Gaetan pondered her statement. It was clear that she had some concern for Kristoph, which Gaetan thought was rather odd. There was no reason why she should have any concern for the enemy. It was true that she showed the man some mercy, evidently, by protecting him from those who sought to kill him, but beyond that… something about this didn’t sound right. There was something else that she wasn’t telling him.
As he considered that suspicion, the tent flap flew back and men began entering; de Russe, de Winter, de Lara, and de Moray followed by de Reyne, St. Hèver, du Reims, and Wellesbourne. Half-dressed, or sleepy-eyed from having been roused from their precious moments of sleep, big men were filling up the entry. They didn’t look pleased, either, glancing between Gaetan and the Saxon woman with a mixture of anxiety, frustration, and hostility.
The hostility was definitely palpable and Ghislaine instinctively stepped back, away from the seasoned warriors that were spilling into the tent. She also saw a squire or two, and maybe even a priest. Too many men were suddenly piling into the shelter and she backed away without looking where she was going, abruptly tripping over a bundle in the middle of the tent.
As she tried to pull her feet out of it, the fabric came away and she found herself looking at Harold’s corpse. He was tinged purple and green, his skin waxy like tallow. A scream left Ghislaine’s lips when she realized what she was looking at, struggling to pull the shroud away from her ankles. The more it wouldn’t come free, the more she panicked. Gasping, she finally freed herself, crawling over to the edge of the tent.
In spite of the fact that the tent was filled with fighting men, Ghislaine only had eyes for the pasty face of the dead king. Her sister’s husband. But she wouldn’t tell the Norman’s that, fearful that it might somehow seal the suggestion of taking her a hostage if they knew she was related to the man. That fear alone kept her silent.
In fact, she’d tried to push Harold’s death out of her mind because there was so much more of the situation demanding her attention. But the sight of his lifeless body brought tears to her eyes. Her sister had been rather fond of the man and she had accompanied him on his battle march from London. She was certain that her sister had already been informed that she was a widow and Ghislaine wished she could be of some comfort to the woman. But she had her own problems at the moment.
Poor Edith….
As Ghislaine stared at Harold’s remains, hand over her mouth in distress, Gaetan went to the body and tossed the fabric back over the face. He could see how startled and unbalanced she was but it was of no matter to him; war was war and if she was going to fight like a soldier, then she would know that death went along with such a vocation. He never imagined that her shock and grief was for another reason entirely. His gaze hovered on her for a moment before turning to the men standing behind him.
“This is Ghislaine of Mercia,” he told his knights in their language. “She is the sister of Edwin of Mercia, Morcar of Northumbria, and Alary of Mercia. She has come to tell us that Kristoph is now the prisoner of her brother, Alary, and that he is in a good deal of danger.”
Various expressions of surprise and concern spread across the faces of his exhausted knights. “Where is he?” Denis de Winter asked, to either Gaetan or Ghislaine. “Has ransom been demanded?”
Gaetan shook his head. “That is the strange part,” he said. “According to Lady Ghislaine, her brother seeks no ransom. He is using Kristoph for information and she fears that when Kristoph is no longer useful, Alary will kill him.”
“Where is he?” Luc de Lara asked, far more unpleasantly than Denis had. “We searched far and wide and did not find him. Where is he being held?”
Gaetan looked at Ghislaine, who was struggling to pull herself together. When she saw that their attention was on her, she labored to speak coherently.
“Part of the retreating army gathered to the east in a forest,” she said in their language, mostly looking at Gaetan because those angry, huffing knights intimidated her. “Your knight was there when last I saw him but Alary said he would be moving him north to Tenebris, which is where he lives out his life these days. Tenebris used to be a hunting lodge for the kings of Mercia but now… now it is a terrible, dark place with a dark reputation. Alary rules over it like his own little kingdom and Edwin simply looks the other way. Men go in to Tenebris but they do not come out again. You cannot permit your man to go there because, if he does, you will never see him again.”
The knights were trying to decipher her heavily-accented speech. “Tenebris?” Aramis repeated, looking at Gaetan. “I’ve not heard of it. Where is it?”
Gaetan shook his head. “I do not know.” He turned to Ghislaine. “Where is this place?”
Ghislaine found her feet, rising unsteadily on shaky legs. “To the north, somewhere west of Coventry,” she said. “There is a good deal of wild land between here and Tenebris. It is a perilous journey that will take many days.”
“I know where it is.”
Bartholomew Wellesbourne spoke and all eyes turned to him. He was a man of few words, big and blonde with eyes so dark that they were nearly black. He was the only one of the group that hadn’t been born in France. As a mercenary, he’d been hired by Gaetan years ago and had simply never left the man even though his loyalty to the man far outweighed any monetary compensation these days. His focus was on Ghislaine, however.
“A ydych yn deal Cymraeg?” he asked her. Do you speak Welsh?
Ghislaine nodded her head hesitantly. “Ychydig yn.” A little.
Bartholomew eyed her, somewhat suspiciously, before turning to Gaetan. “I was born in the village of Wellesbourne, as you know,” he said. “It is very close to Wales and I spent my youth there. I traveled with my father, who was also a mercenary, and I have seen much of the land she speaks of. There is a forest there called Far Forest that is rumored to be haunted. Mercia borders several Welsh kingdoms and she is correct; it is very wild. If he takes Kristoph there, we will quite possibly lose him forever.”
Gaetan didn’t like the sound of that. Now, all of the warnings of Kristoph being in danger were starting to sink in as he was coming to realize what, exactly, she had meant.
“Then we must go and get him now,” he said, turning to Ghislaine. “You say that he is being kept to the east of here?”
Ghislaine nodded. “Aye,” she replied. “But there are several hundred men camped there. If you intend to rescue him, then you must take many men with you. My men will not so easily give up their Norman prize.”
As the knights considered that option, Marc de Moray pushed through the group and went straight to the body of Harold in the center of the tent. Big, gruff, black-haired de Moray was a no-nonsense kind of man. He tossed back the fabric across the king’s face, exposing the slightly green features to the weak light.
“Will they give it up for this?” he asked, looking at Gaetan. “Normandy told you to toss the body in the sea but you did not. You have held on to it, mayhap for just such an event? Because if you have, I will ride in to that encampment this very moment with the body and demand Kristoph’s release in exchange for their king. If they do not accept the terms, then we will exchange the lady for Kristoph. Surely this Alary of Mercia will want his sister back.”
Ghislaine’s eyes widened. Now, she was to be a hostage? “He does not know I have come,” she said. “Alary has no love for me, as I have no love for him. You would be offering him nothing that was of value. It would be useless.”
Gaetan eyed de Moray for a moment, perhaps considering his offer to deliver Harold’s body, before looking to Ghislaine. “What were your plans after you told us of Kristoph, then?” he asked. “Did you think we would simply let you return to your Saxon brethren? You do realize that you have left yourself open to the enemy, do you not?”
Truth be told, Ghislaine hadn’t considered any of that. She looked at the big men in the tent, all of them blood-thirsty warriors who had come to her lands seeking glory. They were her enemy and they did not
trust her. It took her a moment to realize how very foolish she had been. Her thoughts of mercy, of vengeance against Alary, had her singularly focused. She hadn’t considered what she would do after telling the Norman’s of her brother’s plans for their comrade. Now, she was feeling cornered, frightened in more ways than she could comprehend.
“I came with peaceful intentions,” she said, having visions of all of these men swarming on her at once and being pulled limb from limb. Her gaze was fixed on Gaetan. “You showed me mercy once before. Do I wrongly assume you would show it to me again?”
Gaetan merely shrugged. “It is possible,” he said ambivalently. Then, he turned to de Moray and his men. “I had the same idea as Marc suggested – using Harold’s body to exchange for Kristoph’s freedom. Téo and I discussed it earlier with just that possibility in mind. We will send the lady back with a message – Kristoph for their king.”
Ghislaine was quickly growing agitated. “Alary cares not for Harold’s body,” she insisted. “He served the king only to gain his favor because he has two brothers who hold great lands while he himself has none. Now that the king is dead, believe me when I tell you that he has no use for the man. And sending me back to him with a message from you will only sign my death warrant. My brother will want to know how I became a messenger for Norman knights.”
Gaetan turned to her but, before he could speak, the big knight, de Moray, spoke again. “Then I will ride into the encampment and exchange myself for Kristoph,” he said. “I have no wife to mourn me. If the man wants a prisoner, then he will take me. Kristoph has a child and a wife who need him.”
Gaetan put a hand on de Moray’s shoulder. “Although I admire your sacrifice, I will not lose you, too,” he said. “We will regain Kristoph without anyone sacrificing himself. I need my anges intact. I will lose no man and I will leave no man behind. You know this.”
It was true that they did. That had been their mantra from years back; no man left behind, no man lost. It was part of the bond that kept them so strong. It was that faith in their unit as a whole that gave them the illusion of their own immortality. As the men pondered the next step in regaining Kristoph, a round, dirty figure pushed himself forward from behind the row of knights.
It was the priest. Jathan had heard de Reyne summoning the men to Gaetan’s tent and, even half-asleep as he had been, he scrambled up from his pallet and followed the tide of exhausted men into Gaetan’s quarters. Now, he’d heard the reason they’d been summoned and he sought to lend his aid. He, more than anyone, understood the loyalty that bonded these men together and he knew that de Moray would sacrifice himself without question.
“My lord,” he said to Gaetan. “Surely they would not harm a man of the church. I will go into the Saxon encampment and see to Kristoph myself. Mayhap, I can negotiate for his release.”
Gaetan turned to his priest, as did the rest of them. Jathan had been a knight before he’d been a priest and was therefore an excellent fighter, but he still had the look of a killer about him. He’d preach the good word in one breath and snap a neck in the next. Gaetan shook his head, sadly.
“You still look like a warrior no matter how much you pretend to be a priest,” he said. “Although I appreciate your offer, I fear they would not believe you were a man of the church.”
Jathan wouldn’t be deterred. “Then I shall go to the nearest abbey and solicit assistance from the priests,” he said. “They can go to the Saxon encampment and negotiate for Kristoph. If one of us cannot go, then the church must intervene.”
Again, Gaetan shook his head. “That would take time,” he said. “The Saxon army is not going to remain to the east forever, as the lady has mentioned. They will be moving out soon and I suspect the only thing we can do is go now ourselves and bring Kristoph back. Not with a great army as the lady suggested, but just the nine of us – this is either a job for a great many men or just a few. We can slip in and take him without raising an alarm.”
“Then let me at least offer myself as a prisoner,” Jathan insisted. “Surely they would not harm me. Mayhap they would even take me to where Kristoph is and, from that position, I can help him when you come to free him. You will need a man on the inside if he is as injured as the lady has said.”
De Wolfe didn’t look entirely convinced. “There may be truth in that,” he admitted. “But we would have to coordinate that carefully so as not to create a great alarm. We must be stealth, whatever we do.”
Still over by the edge of the tent, Ghislaine nodded eagerly. “They are in the forest where there is a good deal of cover for your movements,” she said, relieved that they were finally understanding the seriousness of the situation. “I will take you there and I will show you were I last saw your knight. Mayhap, they have not even missed me these few hours and will not have even known I have left, so I will be able to move about the encampment freely.”
As Gaetan considered her offer, de Moray spoke up again. “How do we know you weren’t sent here to take us all to our deaths using Kristoph as bait?” he asked, somewhat savagely. “I do not like that you are so eager to help us regain him.”
Ghislaine could see their point, in a sense. Therefore, she tried not to be too offended by it. “I swear by my mother that I have not been sent here to lure you to your deaths,” she said steadily. “I have given my reasons to your lord for coming; among them is the fact that my brother is a wicked man who holds your friend captive. When you rescue your friend, if my brother falls victim to your sword, I will not mourn him. I will thank you for doing me and the rest of Mercia a great service.”
Now, the situation had a bit of a twist on it that was unexpected – a Saxon woman seeking the assassination of her terrible brother, who just happened to hold a Norman knight captive. It was difficult not to believe her sincerity and even de Moray’s hostility had banked somewhat. He looked at Gaetan.
“Is this true?” he asked. “She has come seeking her brother’s murder?”
Gaetan’s gaze was on Ghislaine as she stood on the other side of the tent, looking at all of them with a mixture of fear and hope. He was a good judge of character because his life depended upon such things and he was coming to think that the lady was sincere. A bit foolish, perhaps, but sincere. She seemed a little too naïve about the ways of men to be anything else. Strangely, he was starting to feel the least bit of compassion towards her.
“There is something you should know,” he told his men. “Towards the end of yesterday’s battle, I captured what I thought was a Saxon archer. It turned out to be Lady Ghislaine. I spared her life and, in turn, when Kristoph was captured, she spared his. Of course, there is no way of knowing if she is being truthful until we regain Kristoph and speak with him, but given that we have no other alternative, I am willing to trust that she is a lady of her word. I am willing to trust that Kristoph’s situation is as she says it is and that we can depend on her for her assistance in regaining him. But at the first sign she is lying, I will not hesitate to slit her throat. Make no mistake.”
Deadly words from de Wolfe and Ghislaine had no doubt that he meant them. But she didn’t show her fear. She simply looked him in the eye, steadily, to emphasize the fact that she wasn’t lying about anything. They needed their knight returned. She needed vengeance against her brother.
There was an old saying… my enemy’s enemy is my friend.
Perhaps this would work out, after all.
“That will not be necessary,” she said. “I have been completely truthful.”
Gaetan’s eyes glittered at her in the weak light of the tent. “That remains to be seen,” he said. Then, he turned to the knights standing behind him. “Prepare yourselves. I intend to go to the Saxon encampment as quickly as possible, so dress accordingly. Travel lightly. We will need to slip in and slip out, and we cannot do that if you are heavily armored or burdened with many weapons. Take only what you will need.”
De Reyne, standing closest to him, frowned. “Why not wait until darkness?” h
e asked. “It will make it much easier to move about.”
Gaetan shook his head. “We cannot take the chance that they will move out this morning and take Kristoph with them,” he said. “Unfortunately, operating in the day will leave us exposed, but we will simply have to double our efforts of caution.”
The knights understood. The plan was set and they were more than ready to see it through, feeling anticipation in regaining their lost man. Surely it would be a simple thing against the beaten Anglo-Saxons who had taken Kristoph prisoner. They quit the tent, heading back to their own shelters to prepare for the coming incursion into the enemy encampment, but Téo lingered behind.
He waited until the men were gone before speaking to Gaetan. “Will you tell Normandy what you intend to do?” Téo asked. “And what of Harold’s body?”
Gaetan turned to look at the corpse, the face still exposed. He sighed heavily. “Normandy does not want it,” he said. “If Kristoph’s captor will not take it in exchange, then I suppose it is of no use to use. Seek out William Malet and see if he will assume the burden. Although he is close to Normandy, I do not believe he wishes to see the body thrown into the sea, either. He did not seem to approve of those orders when Normandy gave them to me. See if he will give the body back over to the king’s widow or even to his mother. I heard she had offered gold for it.”
“I heard that also. Do you think Normandy will turn it over to them?”
“That is difficult to know. But I no longer have any use for it.”
Téo understood; William Malet was a trustworthy man, one of the duke’s many Companions. He was as reasonable as any of them to handle the disposal of the body. As Téo headed out to find Malet, Gaetan was left with Ghislaine, once again, alone in the large cluttered tent, but that didn’t last long. Soon, there were squires entering the tent again to assist Gaetan in dressing for his coming mission and Ghislaine was all but forgotten.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 9