The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series)

by James Batchelor

  “I expected you would be away for at least a few more weeks,” she said. “Henry was part of a group of scholars that was asked to review some ancient documents discovered by a group of crusading soldiers in the Holy Land,” Martha explained unnecessarily to Leah. “It seems his reputation precedes him.” She said the last to Henry himself.

  “It turned out to be nothing really.” Henry said dismissively. “Some letters of writ concerning the specifics of how an ancient campaign was to be conducted. Important historical documents, perhaps, but certainly nothing that required all the fuss that was made over this. They could have sent them to me and I could have translated them and returned them from the comfort of my own chambers.”

  Leah wiped her eyes quickly to hide that she had been crying. “I am sure your Lordship is being too modest.”

  “Not at all. I am happy to help where I can, but I wish they would offer a challenge before wasting my time.”

  “Henry,” his mother reproached him mildly. “Any service to the Church is service to God.”

  “That is a relief,” he said with some bite. “I would hate to think the last three years of my life were wasted. For if I wasn't serving God, who was I serving? Certainly not myself!”

  “You forget yourself,” Martha Dawning replied sternly. An awkward silence followed.

  “Uh,” Leah, anxious to break the tension, started. “What will you do now, Sir Henry, with your papal obligations behind you?”

  “That is funny you should mention that,” he said observing her reaction closely. “I have been disingenuous to claim that my trip was a complete waste, for I have brought back someone with me, a lady.”

  “Oh?” Martha’s eyebrows arched sharply.

  “Oh, Henry, that is wonderful,” Leah said sweetly. He was disappointed that her happiness seemed genuine.

  “And where is this lady?” Martha inquired.

  “She was exhausted from the trip, so I had her shown to the guest quarters for the evening.”

  “And what, may I ask, is the nature of her visit?”

  “She is a friend of mine. In fact, Mother, you know her; she is a Mayfield. Mary of Mayfield.”

  “A Mayfield?” Martha asked, surprised. “I have not heard from them since your father died. They had—” she stopped herself suddenly. “They had some disagreements with your father. Anyway, I should be very pleased to remake the acquaintance of this young lady.”

  “Tomorrow, Mother,” Henry assured her. He had taken a seat in a chair by now and looked to have no intention of departing. “Now, I must know what you two ladies were talking about that so captured your attention.”

  Martha and Leah looked awkwardly at each other, uncertain of what to tell him. They were spared the difficulty, however, when the door to the library again opened and they all stopped in shock.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “You actually have Richard Dawning?” Her beautiful olive features were solidly chiseled into a demanding countenance. “We must crucify him as an example to all future crusaders that even their mightiest knights offer no challenge for our lowliest farmers.” She turned to Amir. “Why did you not tell me who this was you had in the dungeon?”

  “Because I knew you would react as you are right now,” he grumbled.

  “Why should this man evince such emotions from me but nothing from you, from you of all people? How many times must you watch this family destroy the fortunes of those around you before you are willing to act? Allah has dropped this man at your feet and all you do is lock him away? We must exact vengeance for all the wrongs he and his family have done to us and flay the flesh from his body.” She insisted.

  Amir’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Killing this man would bring me pleasure for a moment, but retaining him will bring me victory, and there is no pleasure sweeter than victory. Besides,” he smirked despite himself, “I did not say we were going to leave him in peace.”

  She smiled at the thought of what they may be doing to Richard in the darkness below. “I believe that I would like to see that,” she said.

  “That will have to wait,” Amir said, standing up suddenly. “I have a mission that you are uniquely qualified for. Richard is the strongest of the remaining Dawnings,” Amir continued when he could see he had her attention, “and the oldest heir still in good standing with the family.”

  “And?” She asked impatiently.

  “And,” he said, “there is much we can use him for. But more importantly, that means there is no one in position to take over the Dawning barony.” Anisa was suddenly attentive. “With the only tenable option for Braden Dawning’s replacement and the only threat to John Dawning’s rightful succession tied to our wrack, it is time for us to act.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know John Dawning, and he is of the weakest character. That is why he let his mother push him out of his rightful seat when Braden Dawning died. He has been disinherited and lives in squalor. He is the perfect pawn to gain a foothold in English affairs.”

  “But you just said he will not contend for the seat.”

  “On his own he will not, but if we remind him he is the rightful heir and convince him to fight for it, then…” Amir left it hanging.

  “I don’t understand. If he becomes baron, what makes you think he would be any more sympathetic to our cause than his predecessor?”

  Amir looked irritated. “I am disappointed in your limited vision, sister. John will need two things to take the barony. He will need men, which he does not have, and he will need someone there to hold his hand while he walks the road to his destiny, which person he also lacks.”

  She was nodding now. “And we give him both of those things. At that point we will be indispensable to Baron Dawning. He will have nothing but what we give him, know nothing but what we tell him. He will be the perfect puppet.”

  Amir grinned at her. “I knew you would catch on.”

  She stood quickly. “There is much to prepare and we haven’t much time.”

  “Take whatever you need. Stay in constant contact with me, and I will join you when I have… finished with Richard.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “What are the odds of finding my three favorite people awaiting my return?” William asked with a grin from the door of the library. Martha, Leah, and Henry were speechless. “Hmm, perhaps I should come in again and see if we can manage a better reception.” He turned and walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. The three occupants all looked at each other in disbelief.

  The library door again opened and William marched in. “I have returned!” he announced imperiously.

  “How—” Martha began but could not formulate the words. “How did you get in here unannounced?”

  “Well, I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” William looked embarrassed. “Let’s just say Sebastian is going to have a nasty bump on his head when he wakes up.”

  Martha leapt up. “William, you didn’t!” She started for the door.

  “Of course not, Mother.” He arrested her progression toward the door with his hands on her shoulders. “I lived here all my life. I should be derelict indeed if I could not find my way in past a few house servants, and I do mean few. It is deserted out there since I left.”

  Martha Dawning’s mouth moved, but only tears came instead of words. William embraced her fondly. “I have missed you, too.” Leah and Henry were on their feet now.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Henry demanded.

  William’s eyes slid from side to side. “What is the meaning of what?”

  “Of this? Barging in here unannounced like this, after all this time?”

  “I live here,” William replied, moving toward him. “And I intend on sleeping in my chambers tonight, so if you are keeping the chickens there, I suggest you move them at once.” He grinned back at his mother. Then without warning he embraced Henry also, who looked very uncomfortable at first, but could not help himself and started to laugh a moment l
ater.

  Leah had watched these proceedings without comment, something like silent disbelief playing on her features. William turned and approached her slowly, unsure of what was appropriate after all this time. Did she still have feelings for him? Was she married? If so had they turned to bitterness and resentment? William took her hand searching her deep hazel eyes for some indication of her feelings. He could see the emotion there, but what it heralded he could not be sure. He slowly bowed and kissed her hand, never taking his eyes from hers.

  Leah turned her head suddenly, unable to look at him. It stabbed at William. He had never expected that he would return to Dawning Court, so he certainly had not expected that Leah would put her life on hold for him. But neither had his feelings for this girl—woman, he corrected himself—changed. And to see her now—the promise of her childhood had blossomed into a fully magnificent creature at whose feet he would have thrown himself in an instant if he thought it would change anything—made his heart ache.

  “You know Baron Braddock is still next door, and I doubt he has softened on the blood oath he swore against you,” Henry announced in order to break the moment Leah and William were sharing. “You have put us all in danger by coming here.”

  “Ah, you are right, of course,” William said, tearing his robe off over his head with one hand while he moved over to the sofa. Leah started when she saw what was underneath the robe. The last time any of them had seen him, his armor was gleaming and new. It was now a dull grey. It was stained and scarred on virtually every square inch of it. And while it still retained a certain regal luster, it was clear that it had given its beauty to rescue its owner a thousand times over. Even Henry was startled.

  “What have you been doing?” he asked unconsciously.

  William glanced down and shrugged. “Oh, it turns out when you try to run a people out of their lands, they don’t like it, no matter how many times you insist that God told you to do it. There is just no reasoning with some people. So they protested, usually with sharp objects. Except for this one,” he said fingering a recent tear in one of the chest plates. “This one was delivered right here at home.”

  “What do you mean?” Martha asked.

  “Funny you should ask, Mother. That is the reason I’m here now. But wait, it has been so long, we must catch up first.”

  “William!” His mother chided him. But he did not seem to notice.

  “So, everyone well?”

  “Sure,” Henry answered automatically, falling into his old habit of indulging his constantly flippant younger brother just enough to get what he wanted. He knew from long experience that resisting it only made him that much more perverse.

  “Anyone get married?”

  “Of course.”

  “Everyone happy?"

  “Why not.”

  “There, you see, Mother?” he said to her. “Was that so painful? Now we are all caught up and we can get on to business.”

  Reaching into the folds of his robe he threw a heavy metal object on the table that was standing roughly between them all, and it landed with a clunk. They all turned to look, and Martha gasped. Henry looked quickly back at William. “Is this some sort of joke, little brother?”

  “The way my life has worked out,” he commented wryly, “I am almost certain that it is. But it is not my joke.”

  “Where did it come from?” Martha persisted.

  “I suspect you know exactly where it came from,” William said dryly. “As to how it came, well it was delivered with this letter by two Saracen Men who chose not to tarry long enough to answer questions.”

  Martha took the offered letter and scanned it quickly. “This is a ransom demand. What is this flaky brown ink its written in?” she said, rubbing the flakes between her fingers.

  “That would be blood, Mother,” William said casually.

  “Presumably Richard’s blood.” Henry caught the letter as Martha instinctively recoiled in horror. He read over it quickly. Martha backed up and sat down weakly. Leah had not dared herself to interrupt. She was certain this was a dream.

  “It’s Richard, dear,” Martha breathed to Leah by way of explanation. “They have Richard.”

  “Now we don’t know that,” Henry objected, still reading the letter. “All we know for sure is that they have Richard’s crest that he wore in his breast plate, or perhaps an imitation of it. Richard could be on the other side of the world crusading, and we would have no way of knowing this was a ruse until it was too late. Richard could have lost the insignia in a battle, after which someone found it and hatched this whole farce.”

  “That’s true, but it doesn’t really make sense,” Martha shook her head. “An outsider would have no way of knowing that we weren’t in regular contact with Richard. They would assume that we were sending him regular reinforcements and would be informed of a major development such as Richard being taken prisoner. No, the questions we need to ask are ‘Is he dead or alive? Can we pay the ransom? Do we pay the ransom? And either way, how do we go about it’?”

  “I don’t think so.” Henry said. “You are taking too much for granted. All we really know is that someone wants money from us and that they have Richard’s insignia.” He looked to William for support.

  William deflected the question. “Where are John and Thomas? Let us hear their input.”

  “I will send for Thomas at once,” Martha rang for Sebastian. “Send a runner to Thomas and tell him he is needed here this instant. Also make up William’s chambers; he will be staying indefinitely.”

  “Of course, your Grace,” the aged servant nodded, not showing the least amount of surprise at William’s presence.

  “And Sebastian,” Martha called to him as he was departing, “not a word about any of this to anyone.” He only nodded stoically and closed the library doors behind him.

  “Well, someone’s obviously gone to great lengths to plan this,” Martha said in a depressed tone.

  “That someone,” Henry pointed out, “may well be Richard himself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mother, consider his history. Suppose now that he needs more money to continue his campaigning. He is low on men and supplies. Where is he going to get it? The Church does not support his unsanctioned campaign. His pride will not allow him to ask us for it, so he figures out another way. He pries the Dawning crest out of his breastplate, sends a note and expects us to send one hundred thousand pounds sterling.”

  “No, I refuse to believe that,” Martha shook her head. Henry looked at William for support, but William only shrugged.

  Seeing that he was getting no support for what he believed to be a very likely possibility, Henry changed tacks. “Well,” he said, sitting beside the others, “if we accept the note at face value, then I suppose the next question we have to ask ourselves is should we bring him back?”

  “Oh, Henry,” Martha said reproachfully. “He is your brother.”

  “Yes, but would we be going to great difficulty and expense to bring something back into our lives we will regret?”

  “To be sure, life is quite a bit more vexing when Richard is around,” William added sagely. “One never knows what is coming next with him, but one can be sure it is always bad. But on the plus side, everything is quite a bit more entertaining when he’s around. We could save a fortune on bards, jesters, and troubadours.”

  Martha looked down at the floor. “You don't remember Richard as a little boy,” she said quietly. “He was so tiny and sweet. He had health problems, you know? We worried about him so much as he began to grow into a timid, sweet boy. I remember any time I looked sad he would come over, climb up on my lap, and hug me because he knew it made me feel better.” She smiled at the memory. “It seems so strange that that same boy could have grown up to be so distant. He outgrew his illness, and I suppose he decided he was never going to be weak again. From that time forth he began training incessantly. He kept getting bigger and more aggressive with each passing year until he became the
man you both remember. I often wonder how this sickly little boy I used to sit up nights cradling in my arms could have grown to be a stranger to me. He is literally a part of me and yet has become something so unfamiliar. But then all my boys have to a greater or lesser extent grown into someone I hardly recognize. Each one has made choices that have taken them away from me.”

  Nobody spoke, and Martha’s reverie continued. “Children cannot remember all that their parents did for them. That is why a parent always loves a child more than the child loves the parent. But even so, I do sometimes wonder who these men are that call themselves Dawnings. These are surely not the children that played around my feet only a moment ago...” She trailed off with a distant look in her eyes.

  The doors opened again and the third Dawning male of the night made his appearance; in walked Thomas. “What is so important that my presence is required at this hour?” he demanded.

  “Richard has been taken prisoner,” Martha said simply, “and his captors are selling his freedom.” Thomas’ steps involuntarily slowed to a stop as that washed over him. He looked around at those assembled, trying to collect his thoughts.

  “What’s she doing here?” he nodded toward the chair Leah had taken after William’s arrival. It was next to the arm of the sofa that William was sitting against.

  “I will thank you to refer to me as ‘he’ when you are speaking about me as if I am not present,” William responded.

  “Perhaps, I should go,” Leah said, speaking for the first time since William had come in. She had kept to herself, not feeling it was her place to intrude but neither wanting to withdraw her support from the family at this crucial time.

  “I trust Leah implicitly.” Martha waved her back down into the chair. “I appreciate your support and welcome your company as long as you feel you are able to stay.” Leah nodded demurely and sat back down.

  William stood and clasped arms with Thomas warmly. “Little brother,” he said. “You do know how to make a return.”