"Yea, Ian is dead. But before he died, he told me how you poisoned my father and sent your son and this one"—he gave Kennard a kick—"to Harcourt. The rest even the simple mind could unravel. Twas your plan all along to have Wellington and Harcourt for your son and rid yourself of me, all at the same time. But I am here to tell you, Stepmother"—he nearly spat the title—"that I am not so easy to dispose of. I am the rightful lord of my father's land and I shall fight you for it. And when I have won, I shall return here and you will know the extent of my hatred." He nodded at Gunther, who in turn bent and roughly took Kennard by the arm to haul him to his feet.
"Where are you taking him? And what have you done with my son?" she demanded, her voice edged with fear.
"Your son, like you, will pay for all your evil deeds in due course. As for Kennard, the blind follower, he is going to visit the dowager queen. He will be given a chance to redeem himself by telling Her Majesty what truly happened at Harcourt." He motioned for Leta to come to him. "Enjoy your reign over Wellington while you can, Edlyn. In a few days, you will have to rely on your memories of it, for if I have my way, you'll be exiled from England to some barren wasteland with only the clothes on your back." Nodding his head at Gunther, the man took down a small strip of leather hanging on a hook and came to Edlyn.
"What.. . what are you doing?" she shrieked when Gunther took her hands and pulled them in back of her.
"Ensuring that we have the time we need to be far from this place before you sound the alarm," Amery casually explained.
Realizing now that her stepson did not intend to kill her as she had at first thought he would, some of Edlyn's courage returned. "Yea, run, coward," she hissed. "Do as you have always done when there was no one to take your side. If you were half the man Radolf is, you would meet him face to face."
A tawny brow lifted mockingly. "And shall I hold out my hand in friendship while I grip my sword with the other as he did with Lord Alcot? If that is what you call a man, then I shall bend my knee in prayer this night that I am of a different mold." This last was nearly snarled between clenched teeth. Then, with a jerk of his head toward the back entrance to the room, he waited while Gunther unceremoniously deposited Edlyn on the floor, then moved to take Kennard by the arm and shove him outside.
"I'll see you dead for this, Amery," she shouted at his broad back when he turned to leave her. "Just as surely as I poisoned your spineless father!"
Amery's body stiffened with her confession, and he stopped just inside the doorway, the urge to end her life immediately almost more than he could bear. He closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, willing himself to follow through with his plan rather than give her a quicker punishment by lopping off her head with one effortless sWoop of his sword. Nay, to strip her of her titles and property and send her off to live a meager life among lowly serfs would be far more satisfying he told himself. Without glancing back, he pulled the door shut behind him.
* * *
"Thank you, dear friend, for all your help," Amery said with a tender smile as he shook Doane's hand. "And know that before spring has touched the land, the true lord of Wellington will reign here."
"In my heart, 'twas always you I called my lord, Amery," Doane said with a grin. "Now hurry. You must be well on the road before someone finds Edlyn and she sends an army after you."
"You will be safe? No one knows of your part in this?"
"Only Leta, and she goes with you," Doane assured him as he gently nudged Amery out the door of his hut. "My only worry is convincing, you to flee!"
"Then set your mind at ease," Amery responded with a smile, grasping the edges of his mantle in one hand when the wind threatened, to whip it off his shoulders. He paused a moment more, wishing there were time to tell the old man how much he cared, then he turned abruptly and set off through the trees toward the place where they had left their mounts, unaware of the hate-filled eyes watching his every move from the distance.
* * *
Radolf had argued with his cousin earlier over whether to take an array to Burchard Castle or send a spy there first, and Kennard had stormed out of the great hall when Radolf had insisted his idea was better. During a visit to London the day before, they had learned from some of Amery's fellow knights who had marched in the Crusade with him that Amery had struck up a friendship with a man called Gunther and that the two of them could have sought refuge on the Isle of Wight. Since Radolf could not be certain that that was where Amery had taken Jewel, Kennard argued that taking an army to Burchard on such a lengthy trip might be a waste of time as well as dangerous. It would leave Wellington vulnerable if Amery were to decide to attack while they were gone. Kennard had relented slightly when Radolf had reminded him that Ian was probably already there and intending to kill Lady Jewel, but he had countered by reminding Radolf that Ian would have to fight Amery and Gunther and more than likely the entire group of knights living at Burchard before he could get to Lady Jewel. But Radolf would not listen, and when Kennard realized it, he had excused himself to go for a walk outside in the crisp winter air, leaving Radolf alone to brood.
Everything Radolf had done over the years had been to achieve one major goal, and that included having Jewel as his wife. But now one man stood in his way and even his cousin did not want to help. No one would accuse Radolf of anything unjust if he marched on Burchard and killed those who opposed him. Amery was the villain. He had been blamed for what had happened at Harcourt, and when he took Jewel it had confirmed his guilt—in the eyes of the people of England. Couldn't Kennard see that? Or didn't he care? Had he turned against him? Had he, perhaps, felt guilt for his part in it and did he want to atone for his actions? Confused and angry, Radolf decided to confront his cousin, have him explain his stand, then prove to him that his way was best.
He had left the great hall then in search of Kennard and grew even angrier when he could not find him. None of the serfs had seen him, and Radolf decided that perhaps Kennard was in the stables with his destrier as had always been his custom whenever the two of them had had a bitter disagreement. What he found was not what he had hoped for. As soon as he entered the building, he could hear the outraged cries of a woman, and -they sounded horribly familiar. Moving in the direction from which they came, he discovered that the way into the storage room was blocked. Stepping back, he raised the heel of his boot and kicked it against the rickety door, edging it open slightly. A second effort opened it even further, and with the weight of his shoulder against it, he pushed with all his strength and gained entry.
"Mother!" he exclaimed once he saw that her hands were bound behind her. "Who did this?" He knelt down and quickly untied the leather strap.
"Oh, Radolf, I cannot believe it, and I saw it with my own eyes," she wept, clinging to him when he helped her to her feet.
"What?" he shouted, giving her a shake. "What did you see.'
"Your cousin has betrayed you! He met Amery here and together they took Leta from us. Oh, Radolf, I fear they goto London to tell the dowager queen!"
Radolf's eyes narrowed with his rage. "Nay, Mother, 'twas no dream. I suspected and 'tis why I came looking for him."
"He is cunning, Radolf," she warned. "They agreed it should look as though he was unwilling to go and he was bound and gagged in case someone should see them. They dressed as serfs and left only moments ago. If you hurry, you will catch them before they leave our lands. But take many with you, Radolf. Amery did not come alone."
"There is no time," he snarled, turning from her to run from the room.
He had returned to his chambers for his crossbow and helm, haphazardly thrown his fur mantle over his shoulders, and hurried back to the stables for his charger. He had decided that Amery and his men would have left their steeds tied up somewhere where no one would see them and that meant they would have to travel on foot for awhile. Having learned from his mother how his cousin and half brother had left the stables, Radolf had ridden his stallion around in back of the building on the chance th
at he might be able to pick up their trail in the snow. His logic had proved correct, and within minutes Radolf had spotted the group leaving the hut of the old man, Doane. Jerking his destrier around, he had headed through the woods toward a lofty position among the rocks overlooking the road to London, where Amery would not see him and where he would have a clear shot at Kennard.
Tying off his horse, Radolf had walked the rest of the way to the ledge to wait and had settled himself down between two boulders, where it would be impossible for anyone on the road to notice him. Gray clouds had moved in with the promise of more snow, and when Radolf glanced up at the sky overhead, he thought how appropriate the day had become for the kind of dark mission he had undertaken. He loved his cousin, but the man had betrayed him and was a threat to Radolf's happiness. A pained frown creased his brow as he sat there wondering what it was that had poisoned Kennard's mind against him. They had always been like brothers, sharing the same views, the same ideas, the same goals in life. What had happened to him? Was it possible his half brother had gotten to Kennard with a promise of greater rewards if he decided to ride at Amery's side? Amery! Twas always Amery! Even their father had favored him, although Edlyn had tried repeatedly to change that. On the morning of the day Ryland had died, he and Edlyn had had a bitter argument about the man's oldest son. Ryland had informed his wife that even though she might hate him for it, he planned to make amends with Amery the moment Amery returned from the Crusade and would beg his son to live with him again at Wellington Castle. He had even gone so far as to tell his wife that if she disapproved, she was free to leave. As Radolf thought about it now, he remembered questioning his mother's change of heart over the matter, for she had gone from a violent tirade to toasting her husband's health. How ironic he should die at that moment.
The pounding of horses' hooves against the road below took Radolf from his thoughts of the past. He sat up and raised his crossbow to his shoulder even before the riders came into view. Once they had, Radolf's hand trembled with his rage and hatred, for leading the group was the unmistakable figure of his half brother, and for a long moment Radolf aimed his weapon at him, his eyes narrowed and his attention focused on no one else. Then a horse whinnied, bringing him out of his daze, and he blinked. He would have preferred killing Amery here and now, but he wisely decided against it. There were too many riding with him for Radolf to kill them all before they advanced on him, but more important, if he killed Amery, he might never find Jewel, for be was sure Amery's friends would slit her throat in revenge. An evil smile parted his lips. Besides, the kind of justice he had planned for his half brother was more fitting than a quick death.
Shifting to achieve a clearer view of his victim, Radolf waited for the next rider to pass before him, knowing that once Kennard came into sight, he would only have one shot at him and only a second or two to do it. The muscles in his chest tightened with anticipation, though for a brief instant his love for his cousin threatened to send him running. Then he saw him riding with one of Amery's men, bound and gagged just as his mother had said he would be, and his anger at Kennard's betrayal overruled his conscience. Holding the crossbow steady in his hands, he whispered in a moment of weakness, "Forgive me, cousin," and squeezed the trigger.
The arrow whistled breathlessly through the air at a rapid speed and struck Kennard in the neck. He gave a strangled cry as it penetrated his flesh and buried itself in his throat, throwing hint from the stallion and onto the ground. Leta, who rode double with Stafford behind Kennard and Rickward, screamed the instant she saw the leather-tipped arrow protruding from the man's writhing body, and Amery shouted for Stafford to take Leta and get away as quickly as possible, that they would meet further on where it was safe. Each of the others drew their swords, hastily dismounted, and dashed for the cover of trees surrounding them as Stafford's charger thundered down the road away from them.
"It had to have come from up there!" Gunther pointed to the rocks high above them where Radolf had been only a moment before.
"Did anyone see him?" Amery asked, his body pressed against a tree trunk for protection as he glanced back at the man lying in the road. Kennard had stopped jerking and Amery knew he was dead, for he was certain the arrow had crushed the man's windpipe.
"Nay," Gunther said, shaking his head. "But I can guess who did this."
"Yea, 'tis Radolf 's style to hide among rocks or beneath the guise of friendship." Amery's emerald eyes quickly scanned the various nooks and crevices large enough to hide a man.
"Do you think he came alone?"
Amery was about to venture his guess when they heard the distant racing of hooves leading back toward Wellington. Scrambling out from behind a huge oak, he raced through the stand of trees with Rickward and Stafford close on his heels, up the rocky incline to the top of the knoll where he could get a clear view of the single rider galloping away from them. His chest heaving, Amery glared down at the man, certain of his identity without seeing his face.
"There will come a time very soon, half brother, when you cannot run," he vowed. "You and I will meet on even ground with no one to protect you, and I will see you pay for all you've done."
* * *
"Amery, perhaps 'tis best you and I wait while Rickward and Stafford take Leta to the dowager queen," Gunther warned as the party reined their steeds to a halt at the top of the last hill overlooking London.
A light snow had begun to fall from the dismal gray sky overhead and only seemed to add a more somber note to the bleak prospects of convincing Queen Eleanor of Amery's innocence. Kennard was to have solved that problem for him. Now they could only hope Leta's stories would sway Her Majesty, stories based on gossip among the serfs at Wellington and Harcourt. They would also offer an explanation of why Amery had brought the dead body of Radolf's cousin with him, revealing who they speculated had killed him and why. None of it was solid evidence in Amery's favor, but he had little else to offer—except his word of honor.
"Nay, Gunther." He sighed, readjusting his fur mantle over his wide shoulders as he stared up at the huge snowflakes falling all around them. "I cannot spend the rest of my days seeking the shadows. I will face what is to come with my head held high and the truth upon my lips. I have pledged my oath to my king and country, and I must now put my faith in the hands of God." He smiled softly, his green eyes sparkling as he Looked back at Gunther. "And Queen Eleanor."
"She is fair," Gunther admitted. "But know this. If her mind is closed against you for all the lies that have been spread, you will always be welcome at Burchard."
" 'Twill be difficult to do, Gunther." Amery laughed shortly. "For if she decides against me, I will find my head upon the executioner's block."
"Nay," Gunther firmly argued. " 'Twill never happen. I will bring all of Burchard to storm the king's dungeons. Thou shalt not die for something thou didst not do. I will offer my life to Queen Eleanor as proof of my faith in thee!"
Amusement gleamed in the other's eyes. "Thou forgetest, courageous one, 'tis thy name as well as mine that carries a price for the evil done at Harcourt. If my neck feels the blade, so will thine."
Gunther frowned angrily. "You treat this matter lightly, Amery! 'Tis not the court jester with whom you speak."
The humor faded from his eyes, but the smile lingered in the lopsided grin. "Yea, I know. 'Tis simply that I'm tired of fighting, tired of always having to prove myself, always having to earn respect."
"Of whom do you speak, Amery?" Gunther remarked testily. "Look around you—at those who ride with you. Are we here waiting for you to prove' yourself? Have we chosen this task because we don't respect you? Perhaps 'tis / who speak with the clown."
Amery stared at him a moment, then cast his gaze out across the city of London toward the muted golden orb of the sun hidden behind the clouds as it made its descent in the western sky. "Nay. Only a fool."
"Then come, fool," Gunther mocked. "Let us ride to visit the dowager queen and kneel before her to await her judgment."
Clouds of acrid smoke coming from the chimneys in the houses they passed along the way filled the air and burned their nostrils as the party guided their steeds through the streets of the city toward the royal palace. Dim lights shone through the windows and presented a peaceful setting, though it had little effect on the individuals who passed by. Their purpose in being there was extremely important and held the promise of disaster for the knight who led them. Yet none spoke of it, for each in his own way had vowed to right the wrong brought against him.
As they neared the gates of the palace, Amery reined his charger to the back of the group, allowing Rickward to speak with the guard and seek permission for them to enter, telling the man that it was urgent they speak with the dowager queen. Ordered to lay down their arms, all willingly shed their swords, then nudged their steeds through the gateway and dismounted when they were instructed to do so. While a second guard took their horses—with Kennard's body draped over one of them—in the direction of the stables, another guard motioned for them to follow him. With his helm still in place and his face turned away from the man, Amery walked in the center of his group in case the guard should look his way. It was important not to be recognized until after they had entered the palace and Queen Eleanor had been told that someone had requested an audience with her. After they had been shown to a large room with a roaring blaze in the fireplace and told food and drink would be brought to them while they waited, Rickward stopped the guard as he turned to leave and requested that the man tell the dowager queen that Rickward had news of Sir Amery, information that would be of great interest to her. Surprise showed clearly on the guard's face, and before he moved to the door, his suspicious gaze swept them all.
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