In the distance, Katryne screamed as she was unceremoniously tossed onto the back of a horse. Lady Holland yelped at the sight of her manhandled charge.
“But she does not want to go!” Lady Holland gasped. “Why must you take her now? Can we not bring her later in a carriage and with proper chaperones?”
The Warwick soldier shook his head. “Her brother may not live long enough for that, my lady,” he said, moving in the direction of his men as they secured Lady Katryne atop one of the horses. “He is dying, my lady. He wishes to see his sister. You must allow her to go to him.”
Lady Holland scurried after the soldier, out of her front door and across the grassy garden that comprised the front of her manor home. It had been a wet spring so far and the bottom of her fine silk gown soaked up the mud as she ran.
“But… but…!” she cried, trying to stop what could not be stopped. “This is completely improper for the young lady to ride unchaperoned with a gang of soldiers! This simply will not do!”
The Warwick soldier suddenly came to a halt. “Whether or not it will do makes no difference to me,” he said, his manner suddenly not so polite. “We are taking the girl and you cannot stop us. She will be well treated and I personally guarantee that she will not be molested or harassed. Warwick has ordered me to bring her and that is exactly what I intend to do. Good day, Lady Holland.”
With that, he turned away, swiftly, jogging off across the muddy grassy until he reached his horse. He mounted swiftly as Lady Holland ran after him, waving her hands and screaming for them to stop. Katryne’s loud and fearful weeping did nothing to ease the old woman’s anxiety and she finally came to a halt in her running, watching the group of soldiers as they thundered off the same way they had come, joining up with the road and then disappearing when the road moved into a thick cluster of trees to the north.
She lost sight of them, then, and for a moment, Lady Holland simply stood there, gasping and shrieking, terrified thather young ward was in great danger. But she didn’t have the manpower to stop Warwick’s men, prevent them, or even to fight them. She didn’t even have enough men to follow them.
Fearful that she had just let Lady Katryne St. John go off to her death, Lady Holland stood there and screamed.
~ A TIME OF HOPE ~
CHAPTER TWENTY
Early April
Kenton had neverpaid an overabundance of attention to the weather unless it had to do with planning battles, but he had little else to do in his chamber prison than stare from the window and sometimes watch the sky, and today was no exception. The weather was surprisingly pleasant, away from the freezing temperatures they’d suffered as of late, and the sun that streamed in through the lancet window was actually warm. He stood in it, warming his body, basking in the heat.
He’d started counting the days since Saxilby told him Nicola was coming to Conisbrough. He’d marked them on the wall near the door, using a chip of wood he’d pulled off the bed frame.Six days.It had been six days since he’d been told Nicola was coming. Six long days to plan what he was going to say to her. Six long days that saw him torn between simply accepting her actions and berating her for them.
But berating wasn’t in his nature, at least not in this case. He would keep his dignity and not lower himself to bellowing at her, telling her exactly what he thought of her betrayal. Telling herjust how much she had hurt him.Someone poisoned her against me, he kept reminding himself. She’d said as much. But what Kenton very much wanted to know was who had poisoned her.
Whodid it?
Try as he might not to dwell on that question, it was forefront in his mind. As he stood by the small lancet window in his usual place, thinking on Nicola and her betrayal and who could have turned her against him, he thought back to more pleasant days, of days watching Tab fish with three lines or of watching Teague as the child tried to throw a pair of bone dice and threw them right into the blazing hearth. He chuckled when he remembered Gerik trying to fish the dice out of the embers with his bare hands. He would yell in pain and the boys would scream with laughter. All these memories, so many memories for so short a time, filled his brain. He’d never known distraction such as this, but lovely distraction it was.
Kenton was wrapped up in his thoughts, so much so that he didn’t hear or notice when the bustle in the bailey grew. Men began shouting and calling to one another, and the great portcullis of Conisbrough Castle lifted to admit visitors. There were several hundred of them, including a lady, and the big bailey of Conisbrough was soon chaotic with activity.
Kenton was usually attuned to what was going on in the bailey below but this time, he simply wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps it was because he was thinking of the time that Tab, trying to compete with the knights, belched so loudly that he ended up vomiting. It still made Kenton laugh to think of it. Or perhaps it was because he was remembering the feel of Nicola’s flesh in his hands. He was distracted, to be sure, and unaware that, four stories below him, the object of his obsession had arrived.
Nicola had come to Conisbrough.
*
“My castle appearsintact,” St. John said as he politely led Nicola inside the keep of Conisbrough Castle, followed closely by Saxilby, Conor, and several other men. “I am glad to see that you did not burn it down or let it fall into enemy hands while I was away.”
Saxilby gave him a humorless purse of the lips. “Careful, St. John,” he said. “You are bordering on slander. The lady will have a bad impression of me before we have formally met.”
Nicola had been listening to the banter between St. John and a short, gray-haired man but she was more interested in Conisbrough as a whole and where, in fact, Kenton was located in this mammoth maze of walls and rooms. Their trip from Babylon had been uneventful in surprisingly good weather and now that they had arrived, Nicola had one thing on her mind and she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to see Kenton immediately.
The entire ride from Babylon had been filled with angst for Kenton, mostly for his safety. She had frightened herself into thinking that he might be slated for execution, creating terrifying fantasies about Kenton being executed without her knowledge or before she could tell him how sorry she was for misunderstanding his words. Itwasa misunderstanding, for based upon her conversation with Conor the day that Babylon fell back into Edward’s hands, it could not have been anything else. Fearful, and vulnerable, and feeling emotion she had never felt before, she had heard Kenton’s words and believed the worst. At least, that was what she wanted to tell him. She didn’t blame the man if he never spoke to her again.
Therefore, as St. John led the group into a rather large solar with a large, sooty fireplace and expensive rugs upon the floor, Nicola came to a halt just inside the doorway and faced both St.John and the gray-haired man. Mostly, she was looking at the gray-haired man who was about her height.
“I am Lady Thorne,” she said to him. “We have not been introduced.”
Saxilby smiled at the very beautiful young woman. “Lord Saxilby at your service, Lady Thorne,” he said. “May I say that you were extremely brave to send the missive to us regarding Kenton le Bec’s movements. Without you, we could not have captured the man or eased Manchester and Babylon from his grip. We owe you much.”
Nicola had no time for the man’s gratitude, reminding her of her treachery as it did. “Where is Sir Kenton?” she asked.
If Saxilby thought her tone was rather curt, he didn’t let on. He pointed to the ceiling of the chamber. “Up there,” he said. “He is locked in a chamber awaiting transport to London.”
