So David lay there, absorbing what was to be his life from this point forward. His brother was dead. There would be no more camaraderie, no more laughter, no more fighting side by side in battle. He felt the loss more deeply than anything he had ever felt in his life and it was something that sucked the wind out of him. At least, that was the way he felt – as if everything within him had been drained. Jesus, he hurt. He hurt more than he had ever hurt in his life.
But in that hurt came a decision. For the sake of his soul, he knew he had to leave Canterbury and go to Dustin. The issues started with her and they had to end with her. For his sake, he had to ask forgiveness of the woman because in doing so, he would be asking his brother’s forgiveness as well. He couldn’t go the rest of his life with this horrible guilt of an unresolved argument and although he still believed Dustin bore Burton’s child, the truth was that it didn’t matter now. The baby was a de Lohr and would be treated as Christopher’s offspring, his legacy.
Thinking back to that dark day in December when he’d confronted his brother’s wife over her infidelities, he was willing to admit that he had overstepped his bounds. It wasn’t as if it had been his issue to deal, as if she had shamed him personally, with but he was truly concerned about his brother’s reputation and how Dustin was playing the man for a fool. Perhaps she was; perhaps she wasn’t. But none of that mattered now. It all seemed so silly and childish in hindsight.
For his own peace of mind, he had to seek forgiveness for his actions.
He had to go to Lioncross.
Sighing heavily, he sat up in bed, feeling sluggish and disoriented. There was a fire burning in the hearth, making his room quite warm, and he wondered where Emilie was. He missed her, wanting to see her, wanting to feel some measure of comfort from her. He needed to hear her voice and feel her soft hands in his. In this horrible world of grief he existed in, he needed the comfort only she could bring him. He had to talk to her and tell her of his plans. As he struggled to stand up from the bed, a figure appeared in the chamber door.
“So you are awake,” Brickley said. “I thought I heard you moving around.”
David eyed the man, yawning and scratching his head. “I have not slept a full night in a very long time,” he said. “Odd; I still feel exhausted.”
Brickley leaned against the doorframe. “You have not only slept a full night but a full day as well,” he said. “It is morning on the second day since my return to Canterbury. You have been out for nearly two days.”
David looked at him, mildly surprised. “Jesus,” he hissed. “I suppose I was more exhausted than I realize.”
Brickley watched the man rub sleep from his eyes. “Lyle gave you a potion to make you sleep,” he said. “You were so distraught… he thought it would help you.”
David nodded briefly, understanding that he’d essentially been knocked out. He tried not to look too embarrassed. “I suppose was somewhat hysterical,” he said, sheepish. Then, he looked around. “Where is everyone?”
Brickley came away from the door as David stood up and stumbled out into Lyle’s solar beyond. “Emilie watched over you the night you fell asleep and well into the morning until Lyle took over,” Brickley said. “She slept a little and then was back. She watched over you all night. I came in before sunrise and relieved her. She was quite worried about you; she would not leave you.”
David wasn’t sure how he felt about hearing that from the man he’d essentially stolen Emilie from. But Brickley said it with no emotion. David wasn’t sure, had the situation been reversed, he could have been so unemotional about things.
“She would have done that for any of us,” he said. “She is a compassionate woman.”
Brickley simply nodded, heading towards the entry to Lyle’s solar and sending a servant, who was in the small hall beyond, for some food for David. When he turned around, it was to see David standing next to Lyle’s table, the one that held all of his missives and vellum and maps and ink.
David was just standing there, looking down at the desk, perhaps at the missive that was still there requesting troops to Gowergrove. It was right on the top of everything, that fateful and terrible missive. It seemed to Brickley that the man was still overwhelmed with everything; he simply had the look about him, stunned by the difficult event that life had dealt him.
Brickley cleared his throat softly.
“I would again express my sorrow at your brother’s passing, David,” he said. “I have known you and Chris for many years. We have fought for Richard for that long. We… well, we were friends, once. I am sorry… well, sorry for many things. I just wanted you to know.”
David’s choking, consuming grief was still simmering in his chest but at least he had some control over it today. After his breakdown two days ago, he was able to retain his fragile composure by sheer force of will. It was still a world where his brother was dead and he was still stricken with grief, but there was determination there, too. Focusing on what he had to do, the journey he needed to make to Dustin, helped him fight off the urge to crumble.
He appreciated Brickley’s condolences. Still, he had some questions for the man, a man who had been where his brother was. He hadn’t been able to question him the night he’d been told of Christopher’s death, but now, in the dawn of a new day, he was able to think more clearly.
“You mentioned that you saw my brother at Gowergrove,” he said. “In what context? Was it in battle?”
Brickley thought back to the moments when Christopher de Lohr had crossed his path. “I saw him mostly in passing,” he said. “He was at the head of the command and I was placed under East Anglia’s command. A cousin of yours, I believe. At any rate, I did not see your brother much. But I will tell you this – the battle for Gowergrove is as bad as any battle I have ever seen. The weather coupled with the difficulty in breeching the fortress made for a truly miserable and costly battle. Had it been I, my sense would have been to walk away from it. One castle does not cost a king his crown. But that is simply my opinion; obviously, your brother felt otherwise.”
David stood and listened, visibly subdued. His jaw ticked faintly, agreeing with Brickley on the fact that it had been a costly battle. It had cost England her greatest knight.
“And Anthony de Velt told you of my brother’s passing,” he muttered, more a statement than a question. “Yet you never saw the corpse?”
Brickley shook his head. “I did not,” he said. Then, he hesitated a moment before continuing. “I did hear your name, however. Men wondered where you were when we first arrived at Gowergrove because it was obvious you did not ride with your brother. I did not tell anyone where you were and no one asked. I am quite certain they are frantically looking for you at this moment. The last I heard, Richard was in London but he had planned to go to Lioncross and return your brother’s body.”
David nodded, his movements lethargic and sad. “That would be logical,” he said quietly. “He was quite fond of my brother. I am sure his passing has devastated the king.”
Brickley simply nodded, preventing from speaking when a servant entered the solar with food for David. The kitchen servant set the wooden tray with cheese, bread, cold beef, and warmed wine on the edge of Lyle’s table before fleeing the room. David just looked at the morsels meant for him; he wasn’t hungry in the least.
“I must leave, Brick,” he said, turning away from the table. “I must return to Lioncross. My brother’s wife will need me. My brother had an empire that must now be governed.”
“And you are the most logical one to do it,” Brickley said. “I can only imagine what must be settled in the wake of his death.”
David, too, could only imagine. Christopher had much that depended on him. He went to the hearth and held up his hands to the blaze. “You mentioned that Richard was in London,” he said. “Do you know this for certain?”
Brickley shrugged. “I only know what was constant rumor on the campaign,” he said. “We know that Richard has been returned and that
he is in London, but I cannot confirm that.”
David pondered that a moment. “Then I should go to London and see the king first,” he said. “I am sure the man will want to see me.”
“Who will want to see you?”
Emilie was standing in the doorway of her father’s solar, looking sleepy but alert. She smiled timidly when David looked at her. “A servant came to tell me you were awake,” she said. “You slept a long time. How do you feel?”
David didn’t know why he felt so emotional at the sight of her. Perhaps because he was coming to depend on her for his strength as of late. “I am well,” he told her, holding out a hand to her. “Come to me. Let me see you.”
Emilie’s smile broadened as she went to him, taking his hand and holding it tightly. “I heard you say that someone will want to see you but I did not catch the name,” she said. “Who wants to see you?”
David held both of her hands in his. “Richard,” he said quietly. “He and my brother were great friends. I was telling Brick that Richard will want to see me. I must leave Canterbury, Em. With my brother’s death, there is much for me to see to. Much for me to resolve.”
Her smile faded. “Of course,” she said, although she sounded disappointed. “I understand. When will you leave?”
David squeezed her hands. “Today,” he said. “As soon as I can. Much time has passed since my brother’s death and I am sure a great many people are looking for me. No one knows I have come to Canterbury, or at least, I never told anyone. It is therefore imperative that I go to London and seek Richard. He and I have much to discuss.”
Emilie was trying to pretend that talk of his departure did not upset her. “I am sure you do,” she said. “May I go with you?”
He smiled faintly, touching her cheek. “Nay, sweetheart,” he said. “You will stay here. I am not sure how long or difficult this journey will be and I do not want to subject you to it. I will return as soon as I can, as soon as my brother’s affairs are settled.”
Emilie just looked at him and all of her attempts to be understanding and positive left her. Her disappointment in yet another delay for their wedding was overtaking her.
“I assume we will not be married next week,” she said.
David shook his head. “When I return, I promise.”
“When will that be?”
“I told you that I do not know.”
She didn’t like that answer in the least and as she pulled her hands from David’s grip, Brickley saw that as his cue to leave. In fact, he was going to find Lyle because if David was leaving, Lyle needed to know. But in the interim, David and Emilie needed to settle a few things between them, namely her disappointment. David seemed to do that a lot to her. David noticed that Brickley was slipping out but he didn’t say anything; his focus was on Emilie and the tense mood between them.
“I am sorry, sweet,” he said to her. “I would like to be married next week as much as you would, but I must return to Lioncross and see to my brother’s widow. I must make sure she is taken care of.”
Emilie was deeply upset about the situation, so much so that she wasn’t beyond slinging barbs at him. “The same woman you and your brother fought over?” she pointed out. “The same woman you accused of bearing another man’s child? I do not understand why it is so important to tend to her. Surely your brother had other men about, men who will see to her. Why is she suddenly so important to you?”
David knew she was upset and he really didn’t blame her. “My brother had other men around him, of course, but I am his brother,” he said. “How would it look if I never showed my face to Christopher’s wife after his death? Emilie, listen to me – you know that my brother and I fought. A stupid argument has become the greatest regret of my life. I must return to Lioncross to seek some manner of absolution for it, something to ease this guilt that is eating me alive. The argument started with Dustin and it must end with her. Do you understand that?”
Emilie turned to him. “Aye, I understand,” she said. “But I also understand that you have made it a habit of leaving me. You are back and forth, back and forth, and I always accept you back with open arms. I am not a priority for you, David; I am like a comfortable old cloak that you always know will be there when you need it, waiting and hoping for your attention. Is that fair to me to treat me like that?”
He frowned. “I do not treat you like an old cloak.”
She nodded, frustrated. “You do,” she insisted. “You have never once considered my needs and wants over your own. I know that you must tend to your brother’s affairs and I accept that, but why must you do it before you marry me? Why can you not marry me first and then go? I do not understand why I must be pushed aside again because you have priorities greater than me.”
He was becoming upset now, wracked with more guilt that perhaps she was correct in her assessment of the way he had treated her. His wants had always taken priority over hers, that was very true, but in this case, he was hurt that she couldn’t see that, indeed, his brother’s death was more important than their marriage.
“At the moment, my brother’s death is the most important thing to me,” he said. “I am sorry that you cannot understand that. There is a whole big world outside of these walls of Canterbury, Emilie Hampton, that do not revolve around you. You are not the center of the world. You are the center of my world, however, but right now, but you must step aside for something greater even than you. I must see to my brother’s widow and I am sorry if you cannot accept that.”
She crossed her arms angrily. “She is more important than I am?”
“For the moment, she is.”
It was like a slap to her the face. Emilie didn’t like being usurped in David’s mind, not by anyone, not even the beautiful blond wife of Christopher de Lohr who was now a widow. A widow…. That meant she was free to marry anyone, including her brother-in-law. Is that why David was so eager to return to her? Emilie turned her back on him.
“Go, then,” she said. “But this is the last time I will allow you to push me aside. It is not fair to me and you know it. What happens to our plans, David? You cannot even remain here long enough to marry a woman you profess to love?”
His jaw was ticking unhappily. “Even if I marry you today, I will still leave,” he said. “Why is it so important that you marry me before I go? Are you afraid I will not return so you seek to force me to return by making me marry you now?”
She looked at him, shocked. She was so angry now that she was starting to tremble. “I am more concerned why you refuse to marry me now,” she said. “It would be easy enough to summon the priest. But mayhap you are unsure of me now that your brother’s wife is widowed.”
He just stared at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
She turned away from him again, sickened and full of anguish. “Go if you must,” she said without answering his question. She knew he could figure it out for himself. “But if you do not marry me before you go, do not come back. I will not have you leave me again, only to return when you have nowhere else to go. I will not be a convenience, David. Do you understand me?”
David was infuriated, struggling not to let it show. He didn’t need this kind of grief from her because it sounded spoiled and stubborn to him. He couldn’t believe she would be so petty about him leaving to tend to dead brother’s affairs. Demanding marriage before he left… he wouldn’t be pushed into it. He wasn’t going to let her emotionally manipulate him.
“I will not be threatened,” he said, his voice low. “And I do not have time for your foolishness. I am going whether or not you like it, and I will be back whether or not you like it. We will continue this conversation when I return.”
He moved away from the hearth and toward the entry to his small chamber. Emilie turned to watch him walk away, heading for the door.
“We will not,” she said, turning for the main solar door that led out into the keep entry. “I am finished having this conversation with you. You have made it very clear wi
th your actions that I am not a priority and I will accept that. But I do not have to accept you any longer. Go to Lioncross and wherever else you may go, but do not come back to Canterbury. You will not be welcome.”
Emilie left the solar before he could say anything. The truth was that he wasn’t sure what more to say; he knew she was hurt and he knew she felt as if he considered everyone else first before her. If he thought about it, really thought about it, perhaps there was some truth to that. Perhaps he did simply go about whatever he wished to do, knowing she would be waiting for him. Now, she was making it clear that she would no longer tolerate his gypsy behavior.
Infuriated at Emilie, and grief-stricken about Christopher, David rode from Canterbury that morning before speaking to Lyle on his plans. He simply left and didn’t look back, heading for London in the hopes of meeting up with the king.
This time, Emilie didn’t watch him from the window.
She couldn’t bear to do it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lioncross Castle
April Year of our Lord 1194 A.D.
Before sunset that evening, an approaching army was sighted and Edward knew that it had to be Richard and David. There was no other alternative. With renewed vigor, he ordered the dinner portions doubled and the remaining unoccupied bedchambers prepared. He waited until everything was moving smoothly before seeking Marcus out.
As he suspected, he and Dustin were holed up in Lady Mary’s solar playing a game of Fox and Hounds. Marcus kept her very much to himself, very isolated from the others. Edward could not help the satisfaction that crept into his voice.
“Richard and David are approaching, my lord,” he said evenly. “Mayhap you would like to greet them in the bailey?”
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 149