The gray-haired knight wriggled his eyebrows and glanced at the soldiers around him. “Nay,” he admitted reluctantly. “But you did not answer my question. Do you know him?”
Devlin replied carefully. “I have seen men I was told were his generals but Black Sword keeps himself hidden,” he said. “I was told the man is eight feet tall and breathes fire.”
That brought a grin from the gray-haired knight. “Ah, the ignorance of the Irish, and this one as big as a bull.”
The men around him laughed at Devlin’s expense. After that, they all seemed to loosen up a great deal as they came to realize that Devlin wasn’t there to do them any harm. Devlin was trying to come across as an ignorant peasant and evidently doing a good job of it from the reaction of the English. The gray-haired knight nodded his head in Emllyn’s direction.
“One of my men will take her,” he said. “As for you, I am interested in speaking with you further to discover what more you know about Black Castle.”
Devlin didn’t like that at all. He shook his head. “I will not leave the lady, m’lord,” he said as respectfully as he could. “I found her and I am responsible for her. I’ll not leave her alone with a host of English soldiers to molest her.”
The smile faded from the gray-haired knight’s lips and his eyes turned hard. “Turn her over,” he commanded. “You will come with me.”
Devlin refused and took a step back, away from a soldier who was coming for Emllyn. But the man came too close and Devlin threw out a big elbow, catching the man in the face. Blood spurted and as he fell back, a gang of soldiers rushed forward with the intention of separating him from Emllyn. As Devlin held Emllyn tightly and prepared to fight for his life, a shout from the gatehouse brought the mounting skirmish to a dead-halt.
“Cease!” a man roared. “De Ferrer, what goes on there?”
Sir George de Ferrer, the gray-haired knight, turned swiftly in the direction of the command, as did Devlin and the other soldiers. Standing just inside the gatehouse was a tall, well-dressed knight with a very finely clad woman on his arm. The gray-haired knight immediately broke away from the group and headed towards the pair.
“My lord,” he greeted politely, then bowed respectfully to the woman. “Lady Elyse. You are looking very well this day.”
The well-dressed knight spoke before the woman on his arm could respond. “What is going on?” he asked. “Who is that man? And what happened to the woman he is carrying?”
De Ferrer looked over his shoulder at Devlin, now surrounded by a host of hostile English soldiers.
“That man claims he is a farmer from the Black Castle area,” he said. “He told us that four nights ago, there was a great and terrible sea battle in which the forces of the Earl of Kildare were defeated by Black Sword. The man says that the woman in his arms washed up on shore after the battle and that she is badly injured. He also told us that she is the sister of the Earl of Kildare.”
Before the well-dressed knight could reply, the woman on his arm, the Lady Elyse, let go of his arm and swiftly made her way over to Devlin. The English soldiers gave her a wide berth, making way for her, as she came to within a few feet of Devlin. She came to a halt, then, and looked timidly at Devlin.
“I am the Lady Elyse,” she introduced herself politely. Then she gestured at Emllyn. “May I see her, please? I only wish to help.”
Devlin gazed steadily at the Englishwoman; she was short, with very blond hair and big blue eyes. She had a very polite and practiced way about her, refined and elegant, and Devlin was put at ease. He couldn’t sense anything hostile from her in the least. After a moment, he nodded stiffly, and Lady Elyse advanced.
With small, white hands, she carefully touched Emllyn’s face and lifted up an eyelid, peering at a sightless eye. Then she felt the pulse on her neck. When she was done with that, she looked up at Devlin.
“What happened to her?” she asked. “Where is she injured?”
“Her leg,” Devlin replied. “She has a wound that is poisonous. She needs help or she will die.”
Lady Elyse nodded fervently. “I will help her, have no fear,” she said, her gaze lingering on Devlin. “What is your relationship to her?”
Devlin was moderately honest, at least as much as he intended to be. “I found her,” he said. “I am responsible for her. I will not leave her alone with men I do not know or trust.”
Lady Elyse smiled faintly. “I do not blame you,” she said. “Will you trust her with me?”
“I will.”
Lady Elyse turned to the men behind her. “I will take the lady to my chamber,” she announced. “Send the surgeon to me immediately.”
At her command, men began to move. It was as if God himself had issued the order. As a soldier ran off to fetch the surgeon, the well-dressed knight who had been Lady Elyse’s escort was evidently uncomfortable with what she was suggesting. He sought to plead with her.
“Your chamber?” he repeated. “We could put her in the servant’s quarters just as well. She does not need to be in your chamber.”
Lady Elyse turned to him. “She is very ill,” she said, seriously but sweetly. “I must tend her and you would not want me spending an inordinate amount of time in the servant’s quarters, would you?”
The man was trapped. He cleared his throat unhappily. “Of course not,” he said. “Butyourchamber?”
Lady Elyse waved him off as she walked past him, turning to motion Devlin to follow. “Bring her along,” she told him. “Hurry, now. There is no time to waste.”
