Rhys had tears streaming down his face as he held his son. He never wanted to let him go. But he released him after several long moments, stepping back and holding the young man’s face between his hands, inspecting him closely. He had grown to look a good deal like him and Rhys smiled as the tears continued to fall.
“I have dreamt of this moment more than you can know,” he murmured. “I am sorry, Maddoc. Sorry that I had to leave you. But given the circumstances, it was better that you stayed with your grandmother. I could not take the chance that you would come into danger, too.”
Maddoc nodded his head, tears of his own muddying his vision. “I know,” he tried to sound braver than he felt. “Uncle Rod told me everything. I must admit, I was shocked. I had grown up thinking you were dead. I feel… I feel like I have been reborn somehow and given a second chance to know you. How many sons can say that?”
He was so well spoken; Rhys felt his heart swell with pride. He couldn’t help himself; he kissed the boy on both cheeks as he released him.
“Not many,” he wiped at the tears on his face, still staring at him, unable to take his eyes from him. But his gaze eventually moved to the armor the young man wore and it looked vaguely familiar. He touched it. “This armor… I believe I know it.”
“You do,” Rod stepped forward and clapped Maddoc on the shoulder. “This is the armor you left behind when you fled with Elizabeau those years ago. We gave it to Maddoc. We did not think you would mind.”
Rhys shook his head, sniffling away the last of his tears. “I do not, of course,” he said. “Are you a knight, then?”
Maddoc nodded proudly. “I was sworn in after the new year. I serve Christopher de Lohr.”
Rhys stared at him. “De Lohr?”
“Because of you, he accepted my fealty as a legacy.”
Rod stuck his nose into the conversation again. “Do not let him fool you,” he said. “The lad is a marvelous knight, just as his father was. Just look at him; he’s big and strong, and he has your quiet wisdom. He’s quite remarkable; de Lohr couldn’t wait to get his hands on him.”
Rhys’ smile was back, proudly gazing upon his son. He swore that if he felt any more happiness, he would burst. “I cannot tell you how much it pleases me to know this,” he touched the young man on the face, hardly able to find the words to describe what he was feeling. “But there is so much more to speak of. Please come inside and let us become better acquainted. You can meet your brothers and sisters.”
Maddoc nodded, taking his horse by the reins and standing by his father in preparation for the trek to the castle. They just stared at each other for a moment, still in disbelief. Rod took his own animal and they began to walk back towards Bellay.
“What has happened to you in all this time?” Rod asked, his gaze falling on the enormously tall bastion in the distance. “We find you a garrison commander for your father?”
Rhys lifted an eyebrow. “The past twelve years have seen many adventures and many changes. For one, my father died years ago and my eldest brother shortly thereafter. My second oldest brother now assumes the title of Duke and has given me this appointment. Moreover, I do not use the name du Bois. I use my rightful birth name of de Foix.”
Rod nodded. “David told me. Armand de Foix, is it?”
Rhys nodded. “Both Elizabeau and I have been living under assumed names. My children are de Foix as well.”
Rod nodded in understanding, his gaze repeatedly moving to his brother as if he still could not believe he found the man. He finally put a hand on his shoulder, touching him, so very glad to be with him again. There was so much to say, so much to ask, but at the moment he could only think of one thing.
“Tell me something, brother,” he said softly. “Was it worth it?”
Rhys’ lips twitched with a smile. As he opened his mouth to reply, he suddenly heard distant cries and he looked up to see Elizabeau walking underneath the raised portcullis with several children in tow. His heart swelled at the sight of her and he could feel tears in his eyes once more. Without a word, he walked over to Maddoc, took the reins of his horse, and handed them to Rod. Then he took Maddoc by the elbow, eyeing his brother as he did so.
“Every tear, every fear, every joy and every heartache has been well worth the price,” he said quietly, waving at his wife when she lifted her hand in greeting. “I would do it again a thousand times over for that woman, make no mistake. She is my dream come true.”
Rod smiled as he watched his brother lead Maddoc down the road to introduce him to the rest of the family. Rod started to follow, but a word from Rhett stopped him.
“Wait, boy,” he said softly. “Let Maddoc meet his family before we intrude. Let the lad live his dream.”
Rod almost asked him who he meant; Rhys or Maddoc. But the more he thought on it, the statement applied to either man. But mostly, Rod thought it applied to Rhys. As Rod and Rhett watched, Elizabeau suddenly threw her arms around Maddoc and hugged him tightly. Rhys, not to be left out, put his arms around them both and was joined by a host of du Bois children hugging and laughing. They could see the little ones dancing around.
Together, the family swarmed Maddoc. Life, for them, had come full circle.
* THE END *
‘He hath awakened from the dream of life—’
~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed Rhys and Elizabeau’s story. It was great fun to write this novel – firstly, because I love Rhys so much and secondly because I was able to incorporate the de Lohr brothers into this story. They are my favorite go-to characters and are in four of my novels – Spectre of the Sword, Archangel, Rise of the Defender, and Unending Love. Their father and mother are central characters in While Angels Slept, so the de Lohr Dynasty is well incorporated into my novels.
And young Maddoc, the little boy Rhys left behind when he fled… well, don’t feel bad for him because he gets his own story in Unending Love and Rhys makes an appearance. In fact, a bonus chapter of Unending Love is included in this novel, so enjoy it! It’s one of my very favorite stories!
Thank you for reading!
UNENDING LOVE
A Medieval Romance
By Kathryn Le Veque
For Lord MR, Linda, Kris, & Rozz –
Thank you for your encouragement and patience! Now, here it is – read it!
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
You become an image of what is remembered forever.
~ excerpt from “Unending Love” by Rabindranath Tagore
CHAPTER ONE
Canterbury Castle, England
The Month of May, 1234 A.D.
He could hear the battle before he ever entered the bailey.
Swords clashing, one against the other, echoed off the great stone walls of Canterbury Castle, ancient barriers with some Roman origin that had seen much war and strife throughout the centuries. The knight’s trip had been a relatively leisurely journey up until that point. He was returning from France on a spring day that had shown remarkable weather for the eight and a half miles it took to get from disembarking his ship at Herne Bay to Canterbury Castle.
But the sounds of distant warfare had him snapping into battle mode. The road was rocky and uneven as he thundered towards the castle astride his new gray Belgian charger, a gift from his father. The horse had been cooped up on a boat for over a day and was feeling energetic, which meant he was having a devil of a time controlling the beast as it raced towards the enormous castle compound. The wrestling was distracting him from his battle-readiness.
The knight bellowed at the sentries on the wall as he approached and the men, recognizing both his voice and his armor, began to lift the steel-fanged portcullis from its already half-open position. By the time he pounded through the Roman arch of the gatehouse that lead to the keep, he was bloody well angry at his new horse as well as deeply conc
erned over the sounds of a battle. It made for a snappish situation.
As the knight entered the ward, he didn’t have far to look to find the source of the swordplay. Two well-armed knights were slugging it out just inside the gate, trying to kill each other in the area between the gatehouse and the massive keep. The knight on horseback unsheathed his enormous broadsword as he charged towards them, yanking his enthusiastic charger to a halt and trying not to lose his balance as he dismounted. The horse didn’t seem to want to come to a complete halt, which meant the knight nearly lost his footing with the momentum. But he was off his horse, broadsword gleaming wickedly in the early afternoon sun. He was ready for battle.
Although the knight was focused on the combatants, he could see people in his peripheral vision, standing and watching. As he swung his broadsword in a swift, controlled motion, preparing to enter the fight, he could hear hissing off to his right.
“Maddoc,” someone was calling his name. “Maddoc, hold.”
Sir Maddoc du Bois came to an unsteady halt. The only reason he stopped at all was because he recognized the voice. He could see his liege, David de Lohr, Earl of Canterbury, standing on the great retractable stairs that led up into Canterbury’s red-stoned keep. David was waving him over. Broadsword still flexed defensively in front of him, Maddoc edged his way over to his liege.
His expression, once stone-hard and focused, was now rippling with some confusion. “My lord?” he asked as he drew near. “What goes on here?”
David, a handsome man with graying blond hair who had been a very great knight in his youth, was actually grinning. More than that, he looked very calm for a man with two knights battling it out in front of him. He crooked his finger at Maddoc, beckoning him closer. Maddoc obeyed.
“Those two idiots have been dueling for about an hour,” he told him. “Leave them alone. One of them is about to break the other soon.”
That explanation didn’t help Maddoc’s confusion. Still, he had his sword up as he watched the two men try to kill each other. But he was beginning to see exhaustion in their movements now that David had brought it to his attention.
“What goes on, my lord?” he asked the obvious question. “Who are they?”
David chuckled. “Adalind is home.”
Maddoc had no idea what the man was speaking of. “What do you mean?”
David accepted a dented chalice of ale from a servant who emerged from the keep and extended it to him. His eyes were on the fighters as he spoke to Maddoc.
“Adalind,” he repeated. “My granddaughter – Christina’s daughter, the one who has been at court these five years past. You remember Adalind, do you not?”
Maddoc did. He nodded his head. “Of course, my lord,” he replied. “The little girl with the…” He caught himself before he could say it. The little girl with the buck teeth who used to follow me around like a lost puppy. Instead, he cleared his throat and tried to cover his stumble. “The little girl with the hair down to her knees. I remember her well.”
David laughed softly. “You are too tactful for your own good, Maddoc,” he replied. “She was the girl with teeth like a rabbit and a penchant for making a nuisance out of herself. For some reason, she liked you in particular although I have no idea why.”
He spoke the last few words drolly. Maddoc gave him a half-grin, finally lowering his sword as the two knights continued to hack away at each other. It was no great secret that Maddoc du Bois was a man of great honor, skill, and had a particular reputation for being an object of many ladies’ affections.
With black hair, bright blue eyes and an enormously muscular build, Maddoc had more female admirers than he could handle. He was a great knight from a long line of great knights and something of a legend. De Lohr liked to say there was a star in the sky for every heart Maddoc had unknowingly broken and he said it quite a bit. Not wanting to hear that overused adage again, Maddoc diverted the subject by gesturing at the battling knights.
“That still does not explain why I could hear a sword battle a half-mile away,” he said. “Who are these two and why have you not driven them away?”
David took a long drink of his ale, watching the spectacle like a good sporting event. “They followed Adalind from Winchester,” he said, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Meet Rolfe ap Athoe and Deinwald ap Athoe, brothers who are attempting to woo my granddaughter. At least, they were attempting to woo her, one from the other, until the nooning meal where upon Deinwald insulted his brother and this has been going on ever since. I am anxious to see which fool falls first because neither one of them are worthy of her.”
That explained a great deal. So there was no crisis, only morons battling to the death over a woman. Maddoc unlatched his helm and pulled it off, wearily, raking a hand through his black hair as he watched the two ap Athoe brothers succumb to bone-grinding exhaustion. Now they were simply swiping at each other more than they were actually doing battle. Maddoc watched a moment longer before shaking his head.
“Are you sure you do not want me to break this up?” he asked. “They are making an embarrassing spectacle of the knighthood and I find that I am personally offended by the display.”
David drained his ale cup, laughing in between swallows. “You are the upholder of knightly honor, Maddoc. Are you sure you would not rather see them beat each other to a pulp?”
Maddoc just looked at him. Then, with a shrug, he handed David his broadsword and marched purposefully over to the two combatants who were, by now, showing serious signs of collapse. In full armor and with great mail and leather gloves, Maddoc walked up to the pair and reached out fearlessly to disarm the first knight. The second knight was disarmed shortly thereafter and both broadswords were tossed to the ground several feet away.
Without missing a beat, Maddoc balled a fist and punched the first knight on the jaw so hard that the man went flying back on his arse, skidding to an unconscious heap. With one knight down, Maddoc turned to the second warrior, the taller one, and did the same thing to him. The tall knight fell like a rock at Maddoc’s massive blow.
Several men-at-arms were standing around, watching, clapping and laughing when du Bois finished off the battling pair. But Maddoc didn’t spare a reaction to the applause.
“Pick up those broadswords and hide them,” he commanded. “If those two want their weapons returned, tell them to see me personally and we shall have a discussion about the idiocy of a swordfight over a woman.”
As the soldiers moved to do their commander’s bidding, David came down from the stairs and clapped Maddoc on a big shoulder.
“You are much like your father,” he said, grinning. “Rhys would not tolerate foolishness, either.”
“He still doesn’t.”
“And how is your father? Did your visit go well?”
Maddoc nodded. “Very well,” he replied. “My father is enjoying excellent health and is showing no signs of slowing down even though he has my three brothers to help him rule and administer the fiefdom of Bellay. My uncle, the Duke of Navarre, gifted the lands to my father a few years ago. They are very rich lands.”
“I remember,” David nodded. “And how is your stepmother?”
“Elizabeau is very well also. She sends her good wishes and affections.”
Now up to date on the health and welfare of Maddoc’s parents, David put a hand on Maddoc’s shoulder and directed the knight towards the keep. “I am glad your visit went well,” he said. “But I am also glad you have returned. When my captain of the guard leaves, even for a week or two, we all feel rather lost around here. As you can see, much has happened in your absence.”
Maddoc lifted his dark eyebrows, arched over those brilliant blue eyes. “So I see,” he said. “But I do not recall that Lady Adalind was returning from Winchester. I thought she was a permanent fixture there, hoping to be a lady-in-waiting for the queen.”
Some of David’s humor faded. “That was her hope,” he said. “She has great aspirations, you know. With all of my brot
her’s connections, we were able to place her very well within the court hierarchy. But it seems that my granddaughter has some enemies at court.”
David’s older brother was the mighty Christopher de Lohr, the Earl of Hereford and Worcester and one-time champion of Richard the Lionheart. His political contacts were deep and endless. Maddoc frowned at the last sentence.
“Enemies?” he repeated. “Why?”
David shrugged. “Evidently, some of the senior ladies-in-waiting have taken to gossiping against her,” he said, lowering his voice as they mounted the steps for the keep. “It took both Christina and my wife some time to drag it out of her but, from what they can make of it, there was much attention on Adalind of the male persuasion and the other women were jealous. So Adalind has come home but the men seemed to have followed her.”
Maddoc paused at the top of the steps, the big Norman arch herring-bone pattern doorway hovering overhead.
“Was she sent home in disgrace?” he asked.
David shook his head. “Nay,” he said quietly. “It seemed to be her choice. Some of the women were quite mean to her from what I gather and she’d had enough.”
“Shall I ride to Winchester to avenge her?”
David grinned. “You would, wouldn’t you?” He slapped Maddoc on the shoulder and stepped inside the entry. “I do not see a need for that, although I appreciate your offer. Come greet Adalind and see what the years have done for her. How long has it been since you last saw her?”
Maddoc followed the man into the cool, dark entry with the great hall just beyond. Canterbury actually had two halls; a giant separate building in a corner of the bailey for more formal feasts and a smaller one inside the keep that the family used. However, it was still an enormous room with big stone columns. It was warmly lit and he could see movement inside. He felt comforted to be in the big, old keep, as it had been his home for a number of years, and the smell of smoke and fresh rushes settled him.
Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances Page 33