Kingdom Come (56 page)

The missive was an interruption into their latest conversation as Kieran took it from his brother.

“Who is this from?” he asked before he looked at the seal, knowing that curious Andrew would have already inspected it.

But Andrew’s face showed no joy or curiosity with the missive. In fact, he looked rather hesitant and Kieran had no idea why until he uttered one word.

“John,” he said softly.

Kieran wasn’t so quick to panic; calmly, he inspected the seal and noted that it was indeed the prince’s mark.   There was no reason for him to be apprehensive as he slid his finger along the edge of the vellum to break the seal.

“He is probably demanding the diadem again,” he grunted. “This will make four such demands in the past year.  I have yet to respond to any of them.”

Andrew leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “He is having quite a tantrum, isn’t he?”

Kieran snorted in agreement as William spoke up. “The diadem of thorns?” he clarified.

Kieran nodded as the parchment popped open. “I told you he wants it badly,” he said. “He insists that it belongs to him.”

Old William simply rolled his eyes, reaching for his pewter chalice of ruby red port. “Everything belongs to him,” he muttered into his cup. “The entire world belongs to him. That is why we find ourselves in this predicament.”

Kieran grinned as he moved away from the table and began to read.  Andrew wasn’t paying attention to him, looking at the map table instead, until Kieran suddenly came to a halt somewhere near the lancet windows that flooded the room with cool white light.   As Andrew looked up at his brother, he noticed that the man seemed to have lost his coloring.   Concerned, Andrew pushed himself off the wall.

“Kieran?” he ventured. “What does it say?”

Kieran’s hand was over his mouth as the other held the missive, now shaking.  He turned away from the window, eyes still glued to the parchment, and ended up stumbling back against the wall when he tried to walk.  His reaction had Andrew moving to him and William out of his seat.

“Kieran?” Andrew pressed. “What is wrong?”

Kieran tore his eyes away from the missive and looked at his brother.  He couldn’t even speak; he simply extended the missive to Andrew. His brother took it, deeply concerned, and began to read. About half way through it, his eyes widened and he suddenly shouted.

“Bastard!” he yelled. “How… how in the hell did this happen?”

Kieran was almost beyond rational thought. He stood there with his hands to his mouth, his clear brown eyes wide with shock.  William, leaning heavily on his cane, moved to Kieran and put a concerned hand on the man’s shoulder.

“What has happened?” he asked quietly.

Kieran was trembling.  He took his hands away from his mouth, struggling to focus.  “The prince has sent me a missive to announce that he has my wife,” his voice was hoarse.

“Your wife?” William repeated. “Why does he have her?”

Kieran shook his head.  Then he snorted and dropped his chin to his chest, overwhelmed with the news. “The missive was another demand for the diadem, as I suspected,” he mumbled with great irony.  His great head came up. “But this time, it is John who holds the power to force me to comply; he proposes an exchange - my wife for the Diadem of Christ.”

Andrew was livid; he threw the parchment on the dusty wood floor of the chamber and stomped to the door like a madman.

“I shall gather the army, Kieran,” he announced. “We shall be ready to leave by sunset.”

Kieran could only nod as his brother stormed off, cursing to the rafters. They could hear him as he moved back down the stairs. William stood there with Kieran a moment before going to retrieve the fallen parchment.  He hobbled over with his cane and slowly reached down to pick up the missive. After reading it thoroughly, he set it to the table and passed a concerned glance at his young friend.

“He wants the diadem badly,” he commented. “I would not have suspected him to resort to this kind of treachery.”

“And why not?” Kieran half-muttered, half-demanded. “He is capable of worse.”

William knew that, perhaps better than anyone. “He says that he has taken her to Winchester,” he said, almost casually. “What do you intend to do?”

Kieran was struggling with his composure and his panic.  But he couldn’t hold it back entirely and sank into the nearest chair.  He put his hands over his face.

“How?” he breathed, removing his hands after a moment. “How did he get to her? Southwell is locked tight. There is no way he could have gotten inside to get her. And what of my son? Where is he? He does not mention my son.”

“He does not mention him because he does not have him,” William was trying to reassure him. “He would have said so. You know John well enough to know that he would gloat.”

Kieran was sick to his stomach, feeling more anguish than he ever thought possible.

“Dear God… Libby,” he breathed, raking his fingers through his hair nervously. “How did John get to her? Why did I have to hear this from him and not my father? Where has my father been during all of this?”

William could see how devastated Kieran was, which was something of a shock considering that Kieran was the strongest man he knew.  He had spent the past month hearing of Kieran’s wife and child, a woman he clearly loved and a child he worshiped.  He’d known Kieran for years and had never seen the man so happy or strong. This latest missive was a blow and William could see that Kieran was struggling not to crumble.

“Your father must have a good reason,” he said, trying to sound firm. “Get hold of yourself, man. You will be of little help to your wife if you fall apart. She needs your level head.”

Kieran glanced up at the old man, knowing his words were true. But it was easier said than done.  Still, he had a point and the more Kieran thought on it, the more enraged he became.  It shifted his focus off of his devastation and spurred him into action. He suddenly bolted from the chair, almost knocking William off his feet. He reached out to steady the old man apologetically, but William did nothing more than wave him off.

“I have been shoved aside by better men than you,” he quipped, a grin on his old lips.  He could see Kieran’s expression soften in appreciation and he gave him a gentle shove. “Go and do what must be done. I will be here when you return.”

Kieran nodded, suddenly looking hesitant and sorrowful. “The diadem…,” he said. “As much as I revere Richard, my wife’s life is worth more to me. I am afraid that I must retract my offer of the diadem for Richard’s ransom.”

William nodded. “I knew that your offer was rescinded the moment you read John’s missive,” he replied. “Moreover, we do not yet know if Richard has been kidnapped. We’ve not received a ransom demand yet.”

Kieran thought back to everything his wife had told him, events that were now coming to past. “You will,” he muttered. “When you do, I will provide fifty thousand crowns for his return. Remember that.”

“Fifty thousand crowns?” William repeated, incredulous. “Are you so certain of this, Kieran?”

Kieran nodded. “Do not ask me how I know because you would not believe me,” he put a giant hand on the old man’s shoulder. “I will contribute what I can towards the king’s release. But for now, I must go retrieve my wife. That is my more pressing task.”

“Go,” William ordered softly. “Give John what he wants and regain your lady.”

Kieran simply nodded, his mind moving in a thousand different directions.  The diadem, the very reason he believed that he and Rory had been returned to his time, was going to be used for a purpose unlike any they had envisioned.  The path they were on was taking an odd and unpleasant turn.

Descending the Tower stairs, he ran into Andrew again as he neared the entry level.  Andrew had, in his hand, a missive from Jeffrey Hage. It had just arrived, minutes after the missive from John . Kieran didn’t have to guess what it said; he already knew.   At least he thought he did. With shaking hands, he opened it.

When he read the part describing Tevin’s safety and constant appetite, he openly wept.

***

Winchester Castle had been built in 1067, a year after William the Conqueror had taken control of England. It had been the seat of government for quite some time until the government was moved to London, so it was a strong and well-historied castle.  It was also impenetrable, dank, gloomy and cold, smelling of dirt and rot and ghosts.  It was a horrid and creepy place.

It had been Rory’s home for almost two weeks.   As she sat by a thin lancet window, gazing into the cloudy countryside beyond, her dulled mind mulled over the past thirteen days and what had brought her to this point. 

When she’d realized the prince intended to abduct her, she had turned into a wildcat.  She’d tried to escape and ended up slugging it out with the Bud look-alike knight, a man who was strong and muscular for his average frame.   But the man had finally subdued her and had taken her to another tent, where he tied her up and left her sitting on wet grass for the remainder of the night.  When the army had pulled out at dawn, she had gone with them. But it had been kicking and screaming the entire way.

Traveling with Kieran, in spite of the primitive conditions, had been a cake-walk compared to traveling as a prisoner of the prince.  The ropes she had been tied with irritated her damp skin and she had ridden in the back of a wagon, tied up, for days. The only time she was untied was to allow her to eat and relieve herself, and then she was tied right back up again.The welts around her wrists were bleeding and, she was sure, were becoming infected.  More than that, she traveled in the clothes she had been captured in and although they were well made and fine clothing, they weren’t holding up well over the days of travel. By the time they reached Winchester, they were damp, dirty and reeking.  Rory had never been so miserable in her entire life.

At Winchester, she was locked in a room in the oddly shaped keep, an extremely small chamber with a stool in it, a filthy disgusting vessel she assumed was a chamber pot, and nothing else.  It was horrifying beyond belief. But she was grateful that they had at least untied her; the wounds around her wrists and ankles were in various degrees of irritation and she had a nice infection going on her right ankle.

With no antibiotic, she was very concerned that the infection would rage out of control.  When they brought her food on the second night of her arrival at Winchester, it included a big loaf of yeasty bread.  She soaked the bread in the wine that accompanied the meal and applied it to the wound, hoping the alcohol and bread would kill whatever was breeding on her skin. It didn’t cure it but it seemed to ease it.

Oddly, the prince had stayed away from her. From everything she’d read about the man, she had expected a daily rape attempt. But he’d stayed away and she was very curious as to why; thankful at the reprieve, but nonetheless curious. When her thoughts weren’t full of fear for the prince’s appearance at any moment, they were centered around Tevin and Kieran.

She wept almost hourly for the baby.  Although Tevin had started eating solid food, he was still nursing and she was deeply fearful and concerned over his health. Never mind that her breasts had been painfully engorged for about a week before finally drying up; her little boy was without her and she missed him with wild desperation.

But one thought kept her sane; she knew Margaret and knew the woman would stop at nothing to ensure that Tevin remained happy and healthy. That was a great comfort to her, knowing he was undoubtedly very well taken care of.  But almost more than her fears and concerns for Tevin were her fears and concerns for Kieran. She knew that the prince had sent word to him of her abduction and she knew that Kieran was more than likely already on his way to Winchester to negotiate her release. She was vastly fearful for her husband, knowing he would move heaven and earth to rescue her, including giving up the Diadem of Christ. There was no doubt in her mind that Kieran would hand it right over. She sincerely hoped it would be that simple to gain her release, but somehow, she didn’t think so.  Something told her to expect the worst.