The de Lohr Dynasty

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Bose sighed faintly, fearful that he truly wasn’t getting through to Gallus. “What purpose will your stance serve when you are dead?” he asked quietly. “Henry has that power and I do not want to see you or your brothers die, Gallus. I know that Ty’s death would destroy my daughter. England needs the three of you and your patriotic, progressive ideals. Please do not let that end now. Swear fealty to Henry yet keep your ideals. There is a time and place for every fight and, for now, you have lost this fight with Simon’s death. Do not lose your life, too.”

  Gallus could see that Bose was distressed. He felt badly for the old man, put in such a position as he was. Bose was loyal to Henry and always had been, ever since his days as captain of the guard for the young king. Rumor had it that Henry even saved Bose’s life once, so there was a very strong bond there that Gallus would never diminish. He admired such loyalty. But the fact remained that Bose was in a precarious, and emotional, position trying to negotiate for the king with the Lords of Thunder.

  The immovable object had met the mountain. No one was budging.

  Slowly, Gallus stood up, making his way around the table to where Bose was sitting. He didn’t want the table between them for what he had to say. Sitting beside the old knight, he looked into the man’s black eyes.

  “Simon de Montfort the Younger has asked us to continue his father’s rebellion at his side,” he said quietly. “At Evesham, when we saw the turn the battle was taking, the young Simon came to me and begged me not to let his father’s ideals die with him. He is mounting a counterattack to Henry and has asked me to lead it.”

  Bose stared at him for a moment before closing his eyes and shaking his head in a painful gesture of disbelief. “Nay, Gallus,” he hissed, opening his eyes to look at the man. “You must not do this. Simon the Younger doesn’t have the command capability that his father had. He is not the leader his father was.”

  Gallus grasped the old man on the arm. “Nay, he is not,” he said quietly. “But I am. It is my intention to assume Simon’s mantle now that he is gone. Bose, I do not want my children growing up, commanded by a king who is inept at best. I want them to have a say in their country and in their world, in the things that affect them, and I want their voices heard when it comes to the governing good of England. It is every man’s right to have a say in the world that he lives in. We do not follow the king blindly, like sheep. It is my intention to provide my children with the opportunity to help the king rule his kingdom in a fair and just manner.”

  Bose could only stare at the man, feeling sick to his stomach. “You… you cannot be serious, Gallus,” he finally said. “Henry will do to you what he did to Simon – he will kill you. He is the king, for Christ’s sake… do you not understand that his resources and armies are greater than yours? He will crush you if you rebel.”

  Gallus didn’t seem particularly worried. “I could not live with myself if I did not do what my heart tells me to do,” he said. “It is something I must do.”

  Bose’s gaze lingered on Gallus before turning to Maximus and Tiberius, across the table from him. He could see the brothers were united in this and it scared him to death; especially Tiberius. His daughter’s husband was a great and noble man, and he didn’t want to see his head on the top of a pike, cut off by Henry in his vengeance. The mere thought made him feel ill. He couldn’t even look at them anymore.

  “This is what it will come to,” he muttered. “I will return to Henry and tell him that you refuse his offer and then he will order me to lead an army against you. I will refuse, in such case he will send another commander – Davyss de Winter mayhap – to march on you. If given the choice, you know that de Winter will refuse and, in that case, Henry will order Curtis de Lohr to march on you. Curtis will refuse him as well. That means that me and Davyss and Curtis will all be considered enemies of the crown and we will be forced, by virtue of having refused the king, to side with you in this matter whether or not we believe the rightness of what you are doing. Do you understand what you are creating here? This situation isn’t only about you, Gallus. It is about all of us who love you. Do you understand what you will be doing to all of us?”

  Gallus’ expression was tense and he stood up, moving away from Bose, his manner edgy as well as pensive. “I do not ask you to refuse the king when he orders you to lead an army against me,” he said. “That is your choice, Bose. If you chose to refuse him, it will not be because I asked you to.”

  Bose sighed heavily, feeling his age, his exhaustion. “We would refuse because we love you,” he said simply. “We would refuse because we could not lift a sword to kill you as much as you could not lift a sword to kill me. But it will come to that. God help me, it will come to that if you insist on pursuing Simon’s quest. There is little more I can say about it, I fear.”

  Gallus looked at the lowered head of the old man, his friend for a great may years because Bose’s son, Garran, had served Gallus and was a close friend. Garran had gone on home to Bose’s seat in Dorset, taking the de Moray army with him, whilst Bose rode north to Coventry. Frankly, Gallus was glad that Garran hadn’t come. He wasn’t entirely sure he could have refused both Garran and Bose in their pleas to side with Henry.

  “You understand a man’s conviction, Bose,” Gallus finally said. “You are a true and honorable friend for what you have said, and for what you have done for my brothers and me, and please know that it pains me greatly to say what I must. But in this case my brothers and I intend to continue de Montfort’s dreams, up to and including sacrificing our own lives. It is something I feel very strongly about. I hope you can understand that.”

  Bose was feeling defeated and hollow. “What of your cousin?” he asked, his voice dull with sorrow. “What of Aurelius’ sister? If Henry holds her hostage, what do you intend to do?”

  Gallus seemed uncomfortable with the question. He looked at Maximus and Tiberius. It was Maximus who finally shook his head and averted his gaze. Gallus exhaled a long, slow breath, one of great regret.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I cannot and will not let Henry coerce our loyalty by holding a family member hostage. I will lose all credibility if I agree to any kind of exchange or change of loyalties. As much as I regret saying this, I cannot let the life of one person determine the lives of so many, Bose. I am truly sorry. I pray that Chad has been able to save the woman from Henry’s clutches and we do not have to worry about this scenario, for if, in fact, Henry has her, then the situation will not go well in her favor.”

  Bose understood. God help him, he understood all too well. There was honor at stake here and, as Gallus said, his credibility. What man would allow himself to be manipulated with a hostage? A weak man, indeed. Wearily, Bose stood up from the table.

  “You understand that I had to try,” he said, looking at the three brothers. “I could not live with myself if I did not do everything in my power to prevent your fall, or worse – your death. Ty, let me take Douglass back with me to Ravendark Castle. She will be safe at the home where she was born in case Henry decides to raze Isenhall.”

  Tiberius looked at his father-in-law. “She will not go and you know it,” he said quietly. “She is heavily pregnant now, too, and will not travel well. Nay, Bose, she remains here. She is my wife and her place is with me.”

  Bose’s expression tightened. “Are you so selfish that you would see her killed because of your foolish ideals?” he snapped in an uncharacteristic burst. As soon as it left his mouth, he put up his hands to beg forgiveness. “I apologize. I did not mean it. I am simply… weary. It has been a very long few weeks since Evesham and I am simply weary.”

  Tiberius stood up and rounded the table, going to put his arm around Bose’s broad shoulders. “No harm done,” he said, the characteristic twinkle in his eyes. “Come with me. Let us go and see my wife and then you can rest. She is anxious to see you, anyway. I told her to stay away from our conference and she was quite unhappy with me.”

  Bose smiled weakly, making sure to reach out
and touch Gallus on the arm as Tiberius led him from the room. It was a gesture of affection, not lost on Gallus. He watched the old knight go, hearing his boot falls, slow and heavy, as the man took the stairs. When the sounds faded, Gallus turned to Maximus.

  “Are we being stubborn, Max?” he asked. “Are we simply poor losers that refuse to give up the fight because we did not triumph at Evesham? I am having difficulty separating myself from the reality of the situation and the convictions we have fought so long and hard for.”

  Maximus leaned forward on the table, pondering his brother’s question. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “All I know is that I feel like vomiting every time I think of serving Henry. But if we did, it would save our lives and the lives of our children. We have a great many children to think of, Gallus. I do not want our sons punished for the sins of the fathers.”

  Gallus looked at his brother, long and hard. “Nor do I,” he agreed. “But neither do I wish to serve an incompetent king.”

  “Then this matter is not settled as far as I am concerned.”

  Gallus nodded; what Maximus said was the truth. It wasn’t settled in the least. “Let de Moray sleep and we will speak with him more when he is rested,” he said. “Mayhap… mayhap I am simply being too stubborn in all of this. Mayhap Bose has been right all along.”

  Maximus lifted his eyebrows. “It is certainly something to consider,” he said. “But what he said about Aurelius’ sister – do we really allow the girl to come to harm as Henry’s hostage? That is not like you, Gallus. You are concerned for everyone in our family so to consign the girl to her fate as you did sounded cruel.”

  Gallus shrugged. “I will not surrender to Henry because he threatens me with a de Shera hostage,” he said. “But do not fear; we have enough people who side with Henry who could free the girl if it came to that.”

  Maximus was interested. “De Winter?”

  Gallus nodded. “De Winter, de Moray, and even de Lohr,” he said. “The girl will not suffer a terrible fate, of that I am certain. I will rescue her myself if it comes to it. But I will not surrender to Henry based on a bribe. He would never respect me if I did.”

  It was the truth. Perhaps the Lords of Thunder would, indeed, swear fealty to Henry at some point; perhaps they wouldn’t. But if they did, it wouldn’t be because they were forced to.

  It would be of their own doing.

  The de Sheras were stubborn that way.

  “What now, then?” Maximus asked. “Bose said that Henry would send his army after us if we do not agree to swear fealty to him. We lost a good portion of our army at Evesham and if Henry lays siege, I doubt we have enough men and material to fight him off. We need time and reinforcements.”

  Gallus knew that. “I have been thinking of just that fact,” he said. “All thoughts of Aurelius’ sister aside, we do, indeed, need reinforcements and the only person I can think to ask is the same one who covered our rear when we fled Evesham.”

  Maximus lifted his eyebrows. “De Lohr?”

  Gallus nodded. “His father is our grandfather,” he said. “Mayhap if Henry sees the de Lohr army camped around Isenhall, he will think twice before attacking us.”

  Maximus wasn’t so sure. “But Curtis de Lohr is loyal to Henry,” he said. “Covering our retreat from battle is one thing but coming to Isenhall and preparing to fight against Henry is entirely another. Henry will think that the de Lohrs have abandoned him. It is as Bose said; he will think Curtis to be his enemy.”

  Gallus scratched his head. “It is possible,” he said. “But one thing is for certain – if we do not have reinforcements, and Henry truly means to attack us, then what Bose said is correct – he will raze Isenhall and we will all die. I do not wish to see that.”

  “Nor I.”

  They had a massive dilemma on their hands and each brother knew it. It was difficult to realize that they either had to swear fealty to a king they did not respect or face death. They’d known it all along but this was the closest they’d come to admitting it.

  “Bose was right about something else,” Gallus said quietly. “We do have our families to consider.”

  “We do.”

  “Is it our pride standing in the way, then?”

  Gallus shook his head. “I do not know if it is my pride or my conviction that the beliefs Simon held were right and true, above my life and the lives of my family.”

  Maximus raked his fingers through his dark hair. He had come to a conclusion even if his brother had not. “I am willing to risk my own life for my beliefs but not the lives of my wife and children,” he said, standing up from the table. “Send de Lohr a missive and ask if he will reinforce our ranks should Henry come. If he will not, then I send my family to Lioncross for protection. I will not have them here if Henry comes.”

  Gallus understood. “Jeniver and my children will go with them,” he said, sounding defeated for the first time during their conversation. Like it or not, they had to face what was coming. “I am sure Ty will send Douglass and his children as well. That way, when Henry comes, if he comes, it will only be the three of us facing him.”

  Maximus didn’t say anything more. He didn’t have to. Without another word, he quit the chamber, heading upstairs to see to his wife and children. He had a sudden urge to hug them all and never let them go. Gallus let his brother go, the brooding middle brother, as he was lost to thoughts of his own.

  The Coventry earldom had been in his family for two generations; only two. He didn’t want to see it end with him. He had a son to pass it along to, Bhrodi, and he wanted to make sure that happened. His conviction to stand for what he believed in was dwindling with the idea of preserving his lands and titles and fortune for his son and coming generations.

  He prayed to God that he would make the correct choice.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bexley Manor

  Northwest of Rochester

  It was very dark on this night, so dark that Alessandria could hardly see her hand in front of her face. It had been the same way the night before, with the moon rising more towards morning so that the entire night was as black as ink. Not even the blanket of stars above could pierce the veil of darkness very much. It was quiet, dark, and eerie.

  The land smelled of compost, too, that moldering smell when there is heat and moisture, with the leaves rotting on ground. Although Alessandria couldn’t see the tree groves except for black masses against the moonless night, she could certainly smell them. She could imagine the creatures and even spirits out in the darkness that she couldn’t see. The Mother Prioress had told her charges that there were no such things as spirits or phantoms, but Alessandria had seen a ghost, once while she was fostering at Orford, so she believed in such things. She was rather frightened by them.

  But riding with Chad made her feel safe. Having left Canterbury earlier that day at a dead run, there hadn’t been the opportunity for much conversation but Alessandria didn’t much care. She was comforted by his mere presence. As they’d cantered across the land, heading northwest, she’d stolen glances at him now and again. He was such a fine-looking man with an effortless posture as he rode his big, fat-arsed horse. Effortless in that he rode the horse with such ease, holding the reins but seemingly guiding the horse only with pressure from his thighs. That was true horsemanship.

  As they rode along, Alessandria kept reliving their last conversation in which he’d asked to call her Aless. It made her heart thump simply to think on it again. In fact, everything about the man made her heart thump as of late – she had to only look at him to feel her heart begin to race. It was a feeling like she couldn’t even describe – something to do with a lightness of heart and soul, of joy, because the mere thought of him made her smile. No one had made her feel the way Chad did but she was quite certain the feelings were one-sided. A man as great and prestigious as Chad de Lohr could never feel the same way about her; of that, she was certain. But it didn’t stop her from dreaming.

  Dreams that kept he
r occupied until Chad slowed their pace. They entered a small village called Bexleyheath, a sleepy town that, at the late hour, was all bottled up for the night. Alessandria looked around the village with interest, for having been stuck in Newington for all of those years made her very interested in new places. She wanted to ask what Chad’s plans were for the night but it seemed ill-advised to speak since he had been so silent. Perhaps there was a reason he’d not said a word, remaining quiet as they moved through the town.

  Therefore, Alessandria simply followed without saying a word even though she was dying to. It wasn’t so much out of curiosity than it was simply because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice. She did so love the sound of his voice.

  “There is a manor home at the end of this village,” he said, his deep, raspy voice filling the damp night air. “That is where I intend to seek shelter for the night. However, the lord of Bexley Manor is loyal to Henry and I have been wracking my brain trying to determine how I should introduce you. The de Shera name is not welcome amongst Henry’s loyalists these days.”

  Alessandria shrugged. “You certainly do not have to be truthful about my identity, do you?”

  Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But that brings us to another issue – you are an unmarried woman and I am an unmarried man, and we are riding together without a chaperone. That factor alone will probably give you a worse reputation than if I tell them you are a de Shera.”

  “So what will you do?”

  Chad looked over his shoulder, glancing at her. “You may not like it.”

  “You will not know unless you tell me.”

  A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “It would be far easier if I simply introduce you as my wife,” he said. “There will be no questions and certainly no judgment. In the morning, we shall leave and they will be none the wiser.”