Bric started to laugh as Kevin grinned, looking at Achilles. “Did you beat her soundly for doing that?”
Achilles looked rather uncomfortable. “Hell, I did not want to hurt the woman. The Marshal would have throttled me for that.”
Bric continued to laugh at the memory. “I cannot tell you the times I had to put myself in between the pair to stop their aggressions,” he said. “But the fight at the tavern in Heckington was truly something to behold. There was a good deal of biting and screaming going on, mostly from Achilles.”
Achilles frowned. “It was not me,” he said. “Sparks was making all of the noise.”
That statement brought a good deal of interest from Kevin. “Sparks? Who is Sparks?”
Achilles cleared his throat awkwardly, eyeing Alexander and Bric, who kept their mouths shut. This wasn’t a question they were going to answer, but they both had varied degrees of mirth in their expressions. They were very curious to see if Achilles was going to make an admission.
“That is what I call Susanna,” he finally, embarrassed. “She said something to me once, something rather insightful. She was speaking of Kress and Cadelyn and said that people sometimes find a person who makes them spark. I started calling her Sparks, at first to taunt her, but then…”
Kevin wasn’t stupid. He could read Achilles’ body language like a book. “And this lady knight makes you spark, does she?”
Achilles’ head came up, looking into the faces of his three friends. He was afraid he was in for a world of teasing, but he didn’t see that in their expressions. He only saw warmth and humor in a situation that, truthfully, had a good deal of it.
There was no use in denying what they already knew.
“I suppose I cannot deny it,” he muttered. “I do not know how it happened, only that it did. One moment I was fighting with her and in the next… other things were happening.”
Bric leaned towards the table as if prepared to hear a juicy secret. “What other things?”
Achilles sighed heavily. “Things, MacRohan. Enough so that I plan to return to Aysgarth and marry her. I am certain you figured that out when I asked de Lohr on our return from Chester if he would beg permission from The Marshal for me to return to Aysgarth.”
Bric’s blond eyebrows lifted in utter astonishment. “I knew you wanted to return, but is it as bad as all that?”
“Worse. I fell for the woman, pure and simple. I never knew I had a heart until she took it.”
Bric looked to Alexander in astonishment, as if the man could confirm what Achilles was telling him. Alexander nodded firmly as Kevin lifted up his cup.
“That is a rare thing, Achilles,” Kevin said, his eyes glimmering. “I admire you for being brave enough to admit it.”
It was a toast to courage, perhaps even to love, and Achilles fought off a grin as Alexander and Bric raised their cups as well. They were drinking deeply when movement passed by the window, catching their attentions. As they turned to the door, it was shoved open and Christopher de Lohr stepped through.
The Earl of Hereford and Worcester had arrived.
An enormous man with a crown of golden-blond hair and a trim, blond beard, Christopher was England. The former champion for Richard the Lionheart and a man known during Richard’s reign as Defender of the Realm, Christopher was the head of one of the most powerful dynasties in England. If William Marshal was England’s greatest knight, then Christopher de Lohr was England’s greatest champion.
But the champion did not look pleased at the moment. As he came through the door, his gaze immediately fell on the table of the four knights near the window.
“Come,” he boomed. “He is waiting for you.”
There was no time to delay. Achilles was on his feet, grabbing his saddlebags and weapon as the others did the same. They were moving swiftly for the door, following the massive, blond earl out into the moonlit night.
Their time had finally come.
CHAPTER SIX
Farringdon House, the townhome of William Marshal, was a structure that was part of The Marshal’s world of power as much as a sword or an army.
It was a legendary place of strength and duty unto itself.
Entering through an arched and secured gate built into the house itself and protected by several guards, Achilles followed de Lohr through a tunnel that led into a damp, enclosed courtyard. To their right were stalls for the horses and a small corral, but stretching above them were four stories of an enormous stone house.
Windows faced into the interior courtyard and he could hear voices coming from the open panels – servants moving about, even at this late hour. To their left was another arched doorway, heavily-fortified, and there was another guard standing at it. The five of them entered the ground floor of the house through that arch, which included servants’ quarters, a big armory, and the kitchens. It was dark and cramped. A walkway through the ground floor led to a large mural staircase, and the group took the stairs to the first floor above.
This floor was more spacious, with high ceilings and big windows. It was also the floor with the enormous solar, The Marshal’s seat of power. At this hour, it was brightly lit, with a fire in the hearth and banks of fat, yellow tapers. As soon as the knights entered, they heard a familiar voice.
“Damnation, Achilles, is this true?” William Marshal was standing by the hearth, warming his old bones. “Is what de Lohr told me the truth?”
Achilles looked at Christopher, who simply motioned towards William. Tell him. Achilles got the message loud and clear.
“If he told you that I wish to return to Aysgarth Castle, to Susanna, then it is true, my lord,” he said respectfully.
William came away from the hearth, his gaze riveted to Achilles. As he came closer, they could see that his jaw was ticking beneath his stubbled cheeks. William was tall, still powerful, with a haggard face and eyes yellowed with age.
And it was clear that he was displeased. In spite of the fact that his meeting with Christopher had ended with calm dialogue, he’d had a chance to build up a substantial rage again in the time it took Christopher to retrieve Achilles.
Now, the third knight in the Unholy Trinity had his full focus.
“Sit down,” he commanded, pointing to a chair near the hearth. “Sit there and do not move. I have questions.”
Achilles did as he was told, planting his big body on the chair and gazing up at The Marshal expectantly. William often reacted strongly to things involving his warriors, so this was not unexpected.
But it was concerning.
William, still mulling over everything he’d been told, finally turned to him. “Earlier this year, I freed you and Maxton and Kress from the dungeons of the Lords of Baux,” he said. “Is that a true statement?”
“It is, my lord.”
“I freed you, and paid an enormous ransom, to serve me.”
“You did, my lord.”
“Eleanor of Aquitaine even paid part of your ransom because your first task for me was to prevent her son, John, from being eliminated by papal assassins.”
“All true, my lord.”
William frowned. “I paid for three of the finest assassins money could buy,” he said frankly. “Your reputation as the Executioner Knights ran far and wide, and you came highly recommended.”
“Have we not performed flawlessly for you, my lord?”
William’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “When it came to preventing John’s death, you did,” he said. “But when it came to escorting Cadelyn of Vendotia to her betrothed, you failed miserably.”
“My lord, had the lady made it to her betrothed, it would have started a Welsh rebellion the likes of which we have not seen in a great while. It probably would have meant her death. It is better that the mission failed.”
“Shut your lips. I will do the talking.”
Achilles did as he was commanded. William glared at him for a moment before continuing.
“First, it was Maxton,” he said. “He married th
e postulate, the one that helped us identify the papal assassins, and I lost him to the Welsh Marches. Then, it was Kress – he absconded with a bride meant for another man and now lives somewhere in the wilds of Scotland. I have lost him, too. And now you; I understand you wish to return to Aysgarth Castle because of Susanna de Tiegh.”
“May I answer, my lord?”
“You had better.”
“It is true, my lord. I intend to marry the woman.”
Christopher hadn’t known that part of it and therefore hadn’t mentioned it to William. His eyebrows lifted slightly as he looked to The Marshal, whose reaction was to roll his eyes and hang his head. That seemed to bring his tirade to a pause and he turned away as if contemplating what the Executioner Knights had become. They were perfect and they were ruthless, but they were also men of flesh and blood and heart.
It was the heart that he was having difficulty with. First Maxton, then Kress… now, Achilles.
“I take it she is agreeable to this?” he finally said.
Achilles nodded. “She is, my lord.”
“Will you continue to serve me if you marry her?”
“With all my heart, I will, my lord.”
William sighed heavily. “And what of your wife? She has been with me longer than you have, you know. She is a tremendous asset and I hate to lose her.”
Achilles hadn’t really thought on all of this, on his future or Susanna’s future with The Marshal, so he simply lifted his shoulders. “I will leave that up to her, my lord,” he said. “If she wishes to continue serving you, I will not protest. But I will tell you that I will not be separated from her. Where she goes, I go.”
William grunted. “At least I will retain you both, unlike Maxton and Kress,” he muttered. “Maxton is still in my service, though I do not see him much, but Kress is long gone. I would be surprised if I ever see him again. You are the one to redeem the Unholy Trinity, Achilles. Make me at least feel as if I got my money’s worth when I bought your freedom from the Lords of Baux.”
“As long as Susanna and I can serve together, I will do my very best, my lord,” he said. “But someday, I should like to have a home for Susanna. I would make an excellent garrison commander for one of your properties or even for Lord de Lohr.”
William glanced at Christopher. “Do you hear that? He wants to push me aside and serve you at an outpost.”
Christopher fought off a grin. “A wise choice.”
William pursed his lips irritably at Christopher and returned his attention to Achilles. “Until the day comes that I install you at one of my holdings, you will continue to serve me as I see fit,” he said. “When do you intend to return for Susanna?”
“Right away, my lord, but first, Alexander and I have information we believe you should be aware of.”
“What of?”
“News from Aysgarth that does not have to do with Susanna, but with her brother and his activities. Sherry may know more, as he had a longer conversation with de Tiegh than I did. He can tell you.”
William looked at Alexander, crooking a long finger at the man. “Come here.”
The focus now turned to Alexander as he came away from Kevin and Bric, going to stand next to Achilles.
“My lord?”
William took a long, hard look at him. “Before we discuss Aysgarth, we are going to discuss the de Shera betrothal,” he said. “You were the escort commander. It was your duty to make sure Cadelyn of Vendotia made it to Tatius de Shera. I charged you with an important task, Sherry.”
Alexander had known this moment was coming and was frankly surprised it had taken so long. “You did, my lord,” he said. “But as Lord Hereford has explained and Achilles has said, it was better that Lady Cadelyn did not make it to her intended. An entire Welsh rebellion was waiting for her.”
William was back to being irritated. “Mayhap that is true, but you still failed.”
“I do not think you would be happier if I succeeded, my lord.”
William wasn’t going to argue with him. He simply wanted to stress the point that Alexander de Sherrington had failed at something, even if it had turned out for the best. The entire story, as told by Christopher, had been shocking and serious, and he didn’t want to hear it repeated at the moment because he was still trying to absorb what he’d been told. After a moment, he turned away from Alexander and headed over the table against the wall that contained his fine wine and pewter cups.
“What is done is done, I suppose,” he said, suddenly sounding less irritated and more weary. “I am not pleased with your failure but, in this case, mayhap it was for the best. Christopher has just spent a good deal of time with Tatius trying to help the man rebuild his earldom, but we shall discuss that later. Right now, I want to know what is happening at Aysgarth.”
Alexander watched the man take a healthy gulp of wine. Perhaps it was moments like this, with knights who were not doing as he wished and the world was trying to upend itself, that William needed the fortification of the ruby red liquid. Alexander was glad for it because he was fairly certain that The Marshal wasn’t going to like what he was about to tell him.
He proceeded carefully.
“Susanna was injured in the battle at Longton, when the Welsh rebels made themselves known and tried to take Cadelyn away from us before we could deliver her to Tatius,” he said. “After spending several days at a tavern so she could heal somewhat before we moved her, we rode north at a slow pace to Aysgarth so she could recuperate fully at her brother’s home.”
“That great norther bastion with a lord who refuses to declare his loyalties,” William muttered as he turned to him. “Did Susanna tell you that?”
“She did, my lord.”
“I have sent her home on occasion to see to her brother’s activities, but it has never amounted to anything.”
“It has now, my lord.”
“Do tell.”
Alexander complied. “When we arrived at Aysgarth, we immediately spied an army in a training ground that is located below the castle,” he said. “I saw the men, as did Achilles, and we noticed their oddly-shaped shields. I did not see one man with a recognizable standard. In fact, they seemed rather rag-tag and disjointed.”
“Explain.”
“They were not a cohesive group, my lord. There were groups of men dressed quite differently from each other and seemingly segregated from each other. The language they spoke was something I’d heard in Thuringia and the shields they used were not English.”
William was listening closely. “Who are they?”
Alexander lifted his shoulders. “If I had to guess, I would say they were mercenaries,” he said. “There were at least a thousand, but strangely, de Tiegh mentioned that they do not belong to him.”
William was puzzled. “He has a mercenary army that does not belong to him?”
“That is what he told us, my lord.”
William stroked his chin thoughtfully as he pondered the information. “So he is holding a mercenary army for someone else,” he muttered. “That is a bizarre statement.”
“I thought so, too, but I did not press him for fear he would become suspicious of why I was so interested. I thought it best to return to London to tell you what we saw.”
“Does he know who you serve?”
Alexander shook his head. “We were wearing the Pembroke standards but we told him that we ambushed two Pembroke knights and stole them,” he said, grinning. “We told him that the Pembroke standard brought us an inordinate amount of free meals and lodgings, so we wore them in order to gain anything free they could provide for us. We made it clear that we did not actually serve you.”
William had to shake his head at Alexander’s rather clever, and mischievous, lie. “I wondered if he believed you.”
“He seemed to. He knows my older brother, Estienne, so that seemed to cause him to instantly trust me. I did not feel at any time that he was suspicious.”
William eyed him. “Lord Broxburn? Your brot
her is associating with de Tiegh?”
“They are evidently friends.”
“Then you could always ask your brother what he knows.”
“I have not spoken to my brother in almost fifteen years and I do not intend to start now, my lord.”
William thought about pressing that but quickly decided against it. Alexander and his relationship with his unscrupulous older brother was a conversation for another time, so he let it slide.
“Aysgarth is near Richmond,” he said. “That is a royal property but the garrison commander is loyal to me. Do you know Caius d’Avignon?”
Alexander’s eyes widened. “Cai?” he repeated in surprised. “Of course I know him, my lord. He served Richard in The Levant in much the same capacity as the Unholy Trinity and I did, only Cai was far more… merciless, if such a thing is possible. The Muslims called him Britania Faybr.”
“What does that mean?”
“The Britannia Viper.”
That seemed to bring some mirth to William’s eyes. “I have seen the ink he has on his arm in the image of a viper,” he said. “Whoever tattooed the man did a remarkable job, for it is quite detailed.”
Alexander nodded, warming to the conversation about a man he knew well and very much admired. “He received it in The Levant. All he had to do was show that image to the enemy and they would flee in fear. In fact, Cai and I served together on several occasions when that tattoo was used to our advantage. Once he showed it, he would strike. It was a harbinger of things to come.”
William rather liked that kind of fear and the man who caused it. “Cai is indeed as unpredictable as he is deadly,” he said. “But he returned home to serve me, at Richard’s request, and he has been with me for several years. To be honest, I believe he is rather bored up in Richmond, but I need him there. England has many rogue barons in Yorkshire and I need Cai to keep watch of them. He might know why de Tiegh is building up a mercenary army that is not his own.”
“Have you heard of de Meynell, my lord?”
William nodded immediately. “Whorlton Castle, which is not far from Aysgarth or Richmond. De Meynell is married to a Teutonic woman with ties to the Count of Gotha and he is very much opposed to our king. Why do you ask?”
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