Now they were on the subject of Kieran’s failing health and William exhaled sharply; he didn’t want to hear the defeatist tone in Kieran’s voice. “Mayhap you cannot make the journey, but you will be here when I return,” he said. “And if James is alive, I will not return without him.”
“When will you leave?”
“Immediately. As soon as I tell Jordan. I fear that my wife must be told of this.”
“Who will you take with you?”
William thought on his sons, men who were finer and stronger knights than he could ever hope to be. Each one, great in his own right.
“Scott is south, at his holding of Castle Canaan,” he said. “Troy is in Scotland, but he is not too far away should I need him. Patrick is at his garrison of Berwick Castle and Thomas is at his garrison of Wark Castle.”
“Thomas has not been there very long. How is he faring?”
William shrugged. “Well, from what Troy and Paris have told me,” he said. “I do not want to check on him for fear he will think that I do not trust him, so Troy and Paris have looked in on him. They say he is doing quite well, surprising from my youngest and sometimes grossly irresponsible son.”
Kieran smiled faintly; Thomas de Wolfe was the youngest son in a great family of knights and he had, indeed, been grossly irresponsible for much of his young life. But that had changed a few months ago when William finally gave him a command. For Thomas, it had been his moment to grow up, so the news was hopeful that he finally had. With the de Wolfe name, there was little choice.
“He’s had much to live up to, William,” Kieran said. “He just needed his moment to shine.”
“He will, I am sure.”
Kieran fell silent for a moment as he further pondered William’s coming journey. “When you go to Wales, take Scott with you,” he said. “Troy and Patrick have their hands full with Scots raids at the moment and should not leave their garrisons. Scott is the only one who could possibly spare the time, and you should not go alone to face this. Take Nathaniel, too. My youngest son knew James well, and I am sure that he would like to accompany you. Will you take him?”
William nodded faintly. “Nat is an excellent knight, like his father,” he said, “but I cannot take him with me. I will send him to Scotland to take over Troy’s garrison while Troy comes with me. Troy would never forgive me if I did not bring him with me.”
Kieran understood. The de Wolfe brothers were very close-knit. “And Patrick? If you take Troy, then you must take Patrick. He would be hurt if you did not.”
William knew that. “Alec is at Berwick,” he said, referring to Kieran’s eldest son. “He is perfectly capable of handling any situation while Patrick is gone.”
The situation was settled. “Very well,” he said. “Send Nat to Scotland and leave Alec at Berwick. But take a contingent of men with you when you go south. Eight hundred, I should think. You are heading into Wales, after all, and you do not want to go undermanned.”
William knew that. “I will,” he said. “Anything else, General?”
There was a twinkle in his eye when he said it. Kieran had been his second in command for a very long time, and he was the great organizer in such matters. William never had to worry with Kieran in charge of mustering the army.
But there was something more to that question, at least in Kieran’s view. He’d been watching his dear friend deny his health issues for several years, but never more strongly than he had as of late. Kieran was growing worse, but William refused to admit it. Now, with a months-long trip impending, they were reaching a crucial point in their relationship and, fearing that he might not be around when William returned, Kieran knew he had to speak what was on his mind and in his heart.
The time had finally come.
“Aye, there is,” he said. “I want you to listen to me without arguing. Will you at least do that?”
“I never argue with you.”
“You are doing it now.”
William chuckled. “Very well,” he said. “I will not speak another word. What else will you say?”
Kieran’s good mood faded. “What I am to say is very important,” he said. “There is a very good possibility that I will not be here when you return, William. The physic says my heart is growing worse by the day and there are times when I can hardly breathe. You know this. I know you do not want to acknowledge this, but you must. I have things that I need from you and I want to be assured that you will do them.”
William was looking at him with an expression of great sorrow. “Kieran…”
“William, please.”
William sighed heavily; he was cornered, and he knew it. “Very well. Continue.”
Kieran did. “I do not know what the future brings, so I must have my say,” he said, lowering his voice. “I have imagined this moment many times and thought of what I would say to you. What do you say to someone who has been closer to you than a brother? What do you say to someone who has meant everything to you, as much as you and I have meant to each other?”
William couldn’t help it; his eye began to fill with tears. “I do not know,” he said. “I have been asking myself the same thing.”
Kieran’s eyes began to grow moist and he reached out again, taking William’s hand and holding it tightly.
“I want to take a good look at you,” he said. “It will more than likely be my last look. And I want you to know that the day I met you was the best day of my life. I have watched you become the greatest knight England has ever seen, but your greatness as a knight cannot compare with your greatness as my friend. Nay, as my brother. You have always been my brother, William, and I want to thank you for everything. Life with you has been quite a journey.”
William’s tears were beginning to spill over, his head bent over his hands as he clutched Kieran’s fingers. “And I cannot imagine completing this journey without you,” he whispered. “I knew this time would come but I supposed I’d hoped we would die at the same time. I do not know what I am going to do without you, Kieran.”
Kieran put a big hand on his lowered head. “You will have Paris,” he said. “I realize that is a poor substitute for me, but he will have to suffice.”
William grinned through his tears. “A poor substitute, indeed,” he said. “He loves you almost as much as I do. He will miss you very much.”
Kieran smiled weakly. “He will not admit it,” he said. “But there is something more, William, something that is most important to me.”
“Name it and I shall make it so.”
“My wife. My passing will destroy her even though she pretends to be strong. You will make sure she is taken care of, please.”
“She is family. Of course I will take care of her; you need not ask.”
“And our grandchildren – you and I share several. In the years to come, make sure they remember me from time to time. Tell them… tell them how much I loved them.”
William’s tears flowed like rain. “I will, I swear it,” he said. “They will know how great their Kee was.”
“Kee,” Kieran chuckled softly. “I remember when Edward first called me that and it stuck. I hated it, but I could not shake it. Now, I love it. I want it to be the last thing I ever hear.”
William simply nodded, squeezing the man’s hand. “My tears are selfish tears, you know,” he said, wiping at his face with one hand. “I do not cry for you. You will go to sleep and when you awaken, you will find yourself young and strong again, and I envy that. I cry because I will be without you, and I will miss your quiet wisdom and your great strength. I do not know if I have ever told you that I love you, Kieran, but I do. I love you as deeply as a man has ever loved his brother and I swear to you that our grandchildren, and their children, will know of you. You will be well-remembered.”
Kieran’s dark eyes glimmered. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I am grateful.”
“Is there anything else?”
Kieran nodded. “Kevin,” he said. “I’ve not seen my son in quite so
me time, ever since he left for The Levant.”
William knew that. Kevin Hage, Kieran’s beloved son, had left England for The Holy Land because the woman he loved, William’s youngest daughter, Penelope, had married another man and Kevin had been unable to cope with the loss. He’d left for The Holy Land with Kieran’s blessing, but William knew how hard it had been for Kieran to let his son go.
“I know,” he said after a moment. “What would you have me tell him when I see him?”
For the first time, Kieran seemed to grow quite upset. “I never imagined that I would not speak with my son ever again in this life,” he said, fighting off tears. “Kevin is special to me. I love all of my sons very much, but Kevin… I understand him. He has a tender heart, something he tries so hard to protect, but he is simply incapable of hardening. I suppose that is what I love so much about him. William, when you see him again, will you tell him… tell him how much I loved him and how proud I was of him. No matter what, I was proud of him. I want you to tell him that my last thoughts were of him. Will you do this?”
William nodded. “I will.”
“Thank you.”
There wasn’t much more to say after that. They’d said everything they needed to. Kieran finally let go of William’s hands and opened up his arms, embracing William as they both found an outlet for their quiet tears. It was an embrace of everlasting friendship and of the bonds of brotherhood that could never be broken. When William finally released him, he kissed him on the forehead and stood up.
“You must know I have been dreading this moment,” he said. “I suppose that is why I have been avoiding this. I did not believe I could face it. But now… now I feel as if I have said what I needed to say. I am content, but I will say again how much I will miss you. I do not want to let you go.”
Kieran smiled weakly. “I know,” he said. “But I am tired, William. I am tired of being ill, of not being able to function as a normal man. I spend my days in this bed, remembering when I was young and strong and healthy. I do not like my family seeing me this way. It is no way for a knight’s life to end. I had always imagined that I would die a glorious death in battle, but it seems as if I am to die an old man in my bed.”
William was struggling not to weep again. Kieran had never spoken of his personal feelings on his health woes, so to know how much they affected him was difficult to hear. The powerful knight was no longer powerful; he was trapped by a dying body and deeply saddened for it.
“Is that so bad, dying in your bed?” he asked. “You have lived a full and wonderful life, Kieran. I do not mind the notion of dying in bed, with my wife by my side. I always thought the only glorious death would be the one in battle, but I have since changed my mind. A peaceful death, surrounded by my family, is more glorious to me. Mayhap it is the mark of a truly loved man.”
Kieran’s gaze moved to the windows that faced northwest. There was blue sky beyond in a warm autumn day. Memories of the years flashed in his mind, of him when he was young, and of William when he was young. They had, indeed, been glorious days, but what William said resonated with him – he was more content now than he’d ever been. And he had been fortunate enough to have loved deeply. After a moment, he tossed back the coverlet and put his feet on the ground.
As William watched, Kieran stood up, slowly and laboriously, and began to walk towards him. It wasn’t the usual proud gait that William remembered, but more of a shuffling gait from a man who shouldn’t even be out of bed. But William stood his ground as Kieran approached, looking the man in the eye when he came close. Kieran smiled faintly.
“I did not want your last memory of me to be as I lie in my bed,” he said, taking a deep breath to steady himself since his heart and lungs didn’t work well these days. “Remember me as I was, William. Remember me as the powerful knight who was honored to serve with you.”
William lost the battle against the tears once more. They streamed down his face. “I will,” he said. “It has been an honor to serve with you, also, Kieran Hage.”
Kieran nodded, feeling rather proud that he’d been able to face his friend on his feet one last time. “Now,” he said huskily. “Go to Wales and find your son. I will try to be here when you return, but if I am not, then this parting was well-made.”
William was trying to be brave about this, but he couldn’t seem to be. He couldn’t speak for the lump in his throat. Lifting his hand, he touched Kieran on the cheek.
“You will always be young and strong to me,” he whispered. “Godspeed, Kieran Hage. I will look forward to when next we meet again, in this life or in the next.”
With that, he turned and left the chamber, feeling more sorrow and anguish than he could imagine. It was true that all of the denial he’d had about Kieran’s health had hit him hard but, in the same breath, there was a satisfaction to the conversation. They’d said everything that needed to be said, and William could go forward now with his friend’s wise counsel. But, God, he missed him already.
Farewell, Kieran…
PART FIVE
DRAGON TAMER
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Wales
The arrow wasn’t sticking out of her shoulder any longer, but Blayth knew that she must have been in a good deal of pain.
They were riding northeast beneath a dark pewter sky and a great silver moon that was beginning to set. Soon enough, it would disappear in the west and then the land would be as dark as pitch. Blayth knew they would have to find shelter before that happened, a place to tend Asmara’s wound.
He’d tried to do it as soon as they’d left Gwendraith, but Asmara was a strong woman. She’d ripped the arrow out of her shoulder and kept her hand against the wound, pressing it with the material from her tunic to stop the bleeding. She wouldn’t even let him stop so that he could get a look at the wound. She was concerned that men from Gwendraith might try to pursue them and she didn’t want them to catch up, so it was best to put as much distance between them and Gwendraith as possible.
Arrow wound be damned.
Therefore, they raced off into the night. Asmara’s young stallion was very fast, taking the lead as Blayth’s horse tried to keep up. To the south, they could see the rise of ghostly hills and to the north, it was mostly flat lands and forests. All of it was bathed in moonlight, which made the road easy to see. They were able to dodge things that, had it been a darker night, they would have tripped over.
Blayth mostly tried to stay on Asmara’s tail as she rode the horse at breakneck speed. She was only holding on with one hand as it was, the other one pressed tightly to her left shoulder, and he was genuinely fearful that she was going to fall off at some point, but his Dragon Princess remained strong. She held tight as they headed north, passing through smaller towns, and then letting the horses have their head on the long and barren stretches.
On they went, into the night.
Blayth wasn’t entirely sure how long they’d been running, but by the position of the moon, he guessed that it had been at least a couple of hours. The moon was so low now that it was beginning to dip below the horizon and he knew that they had to find shelter fairly quickly. On the road ahead, they could see a small village and they could smell the smoke from the dying fires. He managed to get his horse up next to Asmara’s and grab hold of her reins.
“We must stop,” he yelled over the rush of the wind. “Look; the moon is setting. We must stop for the night.”
Asmara looked pale and frightened. She was in panic mode, fleeing Gwendraith, fearful for her very life. They both knew what Morys was capable of and even though she’d hit the man with an arrow, she hadn’t really noticed where she’d hit him other than it had been up around his shoulders. After that, everything was a blur. As Blayth slowed the horses as they neared the edge of town, Asmara was very much starting to feel the pain of her wound. Now that the rush of fear had settled, the agony of a pierced shoulder was coming to the forefront. She groaned, leaning forward in the saddle as Blayth looked at her with concern
.
The town was very small and Blayth was somewhat familiar with it since Brecfa, Morys’ stronghold was several miles to the west. He knew that there wasn’t a tavern to be found, but there was a church at the other end of the town, one that had been there since the Normans first came to Wales.
He led Asmara’s horse through the streets at a clipped pace as she increasingly gave in to the pain in her shoulder. Up ahead, illuminated by the setting moon, they could see the tower of the church, which was situated on a small hill. The tower itself was at least four stories, soaring above the countryside, while the church attached to it was long and rectangular, built from local stone and rubble.
As they drew closer, Blayth could see the churchyard with the stones atop the graves, a superstition to keep the dead from rising. There was a small structure to the rear of the church, housing of some sort, and Blayth took the horses into the churchyard and headed for the small house. Once they reached it, he slid from his horse and pounded on the door.
He had to pound on it at least four more times until he heard someone on the other side of the door. By this time, the moon was nearly down and the gnarled oak trees were casting great shadows, nearly blacking everything out. There was a small window in the heavily-fortified door that slid open.
“What’s wanting?” came a voice.
Blayth could hardly see anything as he peered at the small hole. “My lady has been injured,” he said. “We seek your help.”
There was no immediate reply and Blayth couldn’t tell if the person was looking at him or not. He leaned closer to the door, trying to see in the small window.
“Please help us,” he said. “My lady has a wound that needs tending. We… we have been attacked. Won’t you please help?”
More dead silence. As Blayth pondered what more to say, as he was trying not to frighten the person on the other side of the door, Asmara slid off her horse and marched up to the door.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 268