All they could do now was wait.
Ghislaine knew they were being watched as she and the priest headed into the Anglo-Saxon encampment and it was difficult to choose just who she was more afraid of at the moment – her brother or the Norman knight pointing an arrow at her back. None of this venture had gone as she had hoped but the problem was that she couldn’t stop the forward momentum now. She couldn’t simply walk away; she was becoming more and more entrenched in a situation of her own making and struggling not to lose control of it.
She was in it until the end.
As she and Jathan came to the edge of the encampment, several exhausted men around a weakly-smoking fire caught sight of her and began gravitating in her direction. Seeing that she was now noticed, she took action. She grabbed Jathan by the back of his tunic and shoved the tip of the dagger into his back.
“I am sorry if I hurt you,” she whispered to him. “But I must make this convincing.”
Jathan could see the enemy soldiers heading in their direction and he kept his eyes on them. “Understandable, my lady,” he murmured. “Good luck to us both.”
With that, the conversation died but Ghislaine’s apprehension was full-blown. The blade pressed into Jathan’s back was trembling so that she suddenly kicked his knees out and forced him on to the ground so her men would notice the prisoner and not her quivering hands. Besides… she didn’t want her shaking hands to jiggle that sharp blade right into the priest’s back.
“Look what I have found!” she said triumphantly. “Another Norman dog!”
Men were gathering around her, peering at the man on his belly, his face pressed into the cold, wet grass because Ghislaine had her foot on his head. She was beaming from ear to ear, as if genuinely happy with her captive, but it was all for show – she wanted her men to see how hateful she was towards the Normans and how gleeful she was in the capture of one. She had to be convincing.
And it worked.
Men began to congratulate her, peering down at Jathan only to spit on the man when they looked their fill of him. They had a Norman in their midst now and it seemed to rejuvenate whatever defeat had settled in their hearts and minds. A few of them even kicked Jathan as they circled him, like vultures going in for the kill.
“Another Norman bastard!”
“Kill him! Harold demands it!”
“Wait!” Ghislaine threw up a hand to stop the mob mentality before it truly started. “I will not kill him. I would put him with the other Norman prisoner, the one my brother took from me. Where is he?”
A man with dark dirty hair went to stand with her. He was one of her own soldiers, sworn to her, as were most of the men standing around her. In an age where men controlled the army and the country, it was extremely rare for a woman to command men but Ghislaine did. These men were gifted to her by her brother, Edwin, because he wanted her protected in battle. He knew he couldn’t keep her out of a fight so he had gifted her with about a hundred men and the means to support them.
Ghislaine’s men were extremely loyal to her, as evidenced by the fact that they’d remained in the encampment even when she’d turned up missing. A few had even gone out to look for her, but most of them were certain that Lady Ghislaine would return. She tended to be a loner at times, and a wanderer, but they knew she would not leave them. Even if she was a woman, she understood the heart of the warrior and the mentality. She would never leave her men if she could help it.
They had been correct.
Therefore, the man with the dirty hair was glad to see her and not surprised she’d brought back a prisoner. Lady Ghislaine was brave that way.
“Alary took his men and left just after dawn, my lady,” he told her. “That was a few hours ago.”
Ghislaine’s smile of triumph turned into something of a grimace and it was a struggle not to openly react to the news. “He left?” she asked, unable to keep the astonishment from her tone. “He… he is gone?”
“Aye.”
“And he took his army?”
“Those who could move, aye. At least two hundred men, mayhap a little less.”
“But… but what of my Norman prisoner? Did he take my knight, too?”
All of the men were nodding to varying degrees. “He was searching for you before he left, my lady,” another man said. “He would not wait for you to return.”
So Alary knew I was missing, Ghislaine thought. “So he took my prisoner and ran off?” she asked. “Did he not know I would return?”
The man with the dark hair shrugged hesitantly. “He did not say, my lady,” he said. “He looked for you. But when he could not find you, he took his men and his prisoner, and he left.”
It was unhappy news, indeed. It wasn’t as if Ghislaine could have stopped Alary had she been here, but to run off while she was away seemed underhanded somehow. Still, she was astute enough to realize that there was an unspoken question hanging in the air between her and her men at the moment – the fact that she had gone missing for quite some time. Yet, she was not troubled by it. The answer was on the ground at her feet.
“My brother is a fool,” she said, her disgust real. “Had he only waited, I would have had another Norman captive. Did he think I had run off? He knows me better than that.” She started to look around, realizing that there weren’t as many men around as there had been the night before. In fact, the area seemed rather empty and her disgust turned to puzzlement. “Where did everyone go? Has everyone fled for home?”
The men were looking around because she was. “Most,” the man with the dirty hair said. “Lord Leofwine’s men departed before the sun rose to return home to his wife in Kent. And everyone else… there is no reason to remain, my lady. It is best to return home and brace for what is to come.”
Ghislaine looked at the man. He was young and she could hear the fear in his voice. He’d suffered through the worst of the battle, just as they all had. It made the situation a bit more heady for her, a bit more sad. Beyond her scheming to have the Normans kill Alary lay the very real defeat of the Anglo-Saxon army and the destruction of her people.
And there was nothing any of them could do to stop it.
“It is the Normans that will come,” she said, feeling somewhat hollow and depressed even as she said it. “The Normans are already here.”
“Aye, my lady.”
“And my brother… he had fled them.”
“Aye, my lady.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “I would assume that Alary is returning to Tenebris?”
The man shook his head. “He did not say.”
Ghislaine sighed faintly, her thoughts moving from the defeated army to her brother’s departure. It was what she had feared but honestly hadn’t believed would happen, at least not until tomorrow. She had believed they had time before he left the encampment but she’d been wrong.
“Alary had many wounded,” she said, looking back over to the east, through a debris field of cold fires and the remnants of makeshift camps. “You said he took those who could move with him? What about his wounded?”
The man pointed off to the east. “He left them,” he said grimly. “They are over beyond that row of trees. Brothers from the small priory at Winchelsea have come to take them back to the priory for tending.”
So much hopelessness in the dead, the wounded, and the departed. Looking out over the makeshift encampment was like looking at a graveyard. Ghislaine couldn’t help but feel more grief. This was what was left of her people, her country. It would never be the same again. But her focus soon moved to the men who were standing around her, men that were loyal to her, men waiting for her orders. While others had fled, they had remained. She knew they were waiting for direction from her and she took a deep breath, summoning the bravery that she was known for. She couldn’t let her men down.
“Wytig, have the men pack what possessions they have,” she said. “We will go back to Tamworth Castle. Edwin will want to know what has happened and he will want to hear it from us
.”
Wytig, the young man with the dirty hair, nodded. “Aye, my lady,” he said. Other men had heard the order and they were already starting to move, to collect what little they had in preparation for going home, but Wytig was looking at the prisoner beneath Ghislaine’s foot. “What of him? Do we take him?”
Ghislaine looked down at the priest. It reminded her that she needed to return to de Wolfe and tell him what had happened. Taking her foot off of the priest’s head, she yanked the man to his feet.
“Nay,” she said. “I will do what needs to be done with him. Gather the men and, once they are ready, go. I will catch up to you.”
Wytig nodded and turned to the dirty, beaten Anglo-Saxons, encouraging them to gather their possessions. As the men prepared to depart, Ghislaine put her knife in Jathan’s back and turned him back in the direction they had come.
“Go,” she barked.
Her men heard her, watching as she marched the prisoner back towards the trees in the distance. They all assumed that their lady was going to execute the prisoner but no one wanted to interfere. Ghislaine of Mercia could be rather unpredictable and deadly, especially when questioned, so they returned to their task and continued gathering their possessions for the march home. It was time to leave this place of defeat and destruction, and there wasn’t one man who wasn’t eager to do so.
But she wasn’t going to execute the prisoner. She was going to tell de Wolfe that Kristoph had already been taken away. Alary’s departure had been unexpected but he was only a few hours ahead of them, at most. Moreover, most of his men were on foot so it would be slow travel for the most part, time enough for Normans on horseback to catch him. Even if Alary had two hundred men, nine Norman knights on horseback could do a good deal of damage, especially if they first removed Alary with the same arrow de Wolfe had threatened her with should she betray them. Once Alary was dead, his men would be leaderless and it would make it very easy to take back their comrade and depart.
At least, that was her theory, one that Ghislaine wouldn’t hesitate to put to de Wolfe when she told him that her brother had left and had taken de Lohr with him. Alary of Mercia would be no match for angry Norman knights who wanted their friend back.
Would Ghislaine feel any remorse that she had instigated her brother’s demise? About as much remorse as he would feel if the situation was reversed. But one thing was certain; Alary had to die soon or the Norman knight’s life would be forfeit.
So would hers if Alary realized what she had done.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Go Forth and Conquer
“He has taken Kristoph and headed north,” Gaetan said. “My lord, you know that I cannot let him go. I must retrieve him.”
It was nearing noon on the day after the battle north of Hastings that saw Harold Godwinson killed. Unlike the previous day, which had been wrought with inclement weather as the battle was fought, this day was clearing up and the sun was shining, warming that land. But that also meant the bodies of the dead were heating up. The stench at midday was nearly unbearable as scores of Normans hurried to clear up their dead while, to the north, Saxon dead continued to lay spread out over the ground. Rumor had it that Beddingham Priory had sent most of their priests and servants over to clear the Saxon dead, but from the Norman encampment, there seemed to be very little movement.
Yet, it was of no consequence, at least to Gaetan. He stood in the spacious tent of the Duke of Normandy, alone because he’d asked for privacy, and was even now addressing the man. After explaining what had happened to Kristoph and the subsequent attempt to rescue him, Gaetan was now further explaining to the duke that he and his men intended to follow Alary of Mercia to regain their lost man. Unfortunately for Gaetan, or the duke, or both, the duke didn’t seem to be apt to readily agree.
A potential problem was looming.
“Alary of Mercia,” William of Normandy rolled the name over his tongue thoughtfully. “I know of him. I’ve not had direct dealing with him, of course, but I know of him. His reputation is rather unsavory.”
Gaetan nodded. “According to the man’s sister, unsavory is a kind way of putting it, my lord,” he said. “Surely you can understand my need to remove Kristoph from his custody as soon as possible.”
“And this sister has been the only one to bring you news of Kristoph’s disappearance?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Is she telling the truth?”
Gaetan sighed heavily. “I have wondered the very same thing. But in the absence of any other eyewitness to Kristoph’s disappearance, I have no choice but to trust her,” he said. “However, when Jathan accompanied her to the Saxon encampment, he heard her men speak of the Norman knight that Alary held prisoner. That seems to prove that she was telling the truth.”
William lifted his eyebrows in reluctant agreement. A large, muscular man with bushy auburn hair and dark eyes, he was a larger-than-life commander with a temperament to match. He was an exacting master and a skilled one, and he lavished praise and rewards upon his favorites. But he was also very selfish. He wanted his subordinates’ attention on him and his needs.
To hear that his great Warwolfe was focused on retrieving a lost man had him somewhat unhappy at the moment. He understood very well that the Anges de Guerre were a close-knit group and the loss of one of them was disturbing for all, but he was very reluctant to allow Gaetan to leave him now when he needed him the most.
There was the conquest of a country at stake.
“Then it would seem she has been truthful thus far,” he replied belatedly. “But there is no guarantee that she is not leading you into a trap, Gate.”
“That is very true, but Kristoph is clearly with her brother. We have no choice but to follow him.”
“But why risk all of your men? I do not believe you are thinking clearly.”
Gaetan knew that William was reluctant to let him go and he knew why; the duke was inherently selfish. He didn’t like that Gaetan wanted to do something other than contribute to the glory of the conquest. Warwolfe, as far as William was concerned, belonged to him and so did his wants and ambitions. Anything that went against what William wanted was met with resistance. Therefore, Gaetan was very careful in his reply.
“I am thinking clearly enough, my lord,” he said steadily. “The longer we discuss it, the further away Alary of Mercia travels and the longer it will take me to retrieve Kristoph. You must look at it this way – when I catch up to Alary, he will be the first man to fall under my sword. For abducting Kristoph, make no mistake – I will kill the man. With this brother gone, Edwin and Morcar and the others will be, mayhap, more willing to negotiate with you or even support you rather than resist because they realize their lives will be at stake. Alary’s death will send a definitive message to those nobles who choose to resist. So, in a sense, I will be sending a message of Norman dominance to the entire country.”
It was a manipulative statement but the duke seemed to agree, reluctant as that agreement was. “That is true,” he admitted. “Sending my Anges de Guerre to blaze the trail before me will, indeed, send a message.”
“Aye, it will, my lord.”
“But I do not want all of you to go.”
Gaetan cocked an eyebrow. His patience was growing thin. “You know that we travel as a unit,” he said. “We work as a unit. If I must choose to leave some behind, you will have extremely unhappy men on your hands. Besides… you have plenty of knights and more than enough support for a further incursion into the country. You do not need me and my men at the moment. We must bring back one of our own, my lord. Surely you understand that.”
William eyed him a moment before going to the pewter pitcher of wine and pouring two cups. He brought one over to Gaetan, all the while pondering the situation and what needed to be done. Truth be told, he knew he couldn’t deny Gaetan’s wish to save Kristoph de Lohr from Alary of Mercia’s clutches. Gaetan and Kristoph were like brothers and to deny Gaetan would only incite rage in the man. He didn
’t need his Warwolfe directing hatred against him. Therefore, he had to be clever about this so they could both get what they wanted out of the situation. He had to make this work for them both.
“You know I do not want you to leave me, not now,” he said, grasping at the last vestiges of resistance. “I have great need of you, Gate. But I understand that you must rescue Kristoph. I understand that all too well, for Kristoph is a great knight and a loyal friend. I have tremendous respect for him. What if I wish for you to leave du Reims and de Russe here?”
“They will want to go.”
“But I have great need of them. If I cannot have you, then at least leave them with me.”
“I must respectfully refuse, my lord.”
William frowned. “Then let us say I deny your request to go at all. What would you do then?”
Gaetan took a drink of the sweet red wine. “If you were in my position, what would you do, my lord?”
William’s frown turned into a sly grin, knowing that Gaetan had him cornered. “I would disobey.”
“So would I.”
William laughed softly. “That would not do for either of us,” he said. “I am far too fond of you to punish you if that were to happen, so I suppose that it is best that I do not deny you. Are you sure I cannot change your mind?”
“Alas, my lord, you cannot.”
“Then I will, therefore, give you permission to go, but you will do something for me when you do.”
“Anything, my lord.”
William’s dark eyes glittered. The man was a grand opportunist. Since he couldn’t hold Gaetan back, he knew he had to make the best of it. If Gaetan wanted something from him, then he wanted something from Gaetan.
“Take a quarter of my army with you and subdue Mercia and the Midlands when you go,” he said. “After you find Kristoph, you will begin the conquest of the heart of England. I intend to remain to the south to claim what I can before moving on London, but you… you will go into the heart of England and you will subdue it. With my army claiming the south, including Winchester where the royal treasury is situated, and you in the heart of England to bring it under Norman control, we can bring the Saxons to their knees. Think on it, Gate – we shall have this entire country subdued within the year.”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 11