He was outnumbered and his horse was exhausted as it was. Anymore hard running on the animal’s part and he would findhimself walking the rest of the way. Confident he could talk his way out of any situation, he did as he was bade.
The riders swarmed around him, swallowing him up. Guy remained impassive, controlling the fear that sweated him. One of the knights rode alongside and scrutinized him.
“Identify yourself.”
“A poor knight, riding north in search of a fortune,” Guy lied humbly.
Another knight rode alongside, studying him intently. Guy tried to avert his gaze, yet his natural reaction was to meet the open stare. After a moment, the knight spoke.
“Remove your helm.”
Guy’s first thought was that he had run into a horde of Gaston’s men. Knowing it would be useless to refuse, he did as he was commanded.
“Stoneley,” one of the men gasped.
There was no use in pretending otherwise. Eyes hard, Guy lifted his gaze to silently challenge all men present. “Who do you serve? De Russe?”
One of the knights shook his head. “Nay, my lord. We’re Lord Lowrie’s men.”
“Of Harewood House?” Stoneley felt his whole body run hot and cold with relief. He knew Baron Lowrie well. “What are you doing so far from home?”
“’Tis the old feud, my lord,” the knight replied. “The skirmish between Harewood and Bramham has been going on for as long as anyone can remember. Earlier this eve, one of Bramham’s men slipped into Harewood and stole off with Lowrie’s youngest daughter. Thirteen, she is. We have already burned half of Bramham, but she’s not there. Lowrie’s frantic.”
The man had five daughters. How could he worry so over one? But Guy nodded, greatly relieved that he was not the subject of the search. He was very eager to be on his way.
“Ye have not seen anyone, have ye, my lord?” the other knight asked hopefully.
“Not a thing,” Guy replied honestly. “Well, good men, I must be on my way.”
“Say, we heard ye were locked up in the White Tower after Stoke,” the same knight mentioned. “I see the Tudor released ye?”
Guy gazed at the man a moment, seeing the possibilities of useful information. “So it would seem. How goes all in Yorkshire during my absence?”
“The same,” the other knight replied. “Botmore, Brimley, Ingilsby, and Tarrington; all the same. Except for Botmore, of course. He hasn’t been the same since the Dark Knight killed his son.”
“Killed Derek?” Guy repeated, surprised. “How did that happen?”
“We heard Derek was raiding Mt. Holyoak,” the knight replied confidently. “Sir Gaston de Russe killed him for trespassing.”
Guy lifted an eyebrow in thought. “Is that so? Fortunate that he has vacated the keep, which I have returned to claim.”
“He has not vacated it entirely,” the knight shook his head. “He keeps about a hundred men stationed there. Brimley oversees the fortress while the Dark Knight is in London,” he peered closely at Guy. “Did the Tudor not tell you this when he released you?”
Guy did not know what to say for the moment. But he rebounded instantly. “Of course he did. I plan to stay at… Knaresborough until de Russe evacuates his men from my keep,” he gathered his reins hastily, eager to be gone. “Allow me passage, good men.” They parted for him, watching as the weary brown destrier pounded down the road once more. He was well out of range when the first knight turned to the second.
“I never thought I’d see him again,” he mumbled.
“The man stenches of the devil,” the second said. “Lowrie told tale of what he did to his wife. Say, I heard she left with the Dark One as his concubine. I heard the sisters were all killed.”
The first knight shrugged. “Who knows? Mayhap they are all rumors and lies. Mayhap he isn’t as bad as everyone says.”
*
Gaston did notstop again. Taran was frothing and sweaty, but he was used to difficult conditions and hearty. Gaston kept a slower pace, but he did not let up. His searing sense of urgency had gained in strength and power, pushing him onward with no hope of relief until he reached Mt. Holyoak. Then, and only then, would he rest and plan.
He passed through Wakefield, heading into North Yorkshire. Skirting Leeds, he headed northeast and passed the cities of Boston Spa and Collingham. After Collingham, it was nearly a straight ride to Boroughbridge.
And then Mt. Holyoak.
