Summerlin did turn to look at him, then. “It will not do you any good,” he said. “The two knights you seek are not with Norfolk.”
“Where are they?”
Summerlin turned back around. He wasn’t going to tell him. It was information that would betray those two knights and, subsequently, Norfolk. Now, the true test of wills would begin.
Atticus didn’t think that Summerlin would willingly supply the information but he was fairly certain that the knight knew where de la Londe and de Troiu were. If he didn’t know, he more than likely would have said so; therefore, his silence was telltale. As he lifted Titus’ sword to poke Summerlin in the back with it, a silent threat and a hearty suggestion that he tell what he knew, du Reims caught the movement of the blade and panicked.
Seeing the flash of the sword from his periphery, du Reims moved to unsheathe his sword, thinking a battle was at hand. The problem was that he wasn’t fast enough to adequately gain his weapon. In cold armor and bogged down by the weight on his body, he simply couldn’t move fast enough.
Atticus, seeing that Summerlin’s companion was going for his weapon, shifted Titus’ sword quickly and went for an immediately disabling move; since du Reims had his back to him, Atticus went for the most crippling and most obvious part of the body. Using the razor-sharp tip of Titus’ sword, Atticus sliced through both of the man’s ankles, at the heels, severing both of the major tendons that controlled the feet and, consequently, the legs. It was one of the weakest parts of any suit of armor and also on the human body, hence the name Achilles’ heel. Tendons severed, du Reims fell like a stone.
But the fight was on. Summerlin, believing that du Reims saw danger that he didn’t, moved to unsheathe his own weapon. As Atticus disabled du Reims, Summerlin brought forth his weapon and moved swiftly away from Atticus, giving himself room to maneuver. The Norfolk men-at-arms, thinking the knights were under attack, began to move but they were subsequently cut down by the archers on the wall and by Kenton, who was still near the gate. In a hail of arrows, the four soldiers went down and their mounts fled. Now, all that was left of the Norfolk party was carnage and one able-bodied knight.
Atticus faced off against Summerlin, who had his broadsword out and was currently on the defensive. The big, blond knight was now in a fight for his life and his previously pleasant manner was gone. Now, there was a deadly gleam in his eye as he beheld his enemy.
“I did not believe you capable of attacking me from behind, de Wolfe,” he said, sword leveled in Atticus’ direction. “I thought you were a man of honor.”
Atticus, too, had his sword defensively postured. “I did not make the first move,” he said evenly. “Your knight did.”
“He would not have acted without cause.”
“Mayhap not, but in this case, I was not poised to strike.”
Summerlin couldn’t chance taking his eyes off of Atticus to look at du Reims, who was lying on the ground several feet away, grunting in pain. “What did you do to him?”
“He will not be able to walk for quite some time.”
“Then at least let me take him to a physic.”
Atticus shook his head. “Not until I gain the answers I seek,” he said. “Where are de la Londe and de Troiu?”
“I will not tell you that.”
“Then your companion is going to be lying there in pain for quite some time. That was what de la Londe and de Troiu did to my brother, in fact. Left him to die. Those are the men you are protecting.”
Summerlin’s jaw ticked. “I was told your brother attacked them.”
“He did not.”
“You do not know that. You were not there.”
“My brother told me the truth.”
Summerlin grunted in frustration. “So you would let a fellow knight linger in pain because you want answers to a question I will not give?” he said angrily. “What kind of man are you, de Wolfe? I see nothing honorable in this behavior.”
That set Atticus off. He unexpectedly charged Summerlin, delivering several vicious blows against the heavily-armored knight who was slowed down by the fact he was laden with freezing armor that weighed a great deal. Atticus, with no protection, moved faster and lighter, and within the first few rapid-fire blows, had Summerlin overwhelmed. It was quite clear that Atticus was the superior fighter. As Summerlin staggered back from the heavy thrusts, Atticus leapt up into the air, lashed out a booted foot, and caught Summerlin squarely in the chest. Off-balance, and unable to catch himself, the knight toppled heavily onto his back.
But the fight wasn’t over. Even with Summerlin down, Atticus went on the offensive, chopping at him, catching him in the hand and on the back where the seams of the armor were weak. Blood spattered from cuts onto the hard, dead ground. When Summerlin tried to rise, Atticus kicked him in the head and sent him crashing to the frozen earth. Half-conscious, Summerlin still struggled to get up and defend himself but Atticus stepped on his right wrist, so hard that Summerlin heard bones crack before he let go of the sword he was still trying to grip. Atticus reached down and yanked the sword from the man’s grasp, tossing it several feet away. Shoving a knee into Summerlin’s neck, he grabbed the man by the hair and lifted his head.
“Now,” he growled. “Tell me what I want to know or there will be two knights lying in pain upon these frozen moors. Where are de la Londe and de Troiu? My patience wears thin, Summerlin.”
In pain, and at a distinct disadvantage, Summerlin struggled between the innate sense of self-preservation and the unwillingness to divulge Norfolk’s information.
“This is not what honorable men do,” he breathed. “They do not cheat in battle.”
Atticus yanked his hair, snarling in his ear. “Do not speak to me of honor when you serve a man who paid knights to betray their friends,” he said. “Norfolk solicited Northumberland knights to betray their comrades. When my brother did not agree to their terms, they killed him. The men you are trying to protect killed my honorable brother because he would not betray his fellow knights. He would not betray me. I know Norfolk wants me worst of all; by all that is holy, I know it. So do not speak to me of honorable behavior when the very man you serve is a snake in the grass, seeking out the next victims of his deceit and treachery.”
Summerlin didn’t want to concede Atticus’ point but he knew there was truth to it. Norfolk continued to work in secrecy and deceit in order to gain men for Edward’s cause. He’d known before Towton that Norfolk had secretly solicited support from de la Londe and de Troiu, so everything Atticus said was true. He grunted as Atticus’ knee grinded into his neck.
“If I tell you where they are, Norfolk will know I have spoken,” he said. “I… I have a wife and a young son at Arundel Castle. If I betray Norfolk, they will suffer.”
“He will not know you have given me any information unless you tell him.”
“There is no one else to tell you but me. He will know.”
Atticus continued to press his knee into Summerlin’s neck for a few moments longer before abruptly releasing the man. As Summerlin collapsed onto the ground, unarmed and battered, Atticus stood a few feet away.
“Summerlin,” he said, “as I see this situation, you have little choice in the matter. Either you tell me what I want to know, or I will lock you up in the vault of Wolfe’s Lair and you will never see your wife and child again.”
Summerlin pushed himself up on his bloodied hands, rolling onto his side and eventually into a sitting position. His ears were still ringing from Atticus’ kick to the head and he struggled to shake off the bells.
“If you lock me up in the vault of Wolfe’s Lair, my army encamped over the hill will eventually come looking for me,” he said. “They will lay siege to Wolfe’s Lair. Are you prepared to withstand an extended siege?”
“If they lay siege, I will throw your dead body over the wall onto them.”
“Then you will never learn the answers you seek.”
“Then tell me what I want to know and I wi
ll be merciful.”
They were at a stalemate. Summerlin had no doubt that Atticus would do as he said he would and he didn’t particularly want to be locked up in a freezing vault or thrown over the fortress wall. He was at a distinct disadvantage with no choice in the matter as he saw it; he wanted to live to see his wife and son again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain his survival instinct to Norfolk, but he would think of something. He had no other alternative. With a heavy sigh, he looked up at Atticus.
“Do I have your word that you will release me?” he asked.
“If you tell me everything you know about de la Londe and de Troiu, I will show mercy.”
“Do I have your vow?”
“I told you I would. That is good enough for you.”
Summerlin wriggled his eyebrows; it would have to suffice. He glanced over his shoulder at the massive edifice of Wolfe’s Lair, wondering what had become of his brother-in-law. He’d hoped to have an ally in Warenne but it was evident that he had been abandoned. He scratched his head with a bloodied hand.
“The last I heard, the knights you seek were heading for Wellesbourne Castle,” he said, defeat in his tone. “Norfolk sent them there to try and elicit a promise of fealty from the older Wellesbourne. Since the younger Wellesbourne serves Northumberland, Norfolk would try to sway the father with the hope that if the father swears fealty to Edward then the son will follow.”
Atticus was quite interested in what he had to say. “Andrew Wellesbourne?” he clarified. “Norfolk is trying to gain the man’s vow?”
Summerlin nodded. “I swear to you on my oath as a knight that my last information on the whereabouts of de la Londe and de Troiu are Wellesbourne Castle,” he said. “I do not know if they are still there. I was sent north by Norfolk to submit his proposal to you and your father, which I have done. That is all I know.”
Atticus was genuinely perplexed. “So he would try to gain Adam Wellesbourne’s fealty through the man’s father?”
“It would seem so.”
Atticus pondered that information, turning to Kenton, who was standing over near the gates with the empty crossbow in his hand. He waved Kenton over. As the big knight came near, Atticus relayed to him what Summerlin had told him and Kenton was clearly just as bewildered as Atticus was. In fact, the usually stone-faced knight sneered as he mulled over what he’d been told.
“What would make Norfolk so determined to destroy Northumberland’s knight corps?” he asked, more of a musing than an actual question. “There are several battle lords that are loyal to Henry, so why single out Northumberland? What purpose could he have?”
Atticus turned to look at Summerlin, who by this time had his attention on du Reims. The knight with the severed tendons had managed to roll himself into a sitting position also, but he was essentially crippled after Atticus’ attack. Atticus spoke loudly to gain Summerlin’s attention.
“Why does Norfolk want so badly to destroy Northumberland’s knights?” he asked him.
“I know.”
The voice came not from Summerlin but from the gates of Wolfe’s Lair. Atticus, Kenton, and even Summerlin turned to see Solomon lumbering from the gates. The man was moving slowly and painfully, as he usually did in the morning with the disease that caused his joints to ache and swell. Atticus went to his father to help the man.
“What are you doing here, Papa?” he asked, grasping his father by the arm. “I have handled the situation. Go back inside and go to bed. I will come in when this has all been settled.”
Solomon waved him off. “Nay,” he grumbled. “I must speak now. I heard your question. It seems to me that I know why Norfolk is intent to destroy Northumberland’s ranks.”
Atticus was puzzled. “How would you know this?”
Solomon fixed on his youngest son. “Because three years ago, when Henry was upon the throne, Norfolk was still a supporter of the king, as were we,” he said. “The man sent me a missive at that time – he wanted Titus for his youngest daughter in marriage but I refused. Titus had already been pledge to the de Shera heiress so Norfolk wanted you instead. Again, I refused. I told him that my sons were not meant for de Mowbray stock. I am sure he was insulted because I never heard from him again. Dear God… that may be why Titus was approached first. Norfolk was still trying to bring him into his fold and killed him when he refused.”
Atticus was somewhat horrified by the revelation. “Why did you not tell us of this?” he demanded, although it was without force. “We knew nothing of Norfolk’s overtures to wed Titus or me to his daughter.”
Solomon shrugged, suddenly looking very old and very weary. “There was no reason to tell you,” he said. “Besides, you were away serving Northumberland and I rarely saw you as it was. Why waste breath on talk of Norfolk? It certainly did not seem worth mentioning until now.”
Atticus didn’t press his father but what the man told him was certainly food for thought. It would explain Norfolk’s obsessive behavior when it came to the destruction of Henry Percy’s stable of knights. There was a great deal of odd dealings but nothing distracted from the fact that now, Atticus had his answer. Wellesbourne Castle. Now, he knew his next destination. He looked over his shoulder to Kenton, who was still standing over by Summerlin and du Reims.
“Keep du Reims and send Summerlin back,” he told him. “We will keep du Reims as insurance that Norfolk’s army will not attack Wolfe’s Lair. If they do, I will do to du Reims what I threatened to do to Summerlin – throw his dead body over the wall and onto his men. Make sure Summerlin understands this.”
Kenton nodded, turning to Summerlin, who had heard Atticus’ directive. It was clear that Summerlin realized he should have been shrewder when dealing for his release – he should have included du Reims as well. Nothing was ever mentioned about releasing du Reims. Disgusted with himself, with the situation in general, Summerlin knew he had no room to negotiate. The best he could hope for was de Wolfe’s mercy.
“Will you at least make sure du Reims is tended?” he asked.
Kenton, who was closer to him, grunted. “We are not animals,” he grumbled. “The knight will be well tended.”
Summerlin glanced at his dead soldiers, bleeding out over the frozen earth. “Will you also bury my dead?”
Kenton cocked a dark eyebrow. “I told you that we are not animals,” he said, his voice hard and gritty like shards of steel. “Go back to your men now and return to Norfolk. Tell him that Wolfe’s Lair is still held for Henry and that will not change.”
Weary, and in pain, Summerlin rolled to his feet and stood for a few moments, unsteadily. His head was still swimming from Atticus’ blow. Glancing up to the wall, he caught sight of Warenne near the gatehouse, as he had seen the man when he had first arrived, but he made no move to acknowledge the man. He knew, without a doubt, that they were at odds, and this entire meeting on the frozen moors outside of Wolfe’s Lair had gone very badly for all of them. With no mount and four dead men-at-arms around him, Summerlin began the long trek back to his encampment.
Kenton and Atticus watched the man go. In short order, Kenton ordered several men to collect du Reims and take the man into the fortress, which they did. Solomon followed. Meanwhile, Atticus was still standing with Kenton near the half-open gates, watching Summerlin stagger off into the distance.
“Now what?” Kenton asked Atticus. “Do we ride for Wellesbourne?”
Atticus nodded. “Absolutely,” he said. “We will leave today. Make sure the horses are prepared and that we have adequate supplies. It will take us two or three weeks at best, depending on the weather and how fast we can move, so I intend to start right away.”
Kenton didn’t say what he was thinking; they have probably already moved on. Nay, he didn’t say that at all. He knew that would not be well-met by Atticus so he simply nodded and went about his business. Already, Kenton felt as if the situation were out of their control, especially with Norfolk’s ulterior motive now revealed. Did the man truly want Atticus
in his fold or did he simply want him dead? They would have to be on their guard constantly.
A bad situation was only going to grow worse.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ionian scale in C – Lyrics to Home
home, my sweet, where e’er ye roam,
to home my heart ye come,
The world is a cruel and darkly realm,
but yer hearth will remain yer stead.
—(possibly by) Isobeau de Shera de Wolfe, 15th c.
Isobeau had never seen anything like it in her life.
After hearing the servants fearfully whispering about an envoy from Norfolk at the gates of Wolfe’s Lair, she had wrapped herself up in a heavy, woolen cloak and followed the trail of whispers, nervous servants, and uneasy soldiers to the wall walk of the fortress. She had seen the crowd of men gathered up near the gatehouse and she had seen Atticus and Kenton as they left the compound and went outside the great gates.
It seemed odd, everyone watching what was going on outside of the walls by the gatehouse. Inherently curious, Isobeau mounted the stairs to the wall and had moved among the soldiers for a view of what was happening. Strangely enough, no one questioned her or tried to stop her; they simply moved aside when she came near. That aversion afforded her a very clear view of Atticus’ battle with the enemy knights.
At first, she had been terrified but the more she watched, the more fascinated she became. It had truly been a sight to behold. At first, Atticus seemed to only be speaking with the six men who had ridden to the gates of Wolfe’s Lair but that all changed in a fraction of a second. Where there had once been six men, a hail of arrows left only two, and Atticus has completed a skilled and cunning move to disable one of the remaining knights so that there was only a single healthy man to face him. But that man, too, quickly succumbed to The Lion’s talent as a knight. As Isobeau had watched with shock and awe, Atticus had effectively subdued the second knight so that the man was at his feet, begging for mercy. At least, that was what it looked like.
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