“I will have to do this without raising suspicion.”
“That will be your problem. If we do not see the torches, we will not come because we will assume you have failed.”
“I will not fail.”
It was an acceptable plan. Frederick dropped the man he was holding and marched over to the table. As he reached it, he drew the sharp end of the dirk across his forearm, immediately drawing blood. It dripped onto the table top, rich and red. He pointed at the blood.
“I swear by my blood that I will do this,” he said, his voice raspy and intense. “Mingle your blood with mine and swear you will uphold your end of the bargain. Do it now.”
Brandon held the man’s gaze for a moment before moving to the table, taking the dirk from Frederick’s hand, and carving it into the flesh of his left forearm near the elbow. His blood dripped down his white flesh and onto the table, mingling with Frederick’s. Then, he planted the dirk right in the middle of the bloody patch.
“There,” he said, sounding unhappy and irritated. “Now you have your promise. You will ride to Black Castle tomorrow morning and open the gates in three days upon the full of the moon. Betray us and we will hunt you down and make you pay. Is this is any way unclear?”
Frederick smiled at him, a surprising gesture. “Betray me, and I shall do the same.”
Brandon returned the smile, an odd and uncomfortable gesture. “Then we understand one another.”
“We do indeed.”
The next morning before sunrise, Frederick was on his way back to Black Castle, trying to figure out a way to gain access to the castle without getting killed in the process. The only logical solution was to plead forgiveness and hope Devlin was in a forgiving mood. He was sure he could placate the man and apologize, swearing he was not in his right mind when he acted in haste. He hoped it would be enough to get back into Devlin’s good graces.
And then he would destroy him.
Chapter Eighteen
Glenteige Castle
Emllyn realized too late that she had been summoned to de Noble’s solar.
Having spent the past two hours comforting Elyse against her father’s slander, truthful though it might be, Connaught had shown up at Elyse’s chamber door and had asked Emllyn to accompany him. He gave her some story about something happening in the kitchens and asked if she would attend to it on Elyse’s behalf. Not wanting to upset her friend further with minor tasks of the household, Emllyn had agreed.
But it had been a trap. Connaught hadn’t taken her to the kitchens at all; as they were heading to the keep entry which would take them outside to the kitchens, he suddenly veered to the left and took her straightaway into de Noble’s solar. Once they were inside, he promptly removed her hand from his elbow, walked out, and shut the door behind him.
Startled and instantly uneasy, Emllyn looked over to see de Noble standing behind his desk. He was predictably well-groomed, standing next to the lancet window and gazing out over the ward beyond. Emllyn’s surprise was turning to anger; she didn’t like being trapped. Without a word, she turned to open the door but de Noble’s voice stopped her.
“Please,” he said rather loudly, causing Emllyn to pause with her hand on the latch. “Do not leave. I very much wish to apologize for my behavior earlier so I asked Connaught to bring you here. I knew you would not come if he told you I had summoned you.”
Emllyn looked away from him. Her hand was still on the latch but she just stood there, looking at the floor. “And so you have apologized,” she said. “Surely you should be apologizing to your daughter and not to me.”
De Noble turned to look at her as he came away from the window. “I will, in time,” he said. “But only for the way I spoke to her, not for the words I said. She has been making a mockery out of me for quite some time. She deserved everything I said.”
Emllyn didn’t know what to say; she kept her hand on the latch and her gaze averted. “Will that be all, my lord?”
De Noble made his way over to her. “Nay,” he replied. “In fact, you have made somewhat of a mockery of me as well.”
Emllyn’s head snapped to him, her eyes ripe with fury. “For what?” she said. “For refusing your suit? If anyone has made a mockery of you, it is you. You do not know when to abide by a lady’s wishes; you push and push, making a fool of yourself over a woman who is clearly not interested in you.”
By this time, de Noble had reached her. He came to a halt, his dark eyes glittering at her. “Mayhap,” he said softly. “I suppose it is my arrogance that drives me to do it. I keep telling myself that I am a patient man but the truth is that I am not. There is a beautiful and unwed woman in midst and I cannot help but succumb. May I ask a question, my lady?”
Emllyn was frustrated and impatient, but she nodded her head shortly. “I suppose, if you must.”
De Noble smiled faintly at her reaction. “What is it about me that you find so unappealing?”
Emllyn tried not to look at him as she spoke, although his question had been gentle. She was struggling not to feel sorry for him.
“You are not unappealing, my lord,” she said. “But if your daughter has told you anything about me, which I suspect she has, then you know I lost my love in my brother’s attack on Black Castle. That was a mere few weeks ago and I am still mourning his loss. I cannot even think of another man at the moment so I would appreciate it if you would give me that consideration.”
De Noble nodded in understanding. “She did tell me that,” he said. “But she also told me that you and that farmer who brought you here, John, were lovers.”
Emllyn rolled her eyes. “John saved my life,” she said flatly. “That does not mean we are lovers. He is a very kind man and he made me feel safe. What is so terrible about that?”
“Nothing.”
“And even if we were lovers, that would make me the whore you accused your daughter of being, so why would you want to pursue a relationship with a whore?”
De Noble just looked at her, intently. One moment, he was standing there and in the next he was pulling Emllyn into a crushing embrace. His mouth came down on hers, brutally, and Emllyn slapped him so hard that the man lost his grip on her. As de Noble stumbled back, looking both startled and horrified, Emllyn threw open the solar door.
“Try that again and I shall ram my knee into your manhood so hard that you’ll be spitting blood for a week,” she snarled. “You are nothing but an old, silly fool, de Noble. Stay away from me!”
As she marched out into the foyer beyond, leaving de Noble in stunned silence, a soldier suddenly rushed in through the big, open entry. He looked around frantically in the dim light of the foyer and, spying de Noble in the doorway to his solar, he rushed the man.
“My lord!” he said swiftly. “We have sighted an incoming party.”
De Noble wiped at the corner of his mouth, slightly bloodied from Emllyn’s clip. “Who are they?” he asked. “Can you tell?”
The sentry shook his head. “We are not sure, my lord,” he replied. “But they are coming from the north.”
Black Castle is to the north! Emllyn paused in her haste to leave de Noble, her heart leaping into her throat. De Noble didn’t even look at her as he walked past her and out into the ward beyond and Emllyn hardly cared; she was happy to have the man well away from her but more than that, she was thrilled with the prospect that Devlin might actually be returning. Was it possible? The mere idea swamped her until her pulse pounded and her breathing came in funny little gasps.
Knowing she would receive a much better view of the village and the subsequent outlying areas from the smaller third floor chamber that was usually kept available for visiting guests, Emllyn gathered her skirts and raced up the stairs.
Her heart was throbbing in her ears as she reached the third floor and bolted into the empty chamber with its naked bedframe and sparse furnishings. This chamber was situated so that it had a view of the north and west with a big oriel window much the same as the one Emllyn ha
d. Eagerly, she climbed upon the windowsill as much as she dared and strained to catch a glimpse of the incoming party.
In nervous silence, she settled down to wait.
They could see the de Cleveley settlement in the distance, a great spattering of stone and thatched buildings and the walls that enclosed them, and right in the middle was the tall and stately keep. As Devlin and Victor, leading the pack of English prisoners, drew close enough to the settlement to see the sentries on the walls, Devlin turned to Victor.
“Now,” he said, eyeing the village in the distance, “if my treacherous commander has made it here before me, then they will be waiting for me, I am sure. Since I do not wish to walk into a trap, you and your men will wait here and I will continue on to the gates where I will ask to speak with the commander. I am fairly certain at that point I will know if Frederick has made it here before me. De Noble’s reaction upon seeing me will tell me much.”
Victor, too, was eyeing the village in the distance. “And then what?” he said. “De Bermingham, all they need do is send out a group of men on horseback to capture you if that is the case. You cannot flee them on foot.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Victor nodded firmly. “I do,” he said. “Let me go to them and find out what I can. If your man has indeed made it here and betrayed both you and my daughter… I mean, the Lady Emllyn… then I will find out. If she is in the vault, then I will tell the commander that it is your wish to exchange thirty-three English prisoners for her life. You had better let me be the emissary because if you go near them and they know who you are, then both you and the Lady Emllyn will be in serious danger. I do not know if I will be able to get you out of it.”
Devlin looked rather amused. “You would try and get me out of danger?” he asked. “Why?”
Victor gave him a rather dead-pan look, although there wasn’t much weight behind it. It was an expression coming from a man who knew he had little choice in the matter.
“Because when you marry my daughter, you will become the only son I have,” he said, watching Devlin grin. “I cannot let my only son become fodder for de Cleveley, no matter if you are Black Sword.”
Devlin couldn’t help but chuckle. “So you have come to terms with your only son, have you?”
“I have little choice.”
Devlin nodded in agreement, his humor fading. “That is true.”
Victor held his gaze a moment longer before waving him off in a somewhat light and dismissive gesture. “Moreover, you showed your English prisoners mercy you did not have to display,” he said quietly. “I at least owe you a measure of the same.”
“Even though it was I who destroyed Kildare’s fleet in the first place?”
Victor shrugged. “Such are the perils of war.”
Devlin’s gaze lingered on the man a moment. “Indeed they are,” he said, eyeing the settlement once more. “The situation being what it is, I will agree with your plans. You will go instead of me. However, if my commander has not come here and they still believe me to be John the farmer, then you will come back after contacting de Noble and bring us all in to the settlement. I will wait here with your men. You will tell de Noble that I rescued you from Black Sword’s dungeon and brought you here. That will give me much credibility in de Noble’s eyes.”
“Agreed.”
“One more thing; you should tell your men not to give away my true identity. That, too, will reflect badly on Emllyn. They must keep the secret if there is any chance of getting us all out of this situation unscathed.”
Victor nodded, glancing back at his collection of weary and worn men, including Trevor and his lover. The lover was an older man, a seasoned soldier, and along with William du Reims, whose health had suffered greatly in captivity, the three of them kept vigilant watch over the men. Victor eyed his group of weary and beaten men, now exhausted after a two day march south.
“I’ve not told them anything, you know,” he said quietly. “I was not going to say a word until you told me to.”
Devlin nodded, appreciating the trust. “Now is the time,” he said. “Let them know what is to happen. I will listen to what you say.”
Victor went to his men, collecting them around him, and tactfully explained the situation they were about to face. Everyone either seemed confused or apathetic about keeping Devlin’s identity a secret, and Devlin watched Trevor’s face in particular when Victor discussed the situation regarding Lady Emllyn or, as he suspected, his daughter, Cate. The man’s eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed with confusion. After a few moments as the news sank in, he shook his head with disbelief and rolled his eyes. Devlin nearly grinned.
In truth, all of the men seemed rather concerned for her, enough so that they were willing to lie about de Bermingham’s true identity. The lady’s peril was enough to guarantee their compliance on the matter. With his men informed and his task complete, Victor approached Devlin.
“Everyone is in agreement now,” he said. “Any further instructions?”
Devlin shook his head as he gazed at the settlement in the distance. He was hesitant to speak what was on his mind, the last few words before Victor faced an uncertain situation, but he felt he had to say something. It would weigh far too heavily upon him if he did not.
“If… if you do see Emllyn and confirm that she is your daughter,” he said quietly. “Do not… that is to say, I would rather that she….”
Victor cut him off. “I will not say a word to her about assuming the Lady Emllyn’s identity,” he said. “But if she sees you and I together, and she knows you have freed us from your vault, then she will assume we have spoken about her and she must further assume that I told you of the Lady Emllyn’s death. She is a bright girl.”
Devlin nodded, his eyes averted. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling at the moment; he was excited to see Emllyn, so much so that his hands were sweating. He couldn’t even begin to describe the longing in his heart, waiting to be quenched by the first vision of his angel in days. Everything leads me to thee, he thought to himself. But in the next breath, he wanted to take her over his knee so badly and spank her for lying to him that he could hardly think straight. It was an odd combination.
“I know she is,” he said. “I would rather she confess her identity to me of her own free will rather than you force it out of her.”
“As you wish.”
With that, Victor begged his leave and headed on foot to de Cleveley’s settlement while Devlin and the other knights took the group back into the forest that bordered Glenteige from the west. They would stay out of sight until Victor made his determinations. Meanwhile, as they waited for Victor to accomplish his directive, it afforded Devlin a closer look at the knight Emllyn had risked her life for.
Trevor was very efficient, helping settle the men and making comfortable the ones who had suffered the most. He even sat du Reims down because the man was in no shape to be on his feet. He seemed very concerned for the others, a show of compassion that was surprising from an arrogant young knight. When everyone was settled and breaking out the last of the jerky and cheese, Trevor approached Devlin.
“The men are settled, my lord,” he said politely. “Would you eat with us?”
Devlin inspected the man; he’d grown thinner since the first time he’d seen him in the vault. He could just picture Emllyn throwing herself at the handsome young knight and the man’s utter resistance to female company. After a moment, he shook his head.
“Nay,” he replied. “But take what nourishment you can. It has been a two day march and I do not know when we will be supplied with more food.”
Trevor simply nodded politely and turned away. But Devlin stopped him; he found he couldn’t help himself.
“I understand that the Lady Em… I mean, the Lady Catherine was somewhat of your shadow,” he said.
Trevor looked a little surprised by the question. And then he looked nervous. “Did Victor tell you that?”
Devlin shook
his head. “The woman who introduced herself to me as the Lady Emllyn did.”
Trevor was at a loss for words. But when he spoke, there was both concern and awe in his tone. “Then… then it is true she stowed away on Kildare’s armada?”
“To follow you, I was told.”
“But… in God’s name, why?”
Devlin shrugged. “She told me that she had followed her lover because she wanted to prove to him that she could be a good wife,” he said. Then, he wriggled his eyebrows ironically. “Why did you never tell her that you were not interested in women?”
Trevor was nervous still and he hesitated before answering. He knew what Devlin meant; it was obvious in his expression, but it wasn’t something he was keen on discussing with a stranger. Still, there was no point in avoiding the subject. It wasn’t as if he’d been hiding it since he and Nils had been joyfully reunited after their release from Black Castle’s vault. Nils had been in one cell and he had been in the other. They’d hardly been able to touch each other through the bars and crowded conditions.
“I did tell her,” he finally said. “But I did not use the correct terms, I suppose. I said I had no interest in a wife, but she seemed to take it as a challenge.”
“She would.”
“Then you have come to know her, my lord?”
Devlin nodded. Then, he laughed softly. “Have no fear,” he said. “When I see her again, I will not tell her why you had no interest in marriage. But take heart; I have a feeling she is no longer interested in you. I believe she has moved on to bigger prey.”
Trevor’s dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “She has?” he asked, relief in his voice. “If that is indeed true, then I would shake that man’s hand for doing me a great and important favor.”
Devlin just looked at him. Then, he slowly extended his hand. Trevor looked at it with confusion.
“I do not understand, my lord.”
Devlin’s lips twitched with a grin. “You said you wanted to shake the hand of the man who is doing you a great and important favor.”
Lords of Ireland II Page 28