Now, it would be to save her… from hermother?
It was a truly astonishing thought. Kress found himself inspecting the Earl of Ellesmere, curious about him even beyond his surprise appearance and the message he bore. This was the soon-to-be husband of Cadelyn, and a more pathetic specimen he’d never seen. The man had the look of the hunted about him, a truly sad state, but with what he was hearing, that countenance made a good deal of sense.
It seemed there was much going on at The Paladin that William Marshal didn’t know about.
“Do you feel strong enough to tell us the rest, my lord?” Kress asked after watching the earl down his drink.
Tatius nodded, greatly fortified by the alcohol now filling his veins. “Aye,” he said, looking to the knights around the table. “To tell you what you need to know, I must start at the beginning. My mother was Welsh, part of the ancient kingdom of Rhos. Because of that, we have always had ties to the princes in the north of Wales. Some time ago, a woman calling herself Nesta ferch Madog, or even Nesta of Vendotia, came to me as a distant cousin to speak of a betrothal with her daughter, who was a ward of William Marshal. She promised me lands in Wales near Conwy, and a rather large dowry should I agree. I was uncertain, but my brothers were bewitched by the lure of lands and riches,it was they who convinced me to send word to William Marshal about a betrothal between myself and Nesta’s daughter.”
Kress’ suspicions about Nesta had been confirmed. “So shedidcome to you about her daughter,” he said. “She told us that you had informedherof the lady.”
Tatius shook his head. “Untrue,” he said. “She was the one to tell me of her daughter and she suggested the betrothal, which my brothers pushed me into. They are greedy for the riches promised to them, but those riches have a price.”
“What price?” Kress asked.
Tatius lifted a dark eyebrow. “The most expensive kind,” he said. “The House of de Shera must help the group that calls themselves the Rebels of Rhos to revolt against their Gwynedd overlords and, subsequently, English rule. If you recall, John’s daughter, Joan, married the last Prince of Wales in Llywelyn, so a revolt against Gwynedd would be a revolt against the king. Nesta’s daughter, as a full-blooded Welsh princess, will be used to inspire the rebellion and lead it. They expect her to lead them to victory and the House of de Shera right along with it.”
By this time, the knights were looking at him in shock. Now, the entire sordid story was coming out and they were having difficulty comprehending such a wild tale. As they sat there and mulled over the horrifying future as Tatius presented it, Achilles lifted his voice.
“That was why that woman was so shocked when Lady Cadelyn told her she was English,” he hissed at Kress. “Do you remember that? Did you see how she looked at Lady Cadelyn? As if she was…”
“A traitor,” Kress finished for him. He was starting to feel sick to his stomach but, in the same breath, everything he thought odd about the appearance of Atilius and Fabius de Shera suddenly made sense. He looked at Tatius. “My lord, your brothers wanted to take the lady today. Right now, in fact. Shehas been slightly ill, so we were able to convince them otherwise, but something tells me they may not wait if they have an entire Welsh rebellion planned around her.”
Tatius drained the last of his second cup of ale. “Their plan is for the lady to marry me so that she is the Countess of Ellesmere, and then she shall lead the rebels, and the de Shera army, into a great rebellion.”
Kress shook his head. “But she is not a battle commander,” he said, struggling not to sound emotional. “She is a woman of accomplishment, but warfare is not among her talents. Do they truly expect her to lead them to victory?”
Tatius was pouring himself more drink. “It is the idea of her more than it is actually the lady herself,” he said. “She is a daughter of Rhos, a child of two kingdoms, a true Welsh royal offspring. You say that she has met Nesta?”
Kress nodded. “She has.”
“How did the introduction go?”
Kress shook his head. “She was polite, but Nesta came on very strongly with talk of her heritage,” he said. “The lady told Nesta that she’d had no knowledge of her true heritage until a few years ago and considered herself English.”
Tatius grunted. “Nesta is a zealot,” he said. “She has been waiting years for her daughter to lead this rebellion because I truly believe that Owain knew of his wife’s plans, as I said, and gave their daughter over to William Marshal to keep her away from Nesta. If Lady Cadelyn does not go along with Nesta’s plans, it could cost her everything. Even her life.”
The words were ominously spoken and Kress was nearly beside himself with distress. He looked at Alexander to see what his opinion was on all of this only to see that Alexander was looking at Tatius with a serious expression on his face, clearly a man with a dilemma on his mind. When Alexander noticed Kress looking at him, he drew in a sharp breath and began torub the bridge of his nose as if fighting off an aching head. For certain, information like this was enough to cause anyone to have an aching head.
And more.
“My lord, surely you realize this puts us in a very bad position,” Alexander said. “We have been instructed to deliver Lady Cadelyn to you.”
Tatius nodded with regret. “I know,” he said. “But I have come to tell you that you cannot. You cannot deliver her to The Paladin, nor can you let my brothers take charge of her. If you do… very bad things will happen; to me, to her, to everyone involved. You must take her as far away as you can.”
Alexander was at a loss. “Then what do we tell The Marshal?” he asked. “He will want to know why we have not completed our directive.”
Tatius leaned across the table, pressing something into Alexander’s palm. Alexander looked down to see that Tatius had given him his signet ring.
“Take that to William Marshal,” Tatius said when Alexander looked up at him questioningly. “Tell him that I release the lady from the contract. The betrothal is broken. Tell him what I have told you about my brothers, as he will wish to know. In fact, I fear that even removing the lady will not stop their greed. I have sent my youngest brother, Antoninus, for help.”
“Help?” Alexander repeated. “Help from whom?”
“Christopher de Lohr,” Tatius said quietly. “He is a great Marcher Lord with the army to match the de Shera army and then some. Antoninus was sent south many days ago to tell de Lohr what is transpiring. If the north is thrown into the chaos of rebellion, that can very quickly spread south. Being that de Lohr manages a good portion of the Marches, the man should know. And he needs to stop my brothers.”
Alexander looked at Kress and the two of them passed about silent words of shock and disbelief between them. Tatius was correct; if Atilius and Fabius de Shera were going to tear up the north of Wales alongside a Welsh rebellion, then the only army on the Marches big enough to stop such a thing was de Lohr’s. It was then that Kress, in particular, realized that the fear Tatius spoke of was not simply unsubstantiated paranoia. It was something he believed in so much that he’d sent for help to stop it.
And that meant the fears for Cadelyn were very real.
