Atticus would believe until the day he died that, at that moment, he had witnessed divine intervention in the form of an allied army.
*
“Tertius!”
Isobeau had very nearly screamed the name when her brother suddenly appeared in her doorway. Startled, she dropped her dragonfly embroidery and flew to her brother, throwing her arms around the man’s neck and breaking into tears. She had never been so surprised, or so glad, to see anyone in her life.
Tertius had just fought his way through a weary Norfolk army to make it to the gates of Wolfe’s Lair that, by the time he arrived, were twisted and smoldering and very difficult to move. But they managed to get one of them open, allowing Northumberland’s army in as Norfolk’s exhausted men scattered and fled south. It had been an extremely short-lived battle that had seen Northumberland, and Wolfe’s Lair, emerge the victor. The de Wolfe standards still flew high above the battered gatehouse.
“Easy, Iz, easy,” Tertius told his hysterical sister, giving her a squeeze before releasing her. “All is well. Everything is safe now.”
Isobeau wiped the tears of joy and relief off her face. “You came!” she gasped. “Why did you come? Why are you here?”
Tertius looked her over critically. “Are you well?” he asked, avoiding her question for the moment. “You look rather pale.”
Isobeau waved him off. “I am fine,” she insisted. “What are you doing here?”
Having his question answered, and knowing that his sister had emerged from the siege of Wolfe’s Lair unharmed, Tertius was inclined to provide Isobeau answers to her own inquiry.
“We were told that Wolfe’s Lair was under attack and made haste to lend assistance,” he said. “How long has this been going on?”
Isobeau shrugged, for she truly didn’t know. It seemed like forever. “At least a week, possibly more,” she said. “Is… is Atticus well? I have not seen him in a very long time.”
Tertius nodded. “Not a scratch on the man,” he replied. “Solomon, either.”
“And Warenne? Kenton?”
Tertius seemed to sober. “Kenton is well,” he said. “But Warenne is dead. You did not know this?”
Isobeau gasped in horror at the news. “I… I did not,” she said, devastated at the passing of the Earl of Thetford. “I have been locked in this room for the past week. I have not been allowed to leave and no one has come to tell me anything, save Thetford. He… he was only here a short while ago. Now he is dead?”
Tertius nodded. “Aye,” he said sadly. Then, he sighed heavily. “Losing Titus and now Warenne… it makes me want to give up war altogether and take up the life of a fisherman. I have seen far too many friends perish over the past few years, but the past few weeks have been the most costly. I am coming to wonder if these wars between Henry and Edward are worth the price we all must pay.”
Isobeau was still lingering on Warenne’s death, so deeply saddened by it. She wandered back over to her little table where her embroidery lay and sat heavily on the nearest chair. “He was such a giving and wise man,” she murmured. “I am sure Atticus is… Tertius, where is Atticus?”
Tertius tugged at his mail gauntlet. “The last I saw, he was cleaning up pockets of fighting near the gate,” he said. “I told you he was well.”
Isobeau nodded. “It is not that,” she said, thinking on the last conversation she and Warenne had shared.He already lost someone he cared very deeply for in a situation where he was unable to protect him. He could not lose someone else he cared deeply for and not do anything about it.She wondered ifWarenne had ever made it back to Atticus to tell him that she was more than willing to see him.To forgive him.Since Atticus had not come to her yet, she suspected that perhaps Warenne had never told him. Her expression to Tertius was filled with urgency. “Please find Atticus and send him to me, Tertius. I must speak to him immediately.”
Tertius frowned. “The man is cleaning up after a battle,” he said. “He has better things to do right now.”
Isobeau stood up. “If you do not send him to me, I will go out and find him,” she said. “Please, Tertius. It is very important.”
Tertius made a face at her but he wasn’t beyond sensing the stress in her tone. Snarling at her, he turned for the door. “You are a demanding creature, Izzy,” he said, unhappy. “I will send Atticus to you when he is finished and not one moment sooner. You should know that you cannot always have everything just the way you wish it.”
Isobeau stuck her tongue out at her brother. “I love you very much, Tertius,” she said. “But sometimes you are an annoying little snip.”
Tertius shook his head at her, lingering in the doorway before he left completely. “And I love you, too,” he said. “But you are a spoiled child.”
“I hate you now.”
“I hate you more.”
Tertius left the chamber but not before Isobeau saw a grin on his lips. Grinning herself, she went to the door, watching her beloved brother head down the corridor and out to the steps that led down into the inner ward.
Once he was gone from her sight, she began to wonder if he would really tell Atticus to come and see her. She suspected he wouldn’t, at least not right away, and that thought began to drive her into agitation. The battle was over, so Tertius said, so surely there was no danger any longer. Surely she could leaveher chamber and find Atticus without any hazards befalling her. She simply couldn’t wait any longer to speak with him; seven days had been far too long to wait.
She had to see him.
