“Ah,” he said. “I see that Douglas is showing you that horrible creature he bought.”
Christopher was trying not to scowl. “When did he buy that thing?”
Myles snorted. “A few weeks ago,” he said. “He had saved enough money and was determined to buy his own horse.”
“And he boughtthat?”
Myles nodded. “We tried to stop him,” he said. “Curt did, I did, but he would not listen. The man at the livery in Presteigne saw a fool in my younger brother and convinced him that the horse is a relative of Pegasus. The truth is that the old horse has one foot in the stew pot.”
Douglas was clearly thrilled with his purchase. He reined the horse in circles as Westley held on to the horse’s tail and tried to smack it with his stick. Douglas saw what his youngest brother was doing and tried to kick at him to get him to stop.
Christopher just shook his head at the antics.
“Would it be best for me to take Douglas back with me to Lioncross?” he said, scratching his head irritably. “I fear those two have been creating havoc for Curt, and he does not need that right now.”
Myles’ smile faded. “I think you should take them both back,” he said. “Curtis does not need to worry about them. As much as I love to watch my younger brothers beat on each other, the truth is that they are young. They are annoying. If you do not take them back with you, you may find them tied up and dumped on your doorstep someday. Ellie was the only one with any patience for them, and now…”
He trailed off abruptly as they ended up on the subject of Elle. Christopher instinctively turned his attention in the direction of the keep, his eyes finding the windows that were part of Curtis and Elle’s bower.
“Your mother thought she might have been better this morning,” he said. “The apothecary managed to brew that foul-smelling potion, and he started pouring it down her throat yesterday. He thinks it will help a great deal.”
Myles was looking to the keep also. “Is she awake yet?”
“Not the last time I saw her.”
Myles let out a heavy sigh and looked away. “What is going to happen if she dies, Papa?” he finally asked. “Curt will go out of his mind. You must stay until we know which way Ellie will go, because I surely cannot handle him by myself. This entire place is in chaos because of Amaro. Asa is useless because of Melly’s death, Hugo is nearly as useless because he feels responsible, and that leaves me to manage everything. I cannot do it all.”
Now, he was voicing what they had not yet been able to voice. He was speaking of death and consequences. It was like opening the door for the devil to step in and take her. Christopher put his hand on Myles’ shoulder.
“I know,” he said, trying to be of some comfort. “But you are Curt’s rock right now. He needs you, so do not collapse under the strain.”
“I will not,” Myles said. “But what about Roi? Can you not send him here?”
Christopher shook his head. “Roi is in London,” he said. “Henry is having problems with Richard Marshal, and Roi has gone to give counsel. You know that Henry relies on him.”
Myles looked at him. “I would say the possible death of Curt’s wife is more important than Henry’s issues with Richard Marshal,” he said. “You must send word to Roi and have him come. He is needed here more. Or at least send Sherry back. You cannot leave me alone with this.”
Christopher knew that. But he also knew that Peter and Alexander were important garrison commanders, and to pull them away from their own commands was beneath them.
“They have their own mighty commands,” he said. “I cannot do that. What about leaving Jeffrey here?”
Myles shook his head. “You know I love Jeffrey, but he is far too old,” he said. “He would be fine commanding, but he wouldn’t be much in a fight. I need men with strong swords.”
Christopher’s gaze moved to the wall where Jeffrey was. He could see him near the gatehouse. “This situation has him broken,” he said. “He feels responsible that he let Amaro slip away from Lioncross.”
“It is not his fault,” Myles said. “He should not take any blame.”
Christopher sighed heavily. “I know,” he said. “I told him so. What if I send Staff to you? I will if you think he would be of help.”
Myles knew Stafford de Poyer, a keen and intelligent knight who had served his father for a couple of years. Stafford’s father, Keller, had been a knight sworn to William Marshal, so Myles had known the family for several years. Stafford had only recently come to Lioncross, beefing up the border castle’s stable of capable knights.
“If you will do that, I will be grateful,” he said. “I would feel much better with Staff here. He can help me manage this beast of a castle, but I would like another knight if you can spare him.”
“Who?”
“Rhys d’Mearc.”
Christopher grunted unhappily. “I hate to part with him.”
