Even now, Hereford’s men were walking around a pile of limbs and other meaty parts, which had been collected from the mud and placed in an area near the surgeon’s tent. But there were still things sticking up out of the mud, and as the thunder continued to roll overhead, there was a meeting taking place in the tent of the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. His blue tent with yellow lions was recognized all over England. The meeting hadn’t started yet because they were waiting for one man, who quickly came from the direction of the castle and dashed into the tent. Shaking himself off, he pulled his helm off to reveal a flushed, wet face and soaking hair.
“How nice of you to join us, West.” The man standing near a cluttered table, surrounded by a half-dozen soaking, smelly men, glanced up at the latecomer. “Any late news to bring us?”
Westley de Lohr, the youngest son of the Earl of Hereford and Worcester, nodded his head at his eldest brother. “Aye,” he said. “My apologies for being late, but this was just hurled over the wall. One of our men picked it up.”
He was holding up a rock with something strapped to it, and handed it over to Curtis, who was not only his father’s heir but also the Earl of Leominster in his own right. It was evidently a rock wrapped in oilcloth that was held on with a pair of belts. Curtis set the rock on the table as he and another man fussed with the ties on the belts.
“Careful, Curt,” the man said. “It’s dripping water on whatever is inside.”
Curtis acknowledged the advice from another de Lohr brother. Douglas de Lohr was three years older than Westley, the fifth of six de Lohr brothers, but the brother with perhaps the most maturity and wisdom out of all of them. He was also highly intelligent. But the brains and good character he had were encased within a form that sent many a maiden swooning. With his long blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and muscular body, he looked like a Viking god.
Tales of Douglas de Lohr’s beauty were legendary.
“Right,” Curtis said, peering at what seemed to be underneath the oilcloth. “It looks like vellum.”
Douglas took the rock from the table and finished stripping off the leather belts. The oilcloth fell away and a piece of folded vellum did indeed slip out, falling to the ground. Curtis quickly retrieved it, opening it up and reading it as the men in the tent crowded around the table.
“What does it say, Curt?”
A tall, powerfully built man had asked the question. He was older, with dark hair that was turning to gray and the worn lines of a face that had seen much in his lifetime. He also happened to be Curtis’ brother-in-law. Antoninus de Shera, Earl of Coventry, was married to Curtis and Douglas and Westley’s youngest sister, Olivia Charlotte, otherwise known as Honey. He had a great sense of humor but was impatient at times.
“Well?” Antoninus demanded again. “What does it say?”
Curtis finished reading it and handed it over to Antoninus. As the man took it, reading it greedily, Curtis turned to the group.
“It seems that Lady Isabel wants to open the gatehouse and let her army into the fight,” he said, raking his fingers through his dark blond hair. “I cannot say that I blame her. If we open the gates, it is a two-front battle.”
“But we also risk Tatworth men rushing into the fortress and attacking the keep,” another man said. Attention turned to Grayson de Winter, Earl of Radnor, a man who was a close friend of de Shera and de Lohr. He was also the one in command of not only his men, but of Norfolk’s army as well. “We have to be prepared to send men in to protect the keep. There are about fifteen women in that structure that I’m sure Tatworth would love to get his hands on, not to mention the greatest prize of all in Lady Isabel.”
Curtis nodded. “I realize that,” he said. “Grayson, can you organize the defense of the gatehouse? Let no Tatworth man into the bailey. I will maintain my post out here on the walls. We have Tatworth where we want him and I would like to see this battle over by nightfall.”
Grayson nodded, glancing at his son and heir next to him. Davyss de Winter, something of a knightly prodigy at his young age, nodded firmly. With Grayson and Davyss in charge of the gatehouse, surely no man could make it through their line.
“Good,” Curtis said, looking at the other men crowded around the table, all of them taking a turn reading the missive. “Then it is settled. If Lady Isabel wants to open the gates, let her. We will end this skirmish once and for all.”
“As if you could stop her from opening that gate,” Antoninus said with a twinkle in his eye. “Honestly, I’m surprised she’s not out here with us, swinging a sword. The woman is formidable.”
The men chuckled to varying degrees because he was correct. Isabel de Kerrington was a strong, determined woman if there ever was one.
“There is great truth in that statement,” Curtis said. “I think it will be a task simply to prevent her from leaving the keep and taking a stick to Tatworth. The man’s very life is in danger if she gets half a chance.”
“Must we send men to protect him, then?” Douglas quipped.
Everyone laughed at the expense of Tatworth, and Lady Isabel to a certain extent. Curtis shrugged his big shoulders.
“Quite possibly,” he said. “She will be furious enough to beat him soundly about the head and shoulders. But what we must do is protect the keep in case Tatworth men get by me or Grayson. Douglas, that will be up to you. Choose the men you would take with you carefully and go to the keep. You will be the last line of defense if anyone slips through.”
Douglas nodded. He already had his squad in mind, men he’d worked with for years. Men he trusted.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
CHAPTER TWO
The storm hadworsened.
But the time Lady Isabel was ready to raise the portcullis and purge her army from Axminster, the storm was so bad that it was buffeting men about with wind and rain. The Tatworth army had taken a stand when they saw that they would now be fighting on two fronts and had dug in, which had made it difficult to move them away from the gatehouse. It was like tides of men, each pushing against another until there was very little movement at all.
But it was a enough movement for Douglas and his men to get into the bailey.
