Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Now, they were returning to assist the de Lohrs for one final and great mission, old men who would answer the call of duty one last time. It was both a pleasing and sobering thought, given the circumstances for the reunion. Still, Christopher rolled his eyes at his brother’s statement. He couldn’t help himself.

  “You must be insane,” he muttered. “Gart will roll over Norfolk like the hand of God and obliterate him completely. He will burn East Anglia to the roots and smite all to dust. Once he is finished with that, he will chop Norfolk and anyone associated with him into little pieces and feed them to the dogs. The man is the devil.”

  David grinned wearily at the dramatic interpretation of Gart Forbes’ attributes. “That may be, but if you had to pick one man to rescue one of your womenfolk, who would it be?”

  Christopher wasn’t hard pressed to acknowledge the point. He puffed out his cheeks and sighed heavily. “I suppose it would be Forbes.”

  “I thought so.”

  They were nearing the keep, lost in conversation, when a shout came from the gatehouse. David and Christopher turned to see a big knight astride a bulky brown warhorse approach. The horse was full of spirit and the knight rode him effortlessly. David’s expression, so recently heavy with grief, washed with joy and recognition.

  “Daniel,” he breathed.

  Christopher grinned. “I ran into him on the road about an hour go, heading in our direction,” he said. “I forgot to tell you that I found your prodigal son.”

  David was so glad to see Daniel that there were tears in his eyes. He smiled with true delight as Daniel brought his charger to a halt and dismounted.

  Tall like his Uncle Christopher but with his father’s chiseled features and deep blue eyes, Daniel Hampton de Lohr, Lord Thornden, looked like a Viking god. Blond, muscular, and something of a wandering spirit, he smiled broadly at his father as he removed his helm. Then he opened his arms and sucked the man into a powerful embrace.

  “Greetings, Father,” he said, releasing his father so he could look the man in the eye. “Imagine my surprise when I ran into Uncle Christopher’s army. He said that you called him to Canterbury.”

  David touched his son’s cheek as if to reassure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. It had been months since he’d last seen his boy.

  “We were expecting you last week,” he said. “What kept you?”

  Daniel shrugged carelessly. “A lovely baron’s daughter in Dorset,” he said. “In fact, her father wishes to speak with you but do not listen to him. I did none of those things he has accused me of.”

  Daniel truly had a lively, devil-may-care personality. He was the life of any gathering, the wit of any party. He was loved and revered by his family and friends. As Christopher snorted at his nephew, David shook his head reproachfully.

  “Another father I must pay off because of a compromised daughter?” he said, outrage in his tone. “I have raised you better than that, Daniel. What am I going to tell your mother – again?”

  Daniel laughed, mostly because his uncle was laughing and it truly was funny to watch his father stew.

  “Tell her I am a rake and a cad, and that no woman should ever trust me.” He snorted when his father scowled, and put his arms around the man again, hugging him and kissing his head. “I jest with you, I promise. I simply like to see those veins on the side of your head throb.”

  David just shook his head again, somewhat disgusted, but mostly thrilled. He loved his son more than anything on earth, rascal that he was.

  “So now you have,” he said. “Satisfied?”

  Daniel grinned. “Until the next time,” he said. Then, his gaze moved over the keep he hadn’t seen in a long time. “You did not answer my question – why is Uncle Christopher and his army here? What is happening?”

  David’s good humor left him. He was dreading telling Daniel given that he and Maddoc were very good friends. He had no idea how his son was going to take the news.

  “Adalind returned home from fostering a couple of weeks ago,” he said quietly. “I know you are aware of the history between Addie and Maddoc, so I know you will be surprised when I tell you that Maddoc has asked for Adalind’s hand in marriage.”

  Daniel’s face lit up and he crowed with laughter. “Oh, my giddy young man,” he howled. “How on earth did this happen? She used to follow him around to the point of madness and now he… well, I simply cannot believe any of this, not until I have spoken to him myself. He has a lot of explaining to do, that foolish whelp. Where is he?”

  Looking forward to harassing Maddoc about the turn of events with Adalind, Daniel started to push past his father so he could seek out his reckless friend. David grabbed him before he could get away.

  “Daniel, listen to me,” he said. “Adalind had other suitors. They showed up here in droves and Maddoc chased them all away except one. This knight, named de Royans, asked for Adalind’s hand. When I denied him, he challenged Maddoc. I am afraid Maddoc was badly injured in the fight and the knight absconded with Adalind. Maddoc is inside the keep but he is very ill. The physic thinks he may die. Your uncle is here because we must go after Adalind and rescue her from the knight that took her.”

  As he neared the end of his sentence, he could see that Daniel’s features had gone from happy and laughing to disbelief and grief. Daniel stared at his father, stunned, as the words sank deep.

  “Maddoc is dying?” he repeated. Even as the words left his mouth, he shook his head. “That is impossible.”

  “I am afraid not.”

  “It is!”

  “Nay, Daniel, it is not.”

  Daniel’s grief grew as he realized his father was very serious. “But he is the best knight I have ever seen – the best knight England has ever seen. There is no way in which he could have been injured in a fight. He is too damned talented.”

  David could see that Daniel was growing agitated and hastened to calm him. “Aye, he is,” he agreed. “What happened was purely by chance. It should never have happened but it did. Daniel, I realize Maddoc is your friend, but I need your level head now. If we are going to save Adalind, I need your wisdom and confidence. Can you do this for me?”

  Daniel heard his father but his eyes were on the keep. He nodded, haphazardly. “Of course,” he said, distracted. “Where is Maddoc? I must go to him.”

  David could see he would get nothing more out of his son until he took Daniel to Maddoc. So with a weary nod of the head, he grasped Daniel by the arm and headed up the steps leading into Canterbury’s keep.

  It was cool and quiet in the big keep, the smaller hall straight ahead. Servants moved about in the darkened hall but, for the most part, it was empty. David led Daniel and Christopher up to the second floor where the bedchambers were located. There were four of them, all fairly large, and then three smaller chambers meant for servants.

  It was eerily quiet on this level, as if it were forbidden to speak in anything over a whisper. There was a feeling of sadness; they could all sense it, a fog of sorrow that enveloped everything it touched. The corridor was dim as they made their way, the heavy oak doors closed to prying eyes except at one chamber. That panel was half-cocked, weak light emitting from inside. David took them to that door and pushed it open wide.

  The first thing Daniel noticed was that the bed took up nearly the entire room. An oilcloth hung over the small window that allowed for light and ventilation into the room, and it smelled heavily of cloves and mint, pungent scents in their own right but nearly staggering when combined. A very old man sat against the wall as he fussed with some items on the table next to him, looking up when he heard movement in the doorway. Three enormous warriors stood there, all of them appearing somewhat hesitant.

  “My lord,” the little man greeted David directly, stiffly standing. “There is no change to report on the knight. His fever rages still. He rests.”

  All three of the men in the doorway looked at the bed where Maddoc lay. He was stripped from the waist up, his muscular chest
gleaming with sweat in the weak light and an enormous bandage wrapped around his midsection. Surprisingly, his eyes were open and when he saw Daniel, he tried to get up.

  “Daniel,” he said weakly. “You have come.”

  When they saw that Maddoc was trying to rise, they all hastened to the bed to hold the man down. Daniel was at his head, his big hands on Maddoc’s broad shoulders.

  “Easy, man, easy,” he said, filled with grief over the sight of his friend and struggling to keep a smile on his face. “Stay where you are. You look as if you have seen better days, my friend.”

  Maddoc’s blue eyes were unnaturally intense as he practically clung to Daniel. It was such a desperate hold, one not unnoticed by David or Christopher. Maddoc was hanging on to Daniel with a death grip.

  “He took Adalind,” he told Daniel, his voice terribly weak and unlike the Maddoc they all knew. “His name is Brighton de Royans. He is a vassal of Norfolk so he must have taken her to Arundel Castle. I know she is very frightened and she must fear that I am dead, but you must find her and tell her that I live and I will come for her when I can. Will you do this for me?”

  Daniel patted the big hands that held on to his arms, cold fingers digging into his flesh. He could see that Maddoc’s mind was hazed with fever, for the man wasn’t thinking clearly. It was obvious in the way he spoke, and his heart sank.

  “Of course,” he assured him strongly. “I will go today. But if I find her, wouldn’t you rather have me bring her back?”

  Maddoc blinked as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him. He began to nod. “Aye,” he agreed. “Please bring her back.”

  Daniel was having a difficult time with his composure. His mightiest and dearest friend was verging on delirium and death, and he could hardly stand the grief. So he nodded his head firmly, held Maddoc’s face in his hands, and kissed the man loudly on the forehead. He was struggling so very hard not to weep.

  “I will,” he said hoarsely. “I swear I will bring Addie back to you. You must not die until I can bring her back, do you hear me? You must stay alive. Do you promise?”

  Maddoc nodded weakly, his strength failing him as he sank back against the mattress. “I promise,” he muttered, evidently relieved that something was going to be done about Adalind’s abduction. “When you find Addie, please tell her that I am not dead. Please tell her… Danny, tell her that I love her. What I feel for her is timeless and unending. Will you do that for me?”

  Daniel lost the struggle against the tears. They began to well in his eyes. “Do you truly love her?”

  “I do. I regret deeply that I have not told her. I should have.”

  Daniel flicked a gloved finger at his eyes so the tears would not fall and make him look like an idiot. “Addie has been telling you that she loves you since she was five years of age,” he said. “Now you are finally loving her in return? Great Gods, you are a slow and dimwitted man.”

  Maddoc’s lips twitched with a smile. At least his humor wasn’t gone completely. “I know,” he whispered. “Please tell her.”

  “I will, but when I bring her back, you had better tell her yourself. She will want to hear it from you.”

  “I swear, I will.” Maddoc turned his head slightly and noticed Christopher and David standing at the foot of his bed. He hadn’t been aware of their presence until this moment, so focused he had been on Daniel. When he realized there were two earls standing next to his bed, he started to get up again. “My lords, I did not see you. I apologize I am unable to greet you properly.”

  Daniel pushed him down again as Christopher came around to stand next to his nephew. “You are forgiven,” he said to Maddoc, his sky-blue eyes twinkling although his heart was breaking at the sight. “Your father will be here soon, Maddoc. He will be very glad to see you.”

  Rhys looked surprised. “My father?” he repeated. “Why is he coming?”

  Christopher didn’t want to put the reason into words. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. “He is coming to help regain Adalind, of course.” He said the first thing that came to mind. “Daniel cannot go alone.”

  In Maddoc’s fever-ravaged mind, the reason made sense. “Is that why you are here?”

  “It is.”

  Maddoc extended a hand and Christopher captured it, holding it strongly. “Then I thank you,” he said faintly. “She means everything to me.”

  “We shall bring her back, Maddoc. Have no fear.”

  “I will not.”

  They could all see that he was growing exhausted from the conversation. David in particular was very concerned. He turned to the physic as Maddoc, completely worn out, closed his eyes.

  “What are you giving him for the fever?” he demanded.

  The physic wasn’t intimidated. He’d been in his profession far too long to show response to demanding lords. He faced David calmly.

  “Boiled bark from the white willow, my lord,” he said. “I have also placed a poultice of mustard and moss against the wound, which has been drawing the poison out of his chest. But, most importantly, I have been forcing him to drink a rotten brew that has proven its worth many times over in healing the sick. I have great hopes that it will cure him.”

  By this time, Christopher was listening to the old man. “Rotten brew?” he repeated. “What madness is this?”

  The old physic looked to Christopher. “I learned my trade on the sands of The Levant during Richard’s crusade,” he replied. “The savages had a brew they called ‘Rotten Beer’ that they made from bread that had gone bad. It is fermented until green hair covers it. Steeped in warm water, it is held warm for several days until it can reach full strength, and then it has a miraculous medicinal quality that cures anything. I have used it time and time again. I am using it on Sir Maddoc in the hopes it will ease the poison in his chest. If it does not work, I fear we will lose him.”

  David sighed heavily, looking over at Maddoc where Daniel was still sitting beside the man, holding his hand and stroking his head. Knight to knight, brother to brother. In the dim and pungent room, it made for a tragic scene. He felt sick and so very sad.

  “Very well,” he replied. “Do what you must. But keep him alive. He has much to live for.”

  The old man nodded and turned back to his table, which had an array of odd medicaments and vessels on it. As Christopher lingered at the old physic’s table to inspect the odd and miraculous things upon it, David went back over to Maddoc’s bedside. He put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

  “We should let him sleep now,” he said quietly. “Come with me. Your mother will want to see you.”

  Daniel nodded reluctantly, gave Maddoc’s hand one last squeeze, and stood up. Maddoc was already asleep so they quietly left the room, heading out into the dim corridor. Once in the hall, Daniel exploded.

  “Who is this de Royans?” he demanded, smacking an open palm with his fist. “Who is this bastard who has done this to Maddoc? Does he truly serve Norfolk? I am leaving right now to find him and when I do, I will draw and quarter him and take great pleasure in every scream of pain he utters.”

  David put a calming hand on his son. “We will go after him, I assure you,” he said. “That is why I sent for your uncle and for Maddoc’s father and other allies. Trust me when I say that de Royans and Norfolk will suffer. This offense against Maddoc and Adalind will not go unpunished.”

  Daniel looked at his father, his uncle, and then started to charge down the corridor. “I am leaving now,” he said resolutely. “I am going to find this whoreskin and destroy everything about him.”

  David grabbed his son, halting the man’s progression. “Surely you are not forgetting about Adalind,” he said. “De Royans has her. We must make sure she is safe before we punish him. We need your calm head, Daniel, not your rage.”

  Daniel’s jaw ticked. “You realize that if he abducted her, he has probably already married her,” he said, lowering his angry voice. “And if he has not married her, then he has, at the very least, compromised
her.”

  David closed his eyes to the words had been afraid to voice. “If he abducted her with the purpose of marriage, then I am sure he has not harmed her in any way,” Christopher said, seeing his brother’s grief. “Why harm the woman he wants to marry? It would make no sense. David, did you get the impression that he was a violent and reckless man other than challenging Maddoc?”

  David shook his head. “Nay,” he said honestly. “In truth, he was very polite and well spoken. I never received the impression that he was malevolent or mad. He simply wanted to marry Adalind and I denied him. He must have either been terribly insulted or unused to denial to go after Maddoc the way he did. He was determined.”

  Daniel had heard enough. “I am going to find him,” he rumbled threateningly. “I am going to find him and find Adalind, and I am going to make him pay for what he has done. I sincerely hope the man is right with God because when I am finished with him, he will wish he had never heard the name of de Lohr. In fact, I…”

  His rant was cut off by the sounds of heavy footfalls in the corridor. Daniel, David, and Christopher turned in the direction of the sounds to see the hulking figure of Rhys du Bois emerging from the darkened stairwell.

  They were all startled by the sudden appearance of Maddoc’s father. The man, so handsome in his youth with the black hair and brilliant blue eyes that Maddoc had inherited, looked old and gray and exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in a hundred years. There was grief and sorrow lining every inch of his face, so much so that the physical impact was unavoidable. They felt as if they had all been hit in the gut with it. Christopher broke away from David and Daniel.

  “Rhys,” he said, holding out a hand in greeting. “It has been a very long time, my friend.”