Dragonblade Trilogy - 03 - The Savage Curtain (38 page)

Toby interjected; she couldn’t
help it. “Tate, you cannot think to send her into the heart of a battle,” she
was deeply distressed. “She is with child. The strain would be too much.”

Tate looked at her. “I seem to
remember my pregnant wife helping me escape from Roger Mortimer,” he reminded
her, smiling when she rolled her eyes in defeat. “Pregnancy has nothing to do
with it. Heart has everything to do with it. And Lady Pembury has heart. She is
stronger than we know.”

“And love,” Joselyn said softly,
wiping the remaining tears from her face. “I would walk through fire and ice
for Stephen in any case.”

Toby looked sick as she faced
Joselyn, putting her soft hand on the woman’s arm. “I know,” she muttered.
“Unfortunately, I know all too well. I have been in your position and I did
exactly that.”

Tate was gazing warmly at his
wife, memories of her sacrifice long ago filling him with respect and
adoration.  He kissed her cheek as he looked to Joselyn.

“You must be strong,” he told
her. “Stephen deserves nothing less.”

Joselyn’s tears were nearly
vanished now that she knew she would be doing something, anything, to help gain
his release. Things didn’t seem so hopeless now. “I would die for him without
reserve.”

The warmth in Tate’s eyes faded.
“Let us hope it does not come to that.”

***

It was a good looking fortress if
they did say so themselves.

Roman and Cade had built a fort
of rocks in the northwest corner of Forestburn’s bailey, something that Tate
had helped them with when he was not busy with other things.  It had been a
time of bonding with his eldest son and with Cade, the boy who had never known
the joy and comfort of a parent. But a burly old man by the name of Wallace had
been the principal labor force and had also been given the duty of chasing away
Alex and Dylan when they wanted to take it over.

In fact, once the fortress was
built into what looked like nothing more than a three foot tall ring of stones,
the twins made it their goal in life to kick Roman and Cade out of it and claim
it. Tate and Wallace would watch the battle, giggling like fools at the antics.
It made for great entertainment.

And this day was no different.
Roman and Cade had risen at dawn and took bread and cheese out to their
fortress. As they sat and ate, they discussed how to create a shelter inside of
it. The little fawn had a bed of rushes and grass in the corner and they were
proud of their only occupant.  But as they played lord and masters, Alex and
Dylan emerged from the keep with their father and headed directly for the
fortress.  Since they had been warned about charging into the fort and throwing
punches, they came to within several feet of the stone circle and began
throwing rocks over the side.  Roman and Cade found themselves under siege and
the battle of the day began.

They continued to play well into
the morning. At one point, the twins charged in and roughed up their brother,
who was saved by Cade when he grabbed both twins by the neck and shoved them
back outside of the fort.  The twins ran crying to their father, who told them
that rather than try and steal Roman’s fortress, perhaps they should build one
of their own. Soon, a second fortress was under construction in the southwest
section of the bailey. Old Wallace was confiscated as slave labor.

Roman and Cade watched the
building with interest. They wanted to make sure that Dylan and Alex’s fort was
not bigger than theirs. If it was, it would be automatic grounds for an attempt
at conquest. Tate was helping the twins somewhat but was distracted when the
sentries on the walls sent out a cry. He left to go to the gatehouse as Roman
and Cade watched.

“C’mon,” Roman told Cade. “Let’s
go see who is coming.”

The boys ran across the bailey
just as the gates cranked open, admitting several men in armor.  The boys
scattered out of the way, staying clear of the chargers, but Cade recognized
one of the men.  He had seen him before, back at Berwick.  As he and Roman
ducked out of the way, he pointed him out.

“I have seen that knight,” he
said to Roman. “He was at Berwick.”

Roman watched as the massive
knight dismounted his charger and removed his helm. “That is Kenneth St.
Héver,” he informed him. “He used to serve the king but now he serves the Earl
of Wrexham. He and my father are best friends.”

As the boys watched, Tate made
his was over to Kenneth. It was evident early on that the subject of their
conversation was quite serious.  The boys watched with growing concern as Tate
put a hand on Kenneth’s shoulder as he walked past him, heading towards the keep.
After depositing his helm on his saddle, Kenneth followed.

The boys couldn’t help but notice
that Kenneth looked like he had been through a grinder; he was dirty, worn and
bloody.  They looked at each other at the same time, with the same thought.

“A battle!” Roman gasped.
“Something must have happened!”

Cade’s brow furrowed. “He was at
Berwick when we left,” his eyes suddenly opened wide. “Do you suppose Berwick
was attacked?”

Roman’s sharp young mind was
working furiously. “Let’s go and see!”

They raced across the bailey,
dodging men and horses, climbing the stairs to the keep just as Kenneth
disappeared inside.  By the time they entered, Tate and Kenneth were standing
in the doorway speaking to Toby and Joselyn beyond.  But something happened and
Joselyn was suddenly in Kenneth’s arms; when the boys saw this, they hid
underneath the stairs, listening as Kenneth carried Joselyn up to her chamber. 
They could hear the adults and their concern, voices fading as they entered the
chamber above.  Bravely, the boys followed.

They hid in the shadows of the
second floor landing, listening to Kenneth and Tate speak of a besieged
Berwick.  Somewhere in that conversation, the realized that something had
happened to Stephen.  Lady Pembury was weeping and the boys could hear Tate
devising a plan to return to the castle and save Stephen.  Lady Pembury was
somehow a big part of the plan. When they had heard enough, they scampered back
down the stairs and returned to their fortress in the sunny, dusty bailey.

Neither boy spoke for quite some
time. They sat against their stone walls, lost in thought as the bustling
bailey went on around them. Roman kept looking at Cade, noting how serious and
disturbed he looked.

“You should not worry,” he told
him. “My father will save Stephen.”

Cade looked at him, his young
brow furrowed. “But they are sending Lady Pembury to save Sir Stephen,” he
said. “Your father said she was his best hope.”

Roman shrugged, fidgeting with
some of the rocks that the twins had thrown over the wall. “Nothing will happen
to her. My father will protect her. He is the greatest knight in the land.”

Cade was in turmoil, struggling
with terrible thoughts.  He had grown to love his mother and he did not want to
see her in danger. More than that, he was very worried for Stephen, a man he
admired a great deal. 

“But…,” he stammered, trying to
voice his thoughts. “I only just got parents.  I do not want to lose them, not
when I just got them.”

Roman knew the story; they had
talked about it one night after eating a batch of sweetcakes that Lady Pembury
had made. Too many sweets had loosened Cade’s tongue and the story of his life,
up until that very moment, had come spilling out.  Although Cade was thrilled
to have found his mother, he was deeply proud to become the son of a baron.  It
was a life he had never dreamed he could have, now being threatened by war and
politics.

“So what do you want to do?”
Roman demanded. “You cannot do anything my father hasn’t already thought of,
you know. He’ll get Stephen back; you’ll see.”

It was not good enough. Cade
shook his head. “I am going with them.”

Roman snorted. “You cannot; my
father will not let you.”

“Then I shall sneak out,” Cade
shot back. “I shall sneak out and follow them and when my mother goes to get
Sir Stephen, I will help her.”

Roman was about to tell him how
stupid he was but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He could see that Cade
was serious, terrified he was about to lose parents he had only just met.  Then
he began to think of what a fine adventure it would be. Surely his father would
not be angry with him when he helped save Sir Stephen from the Scots.  He grew
excited and scared at the same time.

“You should not go, you know,” he
said pointedly. “You might just get in the way.”

Cade shook his head vigorously.
“I will not,” he insisted. “No one will pay attention to me; I’m just a boy. I cannot
do any harm. But what they don’t know is that I’m going to be the one to free
Sir Stephen. Scots are fools!”

Roman nodded in agreement just
because Cade was so enthusiastic about it. “Well,” he said reluctantly. “If you
are going, then I’m going with you. You may need help.”

Cade was not so sure he needed a
sidekick but he eventually nodded.  “Very well,” he said, eyeing his young
friend. “But I give the orders.”

Roman’s mouth popped open. “But
my father is the earl!”

“I’m older!”

Roman backed off, unhappy that
Cade had pulled age rank on him. But he was not so unhappy that he didn’t want
to go. He didn’t want to miss the chance to make his father proud of him.  He
finally pursed his lips in a gesture of defeat.

“So what do we do?” he asked.

Cade was not sure yet. But he was
working on it.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

Stephen thought he had been
asleep but couldn’t be sure. It could have been another bout with unconsciousness. 
He’d spent three days chained up to a makeshift stock with no shelter from the
weather and hardly any water. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate; he
thought perhaps the morning before the battle began but he was not sure.
Whatever damage they had done to him in the beating following the capture of
Berwick had been complete and thorough.  His mind, and body, was thrashed.

So another day began as dawn
turned the horizons shades of pink and purple. The massive keep was to his left
and he kept himself sane by remembering the days he spent there with Joselyn. 
He would close his eyes and go back to the day they had met and the subsequent
days that saw him fall madly in love with the woman. He imagined what their son
would look like, a boy with dark hair and cornflower blue eyes. Stephen’s
father possessed the same color eyes; they were a Pembury trait. He imagined
the expression on his father’s face when he saw his grandson for the first
time. Stephen just hoped he was alive to see it.

The Scots were burning the last
pile of English dead this morning, the scent of burning flesh lying heavy in
the air. Stephen was not sure if Kenneth was part of those funeral pyres but he
didn’t think so. The last he saw the man, he was severing heads and limbs. He
seriously doubted Kenneth had been killed in the battle. So the question
remained what happened to him.

Alan had been killed when the
wall had been breached and Stephen hadn’t seen what had become of Lane. Too
many Scots and not enough English had been an eventual recipe for disaster. 
The English soldiers were simply overwhelmed by the sheer number.  Henry of
Lancaster, delayed by weather further south, had arrived on the outskirts of
Berwick on the eve of the first day of battle only to find it completely under
siege.  With one thousand men, Henry tried to fight his way to the castle but
was repelled by the Earl of Moray and his allies.  Under heavy casualties,
Henry withdrew.

Stephen didn’t blame him. The
odds were too great. He was just thankful that he had listened to Kenneth and
sent Joselyn to Forestburn.  He could deal with his captivity and uncertain
future, but if Joselyn had been compromised, his anguish would have known no
bounds.

He must have passed out again
shortly after dawn because he regained consciousness just as he fell to the
ground.  Someone had cut him loose from the stocks. He was suffering from
several broken ribs as well as a cracked right wrist and multiple cuts and
bruises; he had suffered the broken ribs when he had first been captured and
the fractured wrist had come courtesy of a bitter Scots who did it to show off
to his friends. He was beaten and weakened from exposure and no food, unable to
resist when several men picked him up off the dirt and hauled him across the
compound.  They ended up dragging him inside the keep, inside the solar where
he had first formally met his wife.  The room had a multitude of memories but
he couldn’t spare the energy to reflect; he could only lie on the floor in
agony where they had dropped him.