She had been a weak, indecisive mass of humanity ever since Christopher had “died.” She knew that he was alive and for that, she was somehow made whole again. But the division she had caused made her ashamed of herself, even though she had not knowingly done anything. She truly believed if she left, then all would right itself. There would no longer be any reason to fight if she were gone.
Dustin was intelligent, but she was naive. She believed more with each passing moment that if she were gone, Christopher and Marcus would stop trying to kill each other, and Richard would then stop resenting her. Then, mayhap, someday, she would seek her husband again. Mayhap he would have a chance to clear his mind and decide if she was truly worth the pain she had caused.
She rose unsteadily, eyeing Richard where he sat in the corner. Fighting off the tears, she approached him.
“Sire,” she said softly. “I am….I am not feeling very well. I would retire to my rooms to rest, if I may.”
He gazed at her. “You look tired. Go as you will, my lady. Would you like me to escort you?”
“Nay,” she shook her head quickly. “I am quite able, sire.”
He watched her go, only imagining the toll this turmoil must be causing her. But she was handling herself remarkable well, he thought. She was handling it better than he was, in fact. Yet, in truth, there was nothing else they could do but sit and wait.
*
Christopher and Marcus ripped the chapel apart beam by beam and had, amazingly enough, rendered little damage to each other. Neither man’s strength was waning, feeding off their adrenalin as they fought each other as if either man was Lucifer himself. Strangely, neither man felt hatred, only a sense of duty. They ceased to see each other as Christopher and Marcus and began to view the armored opponent as just that, a faceless enemy. It was the only way to keep the deep, deep emotions from tearing them apart.
Dustin was shaking with nerves and purpose. She had dressed in a thick woolen surcoat and had packed an extra surcoat and items for Christin in a small satchel that could be easily concealed beneath her heavy cloak. She knew what she was planning was hastily thought of, and that it was dangerous for a woman and child to travel alone, but she ignored her common sense. She could fight well and protect both herself and her daughter, and with renewed determination, she went to find Christin.
Sara had the babe in the nursery, playing with her on the floor. Dustin breezed in and snatched her child, dismissing Sara rudely. When the maid left, she quickly dressed Christin in layers of warm clothing and took her back into her own chambers.
Gathering her things and wrapping herself and her daughter in her warm cloak, she left the room without a back glance. She was leaving and she was never coming back.
It had been remarkably easy to slip out of the castle unseen, for the halls were deserted. She could not hear the fighting anymore, but she did not think on it. She had to force her fear and terror from her mind and focus on her task ahead. Urgency filled her as she raced from the keep and into the inner bailey.
Marcus had shown her a tunnel that led through the inner wall to the outer bailey, and she slipped through, ducking when a sentry passed too close. The sun was setting as she dashed, unseen by the hundreds of soldiers to her back, as she raced to another gate and stealthy snuck into the stables.
Hercules snickered softly and she shushed him, setting Christin down while she bridled and saddled the horse. Christin was perfectly happy sitting in the clean straw, sticking pieces in her mouth and smiling sweetly at her mother. Stable boys and grooms passed by the stall on a few occasions, but Dustin was able to prepare the horse undetected. The trick would be, however, taking him out of the stable.
There was a small, arched tunnel that led from the outer wall to the countryside beyond. If she could lead Hercules to it, she was sure he would fit and she could take him out unseen. Otherwise, she would have to go through the front gates, and that would mean meeting up with Edward and the rest of the knights. She had no doubt that whatever excuse she gave them, they would refuse to let her leave. But leave she would, and she finally decided as she cinched the saddle that she would ride to Baron Sedgewick’s in Wiltshire. She could make the journey in three days. She prayed the weather and her courage would hold out.
With Hercules ready, she tied Christin to the front of her with a thick scarf, forming a little cocoon for the babe. Christin cooed and sucked her thumb and Dustin was so thankful she was blessed with a good-natured babe.
Keeping her eyes alert, Dustin led Hercules from his stall and immediately spied the gated tunnel. A few stable boys milled about several stalls down, but for the most part, the stables were deserted. Everyone had gone to see who would be victorious in the fight between Christopher and Marcus, and the diversion worked in her favor.
With a kiss to Christopher and a prayer to God, Dustin led Hercules through the old gate.
Richard lost track of all time sitting, waiting for the victor to come and collect the spoils he had worked so hard for. In fact, he even dozed off and was surprised to awaken to a dark room, knowing that he had slept much longer than he had intended.
A servant entered the room, bearing cheese and wine for the king, and Richard took a big bite of cheese before wondering if Lady Dustin would like some. Still resting, he presumed, he decided not to wake her up. Instead, he wandered out into the corridor to see how the battle was progressing.
A harried-looking servant told him that Lord Christopher and Lord Marcus were still going at it in the opposite end of the castle, and furthermore told him that they had destroyed everything in their path. But they were still remarkably whole, considering the battle had been raging for over four hours. With a sigh, Richard decided to see for himself.
He passed Iris as she descended the stairs and the woman nearly prostrated herself at his feet.
“Beg pardon, my lord king, but is Lady Dustin well? I have not seen her since this morning when she….”
“She is resting in her room,” Richard said, distracted. As he moved past the woman, she stopped him.
“She is not in her room, your grace, and neither is Christin,” Iris told him. “I presumed they were with you.”
He paused and looked at her. “She went up to her room three hours ago, woman. I have not seen her since.”
Iris’ eyes bugged slightly. “Do you suppose… she could not have done something foolish to herself or the child? She was quite distraught with everything that has gone on.”
A light went on in Richard’s eye. A strange gleam, the beginning of an idea. He suddenly knew how to end the battle, at least for the moment. Mayhap it would be enough time to settle the differences less violently. He fleetingly wondered if Lady Dustin had planned something like this all along.
“Have you searched other rooms for her?” he demanded.
“Nay, sire, I have not,” Iris said. “But I shall go this minute and….”
“Nay,” he put out his hand to stop her, his eyes glittering thoughtfully. “Return to her room and see if anything is missing. I shall lead the search for Lady Dustin.”
Iris scooted off and Richard marched away purposefully, heading to the other end of Somerhill where the combatants were fighting. He found them in an area that housed the chapel, with dank cellars and storage rooms that houses phantoms at this time of night. There was very little light and he was surprised that Christopher and Marcus hadn’t hacked themselves to death because of it.
“Cease!” Richard roared from the top of the stairs.
At the bottom of the flight, Marcus was dealing Christopher a heavy blow, but both men came to a jerky halt. Weaving and panting, they faced the king.
“Lady Dustin is missing,” Richard said gravely. “We must search for her now; we have no idea how long she has been gone.”
He made it sound more severe that it was on purpose; he wanted the two stubborn men to think of something other than themselves. Properly distracted, he hoped they would forget about their mortal combat.
>
“Gone? What do you mean gone?” Christopher breathed heavily. “Where could she go?”
Marcus raised his faceplate, his face dripping with perspiration and lined with fatigue. “There are a thousand places to hide in this labyrinth.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “Or a thousand windows to throw oneself from,” he said. “Honestly, you two are the most selfish bastards I have ever seen. Did either of you stop to think how this was affecting her?”
Christopher raised his faceplate, a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. “She wouldn’t do anything so foolish. She must be hiding somewhere.”
“Has anyone checked the north tower? She loved the view of Somerhill from there.” Marcus’ sword was lowered and he was moving for the stairs.
“That’s not all, good lords,” Richard saved the best for last, hoping that would jolt them into action. “Christin is gone, too.”
Christopher froze a moment, as did Marcus. Then, they glanced at each other apprehensively and Richard’s heart soared.
Bravo, Lady Dustin, wherever you are.
*
A search of the entire castle turned up nothing. It was close to midnight and Richard was gravely concerned. He had honestly believed that she would turn up, but it soon became obvious that she was not within the confines of the keep.
Christopher and Marcus were men possessed; searching every inch of the castle with complete disregard of their hatred of one another. It was as Richard had hoped, only the circumstances had grown quite concerning. He had been sure that Lady Dustin had gone to some outlying corner of the castle to weep, but when hours of searching failed to produce her or the babe, he felt guilty that he had even let her out of his sight.
Christopher was the one to discover that Hercules was gone and his heart sank. But that was quickly followed by explosive anger and immediately, he sought out Marcus.
“Her horse is gone,” he boomed, marching up on Richard and Marcus. A massive mailed fist lashed out and caught Marcus right on the jaw, sending the man staggering. Richard put himself once again between the two of them.
“Chris!” the king snapped in warning.
Marcus spun around, his hand on his jaw and charging back toward Christopher, only to be halted by Dud and the king. His eyes were blazing with fury.
“You goddamn bastard, this is all your fault,” Christopher raged. “If you had only kept your bloody hands to yourself, none of this would have happened. You went after Dustin like a dog goes after a bitch in heat.”
“Christopher!” Richard shouted again; he was not in a pleasant position between two huge, huffing men. “Shut your mouth. You are not making this any easier.”
Marcus’ eyes narrowed, ignoring Richard’s command. “To the devil with you,” he seethed. “You never cared for her until I showed interest. I loved her from the start, which is something you failed to do.”
Christopher put his hands out but Edward yanked him back roughly, assisted by Nicholas. They pulled and pushed the two men apart, tension and uneasiness flowing through all of them. It was frightening to think the whole situation was so desperately out of control.
“So she is gone and has taken the babe with her,” Richard said loudly, trying to divert their attentions from each other. “Marcus, this is your land. Where could she have gone?”
Marcus sighed, attempting to control his fury. “I do not know, sire. She was not out of the castle very much. She does not know the terrain well.”
“Is it possible that she is trying to return to Lioncross?” Richard wondered aloud.
Christopher shook off his knights, running his fingers through his hair as he, too, struggled for calm. “As possible as anything else,” he said. “We must search for her immediately.”
“Agreed,” Richard replied quickly. “Assemble your men, baron, and set to the road south. Marcus, gather your troops and send them in search of your land; every nook and hovel. I shall join Christopher on his trek south.”
Orders delivered, there was nothing more to do but carry them out. Making sure Christopher and Marcus kept a distance between them, the men of Richard’s command went quickly to do the king’s bidding.
Christopher was so tired he was nearly ill, but he ignored it. His wife and daughter were missing and he had to find them, no matter what physical toll it took on him. He cursed Dustin under his breath for being so foolish even as his heart twisted with agony. Richard had been right; he and Marcus had been selfish and had given little regard for Dustin’s emotions. Edward had tried to warn him, too, but he had ignored him. The only person to blame for this was him, and he knew it.
His horse saddled, he mounted up with his knights and charged into the bailey just as Marcus and his men were preparing to depart the gates.
Christopher stared across the bailey at Marcus, his guilt overwhelming him. He was a rational man, but he had acted most irrationally and unreasonably, and he was ashamed. He had let his emotions rule him and the results had been less than pleasant. He wondered regretfully if he could ever right the wrongs he had committed, not against Marcus, but against his wife and his king.
The fact also remained that Marcus’ marriage to Dustin was not covert, nor was it betrayal. With Christopher dead, Marcus moved to take his place. Had the situation been reversed, Christopher would have done the same. The only treasonous act, and a grave one at that, was that Marcus had bedded his wife at Windsor. Any other acts, he could forgive, but he doubted he could ever forgive Marcus that.
Slowly, he dismounted his charger and made his way over to Marcus.
Marcus eyed him warily, as he should have. Christopher shot an angry glare to Dud as the man tried to intervene between the two of them, then crooked his finger at Marcus to join him in a private conference.
Marcus did not move. Christopher sighed, unstrapped his sword, and let it fall to the ground. Moving away from the weapon, he raised his hands as if to show Marcus he was unarmed and tried again. With the second beckon, Marcus responded.
“See here, Marcus,” Christopher said wearily. “This has gone too far. Dustin may be in grave danger and I will admit it is because of me. I do not care if you or I die, but I certainly do not want her placed in jeopardy. I will not fight you for her anymore; I just want her to be happy. If it is with you, or with me, I shall allow her to make her own choice. I have put her through too much already and driven her to this. I am finished with this.”
Marcus was harsh, controlled. “That is not fair. You know she will want to go with you.”
“Not necessarily,” Christopher replied. “She may hate me tremendously for all of the pain and grief I have caused her and quite possibly does not want to have anything more to do with me. Her leaving is a good indication of that.”
Marcus looked at him a moment. “All right, then,” he said slowly. “I would agree to those terms.”
“If it is me, no more protesting from you,” Christopher pointed his finger at him. “And if it is you, I shall bow out quietly. You shall never hear from me again.”
Marcus nodded stiffly. “Agreed.”
They parted and went back to their steeds, and Christopher found he was a good deal more fatigued than he had been just moments earlier. It took him a moment to realize that, for the first time in his life, he was putting someone else’s needs before his. He could not make Dustin miserable anymore; whatever would make her happy would make him happy as well. Just as long as she was healthy and safe, it did not matter who she was married to. He was willing to make the sacrifice simply to have her returned.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Dustin, remarkably, wasn’t the least bit tired as Hercules loped along through the darkness of the night. Christin, long since fed and asleep, curled against her mother’s chest.
Dustin knew basically where she was going; she had a good sense of direction and remembered this as the same road she and Marcus had traveled from Lioncross. Wiltshire was more westerly, but she guessed she had another day of traveling before
she could make the directional turn. She would stop and ask someone as she drew closer.
Sherwood Forrest was a dark, scary place, loaded with ghosts and phantoms and bandits. Dustin tried not to think on it as she cantered along the road, not daring to glance into the trees for fear she would see something terrifying. Especially in the dark; it was frightening, but she focused ahead and ignored her superstitions. She was on the northern tip of the massive forest and had at least a day’s travel before she could steer clear of it.
She wondered what had happened back at Somerhill. Her heart tightened with anguish when she thought of the needless deaths that had occurred because of her. Almost since the very first, she had heard of how Christopher had changed and how the once-mighty ring of knights had been driven to fight and quarrel.
Why hadn’t she seen it before? She was a horrible influence, a wicked woman to have divided the mighty as she had. There had been too much pain and destruction going on around her, too much confusion. Mayhap leaving wasn’t the wisest decision, but it was the only thing she could think to do. She had to get away, but her love for Christopher was making her question her decision with every passing mile. To be so close to him and then to be separated again was like a dagger in her gut, but she forced herself to believe it was a necessary choice.
Tears filled her eyes as she loped into the night; tears for her love lost, tears for her future, for herself.
*
Christopher and Richard took the southern road, riding into the night. They knew they were on the right track when one of the scouts identified Hercules’ hoof prints, and they immediately sent word back to Somerhill. Christopher knew that Marcus would catch up to them in a matter of hours and his jealously was fed, but he controlled himself. He wished Marcus would just stay the hell back at his keep, but he knew his former friend would do no such thing.
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 92