Dragonblade Trilogy - 03 - The Savage Curtain (40 page)

“I’m gonna try and lift ye up tae
drink this,” he indicated the pitcher. “After that, we’ll discuss yer future.”

 

***

 

Tate knew that Kenneth was
furious with him.  Although Kenneth was, more than any other man alive, able to
control his emotions in any given situation, Tate knew simply by the look in
Kenneth’s eye that he was beyond furious. He was livid.  He further knew this
because Kenneth stuck to Joselyn as closely as a mother hen, making sure she
was comfortable, fed, not too hot or cold, and generally well taken care of.  
It got to the point where Joselyn actually had to chase him off. The man was as
clinging as a shadow.

Tate knew that Kenneth was
reluctant to use Joselyn as an envoy to gaining Stephen’s release.  But both
men knew she was Stephen’s only chance, even if Kenneth was not ready to openly
admit it.  He was more concerned with protecting her for Stephen’s sake, while
Tate, although protective, was willing to let her take the risk in order to
save her husband.  Both men were greatly torn. The closer they drew to the
outskirts of Berwick, the more Kenneth’s fury turned to resignation.  He was
coming to accept the fact that Joselyn was, indeed, Stephen’s only hope.

The party to Berwick consisted of
Tate, Kenneth, Joselyn and about fifty men at arms.  As they drew to within a
mile of the city, Tate cut to the northwest and made his way to the River Tweed
about a mile to the west of the castle.  Whiteadder Bridge lay before them, an
expanse of wood across the gently flowing river.  They could see the castle
from where they stood, a massive bastion poised at river’s edge.  Joselyn in
particular gazed longingly at the castle, a place where she had known some of
her worst and best memories.  She must have stood there for quite some time
because it took her a moment to realize that Tate was trying to get her
attention.

He stood behind her, clearing his
throat softly.   Kenneth stood slightly behind Tate, still looking rather
unhappy about the entire thing.  The men at arms were gathering the horses and
moving back through the summer grass to the trees that bordered the river,
where they would hide until the venture was over.   As the morning grew warmer
and the insects from the river danced about, Joselyn faced Tate and Kenneth.

“Do not worry so,” she said, more
for Kenneth than for Tate. “I shall ride to Berwick and demand to be given my
husband. It should not take long.”

Tate hoped she was not truly so
naïve. “We have discussed a course of action,” he reminded her. “It would be
better if you do not show emotion where it pertains to Stephen. It could be
used against you if they feel your loyalty is to him and not your kinsmen.  You
need to claim him as one would a possession.”

She thought on that a moment, her
long-lashed eyes turning to behold the castle once more.  She was quivering
with anticipation, the desire to discover what had become of her husband
causing her heart to thump painfully against her ribs.  It was a struggle not
to become emotional but she knew that Tate was right; she had to show as little
emotion as possible. She had to be strong and firm if this plan was going to
work.

“I would like to know where Kynan
is,” she said as she turned back around, looking at Kenneth. “You said that you
released him.”

Kenneth cocked a blond eyebrow.
“We released him so that we could follow him and hopefully discover the rebel
plans.  It was a gamble that did not pay off, one that I will take full
responsibility for.”

“Do you think he was part of the
force that captured Berwick?”

“I would stake my life on it.”

Joselyn digested the information,
increasingly eager to be on her way. She refused to believe that Stephen had
been killed; she was convinced he was somewhere in the walls of Berwick and she
would find him no matter what. 

“Very well,” she said, moving for
her small gray palfrey. Tate took her arm and lifted her up into the saddle as
Kenneth fussed with the stirrups. “I will return as soon as I can and I swear
to you that Stephen will be with me.”

Tate gazed at her, nodding his
head after a moment. There was so much more to it than just her simple
statement;
I swear to you that Stephen will be with me
.  Since her
initial breakdown at the news of her husband’s capture, he had seen a growth in
courage fill the lady. She was not aggressive and bold like his wife, who was
the bravest and strongest woman he knew, but she had a steely strength in her
that he was coming to see. He had a feeling that, if cornered, the lady would
come out swinging.

“Ride to the castle and demand
entry as the daughter of Alexander Seton,” he went over their plan one last
time. “Once inside, you will ask to be shown your husband.  You will further
insist to whoever is in charge that you demand the release of your husband,
which is well within your rights.”

“But
if they do not release him, what should…?”
      He cut her off; they had been over this several times. “You will tell
them that the king has agreed to release your father from captivity at Alnwick
in exchange for Pembury.  It is a fair trade, one that I doubt they will
refuse. Your father is very important to young David Bruce, heir of Robert. If
they have a chance to bargain for his release, they will do it.”

Joselyn listened seriously to his
instructions.   But when he was finished, she fixed him with an intense gaze.
“You realize, of course, that if they refuse to release him, I will not leave
him. I will stay in captivity with him.”

Tate nodded slowly. “I understand
completely.”

Joselyn gave him a brave little
smile, her gaze moving to Kenneth.  “I will bring him back, Kenneth,” she said
sincerely “You need not worry. All will be well.”

Kenneth didn’t like it when the
focus was on him. He made his way over to her, unable to voice the fears
roiling in his chest.  For lack of anything comforting or confident to say, he cupped
her head in his two massive hands, kissed her cheek, and walked away.  There
was resignation, sorrow and helplessness in the gesture, something that touched
Joselyn deeply. She knew how worried he was. She and Tate watched him go before
looking to each other.

“Go, now,” Tate encouraged her.
“Stay calm and follow the plan we discussed. I am sure I will be seeing Stephen
by supper.”

Joselyn forced a smile at him as
she kicked the little palfrey, urging the animal to the road and across the
bridge beyond. Tate watched her cross the bridge and continue along the road,
heading for the massive fortress in the distance.  The closer she drew to the
structure, the more his anxiety grew.  Behind him, Kenneth had turned around to
watch as well.

Watch Joselyn ride straight into
the jaws of the lion.

      

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

 

Kynan had Stephen on a makeshift
bed in the solar of the keep; he was too injured to make his way up the steps,
so after feeding Stephen a loaf of bread, old mutton and stale wine, he piled some
old rushes against the wall and lay Stephen upon it.   In less agony than he
had been in days, Stephen fell into a heavy sleep.

Kynan sat in a chair and watched
the man sleep, eventually rubbing his eyes wearily as he wondered what in the
hell he was going to do. The rebel force that had reclaimed Berwick consisted
of many clans under the command of the Earl of Moray, John Randolph.  Although
Randolph was not at Berwick, several of his burly generals were. It was those
men that Kynan worried about. The same men had been at the siege of Berwick and
had seen the atrocities perpetrated by the English, particularly with the young
Seton boys.  Pembury had been involved in that travesty. Kynan had been hearing
rumblings for a few days that Moray’s generals wanted to hang Pembury in
vengeance.

Kynan was not sure how he was
going to prevent such a thing but he knew that he would do his best.  Watching
Pembury sleep, he thought on Joselyn’s words of how the man had overlooked all
of the shameful things that had been heaped upon her. His love had been
unconditional. Kynan wondered what kind of man could hang young boys but love a
woman who had been seriously compromised. It was an odd paradox that he
pondered, finally rising from his chair and hunting about for something to
light the fire with. Even though it was mid-day outside and sunny, the room was
cool. Finding no peat or charcoal, he opened the door with the intention of
hunting for burning material when a faint female voice caught his attention.

It was coming from the bailey. He
could hear it through the lancet window just to the left of the entry door. 
Curious, he opened the door, assaulted by the bright light and shielding his
eyes from the sun.  His heart leapt into his throat as he spied the source of the
sound.

Joselyn stood in the bailey, clad
in a pale traveling cloak, her luscious dark hair braided and draped over one
shoulder.  Holding the reins to a small gray palfrey, she was speaking to
several large, dirty Scots, Moray’s men, and Kynan bolted from the keep,
practically flying across the dusty bailey until he reached her. He had no idea
why she was here or what she was saying to the guard, but it didn’t matter.
Kynan didn’t want her around men such as this and he was terrified and angry as
well as confused. As he came upon her, he reached out and grabbed her.

Joselyn screamed at the swiftness
of the action, terrified until she saw who it was.  Then her face lit up.
“Kynan!” she exclaimed softly. “I am so glad to….”

Kynan didn’t let her speak
further; he was yanking her away from Moray’s guard, pulling her with him
towards the keep.  His actions were indicative of an extremely angry man and
Moray’s men looked both surprised and disappointed at her sudden removal.


Hoot
, mon!” one of the
guards spoke to Kynan. “We saw her first!”

Kynan’s rage was boundless.
“She’s me sister and if ye move against her, I shall kill ye!”

That seemed to calm the amorous
guard; they knew Kynan MacKenzie and the man’s reputation. He fought alongside
the McCulloch and everyone knew that anyone involved with the McCulloch was
crazy and blood-thirsty.  Moreover, he was Seton’s kin.  That reason alone was
enough to garner some respect, so they let him yank the lovely woman away
without another word.  When Kynan was sure they weren’t going to challenge him,
he looked at Joselyn.

“You foolish wench,” he hissed.
“What are ye doin’?”

Joselyn fright returned as she
stumbled after him. “I have come to get my husband.”

“How
did ye get in here?”
Joselyn tripped on her own feet and almost fell to her knees. “I rode here from
Forestburn,” she replied, annoyance mingling with her fright. “I came to the
gates and told the guards that I was Alexander Seton’s daughter.  They let me
in. Stop pulling!”

Kynan ignored her demand although
his grip eased somewhat. “I cannot believe ye would chance yer life so
foolishly,” he snarled.

Joselyn was trying to pull away
from him angrily. “I came for my husband,” she insisted. “Where is he?”

Kynan came to an abrupt halt at
the door to the keep, speaking through clenched teeth. “Ye were well away from
here,” he growled. “Ye should have stayed away. It ‘twas stupid of ye tae come
back.”

She scowled, bordering on tears.
“Where is Stephen?” she was starting to break down. “I am not leaving without
him and I will kill you if you stand in my way. Do you hear me?”

She was yelling by the time she
finished the sentence; so much for remaining unemotional. Kynan could see, in
her expression as well as her words, that she was absolutely serious. With
another growl, he yanked her inside the keep.

Once inside the cool, dank entry,
he slammed the heavy oak door and turned to her, grasping her by the arms.

“Jo-Jo,” he was far less angry,
far more concerned. “Ye shouldna have come back, lass. ‘Tis far too dangerous
for ye tae be here.”

Joselyn was struggling against
her tears. “Where is my husband?” she demanded again. “He belongs to me and I
want him back.”

Kynan shook his head sadly.
“Jo-Jo….”

 “I will tear this place apart
looking for him,” she snapped. “Tell me where he is or I will….”

Kynan shushed her before she
could finish, turning her for the solar door. “He is going tae be angry with
ye,” he stated the obvious.

Joselyn was unsettled and
confused by Kynan’s rough appearance, upset by her own emotions, so much so
that when Kynan thrust her into the small solar, she didn’t notice anything
about it except that it was the room where she and Stephen had first met,  the
room where she had first spoken to Cade. It was dark in the room so she didn’t
see her husband lying against the wall, partially blocked by the only table in
the room.  She turned to Kynan as the man followed her into the chamber, shut
the door and bolted it.

“What in the world are you
doing?” she demanded. “Let me out of here this instant and take me to Stephen.”

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