Kathryn Le Veque (22 page)

Ovier looked at Alisanne and they smiled at each other. “It wasn’t
such a miracle, as the lady will tell you,” he said.
 
Then he took her hand and led her over to
Roane. “Now, you two must flee. I only have a few flaming projectiles left and
I intend to use those on any Hospitallers that attempt to follow you.
 
It will bring great joy to my life, you know;
burning up Hospitallers.
 
I have not had
such fun in years.”

Roane laughed softly as he helped Alisanne mount a leggy brown
steed.
 
Weak and weary and cold as he
was, he nonetheless had the strength of the angels as he mounted behind
her.
 
He was at the end of a horrible
three year journey and all he could see on the horizon was the joy of a wife
and children and a limitless future.
 
All
he could see was hope.

“Burn up enough of them to help us get far away,” he told Ovier.
“We shall be in your debt.”

Ovier simply waved them on as they spurred the horses through the
trees and out into the road beyond.
 
His
smile faded as he watched the group disappear into the mist, wondering if,
indeed, their paths would be smooth from now on.
 
He hoped so; it seemed as if they had
suffered through so much together, the knight accused of Heresy and the lady
with the eye disease.
 
He prayed their
journey in life from this point on would be a smooth one.

    
Ovier was disappointed when he didn’t get
to burn up any more Hospitallers that day because none seemed terribly apt to
pursue Roane and his rescuers.
 
With
Bordeleaux dead, there was anarchy and confusion in the air, so he saved his projectiles
for another time.
 

Mayhap to use on a day he was feeling particularly ornery.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In the late evening and after the flight from Clavell Hill, Roane,
Alisanne, Bowen and his army ended up in the berg of Stafford, a larger town
where it was a relatively simple thing to hide an eight hundred man army.
 
Bowen broke his men up into three separate
armies to better conceal them rather than in one great mass. If the
Hospitallers decided to march against Coniston’s army, it would be less clear
to them who, exactly, the enemy was if they were to only find smaller armies
and not one big one.
 
Bowen was done with
the engagement and he wanted to keep it that way.

While his men camped all within a few miles of each other and
enjoyed massive sides of beef that Bowen had purchased from a local farmer,
Bowen and Roane had found lodgings in a large tavern called the Skull and
Sickle on the edge of town. Joseph Ari was with them as was Albert, with a
shoulder wound,
who
had caught up to them and had
spent the evening being tended by a local physic.
 
In the early morning hours, he too slept
heavily.

The inn was two-storied and of newer construction. At the rough,
stained table that sat in front of the smoldering hearth in the great room,
Roane sat with Bowen and Joseph Ari in the early morning hours before people
began to seriously stir for the day. In fact, there were several travelers
strewn about the room, sleeping with their meager possessions, but Roane and
Bowen and Joseph Ari paid them no mind.
 
They were enjoying a loaf of fresh, hot bread, butter, a warm brew made
from lavender, apple juice, wine dregs, and cinnamon, and the first peace
they’d known in weeks.
 
It was like the
calm after the storm.

“After the frenzy of yesterday, it still seems hard to believe
that I am finally free,” Roane said as he sipped his brew. “Even as I sit here
now in the peace and darkness of the dawn, I still feel edgy somehow, as if
expecting Bordeleaux to burst through the door at any moment.”

Joseph Ari, with a huge bruise on his cheek and a bandaged left
hand, also sipped at his brew.
 
There
were big dark circles around his eyes. “You spent many years living in fear of
the man,” he said quietly. “You cannot expect to overcome what has become your
nature overnight.
 
Those feelings will
fade with time.”

Roane shrugged faintly. “I suppose,” he said. “It still seems
odd.
 
Peace
seems odd. I’ve not known much of it.”

Bowen was chewing on his bread.
 
“You will,” he said. “As the priest said, you
must give it time. You will live with me at Gargrave until you decide what to
do with your life. I can use you, Roane. ‘Twould be my greatest joy to have my
brother back in the fold, the most powerful knight our family has ever
produced. I would be proud.”

Roane glanced at him, smiling faintly. “I certainly cannot return
to Alisanne’s home, Kinlet Castle,” he said, sighing. “That belongs to de
Vere.”

Bowen picked at his bread.
 
“What do you intend to do about that situation?” he asked the question
they were all wondering. “She is married to another man, Roane.
 
What are you going to do?”

Roane sat back in his chair; he’d been contemplating that for the
better part of the night.
 
When he wasn’t
sleeping like the dead, short as it had been
,
he had
been pondering his future with Alisanne.
 
He didn’t like that they would be living in sin, living and loving as
though they belonged together before God and the law, even though she was
married to another.
 
He wanted her
married to
him
.

“I wonder where de Vere even is now,” he muttered. “Albert said he
sent the man off on a fool’s chase when he came to Clavell Hill on the hunt for
Alisanne, knowing she would have come to me.
 
He could be half way to London by now in the hunt for her.”

Joseph Ari grunted.
 
“He is
not
that
much of a fool,” he said.
“He managed to hold my brother and
I
hostage, force
Alisanne to act as bait to draw you out, capture you, and then marry Alisanne
to collect the barony.
 
Don’t count him
out, Roane.
 
He will eventually figure
out that he has been duped by false information and when he does, he will
return to Clavell Hill in search of you and in search of Alisanne. Mark my
words; men like Dodge de Vere do not give up. They are dangerous.”

As Roane reluctantly conceded the point, Bowen spoke. “And he is
your lady’s husband,” he reiterated quietly. “I asked you once before but you
did not answer –
what
are you going
to do?”

Roane was contemplative a moment as he pondered that serious
dilemma. “According to Alisanne, they never consummated the marriage,” he said.
“If the marriage has never been completed in every sense of the word, then
mayhap it can be annulled. Moreover, they were married by a Hospitaller and not
an ordained priest of the Catholic Church. If the Church does not recognize the
marriage, then it is not valid.”

Bowen nodded.
 
“Excellent
point,” he said. “We must find out.
 
There is a priest in Gargrave whom I know well. We will ask him when we
return.”

Roane liked that idea; it gave him hope. “I am most anxious to get
her within the safety of Gargrave’s walls,” he said, reflecting on the
childhood home he’d not seen in many years. “It will be good to go home.”

Bowen looked at his brother; he’d not had much time to talk to him
yesterday in the midst of their harrowing adventure, but now that the situation
was relatively calm, he looked forward to coming to know the man again.
 
Much had happened in the past fourteen years.

“Things have changed since last you were there,” he said, draining
the last of his brew.
 
“To begin with, I
married about ten years ago.
 
I have four
sons and the eldest two are fostering at Newcastle. You will like my wife,
Roane; Estelle is a wonderful woman. Half-Spaniard, you know.
 
When we argue, she screams at me in Spanish
and I cannot understand a word of it. It makes it easier to walk away.”

Roane grinned. “Congratulations on your marriage and your sons,”
he said, lifting his cup to him. “I, too, hope to have such fortune when
Alisanne and I marry. I hope to be the father of many sons.”

Bowen tipped his cup against his brother’s, accepting his
accolades.
 
“Speaking of father,” he
said, “how did Alisanne take the news of her father? Surely you told her.”

Roane’s warm expression faded. “I had to,” he said, toying with
his cup and looking somewhat saddened. “When Joseph Ari caught up to us last
night, and Albert subsequently found us, she became almost frantic for news of
her father and I had to tell her.
 
She
wept hysterically until I plied her with enough wine to put her to sleep.
 
She is sleeping still.
 
She is exhausted.”

“Can you tell me what happened to my brother?” Joseph Ari wanted
to know; his expression was wrought with sorrow.
 
“All I was told is that he died but I was not
told how.”

Roane looked at him. “Edward became very ill while in captivity
with me,” he said, his tone laced with sympathy. “Whatever affected him settled
in his
chest.
He could not breathe and he ran a fever
for days. In the end, it was just too much for him.
 
I held him as he died and promised to take
care of you and of Alisanne.
 
I believe I
was able to give him comfort.”

Joseph Ari nodded with some gratitude and averted his gaze. He was
close to tears and did not want Roane or Bowen to see his weakness. He was
exhausted like the rest of them, bruised and battered, and his brother’s death
weighed heavily upon him. But he was pleased they had at least managed to free
Roane and collect Alisanne.
 
So much of
their objective at Clavell Hill could have gone wrong and, for the most part,
all of it turned out for the best.
 
Except for Edward’s death; Joseph Ari knew it was going to take some
time to come to terms with it.
 
He knew
it would take Alisanne time, too.

“Then I thank you for what you were able to do for him,” Joseph
Ari said as he cleared his throat. “His only thought would have been for
Alisanne’s safety and you have seen to that. He would be grateful.”

Roane watched the man struggle with his emotions. “And you, Joseph
Ari?” he asked softly. “What do you intend to do now that Edward is gone and
Kinlet Castle is in the hands of an idiot?”

Joseph Ari lifted his head, smiling weakly. “I thought to come
with you wherever you go,” he said. “I can still lift a sword.”

Roane reached out and put a hand on his slumped shoulder. “You and
I have had many adventures together, have we not?” he said, a twinkle in his
eye. “Mayhap we will have a few more before we are forced to give up our swords
and live our lives as old men.”

As they laughed softly, the door to the inn flew open and loud,
noisy men spilled forth.
 
In fact, they
were so loud that most of the sleeping bodies in the great room began to stir,
disturbed by the cold rush of air and the booming voices.
 
Abruptly, the peaceful conversation that Roane
and Bowen and Joseph Ari were having was interrupted by rude and boisterous
men.
  

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence.
 
Taverns were full of irritable and loud travelers. But this group was
different; there was something about them that made Roane
take
a second look. He was sitting with his back to the wall and facing the door, watching
the knights as they began to remove their gloves and helmets. His gaze lingered
on the group a moment before, gradually, he began to stiffen.
 
His eyes narrowed and his hands tensed up.
 
Bowen saw his reaction and eyed him
curiously.

“What?” he wanted to know. “What is the matter?”

Roane didn’t take his eyes off the group commandeered a couple of
tables and began to sit.

“De Vere,” he hissed, hateful sound of unimaginable hazard.
“Christ, that’s
him!
”

Bowen’s head snapped around to the knights now settling in and
calling for food.
 
He counted at least
eight of them as they banged on tables and kicked sleeping men aside.

“I thought he was off chasing rumors?” he whispered loudly.
“Didn’t your Hospitallers friend say he was off running wild?”

Roane nodded sharply. “He did,” he said. “But for some reason, he
has returned.
 
God’s
Blood… of all the damnable luck.”

“Stay calm, Roane,” Joseph Ari instructed coolly. “Do not do
anything to attract their attention, at least not until we can arm ourselves.”

Roane simply shook his head, the irony of the situation not lost
on him. “I cannot believe what my eyes are telling me,” he muttered. “Mayhap it
is as you said – mayhap the man realized he was chasing phantoms and is
returning to Clavell Hill to resume his search for Alisanne.
But
why this tavern, in this town?
There are so many others he could have
gone to.”

Bowen wasn’t going to wait to find out.
 
He stood up swiftly and brushed past his
brother. “I am going for more men and weapons,” he muttered quickly. “Keep your
head down until I return. Do not let him see you. Roane, do you understand me?”

“I understand you.”

Roane’s heart was thumping against his ribs as his brother fled
the room, apprehension filling his veins.
 
He wasn’t frightened, but he was
concerned.
 
This was an unexpected and
wholly unwelcome occurrence.
 
However, as
he sat in the shadow of the hearth and watched Dodge smack the innkeeper, he
began to think that mayhap it was a very fortuitous occurrence.
 

Before him was the man who stood between him and Alisanne’s
marriage. He was the obstacle, the barrier that needed to be removed.
 
Moreover, the man before him was the one who
had turned him over to the Hospitallers so they could execute him for false
charges.
 
Dodge de Vere had tried to kill
him in every sense of the word.
 
He was
very dangerous, and rather than run from danger, Roane would face it.
 
He would face it and triumph.
 
Roane had to eliminate the very threat to his
life.

Aye, it was vengeance. It was
wholly
vengeance. But it was also for peace, for as long as Dodge de Vere lived, Roane
and Alisanne would never know peace, and Roane wasn’t going to live the rest of
his life as he had the past three years as a hunted animal.
 
Nay, he would end this now.

Fortunately, Dodge and his men were more interested in a morning
meal than they were their surroundings.
 
One inn was like another, sleeping drunkards and smelly walls, and they
delved into the bread and ale the innkeeper brought them with gusto.
 
Roane and Joseph Ari were able to sit back and
watch the men eat, scrutinizing every move they made and assessing just how
armed they were.
 
Each man seemed to have
numerous weapons on his body, which would be normal considering they had been
traveling.
 
Threats abound on the open
road.
  
As Roane began contemplating the
horrible death he had planned for Dodge, a small figure on the stairs off to
his right caught his attention.