Adam held up a hand to the hot-headed young knight. “Because Atticus was volatile enough without emotional knights tagging along with him,” he said, bordering on scolding. “But Atticus must know that de Troiu and de la Londe are at Wellesbourne and someone must ride to tell him.”
“Let me go,” Alec said, standing over de Royans’ shoulder. “I would consider it an honor.”
Maxim stood up, his unhappy focus on Alec. “I told you that I wanted to go with Atticus,” he said. “Why should you be allowed to go?”
Adam put up his hands between the pair before someone threw a punch, which had been known to happen between the cousins. They loved each other dearly but didn’t hesitate to fight one another if the situation called for it.
“Cease,” he commanded, glaring at Maxim before turning his attention to Alec. “I have a feeling that each one of us will volunteer to go to Wolfe’s Lair to inform Atticus that the very men he seeks are at Wellesbourne Castle, so it is my inclinationthat only de Royans should go since he has seen de la Londe and de Troiu personally. He can verify with his own eyes to Atticus that those men are prisoners at Wellesbourne. Moreover, you know that we cannot leave Alnwick, not now. There is too much at stake.”
Maxim growled unhappily. “Because Edward will march upon us,” he said. “That will not happen for months, Adam. Do you truly believe Edward will march an army up here so soon after Towton? Men are wounded and battle lords scattered. Edward is in London. He has better things to do than worry about Alnwick!”
As Adam and Maxim started to argue, caused by the stress of being bottled up in Alnwick awaiting Edward’s proverbial axe to fall on their heads, de Royans put up his hands to interrupt them.
“We heard news of Towton,” he said loudly, distracting the two knights, “but we heard it from de la Londe’s point of view. What has happened?”
Adam was still glaring at Maxim but answered de Royans out of politeness. “It was a rout for Edward’s forces,” he said, sounding weary and unhappy. “Edward soundly defeated us. We lost Henry Percy among others. However bad de la Londe made it sound, the reality is that it was much worse. Be glad you were not there, de Royans. I have never seen such carnage or death in my life. It was hell.”
De Royans listened seriously. Pondering the destruction, he shook his head in sorrow. “Then I am saddened to hear this,” he said. “But I fail to understand why Henry was so badly defeated. He had superior numbers, did he not?”
Adam shook his head and spent the next hour explaining to de Royans the tactics of Edward against Henry. By the time he was finished, de Royans was counting his blessings thatWellesbourne had not been at the fight. He more than likely would have been one of the dead, too.
When tempers calmed, the evening was spent in a quiet meal with the knights of Alnwick, including Tertius, and also including the new earl, young Henry. The older knights deliberately kept the conversation away from Towton, or Atticus or Titus, or any reference to death in general. They told stories of past adventures, laughing at their foolishness or their cleverness, and passed the evening in a rare, jovial mood. As of late, there had been little to be jovial over and the meal had been a welcome respite in the midst of their stressful existence.
But the evening inevitably ended and there were tasks to be completed. Before dawn, de Royans was once again on the road, heading for Wolfe’s Lair and the news that the very men Atticus wanted were safe and sound, locked up in the vault of Wellesbourne. He left behind several disappointed knights, a fearful young earl, and a castle that was once again sealed up to await her fate as the tides of the throne had shifted against them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ionian scale in C– Lyrics to The Deepest Dream
I seem to awaken,
As if from the deepest dream.
But in this world of confusion,
Nothing is as it seems.
—Isobeau de Shera de Wolfe, 15th c.
It had beenan odd sensation, truly.
Atticus had never had to think of anyone other than himself and after he’d left Isobeau in her chambers to finish packing, he’d headed down to the stables to inspect the mare she had mentioned. He didn’t know why he should do such a thing, or even care, because the horse had brought her from Alnwick to Wolfe’s Lair with no problems, but she had seemed concerned about the endurance of the animal which spurred his sense of concern as well.
Atticus had never had to consider anyone else before– their safety or their comfort. He was a selfish man but that selfishness had kept him alive and safe all of these years. Therefore, inspecting the somewhat skittish mare with the strange look to her eye, he decided that he didn’t want Isobeau riding the beast for the long journey south.
He went on the hunt for a sturdy, less-skittish animal and came across a very big, very shaggy gelding that his father used.The animal was so calm that he had to slap it a couple of times, affectionately, to make sure it was even breathing. He was certain his father would not mind if they borrowed the animal and Atticus would feel much better with Isobeau on such a calm beast. His wife. He didn’t want to have to worry about her safety on an already-perilous journey.
But there was another reason as well, something he didn’t want to admit to himself because it sounded incredibly cruel and self-centered. He knew that Titus had given Isobeau the lovely mare and somehow, he didn’t want that reminder of his brother around. Titus had asked him to marry Isobeau and he had done that. But he was coming to realize that he had to make a life with her; nay, hewantedto make a life with her, and a constant reminder of Titus would make that difficult. Perhaps it was selfish or perhaps it was understandable; in any case, he didn’t want her riding the mare. He hoped that Titus, wherever the man was, would understand.
He had Kenton take charge of the great, hairy beast to prepare it for the journey as he checked on his own horse and completed other small duties that centered around their departure. As he was crossing the inner ward on his way back to Isobeau’s chamber, he remembered about Norfolk’s injured knight, a man who was now his hostage. Taking a detour, he headed into the great hall, the last place he had seen the man. He wanted to see the knight and to make his position, and the position of the hostage, abundantly clear. That was simply good manners in the complex and ruthless world of knights.
The great hall of Wolfe’s Lair was a long, slender room that could easily house a hundred men at any given time. It had a sharply pitched roof and a great fire pit in the center of the hall, with small holes in the ceiling for the smoke to escape. The fire was burning low in the big pit and a haze of blue smoke hung up towards the ceiling, ribbons of smoke filtering out through thevents. The hall, usually so cold and dark, was fairly warm and well lit. As Atticus made his way deeper into the hall, he could see Norfolk’s knight positioned against the wall nearest to the pit.
The man was tucked back in the shadows a bit and as Atticus came upon him, he saw his father’s physic from Hawick and an older male servant tending the man. The knight noticed Atticus right away and their gazes met through the haze of smoke. Emotionlessly, Atticus was the first to speak.
“How do your injuries fare?” he asked as casually as one would ask about the weather.
Alrik du Reims was as emotionless as Atticus was. A big knight with black eyes and shoulder-length hair, he glanced at the physic as the man wrapped his left ankle tightly.
