“You did not disappoint me. But you did surprise me.”
Having nothing more to say, Gart wearily quit the room. David’s gaze lingered on the doorway even after the man’s bootfalls faded away, wondering what he could possibly do to help his knight. Any possibility he could come up with wasn’t particularly pleasant. Perhaps his brother would have a better idea when he arrived.
Until then, he did the only thing he could think to do– he sent de Lara into London to summon the same priest who had baptized Christina. Father Jonas St. John was a priest at St. Bartholomew’s, well respected and rigidly opposed to the king and his bawdy lifestyle. David had found an odd ally in the priestback in the days when his daughter was newly born. He held a great respect for the man’s opinion.
As Kevin rode from the heavily guarded gates of Bellham, David went in search of Gart only to find the man sleeping the sleep of the dead with his mail still on, laying haphazardly across a bed in a room just off of the kitchen. David peered closer and noticed a half-eaten chunk of bread in the man’s hand. He had been so exhausted he hadn’t even finished it. With a grin, David closed the door and told the cook to let no one disturb him.
Gart would need all of his strength for the biggest battle yet to come.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“His name isKevin de Lara and his father is Viscount Trelystan,” Donnell told Julian. “His father is Warden of the Trinity Castles on the Welsh Marches.”
Julian’s eyebrows lifted. “The Trinity Castles?” he repeated. Then he looked thoughtful. “I have heard of them. De Lara.De Lara. Where have I heard that name?”
“Sean de Lara, Kevin’s elder brother, is a personal protector to King John.”
Julian’s expression widened with both surprise and recognition. “The Shadow Lord?”
“The same, m’lord. John’s deadliest knight.”
Julian nodded his head, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he rose from his chair. It was a bright morning the day after his beating at the hands of David de Lohr, and his face was bruised and tender. He had tried to eat soft foods for breakfast but because of the two broken teeth he had suffered, he was too sore to eat anything. His mood had been foul until Donnell’s early morning visit with news obtained on Kevin de Lara.
“Who gave you this information?” Julian wanted to know.
Donnell shifted wearily on his legs. He had been up most of the night finding out what he could about Kevin de Lara. Some of his professional demeanor began to slip.
“I have spent the night moving through taverns known to be patronized by knights from Arundel, Norfolk and other alliedbarons,” he told Julian. “I went to the Pig and Flute over near the docks as well as the Bloody Fist in the Kingsbury District.”
Julian nodded, interrupting him. “I know it,” he waved a hand, moving to the table laden with food he had not been able to eat. “I have been to both of those establishments.”
Donnell eyed him, irritated at having been interrupted. “I found two of Rochester’s men at the Fist, knights I have gone to battle with in the past. As a senior sergeant for Buckland, one of the knights recognized me and showed me a measure of respect. We spoke casually for a time and I brought up the subject of de Lohr. It was this knight who told me of Kevin de Lara and how he does not speak to his brother because the man serves the king as his personal bodyguard. De Lara’s family was a strong supporter of Richard before his death. The fact that the elder son has given loyalties to the prince does not please them.”
Julian was trying to chew on a piece of very soft white bread. “What else did he tell you of Kevin de Lara?”
Donnell shrugged, watching Julian as the man tried to eat. He was hungry, too, along with being exhausted but he knew that Buckland would not offer to share his food. Julian was not a generous man.
“Nothing more than what I have told you,” he said. “De Lara’s father holds the Trinity Castles on the Marches and his brother is the Shadow Lord.”
Julian swallowed a piece of bread and gingerly took another bite. “Find out exactly where the Trinity Castles are,” he said with a piece of bread hanging out of his mouth. “I know they are on the Marches but I do not know precisely where. Perhaps de Lara took her there.”
Donnell scratched wearily at his head. “It would be as good a place to start as any, I suppose. Even if she is not there, perhaps his father knows something.”
“You will find out and you will go there immediately.”
“Aye, m’lord. Is there anything else?”
“Nay. Leave me.”
Donnell turned on his heel and quit the room, thinking more of sleep and food than of a trip to the Marches. He would find out where the Trinity Castles were located and he would go there to see if he could find the errant Lady Emberley de Moyon. Although he was detached from the situation as much as he could be, a large part of him did not blame the woman for fleeing her husband. He had seen first-hand what Julian could do to his wife. He was a brutal bastard when the mood struck him. Donnell himself had been on the receiving end of a few of Julian’s mood swings so he understood Lady de Moyon’s pain well.
As he settled down in the bunkhouse of the tower, food in one hand and cheap ale in the other, he was coming to think that maybe he would simply ride in circles for the next few weeks and return to London to tell de Moyon that he could not find his wife. It was a foolish thought but one he entertained. If Donnell thought long and hard about it, he could remember the look of terror on Lady de Moyon’s face when he had come for her at Dunster. Donnell was coming to suspect that no knight had a hand in her disappearance– the woman had probably fled on her own out of sheer terror.
More than likely, she was lost to the wilds of Somerset or Cornwall, victim of bandits or fodder for wild animals. It was a better fate than coming to live with her husband in London. Still, Donnell would ride to the Marches to investigate the Trinity Castles for himself, simply because he had been ordered to and not because he had a strong inclination to find the woman. He would do his diligence in a futile effort and be done with it.
Donnell fell asleep without having finished his meal.
*
