Julian poured himself more wine. “She is afraid,” he said. “Afraid of the French king, afraid of her own mother who rules similar lands… the woman needs help and I have sworn to obtain it. Will you not supply me with men and knights for this purpose?”
It was evident that David was resistant. Gart stayed out of the conversation, listening to his liege and Buckland go back and forth on what was, and was not, appropriate support. Gart had served de Lohr for six years and knew the man and his family were rigidly opposed to John. They had been strong supporters of Richard until four years ago when the man was killed in France. Then, they had no choice but to support John as the rightful king. It was something that still left a bad taste in their mouths.
Gart sat at the table for quite some time listening to the arguing and pleading. He ate, he drank, and he generally grew weary of the bickering. Finally excusing himself just after midnight, he intended to return to the stables to collect his bags and then find a warm corner of Dunster to sleep in. He was exhausted and decided to let the barons do their bickering alone. He had no say in it, anyway.
Taking the spiral stairs down to the entry level, he could see remnants of white powder on the floor and steps. He half-expected the three little hooligans to come jumping out at him again and knew, reasonably, that they would be in bed and longasleep by now. Quitting the keep, he took the wooden stairs to the bailey and proceeded across the dark, dusty ward.
The moon was full overhead, casting the landscape in an eerie silver glow. Gart glanced up at the sky, seeing a million stars spread across the dark expanse. It was a beautiful night and unseasonably clear.
As he lowered his gaze in search of the stables, he could see the sentries upon the battlements as pinpoints of torch light moved through the darkness. Somewhere, a dog barked. Just as the stables came into view to the northeast section of the castle, his gaze fell upon a small and lone figure near the northeast tower.
He wouldn’t have paid any attention except the figure turned and began to walk, and he noticed immediately that it wasn’t a soldier. It was too small and too finely wrapped. Drawing closer, he realized he was gazing up at a woman as she walked the battlements.
Not only was it very late for a lone woman to be taking a nightly stroll, it was also unsafe. Only someone very comfortable with her position within the castle would show such confidence walking alone. Curious, he made his way to the northeast turret and took the stairs to the battlements.
The battlements were long and narrow, perched high on the walls of Dunster. There was a thirty-foot drop to the bailey below as he made his way along the narrow walkway. He could see the cloaked figure ahead of him, heading in the direction of the gatehouse. He picked up his pace, passing a couple of sentries, to catch up with her.
“My lady?” he said when he came to within a few feet of her.
Startled, Emberley spun around and nearly lost her balance. Gart quickly reached out to grab her so she wouldn’t topple over the side. When he was sure she was steady, he immediately dropped his hands.
“God’s Bones,” Emberley cursed softly, patting her chest as if to restart her heart. “You frightened me.”
He smiled, his strong feature shadowed in the moonlight. “My apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to.”
Emberley wasn’t truly upset and she returned his smile to let him know. “I know you did not,” she replied, studying him for a brief moment. Her gaze moved over his features in a warm, comforting manner. “I was lost in thought and did not hear you approach.”
“Surely there are safer places to lose oneself in thought. Why are you on the battlements?”
She gazed across the wilds of Somerset beyond the castle walls. “I do not sleep well and walking helps me to relax,” she told him. “Many are the nights I have spent upon this wall walk.”
His eyes glimmered in understanding. “I know the feeling well,” he said quietly. “I do not sleep well, either. Even now, I am exhausted from a week in the saddle but I do not know if I will be able to sleep.”
Her smile grew. “Perhaps if you stay here any length of time, you and I will keep each other sorry company on nightly walks.”
He flashed his teeth, big and straight and white. “There are worse things I can think of.”
She laughed softly, leaning against the battlement wall as a night bird sang overhead. In the still of the night, it was calm and soothing. Emberley seemed to be staring at Gart quite intently. From the expression on her face, there seemed to be more on her mind than sleepless nights.
“May I ask you a question?” she finally asked.
“Of course.”
“How much did my children steal from you?”
His smile faded and his eyebrows lifted. “Why would you ask that?”
She sighed heavily. “I know what they were doing in the entry earlier this eve,” she said softly. “You do not have to pretend. I know they were robbing you.”
He shook his head. “They did not rob me.”
She cocked her head as if she didn’t believe him. “Gart,” she lowered her voice reprovingly. “Do not lie for them. I know what they do. They do it to everyone that enters the keep.”
He chewed his lip thoughtfully and averted his gaze, leaning on the battlements just as she was. His eyes moved out over the shadowed land.
“How would you know this?”
She sighed with exasperation. “Because many visitors have told me this,” she said. “They give them money simply to keep the peace. But I make the boys give it back. If they have stolen from you, please….”
