But it was too late.
Thoughts about Cassius leaving Edenthorpe reminded her that he had not come to Edenthorpe to stay, but to relay a message. That had been his only in purpose in coming, but that brief visit had turned into something far more than anyone had anticipated. He had ended up fighting a battle and now he was lying here, wounded because of it. Wounded because of his knightly sense of honor and duty. He had spoken of his desire to see his grandmother, and now those plans were in jeopardy because of her grandfather’s selfishness in asking Cassius to stay.
Somehow, it didn’t seem fair.
Dacia loved her grandfather, but even she could see how selfish this had been on his part. He had never considered what Cassius had wanted or why he had ever really come to Edenthorpe in the first place. Cassius had made it clear he had not come to stay, but her grandfather had clearly ignored that.
Now, Cassius was paying the price.
As Dacia sat there and watched him breathe, slowly and heavily, it occurred to her that his family might like to know that he had been wounded. He had mentioned Castle Questing as well as Berwick Castle, so she decided to send them word about his injury.
She thought, perhaps, that they might want to know.
As she sat there and thought on Cassius’ family, Argos suddenly let out a growl. Curious, she looked at the dog just as someone knocked on the door, softly. Rising to her feet, she went to the door and quietly opened it.
Rhori and Bose stood outside, covered in grime and sweat and blood. Their expressions were grim as they looked at Dacia.
“My lady,” Rhori greeted, his voice hoarse from screaming battle commands. “How is Cassius?”
Dacia opened the door so they could come in, but she had her finger to her lips in a gesture of quiet.
“He had lost a great deal of blood by the time he got here,” she said softly. “We removed the arrows and I cleaned and stitched the wounds. It does not look as if anything vital was hit, miraculously, but the wounds were dirty. There was a good deal of debris in them. I removed everything I could see, so I hope it was enough.”
Rhori bent over Cassius, taking a good look at him. “He is sleeping heavily,” he said. “Did you give him something?”
Dacia shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Exhaustion and blood loss will do that. But I will give him something for the pain when he awakens.”
Rhori simply nodded, a lingering glance to his friend before turning away. “You have my thanks for tending him, my lady,” he said. “Cassius is… important to me. He is important to many people.”
Dacia could see how grieved he was. It was actually quite sweet that the man should be so loyal and concerned but, then again, Cassius seemed to bring that out in people. He’d certainly brought it out in her.
“I will do everything in my power, I assure you,” she said. “I will not leave him, not even for a moment. But I was thinking that we should send word to his family. They will want to know about this and if the worst happens and a poison takes hold… his father will want to know, don’t you think?”
Rhori nodded. “I will send word to him immediately,” he said. “And to Castle Questing. You have never seen a family so devoted to one another, my lady. If one suffers, they all suffer. They will want to know.”
“And the king,” Bose said quietly. “We must send word to him also. He must know that Cassius was wounded defending the Duke of Doncaster. It will elevate Cassius in the king’s eyes tremendously for his heroic deeds.”
Dacia thought of her grandfather, who was even now asleep in his bed. He couldn’t have been bothered with remaining vigilant all night while other men were fighting his battle. While he slept, a fine and strong knight had been wounded defending Doncaster’s village. Thinking on that very thing made her quite furious.
Furious enough to act.
“May I ask you to remain with Cassius for just a moment?” she asked the knights. “Just a quick moment is all I ask. I shall return as fast as I can.”
As they both nodded, she fled the chamber, racing up to the floor above where her grandfather’s chamber was. His chamber was literally above Cassius’ bed, taking up the entire floor, and she charged into his chamber without knocking.
The chamber smelled like a man who never bathed, that heady aroma that filled the nostrils and clung like dirt. There was a fire burning low in the cluttered hearth and a bank of candles somewhere near the bed to give the duke some light, for he was up several times a night, peeing in a chamber pot that was never full. He had an old man’s bladder, as he often said.
Dacia marched right up to the bed.
“Grandfather,” she said, reaching out to gently shake the man. “Grandfather, awaken.”
Doncaster stirred a little, groaning, before trying to go back to sleep. Dacia shook him again.
“Grandfather,” she said, more loudly this time. “You must awaken. Something has happened.”
He lay there a moment as if trying to ignore her, but one eye popped open. “What has happened?” he demanded, muffled because half of his face was in the pillow. “Dacia, what do you want?”
Dacia gave him a good shake, so much so that he batted a hand at her, trying to push her away.
“Grandfather, I know you are not a warring man,” she said. “But men have gone to war for you this night while you have slept safe and warm in your bed. You must awaken. Cassius de Wolfe has been wounded.”
That brought a reaction. The duke rolled onto his back before struggling to sit up. “De Wolfe?” he said. “Where is he? What happened?”
Dacia stepped back from the bed as he swung his legs over the side. “He is in the constable’s room,” she said. “I have just spent hours picking debris out of two arrow wounds. He sleeps now, but you must send word to the king that this has happened. It is your duty to tell him that his Lord Protector went to war for you and has been injured. Do you know he was heading home to see his elderly grandmother when all of this happened? And you demanded he stay here and help you with Catesby Hagg. As a man of honor, he did, and now see what it has cost him. He may never get to see his grandmother now and it is your fault.”
Dacia wasn’t in the habit of talking to her grandfather so angrily, but she was genuinely upset about the situation. To Doncaster’s credit, he took it seriously. He rubbed his eyes.
“Is it that bad?” he asked. “Have you sent for Emmeric?”
Dacia nodded. “I have,” she said. “But half the village was burned this night and he may have fled. I do not know where the man is. You cannot sleep while men are injured and your village is in chaos. You must show the men that you are strong and in control, and that you care about them, so get up and do your duty. Send word to the king about Cassius and I will do all I can to ensure the man survives this.”
Doncaster was nodding before she even finished. He stood up, a bit unsteadily, and headed over to the wardrobe where his clothing was kept. “Where is Fulco?” he asked.
Dacia was pleased that the man was at least up and moving. “In the hall the last I saw of him,” she said. “There are many wounded. They will need your encouragement, Grandfather. They have all risked their lives for you this night.”
Doncaster found his breeches, turning to Dacia before pulling them on. “They have,” he said. “But they have sworn their fealty to me. That is why I provide them with food and clothing and a place to stay. I am not an unkind lord, Dacia.”
“I know,” she said, softening her manner a little. “But Cassius… he is not your knight, yet he was injured fighting for you. I feel sorry for him, Grandfather, and also angry. Angry that you kept him here rather than let him go along his journey.”
Doncaster’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. “You like Cassius, don’t you?”
There was no use denying what was probably very apparent. “He has been very kind to me,” she said quietly, turning for the door. “I intend to repay that kindness by nursing him back to health.”
She was nearly
to the door when her grandfather spoke out to her. “I like him, too, CeeCee,” he said quietly. “He is a fine knight from a most powerful family. He would make an excellent duke.”
Dacia didn’t say anything, but she did turn to look at him as she lifted the doorlatch. There was no mistaking the smile on her lips as she left the chamber.
She rather thought so, too.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next day dawned a bright and beautiful morning.
The sky was cloudless and the temperatures warming, as the hint of spring that had been in the air was now transforming into a kiss of summer. It seemed that on a day like this that nothing could touch the languid atmosphere of the land, as if nothing had been amiss the night before, but that was certainly not the truth. All one had to do was look to the great hall and see all of the wounded soldiers who had done battle against the mercenaries the night before.
Amata had decided to leave this morning and return home, considering she wasn’t needed and she no longer wanted to remain. After the scuffle with Edie, she had retreated to her borrowed chamber. She had no intention of helping out with the wounded, especially when it was made clear that she wasn’t wanted, so she went to bed and pulled the covers over her head.
Her selfish heart rendered her incapable of doing anything more.
Now, on this fine morning, she intended to go home and never return. She had sent a servant for the soldiers she had brought with her from Silverdale, and the men had assembled her escort as the sun began to rise. Amata sent another servant to bring her some food so she could eat before she headed home and rather than eat it in her borrowed chamber, she decided to stand in the bailey impatiently as her escort assembled.
She figured that if her soldiers saw her waiting, they might move faster, so it was her intention to rush them along as much as she could. But as she stood in the dewy morning and chewed on the bread that she had been given, she could see the Doncaster soldiers moving about the bailey, men who had fought last night in the village skirmish. In fact, there was a heavy smell of smoke in the air and she heard some of the soldiers say that the fire in the village was still smoldering.
She also heard them say that several of the mercenaries had been killed and those who had remained had realized that the tides were turning against them and fled into the darkness. Nosy as she was, she wandered about in the bailey a little, chewing on her bread and listening to the men speak on the battle of the night before. What she mostly heard was the men who had been there speaking to the men who had not been there, men who had been left behind in case the raid in the village had been a ruse.
There was much to tell on this fine morning.
As Amata finished her bread and pretended not to pay attention to what the soldiers were saying, she heard a great deal. She had heard that the church had remained untouched, as had the northern part of the village. She heard the men speak about the burned out southern section of the village and how the avenue of the smithies had been partially destroyed.
It seemed as if the village of Doncaster had taken a serious beating at the hands of the mercenaries, but the body count of dead mercenaries numbered into the forties and those bodies had been dragged over to the church until something could be done with them. For now, however, the village was quiet and she heard someone mention that they were trying to resume a sense of normalcy on this very morning.
All of the talk about the village made Amata very curious to see it.
In fact, Amata had friends in the village, the same girls who scorned and ostracized Dacia. Amata was understandably concerned for her friends and decided to pass through the town before heading home to see how bad the damage really was. One of her oldest friends was the daughter of the richest merchant in town, a young woman by the name of Eloise Saffron. She hadn’t seen Eloise in quite some time, so she thought today might be a good time to see how her friend was faring after the terrifying night.
It was also quite possible that she was looking for a friendly face, considering she found none of that here at Edenthorpe.
Her escort, spurred on by the sight of their lady pacing around, was ready by the time she finished her bread. She was ready to depart without a word of farewell to anyone and, soon enough, her escort was riding through the gates. Usually, her escort turned south before they reached the gates into Doncaster village but, this time, her escort continued on and entered the berg.
Immediately, Amata could see the damage from the raiders because the avenue of the smithies was directly in front of her, and she could see the damaged and half-burned stalls. The smell of smoke was heavier here and, to the south, she could see plumes of dark smoke still rising, evidence of the fire started last night that continued to burn.
In truth, it was a little eerie to see the village so beaten down. But she could also see that the soldiers had been correct – it looked to her as if the villagers were trying to resume some sense of normalcy and over on the street of the merchants, she could see a few people going about their business.
Eloise’s father had the biggest merchant stall on that avenue and Amata directed her escort to the Saffron stall. She craned her neck to see if it was open and as they drew closer, she could see that the shutters were indeed open for business. Her escort came to a halt just as Eloise herself exited the stall, shaking out a piece of fabric that seemed to be inordinately dusty or dirty.
“Eloise!” Amata called, waving her hand at the women. “Greetings, Eloise!”
Eloise Saffron looked over to the woman calling her name, smiling when she recognized Amata.
“Amata!” she cried happily, running over as Amata climbed from her carriage. “What in the world are you doing here?”
Amata hugged her friend, grateful to be in the presence of someone who wasn’t going to slap her. “I was at Edenthorpe last night and heard about the attack,” she said. “I came to see if you and your family had weathered the storm.”
Eloise’s smile faded. “It was terrible,” she said. “So much fighting and pillaging. My father’s stall didn’t suffer too much because he employs his own soldiers, so they were able to fight off those trying to do damage. But so many others were not so fortunate.”
Amata could believe that, given the damage around her. “And our friends?” she asked. “Beatrix and Ursula and Claudia?”
Eloise pointed down the avenue. “Beatrix and Ursula’s father suffered a great deal of damage,” she said. “You can see that his stall has been torn to shreds.”
“And Claudia?”
Eloise shrugged. “I do not know,” she said. “I have not seen her, though I hear the metal workers’ stalls were all badly damaged. Her father is a goldsmith, so I imagine he was one of the hardest hit. I heard my father say that the attackers last night were stealing the most expensive things they could find.”
Amata shook her head, clucking sadly. “What a terrible thing,” she said. “You must have been horribly frightened.”
Eloise nodded. “I was,” she said. “Thank God it is over. And you? You were at Edenthorpe last night?”
Amata averted her gaze. “I helped tend the wounded,” she said modestly. “You know that they depend on me for such things. I was overseeing the servants as they tended the wounded, but the more badly injured men were referred to me for my care. I did what I could.”
Eloise smiled. “Brave Amata,” she said. “You are always so willing to help and do good.”
Amata lowered her head, appropriately humble. “I do as God asks of me,” she said. “Except… oh, Eloise, it was simply awful!”
Eloise nodded. “I am certain that it was,” she said. “We are very grateful to the Doncaster army for riding to our aid. I saw knights, too. The fighting was very bad.”
In that moment, Amata saw her salvation. The salvation to ease her humiliated soul. She’d been doing this kind of thing for years, spreading lies while making herself look like an angel, which was why no young woman in the village would speak to Dacia. They alm
ost exclusively knew of Dacia through Amata’s lips. But at this moment, Amata saw a perfect opportunity to punish her cousin for being bold enough to stand up to her. For stealing the man she wanted.
Aye, she saw the perfect opportunity.
This was where Dacia was going to pay.
“It was very bad,” she agreed. “But some of the knights were from King Edward’s stable. They were not Doncaster men. And that was why I had to leave Edenthorpe – I am banished, Eloise. Banished by my own cousin.”
Eloise’s brow furrowed. “By Dacia?” she said, incredulous. “What has that terrible girl done to you now?”
It was the sympathetic ear Amata had hoped for. “One of those knights you saw fighting last night,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “This great knight is one of Edward’s knights and he had eyes only for me, but my wicked cousin seduced him.”
Eloise’s eyes widened. “Seduced him?” she gasped. “You mean…?”
Amata nodded firmly. “They kissed right in front of me,” she said. “Or, I should say, Dacia kissed him. And you know Dacia – she spends all of her time seducing her grandfather’s soldiers. She has had more men between her legs that I care to count, all the while telling her grandfather that I am the wicked one. But this knight belonged to me and she knew it, yet she stole him from me anyway. Last night, I saw them retreat into the keep – together!”
Eloise’s mouth opened in astonishment. “Did they –?”
“Of course they did,” Amata said. “He bedded her and that is what she wanted. She did it to steal him away from me. So this morning, I fled. I will never go back to that terrible place where my terrible cousin does such immoral things.”
Eloise patted Amata’s shoulder in sympathy. “Poor Amata,” she said. “Your cousin is despicable in her behavior. If I ever see her again, I shall tell her so!”
WolfeSword: de Wolfe Pack Generations Page 18