The priest stood up from the chair, wiping a linen towel over his freshly shaved head. He eyed Julian, annoyed with the request but understanding he had a duty to the man. If someone was holding his wife hostage, then it was up to the Church to deliver her to her rightful husband. There was no great mystery in that. He tossed the towel aside.
“How long has she been de Lohr’s captive?” he asked.
“Weeks, at the very least, Your Grace,” Julian said pleadingly. “Please help me, Your Grace. I must return her home. Our children need her.”
The priest held out his hands as his servants began shoving on his rings of office.
“I will send a missive to Bellham and ask that the lady be returned to you,” he said. “You will deliver the missive yourself.”
Julian shook his head. “They will kill me, Your Grace,” he said, feigning fear. “I fear they will only release her to a priest when they are forced. I fear that only your divine presence will give me back my wife. Please, Your Grace– will you please help me and go personally?”
The priest sighed heavily, fiddling with his rings once they were on. He turned to Julian, thinking that he simply didn’t have time for such nonsense. But the man seemed genuinely distraught so perhaps he needed to do as he was asked simply to get it over with. Otherwise, the situation would drag on and Mellitus would be to blame, especially if the circumstances went from bad to worse.
“Very well,” he said, clipped. “I will travel to Bellham Place and retrieve your wife for you.”
Julian nearly collapsed with relief. “Thank you, Your Grace,” he bowed several times in a gesture of gratitude and respect. “May I ride with you? I want to take my wife home right away.”
Mellitus simply nodded, sneezing and wiping at his nose with a linen towel. “We will go before Vespers.”
“Today?” Julian asked hopefully.
Mellitus looked at Julian, struggling to keep the impatience off his face. “Aye, today.”
Julian left the canon’s quarters and took position out in the garden with a clear view of the man’s cottage. He remained rooted there until the man was ready to leave for Bellham.
De Lohr would pay now. They would all pay.
*
Gart let Emberleysleep the next day well into the morning. She was exhausted and pregnant, and after her harrowing adventures, he thought it best simply to let her rest.
Emilie tried to insist that she would take care of Lady Emberley so that Gart could go about his duties, but Gart wasn’t going to relinquish the task. It made for a warm, if not odd, standoff as Emilie insisted and Gart politely refused. When Romney finally awoke, Gart saw the opportunity to focus Emilie on the child, which she did so happily. With Christina and Romney in hand, Emilie took delight in tending the children.
Gart did indeed have duties to attend to but he spent most of the morning with Emberley as she slumbered peacefully. Sitting in a chair by the low fire in the hearth, he quietly sharpened his sword against a pumice stone, alternately watching Emberley and paying attention to his blade.
He was content simply sitting with her. She was safe and in his line of sight, and that was all he could ask for in the world. She slept the morning away as he finished sharpening his blade and, finished, quit the chamber with the intention of returning to his possessions for other assorted blades that needed sharpening. He could sit and sharpen, and watch Emberley at the same time.
He took the stairs down to the ground floor, hearing voices from the reception room. He could hear Romney’s voice and that of a squealing baby, so he crept to the door and peered inside to see Romney playing with little Christina. The baby was thrilled with Romney, laughing hysterically as he pretended to poke her belly. Emilie sat nearby with sewing in hand, smiling at the antics.
Gart grinned as he watched Romney and the baby, thinking how much he missed Orin, Brendt and Lacy. Those two little ruffians and the slobbery baby had his heart. His plan had been to send Kevin to retrieve the children but David quashed that scheme because he wanted Kevin to remain at Bellham for the time being, especially with Buckland so unpredictable.
With plans changed, Gart intended to send ten of his own men to Trelystan to collect the children, men that the children were already familiar with thanks to their stay at Dunster. It was something he intended to do before the day was out. He wanted the rest of the children with him and Emberley as quickly as possible.
As Gart moved away from the door frame, Romney apparently saw the movement and jumped up, running to the door. He caught sight of Gart just as the man was entering the corridor that led to the kitchens.
“Gart!” he yelled. “May I please come with you?”
Gart paused in the archway, giving the boy a half-grin and waving a big arm at him, indicating for the boy to follow. Romney bolted after him happily.
He followed Gart out into the rear yards behind the kitchen where a staircase led down into the basement armory. It was a warm day, moist, and the summer bugs were thick in the trees overhead.
As Gart descended the stairs to the basement, Romney kicked dirt around, picked up rocks and threw them in the fish pond, and then began throwing rocks at the soldiers on duty. One man was hit in the neck and turned around to yell at Romney until he saw Forbes. The soldier quickly moved the other direction.
Triumphant, Romney followed Gart down into the armory and immediately began touching everything he could get his hands on. As Gart sheathed his broadsword, he noticed Romney and his five hundred hands.
“Leave well enough alone,” he told the boy, motioning him over. “Come and help me with this.”
Romney went to him obediently, noticing Gart’s familiar bags. Be it instinct or habit, he immediately began to rummage through Gart’s bags.
