“Lord Sutton and the Earl of Somerset are on the move,” Mark’s voice was grim. “Two of our scouts returned this morning to tell us that Somerset has a contingent of a thousand Irish mercenaries sailing up the Mouth of the Severn. They’ll make Gloucester in a few days.”
Matthew listened carefully to his brother. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, which he hadn’t. But the lack of sleep had never dulled him.
“Do we know this for certain?” he asked.
“Certain enough,” Mark said. “Thomas and Harl have returned with this news, and they are two of our most trusted.”
Matthew recognized the names of the moles. They had been in Wellesbourne’s service for years and were well versed in the world of intelligence gathering. Leaning against the massive map table, he ran his hand over his close-shorn hair. It was a pensive, if not weary, gesture.
“A thousand mercenaries,” he muttered, more to himself. “Copious amounts of manpower are pouring into the heart of England. It is like watching a man bleed to death and not knowing how to stop the blood. It just keeps coming.”
“So what do we do?” Luke asked.
“Obviously, the king must know,” Matthew replied. “I shall question the scouts myself to make sure there is nothing else we should know before sending them on to Richard.”
Mark nodded. “I thought you would want to. In fact, I tried to locate you last night when they arrived but was unable to find you.”
“I was with Father.”
A strange, if not disappointed, silence filled the air. It confirmed what they had all assumed, but it was Luke who finally spoke.
“You cannot blame her, you know,” he said quietly.
“I do not blame her,” Matthew said evenly. “But we should have known. I tried to stop him, but not firmly enough. I should have put a stop to it before it even started.”
Mark and Luke passed long glances. “He was like this when Caroline first came to us,” Mark said quietly. “The presence of a lady seems to unnerve him that way. But he got over it.”
“Aye, he did, but at what cost?” Matthew began to show irritation, fed by his exhaustion. “It is not either one of you that sits with him all night, listing to him cry, holding him down when he tries to throw himself into the blazing hearth or hang himself with any piece of cloth he can find. I thought we were done with all of this madness, but that song undid what the past year of healing has accomplished. We do not need this chaos right now; we’ve too many other things that are far more important.”
“I repeat,” Luke said slowly, “that it is not her fault. She did not know how that song affects him.”
“It releases suicidal depression and grief over a woman who died twelve years ago.” Matthew looked at his brothers. “I am not going to go through this again, do you hear? I will lock him in the vault for the next twenty years for his own protection if he cannot come to terms with our mother’s death. I will not go through this again.”
Mark and Luke remained silent, their eyes focused on anything other than their stressed brother. Matthew was right; he had taken the brunt of their father’s insane grief over the past twelve years because Matthew was the only person who brought Adam a remote amount of comfort. It was an unpredictable madness, set off by the most innocuous things; a flower, a memory, a trinket… it was hard to tell what would throw Adam into a spin of despair. But they had all known that the song would be a major catalyst. It had been the favorite song of Adam and Audrey Wellesbourne. And Matthew had allowed it to happen; his anger at the moment was more at himself than anything.
“I am sorry you had to deal with his madness yet again.” Mark wanted off the subject before Matthew became any more enraged. “Perhaps we should go see to the two scouts.” He stoodup, motioning to Luke to do the same. “Get some sleep, Matt. You will feel better after you have had some rest.”
Matthew was still perched on the end of the map table. “Better,” he snorted, savoring the irony of the word. “My father is locked in his chamber, tied down to the bed, I have an army of Irish mercenaries moving up the Severn, and tonight at Vespers I am to wed. When am I supposed to find the time to rest?”
Mark could see the haze of self-pity coming over his brother. Not that Matthew did not have every right, but at times it could almost be crippling. “I will see to Father,” he said. “Luke will take care of Thomas and Harl so that all you will have to worry over is your wedding.”
Matthew did not respond right away, sitting in moody silence as if mulling over the chaos of his life. Finally, he pushed himself wearily off the table. “Nay,” he said slowly. “I will see to Father. Above everything that is happening here at Wellesbourne, we need to return to London. We are needed there most of all, especially with Somerset moving mercenaries into the middle of England. Luke and Johnny can ready the men while the rest of us are occupied with other things.”
“I haven’t seen Johnny yet this morning,” Mark said.
Matthew instinctively looked at Luke; he generally had a better grasp of the youngest brother’s whereabouts than anyone. Luke nodded his head, slowly.
“I think I know where he might be.”
“Find him. Prepare the men to leave.”
The brothers disbursed, each going about his business. There was chaos at Wellesbourne and they had to do their best to control and channel it, for greater things lay ahead.
More than they would ever dream.
*
Alixandrea was awakeat sunrise. Though the traumatic events from the previous day should have kept her in bed until the nooning meal, she was never one to lie around. Moreover, there was an entire castle that she was anxious to explore, a great new world she now found herself a part of. She tossed the covers off and leapt from bed.
