Chad….
He was ready and willing to fight for her. He had been ready and willing since the beginning, whisking her from Newington and making sure to keep her safe every moment. He’d fought off Henry’s knights for her. His father had lied to the Henry’s men for her. Everyone had done something for her to keep her safe, but the truth was that she needed to return the favor. So many people facing death and destruction while she remained safely locked away.
Perhaps it was time for her to stop being selfish.
With a heavy heart, Alessandria turned her face towards the small window, feeling the cold breeze on her skin, knowing what she needed to do for all of their sakes. If Henry was going to be in St. Mary’s Cathedral at dawn, then so would she. Chad had shown her St. Mary’s once, on that lovely stolen trip to Coventry those weeks ago, so she knew where to go. Perhaps her sacrifice would save them all. It would mean never becoming Lady de Lohr, and perhaps never seeing Chad again, but if it would save the man’s life, she was willing to do it.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of a marriage that would never be, of a love that would never know its full potential. It was foolish, really – as a ward of Newington, she never expected to find love or marriage.
It had been her desire to become a nun, to serve God, so the insertion of Chad in her life had been completely unexpected. Perhaps like a dream, it wasn’t meant to last. It was only meant to give her a taste of a world so beautiful that it was beyond belief. She had known love and she had known a man’s touch, his body melding into hers. They were intimate memories she would have to live on for the rest of her life, for now, she could no longer be selfish.
God, she loved him. She loved him so much that it hurt. But her desire to save him was stronger than her desire to stay with him.
Farewell, Chad….
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
St. Mary’s Cathedral
Coventry
“It is at least an hour or two before dawn,” Chad muttered. “Are you sure he will be here?’
A group of men were gathered inside of St. Mary’s Cathedral, back near the entry door. Bose and Curtis were standing together, listening to Chad stir around, seemingly restless, while Chris and William stood back in the shadows, watching. It was a tense and weary gathering, lingering in the dead of night.
“He shall be here,” Curtis said steadily. “Arthur went to fetch him and you know that your cousin is very persuasive. Henry will come.”
Chad was wringing his hands through his big leather gloves, pacing around on the packed earth floor. It was very dark and still at this hour, with only a few acolytes moving around near the front of the church to prepare for Matins. Chad could see the skinny, ill-dressed boys setting up for the priests.
“I wonder what happened with Gallus and his wife,” Chad turned about and continued pacing. “When we left, she was begging him to surrender. I wonder if she has convinced him to do it.”
Curtis shrugged as Bose spoke. “I have spent the better part of eight years trying to convince them to see reason,” he said. “Ty, for a time, did serve me under Henry but that ended long ago. Ty seems to be the one most pliable to the suggestion of swearing fealty to Henry but it is Gallus who rules that family. He is passionate in his beliefs.”
Chad looked at the big, dark knight. “What of Max?”
“He seems to be more inclined to side with Ty.”
Next to Bose, Curtis sighed faintly. “It may not matter in the end,” he said. “I received the distinct impression that Max and Ty were coming to see my point but Gallus was simply being stubborn. If the brothers turn against him, he may not have a choice.”
Chad kicked at the earth. “Gallus is very proud,” he said. “It will hurt him deeply if his brothers go against him.”
“It may force him to see reason,” Chris said, standing back in the shadows along with his brother, William. “We cannot all be wrong in our conviction that Gallus should at least pretend to swear fealty to Henry.”
Chad looked over his shoulder at his cousin. “I hope you are right.”
Chris simply nodded, glancing at big William, who was standing in the shadows with his muscular arms folded across his chest. When William caught his brother’s expression, he grunted unhappily.
“That so many honorable and reasonable men should swear fealty to a fool is beyond me,” he muttered. “If I had half of Gallus’ courage, I would stand with him.”
“Quiet,” Curtis hissed at his son. “You will not speak so foolishly. We must all do as we must to maintain our lands and money and legacy. Sometimes those duties are unsavory, but they are necessary.”
William simply rolled his eyes at his father’s assessment. Then, he watched Chad pace around, pulling and grinding at his hands. “What are you so nervous about?” he asked the man. “Could it be because your wedding did not happen as planned?”
Chad came to a halt, turning to see William grinning at him. Chris was grinning, too, but trying not to. “Who told you that?” Chad demanded.
Chris spoke. “Ty mentioned something about marrying Lady Alessandria,” he said. “Is it true? Have you finally fallen for a woman, Chadwick?”
No one called him Chadwick unless they wanted a black eye. He hated that name with a passion. Chad advanced on his cousin but Curtis threw out an arm, preventing him from throwing a punch as Chris and William giggled like children.
“No violence,” Curtis said, frowning at his snorting sons. “We are simply very happy for you, ’tis all. Ty made it sound as if you love the girl. Is this true?”
Chad’s initial reaction was to be embarrassed, to deny it, but he found that he couldn’t. It wasn’t as if the entire de Shera household didn’t already know it and they would surely tell the truth, so Chad did the only thing he could do. He admitted it.
“I am not sure how it happened, but it did,” he confirmed. “We were hoping to be wed last evening but your unexpected appearance postponed those plans. Now I am not sure when I will be able to wed her.”
Curtis grinned, patting Chad on the cheek. “Sooner than you think, I hope,” he said. “If we can convince Henry to leave Isenhall intact, then mayhap you can marry your lady later today. I will make sure of it.”
Chad reluctantly returned Curtis’ smile, pleased that the man was in full support of his actions. “My father does not know yet,” he said. “But he knows Aless and I am sure he will approve of her. Our marriage will be one more link to bind the houses of de Lohr and de Shera together.”
“I hope that is not the only reason you are marrying her.”
“Of course not. I am marrying her because I love her.”
Curtis’ smile faded. “Then this coming confrontation with Henry means a great deal to you,” he said. “It was Henry who wanted to take your intended as a hostage.”
Chad nodded. “Either a hostage or, according to Torran de Serreaux, to marry her off. Either way, I have a personal stake in all of this.”
Curtis understood but the conversation immediately was cut off when movement was heard near the entry to the cathedral. The arched Norman doorway was suddenly full of men with weapons, spilling into the darkness of the cathedral, spreading out. Chad and the other men knew instantly that Henry had made his arrival and he had come with several armed men as escort, as befitting the king.
Still, the armed incursion didn’t sit well with Curtis or with Bose for that matter; they were armed, of course, as were Chad and Chris and William, but it was only the five of them against at least twenty of Henry’s men. Struggling not to sound unhappy about it, Curtis moved towards the entry just as Henry and Arthur came forth.
“I see this is going to be an intimate little discussion, Your Grace,” Curtis said wryly. “Had I known you were bringing half of your army, I would have brought half of mine. The odds would have been somewhat even.”
Henry, dressed in mail and a pristine crimson tunic, headed straight for Curtis, a half-smile on his face. He liked the fact that he
had caught the man off-guard; that gave him the upper hand. He noticed Bose standing next the earl and his focus moved between the two men.
“Worcester,” he greeted Curtis. Then he looked at Bose. “I am glad to see you here, de Moray. I had hoped you would come.”
Bose stepped forward. “Your Grace,” he greeted formally. “I trust your travel has been pleasant.”
Henry nodded. “Pleasant enough,” he said. “I had great company in the de Winter brothers.”
Davyss and Hugh were somewhere behind Henry, coming forward when they heard their names mentioned. De Serreaux and the other Six were spread out around Henry as bodyguards. As Henry faced Curtis and Bose, Chad, standing far back behind the men, happened to notice Torran as the man stood somewhat in the shadows.
It was the man who had sent them the warning of Henry’s arrival but Chad still wondered whose side Torran was really on. He served Henry, after all, but his message to Chad had been contrary to that loyalty. At least, Chad thought so. When their eyes met, Chad didn’t acknowledge him, fearful that Henry might pick up on some kind of subliminal gratitude. For all Henry knew, they were still enemies after what had happened at Canterbury and Chad thought it should remain that way. But he did silently acknowledge Davyss and Hugh.
It was an odd standoff already and the tension in the cathedral was brittle. Men were facing each other across a divisive line, men who were supposed to be allies. Henry saw it, and felt it, and it displeased him greatly.
“Look at us,” he said. “We stand here as if we are on opposing sides. Since when did this happen, Curtis? Why do you not embrace me?”
Curtis did. Henry clapped him on the back and shoulders, trying to pretend as if they weren’t here for something terribly critical. “That is much better,” he said. “Now I feel as if we are family again. So, do tell me – why have you called me here? I would presume you wish to speak about those rebels.”
It was the first volley of words in what would hopefully not become a battle. Already, Henry was establishing his position but Curtis maintained his even manner. It would not do to become frustrated this early on.
“I have asked you here to discuss the de Shera brothers,” he said steadily. “I spent a good deal of last night speaking to them about their loyalties, Your Grace. You know that I do not want to see them harmed; they are good and true men. They are the Lords of Thunder, men to be admired and feared. I asked you to meet me here this morning because I want you to understand something – they did not support de Montfort out of a hatred of you. They supported de Montfort because they agreed with the man’s ideals. They, too, want a fair and just England for their children. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Henry wasn’t keen on accepting Curtis’ gentle explanation of the de Shera brothers. “Hmpf,” he grunted. “They have been a thorn in my side for nine years, Curtis. Nine years of their subversion and rebellion. Call it what you will, but that is what it boils down to – they are rebels and now their rebel leader is dead. I will have their fealty or I will wipe them from this earth.”
He was very plain about his position, without any kindness or tact leading up to his statement. He presented it clearly, for all to hear. There was no doubt he meant what he said and Curtis was careful in his reply.
“It is difficult to change a man’s ideals overnight, Your Grace,” he said. “Gallus and his brothers still believe in de Montfort’s principles. You cannot erase that with a wave of your hand. It will take time.”
Henry shook his head, now growing agitated. “Meanwhile, they openly rebel against me?” he demanded. “I will not have it, Curtis. You know I will not. They are powerful enough to pick up where Simon has left off and I cannot have that manner of threat against me. If you were in my position, would you tolerate it?”
Curtis was clear. “I would not,” he said firmly. “But I would also want to open a dialogue with them to understand what it is they want and what I can do to exist peacefully with them. They are strong men with good ideals, Your Grace. You need men like them. They have great hopes for the future of your country.”
Henry hissed. “It is my country,” he said. “They either serve me and my needs or they do not. There is no negotiation. Is that what you are trying to do? Negotiate for them?”
Curtis was coming to see that the king would not be swayed. He didn’t want to discuss a kinder, gentler rule and he was quite sure the de Shera brothers were rebels and nothing more. They were a threat, pure and simple, and that was how Henry would forever see them. They were so intertwined with Simon, and had been for years, that Henry couldn’t see them as anything else.
And that was a problem.
“I am not negotiating for them,” Curtis replied evenly. “I am simply telling you that men’s ideals do not change so swiftly. If you want these men to swear fealty, then you must give them something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps all they need is your assurance that you will listen to them in matters that affect them. Perhaps all they want is to know that you will consider their advice.”
Henry sighed heavily with frustration. He was glaring at Curtis but happened to catch sight of de Moray. He pointed at the man.
“You,” he said to Bose. “I sent you to relay my terms of their surrender. Did you do that?”
Bose stepped forward. “I did, Your Grace.”
“And?”
Bose glanced at Curtis before speaking; it wasn’t an easy answer he was about to deliver. “And they are men of strong ideals and convictions,” he said. “I believe that Lord Curtis’ suggestion is a good one – if you will only speak with them and give them assurances that you will listen to their advice and concerns, they may be willing to swear fealty.”
Henry’s jaw ticked. “You mean to tell me that you were unsuccessful in securing their surrender.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
Henry grunted with further displeasure. He turned away from Curtis and Bose, pacing the floor just as Chad had been doing minutes earlier. In fact, he caught sight of Chad, standing back with his cousins in the shadows, and jabbed a finger at him.
“Where is the de Shera heiress you took from Newington?” he demanded. “De Serreaux told me that you were able to remove her before he could get to her. Why did you do that?”
Chad was strong in the face of an angry king. He came forward, preparing to address his liege.
“Because it needed to be done, Your Grace,” he said.
“Who told you of my desire for the girl?”
“I heard rumor, Your Grace.”
“From whom?”
Chad would not reveal his source. “I cannot recall, Your Grace,” he replied. “I was half-drunk in a tavern in London when I heard the information. I do not recall who I heard it from.”
Henry scowled at him. “Do you think to lie to me?”
Chad shook his head. “Nay, my lord.”
“Was it de Moray who told you?”
“Was de Moray at that tavern? I do not recall, Your Grace.”
Henry was growing increasingly frustrated at Chad’s evasiveness. He jabbed a finger at him again. “Where is the girl?”
“Here, Your Grace.”
A soft, female voice came from the entryway and every man there turned to see a small, wrapped figure standing in the arched doorway. When she noticed the attention on her, she swiftly came forward into the light.
Chad, who had been stunned by the sound of the familiar voice, could hardly believe what he was seeing. What in God’s name is she doing here? He thought wildly. But when Alessandria began to move, he moved as well, bolting forward to intercept her before she could reach Henry.
“Aless!” he hissed, reeling with shock. “Why are you here?”
Alessandria gazed up into the face of the man she loved so well, feeling a lump form in her throat at the sight of him. It was a surprise. Thinking he’d been occupied elsewhere, she had congratulated herself on being able to flee Isenhall without r
unning into him. She’d stolen a horse from the stables and slipped from the gates, losing herself in the chaos of the de Lohr army outside of the walls before taking the road north into Coventry.
Alessandria had spent those few short miles to Coventry telling herself that this was the right thing to do, that turning herself over to Henry would solve all of their problems and that he would no longer be inclined to attack Isenhall. But seeing the armed men in the cathedral, and the unexpected appearance of Chad, had her shaken.
She was doing the right thing… wasn’t she?
“I did not know you would be here,” she whispered tightly.
Chad looked at her in confusion and disbelief, reaching out to grab her arms. “What do you mean?” he demanded softly, urgently. “Answer my question; what are you doing here?”
Alessandria put her hands to his face, touching the stubble. He was upset and her resolve to do the right thing was weakening the longer she looked at him.
“Please let me go,” she whispered. “You must let me go.”
Chad had no idea what she was talking about. “Let you go?” he repeated, aghast. “What does this mean? Why must I let you go?”
Gently but firmly, Alessandria managed to pull herself from his grasp, dodging him when he made another swipe for her. She rushed forward, towards the king and his men.
“My name is Alessandria de Shera,” she said. “I am the lady you wanted as a hostage. You sent your men for me at Newington Priory but Sir Chad took me instead.”
Henry was looking at the lady with great curiosity. “My lady,” he greeted. “This is unexpected, to say the least.”
Before he could say anything more, Chad came up behind Alessandria, quickly, and Henry was forced into action. Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the group of his men, and when Chad tried to push through, de Serreaux and d’Vant were there to stop him with their swords drawn. Steel flashed in the weak morning light and the message was clear.
Finally, they had their hostage.
Immediately, the mood of the meeting plummeted as the silver sword was unsheathed. More swords were coming forth, including Lespada in the hand of Davyss. That singing of steel against leather echoed against the walls and men began shuffling around as Chad tried to push forward to get to Alessandria, who cried out when she saw all of the weapons coming forth. She was immediately terrified.
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