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

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The de Lohr Dynasty: Medieval Legends: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 220

by Kathryn Le Veque


  “Drop your sword or the woman you want to marry dies,” he said flatly. “All of you, drop your swords or she dies. Is that clear?”

  It was a horrific turn of events, one that had the de Lohr allies uncertain and sickened. Certainly, they couldn’t let Henry kill the girl in cold blood but they couldn’t drop their weapons, either. But they weren’t in love with the girl.

  Chad was.

  His sword clattered to the floor.

  “Please, Your Grace,” Chad pleaded. “Do not hurt her. I will stand with you if that is what you wish, but do not hurt her. I beg you.”

  Curtis, seeing that his cousin was willingly conceding, put out a hand to try and stop him. “Chad, nay,” he hissed. Then, he looked at Henry. “Is that what you have become, Your Grace? A murderer of weak women? And this is the man I am expected to swear my fealty to? It is a disgusting prospect.”

  It was a terrible insult to Henry, who only gripped the dagger tighter. Alessandria yelped when the tip poked her tender skin, sending a bright red stream of blood down her neck.

  “I am your king,” Henry hissed. “You de Lohrs have sworn fealty to me in theory but the truth is that you have twisted that fealty to suit your whims over the years. You have all disobeyed me at one time or another, but I will not stand for that any longer. Worcester, if you believe standing against me is what you must do, then I say again that I am your king and for that reason alone, you will support my wishes at all times or I will strip you of everything. I will strip all of you of whatever lands or titles or possessions you have, and that includes de Winter and de Moray as well. Is defending the Lords of Thunder worth losing everything?”

  Curtis cocked his head. “Ask yourself that same question,” he said. “Is your quest to destroy the Lords of Thunder worth losing your most powerful warlords? Because that is what will happen, Henry. You will be the loser in this far more than we will and you know it.”

  He was correct. Henry knew it; they all knew it, but Henry’s sense of pride had him unable to concede the point. His sense of vengeance seemed to reign above all else, even in this instance, and it was difficult for him to realize that what Curtis was saying was true. But with his last wispy shreds of common sense, he began to understand the severity of what was about to happen. He didn’t want to lose de Winter and de Lohr and de Moray; God help him, he didn’t. Was having their loyalty worth more than seeing the House of de Shera destroyed?

  The choice was his.

  “I cannot have open rebellion against me,” Henry finally said. “If you were in my position, you would not have a threat against you, a threat to your rule, and that is what the House of de Shera represents. They are a threat to me and my rule. How can I simply ignore that?”

  “If we promise not to participate in any action against you, will you leave us in peace?”

  The booming voice was not Curtis’. It came from the doorway and, once again, everyone turned with surprise to see three big men standing in the entry. The day was beginning to dawn outside, shades of purple and blue illuminating the silhouettes of three unarmed knights.

  Their appearance was unexpected. Perhaps it was even unwanted. But there was no turning them away, not now.

  The Lords of Thunder had arrived.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius entered the cathedral, without mail and without weapons. They were in simple clothing, tunics and leather breeches, clearly making a statement. In fact, they were attempting to convey that they were not a threat. They were easing into a group of men with weapons, indicating they would not fight. It was a symbolic stance as well as a necessary one.

  They were making a clear statement to Henry.

  However, they were not foolish; entering the cavernous hall and into two groups of heavily-armed men, they paused far enough away so that if the swords began to fly, they wouldn’t get caught in the melee.

  Gallus’ gaze moved over the men standing for him; Curtis, Bose, Davyss and Hugh, Chris, William, and even Chad, although Chad was standing halfway between Curtis and Henry. Then his gaze fell upon Alessandria, in Henry’s grasp with a dagger at her neck and blood on her skin. He sighed faintly.

  “Let her go,” he told Henry. “Let her go and we will speak.”

  Henry was shocked to the bone to see Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius standing not far from him, weaponless. He immediately let go of Alessandria and thrust her towards Chad, who caught her easily. Chad picked her up, sweeping her away from the men with weapons, as Henry turned to de Serreaux.

  “Take them,” he ordered. “They have no weapons. You can easily take them now and we can be done with this.”

  Curtis, Bose, and the others moved swiftly to surround Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius, preparing for the fight to come, but de Serreaux didn’t move a muscle. He simply looked at Henry.

  “I think not, Your Grace,” he said. “They have come under the guise of peace and without weapons. I will not attack men without weapons.”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “What’s this?” he demanded. “Insubordination from you, too?”

  “If being honorable in this situation means insubordination, Your Grace, then I suppose it is the truth.”

  “You have gone mad!”

  De Serreaux’s gaze lingered on him. Then, he moved away from the king and took up station directly in front of Gallus in a completely shocking move. The leader of Henry’s Six was making it clear that he did not agree with the king’s order or even his stance, and there wasn’t one man in the cathedral that wasn’t astonished by the move.

  Henry’s Six were loyal to the death, so in de Serreaux’s move, the obvious statement was there – de Serreaux had spoken of Henry’s madness, of the man’s lust for vengeance, and he had lamented it. He was a man who valued honor above all else and in this case, he’d been given an order that he saw as completely dishonorable. There was nothing more he could do than follow his own heart in the matter.

  He would not obey the command.

  “These are ethical men, Your Grace, and they are attempting to negotiate with you,” de Serreaux said. “I have served you flawlessly for years, Your Grace, and I can honestly say that this is the first time I have seen you forget your honor. Your madness to punish those associated with de Montfort has made you question those around you. You insult all of us with your lack of faith. De Lohr and de Winter have tried to tell you that. They have tried to tell you that this mad vengeance against the House of de Shera is not only unnecessary, it is unhealthy. Look, now; the Earl of Coventry and his brothers have come to discuss peace with you and still you seek to harm them. Is it not better to have their strength behind you rather than destroy it? These are men of great honor, Your Grace; treat them as such and they will treat you with the same. At some point, you must stop the vengeance and begin to trust again.”

  De Serreaux’s words rang out in the cathedral, filling every man there with a sense of truth and justice. Even Chad and Alessandria, standing back in the shadows, were filled with pride for the words spoken and, in Alessandria’s case, a sense of understanding. She was coming to see that Henry, as great as he was, perhaps simply didn’t have a grasp of what normal and good men feel.

  Years of war, of betrayal, had taken their toll on the man. While she should have been angry with him for trying to hurt her, she found that she pitied him. Henry had been a king his entire life; survival, in any form, was all he knew.

  “You are still the captive of de Montfort, still being betrayed and hunted,” Alessandria said, her soft voice causing the men to turn and look at her as she stood back in the shadows. Chad tried to stop her but she waved him off, gently, and stepped forward to address the king. “I thought I could help the situation by surrendering myself to you, Your Grace, but I see that I was wrong. I did not understand that the situation was much more than you simply needing a hostage. Your Grace, I have spent the past two weeks at Isenhall Castle with Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius and their families. These are true and
good men, men that only want to love their wives and children, and live in an England that knows peace and prosperity. I believe we all want to live that way. Can you not see that the men around you do not want to betray you? They understand something you do not, something I did not until only recently – some things are worth fighting and dying for. Love and family are worth fighting and dying for. I have never known that kind of love before. Will you not at least listen to Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius? They are here because they are trying to protect their world, just as you are. You need not fear them. You must listen to them and understand them. Will you not do this, Your Grace?”

  Such true and noble words, spoken by a young lady who had a rather naïve view of the world. But it was a true view. She spoke not from the point of politics or loyalties, but from the heart. Chad, who had initially tried to prevent her from speaking, was very proud of what she had said. He reached out to take her hand, gently pulling her into his embrace, as Henry’s gaze lingered on her dark red head. Something she had said resonated with him…

  You are still a captive of de Montfort.

  Perhaps she was correct. Perhaps he was still being hunted and betrayed, enough to see that kind of fault in the men around him, men who had proven their loyalty to him over the years. It wasn’t a feeling he could easily be rid of, he knew that. But he also knew that men he was viewing as betrayers were not, in fact, turning against him. He had caused that with his own bitterness and paranoia.

  Perhaps there was truth in what the lady said, after all.

  Henry’s focus moved to Gallus.

  “Someone once told me that men cannot change overnight,” he said, glancing at Curtis. “Did you not just tell me that?”

  Curtis nodded vaguely. “I did, Your Grace.”

  Henry’s gaze lingered on Curtis a moment longer before turning to the group, to Alessandria as Chad held her protectively. He was coming to feel foolish and struggling not to. He didn’t want to lose his warlords, his friends, but his need for vengeance was great. Yet, perhaps his need for peace was greater. There was that possibility. He took a long, deep breath before turning to Gallus.

  “You said that you promise to lay down your arms against me,” he said. “Do you mean that?”

  Gallus, who had been looking at his rather astute little cousin, returned his attention to the king. “I do,” he agreed. “My brothers and I have had a long discussion. We all agree that we cannot keep going as we are. Something must change. We are willing to lay down our arms for the time being if you will simply leave us in peace.”

  “And your loyalties?”

  “Give us time, Your Grace. We all want to see a better and stronger England, much as you do.”

  Henry folded his arms, wrinkling his fine tunic. He eyed Curtis, Bose, and the others before speaking. He even eyed de Serreaux. “I must trust you and you must trust me,” he said to Gallus. “How are we to do this when all we have ever done is fight one another?”

  Gallus sensed that, perhaps, he actually had the man’s attention. It was a surprising realization. “I am a man of my word, Your Grace,” he said. Then, he looked to the men around him. His friends. “Men I trust have sworn loyalty to you. That means they must trust you. If they can trust you, then mayhap I can as well.”

  Henry sighed, looking at the collection of men that was no longer poised to fight. He had to admit that he liked them better this way. It was a struggle to force that anger away, to subdue the vengeance that he’d been feeding off of. But he knew that if he didn’t, he would lose everything.

  “If you promise to no longer fight against me, I believe we can come to an equitable arrangement,” he finally said. Then he spoke with irony. “If I do not agree with you, then I can see it will only cause trouble. You have many friends who are willing to defy me in order to support you.”

  Gallus looked to the men around him, men who still had their swords drawn. A wry grin creased his lips. “They are good men, Your Grace,” he said. “They are men I would willingly die for.”

  “As they would evidently die for you.”

  Gallus eyed the king, his men, and the crown soldiers who were now standing around looking rather confused. From the threat of a fight one minute to the discussion of peace the next, they weren’t sure whether to wield a sword or sheathe it. The mood of the conversation was ebbing and flowing, with the king no longer entirely agitated over what was transpiring. In fact, he seemed to be calming a great deal, but a measure of confusion in his expression lingered.

  Truth be told, Gallus was still confused, too. He wasn’t entirely sure this was what he wanted to do or even if it was the right thing to do. He still had his convictions. But his wife, as well as his brothers, has asked that he at least try. For their sakes, he was willing to. He still couldn’t stand the sight of the fair-haired, gangly man several feet away who ruled England, but that didn’t much matter. He had family and friends to think about. Much like Henry, it would be a mess if he didn’t agree to least try.

  “Would you accept Isenhall’s hospitality, then?” he finally asked Henry. “I have some very fine wine from Spain that should keep the conversation flowing nicely.”

  Henry shrugged. “I do not believe I have much of a choice,” he said. Then he pointed at de Serreaux. “Come back to me where you belong. We are going to Isenhall to feast.”

  De Serreaux immediately lowered his sword and went back to Henry’s side, but his dark eyes were glittering with mirth. They all saw it. That caused Curtis to grin, followed by de Moray, as the older men ordered the youngers to lower their swords.

  They were grins of relief and of understanding; understanding a stubborn king who had a difficult time compromising. But he had. Davyss and Hugh, weapons now placed back in sheathes, moved to Henry’s side once more but the king looked at them both with disapproval.

  Still, he didn’t say anything. He was simply glad to have a de Winter by his side again and didn’t much consider Davyss’ recent stance against him a failure of loyalties. Deep down, in the jumble of his convoluted mind, he understood.

  He wished for such loyalty from his friends and men, too. All men did.

  It was an oddly peaceful and quite conclusion to what could have been a battle for the ages. It was better than any of them could have hoped for. As the group began to filter out of the cathedral into the dawn of a new day, Chad and Alessandria remained behind.

  For them, the conclusion had greater meaning. Even though it was a situation that had consumed them for weeks now, in the case of the Lords of Thunder, it was a situation that had been a part of their daily lives for the past several years. Now it was over and there were no dead bodies on the ground. That very fact still had Chad reeling.

  “I would not have believed this entire happening had I not seen it with my own eyes,” he said. “Did you have any idea that Gallus and Max and Ty were coming in behind you like that?”

  Alessandria, still looking a bit shocked, shook her head. “I rode all the way from Isenhall and never saw them,” she said. “If they saw me, they certainly made no attempt to contact me.”

  Chad shook his head, baffled. “Amazing,” he muttered. Then, he squeezed her, still in his grip. “And you; what you did today… were you truly going to turn yourself over to Henry as a hostage? Why would you do such a thing when I worked so hard to keep you from him?’

  She struggled not to feel foolish. “When you said that Henry was coming to Isenhall, I thought you were trying to spare me the real reason,” she said. “I knew he was most assuredly upset because you had taken me away so I thought… I hoped… that if I turned myself over to him, he would no longer be angry and try to raze Isenhall. I was trying to save the lives of the people that I loved, including you.”

  His smile turned gentle. “You love me?”

  She flushed deeply, averting her gaze. “Did you not know that, Chad?” she asked. “You are a brilliant man. Surely you knew.”

  He shook his head, grinning. “Tell me,” he
murmured in that deep, raspy tone she loved so well. He pulled her closer. “Let me hear it in your own voice.”

  Gazing up into his handsome face, Alessandria realized this was the moment she had been waiting for her entire life. Up until a few minutes ago, she was fairly certain she would never have the opportunity to tell him what was in her heart. Since that drunken night they’d spent together when the two of them became one, and she had realized her love for him, she’d never had the opportunity to tell him. Perhaps this was the moment as it was meant to be, telling her of her love for him even as she had just attempted to prove it.

  “I could not let you face Henry if there was any chance I could save you,” she whispered, feeling warm and giddy. “You – and all of your friends and family – have been so very kind to me, Chad. Your father and mother and sister were very kind. Even your knights were kind. Gallus and Tiberius and Maximus and their wives have been gracious and generous. They are my family, Chad – I have never known family in my life, ever. Not with my father or my brother, yet with these strangers – and with you – I have known more love and happiness than I have ever experienced in my life. Of course I love you. I cannot remember when I have not loved you.”

  He stroked her cheek gently, deeply touched by her words. “And you loved enough, and were unselfish enough, to give yourself over to a man who would hold you hostage.”

  She nodded. “If it would save you, I would do it a thousand times over.”

  His smile deepened and he bent down, slanting his lips over hers. It was a kiss of pure magic, of pure joy, and as the sun continued to rise and the sky turned from blues to pinks, Chad held Alessandria against him, cherishing the feel of her in his arms. He would never be without it.

  “Even if you did not tell me that you loved me, your actions have told me so,” he told her, kissing her forehead. “I love you, Aless. I will love you for always and forever, until the sun ceases to rise and the stars fall from the sky. Even then, I will continue to love you. There will be no end to what I feel for you.”

 

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