Male voices.
Marcus was up in a flash.
“You stay here,” he told David, grabbing his sword. “I am telling you what you told me – cover up with hay and stay still. If it is the Welsh, I will lead them away.”
David opened his mouth but Marcus was gone, dropping through the hole in the loft with his weapon in hand. Already, David could hear some shouting as, down below, the animals began to make noise, as if they were restless.
There was panic in the air.
Quickly, David began to grab armfuls of hay to cover up Christopher, listening as a horse suddenly thundered out of the stable. Rushing to the vent, he caught a glimpse of Marcus racing out of the stable yard while men began to shout, chasing after him.
It was chaos in the stable yard as a host of Welsh began to run after Marcus as the man disappeared into the snowy night.
But that didn’t mean more men wouldn’t be around to check the stables, so David covered Christopher up with an enormous pile of hay, making it all look quite natural, before he began to hear noises down in the stable again. Convinced the Welsh were upon them, he grabbed his weapon and kicked hay over any remaining possessions that were exposed. Without time to cover himself, he ducked behind a support post that was big enough to shield him.
Someone was climbing into the loft.
“Uncle David?”
It was Peter. David came out of his hiding place, his weapon lifted defensively as he looked at Peter with both surprise and concern.
“What happened?” he hissed.
Peter had the wide-eyed look of someone feeling the rush of battle. “The Welsh saw Andra with my tunic,” he said. “They were men from the battle in Kington, six of them, who had come to demand shelter for the night. They stole some things, and slapped Lady Sianet when she told them she didn’t have any food or coinage. They burst into the kitchen just as Andra grabbed my tunic and that is what you heard – they were coming out into the yard because they were convinced Andra and Sianet were hiding an Englishman.”
David lowered the weapon. “And they followed Marcus out?”
Peter nodded. “I saw all six of them running after him, but I do not know if all of them went after him past the gate,” he said. “They only saw one tunic, so mayhap they believe that was the only man hiding. Still… they might come back here to make sure.”
David nodded, thinking on their options at that point. “It is not as if we can leave,” he said. “It looks as if the weather is easing, but it is still cold and snowing, and we cannot risk traveling with your father tonight. He… he’s gone to sleep, Peter.”
Peter’s brow furrowed, greatly concern, and he began to look around the loft. “Where is he?”
David pointed to a big pile of hay. “Underneath that,” he said. “He is warm and cozy, and there is room to breathe. Do not worry about him. But he cannot travel.”
Peter’s gaze lingered on the hay before looking back to his uncle. “Marcus may need help,” he said. “There are three horses down in the stable. I should go after him to see if I can help him.”
David had the same concern, so he couldn’t very well deny him. It was Marcus against six Welshmen. More than that, Marcus had ridden out in nothing more than heavy tunics. No mail, no protection. It had been a risky but heroic move. What was it Christopher had said? That Peter had the de Lohr heroic streak? David smiled faintly. It seemed that Marcus did, as well. Whether or not they were all related by blood, Marcus had the same selfless heroic streak in him that they all did.
And that’s what made them brothers.
“Then go and help him,” David said reluctantly. “But you will ride out in full protection. Get your mail coat on; get everything on. Where is Lady Andra, by the way?”
“With her mother,” Peter said as he began to grab at his mail coat and hauberk, dry but already rusting from the river adventure. He began to pull things over his head as David moved to help him. “Uncle David… I have been thinking that we should reward Andra and her mother for helping us. Don’t you think so?”
David settled the man’s hauberk over his head and shoulders. “Chris said we would,” he said. “Have no fear that they will be amply rewarded. But we have to get home alive first.”
With the hauberk on, Peter slapped on his helm and made his way over to the hole in the loft. “I will take one of the horses and when day breaks, there are two more horses for you and Papa to take home,” he said. “If I do not make it back here, I will see you at Lioncross.”
David looked at his nephew; big, strong, intelligent. He was the apple of Christopher’s eye. He hoped his brother would forgive him for sending him out to help Marcus in a very dangerous situation. But it couldn’t be helped and, as Christopher had said, the lad had a heroic streak.
David could see in his eyes that he wanted to prove it.
“Very well,” he said. “Be very careful, Peter. We do not need a dead hero.”
Peter smirked. “My father was dead, once.”
David slapped him lightly on the side of the head. “We were fortunate to get him back,” he said. “I do not want to chance that with you.”
Peter grinned before dropping down through the hole in the loft. David peered down into the stable, watching Peter quickly saddle one of the shaggy Welsh horses and take the beast out into the night. He lost sight of his nephew fairly quickly. David returned to his brother, who was sleeping, sheltered and warm, beneath a massive pile of hay.
All he could do now was wait.
But David didn’t sleep that night. Too much had happened. He sat next to his brother, listening to the wind die down until the eastern sky began to turn shades of purple and pink. The storm clouds had rolled away, leaving a winter-white landscape and a glorious morning.
But Peter and Marcus had not returned.
Andra returned to the stable when the sky began to lighten, bringing steaming wine and bread with her, informing David that the Welsh had returned the night before after chasing Marcus around for hours. The men had just left, heading back to their village, and Andra suggested that David and Christopher do the same.
It was time to move.
Andra helped David uncover Christopher from his hay coffin. Removing the last of it and brushing the chaff away from his face, Christopher awakened with surprising ease, which nearly drove David to tears. After what he’d witnessed the night before, he wasn’t entirely sure the man would awaken in the morning.
But he did.
Christ was born in a stable and it would seem that, in some small way, Christopher de Lohr’s life was spared in one.
A blessed event, indeed, on the most blessed day of the year.
Christmas.
CHAPTER FIVE
A BLESSED DE LOHR CHRISTMAS
Lioncross Abbey Castle
“I see something!”
Dustin heard those words and it spurred her into action.
Sitting in the great hall of Lioncross, where she’d been all night long, those words from Jeffrey at the keep entry had her heart racing. The sun had been up for over an hour and the land, so gorgeous and white, held no joy for her.
Only fear and heartache.
The children were already up, playing with their little toy wagons or poppets in front of the hearth as the servants brought in the Christmas morning meal, which wasn’t much at this hour. But later in the day, it would be a massive feast with roast beef and other delicacies to celebrate the season and the gathering of the families.
But Dustin hadn’t been able to think of any of that. She had been waiting patiently for her husband to return all night. But so far, he hadn’t shown his face. The army had returned but without four out of the seven knights who had ridden out with it. It was Max and Cabot who had told her of seeing Christopher fall into the river, with Peter and David and Marcus going after him. It had been a horrific story, in truth, and Dustin had tried very hard not to panic.
But now with the shouting in the bailey… now, there wa
s hope.
God, please let it be Chris!
Emilie and Gabrielle were with Dustin as they ran to the keep entry, out into the winter wonderland that had taken over Lioncross’ vast bailey. Men were everywhere, running towards the gatehouse where the portcullis was slowly lifting. Inch by inch, the ropes strained against the heavy iron fangs as the gate slowly lifted.
But no one was waiting outside once it cleared.
Even so, someone was evidently approaching because the sentries were still calling out the position of the riders. Dustin remained stoic, almost detached, while Emilie and Gabrielle held hands for support. No one wanted to panic, no one wanted to voice the possibility that it wasn’t their husbands returning at all.
No one wanted to entertain that thought.
Until they had a body, there was always hope.
Finally, two horses appeared at a distance. They could see them now, figures on small, shaggy horses making their way towards Lioncross. As they drew closer, Dustin suddenly let out a gasp and took off at a dead run.
She was very fast, as her husband had found out on more than one occasion. Jeffrey, standing in the gatehouse, tried to stop her, but she blew past him and he had no chance to grab her. Out into the snowy road she ran, screaming out when the horses drew closer to her.
“Chris!”
Christopher heard her. He’d been somewhat slumped in the saddle, mostly because his head was killing him and he was still a bit woozy, but her voice was like music to his ears. He’d had his eyes mostly shut because the glare from the snow hurt his head, but his eyes were closed no longer at the sound of her screams. In fact, he slithered off the horse and made his way towards her, slipping in the snow, until he and Dustin came together in a cataclysmic embrace. Christopher lifted her up, out of the snow, holding her tightly against him.
He was home.
“I am all right,” he assured her. “I am sorry we are so late, sweetheart, but with the storm, we had to find shelter and wait it out. But I promise, I will be fine.”
Dustin let him go long enough to look at him, very closely. “Max and Cabot said you fell off of the bridge in Kington,” she said. “What happened, Chris?”
Christopher sighed, watching as Emilie, realizing David had also come home, ran down the road and leapt into her husband’s arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. He could hear the woman weeping with joy.
“Max and Cabot were correct,” he said. “I was knocked into the river and Peter went after me to save me. Marcus and David saw Peter jump in, so they also jumped in to help. The current was so strong that it carried us down river until we were able to climb out. The storm was so bad at that point that we were in danger of freezing, so we had to find shelter.”
Dustin kept her arms around him as if she were afraid he was going to disappear. “And you did,” she said. “But where? There are not many farms south of Kington. Where did you find shelter?”
He put his arm around her shoulder, turning her around for Lioncross. He very much wanted to get inside and sit before a warm fire.
“A manse,” he said. “A woman and her daughter took us in for the night. We left as soon as we could. Speaking of leaving, have Marcus and Peter returned?”
Dustin couldn’t help but notice that he was walking very slowly. She put her arm around his waist, pretending she could give some support to a man of his bulk.
“Nay,” she said. “Were they not with you?”
Christopher didn’t like the fact that Marcus and Peter had not returned yet. He found himself glancing over his shoulder, hoping to see them somewhere on the road behind him.
“They were, for a time,” he said. “But Welshmen also sought shelter at the same manse, so we hid from them most of the night. At one point, they went looking for us and Marcus led them away from where we were hiding. Peter went after him to help him. I have not seen them since last night and was hoping they had returned to Lioncross.”
Dustin could hear the distress in his voice. “It is still early,” she said. “You have only just arrived yourself. I am sure they are coming. Peter has your intelligence and strength, and Marcus is too cunning to let anything happen to him. They will be here.”
Christopher shared her confidence but he was still concerned. “Gabrielle must be worried.”
“She is. But she knows her husband. She knows he will always return to her.”
Christopher fell silent a moment, thinking of the evening before. Of all of the events, from the bump on the head to nearly freezing to death to the story of Ezz and Marwah, the thing that stood out to him was his conversation with Marcus. That, more than anything, meant something to him.
We’ve never talked about what I did those years ago, Chris.
Truth be told, Christopher heard nearly everything Marcus had said, only he’d been so stunned and exhausted with it all that he hadn’t been able to respond. He’d been surprised that Marcus had never gotten over something Christopher had forgiven long ago. The fact that Marcus verbalized what a lesser man couldn’t, or wouldn’t, touched Christopher deeply. The man had been willing to speak on his failings and apologize for them.
Christopher had always considered Marcus his brother.
Always.
But he wouldn’t tell Dustin any of it, at least not today. Although she was involved in the situation, and deeply, he didn’t want to stir up what the years had healed. It had been a particularly difficult time for Dustin and he didn’t want to bring it up, on Christmas of all days. For Christopher, it had been a night of healing in that stable. Healing old hurts, old rifts.
They were gone, forever.
“Look!”
Someone at the gatehouse was shouting again. Christopher and Dustin, and David and Emilie turned to see two lone riders in the distance. They were emerging from a forest to the north, a different road from the one Christopher and David had taken. Everyone stood there, frozen to the spot, waiting for the riders to draw nearer. Was it Marcus and Peter? Or was it no one of note?
So much seemed to hang in the balance for those few tense moments.
Then, Christopher grinned.
“It is Marcus and Peter,” he said. “I’d recognize Marcus anywhere. He rides a horse like he has a stick up his arse. He sits as straight as an arrow.”
Dustin closed her eyes with relief, leaning her head against her husband’s chest. “Thank God,” she murmured. “Oh, thank God. They outwitted the Welsh.”
“Indeed, they did,” Christopher said, a warm glimmer in his eyes. “Come, Wife. Let us greet the men who saved my life.”
Gladly, Dustin did. Peter was the recipient of a motherly hug and Marcus received a kiss on the cheek. All of it, a great show of gratitude for the life of the husband she held so dear.
But for Marcus, it had been a defining moment.
In days past, the kiss to the cheek would have meant something to Marcus. He would have read something into it, perhaps affection from a lady he’d longed for so deeply, and for so long. In days past, his attention would have been on her even if his wife had been present, like she was now.
But since that great confession in the loft, a strange thing happened.
Marcus longed for Dustin no more. He felt friendly fondness for her and nothing else, and when Gabrielle rushed up to him to give him a warm and welcoming hug, he accepted it gratefully. For Marcus, he’d finally given up the pursuit of everything that had nearly ruined his life. He loved his wife, and loved his brothers in Christopher and David, and that was all he ever needed.
All he ever wanted.
Marcus Burton had finally grown up.
As for Peter, he kept his word and returned to Andra and Sianet, bringing with him the horses they had borrowed as well as coinage, food, and a milk cow. The cow was Dustin’s idea, something special to thank the two ladies for saving the lives of the most important men in her life. And it wouldn’t be the last time Peter ever saw Andra again, either.
But that’s a story for another time
.
For the de Lohrs, by blood or otherwise, it was a most blessed Christmas, indeed.
THE END
About Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
On October 29, 2015, Amazon launched Kathryn’s Kindle Worlds Fan Fiction site WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK. Please visit Kindle Worlds for Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack and find many action-packed adventures written by some of the top authors in their genre using Kathryn’s characters from the de Wolfe Pack series. As Kindle World’s FIRST Historical Romance fan fiction world, Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack will contain all of the great story-telling you have come to expect.
Kathryn loves to hear from her readers. Please find Kathryn on Facebook at Kathryn Le Veque, Author, or join her on Twitter @kathrynleveque, and don’t forget to visit her website and sign up for her blog at www.kathrynleveque.com.
Please follow Kathryn on Bookbub for the latest releases and sales.
Kathryn Le Veque on Amazon
A Very Medieval Christmas: A Medieval Romance Novella Bundle Page 28