“Then I am sorry for you,” he said. “I will permit you to know how the lady is faring, then. But after you stay here tonight,you will return home. There is no longer any need for your presence.”
That wasn’t a directive that Devlin wanted to hear. He decided to swallow his pride completely and open himself up, hoping they’d let him stay. He didn’t want to leave Emllyn and the very thought was causing him tremendous grief.
“But… I can be of help to you here,” he said eagerly. “I am strong; I can shoe horses or help in the kitchens. I can butcher animals or tend the horses. As I told you, my crops are seedlings and I have no more income for a while. With the Irish raiding my fields, I have almost nothing left. I would be a good worker, m’lord, I swear it.”
De Noble’s gaze lingered on him a moment before he turned his attention to de Ferrer and Connaught. He smiled faintly as he toyed with his cup.
“Heisa big one,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind using him as a body guard. I would imagine he’d be fairly formidable in a fight.”
De Ferrer and Connaught looked at Devlin from across the table, each man studying him. Devlin could feel their stares, the hostility, perhaps the jealousy or curiosity. It was difficult to get a read. He was trying to look hopeful and not look intimidating, which was a difficult stretch. He hated being at the mercy of the damnable English, begging them for a job. It was to gain information, that was true, but more than that, he realized he didn’t want to be separated from Emllyn, not even for an hour. Already, it was killing him and it hadn’t even been that long. All he wanted to do was go back and sit by her bed just to be near her. It was a stunning realization but a powerful one nonetheless.
He simply didn’t want to be without her.
“Can you fight?” de Ferrer asked, breaking into his thoughts.
Devlin pushed aside images of Emllyn and focused on the older knight. “I can use me fists and feet,” he said. “I’ve been known to brawl.”
“Have you ever fought for the rebellion?” Connaught fired at him. “Have you ever joined your kinsmen in taking up arms against the English?”
Devlin looked at the man, studying him a moment. There was something brash and fiery about him. “I have never fought for the rebellion,” he said. It was the truth; he hadledthe rebellion. “And who are you to ask me? I detect Irish in you, lad. So you take up arms for the English and fight against your countrymen?”
Those were hostile words as far as Connaught was concerned. He bolted to his feet, hand on the hilt of his sword in threat. “You will not question my loyalty, you lowly whoreskin,” he snarled. “I am an English knight and you are shite beneath my feet.”
“Sit down, Chris,” de Noble held out a hand to him, easing the young man back into his seat. “He didn’t mean it as an accusation. It was merely a question.”
Connaught wasn’t happy in the least. He hissed his displeasure and plopped down in his seat, unwilling to participate in the conversation any longer. De Noble’s attention dwelt on the man for a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to rise up and charge their guest before returning his focus to Devlin. His expression seemed to harden.
“Connaught is a legacy knight for de Cleveley,” he said. “He was born in Ireland and his heritage is Irish, but his family is sworn to de Cleveley. His father and father before him served as ambassadors for de Cleveley here in Ireland.”
The worst kind of Irishman as far as Devlin was concerned. Traitors to their own country. Devlin couldn’t help the look of contempt he gave Connaught, who fortunately wasn’t looking athim. If he had, there might have been punches thrown at the very least. Devlin eventually returned his focus to de Noble.
“You have many Irish here that serve you,” he said. “Allow me to serve you as well. You have been helpful and kind in assisting the injured lady and I owe you me gratitude. At least let me repay you your kindness.”
De Noble sat there a moment and gazed at him. It was clear he was contemplating something. With a long sigh, he moved to pour himself more wine. He also poured more in Devlin’s cup even though Devlin hadn’t touched it since the last time he’d filled it. Now, they were getting down to business.
“If you want to show your gratitude, then I have a proposition for you,” de Noble said. “You claim you have been to Black Castle and, presumably, the people at Black Castle know you as a farmer. You can move easily in and out of Black Castle and no one would question or suspect you. John, we have been at war against Black Sword for quite some time. He is a great battle commander and men naturally follow him. However, it has been our suspicion for some time that Devlin de Bermingham is gathering the clanns to launch a massive attack against Glenteige. When you told us that you had seen O’Connor troops there, that only confirmed our suspicions. My proposition to you is this– if you return to Black Castle and gather information about what Black Sword is planning against us, I will let you return to see your lady friend. I will even let you spend time with her. But you would be far more help to us inside of Black Castle, seeing what Black Sword is up to, than you would be here shoeing horses or butchering pigs. Will you do this for us, John? Will you do this for your lady friend who will undoubtedly be in danger should Black Sword lay siege to our settlement? There is information I must know and I think you are the perfect man to get it.”
Devlin was stunned by the proposal. His first reaction was to laugh at the suggestion but he wisely kept his reaction suppressed; of all of the tasks or questions or proposals, he had been asked to spy on himself!
It was nearly too much for him to bear but in the same breath, he realized that he could beautifully manipulate the situation if he had de Noble’s trust. But he would very carefully have to temper what information he gave the man because if they discovered who he was and of his treachery, then they would logically suspect that Emllyn was a part of it. It would reflect horribly on her.
Nay; that couldn’t happen. In order to keep Emllyn safe, Devlin would have to be extraordinarily careful. He could hardly believe how twisted and complex the situation had become. He had set out to make Emllyn as spy on his behalf and now, he was to become a spy for the English.
The tides had turned on him and it would take a calm and intelligent man not to be caught in a trap of his own making. This was a chance of a lifetime and he truthfully had no other recourse than to take it. He was in deep and it would only get deeper.
“Aye,” he said after a moment, with a hint of reluctance. “I will do it. To keep the lady safe, I would do anything.”
De Noble’s expression was as close to triumphant as the emotionless man could get. “Excellent,” he said. “Then let us eat and drink to celebrate our new association. I will send a servant up to see how the lady fares but on the morrow, you will set out for Black Castle.”
Devlin didn’t feel much like talking after that and he pushed the alcohol away so he wouldn’t drink anymore. He tended to get moody when he’d had too much to drink and he didn’t want to do or say anything that might jeopardize everything. The Englishknights, however, were quite willing to drink to excess and eat. Devlin simply sat in silence and watched them.
A servant was sent to see to Emllyn’s welfare and returned some time later to say that the lady was asleep and that Lady Elyse was watching over her. It was the only bit of news Devlin received and it did not make him happy. As the evening wore on, he became increasingly unhappy and morose as the feasting English continued into the night.
By midnight, he had shifted to a seat by the massive hearth, surrounded by farting and snoring English dogs, wondering what in the hell he had gotten himself in to.
*
When Emllyn openedher eyes, it was dark in the chamber except for the glow of the firelight.
