As Davyss crossed the hall towards the kitchen, following the path of his wife, he was summoned by a soldier near the entry. The man had just entered the hall, bundled up against the night temperatures, and he caught Davyss’ attention as the man passed near. Davyss shifted direction and headed towards his soldier.
“Aye?” he asked the man. “What have you to say?”
The soldier was an older man, seasoned, who has served de Winter for many years. “You must come, my lord,” the soldier said. “We may have a problem.”
Davyss’ brow furrowed. “What problem?”
The soldier stepped back towards the entry where it was quieter and more private than standing out in the middle of the noisy hall. He came to a halt near the cracked-open entry door, where freezing air was pouring in from outside, and spoke quietly.
“A soldier just arrived who claims he is from Thunderbey Castle,” he said quietly. “The soldier claims that Thunderbey has fallen and that the Earl of East Anglia is dead. I have put the man in the gatehouse for your further interrogation.”
Davyss’ features washed with shock. “Du Reims is dead?” he repeated. “When?”
The soldier shook his head, watching Davyss as the man grabbed one of the many cloaks that had been tossed by the door by men coming from a cold climate into a warm and stuffy one.
“I do not know, my lord,” the soldier said as Davyss fastened the cloak around his broad shoulders. He followed his liege out of the entry and down the stairs leading to the bailey. “The man rode up on an exhausted horse and told us of the fall of Thunderbey, begging for our help. I came to find you immediately.”
They entered the bailey, hit in the face by the frigid temperatures. Davyss pulled the cloak more tightly around his body. “God’s Bones,” he hissed. “Is it really true that Thunderbey has fallen?”
“It would seem likely, my lord.”
Davyss struggled to comprehend the possibilities. “If du Reims is dead, really dead, Drake is now the Earl of East Anglia,” he said. “Good God, that is an overwhelming thought.”
The soldier simply nodded his head and didn’t say anything because he truthfully didn’t know any more than what he had already told his liege. He would have to wait for de Winter to interrogate the man to see what, if anything, had really happened.
Making their way to the outer wall of Norwich Castle was something of a journey because of the size of the complex. Norwich was a series of great ditches and moats linked by three great bridges and three great gatehouses. The keep sat within its own walls and gatehouse, while crossing a bridge brought them to a second bailey, surrounded by a wall. Still another bridge over a moat brought them to the walled outer bailey, surrounded by a moat, where there were stables and trades and accommodations for the army.
It was at this third gatehouse, which was the main gatehouse, where the messenger from Thunderbey sat inside the guard’s room, huddled before the fire and trying to warm up his freezing limbs. Davyss and the soldier who had summoned him crowded inside this small room, made smaller by the five other men that were already in there. When Davyss’ men saw their liege, they politely sought to leave but Davyss held them off. He trusted his guards and didn’t care if they heard the questions he was about to ask. He focused directly on the half-frozen man hunched over before the fire.
“You,” he pointed at the man. “Who are you? What’s this I hear about Christian du Reims?”
The messenger was shivering but managed to stand. “My Lord de Winter?” he asked.
Davyss nodded shortly. “I am de Winter,” he said. “What has happened?”
The messenger didn’t hesitate, speaking through quivering, blue lips. “I have been sent to inform you that Thunderbey Castle has been captured and the Earl of East Anglia has been killed,” he said. “I have been sent by my commander to beg for your assistance.”
Davyss’ brow furrowed as he heard the information now for the second time. “What happened?”
The messenger’s legs were quivering and weak, and he collapsed back onto the stool he had been sitting on. When he tried to get up again, Davyss simply waved him down. The man nodded gratefully, obviously quite weak and weary.
“We were attacked from inside, my lord,” he said, launching into his tale. “It was just as any other day. Our gates were open and there was trade happening in the outer bailey. But somehow… somehow enemy soldiers were able to infiltrate the inner bailey. They got inside and locked out most of the Thunderbey troops, for we were in the outer bailey where the troop house is located. They killed the Thunderbey troops stationed in the inner bailey and they must have breached the keep because they murdered Lord Christian and threw his body over the wall. Then they battled us from the inside as we tried to mount the walls, telling us that Thunderbey was now the property of the House of de Mandeville. My lord, we have been trying to purge them for two months but nothing has worked. That is why the commander sent me to ask you for help. We require your assistance, my lord. Will you help us?”
Davyss’ jaw dropped. “Two months?” he repeated in shock. “You have been battling them for two months and have been unable to remove them? And… God’s Bones… did you say de Mandeville?”
“I did, my lord.”
Davyss was dumbfounded. Outraged, shocked, and dumbfounded. Sending a soldier to bring Denys to him, he pulled up a three-legged stool and sat heavily, all the while mulling over what he’d just been told. After several long moments, he clapped a palm to his forehead in a gesture that suggested he was astounded by the entire circumstance.
“The de Mandevilles were not coming to Norwich,” he muttered to himself, although the others could hear him. “Drake feared that they would go after de Winter properties, but they did not. They went to Thunderbey instead and they have been there for two damnable months.”
The messenger was watching Davyss with concern, unsure if the man was speaking to him. He couldn’t take the chance that he was expecting an answer. “Aye, my lord, two months,” he said. “We thought it would be a simple thing to purge them.”
Davyss eyed the man as he rubbed at his chin, thinking on the situation. He simply shook his head after a moment, still lost to his own thoughts. “De Mandeville at Thunderbey,” he mumbled again, as if he were having a conversation only with himself. “Why did we not see this coming?”
The soldier who had summoned Davyss glanced to the others in the small room, curiously, before speaking to Davyss. “My lord?” he asked curiously, thinking Davyss was perhaps looking for an answer from any of them.
Davyss wasn’t particularly looking for answers and he knew he had been talking to himself, so he waved the man off. “It ’tis nothing,” he said, “except… except Drake warned me of the de Mandevilles after the attack on Spexhall. He feared the de Mandevilles would try to attack de Winter properties but instead they went straight to Thunderbey. Thunderbey is a very large, high-walled castle. I find it astonishing that they were able to breach the walls and capture the keep.”
The messenger from Thunderbey shook his head. “They were disguised, my lord,” he said. “No army came to Thunderbey to capture her. As I said, it was a day like any other, but before the nooning meal, the keep and the inner ward were in the hands of another army. They simply slipped in and we did not notice them.”
Davyss frowned. “No army simply slips in unnoticed,” he said, “but that is beside the fact. What is done is done. Damn du Reims; he should have been more vigilant. Why was he not more vigilant? On the day his daughter married my son, he warned us about the de Mandevilles. Did he not follow his own advice?”
No one had an answer for him. They all sat there, wondering about the implications of the fall of Thunderbey and what that meant for the House of de Winter. As Davyss sat there and pondered the situation, still muttering to himself, he finally spoke up for all to hear.
“Of course we have no choice in this,” he said. “With du Reims gone, Drake is now the Earl of East Anglia. Thunderbey is
my son’s property and, of course, we will regain it for him, but I must send word to him immediately on what has happened. He will need to come home and bring back the three thousand men I sent with him for Edward’s cause. We will need them.”
The messenger from Thunderbey nodded. “That is why I have been sent here, my lord,” he said. “I am sworn to East Anglia, who is your son. We tried to gain the castle back for him but we failed, and that is why we need your assistance. Will you not come, my lord?”
Davyss looked at him, something of suspicion flooding his features. “Pride,” he complained quietly. “It was your pride that kept you from coming to me sooner. Is that not true?”
The messenger hung his head. “We thought we could regain it with the four hundred men we had, my lord,” he said. “But that has not been the case.”
“Why not?” he demanded. “The de Mandevilles are no great force.”
The messenger shrugged. “Mayhap not, my lord, but they have managed to hold our keep for several weeks,” he said. “Thunderbey has known peace for so long that we have no siege engines or war machines. We have an army, but it is not a highly trained or equipped one because Lord Christian has never laid siege nor attacked an enemy his entire life. Therefore, we were ill-prepared for this. We built ladders to mount the walls but the inner walls are so tall that the ladders weaken and collapse. Then we built platforms, but the enemy inside the keep doused them with coals and flammable things that would burn them down. We lost three of them. We are currently attempting to tunnel under the wall but the tunnel collapsed last week, killing ten men. We are trying to re-tunnel, but the commander thought we had better seek assistance at this point. Regaining the keep of Thunderbey requires more than we can give.”
Davyss sat on that information, pensive in expression now, knowing what he needed to do but he sincerely needed Drake and Devon and those three thousand men returned to him. As it was, he only had about four thousand men total scattered around Norfolk and he would have to leave his other properties with hardly any protection at all if he were to draw on most of those men.
But, as he saw it, he had little choice. Recalling Drake and Devon and Dallan and all of his troops from Scotland would take time, and time wasn’t something they had. Thunderbey needed to be reclaimed and reclaimed quickly. Davyss knew he was going to have to call on some of his allies for manpower, men like de la Rosa of Framlingham and Summerlin of Blackstone. He sat back against the wall and considered his options as Denys suddenly appeared.
The de Winter brother had run all the way from the keep, through the cold and dark, and now stood just inside the doorway of the guard room, his face pinched red from the cold and puffs of breath coming from his mouth. Davyss explained to his son what had happened in a few short sentences, enough so that Denys took on the same surprised expression that Davyss himself had exhibited. When Davyss finished, Denys simply stood there with his mouth open.
“Thunderbey is captured?” he said, astonished. “We must send for Drake right away. It is his property, Papa. He will need to come home right away.”
Davyss nodded patiently. “I know,” he said. “That is why I have summoned you. You will be charged with sending missives to our allies and to Drake, telling them what has happened. Tell Drake he must come home immediately and bring my army back with him. Word must be sent to Framlingham Castle and Blackstone Castle asking for men and material. I will accept one thousand men from each. Meanwhile, we recall some of our own men from our holdings in Norfolk. Go now to my solar and pull forth my ledger that has how many men we have at each property. I will join you there shortly so we may begin the recall.”
Denys fled. Davyss stood up from the stool, pulled up by one of his soldiers, because he wasn’t exactly young and sometimes it was difficult for him to stand up when he’d been seated, especially in the cold weather. On his feet, he faced the messenger from Thunderbey.
“We will ride to Thunderbey and save her from herself,” he said in a rather ironic tone. “You will remain here for the night, fed and rested, and then return to Thunderbey and tell your commander we will come as soon as we can. It is my estimation that we will be fully mobilized in six or seven days and then it will take us at least three days to reach Thunderbey. Tell your commander that.”
The messenger nodded. “I will, my lord,” he said. “But… but what about the new Earl of East Anglia? Will you not wait for him?”
Davyss shook his head. “Did you not hear, man?” he said. “He is in Scotland. It will take weeks for him to return. Do you want to wait weeks?”
“Nay, my lord.”
“Then ten days is what you must wait. Go forth tomorrow and tell your commander that.”
“I will, my lord.”
Davyss left the gatehouse without another word, heading back across the bridges and moats until he reached Norwich’s keep. He paused in the hall, looking around for his wife, but didn’t see her and assumed she had retired for the evening. Even as he headed up the stairs to his bedchamber, he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to tell his wife. He couldn’t send Denys alone to conduct a siege, young as he was, so Davyss was convinced he had to go. He hadn’t ridden to battle in ten years and he was quite certain Devereux would try to talk him out of it.
He was right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Elizaveta was up before dawn.
Her pregnancy sickness was unpredictable at best so when she awoke in the morning and felt well enough to move around, she got up, bathed in warmed rosewater, and dressed in a warm, dark green, woolen gown, wrapping herself in a heavy cloak that was lined with rabbit fur, a cloak that Lady de Winter had purchased for her in London during their visit in October. It was lovely and soft and warm.
Wrapped up against the cold, Elizaveta emerged from the chamber she’d been assigned to by Lady de Winter, the one where Drake usually slept, and descended the steps to the large common area below. There were two adjoining halls on this level, the entry level, and already men were breaking their fast in one of the halls as the sun began to rise. Elizaveta took a piece of warm bread from a passing serving girl and took it with her outside to walk. Spending so much time lying about made her want to stretch her legs and walk, and Norwich Castle was the perfect place to do so. It was a massive complex, one she found very interesting, so there was always something to see as she walked about.
The bread was soft and delicious, with herbs and onions, and she chewed enthusiastically as she made her way down the steps to the bailey. It was a somewhat small bailey surrounding the massive keep and she was immediately set upon by happy, but hungry, dogs who wanted what she had. She walked, they followed, and she ended up throwing them pieces of the hard crust. It made for quite an entourage as she made her way out of the bailey and across the bridge that connected to a second bailey. The dogs trotted after her, wagging their tails.
When she reached the second bailey, this one the smallest, some soldiers tried to chase the dogs away from her but the dogs wouldn’t budge. She laughed at the soldiers’ efforts as she continued down to the lower bailey where most of the activity at Norwich happened. There was a tanner down below and she had spoken with the man about producing some new boots for her, cowhide, and she wanted to see if the man had any hides for her to inspect. With her doggy escort, she crossed the second bridge down into the lower bailey with its enormous gatehouse, protecting the whole of Norwich.
By the time she reached that bailey, however, there was some commotion going about. Men at the gatehouse had spotted something, made difficult through the fog that had settled upon the ground during the night, but the rising sun was burning some of it off. Elizaveta didn’t pay much attention to the soldiers at the gatehouse, focused on the tanner’s shack near the corner of the bailey where she could already see the tanner moving about. She thought of having the tanner make a tiny pair of boots for the baby, too, smiling when she thought of Drake’s son and putting a hand over her belly, protectively. Her pregnancy has been most
ly miserable so the moments of joy in a new child had been few and far between, but at this moment, she was feeling fairly joyful.
You will conceive a son this night, Elizaveta. Swear it.
Her smile grew, thinking of Drake’s reaction when he would come to realize she had kept her promise. She knew how happy he would be and she was already thinking of names for the child, assuming she would have to start the child’s name with a “D” as two generations of the de Winters had done. Drake’s entire family had names that started with that letter, except for his sister, Katharine, who was named after her grandmother, so Elizaveta had been thinking of all the possible names for the child that Drake might approve of. It had occupied her thoughts as of late, planning for the future, thinking on the lovely family she and Drake would have.
Shouts from the gatehouse began to distract her but she was over at the far end of the bailey at this point, well away from the gatehouse. She’d not yet reached the tanner when the gates began to open and people began scurrying. Casually, Elizaveta turned to see what the fuss was about and saw two mounted knights enter the bailey with a wagon between them, driven by one soldier and manned by a second. It was foggy in the bailey and difficult to see who the knights were, but as Elizaveta watched with curiosity, the sun broke through and the fog cleared up in spots, enough for her to recognize one of the horses, a big dappled rouncey with a black mane and tail.
It was Drake’s horse.
Shocked, Elizaveta forgot all about the tanner and began to run towards the knights, who had already passed through the bailey and were crossing the bridge into the second bailey. Unfortunately, there were crowds of men between Elizaveta and the knights who had just passed through and she had to run around men blocking her path, delaying her, and the knights and the wagon moved further and further away. Additionally, the running had brought back her nausea and she was forced to slow down, feeling ill and anxious and thrilled as she could see the knights now entering the second bailey.
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