“Understood,” she said glumly.
“Good,” Caius said, opening the door. “We have a long ride ahead of us, and a great deal to do when we reach Hawkstone, so I need you to remain calm and reasonable. Do this and we shall get through this, my lady. I promise.”
Emelisse nodded, squaring her shoulders and preparing to meet the situation head-on. She was leaving Winterhold and that was all she cared about at the moment. It was true that she wasn’t leaving with her father’s body, but that couldn’t be helped at the moment. She was coming to think that if it was at all possible, Caius would have made it so.
He seemed to have worked a few miracles on her behalf.
She was coming to think that he was a very special man, indeed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In the lightof day, Hawkstone looked like a great beast with all of its innards scraped out.
The late afternoon sun shone brightly upon the beaten structure, a shell of its former self, with the gatehouse still smoldering, the drawbridge badly damaged, and great clouds of smoke rising up out of the bailey. Everything was covered with white from the snow dumped the night before, but there had been a great deal of activity in and around the castle because all the footpaths had turned to mud. A glorious white landscape was marred by dark, dirty pathways.
And there were men everywhere– Winterhold men. There was an encampment about a quarter of a mile from the castle itself, heavy with smoke on this cold day but smelling like the latrines that had been dug downstream. There was also an encampment in the bailey itself. The army had partially set up in the bailey to better stake their claim on the castle itself.
And then, there were the bodies.
It was worse than Caius had anticipated and he was coming to regret having brought Emelisse along. She tried to be brave; she tried to be very brave. But as the party drew closer, shecalmly pointed out that some of the dead lining the road and partially covered by snow were men she had been tending in the hall. She even saw the man whose gut wound she’d been trying to sew when she’d been pulled from her duty. So many of Hawkstone’s dead simply lying out in the elements.
It was an appalling sight.
Hallam thought so, too. He was riding with them this morning as Covington’s representative to see that his lord’s commands and wishes were followed. He rode at the head of the column of fifty Pembroke soldiers, meant to be an escort for Lady Emelisse and nothing more. Riding along with the Hallam and Caius and Emelisse were Maxton, Morgan, William, and Kevin. Gareth had ended up riding back with Peter to take the de Lohr army home because Kevin wanted to stay at Winterhold to see how de Wrenville’s madness was going to progress. If his father was going to need to be put on alert, Kevin wanted to be close enough to his father’s seat to ride home in a relatively short amount of time.
He wanted to keep an eye on the action.
But, at the moment, all eyes were turned to the dead lining the road into Hawkstone, trying not to look at Lady Emelisse when she broke down in tears because of it. It was a great deal to take in, the death of men who had been part of her Hawkstone family, and their party approaching the gatehouse was met with no resistance whatsoever. There were no men to even question them. They passed through with ease and ended up in the vast bailey of Hawkstone.
It was then that Caius got a good look at de Wrenville’s coveted prize.
Hawkstone sat at the base of a mountain that was covered in white. He could see that there were trees covering the slopes, but the snow had left everything pristine and white. It was more of a hill than an actual mountain, but a big hill at that, and itstretched to the north and east, giving a rise to otherwise flat lands.
Mynydd Adar.
Hawk Mountain.
The castle itself was built from red sandstone, mined from the mountain itself. It was surprisingly large, built on an upslope so it angled up towards the mountain. There was an enormous curtain wall, anchored in each corner by a squat, heavy tower. The bailey had stables, outbuildings, and a great hall, which had a partially-burned roof and a wall that had crumbled when the roof caved in. There were a few more buildings that were built against the wall and then an enormous keep that was at four stories tall, shaped like a four-leaf clover.
As Caius and the others entered the bailey, they could see a vast amount of soldiers crowding around the base of the keep, seemingly very busy. The only door to the keep was well above their heads, on the second floor, the retractable wooden staircase having long been burned away. They could see the remnants. It looked as if the soldiers were clearing something away, perhaps snow, but the keep was clearly still bottled up. The door was sealed and the windows shuttered. Caius reined his horse over to Emelisse.
“That is where your brother is?” he asked her, pointing to the keep.
She was discreetly wiping away the tears. “Aye,” she said, trying very hard not to show how emotional she was about the devastation of her home. “I believe he is there. But it is possible he is not.”
Caius looked at her. “What do you mean?”
Emelisse’s gaze moved to the big keep. “That was the last place I ever saw him,” she said. “After I was captured, I heard someone say that he was still there, fighting with several of hismen. But I do believe he is still there. Caspian is strong. He would not surrender.”
She sounded confident, but Caius sensed pain. A lot of it. His gaze lingered on her a moment before reining his horse over to Hallam.
“Whatever your men are doing, get them away from the keep,” he said. “In fact, move them all out of the bailey and back to the encampment. I have a feeling that de Thorington will not open that door under any circumstances, not even for his sister, which means any conversation will have to be shouted and your army is not privileged enough to hear what is to be said.”
Hallam nodded, turning to glance at the lady. “I cannot imagine it is pleasant for her to be back here.”
“Nay.”
“Did you see that pendant around her neck?”
