The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Give my regards to Lyle and his daughters,” he said. “And to your wife. I am assuming that Emilie is your wife by now.”

  “She is. And I will tell her that I saw you. She will be pleased to know you are alive and well.”

  Brickley simply nodded his head, moving away from David and giving the man a brief wave of the hand as if to beg his leave. But David called out to him as he walked away.

  “You will come and visit sometime, won’t you?” he said. “I am certain Lyle would like to see you. I can make myself scarce when you come so you won’t have to sit and look at my ugly face across the feasting table.”

  Brickley was still walking, now turning around and walking backwards as he looked at David. He was grinning and trying not to. “You can stay,” he said. “I just won’t look at you.”

  “Fair enough,” he said as Brickley turned around and continued walking away. “Make it soon, will you?”

  Brickley simply lifted a hand and waved at him as if acknowledging the request. David watched the man go, a faint smile on his lips, thinking that he was glad they’d had the conversation. Things weren’t the same between them, and probably never would be, but at least the situation was civil. That was the best he could hope for at this point. But he truly hoped Brickley would come back to Canterbury at some point, at least to visit.

  It was his home, after all.

  Gathering the last of his possessions and putting them on his horse, David had the sergeants gather the Canterbury army as he went to bid farewell to his brother.

  Christopher knew that David wanted to return soon to see his wife, but after everything that had happened and the fact that the brothers hadn’t seen each other in so long, Christopher managed to talk David into accompanying him back to Lioncross Abbey. It would only be a few weeks out of his way, at most, but David wasn’t hard pressed to go along. He knew that Emilie would understand. And he very much wanted to spend time with his brother, the man he thought he’d lost. God was giving him a second chance to strengthen those brotherly ties.

  He didn’t want to miss it.

  He was Lioncross-bound.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Canterbury Castle

  January Year of Our Lord 1195 A.D.

  Everyone was sick again.

  The cold and wintery time of year seemed to breed disease and once again, half of the town was ill with a cough and fever. The town’s physic knew the routine and gathered the sick into the great hall of Canterbury Castle so he could tend everyone all at once. More sick were brought in every hour.

  Emilie was in the hall assisting the physic with the sick, giving them medicine made with horehound to ease their cough or boiled water to ease their thirst. A widowed woman who made wooden fabric fasteners, selling them from her home, brought her entire family in because all five children were feeling so poorly. So was she. As the woman got some much-needed rest, Elise sat with the children over near the hearth and allowed them to play with her wooden people. Elise was usually so protective over the wooden people but it was a sign of her growth that she was actually letting children play with her toys. She had even given a couple of them away.

  Emilie and Nathalie had paused in their duties to watch their little sister share her most prize possessions, which was something that made them both smile. Cid and Roland had taken up station near Elise, and near the hearth, and Roland eventually turned into a pillow for two of the sickly children laying against them. But the dogs were happy, and not lonely anymore, snoring away as the children played around them. It made for a rather heartwarming scene.

  And then there was Nathalie. David took her friend Payn away but she very quickly forgot about the young man when another soldier, young and handsome, began to turn her head. He was well-liked by the sergeants of Canterbury, and he and Nathalie had struck up a rather sweet romance. Payn had vanished from her thoughts over the past three months, much to Lyle’s relief. He therefore encouraged her latest romantic obsession, even if it was a simple foot soldier. Nathalie was much like Emilie had been at that age, liking men and with suitors coming about, so Lyle resigned himself to that fact that he would soon have to find a husband for his middle daughter.

  But he didn’t mind. It could have been worse; he could have been fending her off of Payn, who was in truth her half-brother, so he didn’t mind encouraging her interest with other young men. As for Payn, Lyle had received a missive from David not long ago informing him of the army’s whereabouts, their future plans, and telling him that Payn was a very sharp young man with a good deal of military potential. That was a prideful thing for Lyle, very prideful, and one evening after the girls had gone to sleep and Lillibet was in his bed, he told her of the son they had who was now with David de Lohr in the north fighting at Nottingham Castle.

  Lillibet had wept with joy at the news. Lyle knew, for a fact, that the woman was eager to see her son for the first time. She hadn’t seen him since birth because Lyle had forbidden it. Now, he was coming to think he’d been too hard on the long-suffering Lillibet. Even in these days of growth and maturity for his daughters, Lyle seemed to be growing as well. Family, he realized, was more important than pride or secrets.

  Therefore, on this blustery night, Lyle lingered in the warmth of the keep with thoughts of his son on his mind as the women of the family were in the hall aiding with the sick. All was peaceful within the walls of Canterbury, and the doors were closed to the hall to keep the heat in which meant the ladies didn’t hear the sentries take up the call for the approaching army. Lyle, buried up in his bed chamber behind thick walls, didn’t hear the cry, either.

  Having come all the way from Dartford, which is where they had stopped to rest the previous night, David had pushed his weary army on the last day of the journey all the way home. It had been a very long day, and a ridiculous amount of miles traveled, but he figured the men wanted to get home just as badly as he did, so no one complained.

  Onward they trudged through the cold and muddy roads all day and into the darkness, finally seeing the castle in the distance beneath a bright and silver moon. It had been like a beacon in the darkness, the castle and the enormous cathedral of Canterbury, and the men picked up the pace until they heard the chains of Canterbury’s portcullis lifting for them.

  Then, they started to run, literally, running through the gatehouse and into the bailey beyond, thrilled to be home, and exhausted to the bone. The sergeants bellowed at them, telling them not to run, but they weren’t listening. When David charged beneath the portcullis on his fat white horse, he nearly ran several men over because they weren’t watching where they were going. They were aimlessly, wandering children, happy to have made it back to their place of origin.

  Happy to be back in the fold.

  And none happier than David. He thundered over to the stables where the two young stable boys were there to meet him, holding his horse steady as he wearily dismounted and collected his saddlebags. The horse was foaming, as usual, and the boys pulled the animal along to cool him off before tending him, but no one escaped the foaming lips this time. David had to laugh when, once again, a frothy horse mouth came down on two small dark heads. This time, both boys groaned.

  Jesus, it was good to be home. David was so weary that his legs felt like water but he headed for the keep on quivering legs, heading for Emilie, until he saw Lyle emerging from the keep and heading straight for him. Having been informed of the army’s arrival by a servant, Lyle was glad to see him but told him that Emilie was in the hall because there was more sickness in town this winter and the sick townsfolk had been moved into the hall once again for convenience sake. Exasperated to hear that his pregnant wife was tending the sick, David growled.

  “Why must she tend the ill?” he asked Lyle, although it was more of a rhetorical question born of frustration. “She risks herself and my son by exposing herself to all manner of sickness like that. How long has this been going on?”

  Lyle gave him a very queer expression follow
ed by one of surprise and then sadness. Reaching out, he grasped David by the arm. “Your son…?” he asked, trailing off. “David… she sent you at least two missives that I know of. Did you not get them?”

  David nodded, not particularly paying note to the tone of Lyle’s voice. “I did,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

  Lyle blinked in confusion. He scratched his chin, muttering more to himself than to David. “I thought sure that she told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  Lyle could see, in that instant, that David had no idea that Emilie was no longer pregnant. If he had known, then he certainly would not have made a comment about Emilie jeopardizing the health of his son. Clearing his throat softly, Lyle knew he should not be the one to tell him. He reached up and pulled David’s saddlebags off of his shoulder.

  “Go find Emilie,” he said. “She will tell you.”

  Puzzled, but still unconcerned at this point, David allowed Lyle to take his saddlebags. He watched his liege head for the keep. “When I am finished with Emilie, I have news for you,” he called after him. “I saw Brick, among other things. He was at the siege of Nottingham serving East Anglia.”

  Lyle paused and turned to David. Somehow, he looked very old on this night. Old and weary. But he forced a smile at the mention of Brickley.

  “That is good to know,” he said. “You spoke with him?”

  “I did. I will come in and tell you about it in a moment.”

  Lyle’s gaze lingered on him. His expression was strange, almost sympathetic in nature. “Welcome home, David,” he finally said.

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  Shrugging off Lyle’s seemingly odd behavior, David headed for the great hall as Lyle returned to the keep to put David’s possessions away. As David approached the hall, one of the enormous doors swung open and Lillibet suddenly emerged, seemingly quite interested in the return of the army. She saw David right away and she went to him, her manner nervous and urgent.

  “My lord,” she said respectfully as the spit flew and hit David in the chest. “Lord Lyle told me that you took a young man with you as your squire. His name is Payn. Did he return with you?”

  David nodded, taking a step back from the woman to avoid the smattering of spit. “He did,” he replied. “He is somewhere with the men.”

  “But he made it home?”

  “He did.”

  “Would you be kind enough to point him out to me, my lord?”

  David turned around, looking through the crowd of men now filling the bailey. There was ambient light from torches on the wall, and a few of them at the entry to the keep and entry to the great hall, but it was still difficult to see through the darkness. Impatient to get to his wife, David scoured the gang of men collecting in the bailey, finally coming to the pale head of tall and gangly Payn. He pointed the lad out to Lillibet.

  “There,” he said. “The tall lad with the blond hair. See him near the end of the great hall?”

  Lillibet was straining to see what David was pointing out, finally spying what he was indicating. “That young man?” she asked. “The one with the blonde hair?”

  “That one.”

  She gave her thanks and scurried off. As David watched with curiosity, she went to the young man and a few words were exchanged. He thought he might have even seen an embrace, but he couldn’t really see more than that in the darkness. Lillibet and Payn were surrounded by other soldiers in heavy clothing and all of the fabric and darkness was blending into each other. But he swore that, through the dim light and the bustle, he saw the two of them embrace.

  Yet he didn’t let his attention linger on the pair any longer, for thoughts of his wife again took priority. He was desperate to see her. Turning for the entrance to the great hall, he entered the warm, stuffy room.

  Immediately, he wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air. It smelled as if someone had been burning bodies because the physic was evidently burning herbs that were supposed to help the sick. But to David, it simply stank. Increasingly frustrated that his wife should be subjecting herself to such smells and disease, David pushed through the crowd of sick people, his gaze seeking out Emilie’s blond head.

  In his quest, he saw Elise over near the hearth with her wooden people out of their box, playing with some small children, and he couldn’t help but notice the big dogs were sleeping next to her. It was actually quite a charming sight to see and when Elise saw him, she actually waved at him. Shocked, David waved back. Thinking that perhaps Elise’s brain had been affected by illness, because she had never once waved to him in the entire time he’d known her, he pushed further into the hall. The quest to find Emilie was gaining in urgency.

  The cavernous room was heavy with sick people, coughing and miserable, and David was seriously thinking of berating his wife for risking her health, and the health of their son, even before he greeted her. He was genuinely furious. As he neared the end of the hall, he began to hear Emilie’s voice mingled with Nathalie’s. There was a servant’s entrance back here, and an alcove where food was prepared or stored, and he thought the sounds were coming from there. With hope and relief in his heart, he pushed straight back into the alcove to be rewarded by a most welcome sight.

  Emilie and Nathalie were facing away from him, evidently preparing something on a table against the wall. It seemed to be hot wine or something like it for the sick, to help with their coughs. He could hear Emilie tell Natalie that the physic wanted her to put a goodly measure of clove in the wine along with horehound, and serve it promptly. Nathalie was trying to do just as her sister was telling her, carefully stirring up an earthenware pitcher of something steaming.

  “I have been returned for nearly ten minutes and I am the one who has to come and find you?” he said, watching both women jump and turn to him. “I am deeply hurt, Em. I thought at the very least you would be at the gatehouse to greet me.”

  Only Emilie’s head had turned to look at him; the rest of her was still facing the mixing table for the most part. Nathalie, upon seeing David, fled with the steaming pitcher in her hand without saying a word. That was more of the reaction he was used to from Nathalie and Elise so he didn’t feel quite so disoriented after that. He watched Nathalie run with a grin on his face before returning his attention to his wife. Then, his features softened.

  “Greetings, wife,” he said. “Have you no better greeting for me than to simply stare at me?”

  Emilie was looking at him with an expression between great joy and great sorrow. It was difficult to describe. She was bundled up against the cold in heavy layers, including a heavy woolen robe that was draped over her, with big sleeves meant to be layered upon heavy clothing. It was warm and bulky. Therefore, she was quite covered up, and her belly concealed, when she fully turned to him.

  “Oh… David,” she breathed. “Thank God you have returned.”

  He lifted his eyebrows at her. “That is the only greeting you can give me?” he asked, insulted. “Where are the cries of happiness? Why are you not throwing yourself at me? You may yet do it, but be mindful of my son when you do.”

  She sighed heavily, making her way towards him. Emilie had known this moment would come; she’d been anticipating it for months. Months of knowing she would have to face her husband and tell him of the child they had lost. Still, she had no idea how to tactfully couch the news so it was best she simply come out with the truth, in any format. Tactful or not, he needed to know. It wasn’t as if she could keep it from him, but she was genuinely fearful of his reaction.

  God, she was dreading this.

  “I am so glad you have come home,” she said, reaching out a hand to him which he caught and brought to his lips. His tender kiss to the palm of her hand brought tears to her eyes. “Are you well, my darling?”

  He nodded, kissing her hand again before pulling her against him and kissing her lips tenderly. With the layers of clothing she was wearing and his armor, he couldn’t much feel her body against his, at least not in detail. Not enou
gh to know his precious son was gone.

  “I am well,” he told her, kissing her again. “Jesus, I’ve missed you. Are you well? Is my son well?”

  The tears came then and she struggled to blink them away. “I am well,” she said hoarsely. “But your son… I am so sorry, David, but it was not meant to be this time. Forgive me for not telling you sooner but it was not something I wanted to put in a missive. I did not want you grieving whilst on a battle campaign. I knew you would come home and there would be time for us to grieve our loss together.”

  She watched the light go out of David’s face as she spoke. The blue eyes, which had been glimmering warmly at her, were now a dull echo of what was in his heart. He simply stared at her for a moment, not speaking, clearly trying to absorb what she was saying.

  “The baby?” he finally asked. “What happened to the baby?”

  Emilie put her hands to his face, her soft flesh against his stubble. “He is gone,” she whispered.

  Realization registered at her blunt words and a wave of sorrow washed over David’s face. “Jesus…,” he hissed. “Nay. Tell me it is not true.”

  “It is. I am so sorry, but it is.”

  He swallowed hard, laboring to come to grips with the fact that there would be no son in the spring. He continued to stare at her, a million dreams he had for his boy being shattered in the reflection of his eyes. Emilie gazed up at him sadly, seeing his despair.

  “I did not want to tell you while you were off to battle,” she said quietly. “You were engaging in a joyful reunion with the brother you thought you’d lost. You were with him, fighting side by side with him again. I did not want to ruin that happiness with news that your son was lost. I wanted to tell you in person.”

  His brow furrowed, great anguish on his face. “Did you think you could not tell me?” he asked. “Did… did you truly think my reunion with my brother was more important than you?”