Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (17 page)

Lucius gave them a wry expression.
“He spends a great deal of time attempting to calm her, does he not?”

“He was ordered to, if you
recall,” Reid replied.

Lucius only grunted.
Disinterested in the wounded in the hall, he quit the room and was proceeding
to the door of the keep when he nearly bumped into Kenneth, coming down the
stairs. Lucius stepped back, startled by his second’s appearance.

“Christ, Kenneth,” he put his
hand over his startled heart. “I did not hear you coming.”

Kenneth’s gaze was
characteristically icy. “I see that you are feeling better, my lord.”

“Indeed,” Lucius eyed him. “I
hear our lady was disturbed by the battle. I trust she is feeling better as
well.”

“Being at a monastery the
majority of her life has afforded her little experience in the brutal realities
of the world,” Kenneth replied. “She will recover.”

Lucius looked up the steps, as if
he could see the lady in her chamber beyond. “I suppose, as her captain, I
should make my presence known to her this eve and assure her all is well.”

“I have already done that, my
lord,” Kenneth said.

Lucius’ manner cooled. “I am sure
that you have, Ken. However, I am still the captain of Kirk’s troops. I would
like to tend the lady myself.”

“I understand, my lord, but the
lady has retired for the evening. Perhaps tomorrow morning would be a better
time.”

It was not a request and they all
knew it. Lucius stared at Kenneth; it was an ominous glance. “Then perhaps my
knights will gather in the knight’s quarters so that we may debrief after this
battle,” he said icily. “That is, of course, if I may still issue such a
command.”

The power struggle was obvious
now. Kenneth would not respond to the challenge. “You are the captain, my lord.
Your commands will be obeyed.”

Without another word, Lucius
turned back to the dark, quiet cavern of the great hall. Reid, casting Kenneth
a long glance, departed for the bailey. Only Everett lingered behind with
Kenneth. When Lucius was out of earshot, he turned to Kenneth.

“He doesn’t recollect a damn
thing,” he said quietly. “Worse than that, he is not the least bit concerned
that we had a skirmish with the Welsh and he was not coherent enough to lead
our defenses.”

Kenneth’s gaze lingered on the
open door, the dusk outside.  “I sense his commitment to duty is failing since
our lord’s death.”

“And Lady Aubrielle’s
appearance,” Everett put in. “It is as if I am watching a candle blow out; one
moment the light is on, then comes a wind and it slowly fades to nothingness.
Lucius is heading for nothingness.”

Kenneth thought the analogy
rather appropriate, but in his case, it was just the opposite. His candle was
turning into a roaring flame by the appearance of Lady Aubrielle. “Then he is
condemning himself. No one has pushed him to it.”

“Perhaps; but he makes it clear
that he considers you a threat. Perhaps he feels that you, in fact, are pushing
him.”

“I will clear the air with him,
have no doubt. Meanwhile, he is not allowed anywhere near Lady Aubrielle. Is
that understood?”

Everett was forced to agree.
“Have you told her yet who her attacker was?”

“Not yet,” Kenneth replied. “It
is not something I intend to blurt out, and it’s not yet been the right time to
mention it. But she will know; she has to. We must get Lucius out of Kirk as
soon as possible.”

Everett nodded in concurrence.
They continued their conversation out into the night. Shortly, a sentry entered
the keep and mounted the steps, taking position outside of Lady Aubrielle’s
room.

***

Lucius had no idea why he had
come back to the great hall that smelled of rot and dying men; he was supposed
to be heading for the knight’s quarters for the debriefing. All he knew was
that he had to get away from Kenneth to clear his mind and he had ended up
here.

Kenneth was attempting to destroy
him; he could see that now. Never in his tenure at Kirk had he felt so much as
a mild threat from the man. In truth, he had always felt empowered by him. Now,
the addition of Lady Aubrielle had changed that. Lucius was forced to admit
that his orders to Kenneth to watch the woman had started the wheels of his
destruction in motion.

It was collapsing, his world. He
could see it. And his knights were siding with Kenneth. He no longer enjoyed
their support. When the earl was alive, Lucius had been able to hold the reins
of power oh-so-tightly. The earl had trusted him. But the new countess, Lady Aubrielle,
did not.

Discouraged, frustrated, he
wandered deep into the hall, oblivious to the injured and dying around him.  In
his oblivion, he accidentally kicked a man with a broken leg. The man groaned,
and Lucius stopped.

His deep eyes were hard. “Watch
where you lie.”

“Forgive, m’lord. This is where
they put me.”

Lucius’ gaze lingered on him. He
felt the need for a confrontation to exorcise his frustration with Kenneth. “I
do not know you, and I know every man in Kirk’s army. Who are you?”

“I… I am not a soldier, m’lord. I
had an accident before the battle started. I was here to seek help when they
closed the gates and sealed me in.  My companion as well.”

Lucius’ focus traveled between
the man with the broken leg and his associate with a huge knot on his forehead.
They didn’t look like typical soldiers, or peasants for that matter. They had
an odd, dark look about them.

“Where are you from?”

“London.”

“What is your purpose at Kirk?”

“We…we are traveling men.”

“How do you make your way?”

The questions were coming
rapid-fire, filled with suspicion. The man with the broken leg, Thomas from de
Gaul’s troupe, struggled to keep his answers even and deliberate. This was
attention he had never expected and certainly did not want; de Gaul would be
furious with him for being so conspicuous. His instructions had been to keep
silent and watch for the lady. Now, those plans were quickly falling into
jeopardy.

“We are hired by nobles for tasks
they may require,“ he said steadily. “We are men of enterprise.”

Lucius’ gaze narrowed.
“Mercenaries,” he hissed. “I knew it. How did you get in here?”

“We are not mercenaries, m’lord,
I swear it. We are honest men.”

“Pah,” Lucius kicked Thomas’ bad
leg again, asserting his dominance. “You are no more honest men than those
idiot Welsh who attacked us. What do you want here?”

“I told you; my companion and I
were injured and.…”

“That’s not true, at least, not
the way you explain it. I know your type; you were probably set upon by your
brother thieves and left to die. You are all a bunch of thieving, traitorous
cutthroats.”

“No, m’lord, I swear it.”

Lucius stood over him, his dark
eyes brimming with ill intent. Thomas knew that he was breathing his last,
suspecting that the knight was about to run him through and throw him to the
dogs. It was always thus with thieves and outlaws. He was disappointed they had
been discovered so soon, yet death at the hands of the knight would be far
better than death at the hands of de Gaul. He cringed, waiting for the inevitable
blow; but then a strange thing occurred.

Lucius’ expression had changed
from one of suspicion to one of thoughtfulness. His body relaxed and his gaze
moved between the two men, assessing them, determining if they were worthy of
the thoughts he was entertaining.  The longer he stood there, the more
enlightened his expression became.  He took a step closer and lowered his
voice.

“Are you good at what you do?”

“I do not understand m’lord.”

“Aye, you indeed understand me
completely. I know what you are, you little fool. Do not deny it. You speak in
riddles, just as you have been trained to do in order to survive. Now tell me;
are you good at what you do?”

Strangely, the man with the
broken leg sensed something other than murderous thoughts. It was an unexpected
turn of events. He sensed an opening to possibly take advantage of.

“We are very good at what we do.”

Lucius’ expression continued to
cool. “Do you take to the task of… eradication?”

“Animal, friend or foe?”

“Most definitely foe.”

“And this would be a threat to
your life, no doubt.”

“Who said this had anything to do
with me?”

“No one, m’lord.”

Thomas held Lucius gaze for a
long, heady moment.  The playing field was suddenly leveled and the sides
seemed to be equal. Thomas understood what the knight was saying and the
knight’s gaze was audaciously honest. Thomas sensed no collusion in an attempt
to trap him, only a genuine sense of foul intent. The man he was staring at had
a heart as black as death.

“Tell me what it is you need, and
with whom, m’lord,” he said quietly. “Will this accomplishment also include
safe passage from this place once the task his complete?”

“Of course.”

“No offense, m’lord, but how can
we be sure?”

“I am Lucius le Cor, Captain of
Kirk’s army. You have my word.”

“Then we await your instructions,
m’lord.”

“You shall have them.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

“One more thing.”

“What is that?”

“If you mention this to anyone, I
shall deny everything and kill you before you can move beyond these walls. Have
no doubt.”

Thomas smiled, his pale eyes glittering.
“Men such as myself do not survive long in my business if we are untrustworthy,
Captain. This contract is strictly private.”

Lucius quit the hall some time
later, congratulating himself on his excellent fortune. Only by pure chance did
he happen upon the answer to his problems and he silently thanked God for
directing him to the injured men in the hall. He was positive it had been
divine intervention. God was showing him the way to save himself.

The next move was at hand.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

The debriefing after the Welsh
attack had been a nightmare. Lucius had been combative and defensive while
Kenneth and the knights attempted to review the battle, the strategies, the
force behind it, and the potential for a retaliatory offensive. The affair had gone
well into the night. The siege review notwithstanding, it was reiterated
between Kenneth and the other knights that Lucius needed to be constantly
watched until they could send him away from Kirk. Under no circumstances was he
to be anywhere near the Lady Aubrielle. Kenneth retired somewhere after
midnight, resisting the urge to go to Aubrielle, thinking he needed to spend
the night alone to more clearly organize his thoughts.

There was so much on his mind
that he had no idea where to begin. He didn’t know how long he lay there,
staring at the ceiling, thinking of the last conversation he and Aubrielle
shared. Never would he have imagined that she could have fallen in love with
him. But she said that she had, and then she had gone to sit by the hearth and
cry. Kenneth was so surprised that he had been rendered speechless. But he
knew, without question, that he felt the same way about her. As insane as it
sounded, he knew it was the truth. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.
He was terrified. So he had abandoned the chamber without another word and left
her sitting by the hearth, weeping.

He felt horrible for running out
on her. He wanted to go back to her, beg forgiveness for running off like an
idiot, and tell her that he adored her. Aye, she was stubborn, belligerent,
headstrong and opinionated, but she was also sweet, charming, intelligent, and
compassionate. He had come to see the good in her far outweighed the bad. Even
her bad qualities had their charm.

He knew he would never get any
sleep unless he told her how he felt. To the Devil with his fear; if she was
brave enough to confess her innermost feelings, then he should be brave as
well. Most men viewed emotion as a weakness; in faith, Kenneth had never felt
so strong. It was as if Aubrielle had planted something deep within him that
fed his soul. She deserved to know.

It was a couple of hours before
dawn when he finally rose, donned his heavy leather trousers, tunic and boots,
and ventured out into the night. The moon was full, bathing the landscape in a
ghostly glow.  He saw Reid up on the battlements with the night watch and he
gave the man a half-handed wave. Everything was peaceful, the Welsh having
limped back over the border to lick their wounds.

Kenneth took the first step on
the wooden stairs leading into the keep when a piercing whistle sounded from
the wall watch. He paused, watching the men scurry to their posts.

Reid called down to him.