“Well, I wanted to give the family a gift that would benefit them, but these two are actually talking about undoing the gift,” he said, gesturing to Henry and Martha.
Thomas put his arm around William’s shoulders. “They are always like that,” he said sympathetically.
“Are you two quite through?” Martha asked.
“Are you?” Thomas looked at William, who shrugged. “Yes, Mother,” he announced. “We are quite finished.”
They brought Thomas up to speed and left off with the question, “What do we do?”
“Now, I think we can assume the note is genuine,” Martha said, cutting to the point. “I received some intelligence a few weeks back that Richard had been involved in a massive battle with the Moors on the Iberian Peninsula, in which he and his mercenaries were soundly defeated. There was no word on what became of him specifically, though, and I have been waiting for some confirmation ever since. I wasn’t even sure if it was true until now. But this would seem to fit. Why don’t we treat it as if it is?” she suggested.
“Okay, then let’s answer some questions right up front.” Henry took over again. “Is paying a hundred thousand pounds sterling even an option?” he asked flatly. He remembered all too well the conversation Martha had with the king’s messenger.
They all looked at their mother. She slowly shook her head. “No. I don’t think we could even pay half that.”
“Then, we have to retrieve him by force,” Thomas said.
“We could never field an army in time,” Henry protested. “They want his ransom delivered on Damascus soil in a month.”
“What army?” Thomas said. “It is just a group of brigands.” Henry waited for him to elaborate. “Who else takes prisoners and ransoms them? Soldiers do not do that. There is a code of honor that forbids such mercenary behavior among soldiers.”
“Wait a minute, how do we know he is even alive?” Henry protested. “It is a fool’s charge that trades warm bodies for cold ones. Besides, I have a hard time seeing Richard ever being taken prisoner. He would fight his way out or die trying.”
Thomas spread his hands in front of him, “You may well be right, but what choice do we have? We can’t take the chance.”
“Of course we can! Before we sacrifice men, silver, and time that we do not have to rescue a brother who was nothing more than a burden to us when he was around, let’s face the reality. Richard has been dead to us a long time; he just may not have been physically dead until now.”
There was silence in the room. “But he’s your brother,” Martha said quietly.
“Is he?” Henry shot back. “Has he really been a brother, son, or friend to any of us? Now you’re advocating putting our lives, as well as others’, in danger to retrieve him. And if we die, what becomes of Dawning Court then? Who is going to put things back together without us?”
“What you say is true,” Thomas conceded. He actually agreed with Henry completely but saw a chance to win favor with his mother and impress Leah and his recently returned younger brother. “But again, what choice do we have? He is our brother. He is a Dawning. We have all made mistakes, but we cannot leave one of our own in the hands of the enemy. If it were me, I would pray someone would come for me, despite my mistakes. Everything you just said about Richard could be said about me. I am going after him, but I can’t do it alone.”
There was silence, but no one argued. “Then we proceed as if he is a victim, and we discover his treachery,” Henry said reluctantly. “If he is on the other side authoring this mystery, then we discover once and for all how far he has fallen and deal with it at that point.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“William!” Henry said in a loud voice, startling William from his doze on the sofa.
“What? Who?” he said, looking around confused as if he expected the Moors to come charging through the door.
“You mind looking at Damascus with us?”
“Why? Has it gone missing?”
Henry breathed a heavy sigh of exasperation. “What did you last hear?”
“Uhhm, Richard? Saracens?..” he offered, hoping someone would fill in the rest for him. No one obliged him. “Did you say something about carrier pigeons?” Thomas smirked and reclined in his chair at the table, putting his hands behind his head as he watched the spectacle between the two unfold.
“Unbelievable!” Henry snapped, standing upright from where he had been leaning on the table, holding the rolled map flat. It instantly curled up, forgotten. “Your own brother’s life is at stake and maybe yours too. Are you such a buffoon that you cannot pay attention for an hour while we figure out how we are going to get five hundred knights into the region without starting a war?”
“I have the utmost confidence in you, brother. You always were very bright. Now,” William said standing. "If we are going into a war with only five hundred knights, I need my rest.” And he started to walk for the door.
“It seems the stories we heard of the great warrior and master strategist were exaggerated,” Henry fired at him.
“Oh, they almost certainly were,” William said without turning back. “All I did was ensure that I got out in one piece.” The color drained from Henry’s face. Martha quickly stood and rested a placating hand over Henry’s trembling one. She stepped over to William.
“William,” she said softly, “Henry is very smart, but we need you.”
“Oh, this is so boring!” he protested, but seeing she was unmoved tried another tactic. “I'm a foot soldier, what do I know of strategy and battle plans? I just charge in and hope I come out the other end. It does not pay to think too far into the future when you are part of the infantry. The moment you make plans for dinner—” He made a slashing motion with his finger across his throat.
“He should not have to shoulder this burden alone, and what help would Leah and I be in battle plans?”
“Truth be told,” William confided in her, “I considered my duty done when I delivered this message. I did not really plan on returning to Damascus anytime soon. I didn’t really care for it the first time, you know." Martha dropped her eyes in shame at her son’s words. “And this place is so deep in, we could dine with the Caliph of Bagdad. Who is the acting Caliph these days?”
“That’d be An-Nasir,” Thomas provided helpfully.
“Right.”
“How do you know that?” Henry demanded.
“Thomas just told me.” William said, confused. “Thomas, how do you know about the Caliph?”
“Well I-”
“No,” Henry barked. “The location. I am not even sure where this place they describe is.” He looked down at the letter again. William reached over and snatched the letter from him and turned it over to reveal a hand-drawn map on the reverse side. Henry flushed in embarrassment.
“William,” Martha tried again, “surely you will not leave this burden to your brothers alone. This is a responsibility of all worthy Dawning males.” The word “worthy” clearly intended to exclude the two remaining brothers that were not present.
William started to protest again when his gaze fell on Leah. Her beautiful hazel eyes met his with a plaintive expression that sent a pang to William’s heart.
“William,” Martha said in the same soft tone. “Please?”
“Very well, Mother, because your charms are still so irresistible even after all these years. But I doubt my ideas and the current plan are going to mesh very well.”
“Why is that?” Martha asked.
“Because you are arming to go against a band of rogues, and that is not who has Richard.”
“What?” Martha said, looking at the others. “What do you mean?”
“He has been captured by an army, not by highwaymen.”
“How do you know that?” Henry challenged.
“Think about it,” William said. “Where was Richard when we last knew for certain of his whereabouts?”
“The Iberian Peninsula,” Martha replied, unsure of where he was
going with this. “His army was lost to a horde of Moors. We had no word on his individual fortunes until today.”
“Now he is certainly being held in Damascus, not far from where they are demanding we meet them in that note. Rogues would not have had the resources or indeed a reason to transport him hundreds of leagues. Besides, the Richard I know would not have been taken captive by a band of rogues. Richard had many shortcomings.” He began enumerating them. “A deep thinker?” William chuckled. “Attractive? Certainly not. Kind? Pshaw.”
“That’s enough, William.”
“I just wanted to be sure we all knew we were talking about the same Richard,” William grinned at his mother. When no one grinned back, he continued. “Richard was many things, but one to be taken alive by highwaymen? I think his pride alone would have killed them or him on the spot.”
“So how many men would you take against this supposed army?” Henry inquired, still unconvinced. “A thousand? Five thousand?”
William shook his head. “Mother, how many men could you spare right now?”
Martha Dawning sucked in her breath slowly. “These are very dangerous times. Peasant uprising, baron wars, King John’s misguided exploits, all demand many men at a moment’s notice. Quite frankly, I’m nervous about the five hundred we have been considering.”
“Exactly,” William said as if she had just made his point for him, and started to turn for the door.
“Exactly what?” Henry’s irritation was growing by the moment. “You haven’t said anything of value at all.”
“Oh, did I forget that part?” William said, scratching the back of his head and looking befuddled. “Are you sure I didn’t explain my plan between when you asked how many men I wanted and when I asked Mother—”
“Come to the point,” Henry barked.
“The point is we leave the five hundred knights at home to defend Dawning Court where they belong. Well, most of them anyway.”
Henry started to protest, but Martha interrupted him. “You’re talking about subterfuge,” she said, looking at William closely.
“I—” he started, but thought better of it. “Yes.”
“Tell me what you have in mind.”
William laid out for them a crafty but risky plan for Richard’s rescue.
“That is very dangerous. You are jeopardizing the lives of every man involved,” Thomas pointed out seriously.
“That’s true,” William said in his same unconcerned way. “But it minimizes the risk to Dawning Court. In this case, the most we lose is fifty men. Besides, how many men does it take to pay some money to some thugs? It’s all about making the enemy believe you have a certain number of men regardless of how many you actually have.”
“This is madness,” Henry said. “We would all certainly be killed.”
“I thought you knights loved that sort of thing. What is more glorious than being cut down by an enemy while trying to rescue a fallen brother that nobody really wants rescued? It is the most selfless and noble of deaths.”
“Does your own life mean nothing to you?” Henry demanded darkly, glaring at his younger brother.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I am not a knight, so I am allowed to try to keep a cravenly grasp on my worthless little life.” He grinned at his brother's scowl and then turned back to his mother. “Anyway, that is what I would do. You may do as you wish. Now if you will excuse me, I really must get some sleep. I'm afraid I am quite the tragic spectacle with no rest. Dishonored, I can accept. But dishonored and unbecoming, well, that will never do.”
“And, of course,” Henry piped up, “you will not help us if we do not do it your way.”
“Oh, on the contrary, brother,” William said with a wicked grin. “My mind has been changed by this fair maiden,” he said gesturing to Martha. “Where else would I be but in the battle’s front? Do it your way if you like and I will ride into doom with you. Or sneak in as I suggested and I will sneak into our destruction right along with you,” William puffed up regally. “I have pledged my spear to the cause,” he said, snatching it from the corner and raising it high. “And you well know what that is worth!” he declared.
Henry glowered at him. “No, what is that worth?”
William slowly lowered his weapon, looking unsure of himself. “Uh, well, I really did not expect you to put me on the spot like that,” he said. “Do I put its value in monetary terms or perhaps in sentimental value?” He raised the weapon again. “It is worth the hearts of twenty fair maidens.”
Henry massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and said nothing. “Good night, William,” Martha said, turning back to the map with a tolerant smile.
“Oh and Henry, one more thing,” William said as he opened the door to go. Henry looked up. “Remember, I did just pledge my spear, not my sword or dagger, okay? I just wanted to be clear about that.”
Henry deliberately ignored him, which made William grin from ear to ear as he left the library.
“Well, it really has gotten late,” Leah tried to sound nonchalant moments after the door closed behind William. “I really ought to take my leave,” she said, standing and smoothing her dress. “Are you sure there is nothing I can do for you here, lady?”
“No, Leah,” Martha said knowingly. “Your companionship through all this has been much needed and much appreciated. I thank you.”
“Not at all, lady; I only hope my company was not too much of a burden on you in this difficult time.”
“Your company could never be a burden. Let me ring for Sebastian to show you to your room.”
“Oh, lady, I would not impose-”
“Nonsense. It is late and you are staying here. Now, I will ring up the servants—”
“Please don’t trouble him at this hour, lady. I am sure I can find my own way. I fear I’ve imposed so often that I know your home as well as my own.” Leah was already moving to the door, and Martha smiled indulgently. She looked to Henry, but his gaze was studiously fixed on the map and seemed to be taking no notice of the conversation.
“Leah,” Martha said as Leah opened the door.
“Yes, lady?” she turned back respectfully, her tone not betraying a bit of her impatience. “I need not rehearse to you the sensitivity of this matter?”
“No, lady,” Leah assured her.
“I must beg that not a word of what you have heard here is ever breathed into an ear that was not present here tonight.”
“Of course, lady. I should never—could never—do anything to endanger the Dawnings.” Martha nodded, and Leah quietly left the room.
“I am not sure how much I trust that,” Henry muttered the moment the door clicked shut. He still did not look up from the table.
“You doubt Leah’s loyalty?” Martha asked surprised.
“I think the lady may not be all that she purports to be.”
“What a silly thing to say,” Martha chided him. “How could anyone, particularly you, think Leah to be anything but the beautiful creature she is?”
“Oh, she is pretty enough,” Henry said, his ire rising at his mother’s reproach, “but her heart is false.” Martha’s eyebrows shot up, and he realized he had said too much. “False as all women are… not to be trusted.”
“To say nothing of the injustice you have just done to my sex in general,” Martha started, “need I remind you that you yourself have brought a young lady home after knowing her but a few weeks; a young lady who at this very moment rests under your largess in our guest chambers? How do you reconcile that to your generous opinion of women?”
“What’s this?” Thomas had risen also when Leah departed.
“Oh mother, do not rush to make more out of this than it is. I have become reacquainted with an old friend while in London, and she has accompanied me back to Dawning Court,” he explained to Thomas. “It was an idle comment and nothing more, Mother.”
“Of course,” she said dubiously, her brow still furrowed. “I would remonstrate over the compan
y I was keeping if such idle comments would slip from my tongue without a second thought.”
“Why do you persist in your reproof?” Henry demanded. “William uttered nothing but nonsense and stupidity all evening and you reproved him not once!”
“Is that what this is about?” she asked. “William?”
“I am just, umm…” Thomas tried to interrupt and saw they were not listening. “Tomorrow then,” he said to no one in particular and slipped out of the room.
“This is not about anything excepting the matter that you seem determined to make it. I am your loyal, faithful son, and yet you see fit to find fault with my every word; meanwhile all your other sons do err grievously, and they are left in peace.”
“Whatever are you talking about, Henry?”
“I shall not deign to waste more words on a subject which you have failed entirely to understand the first time through.”
“Henry, if this is about William, you are correct. He has a great many faults, and I would never pretend otherwise. But his heart is noble and true. I have always known that about him.”
“And what of my heart, Mother?” he said loudly, seeming more enraged by her remarks rather than less.
“Henry, I do not know what you want to hear.”
“Is that the best you can manage? I have done everything my entire life exactly according to your expectations. I trained, I studied, I excelled at everything I could. I served in the Crusades to represent the family. And now I am here, leading the recovery efforts of one of my misguided brothers. And the only kind words you can spare for me are ‘I don’t know what you want me to say’?”
“Henry,” Martha said, desperate to calm him down but feeling like everything she said was only enraging him further. “You have no reason to be jealous of William or anyone else.” She tried to reach across the table and lay a hand on his cheek but he pulled away. “You are a wonderful boy,” she finished flatly.
“Then why is it that I have to demand words of approbation from your mouth? I am certain you would not be saying so had I not insisted. I am your best son. I am the smartest and most loyal. I have done everything you ever wanted of me, but now…”
The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series) Page 22