“The Labatrelle men who worked for Maurice are close by. I sent a dispatch to them earlier. They are on their way. Some will be here before nightfall. The rest should arrive in the morning.”
“I had an interesting few hours,” Isabella said as she breezed in. “I spoke with any of the Labatrelle workers I could find. It seems all Louis talks about lately is how you stood with them spreading manure. Three who no longer work are eager to help. They are on their way to the winery. I came here to tell you before I returned to help them.”
One look at Isabella and he had second thoughts about his commitment with the guild. Hugh had more than enough funds, but he needed the funds now. He could not get a note to Gershon in time.
With little money left, he needed some way to pay for the harvest. He’d asked Olivier for a loan. If that wasn’t painful enough, he needed to provide security.
He signed an agreement Olivier suggested. If the loan could not be paid, the ownership of the lower field would go to the guild. The burden of responsibility weighed heavily on him.
“What have I done?” he mumbled.
“Did you say something?” she asked him.
He wrenched himself out of his self-pity and faced her. “I said, you have done well.”
Isabella’s eyes lit at his praise.
Would she feel the same way if they failed and the prime area of the vineyard was lost? At least Isabella and Jeanne Marie would still have a place to live. “I need to return and help the men.”
“Look, Graham. More men are coming.” Isabella pointed toward the river. Dozens of men trudged up the path from Châlons. They congregated in the winery courtyard where Louis gave them orders to work their way across the upper field. The lower one would be harvested last. Graham, driving the wagon brought baskets to the field ready for the pickers. When he returned to the courtyard Louis came toward him.
“There are enough grapes to do the first pressing. If we can keep this pace, we should be able to harvest all the grapes in five days.” A noise caught Louis’ attention. “No, don’t put the grapes there. Bring them into the pressing room.”
Louis hurried off to help the others.
Graham filled the wagon with the last load of baskets and returned to the field. Everyone worked hard. They stayed in the field long after the sun set, until they couldn’t see the bunches of grapes on the vine.
“That will be all for tonight. Go get some rest. We start again at dawn.” Louis went up and down the fields making sure everyone put their full baskets on the wagon. He stayed behind to see how much they completed and where they needed to spend their time tomorrow.
At the winery, the burst of activity was exciting. The last baskets of grapes were destemmed, the fruit put into the presses. Graham stood at the door as the men left making sure to thank each one.
Louis arrived. “Will you join us at the chateau?” Graham asked, as he bid the last man farewell.
“Not tonight. With the extra men, we’ll be able to station more guards protecting the field. Each man did more than I expected. They clipped the bunches with care and were quick with their work. We may be able to get the picking completed in four days.” Louis left with the others.
“Don’t stay too late. We’ll need you in the morning.” Louis nodded as he left.
Exhausted, he and Isabella came into the kitchen. “Did you close the gate?”
“Yes Jeanne Marie.” Graham could hardly move.
“Good. Go rest while I get you something to eat,” Jeanne Marie almost pushed him out of the kitchen.
He sat in the chair by the hearth. The day had been difficult from beginning to end. He smiled. Four more days.
Day Five at the Winery
In the morning, the second day of the harvest started with a brilliant red sky.
“Louis,” Graham hailed him as he came onto the field. “How goes it?”
“The men who patrolled the field reported no incidents. People were waiting for me here for baskets.”
It was another grueling day. After two days of long hours, he, along with Isabella and Jeanne Marie, returned to the chateau.
Tired but elated, tomorrow they would harvest the lower field. If they could maintain the pace, they could be finished picking grapes this time tomorrow.
Too tired to eat, Graham fell asleep in the solar.
The wind in his hair felt good. With groggy eyes he peered ahead. He headed for a high stone wall. He felt Merlin’s bunching muscles beneath him. He couldn’t get his body to stop the steed. They were almost at the wall.
“Whoa, Merlin. Come around.” The horse picked up speed. He glanced at the wall. It was as high as the curtain wall around the king’s castle.
The drumming of another set of hooves was next to him. Fleur. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t make out who was on Fleur’s back. If he couldn’t stop the madness, he needed to see to it that he did everything possible to make the jump a success. He buried his head into Merlin’s neck.
“Come on boy. Fly,” he whispered in Merlin’s ear. The horse bunched his body and sprang forward. He turned to see if Fleur and the other rider was with him. “Bella?” He couldn’t see. The woman turned and her brilliant smile faded into nothing. “Graham.”
Shaken awake, he opened then blinked his eyes. Slumped in the chair, his legs stretched toward the hearth, his arms behind his head, rested on the chair’s low back. His eyes focused and now looked at who was shaking him.
“Graham.” Isabella’s voice was firm and final.
He sat up, every muscle alert for action.
“Thank goodness you are awake. Louis needs your help. There’s a cold fog tonight.”
“Frost.” He faced the dark window unable to see anything but the flickering of lanterns in the vineyard.
“The fires must be lit. We worked so hard.” There were tears in her eyes. “We can’t lose now.”
“No.” He turned to her. “We won’t.” He rushed to the vineyard and found Louis directing everyone to their area.
Dozens of men lit the fires. Long warm fingers of smoke crept low to the ground until the smoke blanketed and protected the entire hill.
“Where did all these people come from?” he asked Louis.
“Some were sent by Olivier. The others…” Louis said.
“And the others?” Graham asked.
“Isabella spent the afternoon visiting each of the men who worked at Labatrelle. You should speak to them. I think you’ll find what they say very interesting. Come. Jeanne Marie brought mulled wine for them at the pressing room.”
Graham made his way back to the winery and entered the pressing room.
“To Graham,” the men cheered. As he walked through the crowd, some shook his hand, others pounded his back. He reached the front and the room quieted.
With a smile and gratitude, he took his time and looked each man in the eye, connecting with them, thanking them in his own silent way.
“I don’t know what to say. I am humbled by your concern and gratified by your action. Labatrelle Winery thanks you, the countess thanks you, Isabella and Jeanne Marie thank you, and I thank you.”
Another cheer went up.
“Everyone,” Louis called out from his position at the other end of the room. In unison, every head turned and faced him.
“Tomorrow is another day. We can harvest the rest of the grapes, press and ready them for fermenting. So not too much of the mulled wine.” A tired laugh rumbled through the room. “I need those of you who are standing watch to go to your posts. And you have my thanks for a job well done tonight. Until tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. He almost lost everything tonight. The least of which was the grapes.
He searched for her in the crowd and found her in a knot of men laughing. His chest swelled watching her. Her eyes met his and for the moment no one else was in the room. Olivier stepped in front of him blocking his view.
“You are becoming quite the wine maker.”
“Olivier, I didn�
��t expect to see you here.”
“If you look closely you may be surprised at who came to help. Almost every winery owner is here. We help our own. Sleep well.” He lifted an almost empty tankard of mulled wine. “The prize was well worth it.”
Olivier put the tankard down and left. The room was almost empty.
“Most of the men who worked and lived here came back,” Isabella said.
“Thanks to you speaking to each one. Where had they been?”
“Nolan told them that Miles instructed him to lock them out of their houses and force them to work for someone else. How else can Nolan hurt us?” she asked.
“He stole from the winery account.” She stared at him as if he just pulled the king himself from his pocket. He could imagine the thoughts flying in her head unable to match the words to the man. He didn’t look forward to telling her the rest.
“This cannot be. Nolan wanted to teach Charlotte a lesson. He hasn’t stolen any money. It’s Charlotte or rather her wealthy husband—”
“My brother,” he interrupted. “I work with Charlotte and Hugh.”
She stared at him coldly. “Your brother who hasn’t sent money in months. I’m sorry to say it, but it is true. Why would Nolan steal from the winery? Half of it is his.”
“Is that what he told you? That half of the winery, the chateau, and the land is his?”
Her temper had cooled. He had sown a bit of doubt in her mind.
“When your brother remembers there are people here that depend on his generosity, it is me who shares what he sends with Nolan. He takes what he needs to keep the winery functioning.”
“Nolan hasn’t been truthful with you.”
She whipped around and faced him. “Have you?”
For a moment, he was too startled by her words to put up any objection.
“Yes. I have,” he said his voice soft and calm.
“Of course you would say you have.” Isabella held up her hand before he said anything more. “We’ve both worked hard. I don’t want to argue.”
He agreed with her. He would make her listen. Now, he didn’t want to quarrel about Nolan. It would take solid proof to change her mind and at the moment he had no idea where to find the agreement. As for Nolan’s spending, all the money was accounted for and appeared genuine, at least on the surface. He expressed his concerns to Gershon. They both agreed a thorough review of the account was in order. The money lender put everything aside and promised to have his results as soon as possible.
He looked over her head. “Everyone is gone, including your grandmother. We should go, too. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”
“We can rest when we finish harvesting the grapes,” he said as they approached the chateau.
“Rest? Now is when the real work starts. The grapes must be destemmed, pressed and set to ferment at once or the sweetness is lost. If that happens you might as well spill the whole lot out.” She started for the gate.
Graham pulled her back staring in front of them. The gate stood wide open.
“Stay here.” He started through the courtyard.
Isabella hesitated but a moment before she was fast on his heels.
The door to the house was ajar. Flattened against the wall, he peered in through the window. Jean Marie was the only person in the room. She sat gagged and tied up in a chair. She whipped her head toward the window. Her eyes were wild with fear.
He put his forefinger to his lips. She nodded. Glad she understood, he had no idea how long he had before whomever was in the house returned, but he had to get her out.
Graham glanced at Isabella and signaled her to stay where she was. She gave a curt nod. Another scan inside the room and he was ready. He took out his dirk and stole into the kitchen.
Without a sound, he made his way to her chair. He didn’t say anything. With one quick stroke he sliced through the knot that held her in place.
Ready to remove the rope, a sound in the hall made him freeze. He hurried to the doorway to the solar and flattened himself against the wall. He held his dirk ready to attack.
“She’s nice and quiet. Hasn’t moved.”
Felix. Graham’s anger became a scolding fury. Nolan was here.
Felix’s footsteps retreated into the solar.
Graham rushed to Jeanne Marie. She already had the gag out of her mouth and dropped it on the table. He pulled off the ropes and got her out the door. She fell into Isabella’s arms. He didn’t let them stop. He moved them behind the house to the gardener’s shed where they would not be seen.
Chapter Seven
“Who is inside?” Isabella asked. She blamed herself for not seeing to her grand-mère. Her concern for the winery, along with her discussions with Graham about Nolan, dominated her thoughts. She glanced at Graham. Felix wasn’t here on his own.
Her outburst against his brother had been wrong. She’d heard the words coming out of her mouth but couldn’t stop them. Attack his brother, this man whose family meant everything to him. How was she going to make things right with him? Give him time. Let his temper cool.
“Nolan, Felix, and Hector,” her grand-mère said.
“How did they get in?” she asked. “You always make sure the gate is locked.”
A sheepish look spread across the older woman’s face.
“Several of the men helped me bring the tankards in from the winery. They all left—”
“Except Nolan, Felix, and Hector,” Isabella said.
“Nolan kept telling me to give him the treasure.” As Isabella attended to grand-mère’s chafed wrists, she listened to her tell them what happened.
“What treasure?” Graham gave her a quizzical look.
“The Holy Land treasure,” Isabella said. “Nolan questioned me about it a while ago. I told him there was nothing of any value. You saw what Maurice had, a bone, piece of wood, and strip of leather. He had no proof they were relics. They were charms soldiers had with them on the battlefield. Charms to protect them. The soldiers gave him the trinkets for protection before they died.
“At times he sat and looked at them. How foolish, he would say. What use was their charms? They didn’t protect them. If they had those soldier would be sitting with him drinking his wine. But with their dying breath they pressed the items into his hand. How could he deny them? Discarding these things would be discarding the soldiers. So, he kept them and honored them.”
“Hector tied me up.” Jeanne Marie said. “Nolan told me he would go through the house room by room until he found it.”
“Both of you stay here, and not a word.” Graham eyed the area and listened carefully. Finally, he stepped out of the shed.
Isabella grabbed his arm as a quick and disturbing thought filled her head. She might be angry at his brother, even her close friend, but she was afraid for him. “You’re not going into the house?”
She almost stepped back at the anger in his eyes.
“I told Nolan what would happen if he and his men came back. I am a man of my word.”
The set of his jaw and breadth of his chest told her the iron-willed warrior intended to make Nolan pay.
Without another word, he left them.
His cause was admirable, but there were three of them and only one of him. She stepped outside.
“Where are you going?” Her grand-mère pulled her around.
“This is more our home than his. Stay here and don’t leave.” She slipped out of her grasp and followed him back into the kitchen.
“Out,” he whispered.
She stood her ground.
“Out,” he growled.
“Sh-h-h. Listen.” She held up her hand.
“The chateau is too big. Spread out,” Nolan said. “It must be here someplace.”
Graham pushed her behind him and took his battle stance.
Felix came into the room and stood fixed to the spot, his face blank at seeing the empty chair.
Her hands flew to her mouth when Graham tapped him on the shoulder, his other arm b
ack, his hand fisted and ready. The thief turned. His confusion was evident. Before he could raise an alarm, Graham’s fist burst forward and found its mark: Felix’s jaw.
The man fell like a stone, but Graham was ready. He heaved him onto the chair, grabbed the rag from the table stuffed it in his mouth, and tied him to the chair.
She was still against the wall when Hector’s head popped through the doorway, his knife drawn. Her lips pressed tightly together so she wouldn’t make a sound. Without thinking, she grabbed the iron pan that hung on the wall and hit Hector on the head.
Graham swung around as Hector stumbled into the dishes bringing them crashing to the floor.
She ran to help Graham but was pulled back.
“Let me go,” she screamed and tried to pry the vise-like grip from around her waist. Her leg brushed up against a sword. Without glancing at it she knew it was Graham’s.
Graham swung around and stepped toward Nolan.
“Stay where you are. I don’t want to hurt her.” Nolan tightened his grip and made it impossible for her to move her arms.
“Nolan, let me go.” Her voice was low, her tone calm.
Anger rolled off Graham in waves so fierce she could feel them. She had to keep Nolan talking until she could think of something, anything to end this.
“Not until you tell me where you’re hiding the treasure.”
She kept her eyes on Graham. He hadn’t moved.
“I told you there is no treasure.”
“Your friend Eldon told me Maurice showed him the treasure without measure he brought back from the Crusades. I asked him to tell me more. He told me the treasure belonged to Maurice and to ask him.”
She suddenly burst into a loud cackle. She would have doubled over if Nolan wasn’t holding her. She tried to stifle the outburst several times, but it started up again. She glanced at Graham. He still hadn’t moved.
“Stop laughing,” Nolan said, shaking her.
Graham: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 2) Page 9