They were in a small chamber in the knights’ quarters, a two-storied stone structure in the outer bailey of Winterhold. It was nearly white-out conditions outside as the snow that had so gently started upon their arrival was now whipping out of control. Ropes had been set up between various out buildings to the great hall so men would not become lost in the white tempest. Even now, Caius stood by the closed shutters of the chamber, feeling them heave with the force of the wind outside.
A right and proper winter storm had descended.
Inside the small chamber, it was stale and warm from coal burning in a tiny hearth as the fumes escaped up the chimney. It was Caius, Maxton, Edward, Peter, Morgan, Kevin, Gareth, andyoung William all crowded inside, with Edward sitting on the bed as the others stood around.
This was their private meeting before proceeding into the great hall where a feast of epic proportions was being prepared, because no one was sure the direction the feast would take. There was already contention between Edward and Covington, so it could end with outright hostilities. Therefore, they chose to discuss what everyone had discovered beforehand to make sure there were no surprises.
But the truth was that there was no surprise in Caius’ statement. That was the conclusion they were all coming to.
The most rotten thing at Winterhold was its master.
“I would agree with you to that respect,” he said. “Covingtonisputrid. While you spent time speaking to Lady Emelisse, I was saddled with that belligerent jackass who kept reminding me of his marriage to Alice de Gras, which I am completely convinced was for one thing only– so Covey would be related to William Marshal. He has no esteem for the woman; he made that very clear. But he was also equally clear at his familial relations to The Marshal. He believes he has complete control of this entire situation because of it.”
Caius shook his head in irritation. “That poor woman,” he said. “Lady Emelisse, I mean. She was trying hard to be brave throughout the conversation, but you can see what a toll the situation has taken on her.”
Edward eyed him. “It is going to get worse,” he said. “Covington informed me this afternoon that he sent for his son a few weeks ago when it looked as if the fall of Hawkstone’s gatehouse was imminent. He wanted the man present for that, but he wants him back even more now because Lady Emelisse is his prisoner. He intends to marry his son to the woman, which will put Hawkstone in a bind even more than it already is.”
Caius lifted his eyebrows at the latest revelation. “Interesting,” he said. “When de Wrenville’s son and I were drinking in London those weeks ago, he mentioned that he had been recalled home but he did not say why. Now, we know.”
“We do.”
“But the lady must not know about it, for she said nothing to me,” Caius continued. “She did, however, ask if I could discover what happened to her father’s body. She wants him sent to Whitchurch for burial.”
Edward rolled his eyes. “They are dragging the moat for it,” he said. “Covington said they tossed it into the moat and I told him to fish it out.”
Caius stared at him a moment before chuckling bitterly. “When we crossed over the inner moat today, there was a fresh body floating in it,” he said. “I wondered if that was de Thorington.”
“Probably.”
As Caius shook his head at the audacity of a man who would harass his neighbor unjustly, kill the man, and then utterly disrespect the man’s remains, Maxton spoke up.
“Edward, I was in the solar when you and de Wrenville were posturing angrily at each other,” he said, foregoing the proper address because he and Edward had known each other for over twenty years. “This man has ambition beyond measure. It is Hawkstone today, but tomorrow it might be Warstone. Or Dudley Castle, even. What of the de Lara trilateral castles? Those are not far from here, either. He could go after Kevin’s father and his properties. Stephen de Lara has a strong army, but as we have seen, Winterhold does, too. Ambition can eat a man, like a cancer.”
Kevin, hearing his father mentioned, perked up. “My father has a massive army,” he said. “He has to with the Welsh princes always trying to overrun his lands, so I have little doubt that hecould repel any advance by Baron Darliston. There is another locale he could go after, too– Four Crosses Castle is north of my father’s lands and that is Gareth’s father’s property. It is quite formidable also.”
Gareth, standing next to Kevin, nodded slowly. He was a big man, with shaggy dark hair around his shoulders, and a quiet demeanor about him. He never said much, but when he spoke, it was something of meaning. He was also the product of two warring family bloodlines– his father, Bretton de Llion, had been a horribly brutal warlord years ago before he met Gareth’s mother, who was the daughter of Ajax de Velt, the man all of England had once called The Dark Lord.
Most still did.
The things Ajax de Velt did during the course of his warring years still gave men nightmares, and Gareth very much had his grandfather’s big, dark, brooding presence. He also had the supreme de Velt physical trait through his mother– eyes that were two different colors. Both eyes were brown, but his right eye had a big splash of green in it. As a result, he mostly let his hair hang over his right eye to cover the flaw. Oddly enough, he was shy at heart because of that trait, but a monster on the field of battle.
Gareth de Llion was a complex man.
“My father is a solid ally of the Marcher lords,” he said in his deep, quiet voice. “He has been for years. But I can promise you that if de Wrenville makes a move for Four Crosses, or any of my father’s or grandfather’s properties, the man will end up impaled on a spike.”
That was no idle threat. Both Bretton and Ajax, in their primes, used the intimidation method of impaling enemies on poles for all to see. If Covington wanted to push his luck, it might very well cost him dearly, especially with de Llion and de Velt involved. Edward held up his hand as the others started to agreewith Gareth’s assessment, perhaps even hoping it would come to that.
They would be rid of Covington de Wrenville once and for all.
“We are getting ahead of ourselves,” Edward said, quieting the group. “The immediate problem is Hawkstone, so let us focus on that for now. Cai, you know that Covington is going to ask you for control of The Marshal’s army tonight. The keep of Hawkstone has held against his onslaught and he believes more men will finally bring it down. You should be prepared for that demand.”
Caius suspected as much and he was pensive as he turned to the shuttered window, opening it just enough to peek outside into the outer bailey. All he could see was white. He stared into the swirling white for a moment as he mulled over how he wanted to handle the situation.
He knew what he wanted to do.
“I believe that when The Marshal sent us here, he truly had no idea of the truth of the magnitude of the situation,” he said. “He told me to use my judgment, but he was also concerned what would happen to Alice should I deny de Wrenville use of the army. Edward, did you get any sense that de Wrenville would somehow harm the woman if he does not get his way?”
They were beyond formalities at that point and, in private, Caius would call Edward by his given name. Edward simply shook his head.
