"I
thought there would be a great deal of jealousy between Lady Ellyn and Lady
Maude for your attentions, but there has been none at all," Penelope interrupted
Arissa's thoughts as she watched the clover under her feet. "In fact, they
seem to work well as a team."
Arissa
made a face at the thought. "Team, indeed. Sometimes they can be most
overbearing. Having one mother can be difficult enough, but two...." she
rolled her eyes humorously, giggling when Penelope laughed. "But my mother
seems very happy to be here, don’t you think? I am so glad Lady Maude has
welcomed her into Lambourn's family."
Penelope
nodded, catching sight of her husband on the battlements. "Even though
Lady Maude did not give you life, you are still her daughter. And she considers
Lady Ellyn part of the family because she’s your birth mother."
Arissa's
slippered feet met with the gravel and dirt road leading to the bailey of
Lambourn. "I remember when I first met my mother at the abbey, how somber
and quiet she was. As if the years of separation had taken something out of
her. But here, she seems most content. She knows she belongs."
"She
belongs with
you,
" Penelope waved to her husband as he acknowledged
her from the ramparts above.
Arissa
agreed as she allowed her brother to lead her into the beautiful new bailey.
The babe in her belly kicked as she moved across the dusty courtyard and Arissa
was positive it was because, naturally being not only a le Bec but a male
child, he was expressing his pleasure at the sounds of horses and soldiers and
weaponry. All that his father was, he would soon be a part of, too.
In
spite of the somewhat shocking pregnancy of an unwed lady, Arissa relished the
feel of the life inside her. She did not care what anyone else thought of her
shameless state, for she knew the child had been conceived in love and
devotion. Both of her mothers knew that as well, especially Ellyn, who acutely
remembered her similar circumstance those eighteen years ago.
Even
if a few of the other occupants of Lambourn whispered and pointed, it was of no
matter to Arissa. She was proud to bear the child of a man she loved with all
her heart. A man she had loved for as long as she could remember.
The
child gaining strength and size inside her was a portion of Richmond that crown
or country could never take away, and she prayed every night that he survived
the wars in order than he might know his son. However, as fearful as he had
been of her conceiving a child, she wondered if the sight of her swollen body
would be enough to accomplish what hordes of English knights had failed to
achieve; perhaps the shock would be enough to send him to his grave.
As
the small group crossed the bailey with leisure borne of a slow pace and
obvious conditions, Daniel came swinging down the ladder from the battlements.
Penelope thought he was coming to see her; instead, he focused directly on
Bartholomew and Arissa.
"An
army has been sighted a mile out, Bart," he said. "Your father is
coming home."
Bartholomew's
face immediately brightened. "Are you sure?"
Daniel
nodded, passing a glance at Arissa. "Henry's banner has been sighted as
well."
The
color drained from Arissa's face. If the army was returning, then it could only
mean something monumental had occurred; her father had been at the border for
five months with nary a reprieve. If the entire army was on the retreat, then
it could only mean that the war for Wales' freedom had come to a conclusion. God
help her, she did not want to know the details of the conclusion.
Bartholomew
felt her sway in his grasp, his glee quickly turning to concern. "Riss, I
am sure he’s all right," he whispered comfortingly, releasing his hold
when Emma and Penelope took a firm grip on either arm. "Allow Emma and Pen
to escort you into the castle. I shall come to you with the details, I
promise."
She
shook her head, her face pale and her lips colorless. Just as she attempted to
refuse his request, Mossy came scurrying from the castle.
"I
saw the banners!" he announced loudly. "The earl's returned, and
Richmond with him!"
Arissa
nearly collapsed. "How can you say that?" she gasped. "He was
fighting against my father and the rest of the English army, including Gavan,
and they all want to kill him because he’s a traitor!"
Mossy
took Arissa from Penelope's grasp, patting her arm gently. "Do not get
yerself worked into a fit, Riss. Ye'll bring about yer son far sooner than we
would like, and I do not expect I would enjoy delivering a seventh-month
babe," he attempted to pull her toward the castle, but she was slow to
come about. Mossy simply patted her arm again in a comforting manner. "If
ye come, I shall make ye a brew of honey and rosehips. Ye like honey and
rosehips, Riss."
She
allowed him to lead her to the steps when the sentry horns sounded high above
her head, piercing the heat of the late July sky. Arissa was jolted by the
sound, digging in her heels at the threshold to the castle entrance and
refusing to go any further.
As
Mossy supported her gently, she turned with fear and apprehension to the
yawning gates of Lambourn. 'Twas foolish to run, she knew. Whether the news
from Wales was good or bad, she had to know all the same.
It
all seemed to have come about so quickly, with nary a message or rumor
announcing the ending of the border wars. The troops that had battled against
Richmond and the Welsh were suddenly returning home, undoubtedly victorious,
which could only mean that her beloved had met his end at the hands of those
who had once served him. Sweet St. Jude, he had promised to return to her.
He
had promised
!
The
horn sounded again as Penelope, Regine and Emma joined Arissa in her wait.
Lured by the blast of the horns, Lady Maude and her women appeared in the
doorway, followed very shortly by Lady Ellyn. Eight ladies with wide eyes wait
on the steps of Lambourn, listening to every shout, watching every action, as
Daniel and even Bartholomew prepared the bailey for the earl's arrival.
The
minutes dragged. Arissa's palms were sweating, her face pale as she waited for
the first of the column to appear. Beside her, Mossy continued to hold her hand
and he could feel her rapid pulse, sensing her terror.
After
a small eternity, a rider clad in the earl's colors came barreling through the
gates, met by a host of sentries and the ladies on the stairs strained their
ears to catch a word of the message being delivered. After a moment, two of the
sentries abruptly broke from the huddle and came racing towards the castle.
Arissa’s
heart was in her throat as the soldiers bore down upon the small group,
positive that they were preparing to relay cataclysmic news. Hand to her neck,
she nearly toppled over when the soldiers reached them.
"The
earl requests your presence, Mossy," one of the men practically shouted.
"He has a mortally wounded man."
Arissa
could scarcely breathe as Mossy let go of her, calmly sending one of the men
for his medicament bag as he descended the steps and moved toward the huddle of
soldiers. The women on the stairs watched with apprehension as Mossy was loaded
onto a destrier and whisked out of the bailey.
From
that moment on, Arissa remembered very little of the wait. The column was
growing closer, indicated by the activity on the battlements, and the first of
the standard bearers finally appeared in the gaping gateway. She was vaguely aware
of her mother's comforting hand on her shoulder, a slender white appendage that
resembled her own. As the ladies observed the activity, more of the earl's army
poured forth to reveal a column of knights. Arissa recognized Gavan before she
recognized the earl.
Something
deep inside of her suddenly broke free and Arissa pulled from her mother's
grasp and bound across the bailey toward the incoming warriors. She could hear
a good deal of shouting and commotion as she dodged soldiers and horses alike,
struggling, striving with every ounce of strength she possessed to reach
Richmond's former best friend. She had to reach him. She had to know what had
happened.
"Gavan!"
she screamed. "Gavan, where's Richmond?"
Gavan
saw her coming, torn between shock at her condition and complete, utter grief.
He dismounted his charger so rapidly that he nearly stumbled, fighting to
regain his weary footing even as Arissa propelled herself into his arms. In a
great cloud of silk and raven-black hair, Gavan found himself clutching her as
if to crush her.
"Riss!"
he gasped, dazed and overwhelmed. "My God, You are.... you are
pregnant!"
She
had no desire to respond to his observation. "Where's Richmond? What
happened?"
She
was hardly cognizant when he grasped her tightly and began to lead her back
into the collection of men and wagons still filtering in through the gate.
"It's over, Riss," he said hoarsely. "Henry was
victorious."
Her
face went ashen and he could feel her strength wan. Adjusting his grip, he
found himself practically carrying her through the ranks of men and animals.
"Sweet St. Jude, Gavan,” she moaned. “Where is Richmond?"
Gavan
swallowed hard, his eyes searching for the familiar wagon he knew to be at the
rear of the column.
"We
engaged the Welsh army at Shrewsbury on a bright morning, the twenty-first of
July,” he said. “The battle was intense, as fierce as I have ever seen any
battle, and above the smoke and death and carnage I could see Richmond poised
on a rise, watching the scene below him. He just sat there, unmoving. It was
odd, Riss; I have never known him to be inactive in any fighting."
"Gavan...,"
Arissa pleaded. She did not want to hear his story. She only wanted to know
what had become of Richmond.
But
Gavan was not ready to disclose the fate of his friend. His
best
friend.
There was still a good deal more to tell.
"The
day progressed and Richmond remained on the hill, and I was sorely tempted to
engage him myself,” he continued. “But as I made my way toward him, Richmond
abruptly spurred his charger headlong into the massacre below. As I watched, he
approached Hotspur with his broadsword drawn and, suddenly, the two of them
were battling like Lucifer and Gabriel.”
Gavan
paused as his eyes located the wagon which he sought. Instinctively, he pulled
Arissa closer as he advanced on the rig. "He.... he was magnificent,
Riss," his continued in a scratchy whisper. "He and Hotspur fought
for hours and hours, ignoring the rest of the battle waging around them. As if
it was just the two of them, determined to resolve the outcome of the entire battle
between them. I have never seen anything like it and I pray to God I never
will."
Arissa
could barely function. Her breathing had all but stopped, her legs barely able
to support her weight as she gazed up at Gavan's weary, stubbled face. She
could scarcely ask what she knew she must.
"What....
what happened?"
Gavan
reached the rig; Arissa was so caught up in his story that she failed to notice
Mossy kneeling in the wagon, huddled over a prostrate form. Gavan noticed,
however; he couldn't help the tears that stung his eyes.
"Hotspur
gored him as I watched,” he murmured. “But as Richmond fell back, I was witness
to the most amazing battle strategy I have ever seen. He closed his eyes and I
thought surely he was dead; instead, he managed to bring his blade up and catch
Percy in the neck. What hours of close-quarters fighting had failed to procure,
Richmond achieved in his final blow. I have oft seen him lodge arrows
visualizing the target rather than actually seeing it, but I have never seen
him use the tactic in open battle," his voice was hardly a whisper as his
anguish-filled gaze found her. "He killed Hotspur without seeing him,
Riss. It was the only stratagem he had left because all else had failed."
Arissa's
knees gave out completely and Gavan lifted her in his arms, moving toward the
bed of the rig. "Gavan, Gavan," she murmured, too consumed with her
grief and terror to allow her tears to come forth. "What
happened
to him? Where is he?"
He
put her in the wagon bed.
"Here,
Riss. He’s here."
On
her knees, Arissa's eyes drank in the sight of Richmond lying prone on the
rough slats of the wagon bed. At first, she simply couldn't comprehend what she
was seeing; it did not look like Richmond. His hair was long, his face sporting
several days growth of beard. Baffled, she peered closer to notice that he was
clad only in his lower body protection and his magnificent torso was naked but
for the heavy wrappings Mossy seemed to be adjusting.
Arissa
was in limbo as she approached the still figure. She wondered why she couldn't
feel anything as she gazed down upon Richmond's still face, a face she had
loved for as long as she had been alive.
Somehow,
she managed to inch forward on the wagon bed, unaware that the earl,
Bartholomew, Gavan, and the rest of her tightly-knit family had suddenly
appeared at the edge of the rig, watching with the greatest sorrow as she came
to grips with Richmond's state. But she was not conscious of any of them; only
Richmond.