William sighed heavily, indicative of the sadness he was feeling. He looked at Scott, who had a more in-depth knowledge of Gar’s injuries, which were extensive.
Extensive and potentially fatal.
“He is not well,” Scott said. “The blade cut into the right side of his torso and was buried deep. It punctured innards and diddamage. But the worst part is this—we’ve known the Scots to wipe their blades with feces on occasion and we think this blade was one of them, for the poison set in almost immediately. Gar has been quite ill since it happened and my mother and I have been working extensively to ensure that the poison does not kill him. Other than that, all we can do is pray.”
It was grim news, something none of them wanted to hear. Andreas, in particular, was devastated and he kept flicking tears from his eyes. Reed, who had been recalled from Hell’s Guardhouse, and another brother, Corey, were equally upset. They wouldn’t even wipe their tears away as Andreas was doing, letting them run down their faces or drip off their chins like some macabre badge of honor. On the dais, Troy stood next to his brother, stoic and morose. He was a moody man to begin with, and the wounding of his eldest son with Rhoswyn, his shining star, was not sitting well with him.
He wanted blood.
“And that is why you have all been summoned,” Troy said, his jaw twitching with emotion. “Westerkirk started this when they murdered two English knights, but now they have tried to murder my son. My wife’s father, whom you all know to be Red Keith Kerr, has told us that Westerkirk was helped in this attack against Gleann na Fola by the Maxwell of Davington and Merrylaw. It seems that Ean Maxwell’s lies did not convince other clans that he sought assistance from, according to Keith, so others will not face my wrath. In fact, they have my gratitude for not answering. However, as we speak, Red Keith’s men are moving to form a net around Westerkirk so that any Maxwell who try to escape will be caught. We will move our armies up the Valley of Blood and sweep into Westerkirk from the south and destroy Bailie Castle once and for all. If we can capture Ean Maxwell alive, then we shall, because I intend to make anexample out of him. The man wanted blood. He is going to get it, and it is going to be his own.”
Determined words from a grieving father, but no one in the room disagreed with him. That was what they’d all come for and it was time to finish the job.
“Then we must be prepare to move out before dawn,” Thomas said, his loud voice lifting to the group of seasoned men. “Ryston, you and your brother will take the lead. I fear that the rest of us may be too emotional about the situation, so you will organize the front line and send out scouts. Westerkirk managed to evade our scouts before, so make sure they do not evade yours. We need to know where they are and what they are doing, and you will make contact with Red Keith and his men. Coordinate information.”
Ryston and Dalton, sons of the great Torston de Royans and part of the powerful de Royans family, nodded smartly. They were seasoned knights with plenty of battle experience, so they understood the assignment well. After that, Thomas’ attention moved to John de Longley.
John was a big man, not particularly tall, but strong and noble. He was well liked by everyone and had the heart of a warrior, something his father had, but something that had evaded his grandfather and other men in the family. Most of his ancestors had been politicians, not soldiers. When he saw Thomas’ attention, he put his hand on the hilt of his sword, indicating his readiness.
“Whatever you desire, my lord,” he said. “Command me.”
“Commandme.”
Another voice came from the hall entry and everyone turned to see something that had been a staple of the wars in the north for decades. It drew smiles from some, looks of annoyance from others. Paris de Norville, the former captain of Northwood’s armies, approached the dais. Seeing his grandfather, Atreusjoined him, both of them coming to stand next to John, who was technically their liege.
Except Paris was in charge.
At least, he thought he was.
“Now,” Paris said, looking at the de Wolfe men before him. “You will commandme. I’ve brought a thousand Northwood men here and I intend to tear up Westerkirk until there is nothing left to tear. I will cut off heads and put them on pikes for all to see. I will fillet their hides from their bodies and plaster them across every clan village from Lockerbie to Coldstream. I will send a message that if one more English knight is murdered by Scots dogs, then I will burn up the north and leave no survivors. Well? Command me to do it and I shall. What are you waiting for?”
He meant every word. Paris de Norville was a legend almost as much as William was and the pair had been friends since their youth. They were brothers in every way but blood and any affront to William was an affront to Paris. He was also as old as William was, and his health hadn’t been the best as of late, but his pride was monumental so in a situation like this, there was no possibility he was going to stay out of it.
He was out for vengeance.
And the knights knew it. Scott, Troy, Blayth, Thomas, and their siblings had all grown up with Uncle Paris. Two of them had married into the de Norville family, so Paris truly was their kin. Much like William, Paris was far too old to be riding to battle, but it was something that was part of their very fabric. Old knights couldn’t shirk their duties and age didn’t matter.
But it did.
No one was quite sure how to convince the elderly knights to remain behind.
“Your presence here is revered, Uncle Paris,” Thomas finally said, trying to be diplomatic. “You know we cannot go into battle without you.”
Paris puffed up, feeling appreciated. “As long as you know that,” he said. “Now, what would you have from Northwood’s army?”
Thomas glanced at John, who simply shrugged. There was no getting around Paris’s thinking he was in charge. “Northwood will form the center of the army, of course,” Thomas said. “But I need you to speak with my father so that a strategy will be worked out. Meanwhile, the other knights will prepare the army while we wait for your direction. Will you do this?”
Of course Paris would. He was being asked to direct a battle and he would do just that. As he headed over toward William, Thomas began waving at the knights, silently commanding them to hurry outside while the old men conferred. That way, the elderly knights were out of the way and the real work with the army could begin.
With a purpose, the men headed outside.
As William and Paris began to talk strategy, Thomas took Blayth outside with him and the other de Wolfe knights to begin forming their ranks. That left Scott and Troy alone, standing near the table where William and Paris were sitting. The hall, so full of knights in armor not moments before, was now oddly still and silent.
It was a painful, fragile silence.
“I’m going to return to Gar for a while,” Scott told his brother quietly. “Will you come with me?”
Troy had been staring at the entry door, watching his sons as they filtered out with the rest of the knights. He heard his brother’s question and it shook his composure a little.
