The pleasant morning quickly dissolved. Matthew sighed, his gaze drifting over the landscape of his beloved Warwickshire. “Did you tell the messenger to return and tell Warwick that Somerset and Sutton are moving Irish mercenaries up to Gloucester?”
“Aye.”
Matthew pondered a thousand courses of action that the latest news could take. “Last we heard of de Vere, he had laid siege to St. Michael’s Mount and was attempting to rouse all of Cornwall into a Lancastrian uprising,” he said. “When did this end?”
“A few weeks ago,” Mark replied. “De Vere has been fleeing Richard’s forces since that time. Somehow he’s escape to France.”
“And his fortunes with him.”
The brothers fell silent, each lost to their own particular thoughts. Matthew’s jaw ticked faintly, indicative of his level of concern.
“We must return to London immediately,” he said finally. “Too much is happening for us to remain here any longer. Richard will require our strength and counsel.”
“They are all up to something,” Luke muttered. “You were right when you said it two days ago, Matt. Something big is happening.”
Matthew was already heading for the gatehouse and the narrow spiral stairs that led to the ward below. “Notify John and the men. We move out within the hour.”
Luke nodded shortly and fled down the stairs in front of his brothers. Mark followed Matthew to the ward.
“What about Father?” Mark asked.
Matthew shrugged. “What about him? He was sleeping soundly in his room this morning when I left the keep. We kept the drink away from him yesterday, so I would presume that he would be able to ride.”
Mark was silent. Matthew knew his brother well enough to know when something was bothering him. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you, brother. Your silence is full of something, doubt or disapproval, I cannot be sure.”
Mark glanced up at his brother, his eyes so dark that they were almost obsidian. He was the only brother that favored Adam in that regard; the rest of the Wellesbourne siblings possessed their mother’s blue eyes.
“I thought you were with Father last night,” he said. “Had I known that you were not, I would have stayed with him myself.”
Matthew snorted. “I have a new wife and you think I spent my evening with our father? Think again.”
“But he’s still brittle, Matt. I am not comfortable with him being left alone.”
It was an old argument between them. Mark could impart guilt on Matthew like none other; Matthew, on the other hand, would accept it. They loved each other dearly, would defend one another to the death, but they could still trade barbs and insults like brothers could.
“Then you stay with him,” Matthew snapped softly. “I told you that I am not going to go through this again and I meant it. He’s a grown man; I have played nursemaid for twelve long years, Mark. I am tired. It is time for you to shoulder some of the burden.”
“You are unfair,” Mark was trying to keep his temper. “I have shared this burden with you many a time. But we all know that Father responds better to you than to any of us.”
“And that makes it my sole responsibility?” Matthew came to a stop, glaring at his shorter, stockier brother. “I have far too much on my mind to deal with this insanity right now. Wiltshire and Pembroke have moved their armies north to Nottingham, Somerset and Lord Sutton are due in Gloucester any day at which time they, too, will move north, presumably to Nottingham, and Oxford and William Brandon have both fled to France to join Henry’s forces there. Something massive is brewing, Mark, larger than anything we can comprehend. When my mind should be focused on that, you are angry because I did not spend the evening sitting with my father who has less control than a weak woman and the constitution of a skittish cat.”
Part of Mark knew that he was correct, but the other part was genuinely concerned for the state of their father. He knew Matthew was concerned too, deep down, but the man had enormous responsibilities staring him in the face that the others did not.
“Fine,” he said shortly. “The rest of us will try to handle Father. But if something happens to him, something awful, know that the ultimate responsibility should have been with you.”
“I am not the only son of Wellesbourne,” Matthew boomed.
“But you are the only one he’ll listen to!”
They faced off against each other, fury in their expressions, emotions running rampant. Mark jabbed a finger at him.
“I know what this is about,” he hissed. “Your new wife has you else occupied, so much so that you would forget your duty as Adam Wellesbourne’s eldest son.”
A fist came flying at Mark. He wasn’t fast enough to duck and Matthew’s crushing blow nearly took off his head. He wentspinning off balance but somehow managed to keep his feet. Blood dripped from his nostrils as he looked up to see his brother bearing down on him.
