“Come, my lady,” he said softly. “Let us see your brother.”
Emelisse nodded and looked up at him, trying very hard to be brave. He’d called her brave, once, and somehow, she didn’t want to disappoint him. She would be brave. But the moment she looked into his sympathetic face, a man she was coming to view as her savior, her features crumpled and she ended up burying her face against his chest.
Shocked, Caius wasn’t sure what to do. With Morgan gone and William now beneath the keep door as those inside labored to open it, he was virtually alone with Emelisse. The woman was seeking comfort, perhaps from him personally because she felt safe with him. He gave her a sense of security, of hope, things she desperately needed at the moment.
It wasn’t as if she had anyone else to turn to.
Throwing caution to the wind, Caius put his arms around her and held her tightly in one of the better moments of his life. She was so sweet and soft and warm.
His heart began to race, just a little.
“Be brave just a while longer, please,” he murmured into the top of her head. “Caspian is waiting.”
She was pressed up against him, burrowing deep as her body shook with sobs. But his soothing words had her pulling away, taking deep breaths to force away the tears. She wiped furiously at her wet face.
“Of course,” she said. “Forgive me. I mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Caius was sorry she’d pulled away, but he was glad at the same time. He’d very much liked the feeling of her in his arms, but he also did not want anyone to think he was sympathetic towards her, considering that he was trying to maintain a mostly neutral position in all of this.
But that was a lie.
He wasn’t neutral at all.
With a grip on her elbow, Caius gently led her to the spot where William was standing just as those inside managed to free the entry door and yank it open. Dust and bits of snow and wood rained down upon them, and Emelisse brushed the debris from her shoulders and from her carefully coifed head. She looked up, seeing the old soldier standing in the entry. As she watched, a worn ladder was lowered from the doorway.
She stepped back as the ladder found its footing at the base of the keep. Caius helped steady the ladder to make sure it did not slip out from underneath whoever might be climbing it, because in this case, it would be Emelisse. When she moved to mount the ladder first, he held her back.
“For safety’s sake, I will enter first,” he said. “Come up after me.”
Emelisse didn’t argue with him. She stood back, watching his big frame mount the ladder and climb lithely to the top. As he came off the ladder, he crouched down next to it and held it steady for her.
“Come along, my lady,” he said.
Emelisse obeyed, taking the rungs of the ladder cautiously because her dress was so long. She was afraid she was going to step on it and end up falling back into the muddy snow. She was just nearing the top when Caius reached out and grasped her, helping her up the last two rungs.
Finally, she was home.
Emelisse took a moment, simply breathing it all in. This was the place where she had spent most of her time, as a child and even as an adult. This was where she had most of her fondest memories and the smell of the keep flooded into her senses, filling her with memories of the family she no longer had. The memories were both beautiful and taunting, causing her to be terribly torn now that she was finally here. This had once been the place of her greatest comfort and now it was the source of her greatest pain.
Pain for everything she had lost.
Her gaze fell on the old soldier and she went to him, forcing a smile as she reached out to touch his arm.
“Harcourt,” she said appreciatively. “I am glad to see that you are well.”
The old man’s eyes crinkled, happy to see his young mistress. “And you, my lady.”
“Where is my brother?”
“In his chamber.”
Taking a deep breath for courage, Emelisse headed towards the spiral stairs that were built into the corner of the keep. One staircase went between all floors and this was the only access. Mounting the stone stairs, her pace slowed the nearer she drew to the top, knowing what would be waiting for her when she got there.
It was like a bad dream she would never awaken from.
The top floor of the keep had two large chambers. Her brother had one and she had the other, the larger chamber of the two. Memories came back to her as she came off the stairwell, seeing the narrow landing that separated the two chambers. As children, she and her brother would fight over why she had the larger chamber. A smile came to her lips as she remembered her brother, quite young, and his determination to confiscate her chamber on behalf of his greedy little heart.
Caspian always thought he should have had the larger of the two since he was not only the male of the family, but the eldest. It had been a source of contention when they were younger, and he had seen the need to try and lay siege to her chamber door many times, but her father would always beat him back.
Funny how she remembered that now.
She found it ironic that the smaller chamber he felt so beneath him had now become his final resting place, and more than likely, that was where he had died. But she could not think about that now. When she was feeling stronger, she would ask for the details of his passing.
But not now.
Now, she simply needed to see him.
Caspian’s chamber was dark and cold. As the old chamber door creaked open, Emelisse felt a chill of despair run through her. It did not seem right to her that her brother should be laying in such a cold and dismal chamber, with the shutters nailed closed against the Winterhold siege. Caspian had always been such a vital man, always so full of life and so full of opinions. To see that vital life ended in such a dark and dreary place simply did not seem fitting.
Emelisse’s gaze moved over the room, seeing the familiar objects and familiar sights. The same old chair was in front of the hearth, and the same old cowhide rug that had been there for many years. But she looked further, into the shadows of the room, and she could see Caspian’s bed. It took her a moment to realize that she was looking at his feet as his body lay upon the straw mattress.
Quietly, she made her way over to the bed.
Emelisse wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, but what she saw wasn’t horrific. Her brother simply looked as if he were sleeping, a peaceful expression upon his ashen face and lips that were a strange shade of blue. The blond hair was the same, as was the neatly trimmed beard he kept. Everything was the same.
Except he was dead.
The tears returned with a vengeance.
“Oh… Caspian,” she murmured, reaching out to touch the stone-cold flesh. “I am so sorry it came to this. I am so sorry that I could not help you. But know that I am well and I intend to stay well. There is so much I want to tell you, so much to say, but it all seems so futile now. But trust me when I say that I will do what needs to be done. I promise I will. God bless you and keep you, my darling Cas.”
With that, she bent over and kissed him on his cold forehead, standing next to the bed and holding his stiff, cold fingers. There wasn’t anything more she could say to him, or anything more she wanted to. She simply wanted to be with him, to think about a future without her father or brother in a world that was very different from the one she’d always imagined.
Everything, and everyone, she knew was gone.
Behind her, Caius and the others stood in the doorway, watching the tragic scene before them. It would seem that Emelisse was the only member of the de Thorington family left, and there was great irony in that. She had been a prize, and she had also been a prisoner, which should have very well been a death sentence. The woman had no way to fight back, yet she was the last of her family to survive.
Weapons or no weapons, she had managed ably.
Emelisse remained by her brother’s side for quite some time, not speaking, but simply standing. Caius and the others continue
d to stand by silently until Caius finally herded everyone out into the dark landing and quietly shut the door, allowing Emelisse some privacy to grieve. Once they were out on the landing, he faced the old Hawkstone soldier.
“How many men are in this keep?” he asked.
The old man was thoughtful. “Thirty-one, my lord,” he said. “I have them all down in the storage vault below.”
“What is their condition?”
“Some are wounded, but not badly. Mostly, they are cold. We’ve no fuel for fires unless we want to burn our stores, and no one wants to do that.”
Caius nodded in agreement. “I will see that fuel and more stores are brought for you,” he said. “You may be here a while.”
The old man looked at him curiously. “You’ve not come to send the Winterhold bastards back where they came from?”
Caius shook his head. “My position, at the moment, is neutral,” he said. “I do not have the authority to send Winterhold back, but I do have the power to ensure you have enough food and fuel to last a while. My squire, William, will see to it. It is a very big task, but he is capable.”
At the mention of his name, William perked up. He realized very quickly that Caius was giving him an order and he was eager to prove himself to the man he was coming to respect a great deal. Upon hearing Caius’ directive, he nodded his head smartly and dashed down the stairwell, on his way to secure wood and provisions for the remainder of the Hawkstone army.
That left Caius standing with the old soldier, waiting patiently for Emelisse to conclude grieving for her brother. His thoughts lingering on Emelisse, Caius looked at the old soldier.
“We will take the body with us,” he said quietly. “I will send the man to Whitchurch to be buried with his mother.”
The old soldier nodded. “What of his father? Is he there, too?”
Caius shook his head. “Rupert de Thorington’s death is more complex at that moment,” he said. “For now, let us worry about Caspian.”
As the old man nodded, the door to the chamber creaked open and Emelisse appeared. She wiped at her eyes before looking up and realizing that everyone was looking at her.
She smiled weakly.
“He is at peace,” she said. “I can see that in his face; he looks peaceful. He’s not looked so peaceful in three years, ever since this madness started, so I am grateful that he finally knows peace. I am just sorry that he had to find death to achieve it.”
Caius thought that was a sad statement, but he understood it. He’d known plenty of men who had only known peace after death.
“We will send his body to Whitchurch to be buried with your mother, if that pleases you,” he said. “I will have my men start on a coffin immediately, though it may be difficult to find wood with which to build it. We may have to be creative.”
“If there are any tables or benches left in the great hall, they may use that,” she said. “And thank you for your foresight. I appreciate it.”
“My pleasure, my lady.”
For a moment, they simply stared at one another, Caius wondering what she was really feeling and Emelisse because she found herself in an unexpected position. The half-hour she’d spent with her brother had been an enlightening one because she’d realized a great many things. It was time to let Caius in on them, too.
She looked at the old soldier.
“How many men are left, Harcourt?” she asked.
“Thirty-one, my lady,” he said, telling her the same thing he’d told Caius. “They are all down in the storage vault.”
“Go down and tell them that I have returned, will you?”
“Aye, my lady.”
As the old man shuffled down the stairs, Emelisse turned her attention to Caius. “It would seem this day has brought about something quite unexpected,” she said. “I am now the heiress of Hawkstone. It belongs to me.”
“It does, my lady.”
“Let us speak privately.”
“If that is your wish.”
Emelisse thought on what she was going to tell him, knowing he would not be pleased with the conclusions she had come to while grieving over her brother. Caius was a reasonable man, and chivalrous, and she appreciated that about him. That, and so many other things.
But she was positive he was not going to like what she had to say.
After a moment, she simply reached out, took him by the hand, and pulled him into what had been her bedchamber since birth. It was a big, well-appointed chamber that was now cold and dark. She shut the door softly before facing him.
“Sir Caius, since Hawkstone now belongs to me, I have decided to remain here, holed up in the keep in my brother’s stead,” she said quietly. “Caspian gave his life to maintain the keep’s integrity. I must take his place and ensure that it does not fall.”
Caius felt as if he’d been duped. He’d followed her into the chamber willingly, perhaps too willingly, but his eagerness had been for naught. Speaking privately had meant she was going to say something outlandish. Emelisse issued an unexpected statement and one Caius was inclined to immediately disagree with.
“Impossible,” he said. “My lady, I understand that you are now the sole heir of Hawkstone, but that does not include closing yourself up with the remnants of your army and starving to death.”
But Emelisse stood her ground. “While I appreciate your concern, the truth is that I must do this,” she said. “I must take up arms in my brother’s stead, my father’s stead. I am the last de Thorington. Hawkstone will not fall while I have breath in my body.”
Caius didn’t want to get into a battle with her. The woman had been through so much that he was genuinely trying to be considerate of her feelings, unusual for a man who had always, and only, considered himself first above all things. He had seen firsthand how emotion and fear and rage had turned her into a wildcat and he didn’t want to see that again, something he suspected would happen if he tried to bodily remove her from the keep.
That only left logic.
“My lady, I am not the great negotiator,” he said. “That is what I named my sword, in fact – Negotiator, because my sword does my reasoning for me. I do not wish to use that instrument with you, however, so we are going to have to resort to a battle of reason. I told you that I do not intend to force you to return to Winterhold and I meant it, but that does not mean I will leave you to rot in the keep with the remainder of the Hawkstone men. We must find a happy medium here because I am not leaving until we do.”
Emelisse sighed faintly. “Truly, my lord, there is nothing to negotiate. I have made my decision. I will not change my mind.”
He cocked his head thoughtfully. “Will you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
“Will you please address me as Caius in private?” he asked. “I feel as if we have moved beyond the formalities of the situation. I feel as if we have become… friends. As a friend, I would be honored if you called me by Caius, or even Cai. I will answer to whatever you call me, Emelisse. If I may call you that as well.”
That brought a smile to her lips. “You may,” she murmured. “Then, as your friend, let me say something. I have told you that I am deeply grateful for your assistance, and I am. You have brought me home and I can never repay you for that kindness. But this is my home and I intend to remain, now more than ever. My father and brother died for it. How would it be for me to shame that sacrifice and abandon it?”
“And how do you think your father and brother would feel, knowing you starved to death because of them?”
She faltered. “It is more than that.”
“Is it?”
She took a few steps towards him. “Do you not understand what it is like to love your home as if it were a member of your family?” she said imploringly. “That is how I love Hawkstone – because it is a member of my family. Relinquishing it would be like surrendering my mother or father. Do you not understand how that feels?”
He paused a moment, thinking. “Not really,” he said. �
��I have not been to the home of my birth for many years. I returned right after I came back from The Levant. I saw my mother and father, but I also saw an older brother who criticized me for having been away so long. Silas was unable to go to The Levant because of an old battle wound that kept him from traveling well. He remained behind to take care of my parents and their property, but he resented me greatly for having gone on to achieve glory. Therefore, in answer to your question, I’ve no particular attachment to Wygate Castle.”
“Where is it?”
“Lincolnshire.”
“Then you have no home?”
“Richmond Castle,” he said firmly. “It belongs to the Crown now, but William Marshal manages it. I have been the garrison commander there for almost fifteen years. Richmond is my home.”
Emelisse could see that Richmond meant something to him. “Then imagine if Richmond had been beaten down and you were the only one left,” she said. “Would you leave it?”
“I would not. But I am a knight. You are not. It is my duty to remain to the last man, but it is not your duty to remain.”
“I must.”
“You cannot hold this castle, Emelisse.”
He tone was soft, deep, yet firm. He was emphasizing the seriousness of the situation, something she, in his opinion, was failing to completely understand. But Emelisse was missing the point, perhaps intentionally – all she heard was her name as it rolled off his lips.
Gentle.
Gazing into the man’s eyes, she began to see him more clearly than she ever had. She had only met him yesterday, but she felt as if she had known him for years. He had been here at the most traumatic time of her life, and he had offered his help and his sympathy. It was true that she thought he was handsome; that was indisputable. But beneath that massive, handsome façade beat the heart of a man with a great capacity to understand.
It was that man she was starting to feel something for.
But she didn’t want to feel something for him. She was afraid that she would start listening to him if emotions were involved. He might change her mind about things. She had never had affection for another man other than her father and brother, so this was new territory for her.
The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 134