Kenton was in the process of directing the soldiers in the construction of some make-shift shelters. He had a huge plank of wood in his hands, one that would have normally required two men to carry it. But Kenton handled the bulk easily. He turned to Gerik impatiently.
“What is it?” he asked.
Gerik was hoping for privacy but saw he would receive none. To ask for a confidential word would have been to irritate his already strained liege and this conversation, as it was, would not be an easy one. Therefore, he took a deep breath and proceeded.
“Lady Thorne wishes for me to tell you that she cannot help the surgeon,” he said.
Kenton planted the beam vertically as a few soldiers moved in to secure it. “What do you mean?”
Gerik was hesitant to tell him the rest but he had no choice. “She says you have not personally given her permission to leave her chamber,” he said. “Therefore, she cannot help the surgeon. She suggests….”
Kenton cast him a baleful eye. He was almost afraid of what he was about to hear. “Pray, what does she suggest?”
Gerik winced. “That if you want it done, then do it yourself.”
Kenton stared at him. Then, his gaze trailed to the keep and he wiped his hands off on his tunic. “Is that what she said?”
“Word for word, my lord.”
That confirmation was all it took to send Kenton back across the bailey, heading for the keep. Gerik watched his liege crossthe muddy ward and up the articulated wooden stairs that led into the keep. He shook his head, sorry for the foolish Lady Thorne. The woman was in as fine a mood as Kenton was and, very shortly, there would be a great battle going on in the keep. Personally, he did not envy Kenton.
Kenton, however, did not envy Lady Thorne. The woman was as difficult as any he had ever encountered and, once again, he tried to keep his irritation in check as he entered the great hall, mounting the steps to the third floor. He could hear Warwick in the master chamber, talking to his advisors. By the time he hit the alcove on the fourth level, his irritation had been given time to build into a righteous fury. It seemed as if all the woman ever did was provoke fury in him. Fury and interest. As he approached the open chamber door that led to the Thorne rooms beyond, the first thing he saw was Teague, jumping out at him.
“Knight!” he said happily. “I have weaponsth, lots of weaponsth. See them?”
Kenton stopped so quickly that he nearly lost his balance. Only quick reflexes had saved Teague from being run over. The little boy was thrusting something up at him and Kenton saw that he had a handful of small wooden knights in one palm and several sharp sticks in the other.
“Where is your mother?” Kenton asked.
Teague pointed a full hand in the direction of the adjoining chamber. “In there,” he said. “But how do you like my weaponsth? I made them mythelf.”
He was referring to the sharp sticks, spears for his toy soldiers. Kenton had no time for such nonsense but that strange tugging in his chest again told him not to brush the boy off so easily. He was so innocent, something Kenton could barely remember. Innocence was for the very young, and sometimes, not even for them.
“Your weapons are fine.” He didn’t know what else to say. Moving past the child, he nearly bowled over the mother who had just appeared in the adjoining doorway.
Nicola patted her chest to restart her heart. “My lord, you gave me a start,” she said. “I heard your voice and was just coming to see you.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “A word, Madam.”
“Of course.”
“Alone.”
She laughed ironically. “These are small rooms, my lord. With eight people about, this is as private as it gets.”
He drew in a long, irritated sigh. Taking her by the arm, more gently than he had earlier in the day, he once again led her to the stairs and down to the third floor. They again headed into the children’s former chamber, which now had evidently become their personal meeting room. Kenton quietly closed the door and turned to Nicola.
“Now,” he growled. “I have had just about enough of this.”
She knew what he was talking about but she was not about to back down. She was still furious from his treatment of her that morning and had every intention of letting him know it.
“Enough of what, my lord?” she asked innocently.
“Do not toy with me,” he jabbed a huge finger at her. “You know exactly what I mean. I send Gerik up here to issue a simple command and even after your promises of obedience, you cannot abide by my wishes. It has been a battle with you since the moment I first lay eyes on you and I will have no more of it.”
She was unaffected by his irritation. “There has been no battle, my lord. I have done everything you have asked.”
“Christ,” he slapped a hand to his forehead in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. “You have done what I have asked, aye, but not without struggle, insolence, and purepetulance. I threw you in the vault once before for your behavior and I have no qualms about doing it again.”
