Davyss lifted an eyebrow. “Because I had Lollardly send a missive to Hollyhock addressed to Darien de Russe. He was mother’s primary jailer. You remember Darien, do you not?”
As Hugh nodded, Davyss continued. “Since Lollardly is our priest as well as our surgeon, I had him send a missive on behalf of the Bishop of Norwich requesting that Lady Katharine de Winter be released to the custody of the church so that she could travel to Norwich and attend her son’s wife in childbirth. If all has gone as planned, Mother has been at Norwich for severalweeks now. I have not yet heard from Lollardly to that regard but I am sure that de Russe would not go against a request from the Bishop of Norwich.”
“Brilliant,” Hugh approved. “So Mother is now safe at Norwich.”
“Presumably.”
Davyss stepped away from the tent flap again, seriously considering getting some sleep before his meeting with Henry in a few hours. Reaching his bedroll, he sat heavily. He could already hear Philip snoring. With a weary sigh, he lay down and stretched out, the first time he had done so in two days. Exhaustion was finally catching up to him. Just as he was drifting off, there was a call from the tent flap.
Andrew was up, moving for the entry. As he peeled back the cloth, he found himself looking at a soldier he recognized. The man was one of Davyss’ men, left behind at Norwich for Lady de Winter’s protection. Andrew’s face lit up with a smile.
“Ah!” he said happily, turning to Davyss. “Look what we have, Davyss; news from Norwich.”
Davyss was on his feet faster than lightning. He didn’t even remember getting up, but suddenly, he was up and at the tent entry. He, too, recognized the man, and all he could feel at the moment was terror and elation. He didn’t even give the man the chance to greet him before he was pounding into him with questions.
“Well?” he demanded. “Where is my missive? Has my son arrived yet?”
The soldier was exhausted. His face was pale and stubbled as he focused on his liege. Only Andrew seemed to sense that the man was hesitant to speak, which immediately put him on his guard.
“I carry no missive, my lord,” the soldier said. “Your mother has sent me with a personal message for you.”
Davyss’ brow furrowed slightly. “So my mother is at Norwich?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Excellent,” Davyss, either too exhausted to notice or too focused on the news the man carried, didn’t sense the soldier’s reluctance. He pushed him. “Well? How are my wife and son?”
The soldier took a deep breath, water from the driving rain dripping off his helm and on to his face. “Your mother says to tell you that two male children were born to you as of three weeks ago,” he said. “She congratulates you on your healthy children. She also says to tell you that your lady wife did not fare well in the birth and that you should come home immediately.”
All of the joy abruptly drained from Davyss’ face as the man’s words sank deep. The ground suddenly became unsteady and he began to grab for something to steady himself with, which happened to be Hugh and Andrew. As his joy turned to horror, he literally could not stand as his legs turned to water.
“My wife?” he breathed. “My sweet God… is she dead?”
“Nay, my lord.”
“What happened?”
The soldier shook his head. “I was not privy to such knowledge, my lord. There was not time for your mother to draft a missive so she bade me to ride hard for Evesham and deliver the news to you personally.”
Davyss thought he might become physically ill; in fact, it was some time before he realized that Hugh and Andrew had lowered him onto the ground. He sat there, his face a mirror of horror and shock, as Andrew and Edmund bolted from the tent and began calling for the chargers. Davyss heard them but he couldn’t think straight; all he could do was stare at the soldier who had delivered a message he had always known might be a possibility yet had not truly anticipated.
“You do not know what happened to my wife?” he pleaded.
By this time, Hugh had pulled the soldier into the tent and closed the flap so prying eyes from outside would not see Davyss in his weakened state. The soldier shook his head to Davyss’ question.
“All I know is that your wife delivered twins in mid-July,” he replied. “All we knew was that she had two boys and did not fare well in the birth. Lollardly has called in physics from Norwich, Great Yarmouth and Acle to tend your wife. Your mother told me to ride swiftly to find you and tell you to come home right away.”
Davyss struggled to think, to plan what he must do next. All he could feel was stark, unadulterated panic and he struggled to shake it off. He could not let it overwhelm him. He had to get to Devereux.
Somehow, he found his feet but he was still unsteady. All he could think, feel or see was his wife and the thought that something horrible had happened to her threatened to undo him time and time again, but he pushed the negative thoughts away, listening to his brother’s instructions because he couldn’t seem to do for himself. Hugh seemed to be doing everything for him, helping him to dress, telling him that Andrew and Edmund were securing the horses.
It was Hugh who strapped the scabbard around his waist, the elaborate leather sheath that containedLespada. Davyss absently touched the hilt of the ancient sword, thinking that all of the battles in the entire world seemed rather insignificant now; family, life and love were so much more important. All he wanted to do was get to his wife. That was the only thing that mattered. As he moved past the soldier who had delivered the devastating news, he grabbed the man by the arm.
“My sons,” his voice was faint, hoarse. “They are well?”
The soldier could see how shaken his liege was and, truth be told, he felt a good deal of pity for the man. They all did. All of Davyss’ soldiers knew how deeply in love he was with hiswife and her failure to come through the birth of his children unscathed had sent all of Norwich into a depression.
“Well, my lord,” he assured him softly. “Lollardly and your mother have had quite a time with them. They scream at all hours and eat constantly.”
