It was absolutely heartbreaking.
He desperately wanted to hold her.
Over the bridge, the wagons roared, finally into England. It wasn’t a short ride, by any means, and took a couple of hours to reach their destination south of Berwick. They did slow the pace once they got into England, however, but they still wanted to reach the bulk of the army quickly, purely for safety reasons. They followed the road that curved around, following the bend in the River Tweed, and headed south where the armies had set up an encampment.
What they found when they came into sight of the encampment, however, was more armies than ever before.
Richmond had arrived.
The Richmond Castle garrison was the largest Marshal garrison in the north and there were at least three thousand men, all of them moving to the east towards the mouth of the River Tweed. The fog was lifting, burning off as the sun rose, and the landscape was laid open. The main encampment was visible in the fields to the south, with smoke from dozens of cooking fires spiraling into the air.
Since the pace was slower now and Alexander had called the wagons to a walk for the rest of the way, Cole directed his steed next to Corisande and plucked her right out of the wagon.
They came together in a clash of warmth and fabric, mail and hair. Her hair was all over him as she squeezed him around the neck, so tightly that she was nearly strangling him, but he’d never been so happy to be strangled. It was relief beyond measure for them both. Cole could hear her weeping softly against him and he let go of the reins so he could hold her with both arms. As Drago plodded along, weary from the run to and from Scotland, Cole pulled Corisande away from him so he could get a close look at her.
“Let me see you,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Are you well, love? Did they hurt you?”
Corisande shook her head. “They did not hurt me,” she said. “I am well.”
He was looking her over carefully – her face, her neck, her head – as if he didn’t believe her. He was touching, stroking, to make sure she was real. “Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
He let out a sigh that nearly deflated his entire body. “Thank God,” he muttered. “Cori, I was so terrified that… it does not matter. Thank God you are well. That is all I care about.”
Corisande nodded again, kissing him as he returned her kisses furiously. He was just so grateful that he ended up glancing up to the sky in a silent prayer of thanks as she buried her face in his neck. Finally, she was safe, exactly where he wanted her. But as he held her and gave thanks, he noticed a little, blonde head in the wagon bed.
He found himself looking down at Gaia.
“And you, my lady?” he asked, lifting his voice. “Are you well?”
Gaia had been watching their reunion very carefully, studying every movement, every kiss. There was something wistful in her eyes.
But she nodded her head.
“I am well,” she said. “I am not injured.”
He smiled faintly at her. “That is excellent news,” he said. “God be praised that you are both safe.”
Gaia smiled weakly, watching Cole and Corisande a moment longer before looking away. She seemed sad, and dazed, and Cole attributed that to the situation they had just been rescued from. He didn’t give it another thought. He was just so grateful that he had Corisande in his arms that he really didn’t think about anything else. They rode the rest of the way to the encampment where Alastor, Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus were waiting.
Alastor scooped Gaia out of the wagon bed, hugging his youngest child tightly. Though Cole was reluctant to let her go, for necessity’s sake, he had to lower Corisande into Ares’ waiting arms. Dismounting, he handed Drago over to a squire and immediately took Corisande back into his embrace in front of her brothers and father. He didn’t even care that they were present with his unbridled display of relief and affection.
If they had a problem with it, then he invited them to say so.
He had an answer ready.
“Are you well, Cori?” Alastor asked her, Gaia still in his arms. “Did they hurt you, lass?”
Corisande shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I am not injured.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
“What happened?” he asked. “Can you at least tell us that?”
Corisande wasn’t sure what to say, at first. There were so many answers to that question, but she truthfully didn’t feel like reliving any of it. She was still in the grips of the guilt over Gaia’s sacrifice.
But for her father’s sake, she answered.
“It is difficult to know where to start,” she said. “We were taken as we waited to move forward with the armies yesterday. They took us to their encampment where we spoke with the king.”
Alastor’s eyebrows lifted. “The king?” he repeated. “William?”
Corisande nodded. “He was in the encampment with his men.”
Alastor couldn’t help the expression of shock that crossed his face. “I see,” he said, setting Gaia to her feet. “What did he say to you?”
“He asked my name,” she said. “He wanted to know who was fighting in Berwick. Since every English army flies a standard, I saw no harm in telling him.”
Alastor regarded her a moment. “Did he know you were my daughter?”
Corisande looked at Gaia, the one who had divulged that particularly detail. “He knew,” she said. “Papa, may we sit and rest? I am so very tired.”
Alastor nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Forgive me. I am just so glad to see you that I did not stop to think of your comfort. Please, come; the tents are warm. Are you hungry? There is food.”
Corisande took Gaia by the hand, but not before she ripped the blanket off of her. She cast it to the ground. “Burn that,” she told her brothers. Collecting Gaia’s hand once more, she looked to Cole before she moved. “Are you coming?”
He nodded. “I will be along directly,” he said. “Go ahead.”
Wearily, Corisande moved in the direction of the largest de Bourne tent, finding her way through de Bourne soldiers with cooking fires of their own. Cole, Alastor, Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus watched them go.
“Well?” Alastor turned to Cole. “What happened? Where did you find them?”
Cole sighed heavily. “In the hills where The Marshal believed the Scots to be hiding,” he said. “They are camped up in those hills north of the river.”
“And how did you find my daughters?”
“We were very fortunate.”
The answer came not from Cole, but from Alexander, who was walking up behind them with Addax, Essien, Kress, and Achilles.
They turned to him.
“Fortunate, Sherry?” Alastor said. “Explain.”
Alexander pulled off one glove so he could scratch his scalp. “The Scots were moving them,” he said. “I do not know where, but they were on the move. We caught them just in time.”
Alastor looked stricken. “My God,” he breathed. “They were going to take them somewhere safe, to use as hostages.”
“Probably.”
The mere thought horrified Alastor. “Then you have my deepest gratitude,” he said, looking around at the Executioner Knights gathering. A couple of them, Bric and Achilles, had bloodstains all over them as a testament to the brutality of the rescue. “I am in your debt, truly.”
Alexander held up a hand to ease the excited, relieved father. “We are glad we were able to find your daughters,” he said. But his gaze moved over Alastor’s head to the massive army moving in the distance, heading north to the mouth of the River Tweed. “It looks as if Richmond has arrived.”
Alastor turned to look at the mass movement of troops. “Aye,” he said. “Richmond and de Royans, apparently. They were able to bring troops from Bowes Castle. Well over four thousand men, now moving to the mouth of the River Tweed because the longships were sighted about an hour ago, heading south against a stiff breeze. The progress is slow, b
ut that is working in our favor. The Marshal is calling all armies to Berwick and to the mouth of the river. It seems we take our stand today because as soon as the Northmen come closer, the Scots will try to join with them.”
Everyone was watching the movement. In fact, they could see Savernake and de Winter moving out with them, too, armies that Dashiell and Bric were in command of.
“I suppose I shall join my men,” Bric said what they were all thinking. “They cannot make a move without me.”
The Irish brogue was thick with the jest, but the point was taken. Both Bric and Dashiell mounted their steeds, heading off to rejoin their armies. Achilles tapped Kress.
“We should join Richmond,” he said. “Max and Caius will be expecting us.”
Kress nodded, turning to Alastor and Cole. “We must take our leave,” he said, his gaze lingering on Cole. “It was good to see you in action today, Cole. It has been a while since we have had such an adventure.”
Cole smiled. “I have missed it.”
Flashing a grin, Kress joined Achilles and the two of them headed off to join Richmond and de Royans. That left Peter, Alexander, Addax, and Essien, and it was Peter who bowed out next.
“My father will be looking for me,” he said. “I must join the de Lohr war machine and so must Sherry. My father will come looking for him if he does not comply.”
Alexander grunted. “The success of the entire de Lohr army has been up to me,” he said sarcastically, eyeing Peter. “You are just another pretty blond de Lohr face, Peter. You can fight like the devil himself, but you haven’t a brain in your head, I am sorry to say.”
Peter started laughing. “That’s not what your mother said last night.”
“I do not have a mother.”
“Not after I was finished with her, you don’t!”
Alexander swatted him and Peter roared with laughter, heading off to find the de Lohr army as Alexander mounted his stallion.
“I swear to you that my sword will slip someday and cut off something vital of his,” he said. Then, he snorted. “He’s a fool, but I’m rather fond of him. And you, Cole – well done today. I am glad your lady is safe.”
Cole went to him, taking his hand and holding it for a moment. “I owe you everything,” he said. “I will see you after the battle.”
“Indeed, you will.”
As Alexander headed off, Cole returned his attention to Alastor.
“Does my father still hold the castle?” he asked.
Alastor nodded. “Still,” he said. “He has his entire army positioned inside of it, prepared to fend off the Scots and the Northmen along with the Earls of Orkney should they break through the line of English.”
Cole looked off to the northeast, to the city with the castle crouched like a panther over the dark blue ribbon of the River Tweed.
“Addax and Essien and I must join him,” he said. “With your permission, I will bid Cori farewell.”
Alastor nodded, but as Cole moved past him, he reached out and grasped the man’s arm. “Your father told me about Teviot and Lady Audrie marrying another,” he said. “I told you when that situation was settled, you would have my permission to marry my daughter. That is still true. You have my blessing.”
Cole smiled broadly. “I had hoped you would say that,” he said. “I promised you once that I would love her for the rest of my life, my lord. That has not changed.”
“Good,” Alastor said. “Go, now. Bid her farewell. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
That was an understatement. Cole headed over to the big de Bourne tent, quietly calling to Corisande until the tent flap moved aside and she appeared.
The smile on her face filled him with comfort and contentment and joy such as he’d never known. He could look at that smile until the end of his days and never, ever grow weary of it.
“Gaia is already asleep,” she said softly. “Poor dear. She is exhausted.”
He reached up, moving a stray piece of hair from her face. “And you?”
She shrugged. “Weary, of course,” she said. “But I am thankful for my life. I am very thankful for your life. It was heroic of you to come and save us.”
“And you think that I would not?”
“I did not mean it that way. I simply meant that you are a brave and bold man.”
Reaching out, he took her hand in his big mitt, bring it to his lips for a tender kiss. “I am a brave and bold man who loves you more with each passing moment,” he said. “I would do anything for you, Cori. Anything in the world.”
“As I would do the same for you.”
“Then go home. Take Gaia and leave this field of battle so I know that you are safe.”
Her smile faded. “You know I cannot leave,” she said. “As you have obligations, so do I. I know you do not like that, but you cannot change it. Not now, at least.”
He didn’t want to get into a tussle with her when he had only just gotten her back, so he backed off. He didn’t want to ruin this moment by being belligerent.
“You may as well know that I am selfish,” he said. “I only want you to be safe, my queen. You know that. And that makes me selfish because it is for my peace of mind.”
Corisande relented a little. “It does not make you selfish,” she said. “It makes you sweet and wonderful and thoughtful. But right now, I will not leave. My father needs me and so do my brothers. I must be here to see this through, but once we are married… if you do not want me to go on any de Velt battle marches as your surgeon, then I suppose I shall have to obey you.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Your father just told me that I have his permission without reservation to marry you,” he said. “When this battle is over, I intend to do precisely that.”
She broke out into a big smile. “There is nothing I want more,” she said. “I am looking forward to it more than you know.”
“As am I,” he said. But then, he turned his attention in the direction of the mobilizing army, moving towards the river. “But first, we have a city to hold and Northmen to chase away. I am going to have to leave you for a while.”
Her smile faded. “Where are you going?”
He looked over his shoulder, towards the castle in the distance. “To Berwick Castle,” he said. “I must help my father hold the fortress. Our suspicion is that the Scots will try to take it back with the help of the Northmen, so I must be there to defend it to the last man if that is the case.”
She reached out her hands, clutching his big fingers. “You will be careful,” she said softly. “You are a great and noble knight and I should like you to father my children. And we are going to have a lot of children, so I will need you around for some time to come.”
He chuckled. “How many children?”
She lifted her shoulders. “A dozen, at least,” she said. “Mayhap more. I’ve not yet decided.”
He wriggled his eyebrows. “That is a lot.”
“Complaining?”
He shook his head, pulling her into an embrace. “Nay,” he murmured in her ear. “Because the fun will be in the practice.”
She giggled as he hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground so that her feet were dangling. Her arms were around his neck, her hands in his hair, as they simply held one another. It was a big day and they both knew it, but Corisande couldn’t even entertain the thought that this would be the last time she would ever hold him. To her, he was big and strong and indestructible.
She had to have faith.
“Until I hold you again in my arms, I will see you in my dreams,” she murmured. “I love you, my darling. Be safe.”
He kissed her head, her cheek, and finally her lips before setting her on her feet. “And I love you,” he murmured, releasing her. Then, he pointed at her. “And stay away from Scots.”
She grinned. “I will try.”
“No trying. Do.”
“I will do my best.”
“You are not giving me any confidence, Woman.”
She laug
hed at him and he grinned, waving a hand at her as if he were finished with her foolery. But her smile faded and she blew a kiss at him. He gave her a wink and headed for his horse.
Corisande stood there and watched as Cole mounted Drago. Addax and Essien were already on their steeds and the three of them took off, heading for Berwick Castle.
Heading into the belly of the beast.
It was all she could do not to break down in tears.
“He will be fine, you know.”
Blinking away the tears that stung, she turned to see Ares standing a few feet away. She nodded, trying very hard to be brave.
“He is a de Velt,” she said. “They are unbreakable. I know he will be fine.”
Ares’ gaze lingered on her. “I thought, at first, that he was fortunate to have you, but now I think you are fortunate to have him,” he said. “You know he serves William Marshal, don’t you?”
She nodded. “He told me,” she said. “How did you know?”
Ares gave her a wry smile. “It did not take a genius to figure it out when he assimilated into The Marshal’s men,” he said. “Spies and assassins and cutthroats, they are. But admirable knights. There are none finer.”
Corisande smiled at her eldest brother, a surprisingly wise man when the mood struck him. “And you?” she said. “The great Sheriff of Westmorland? I think you’re a fine knight, too. I’m very proud to be your sister.”
He reached out, stroking her cheek affectionately. “I’m glad you’re back from your Scots adventure,” he said. “When you feel like telling me what really happened, I will listen.”
Her smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that what you told Father wasn’t the entire truth, was it?”
He was very astute. Years of dealing with criminals and liars in his line of work had made him so, but Corisande wasn’t going to divulge something she wasn’t even sure she could ever verbalize. Even as she thought on it, guilt consumed her like a flame consumes kindling.
The Dark Spawn (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 5) Page 33