, with the storm making it even more tumultuous. Meanwhile, Bigod’s provisions wagons had been taken away and a good deal of their weaponry either stolen or scattered. Horses were taken, captured as booty by the intruders, and all the while, the de Shera men fought furiously against the intruders but, oddly enough, there were no dead or injured men on the ground. It looked like one giant, roiling fist-fight. Someone even saw de Wolfe tunics mingled with the de Shera men. It was truly a sight to behold.

But the mass if punching, kicking men quickly disbanded when the portcullis of Kenilworth began to crank open. The intruders scattered as the de Shera army went in pursuit, everyone racing back the way they came. More lightning and more thunder filled the sky. More chaos and confusion as Bigod’s trampled army tried to make sense of what had just happened. All they knew was that not one of them had been injured with a sword or any other type of weapon, yet most of their horses and two of their provisions wagons were gone, including one that had a chest of coins in it.

By the time troops raced out of Kenilworth and went to pursue the attackers, the intruders were scattered and gone, disappeared, as de Shera troops controlled the situation. Anyone who had come from Kenilworth was directed to return, as Gallus de Shera had the entire circumstance under control and didn’t need any help. Confused, seventy men from de Montfort’s barracks returned to Kenilworth to let de Montfort and Bigod know that de Shera was chasing after the intruders.

On edge, those in and around Kenilworth tried to pick up the pieces and settle down after the brazen attack. One thing was for certain, however. Had de Shera not been returning to Kenilworth when he had, the damage would have been a lot worse. At least, that’s the way de Montfort looked at it.

Bigod, however, was beside himself. He’d lost a great many horses and other valuable items in the raid, and he very much wanted de Montfort to send his men out after his possession in spite of what de Shera said, but de Montfort wouldn’t do it. He feared that it would insult Gallus if he did, and he was quite confused by the man’s appearance at Kenilworth when he was supposed to be at Isenhall. Nothing was making any sense to him so caution was the word of the evening; he would wait until the situation clarified itself before making any decisions. For now, it was better to wait.

Then the hours began to pass as the storm continued into the night. Bigod’s men picked up the pieces of their encampment as the castle remained locked up, on edge, waiting for word from de Shera. Midnight came and went, and still no word as the storm pounded the old walls of Kenilworth. Finally, riders began to appear and de Montfort and Bigod, who had been in Leicester’s quarters, were summoned to the inner ward of Kenilworth about the time Gallus, along with his brothers, his knights, and William de Wolfe, rode in through the gatehouse. De Montfort and Bigod went out to meet them, lashed by the rain.

“Well?” de Montfort shouted over the elements. “What happened?”

Gallus flipped up the visor on his three-point helm. Water ran down his face as the rain poured.

“We managed to chase them off,” he said. “They disbursed into many different bands and were difficult to catch as a whole. They’ll run all the way back to London.”

De Montfort cocked his head curiously. “London?” he repeated. “Why would you say that?”

Gallus glanced at Bigod, who was soaked and pale. “Because they were Henry’s men,” he said, looking between the two noblemen. “Did you not see his colors?”

De Montfort was baffled. “Henry?” he said with some disgust in his tone. “What was he doing here?”

“He took my wagons,” Bigod yelled, wiping the rain from his eyes. “He took about thirty of my best horses. What in the name of God was he doing here?”

Gallus struggled to keep the smug expression off his face. “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “I thought you did.”

Bigod blinked, realizing that if he revealed what he knew about the appearance of Henry’s army, then all would be lost. He wasn’t supposed to know anything about them. So he shook his head, unsteadily, and looked at de Montfort to see how the man was reacting to all of this. But de Montfort kept his composure, his focus steady upon Gallus.

“It seems odd that his army would have struck Kenilworth the way they did,” he said casually. “How is it you were riding after them? Were you chasing them?”

Gallus nodded. “They tried to attack Isenhall but I was there with a thousand men, including de Wolfe,” he said. “We chased them and they led us here. I was glad I was able to head off an even greater attack. They could have seriously decimated Bigod’s ranks had we not come along when we did.”

De Montfort looked directly at Bigod, who was gazing back at de Montfort with a rather frustrated expression. “That is quite true,” de Montfort finally said. “Hugh, you must thank Gallus for saving what he could of your men and material. It would have been quite devastating without his help.”

Bigod was turning red in the face in spite of the cold weather and lashing rain. He stared at de Montfort a good, long time before returning his attention to Gallus. It was very clear that the man was grossly unhappy. He wasn’t able to disguise it very well.

“You… you have my thanks, Gallus,” he mumbled. “But did you manage to save anything? What of my wagons and horses?”

Gallus shook his head. “It was too dark and there were too many of them going in opposite directions,” he said. “I am sorry we could not save your possessions. But at least we saved your men.”

Bigod nodded. Then, he simply turned and walked away, heading back into the warm and dry buildings, unable to adequately absorb his losses this night. Not only had he lost a great many horses and other possessions, but now he was beholden to de Shera when it was supposed to be the other way around. He was coming to think that perhaps his vengeance towards Gallus for not marrying his daughter should come to an end before something terrible happened. Somehow, de Shera had the gods on his side. The man always seemed to come out on top and Bigod could think of no other way to explain it. As of this night, he considered his revenge against de Shera officially over.

De Montfort and Gallus watched Bigod disappear into one of the newer blocks of Kenilworth’s complex before returning their attention to each other. De Montfort was thinking a great many things at that moment but he kept silent. He eventually forced a smile.

“I suppose there is nothing more that will happen this night,” he said. “You have my gratitude for helping fend off Henry’s raid. I find it most curious that he chose to attack Kenilworth when he knew I had thousands of armed men here, but I suppose that is something I will never know. Will you remain here now? How is your mother faring?”

Gallus shook his head. “Not well,” he said. “I will return to Isenhall tonight, as the physic is measuring her life in hours. But rest assured I will return to Kenilworth as soon as I can so we may plan next month’s assembly in Oxford. Can I assume that I will receive an apology from Bigod now that I have saved his men from Henry’s raid?”

Resigned, de Montfort nodded. He was finished trying to manipulate Gallus de Shera because, somehow, the man could never be put into submission. Now, he would have to focus on Bigod and end the contention between the two. Bigod started it. Bigod would end it once and for all.

“I will make certain of it,” he said.

“Do I have your word?”

“You do.”

“Then I will hold you to it,” he said. “Or the next time, I just might let Henry do whatever he pleases.”

With that, Gallus turned around and headed out into the storm, being joined by his brothers and his knights, the entire contingent thundering down the muddy, wet road as they headed back to Isenhall. It made for a long and uncomfortable ride home, but that didn’t matter in the least. When Gallus and his men finally arrived back at Isenhall, Davyss and Grayson were waiting for him, and they celebrated their victory all night.

Although Honey was still unconscious when Gallus and Jeniver sat beside her in the early morning hours, and Gallus told his mother the story of how he bested Hugh Bigod, Gallus would swear until the day he died that he saw a smile upon her pale lips. Honey knew, in whatever level of consciousness she was, that her Gallus would realize triumph. The man could not be defeated.

The legacy of the Thunder Lord, and his Welsh wife, would pass into legend.

THE END

Next: The Thunder Warrior: Book Two in the de Shera Brotherhood Trilogy