Victor, too, was eyeing the village in the distance. “And then what?” he said. “De Bermingham, all they need do is send out a group of men on horseback to capture you if that is the case. You cannot flee them on foot.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Victor nodded firmly. “I do,” he said. “Let me go to them and find out what I can. If your man has indeed made it here and betrayed both you and my daughter… I mean, the Lady Emllyn… then I will find out. If she is in the vault, then I will tell the commander that it is your wish to exchange thirty-three English prisoners for her life. You had better let me be the emissary because if you go near them and they know who you are, then both you and the Lady Emllyn will be in serious danger. I do not know if I will be able to get you out of it.”
Devlin looked rather amused. “You would try and get me out of danger?” he asked. “Why?”
Victor gave him a rather dead-pan look, although there wasn’t much weight behind it. It was an expression coming from a man who knew he had little choice in the matter.
“Because when you marry my daughter, you will become the only son I have,” he said, watching Devlin grin. “I cannot let my only son become fodder for de Cleveley, no matter if you are Black Sword.”
Devlin couldn’t help but chuckle. “So you have come to terms with your only son, have you?”
“I have little choice.”
Devlin nodded in agreement, his humor fading. “That is true.”
Victor held his gaze a moment longer before waving him off in a somewhat light and dismissive gesture. “Moreover, you showed your English prisoners mercy you did not have to display,” he said quietly. “I at least owe you a measure of the same.”
“Even though it was I who destroyed Kildare’s fleet in the first place?”
Victor shrugged. “Such are the perils of war.”
Devlin’s gaze lingered on the man a moment. “Indeed they are,” he said, eyeing the settlement once more. “The situation being what it is, I will agree with your plans. You will go instead of me. However, if my commander has not come here and they still believe me to be John the farmer, then you will come back after contacting de Noble and bring us all in to the settlement. I will wait here with your men. You will tell de Noble that I rescued you from Black Sword’s dungeon and brought you here. That will give me much credibility in de Noble’s eyes.”
“Agreed.”
“One more thing; you should tell your men not to give away my true identity. That, too, will reflect badly on Emllyn. They must keep the secret if there is any chance of getting us all out of this situation unscathed.”
Victor nodded, glancing back at his collection of weary and worn men, including Trevor and his lover. The lover was an older man, a seasoned soldier, and along with William du Reims, whose health had suffered greatly in captivity, the three of them kept vigilant watch over the men. Victor eyed his group of weary and beaten men, now exhausted after a two day march south.
“I’ve not told them anything, you know,” he said quietly. “I was not going to say a word until you told me to.”
Devlin nodded, appreciating the trust. “Now is the time,” he said. “Let them know what is to happen. I will listen to what you say.”
Victor went to his men, collecting them around him, and tactfully explained the situation they were about to face. Everyone either seemed confused or apathetic about keeping Devlin’s identity a secret, and Devlin watched Trevor’s face in particular when Victor discussed the situation regarding Lady Emllyn or, as he suspected, his daughter, Cate. The man’s eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed with confusion. After a few moments as the news sank in, he shook his head with disbelief and rolled his eyes. Devlin nearly grinned.
In truth, all of the men seemed rather concerned for her, enough so that they were willing to lie about de Bermingham’s true identity. The lady’s peril was enough to guarantee their compliance on the matter. With his men informed and his task complete, Victor approached Devlin.
“Everyone is in agreement now,” he said. “Any further instructions?”
Devlin shook his head as he gazed at the settlement in the distance. He was hesitant to speak what was on his mind, the last few words before Victor faced an uncertain situation, but he felt he had to say something. It would weigh far too heavily upon him if he did not.
“If… if you do see Emllyn and confirm that she is your daughter,” he said quietly. “Do not… that is to say, I would rather that she….”
Victor cut him off. “I will not say a word to her about assuming the Lady Emllyn’s identity,” he said. “But if she sees you and I together, and she knows you have freed us from your vault, then she will assume we have spoken about her and she must further assume that I told you of the Lady Emllyn’s death. She is a bright girl.”
Devlin nodded, his eyes averted. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling at the moment; he was excited to see Emllyn, so much so that his hands were sweating. He couldn’t even begin to describe the longing in his heart, waiting to be quenched by the first vision of his angel in days. Everything leads me to thee, he thought to himself. But in the next breath, he wanted to take her over his knee so badly and spank her for lying to him that he could hardly think straight. It was an odd combination.
“I know she is,” he said. “I would rather she confess her identity to me of her own free will rather than you force it out of her.”
“As you wish.”
With that, Victor begged his leave and headed on foot to de Cleveley’s settlement while Devlin and the other knights took the group back into the forest that bordered Glenteige from the west. They would stay out of sight until Victor made his determinations. Meanwhile, as they waited for Victor to accomplish his directive, it afforded Devlin a closer look at the knight Emllyn had risked her life for.
Trevor was very efficient, helping settle the men and making comfortable the ones who had suffered the most. He even sat du Reims down because the man was in no shape to be on his feet. He seemed very concerned for the others, a show of compassion that was surprising from an arrogant young knight. When everyone was settled and breaking out the last of the jerky and cheese, Trevor approached Devlin.
“The men are settled, my lord,” he said politely. “Would you eat with us?”
Devlin inspected the man; he’d grown thinner since the first time he’d seen him in the vault. He could just picture Emllyn throwing herself at the handsome young knight and the man’s utter resistance to female company. After a moment, he shook his head.
“Nay,” he replied. “But take what nourishment you can. It has been a two day march and I do not know when we will be supplied with more food.”
Trevor simply nodded politely and turned away. But Devlin stopped him; he found he couldn’t help himself.
“I understand that the Lady Em… I mean, the Lady Catherine was somewhat of your shadow,” he said.
Trevor looked a little surprised by the question. And then he looked nervous. “Did Victor tell you that?”
Devlin shook his head. “The woman who introduced herself to me as the Lady Emllyn did.”
Trevor was at a loss for words. But when he spoke, there was both concern and awe in his tone. “Then… then it is true she stowed away on Kildare’s armada?”
“To follow you, I was told.”
“But… in God’s name, why?”
Devlin shrugged. “She told me that she had followed her lover because she wanted to prove to him that she could be a good wife,” he said. Then, he wriggled his eyebrows ironically. “Why did you never tell her that you were not interested in women?”
Trevor was nervous still and he hesitated before answering. He knew what Devlin meant; it was obvious in his expression, but it wasn’t something he was keen on discussing with a stranger. Still, there was no point in avoiding the subject. It wasn’t as if he’d been hiding it since he and Nils had been joyfully reunited after their release from Black Castle’s vault.
Nils had been in one cell and he had been in the other. They’d hardly been able to touch each other through the bars and crowded conditions.
“I did tell her,” he finally said. “But I did not use the correct terms, I suppose. I said I had no interest in a wife, but she seemed to take it as a challenge.”
“She would.”
“Then you have come to know her, my lord?”
Devlin nodded. Then, he laughed softly. “Have no fear,” he said. “When I see her again, I will not tell her why you had no interest in marriage. But take heart; I have a feeling she is no longer interested in you. I believe she has moved on to bigger prey.”
Trevor’s dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She has?” he asked, relief in his voice. “If that is indeed true, then I would shake that man’s hand for doing me a great and important favor.”
Devlin just looked at him. Then, he slowly extended his hand. Trevor looked at it with confusion.
“I do not understand, my lord.”
Devlin’s lips twitched with a grin. “You said you wanted to shake the hand of the man who is doing you a great and important favor.”
Trevor still stared at it. And stared. Then, realization dawned; his eyes widened as he reached out to take Devlin’s big, white hand.
“You, my lord?”
“It would seem so.”
“But… but I do not understand! How?”
“How, indeed.”
“And… and you are agreeable to this?”
“Aye.”
Trevor’s expression washed with one of great pleasure and he shook Devlin’s hand firmly. In fact, he was nearly overjoyed to shake it.
“Then the rumors of your courage are true,” he said enthusiastically. “You are the bravest man I have ever met!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Only thirty-three out of an armada of one thousand men?” de Noble was incredulous. “That is all that survived?”
Standing in de Noble’s fine solar with its faintly smoky air and hide rugs, Victor nodded seriously. “It was a disaster for Kildare,” he said quietly. “Black Sword and his men were waiting for us. The weather was so bad that the ships crashed together as we tried to moor them, essentially breaking them apart. Men struggling to shore were easily picked off by de Bermingham’s men.”
De Noble’s mind ran over that horrifying scenario, men being easy prey for Black Sword’s blood thirsty troops. “But you survived?”
“Barely, my lord.”
De Noble sighed heavily. “Surely Kildare must be aware of this defeat.”
Victor shrugged. “I would not know,” he said. “Unless Black Sword sent him word that the fleet was destroyed, I suppose the man is still waiting for word. It was a little more than three weeks ago.”
De Noble’s gaze lingered on Victor, trying to overcome the terrible news of the shattered fleet. “And what’s this you say about a traitor knight under Black Sword’s command?” he asked. “You asked me if such a man had come here from Black Castle.”
“Did he?”
“Nay,” de Noble shook his head. “We have not seen anyone like that. However, a little more than a week ago, a farmer brought a woman to us who declared that she was Kildare’s sister.”
That was exactly what Victor wanted to hear. He feigned surprise. “His sister?” he repeated. “How is it possible?”
De Noble perched himself on the edge of his great oak desk. “She said she had been on a ship to witness her brother’s victory over the Irish and evidently washed up on shore when the armada was destroyed,” he replied. “The farmer is the only man from Black Castle’s region that we have seen here. As for the woman, from what you have told me, she is lucky to have survived.”
Victor’s thoughts were immediately riveted to the woman they all knew as Emllyn. “Is she still here?”
De Noble nodded. “Of course,” he said. “We have been providing her with the best of everything, and she and my daughter have become very good friends.”
Victor digested the information but as he did so, something de Noble had said caught his attention. “You said that she ‘declared’ she was Kildare’s sister,” he said. “Do you not believe her?”
De Noble shrugged. “She is fine and beautiful enough, so she is certainly a lady of nobility,” he said. “Is she who she says she is? It is possible. Why? Do you know his sister?”
“I do indeed.”
De Noble’s face lit up. “Perfect!” he said, coming off his desk and heading to the solar door. He opened the panel, shouting to a servant he saw in the feasting hall beyond. “Send the Lady Emllyn to me immediately. Tell her we have a visitor who wishes to see her!”
As the servant set down the broom in her hands, de Noble returned his attention to Victor. “I suppose we shall see if she really is Kildare’s sister,” he said. “Meanwhile, where are the rest of your men? You said there were thirty-three. Did you alone escape Black Castle?”
Victor shook his head, thinking that very soon he would be getting to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the alleged Lady Emllyn. He could hardly stand the anticipation. But even as he pondered that thought, he was also very aware that de Bermingham’s defector knight had not come to Glenteige to lay wide open Black Sword and his secrets. It was excellent news, one that he felt a great deal of relief at purely for Emllyn’s sake. Or Catherine’s; whomever she turned out to be. In any case, the woman would be safe. And Victor had to get his men inside the fortress.
“I did not,” he said, carefully planning a portion of the lie he had only briefly touched on with Devlin. “A farmer by the name of John released us. He was somehow able to get us clear of Black Castle and brought us here. He was instrumental in releasing us and should be duly commended.”
“John?” de Noble looked surprised. “A very big man with a red beard and a bald head?”
Victor thought back to Devlin, who was not so much bald any longer; his red hair was growing in. Still, he nodded.
“The same,” he said.
“He is the same man who brought us Kildare’s sister.”
“Then he is a valuable ally, indeed.”
“Did he come with you?”
Victor nodded. “He did,” he replied. “He is resting with my men just outside of Glenteige’s gates. I came ahead to announce our arrival and give you word of Kildare’s fleet.”
It was a smooth and believable story that rested in de Noble’s mind, so much so that the man hardly gave it another thought. “I will send men out to bring them in,” he said. “It must have been an exhausting flight.”
Victor was vastly relieved that de Noble didn’t question him anymore about John and their escape from Black Castle; he didn’t want to give the man more information than he had to because the tighter the web of deceit, the more chance there was for them to strangle themselves in it.
“It was,” he agreed. “But there is no need to send men. I will go and retrieve them. You can imagine we have several that are ill, making travel very slow and difficult.”
De Noble reached for a fine pewter pitcher of wine and two small pewter cups. It was a matching set he’d had shipped from England long ago. Pouring Victor a measure of wine, he handed it to the man.
“As you wish,” he said. “Meanwhile, you will enjoy my hospitality until we can arrange passage for you and your men to return to Llansteffan Castle. I am sure Kildare is anxious to have you and your men returned to him.”
Victor drank the entire cup of wine in three swallows; it was rich and tart and fortifying. De Noble took it from him and poured him some more.
“Mayhap,” Victor said, smacking his lips as he accepted his second cup. “It is more than likely he might wish for me to remain here to fortify your numbers. He does, in fact, want you to retake Black Castle, doesn’t he?”
De Noble’s expression remained neutral. “Did he tell you that?”
Victor took another long drink of wine. “I know he has been sending missives to de Cleveley and I am assumin
g de Cleveley is informing you of what he and Kildare have discussed. The earl wants Black Castle back.”
De Noble grunted and took a drink of his own wine. “That is no great secret,” he said. Then, he eyed Victor. “I will be honest when I tell you that de Cleveley is disinclined to launch against Black Castle, even to support an ally. We have our own problems with the Irish without stirring up Black Sword. He came down around us three years ago and I do not want to live through that again. The man stole my damn chair.”
As Victor pondered de Noble and de Cleveley’s resistance to Kildare’s request, he heard quick and light footsteps approaching the solar door. By the time he turned around, a beautiful young woman in a yellow surcoat was standing in the doorway.
Victor tried to control his reaction; he really did. It was the greatest feat of self-control he had ever exhibited because in truth, his mind was reeling and it would have been very easy to display his naked reaction of astonishment.
He stared at the young woman; the young woman stared at him. Eyes widened and jaws dropped. As Victor stared at her, he could see the tears forming. Already there was about to be a scene and he hastened to prevent it. Not here, not now, in front of de Noble, who was watching the entire event very carefully. Victor had to step forward and take charge, and he did just that.
“Lady Emllyn,” he said, moving to take Emllyn’s hand. He kissed it with more tenderness than he should have. “I have been hearing all about your harrowing tale, how you washed upon shore and how a farmer brought you to Glenteige. Thank God you are well and whole, my lady. Thank God indeed.”
Emllyn stared at Victor as he kissed her hand. It was too much for her; tears spilled over and she clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing. Never in her life had she been so surprised, or had felt so much overwhelming astonishment. She struggled not to dissolve into gut-busting weeping as Victor held her hand and smiled warmly at her. God’s Blood, the struggle! Swallowing hard, Emllyn forced herself to acknowledge his kind words.
Brides of Ireland: A Medieval Historical Romance Bundle Page 64