Brides of Ireland

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  “The mention of Black Castle is not taken well around here,” he said. “Tell me your name and no lies, or I will feed you to the dogs.”

  Frederick gazed back with dulled eyes. “Sir Frederick ṓg Branach,” he said. “My cousin is Devlin de Bermingham.”

  The man with the beard gazed down at him a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “My soldiers told me that,” he said. “But I cannot believe you would be foolish enough to come here and announce it. Do you have a death wish, man?”

  Frederick tried to shake his head but it was difficult to move. “I am no longer loyal to Black Sword,” he said. “I have come to make a deal with you.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “Untie me, feed me, and I shall tell you.”

  The two men standing over Frederick looked at each other as if silently debating the request. There was wariness there but there was also curiosity. After a moment, the man with the beard motioned to a few other men Frederick couldn’t see, men standing out of his line of sight, who then reached down and lifted him roughly off the ground.

  The world rocked unsteadily as they plopped Frederick onto a bench. Someone cut the bindings off his arms while someone else bent down to cut the bindings off his ankles. Just as the leather ties around his ankle fell away, Frederick lashed out a big boot and kicked the man who had cut his legs free in the face, knocking the dirk out of his hand. Quick as a flash, he grabbed the dirk, and the man he had kicked, and held the blade to the man’s throat.

  “So you see fit to treat me like an animal when I come to you with information about your greatest enemy?” he hissed. “I was always told you were a bunch of brainless barbarians and I would say from my treatment, those rumors were true. Do you not even try to seek out a man’s business before you beat him nearly to death?”

  The two dark-haired men who seemed to be the leaders stood by patiently. No one made a move. The man with the beard finally spoke.

  “My name is Daniel O’Byrne,” he said, then indicated the other dark-haired man standing next to him. “This is my son, Brandon. I would know what you’ve come here for before I put a blade in your belly.”

  “Put a blade in my belly and you’ll never know the secret of Black Sword.”

  “And what do you want in exchange for this secret?”

  “Command of Black Castle when you take her.”

  Daniel lifted his eyebrows, half in disbelief, half in curiosity. “What makes you think we’ll take her?” he asked. “We laid siege to the place for almost a week and were unable to breach her walls.”

  “Tell me we have a bargain or I will not speak. I will leave here and you will never see me again.”

  Daniel glanced at his son, who cast him a look of caution, before continuing. “We will come to an agreement but I am not sure Black Castle will be a part of it,” he said. “I have many fine men who I would chose to command Black Castle over a man who claims to be a kin to Black Sword.”

  Frederick hardened. “You will agree to put me in command of Black Castle when you breach her because I guarantee you will breach her with information I provide.”

  Daniel O’Byrne had been a warrior for almost thirty years. He had seen his share of hardship and of battle. He had also seen his share of traitors, of which this man evidently was. Traitors made him ill; he may have been a barbaric warrior, a knight of the lowest and most brutal form, but he could not tolerate treachery from men who had given their oath to others, even if that man was his worse enemy.

  Already, he didn’t like this man but he wanted whatever information he had, providing it wasn’t a lie. It was quite possible that Black Sword had sent this man to trick him. He would have to proceed carefully.

  “You cannot have everything your own way,” Daniel finally said. “If you want to make a bargain, then you will have to accept terms from me as well.”

  Frederick didn’t like that answer and his grip on the dirk, and his captive, tightened. “I want a guarantee that I will command Black Castle after you confiscate it.”

  Daniel could see he wasn’t going to get anywhere unless he promised the man what he wanted. Well, at least told him he could have it. He wasn’t about to promise a traitor, and an enemy, anything and still keep his word.

  “Fine,” he said shortly. “If that is all you want, then that is what you shall receive. Now tell me what this information is? Are the heavens about to open up and reveal a revelation?”

  Frederick didn’t let go of the dirk or the man; he continued to hold them both but not as tightly as before.

  “Swear it,” he said.

  “I don’t swear,” said Daniel.

  “Swear it upon your mother!”

  “I most certainly don’t swear on my mother,” Daniel said, his patience fading. “Tell me your business or I’ll order my men to kill you.”

  Frederick tensed again, eyeing the men in the room, a group that was numbering around twenty. He knew he wouldn’t make it out alive if O’Byrne ordered his men to swarm on him. So he backed up, ending up against the wall that was adjacent to the hearth. His dark eyes were nervous and edgy.

  “If you want to take Black Castle, now is the time,” he said. “De Bermingham is occupied with the de Cleveley settlement to the south. He fears they are planning to attack him, as Kildare did, so his focus is there. In fact, when last I spoke with him, he was planning on going to the settlement. He was leaving Black Castle.”

  Daniel was very interested. He knew that with Black Sword in the heart of any battle, his victory was assured. But if he had removed himself from Black Castle, then the fortress, and the men, would be without their beloved leader. And they would be vulnerable.

  “I see,” he said, contemplating. “Was he at the fortress when we attacked it those days ago?”

  Frederick nodded. “He was,” he said. “But it was his plan to leave Black Castle immediately after you retreated.”

  “He was going to the English settlement?”

  “Aye.”

  “How many men was he taking with him?”

  “None.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “None?” he repeated. “Then how does he plan to lay siege?”

  Frederick shook his head. “You misunderstand,” he said. “Black Sword has a spy in the settlement. He was returning to gather information. While he is gone, the fortress is not only compromised since the beating it took from your attack, but it is further vulnerable because de Bermingham is not there. Don’t you see? If you really want to destroy Black Sword and take his castle, now is the time.”

  Daniel looked at his son, who seemed to be taking the information quite literally. When Brandon spoke, it was to his father.

  “If what he says is true, then we would be foolish not to take advantage,” he said, but then he looked at Frederick. “If you are close to Black Sword as you say you are, then why are you so willing to betray him?”

  Frederick lost some of his confidence. He seemed to deflate, consumed with depression. “Because…,” he began, then recovered and stood tall. “Because he chooses others over me. I have always been true and faithful to him, but he would reward others before me. He will not listen to my advice. It is clear he has no use for me. I am an excellent commander and deserve all recognition.”

  “So this is about rewards?”

  “This is about getting what I deserve.”

  Brandon eyed his father a moment before continuing; they were starting to get into the heart of the traitor’s visit. “So you feel that you deserve more than Black Sword is willing to give,” he reiterated. “Does de Bermingham know this? Have you ever spoken to him about it?”

  “He will not listen to me.”

  “So you come here to betray him and to punish him.”

  “Aye.”

  Brandon believed him. “At least you are being honest,” he said. “Unlike my father, I have no reservations about placing you in command of Black Castle if we breach it. But you are going to help us ac
complish this.”

  “How?”

  Brandon crossed his arms; he was a bright young man with a cunning mind. He was about to prove it.

  “You will return to Black Castle,” he said. “In three days, on the rise of the full moon, you will open the gates and we will charge in. We will be hiding in the woods to the north of Black Castle and once the gate is unlocked, you will send us a signal. When we see the signal, we will come, and Black Castle shall be ours. Will you do this?”

  Frederick didn’t want to refuse him; he’d fled Black Castle after killing Shain and attempting to poison his cousin. He’d seen Devlin from a distance as he’d fled Black Castle, so he knew his attempt to murder him had failed. Naturally, he was reluctant to return, but if he wanted to prove his worth to O’Byrne, and if he wanted to have command of Black Castle when Devlin was deposed, then he had no choice. After a moment, he nodded faintly.

  “Very well,” he said. “I will return and open the gates for you. What sign would you have from me?”

  Brandon considered that for a moment. “Exit the open gates with two torches,” he said. “We will be able to see them from a distance. Wave them into the night and we will know the gates are open and come.”

  “I will have to do this without raising suspicion.”

  “That will be your problem. If we do not see the torches, we will not come because we will assume you have failed.”

  “I will not fail.”

  It was an acceptable plan. Frederick dropped the man he was holding and marched over to the table. As he reached it, he drew the sharp end of the dirk across his forearm, immediately drawing blood. It dripped onto the table top, rich and red. He pointed at the blood.

  “I swear by my blood that I will do this,” he said, his voice raspy and intense. “Mingle your blood with mine and swear you will uphold your end of the bargain. Do it now.”

  Brandon held the man’s gaze for a moment before moving to the table, taking the dirk from Frederick’s hand, and carving it into the flesh of his left forearm near the elbow. His blood dripped down his white flesh and onto the table, mingling with Frederick’s. Then, he planted the dirk right in the middle of the bloody patch.

  “There,” he said, sounding unhappy and irritated. “Now you have your promise. You will ride to Black Castle tomorrow morning and open the gates in three days upon the full of the moon. Betray us and we will hunt you down and make you pay. Is this is any way unclear?”

  Frederick smiled at him, a surprising gesture. “Betray me, and I shall do the same.”

  Brandon returned the smile, an odd and uncomfortable gesture. “Then we understand one another.”

  “We do indeed.”

  The next morning before sunrise, Frederick was on his way back to Black Castle, trying to figure out a way to gain access to the castle without getting killed in the process. The only logical solution was to plead forgiveness and hope Devlin was in a forgiving mood. He was sure he could placate the man and apologize, swearing he was not in his right mind when he acted in haste. He hoped it would be enough to get back into Devlin’s good graces.

  And then he would destroy him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Glenteige Castle

  Emllyn realized too late that she had been summoned to de Noble’s solar.

  Having spent the past two hours comforting Elyse against her father’s slander, truthful though it might be, Connaught had shown up at Elyse’s chamber door and had asked Emllyn to accompany him. He gave her some story about something happening in the kitchens and asked if she would attend to it on Elyse’s behalf. Not wanting to upset her friend further with minor tasks of the household, Emllyn had agreed.

  But it had been a trap. Connaught hadn’t taken her to the kitchens at all; as they were heading to the keep entry which would take them outside to the kitchens, he suddenly veered to the left and took her straightaway into de Noble’s solar. Once they were inside, he promptly removed her hand from his elbow, walked out, and shut the door behind him.

  Startled and instantly uneasy, Emllyn looked over to see de Noble standing behind his desk. He was predictably well-groomed, standing next to the lancet window and gazing out over the ward beyond. Emllyn’s surprise was turning to anger; she didn’t like being trapped. Without a word, she turned to open the door but de Noble’s voice stopped her.

  “Please,” he said rather loudly, causing Emllyn to pause with her hand on the latch. “Do not leave. I very much wish to apologize for my behavior earlier so I asked Connaught to bring you here. I knew you would not come if he told you I had summoned you.”

  Emllyn looked away from him. Her hand was still on the latch but she just stood there, looking at the floor. “And so you have apologized,” she said. “Surely you should be apologizing to your daughter and not to me.”

  De Noble turned to look at her as he came away from the window. “I will, in time,” he said. “But only for the way I spoke to her, not for the words I said. She has been making a mockery out of me for quite some time. She deserved everything I said.”

  Emllyn didn’t know what to say; she kept her hand on the latch and her gaze averted. “Will that be all, my lord?”

  De Noble made his way over to her. “Nay,” he replied. “In fact, you have made somewhat of a mockery of me as well.”

  Emllyn’s head snapped to him, her eyes ripe with fury. “For what?” she said. “For refusing your suit? If anyone has made a mockery of you, it is you. You do not know when to abide by a lady’s wishes; you push and push, making a fool of yourself over a woman who is clearly not interested in you.”

  By this time, de Noble had reached her. He came to a halt, his dark eyes glittering at her. “Mayhap,” he said softly. “I suppose it is my arrogance that drives me to do it. I keep telling myself that I am a patient man but the truth is that I am not. There is a beautiful and unwed woman in midst and I cannot help but succumb. May I ask a question, my lady?”

  Emllyn was frustrated and impatient, but she nodded her head shortly. “I suppose, if you must.”

  De Noble smiled faintly at her reaction. “What is it about me that you find so unappealing?”

  Emllyn tried not to look at him as she spoke, although his question had been gentle. She was struggling not to feel sorry for him.

  “You are not unappealing, my lord,” she said. “But if your daughter has told you anything about me, which I suspect she has, then you know I lost my love in my brother’s attack on Black Castle. That was a mere few weeks ago and I am still mourning his loss. I cannot even think of another man at the moment so I would appreciate it if you would give me that consideration.”

  De Noble nodded in understanding. “She did tell me that,” he said. “But she also told me that you and that farmer who brought you here, John, were lovers.”

  Emllyn rolled her eyes. “John saved my life,” she said flatly. “That does not mean we are lovers. He is a very kind man and he made me feel safe. What is so terrible about that?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And even if we were lovers, that would make me the whore you accused your daughter of being, so why would you want to pursue a relationship with a whore?”

  De Noble just looked at her, intently. One moment, he was standing there and in the next he was pulling Emllyn into a crushing embrace. His mouth came down on hers, brutally, and Emllyn slapped him so hard that the man lost his grip on her. As de Noble stumbled back, looking both startled and horrified, Emllyn threw open the solar door.

  “Try that again and I shall ram my knee into your manhood so hard that you’ll be spitting blood for a week,” she snarled. “You are nothing but an old, silly fool, de Noble. Stay away from me!”

  As she marched out into the foyer beyond, leaving de Noble in stunned silence, a soldier suddenly rushed in through the big, open entry. He looked around frantically in the dim light of the foyer and, spying de Noble in the doorway to his solar, he rushed the man.

  “My lord!” he said swiftly. “We
have sighted an incoming party.”

  De Noble wiped at the corner of his mouth, slightly bloodied from Emllyn’s clip. “Who are they?” he asked. “Can you tell?”

  The sentry shook his head. “We are not sure, my lord,” he replied. “But they are coming from the north.”

  Black Castle is to the north! Emllyn paused in her haste to leave de Noble, her heart leaping into her throat. De Noble didn’t even look at her as he walked past her and out into the ward beyond and Emllyn hardly cared; she was happy to have the man well away from her but more than that, she was thrilled with the prospect that Devlin might actually be returning. Was it possible? The mere idea swamped her until her pulse pounded and her breathing came in funny little gasps.

  Knowing she would receive a much better view of the village and the subsequent outlying areas from the smaller third floor chamber that was usually kept available for visiting guests, Emllyn gathered her skirts and raced up the stairs.

  Her heart was throbbing in her ears as she reached the third floor and bolted into the empty chamber with its naked bedframe and sparse furnishings. This chamber was situated so that it had a view of the north and west with a big oriel window much the same as the one Emllyn had. Eagerly, she climbed upon the windowsill as much as she dared and strained to catch a glimpse of the incoming party.

  In nervous silence, she settled down to wait.

  They could see the de Cleveley settlement in the distance, a great spattering of stone and thatched buildings and the walls that enclosed them, and right in the middle was the tall and stately keep. As Devlin and Victor, leading the pack of English prisoners, drew close enough to the settlement to see the sentries on the walls, Devlin turned to Victor.

  “Now,” he said, eyeing the village in the distance, “if my treacherous commander has made it here before me, then they will be waiting for me, I am sure. Since I do not wish to walk into a trap, you and your men will wait here and I will continue on to the gates where I will ask to speak with the commander. I am fairly certain at that point I will know if Frederick has made it here before me. De Noble’s reaction upon seeing me will tell me much.”