The Falls of Erith (25 page)

Read The Falls of Erith Online

Authors: Kathryn le Veque

Edgar
was standing up, his eyes big.  Gray looked into the blue orbs and could read a
thousand questions in their depths. He was a nice looking young lad,
inquisitive and spirited. And she also noticed he had a bruise on his cheek. 
Suddenly, her abduction adventure seemed far away. She was back where she
belonged and she was safe. She wondered at the bruise on Edgar’s cheek. She
suspected she knew how he got it. 

“Edgar,”
she reached out and touched the hot welt. “What happened?”

Edgar
blinked, looking like a child who just got caught raiding the sweets. “I… I
fell, my lady.”

“Did
you have help falling?”

“I
do not know what you mean, my lady.”

“Aye,
you do.  Who gave you that bruise?”

He
averted his eyes, his brow furrowed. He was struggling to give her an answer
but Gray already knew the answer. She looked at Brooke.

“Did
you do that?”

Brooke’s
eyes bulged. “I… I….”

Gray
shook her head. “Brooke Serroux, what is the matter with you? I told you to
leave him alone. Why did you strike him?”

Brooke
looked properly contrite, more panicked than anything else. She did not want to
lie, but she certainly did not want to tell her mother the truth. “Because…
because he said something rude and nasty and I punished him.”

“What
did he say?”

Brooke’s
eyes welled. “Don’t make me tell you, Mama. I don’t want to tell you.”

Gray
wondered what had her daughter so upset. But it had been an upsetting night.
Perhaps it really didn’t matter. She sighed again and shook her head, looking
around for the nearest stool.

“No
more, Brooke,” she told her daughter. “You will leave the punishment to
Braxton. If I seen another bruise or welt on this boy, I am going to bruise or
welt you. Is that clear?”

Brooke
sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Aye, Mama.”

Gray
found a stool next to Geoff and sat heavily. “Sit down and I’ll hear nothing
more from you. We will wait for Braxton to return.”

Brooke
sat down on the ground next to Edgar.  When Gray turned her attention to Geoff
to inspect his wound, Edgar stuck his tongue out at Brooke.  She pinched him.

 

***

 

Braxton
briefly inspected the worn bay charger as he thundered into camp. Someone had
tethered the animal to a tree.  Dallas was ahead of him and had already
dismounted, lifting up a hoof to inspect the shoes. As Braxton passed by, he
nodded to his liege.

“’Tis
the same shoe markings, my lord,” he told him.

Braxton
didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered on the weary beast.  Having been
located by one of his soldiers a quarter hour earlier, he had raced like a
madman to get back to camp. The lady was back and was apparently unharmed. That
was all he could focus on as he dismounted his charger and stormed into the
larger tent.

His
eyes struggled to acclimate themselves to the weak light. To his right were
Brooke and Edgar, sitting on the ground and apparently playing some sort of
game between them. He could see sticks laid out in patterns. Looking around, he
spied Gray kneeling over Geoff, her lovely face tense in concentration.  She
must have heard him, or at least sensed him, because she looked up and their
eyes met.  She bolted to her feet and they came together somewhere at midpoint
in the tent.

Her
arms were wound tightly around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder.
Braxton held her so tightly that he was certain he was squeezing the life from
her. It was the most amazing, satisfying embrace of his life.  Given the horror
of the past hour, he could hardly believe she was actually in his arms.

“Sweetheart,”
he breathed. “What happened?”

She
was weeping quietly, trying not to disturb the children too much. They were
already watching the reunion with big eyes and she had refrained from showing
any emotion in front of them up until this point. She hadn’t wanted to frighten
them any more than they already were.  But the sight of Braxton was enough to
dissolve her.

“Are
you all right?” she answered his question with a question. “You were hit so
very hard and…”

Her
hand was moving to the back of his head and he stopped her, taking her hand and
kissing it reverently. “I am well enough,” he told her. “But what happened? Who
took you?”

She
wiped at her tears. “De Aughton. He hit you over the head and carried me off.”

Braxton
didn’t know why the news did not surprise him. In fact, he had almost expected
to hear that although he was unsure why. All he knew was that he remembered how
the man had looked at her the night before.  He knew that hungry look.

“Did
he hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Nay.
But I had to gouge his eyes out to get away.”

He
lifted an eyebrow. “You gouged his eyes out?”

She
nodded. “I do not know where he was taking me, for he never said much at all.
We fought for such a long time, Braxton, I cannot even fathom how long. It seemed
like days.  I relaxed and let him believe that I had given up, but I hadn’t. He
relaxed, too. When he did, I shoved my fingers into his eyes so hard that he
fell right off his charger.”

Braxton
listened to her with complete, utter amazement. “My God,” he breathed. “And
then you stole his horse?”

She
nodded. “I had to make it back to you. Oh, Braxton, I was so frightened.”

“But
you are sure you are unharmed?”

“Aye.”

He
pulled her into his arms again, kissing her forehead, her temple, whispering
thanks to God that she was in one piece.  She was safe and well, and he allowed
those feelings to be his overriding thoughts for the moment. Were he to allow
himself to linger on de Aughton, he could very well explode the anger he was
trying so hard to bank.

Beyond
the relief, beyond the thanks, there was something inside him demanding
satisfaction. He could not help it. Niclas de Aughton had made a bold attempt
at taking something that belonged to another. Men these days were less likely
to do such things as had been the norm in ages past, but it did happen on
occasion.  Had de Aughton gotten her to a priest to marry her, she would have
legally belonged to him and there wouldn’t have been anything Braxton could
have done about it.  Except kill him, which he would have done without
question.

He
could not have the constant threat of de Aughton hanging over his head. He
wanted to find the man and punish him.

“Where
did you leave him?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t hear the menace in his voice.

Her
face was buried in his neck, burrowing, seeking comfort. “I am not exactly
sure. To the west of Milnthorpe, along the main road.  I traveled that road for
quite some time before coming to Milnthorpe. Then I recognized the town and
remembered where you had set up camp.”

He
snorted softly. “So you took the main road back here?”

“Aye.”

He
shook his head at the irony. “So that’s why I missed you. My men and I set off
to find you along every path and trail but the main road. We assumed that
whoever took you would not stay to the main highway.”

She
pulled her face from his neck, looking up at him. “And he did not. He went
through trees and fields, and I truthfully have no idea how we ended up where
we did. But I just stayed to the road because I did not know what else to do. I
figured that if I kept heading east, I would eventually run into a town. I was
just fortunate that it was Milnthorpe.”

He
cupped her face in his big hands, smiling gently at her. He kissed her nose,
her lips, listening to Brooke giggle off to his right. He turned around and
looked at the girl.

“What’s
so funny?” he demanded lightly.

Brooke
grinned, looking a good deal like her mother as she did. “You kiss my mother
the way I have seen women kiss their children.”

“Is
that so?” he asked. “And how is that?”

Brooke
wrinkled her nose. “Little baby pecks.  Like you are trying to kiss her to
death.”

Braxton
glanced at Gray and they exchanged grins.  He dropped his hands from her and
faced Brooke. “I am simply glad to have her back safely, as you should be.”
When the girl nodded her head, he turned for the tent flap. “Now, I have some
things to attend to. Edgar, keep tight watch over the ladies.”

The
young lad nodded sharply.  With a lingering glance at Gray, who had settled
herself back at Geoff’s side, Braxton exited the tent and found Dallas standing
over by the massive fire.

The
men huddled together. Now that Dallas was to marry Brooke, their relationship
had somehow deepened. There was a kinship forming that did not exist before. 
Now, they were to become family and Braxton was more comforted, more pleased,
than he realized. Dallas would be a fine son-in-law.

“It
was de Aughton,” he told his knight in a low voice. “Gray said she left him to
the west of Milnthorpe somewhere along the road. Since she took his horse, he would
have to travel on foot but, I would suspect, his inclination is not to travel
back to Milnthorpe. He has to know she would return to me and I would come
looking for him.”

Dallas
nodded. They were joined by Graehm, having just come from inspecting Niclas’s
big bay charger. “Arnside is a town around five miles to the east of
Milnthorpe,” Dallas said. “He could have gone there instead.”

“Or
to any number of little villages to the south,” Braxton countered. “Organize
the men into groups of four. Send a group to Arnside, Milnthorpe, and have the
rest spread out over the countryside. Leave no stone unturned. I would have
them report back to me by late tomorrow, whether or not they find anything. But
tell them a bounty will be given to the men that find him.  I want this man
located and brought back to me.”

Dallas
nodded smartly and was gone. Braxton watched him march across the dim
encampment, fading into the shadows. He turned to Graehm.

“You
will find me a priest,” his voice was quiet. “Bring the man here posthaste and
pay him well for his trouble.”

Graehm
blanched. “Is Geoff…?”

Braxton
cut him off. “No, not for last rites. For a marriage. Actually, two.”

Graehm’s
eyebrows lifted slightly but he obeyed, disappearing into the darkness to
collect his charger. With his men on the move, Braxton went back to the tent
and stuck his head in through the door.

“Gray,”
he called softly. “A word, please.”

She
rose from her position next to Geoff and obediently went to him. He pulled her
gently outside, under the blanket of stars that spread across the sky. It was a
lovely night in spite of everything that had gone on. He crossed his big arms,
facing her as the firelight flickered off his features.

“Surely
you understand that with de Aughton’s threat, the event of marriage is even
more important than ever,” he said quietly. “I have sent Graehm to find a
priest. Before this night is out, your daughter will be married to Dallas and
you shall be married to me.”

There
was no longer any hesitation or reluctance in Gray’s expression. She had
learned to trust Braxton completely. “Then I must tell my daughter she is to be
a bride,” she said softly.

He
nodded. “Would you like for me to tell her?”

Gray
shook her head. “Thank you, but no.  This is something I must do.”

He
gave her a wink, a supportive gesture, and followed her back into the tent.
While he took up station next to Geoff, Gray took Brooke out into the night to
tell her of her future. He was not surprised, moments later, to hear the young
girl weep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
TWELVE

 

“He
must have turned back for Milnthorpe,” Constance said. “There could be no other
explanation, my lord. When your men told him who had come to Erith, naturally,
he would do everything possible to keep my daughter and granddaughter from you.
He has claimed them as his possessions, I tell you.”

Roger
sat in the great hall of Erith. The fire in the heart spit and smoked, filling
the room with silver haze. It was sunset, the end of a long day. He had been
informed some time earlier that a party had approached and a man had entered
the bailey, demanding to know who bore the colors of the blue and white
standard.  Then the man and his party had turned away from Erith and made haste
in the direction they had come.  Only curiosity, rumors, and an eventual conversation
with Lady Constance had made sense of the visitor.  It had not been a pleasing
realization.

Roger
eyed the Lady de Montfort seated across from him, toying with his wooden cup of
cheap wine as he did so. There were a great many things on his mind.

“Braxton
de Nerra,” he rolled the name off his tongue. “You failed to inform me when I
arrived that he was involved with this.”

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