Edward stared at him. “And Tatius is just sending us word now?”
“He has only come to realize it as of late, my lord.”
Edward remained fixed on him a moment longer before quickly standing up. “Come with me.”
Antoninus did. Edward was walking very fast and Antoninus had to practically run to keep up with him. They headed across the dusty bailey towards the main entry of Lioncross. Unlike most castles, with keeps in the center of a bailey and numerous outbuildings supporting the castle functions, Lioncross had one enormous structure in the middle of the bailey that took up most of it except for a training field to the south. The keep itself contained the hall and two big wings, including living quarters, guest quarters, various other chambers, and kitchens.
The builders of Lioncross must have assumed that the enormous walls and lake-like moat were enough protection, because the entrance was on the ground level, with big stone steps that led to the entry door. It was through this massive, fortified door that Antoninus followed Edward, into a cool foyer with two sets of mural stairs, and with the two-level great hall straight ahead.
In fact, there were men in the great hall, sitting at the end of one of the feasting tables, and Edward walked right up to them. In truth, Antoninus was somewhat hiding behind Edward, not wanting to be intruding into whatever Edward had brought him to. But Edward spoke up right away to the men at the table.
“Chris,” he said, pulling Antoninus out from behind him. “This is Antoninus de Shera, the Earl of Ellesmere’s youngest brother. He has just told me something I think you should hear.”
A very big man with sky-blue eyes, a neat blond beard, and trim blond hair that was combed back over his skull looked up, noting Antoninus. Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford andWorcester, eyed the young man, though not unkindly. There was great curiosity there, but there was also some irritation.
“Is that so?” he said, looking at Antoninus. “It must be important to interrupt my conference.”
Edward didn’t even let Antoninus speak. “Tatius de Shera is in trouble,” he said. “Let us sit and discuss this. This is something we are all going to want to hear.”
Although Christopher could have easily sent them away, he didn’t. Something in Edward’s voice told him not to. Therefore, he nodded, indicating a place at the end of the table for Antoninus. Edward sat across the table from Christopher as the man indicated the other men sitting at the table.
“This is Sir Jeffrey Kessler and Sir Max de Velt,” he said, gesturing to a big man with piercing eyes and auburn hair, and then a second man with bulging muscles and shoulder-length, dark hair. “They have served me for many years and are trustworthy. What is so important that it could not wait, young de Shera?”
Antoninus looked at the blond man. “And you, my lord?” he said. “Are you Hereford?”
Christopher’s lips twitched. “I am sorry that was not made clear to you,” he said. “Aye, I am Hereford. Tell me why you are here and do not waste my time.”
Antoninus immediately launched into his tale again, helped along by Edward. By the time he reached the end of his message, with the Rebels of Rhos, led by Nesta and her daughter, the Countess of Ellesmere, Christopher was looking at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief.
In fact, he glanced at Edward with an expression that suggested it was quite an outlandish tale, but Edward wasn’t of the same mindset. He could see Christopher’s doubt and hastened to assure him that, if true, this was a serious situation, indeed.
“Being down here in the southern end of the Marches, you would not understand the mentality of those in the north,” he said. “Rhos, Tegeingl, Pengwern were all absorbed by Gwynedd and the family of Llywelyn ap Iorwerth. I can remember even as a young man hearing rumors of rebellion from ancient kingdoms against Gwynedd, so what young Antoninus is telling us is not beyond the realm of possibility, Chris. A child born of the descendants of Rhos and Pengwern would be quite an inspiration for a rebellion against Gwynedd and also against John.”
Christopher sighed doubtfully. “But pulling de Shera into it?” he said. “They are loyal to England and have been for centuries.”
“But if Tatius has lost control of the armies, that will not matter,” Edward said. “If Atilius and Fabius are in command, and they look at this as a chance to gain lands for themselves, they could draw the de Shera armies into a rebellion against their own king.”
Christopher scratched his scalp pensively. “I know Atilius and Fabius,” he said. “I will admit that the only reason there is any believability to this tale is because those two are vipers. I have fought alongside them in a few battles, and while loyal, they do not follow orders very well. They do not like it when someone else receives glory. They have a reputation of being selfish and unpredictable.”
“Exactly,” Edward pointed out. “And if they are offered riches and lands to support a Welsh rebellion, they would do it.”
“There is something I forgot to mention,” Antoninus interrupted, watching all eyes turn in his direction. “Tatius’ mother was Welsh, from the ancient kingdom of Rhos. He is half-Welsh, which is why Nesta approached him in the first place. I do not think she expected him to be so resistant, so she spoke to the greed of Atilius and Fabius. They resent Tatius the earldom and believe they are deserving of riches, too. That iswhy I fear for Tatius… Atilius and Fabius would have no issue with killing him if they felt he was standing in their way and it is they who have pushed him into this betrothal. As long as Tatius cooperates, he is moderately safe, but he will not cooperate forever. That is why he sent me to Lioncross. He said you needed to know what was happening in the north.”
That changed the situation quite a bit. Christopher looked at Edward for a moment before emitting another sigh and rising from his seat. It was clear that he was contemplating what he’d been told, lost in thought as he paced over to the hearth that was as tall as he was. He stood there a moment, looking into the embers, a thousand thoughts whirling through his mind.
“I would assume that William Marshal knows none of this,” he said quietly.
Edward looked at Antoninus, who shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said. “William Marshal is the guardian of Nesta’s daughter. I am sure he would not have sent her to marry Tatius if he knew what he was really sending her to.”
Christopher leaned against the hearth. “Nay, he would not have,” he muttered. “You said that Nesta’s daughter is due to arrive any day at The Paladin?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“She could be there now for all we know.”
“Aye, my lord,” Antoninus said. “Once she reaches The Paladin, she will be escorted into Wales to a fortress called Mountain Dark, where the wedding will take place.”
Christopher turned to look at him. “Mountain Dark?” he repeated. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
