“My lord,” Gerid du Reims, currently in command of Canterbury’s troops with Maddoc du Bois away on an assignment, was quick to meet his liege. “May I be of service?”
David eyed the man; a powerful knight with uncanny intelligence and piercing black eyes, he was a younger son of the Earl of East Anglia, a local and strong ally to Canterbury. David had known the knight and his family for a very long time and could, therefore, be brutally honest with him.
“I was told there was a royal messenger here,” he said. “Why have you not sent for me? Why did I have to hear it from my valet?”
Gerid cleared his throat softly, trying not to appear too guilty. “I did send for you, my lord.”
“You did not.”
Gerid stood his ground. “Lady Emilie insists that all messages for you must go through her,” he said. “I sent your wife word that a royal messenger has arrived. If she has not yet told you, then you must discuss that with her.”
David’s eyebrows flew up, outraged, but it was the same old story. He really shouldn’t have been upset by it. In his seventieth decade, he was still a fine figure of a man, still powerful and still handsome with his graying blond hair, even if his health had been questionable as of late. The chest infection he’d contracted during the winter still hadn’t gone away completely and his energy had suffered. Even walking out to the gatehouse had him breathing heavily and struggling not to cough, although he pretended he was fine.
“I am in command here,” he said firmly. “Not my wife. She means well but she does not run Canterbury. Am I making myself clear?”
Gerid could see how the man was struggling to breathe. “Aye, my lord.”
David sensed that Gerid didn’t mean a word of it and he scowled at the man before continuing his course of conversation. “Where is the messenger?” he asked. “What news does he bring?”
Gerid sighed heavily. “He brought a missive, my lord,” he said. “I sent it to Lady Emilie so that she could present it to you.”
David rolled his eyes and turned away from Gerid. “Then let us go hear what the king has to tell my wife,” he said. “Come along, du Reims. I want you in the room when I tell my wife that she is no longer in command of Canterbury. If a message comes for me, it will be sent directly to me. She must understand this.”
Gerid took up pace behind the earl. “Aye, my lord.”
“And if she tries to force me into submission, then I expect you to defend me.”
“Aye, my lord.”
David didn’t say anything more, mostly because it was difficult to walk and talk at the same time, given his poor breathing these days. He labored up the stairs to the block-shaped keep and passed through the entry just as his wife was coming out.
Elegant blond Lady Emilie yelped and stumbled back as David reached out to grab her so she wouldn’t fall. Dressed in heavy robes herself, and a heavy woolen scarf wrapped around her head, she looked at her husband accusingly.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “You know that you are not supposed to go outside in this weather. It is too damp for you.”
David’s expression was impatient. “I heard there was a message for me,” he said. “Since you seem to want to keep everything of importance from me, I sought to find it myself.”
Emilie frowned at her stubborn husband. The man had nearly died a few months ago from illness and was only now starting to get better. But he had a long way to go. Lifting her hand out of her robes, she produced the elusive missive.
“I was just bringing it to you,” she said. “If you would have a little patience, it would have come to you directly.”
David pursed his lips irritably and held out his hand. “May I have my missive?”
Emilie put it in his palm. “I have read it,” she said. “I am prepared to ride to Henry at this moment and slap the man across the face.”
David lifted his eyebrows at his normally-docile wife. “Why would you say that?”
Emilie snorted, pointing to the missive. “You shall see,” she said. “Read it.”
Standing in the keep entry, David did. He read it twice. Then, he turned calmly to Gerid. “Go and saddle my horse and my wife’s horse,” he told him. “We are riding to Winchester to slap Henry.”
Gerid fought off a grin. “If you insist, my lord.”
He started to move but Emilie held out a hand. “No need, Gerid,” she said. “Come inside; I think you should be involved in this, too. Let us go into David’s solar and discuss this.”
David was still reading parts of the missive but he began to walk, heading into his lavish solar with the furs on the floor and the great plate on the hearth, displaying the wealth of the de Lohr family. He meandered to his favorite chair, next to the hearth, and sat heavily, his gaze still on the pale yellow missive. When he spoke, there was confusion and disbelief in his tone.
“Henry states that a relative says that Daniel has usurped a local lord and taken over the man’s fortress,” he said. “He says that not only has Daniel taken over the fortress, but that he has also threatened the life of Henry’s relative and has also taken the man’s betrothed. The king therefore demands we do something about our aggressive and outrageous son or he will send crown troops to Shadowmoor Castle in West Yorkshire and clap Daniel in irons.”
Gerid, who had known Daniel for many years, listened to the contents of the missive with mounting disbelief. When David was finished, Gerid’s expression was wrought with confusion. The Daniel he knew would do no such thing.
“Daniel, my lord?” he said. “Daniel de Lohr?”
David held up the missive to the man. “Read it for yourself,” he said as Gerid took the missive. “It would seem that my son has turned into a despot and is ravaging all of West Yorkshire.”
Gerid eyed the man. “Do you believe that, my lord.”
“Not even a little.”
“Then what shall you do, my lord?”
David scratched his chin and turned to his desk where another missive sat, one from his brother that he’d received the previous week. “I am sure this all has to do with what Daniel told my brother,” he said. “Chris’ missive said that Daniel had run into trouble with a local lord who claimed to be Henry’s nephew. Apparently, the man is terrorizing the countryside and it was bad enough that Daniel asked for Chris to send military reinforcements, which he did. They are already heading north. Chris said that he also sent Maddoc with the troops to get to the bottom of what was happening, so whatever is going on, it has reached the ears of Henry.”
“And we know that Henry’s will shall prevail above all,” Emilie put in, grossly unhappy with what was happening. “If this relative of Henry’s pleads his case against Daniel and the king agrees, then it sounds as if my son will be in a good deal of trouble.”
David struggled against a sense of foreboding; the de Lohrs had always been strong supporters of the crown but Henry’s reign, much as his father’s reign, had been contentious at best. There had been times when Christopher as well as David had been on the opposing side of Henry. Therefore, David hoped this wasn’t Henry’s attempt to get back at them for what he considered to be the lack of de Lohr support, but something told him not to rule that out.
“That is possible,” he said quietly.
Emilie wasn’t thrilled with that answer. “I will not allow my son to live out the rest of his life in Henry’s vault, David,” she said pointedly. “If Henry is sending you a missive about Daniel, then it is clear he wants something to be done about it.”
David looked at her. “What would you have me do?”
Emilie frowned. “Send a missive to Daniel and tell him to leave this Shadowmoor,” she said. “He has gotten himself mixed up in something terrible and now Henry is involved. That will only bring Daniel trouble.”
David shook his head. “It will bring Henry trouble,” he clarified. “If you think for one moment I am going to sit back and allow the king to bully and slander my son, then you are mistaken. Chris and I will stand against He
nry in support of Daniel and Henry will be the one to back down. The man is poking a sleeping lion and the lion is about to rise up and slash him, especially if it involves my only son.”
Emilie felt marginally better with David’s declaration but she was still upset. “Then someone must ride for West Yorkshire to tell Daniel that Henry has contacted you about the situation,” she said. “Your brother may be sending men up to assist Daniel, but they cannot know that Henry has been made aware of the situation. They must know.”
David couldn’t disagree with her. “You are correct,” he said. Then, he looked at Gerid. “How would you like to ride to West Yorkshire to see what in the hell my son has gotten himself in to?”
Gerid nodded. “With pleasure, my lord.”
“And take six hundred men with you,” he said. “Leave one of the lesser knights in charge here and send me word once you have spoken to my son and discovered the truth about what is happening at this Shadowmoor. Daniel would no sooner usurp a lord and steal a woman than I would, so something is amiss here. I want to get to the bottom of it.”
Gerid nodded smartly. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “With your permission, I will go about my duties.”
David waved the man off and Gerid handed him back the missive, quitting the solar in a hurry. There was a sense of urgency in the air. When the knight was gone, David looked at the missive again. He was quiet and pensive for a moment while his wife stewed nervously about the situation. When David spoke again, his voice was soft.
“Chris must be sent word also,” he said. “He must know that Henry is involved now. That changes things a bit.”
Emilie sat down in the chair opposite her husband, her dark eyes studying his face. “I am worried,” she murmured. “Daniel has never been foolish but to attract the king’s attention on something, against a relative of Henry’s no less, frightens me. Whatever could he have done?”
David sighed as he stood up, laboriously, and coughed as he moved to the table that held all of the things he needed to administer his earldom and more besides. His brother’s missive lay carelessly on the tabletop alongside quill and ink, phials of sand, and several rolled maps. David set Henry’s missive down.
“Daniel is altruistic in all he does,” he said. “He is a true and noble man. I can only imagine he saw a situation where people needed help and sought to give it. I have confidence that Maddoc and Gerid can handle the situation.”
Emilie stood up. “But we are speaking of Henry, David,” she said softly. “You or your brother should see to this situation personally, at the very least. Or, go to Winchester and assure Henry that the situation with Daniel will be resolved. What happens if Henry grows impatient and sends his army north? Would Henry actually kill my son?”
David looked at her, seeing the worry on her face. “He will not kill him,” he assured her softly, although he wasn’t sure he believed it. “He has asked me to do something about it so I do not think he will act before I have had a chance to resolve the situation.”
Emilie stared at him a moment longer before turning away. But David saw the tears in her eyes as she did; she hadn’t been fast enough to conceal them. He left his table and went to her, putting his arms around her to assure her that all would be well with their only son. She nodded her head, as if agreeing with him, but he knew in his heart that she didn’t agree with him at all. He knew she was terrified.
It was that terror that spurred him into action. David wasn’t entirely sure Henry wouldn’t move on Daniel before he’d had a chance to settle the situation, either, and if some kind of skirmish claimed Daniel’s life, at Henry’s doing, then the blood would spill all over England as the House of de Lohr declared war against the crown. The consequences, should Henry harm Daniel, would be nothing less than catastrophic. David knew that, on some level, Henry knew that as well, but he wasn’t willing to let Daniel suffer this situation alone.
His only son needed him.
Lady Emilie was under the impression that her husband had written a missive to send to his brother about the situation in West Yorkshire, informing the man of Henry’s involvement. What she didn’t know was that David sent the missive to his brother by way of swift messenger while David, Gerid, and eight hundred Canterbury troops headed north the very next day, before dawn, while Emilie was still asleep. When she awoke, it was to a note in her husband’s handwriting, placed upon his pillow, declaring that he had to see to his son’s issues personally and promised he would return to her.
In truth, Emilie wasn’t surprised at the note. For her husband, the sun rose and set on Daniel. He was the man’s pride and joy, his shining star, and she knew that David couldn’t sit back and worry over the man, not while there was still breath left in his body. It was true that he was still not fully recovered from his sickness but Emilie also knew that trying to keep him at Canterbury, while Daniel was in danger, would have been an impossible task.
David had to go to his son.
And all Emilie could do was wait, praying her husband and son were still alive when all was said and done. With Henry involved, she couldn’t be sure of anything.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shadowmoor, ten days later
The banners that the seamstress in Siglesdene had made for Daniel were absolutely spectacular. He’d selected dark blue and gold silk, the de Lohr colors, and the woman had made some beautiful pieces – simple sleeves for the joust poles that would encase them in color, but also three goodly sized banners to hang from the poles as well as a banner that could be flown from a post, announcing Daniel’s arrival to one and all. He was incredibly pleased with the work and paid the woman handsomely for it.
Meanwhile, he’d struck up a bargain with Liselotte – he agreed to pay her very well if she would sew two blue and gold tunics for him, and she did using fabric he had purchased from the seamstress. In fact, her skill at sewing was nearly as good as the seamstress, and Daniel was exceptionally satisfied with it. There had been the added bonus of having her fit him in various stages of completing the garment, and he’d even stolen a kiss or two from her during the process. It had all been great fun.
In fact, the days following the fiasco with Bramley at Siglesdene had been days of peace and happiness. Brynner had been returned to Shadowmoor and buried next to his father in the yard beyond the stable, but neither Liselotte nor Gunnar had grieved for him. The truth was that Gunnar didn’t even really know his own brother and Liselotte had stopped caring about him the moment he confessed to killing their father, so he was buried and forgotten while life at Shadowmoor improved by the day. With Brynner gone and Liselotte effectively in charge, the days were brighter altogether.
More supplies from Netherghyll and from Daniel meant that everyone had enough food to eat. The tiny huts inside the fortress walls that people were living in had been cleaned up and repaired. The smithy and tanner were both earning their keep again and the inhabitants of Shadowmoor began resuming productive lives. There were men who would go out and cut peat from the moors, returning to sell it for cooking fires for a small sack of grain or the promise of a meal. Although there was still hardly any coinage exchange, people were trading, making sure everyone had what they needed, ensuring that they would continue to survive.
They were living again.
But survival wasn’t the only thing going on at Shadowmoor these days; there was some excitement, too. The inhabitants of Shadowmoor all knew about the coming tournament and Daniel had invited everyone to travel to Skipton to watch him compete on behalf of Shadowmoor. It was all rather thrilling for people who hadn’t had any enjoyment for years and as the tournament grew closer, it was all anyone could talk about. Not only was hope filling Shadowmoor these days, but the thrill of competition was, too.
It was especially thrilling for Gunnar. He was the heir of Shadowmoor now, the next generation to oversee the fortress, the last in a long line of Saxon lords, but he didn’t really know it. His sister and Daniel were overseeing the fortress and he was co
ntent being a boy with two goats and four puppies, all of whom he loved dearly. He wouldn’t sleep without the goats, or the dogs, and Liselotte had given up trying to keep the animals out of his chamber, so these days, he slept with all six animals on his small bed. Sometimes the animals would crowd him and he would sleep in odd positions, much to Daniel’s amusement. He thought it was about the funniest, and sweetest, thing he’d ever seen.
But the thrill of the animals aside, Daniel told Gunnar that he could help squire for the coming tournament so Gunnar trained with Daniel on a daily basis. The ward of Shadowmoor was so vast that Daniel set up a training area near the stables, and he and Ares would train daily along the makeshift guides that Daniel and Caston and several soldiers had set up. Caston was at Shadowmoor quite often and he would train with Daniel when he was able. Gunnar watched it all through the eyes of a child who had never seen such a thing, with awe and great wonder. He made an eager if not somewhat clumsy squire, but that was part of his charm.
With the tournament only three days away, Daniel and Caston had begun their training early on this day. They were making practice runs against each other and the entire fortress had turned out to watch. It had been a very long time since knights had been the center of attention at the fortress, so it was quite a spectacle. The smithy had admirably repaired Brighton’s old joust poles and Daniel was impressed with the man’s craftsmanship, thinking that he more than likely had some of the best-crafted joust poles around until he saw Caston’s gleaming steel-tipped poles.
That brought on a fit of jealousy and Daniel tried to mix the poles up so he could more easily steal Caston’s. But Caston was on to him and took fiendish glee in knowing how much Daniel admired his poles. The practice, and the clashing, went on well into the morning.
Liselotte could hear it from her chamber high in the keep. Her window happened to face south, which meant it faced over the kitchen yard and the stables, and she had been listening to Daniel and Caston yell at each other, good-naturedly, all morning. It made her smile to hear Daniel’s voice, the voice of the man she had fallen so deeply in love with. The fears of him breaking her heart were long over. In fact, she couldn’t even remember what there was to fear about Daniel any longer.
The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 185