Kevin shook his head. “Caius saw the entire event,” he said. “He said my brother spirited her out from the postern gate. Please, Sherry, you must come.”
Alexander suddenly rushed him, grabbing him by the arms. It was clear that whatever confusion he had was instantly cleared up, like the sun bursting through the clouds.
“Sean took her?” he demanded. “Caius saw Sean?”
Kevin could see the panic and rage in the man’s eyes, unusual for Alexander, who was always the consummately controlled knight.
“Aye,” he said. “He saw my brother taking her from the postern gate along with several of the king’s men. That is all I know, I swear it. You must go to William, Sherry.”
Going to William wasn’t what Alexander had in mind. The singular thought he had was the fact that Sean had taken Christin out of Norwich. Sean had warned them of the king’s plan and they’d concocted their own counter-plan because of it, but it was clear that either their plan hadn’t worked or Sean had been planning on taking Christin out of Norwich all along. Perhaps he’d only pretended to work with them to lower their guard.
But Alexander didn’t truly believe that. At least, he hoped it wasn’t the case. When it came to Sean de Lara, nothing was for certain. Yet he knew one thing; he wasn’t going to William. He wasn’t going to take the chance that The Marshal would somehow prevent him from going after Christin.
He was going after her and he’d kill anyone who tried to stop him, de Lara included.
Bishop’s Lynn, Sean had said. FitzRoy had a manse in Bishop’s Lynn.
That’s where he was going.
Without another word, Alexander turned to his horse, who was fully prepared at that point. Alexander had his sword on the animal, sheathed, as well as his saddlebags. He was ready to go.
And go, he would.
As Kevin called after him, trying to stop him, Alexander thundered out of the stable, heading out of Norwich Castle.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
William had managed to talk Christopher out of riding after his daughter immediately, but things weren’t well with him.
Not in the least.
Caius, Kevin, Maxton, Kress, and Bric had mounted up and taken off after Alexander, who had less than an hour’s head start on them. Sending five heavily-armed and seasoned knights after Alexander, and Sean and Christin, was the only way to keep Christopher and David from starting an all-out war, at least at the moment. With Peter surprisingly siding with The Marshal and begging his father to be calm, they managed to convince Christopher to remain at Norwich and confront the king. Retrieving Christin was only part of the problem.
The larger issue was, in fact, John.
He had to be stopped.
Therefore, Christopher agreed to confront the king on his actions, but it was going to be on his terms. While William went into the keep to arrange the meeting with the monarch, Christopher had roused his entire contingent of one hundred heavily-armed de Lohr men into the keep of Norwich, prompting the king’s soldiers who happened to be in the keep to confront them. The great hall of Norwich saw bloody action as Christopher’s men easily dispatched the royal guard.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t been part of the plan.
William had sought out Old Daveigh before seeing the king, and they had been in Old Daveigh’s solar when they heard the clash. Shocked, they emerged into the great hall as the de Lohr men were trampling the king’s guard.
Old Daveigh’s first reaction was to summon his own men to beat back the de Lohr troops, but William prevented him from doing so because he knew it would be a bloodbath. William didn’t want allies going after each other even though what Christopher did could be considered quite hostile. Truth be told, Old Daveigh understood. He backed off and let William deal with it.
Fortunately, William wasn’t too late. By the time he got up to the king’s chamber, the door was open and Christopher was standing a few feet away from John with his enormous broadsword in his hand. The king’s personal guard were poised and ready to strike, and David and Peter were poised also. It threatened to be one hell of a battle as William rushed into the room, hoping he could prevent regicide.
“De Lohr, back away,” William commanded, moving to put himself between John and Christopher. “Do it now before this turns into chaos.”
Christopher was singularly focused on John. He didn’t even move when William commanded him to. He only moved when William put himself in front of John and then Christopher was forced to look at him. Even then, he didn’t step back until David tugged him.
The look in his eyes was positively deadly.
When William was certain Christopher wasn’t going to charge, he turned to John.
“Your grace, we are aware of your plans for Christin de Lohr,” he said evenly. “We are also aware that you have put those plans into action. I can only deter de Lohr for so long before he will overwhelm me and snap your neck, so now would be a very good time to tell him why you did this and assure him that his daughter will not be harmed in any way. I would also suggest you send a messenger to catch up to de Lara to tell him to release Christin to my men, who happen to be following. Do these things and there will be no bloodshed. Fail to comply and I cannot protect you. I am not sure I want to.”
John was sitting in a comfortable chair, looking at William quite casually. There was no sense of urgency in his features, as if he didn’t have a dozen armed men around him.
He was arrogant, and confident, that way.
“I will not send a messenger after de Lara,” he said frankly. “This is a great opportunity for Lady Christin. Surely de Lohr can see that. My son is a titled lord and when he marries Christin, he shall be the Duke of Dersingham. His daughter will be a duchess. All you had to do was ask me calmly and I would have told you the truth.”
Behind William, Christopher’s features twisted with disgust. “The Duchess of Dersingham?” he repeated as if it were the most distasteful thing he’d ever heard. “I would rather see her married to a pauper than titled and married to your bastard. But you knew that; otherwise, you would not have abducted her.”
John’s focus was on Christopher. “Is it so bad to be related to the crown, de Lohr?” he asked. “You served my brother flawlessly. You have always been faithful to England. Why not consider this a reward?”
Christopher’s jaw was ticking dangerously. “It is a curse,” he growled. “It is a burden and a shame. I do not want to be related to you or anything about you, so send a man to head off de Lara or this will not go well for you.”
“This will not go well for you,” John snarled, all of the casual nature abruptly out of his manner. “Do you think to threaten me, de Lohr? I could have you arrested for that.”
Christopher snorted. “I would like to see you try,” he said. “You and I have been doing battle for more than twenty years and I would think, by now, you would realize there is nothing you can do to me. I, however, can do a good deal to you.”
John was on his feet. “You will not do anything as long as my son is married to your precious daughter.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
John laughed, but there was no humor to it. “Let us be plain,” he said. “If you wish to see your daughter in continued good health, then you will behave yourself. Behave poorly and Christin shall pay the price. Is that clear enough?”
Surprisingly, Christopher didn’t explode with rage. He stood there, eyeing John, calculating his options. He’d been in a position like this with the man more than once and he knew what would work on him. He knew what kind of threat would make a difference.
And he didn’t doubt for one moment that John meant what he said.
Christin would pay the price if he stepped out of line.
But he wasn’t finished with this, not at all.
“It is as clear as rain,” Christopher said. “But allow me to be clear, also – although you and I have never been close allies, I have never rebelled against you. When you needed
military might, the de Lohr army always answered the call. Is this not true?”
John nodded slowly. “It is.”
“At any given time, I can raise ten thousand men between Lioncross Abbey, Canterbury Castle, and my various garrisons,” Christopher said. “I can raise twice that by summoning my allies. Twenty thousand men are at my disposal.”
John lifted an eyebrow. “What is your meaning?”
Christopher’s jaw ticked as he spoke, indicative of the rage in his chest. It was enough to cause beads of sweat to pop out on his brow.
“I mean, quite plainly, that this action will change how I serve the crown,” he said. “It means that the crown is now my enemy. You are my enemy. It means that I shall ally myself with Philip of France and allow his troops into Lioncross and every other property I possess. It means that when I have gathered tens of thousands of men, I shall march on you and I shall destroy you. I would rather see Philip sitting on the throne of England than you. I would rather see England become part of France than have to swear fealty to a piece of human wreckage. When you took my daughter, you destroyed the last thread of loyalty I had to you. I will gladly see you and your family destroyed and I will not shed a tear. Is this in any way unclear?”
When he was finished, it was John who was sweating. Twitching, sweating anger because of all of the warlords in England, Christopher de Lohr was the one who could truly carry out the threat and he knew it.
“Do it and your daughter dies.”
Christopher smiled thinly. “If she dies, so do you and everyone you care for. I will wipe through the House of Plantagenet like the plague.”
He hissed the last words, emphasizing the fact that he meant what he said. Through it all, William watched the entire exchange, watching each threat become more severe than the last, like watching a chess match where the end game was only death.
Nothing else.
William was a diplomat but above all else, he was a fighting man. Some called him the greatest knight England had ever seen. Therefore, he understood the gravity of this situation better than most.
He took a deep breath.
“John,” he said quietly, and quite informally, “send a messenger to de Lara. Have him bring Christin back to Norwich, unharmed. If you do this, Christopher will forget about this… incident. He will forget his threats, which he is perfectly capable of carrying out, as you are well aware.”
John was glaring at Christopher, incapable of tearing his eyes away. When one is faced with an enemy, it does not do well to take one’s eyes from him.
John knew that.
“Nay,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will not. She marries my son.”
“Then I will kill your son,” Christopher said. “There are not enough guards in the civilized world to protect him. If I want him dead, he shall be dead. And then I shall go to work on you.”
William held up a hand. “Gentlemen, please,” he said, trying desperately to steer the conversation back to something productive. “Let us sit and discuss this calmly. But John, I would strongly suggest you send a messenger to de Lara now. The situation will not improve until you do. Do you not understand that?”
But John wouldn’t do it. “I told you I would not.”
“Then you are exchanging de Lohr’s fealty for his daughter’s marriage to your son,” William said. “Instead of creating an alliance, you are destroying one. Is the price worth it?”
John’s twitching was growing worse. He’d been known to fall into fits if enraged enough. He started to back away, keeping his eyes on Christopher, as Gerard suddenly stepped from the shadows.
Big, ugly, nasty Gerard was John’s attack dog. It was true that Christin had wounded him, but he’d had a physic dress the wound and little else. It had stopped bleeding, anyway, and that meant he resumed his duties even if he was feeling weak. He had a particular message for de Lohr, anyway, and would not be stopped.
“Your daughter stabbed me,” he said to Christopher. “She rammed a dagger into my gut. Did you raise such a ruthless bitch?”
Christopher looked Gerard over. “You do not look any worse for the wear,” he said. “And if call my daughter a bitch again, you shall pay the price.”
Gerard didn’t have the sense that most men had. He only knew violence and all of the things that went along with it. That was his world, his life, his vocation. In his mind, there was nothing else.
“Who is going to make me?” he said. “You? I am not afraid you, de Lohr. Everyone else is, but I am not. You cannot harm me.”
Christopher’s gaze lingered on the man for a moment before returning his attention to the king. “I will not speak with filth,” he said. “Call back your dog before he makes the situation worse.”
John was indecisive, which was usual when Sean wasn’t around. Sean would whisper in his ear, telling him what to do or what to think, and that was what he would do. Or other courtiers would do the same, as John was not without an abundance of people around him to make suggestions or give advice. But there was no Sean in the room at the moment, or other courtiers, so his hesitation emboldened Gerard.
“Out, de Lohr,” the man snarled, unsheathing his weapon. “Get out or I will make you regret your refusal.”
Christopher’s sword came out, but David was faster. Even in his youth, there was no one faster with a sword, and David charged Gerard with lightning speed. Gerard barely had time to lift his sword before David was on top of him, shoving him back with a staggering blow and causing him to lose his balance. The armed guards in the room began to move to help Gerard, but Peter and Christopher turned on them, holding them off as William drew his sword to protect the king.
Startled and afraid, John began screaming as William put himself in front of the king, backing the man up, away from the fighting.
“Cease!” John cried. “Gerard, do you hear me? Cease! David, stop your attack!”
But David wasn’t listening. He’d had enough of his brother being insulted by the king and then by Gerard, who was unworthy to even be in the same room as his brother as far as he was concerned. Gerard gave David a good fight for a minute or so before the wound to his side began bleeding again, and paining him greatly, and he found himself on one knee as David beat him down, finally knocking the sword from his hand. As David grabbed his hair and went in for the kill, William barked.
“David!” he boomed. “You will not kill him, do you hear? Leave him be and back away.”
David was poised to ram his sword right down Gerard’s throat. It would have been so easy to do it. But he listened to William, knowing any refusal would not be well met, so he let Gerard go and backed away. As he moved off, he kicked Gerard’s sword all the way across the chamber, far away so Gerard couldn’t rise up and attack him again. He returned to Christopher and Peter, who had eight of the king’s guard cornered. As the de Lohr men decided what to do with a collection of soldiers, William turned to John.
“For God’s sake, John,” he hissed. “If you do not want to see England destroyed, then send word to Sean and have him return Christin to Norwich. You have no choice.”
John was torn between fear and defiance. “You are only now back in my good graces, William, or have you forgotten?”
William shook his head. Considering that John spoke the truth, and William had spent the past couple of years abroad because of his contentious relationship with John, he was well aware that his presence in England now was fragile. He was home and he wanted to remain.
“I have not.”
“Then you do not give the commands, William.”
“In this case, I do. Do as I say or I will let de Lohr destroy you.”
John was beginning to twitch again from anger. “Do your duty and control him,” he said. “If you do not and he rises against me, the loss of England will be your fault.”
William lifted his eyebrows. “Unfortunately, you probably believe that,” he said. “But the truth is that your cruelty and pettiness is what will destroy it.
I have recently come from Ramsbury Castle where a French spy foretold of a threat against you. She called it a threat from within. I am starting to think that you are the only true threat to England, John. Mayhap it is you who will finally destroy this country.”
John pulled away from him, glancing at Gerard, who was just starting to get to his feet. The man was pale, his lower abdomen bloody. John looked around the chamber, at what was happening, and took a defiant stance.
“Get out and take the de Lohrs with you,” he said to William. “I am going back to London. I will not stay where I feel as if my life is threatened.”
William watched him as he backed away, heading for a doorway that led to the bedchamber.
“Your life is threatened by your own doing,” William said. “Save England, John. Recall de Lara. The fate of your country is in your hands.”
John didn’t reply. He retreated into the bedchamber with Gerard stumbling after him, and that was the end of it. With a heavy sigh, William turned to Christopher and David and Peter, who still had the royal guards cornered. Sword still in his hand, William came up behind them.
“Chris,” he said quietly. “Get out. Take your son and your brother with you. And get your men out of the keep. Old Daveigh does not deserve the turmoil we have brought him, so be quick about it. We are departing this place.”
Christopher didn’t even look at him, nor did he sheathe his sword. But he left, which was about all William could hope for at the moment as he watched David and, finally, Peter follow him. William remained, however, covering their retreat before quitting the chamber after them.
God help him, he had such a mess on his hands that he didn’t even know where to start. William knew he had to get Christopher and Peter and David out of Norwich and he had to make apologies to Old Daveigh. But he found himself praying that his agents following Sean and Christin would catch up and wrangle Christin away from Sean. And given there was some emotion involved now with Alexander and Christin, he seriously wondered if Sean was going to survive.
So many unknowns.
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