Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thetford Castle

Three days after the siege at Spexhall– Early October

O blivious to the charge against Thunderbey that Edmund de Mandeville was masterminding, Drake was focused on the return to Thetford before his ride north to rendezvous with Edward. He never knew he could be sad to see the great rise of Thetford Castle as it dominated the countryside in the distance, but the truth was that he was disappointed to see it. It meant that his time with Elizaveta was coming to a close and he was loath to realize that. The time was coming for his departure to rendezvous with Edward and as much as he didn’t want to face it, he knew he had to come to terms with his orders. Time was growing short and he knew he could not delay. Therefore, he would have to face the farewell he was dreading.

It was odd, truly. He’d left for battle many times, and happily so, but he’d never left someone who meant a great deal to him behind like this. Certainly, he’d left his mother and father, but leaving Elizaveta was different. It was something he simply didn’t want to face. He didn’t want to leave her just as he was coming to know her. And adore her.

… aye, adore her.

It was a terrifying and thrilling thought. Did he truly adore her? Or was it something more, something greater and deeper that he didn’t want to voice, not this soon? Anything was possible, in his mind. Elizaveta and Daniella were riding in his mother’s carriage a few feet behind him and he kept turning to glance at his wife, who would smile bravely at him. Her smile made his heart jump. She had been smiling confidently at him since they’d departed Spexhall the day before, a day where she had been far more courageous than he had been. It had been a day to remember, a day of sorrow but a day of preparation. They were all preparing for what the future would bring, like it or not.

The morning after the battle against the de Mandeville army, the missive that Elizaveta had written to her mother had been sent off by messenger. Once the rider was off, Elizaveta turned into the efficient chatelaine, packing up the keep she had so recently moved into. With Daniella’s help, she managed to re-pack trunks and bags and have everything loaded back up into the carriages.

Elizaveta didn’t want to leave anything behind, not knowing how long it would be before they returned, so essentially everything was packed up and the keep cleaned out. There was almost a frenzy to her movements, as if keeping busy kept her mind off what was to come, and it was something that didn’t go unnoticed by Drake. Even so, it wasn’t something he felt that he could speak with her about. He didn’t even know where to start. So he simply let her have her way with it. He went about his business and permitted her to go about hers.

There was certainly a desperation to her movements although Elizaveta couldn’t tell Drake the reasons behind it and she was glad he didn’t ask. She couldn’t tell him of the fear and guilt that drove her frenzied pace, that the orders of a vengeful, old women were behind everything. She knew he was keeping his eye on her as she went about her duties and she found it both comforting and distressing. What if he could see into her heart and know what she had done? But he couldn’t, and she knew that, but it didn’t help the guilt. All she could do was try to force it out of her mind and get on with her business.

The army was ready to depart before the packing in the keep was finished, which meant that it was time for Cortez and James to return to Sherborne Castle. Cortez and James bid farewell to Drake and to the others, and told Elizaveta that if Drake ever misbehaved, all she need do is tell them and they would rush to her defense. Elizaveta was flattered and touched by their words even though she knew they were only jesting. It seemed that the men had a very easy rapport, all of them, and jesting and insults were part of that. She was thrilled to feel included in that banter; included in something she had never been a part of– camaraderie. It was true that she’d seen it among knights before but she had never experienced it for herself.

These are the men I am going to betray.

More and more, she could not get the burden of treachery out of her mind as much as she tried. Before she had passed her missive off that morning to the rider headed for Romford in search of her mother and grandmother, Elizaveta reconsidered sending it at all. She’d never been keen on spying on her English husband but now that she was coming to know the men she would actually be betraying, her sense of rebellion against her grandmother burned stronger and stronger.

As the messenger had waited impatiently, Elizaveta had struggled with her sense of duty. What if she didn’t send the missive? What if she never sent a missive to her grandmother? Would the woman truly send out assassins? The same answer came to her every time– she couldn’t fully trust that grandedame would not . An assassin after her father would only catapult Drake into the position of Earl of East Anglia sooner than expected, but an assassin after her or after Drake personally… nay, Elizaveta couldn’t be sure her grandmother wouldn’t do such a thing, so in a sense, she was actually protecting Drake.

But it was a sick thought. She wasn’t protecting him at all.

She was deceiving him.

So the missive for Lady Agnes du Reims took off for Romford upon the hooves of a swift stallion as Elizaveta struggled not to vomit, her nerves getting the better of her. The only thing she could do was focus on her duties for their journey to Thetford and pray that the missive she just sent never made it to her grandmother. She had done her duty, but if the missive never made it, she had no control over that. She prayed harder than she ever had that the missive would never reach Mabelle, but then again, if Mabelle never received it, the assassins might come.

Elizaveta was a woman torn.

But she put those thoughts aside after Cortez and James left as she returned to her packing. Drake and Devon were in and out of the keep, pretending they were helping their wives when they were really only getting in the way. Drake kept finding excuses to enter the keep, only to corner his wife in a chamber and kiss her passionately until Daniella or Devon would come around and break up the heated clinch.

The rest of the morning had been spent in those pursuits, stolen kisses and gentle touches, but they’d somehow managed to get everything loaded and had finally departed Spexhall late in the day. For the two days traveling upon the road, Drake had been attentive and sweet and endearing. As they traveled, it was easier for Elizaveta to forget the missive and focus on the here and now, the delight of a new husband who clearly adored her. Even now as they neared the city of Thetford in the distance, those sweet moments were all Elizaveta could think of. She’d only known such foreplay for a few days at most but she knew she would miss it dreadfully when Drake left for Scotland. She would miss him dreadfully.

The rains had come the night before, soaking the ground, and the mud was thick in places. The carriage had gotten stuck twice within full view of the village of Thetford and it had taken several men to help push it out. It had given Elizaveta the opportunity to see Drake again, as he would rein his big rouncey over to the carriage, leap off of it, and get behind the thing to shove. He always got as close to Elizaveta has he could during these times and she would make eye contact with him, smiling at him as he smiled in return. Even in the middle of the road, in the middle of a mud puddle, Drake would find the opportunity to flirt with her. It was a thrilling occurrence.

The devilish mud finally gave way and they made it to Thetford Castle before another thunderstorm rolled in from the east. Black clouds began gathering overhead just as the carriage pulled into the vast collection of berms that was the bailey of Thetford Castle, only to discover that Davyss de Winter was staging his army. Davyss was in the bailey, in fact, the expression on his face quite clearly wondering why Drake and Devon had returned from Spexhall and brought their army with them. His confusion was great until Devon came across his father first and began to inform the man of Edward’s order. Then, Davyss seemed to gain some understanding.

Meanwhile, the rolling-berm bailey was filling with a flood of men, all of them sloshing about in the puddles, trying to keep supplies and weapons dry. While Devon spoke with his father, Drake dismounted his fussy steed and approached the carriage with the women in it. He helped Daniella from the carriage first before assisting Elizaveta, who slid easily into her husband’s arms. Daniella had to walk across the mud of the bailey, quite unhappily, while Drake carried his wife towards the hall.

“Dev!” Drake roared at his brother. “You had better assist your wife before she has fits right in the middle of the bailey!”

Elizaveta, arms around Drake’s neck, watched over his shoulder as Daniella stood in the center of the bailey, surrounded by mud puddles, and growled for her husband. She giggled as Devon left his father and rushed to the woman’s side as if fearful of what would happen if he didn’t.

“I have never seen Devon move quite so quickly,” she said. “Dannie bellows and he runs to her side.”

Drake grinned. “Why do you laugh?” he asked. “I do the same thing when you bellow.”

Elizaveta looked at him, a smile tugging on her lips. “I do not bellow.”

“You bellow with your eyes. I can tell just by looking at you.”

Her grin broke through. “Is that so?” she asked. “We have only been married these few days and already you know when I am bellowing at you with my eyes? Most curious.”

He lifted his eyebrow seriously. “All women bellow with their eyes,” he said. “My mother does it all of the time. All she has to do is look at my father and he knows exactly what she is thinking. I will admit that I’ve not yet had much practice with you, but I am learning.”

“Do you fear me, then?”

“More than Lucifer himself.”

Elizaveta laughed as he brought her into the hall of Thetford and carefully sat her on her feet. “I am not sure if I should be offended by that or not,” she said. “You just compared me to the Devil.”

Drake was fighting off a smile at this point. “I did not,” he said, holding up a cautioning finger. “I said I feared you more than I feared Lucifer. I did not say you were Lucifer.”

Elizaveta shook her head reproachfully at him and began pulling off her gloves. “I will have to trust you on that very fine point,” she said, looking around the nearly vacant hall. “I wonder where your mother is?”

Drake looked outside of the hall entry, into the bailey. “She is more than likely in the keep but I am sure she will come running when she sees her carriage returned,” he said. “Can you entertain yourself whilst I go and speak with my father? As much as I hate to leave you, I must, if only for a few moments.”

Elizaveta cocked her head thoughtfully. “You may leave under one condition.”

“What is that?”

“You must kiss me before you go.”

Drake threw his arms around her so quickly that he startled her. “Gladly,” he said seductively, nuzzling her cheek before kissing it. “Is that what you had in mind?”

Elizaveta giggled, swept up in his warmth and charm. “Is that the best you can do?”

His answer was to slant his mouth over hers, hungrily. Elizaveta clung to him, her fingers is his dark hair, as his lips ravaged her. He finally drew away, leaving her breathless.

“That,” he said hoarsely, “is the best I can do. May I see to my father now?”

Elizaveta nodded, struggling to catch her breath. “You may.”

He smiled again and kissed her firmly before letting her go. “I will return.”

With that, he turned and quit the hall, leaving Elizaveta standing there fanning herself. Once she regained her breath, an enormous smile swept her lips and she made her way to the end of the feasting table, removing both gloves and setting them on the tabletop. As she fumbled with her cloak ties, Devon appeared carrying Daniella. He set his wife to her feet and begged his leave much as Drake had. Elizaveta was grinning at Daniella as the woman came towards her and Daniella burst into giggles.

“I think I must have scared him,” she said as she, too, removed her gloves. “Sometimes he is far too submissive.”

Elizaveta unfastened the cloak ties and removed it from her shoulders, laying it across the table. “I would rather have him submissive than not care a lick about me,” she said, looking around the hall. “I would love some watered wine or something else to drink. I am rather thirsty.”

Daniella looked around, too, as she pulled off her cloak, finally moving to the small door that led out to the kitchen yard and catching sight of a servant. She instructed the woman to bring them food and drink before turning back for the hall.

“Did you see all of the men when we entered the bailey?” she asked Elizaveta as she approached the table.

Elizaveta nodded. “I did, indeed,” she said. “Do you think that Lord Davyss received the same missive from Edward that Drake did?”

Daniella shrugged. “It is possible,” she said. “But it is more possible that they are returning to Norwich Castle. That is where the de Winters live, you know. It is either there or at Wintercroft near London, but mostly they live at Norwich. It is a very large place.”

Elizaveta tried to imagine the castle she had only been told of. “I have heard it is somewhat isolated,” she said. “Is there truth in this?”

Daniella nodded. “All of Norfolk is isolated,” she said. “No one likes to visit there. It is a haunted place with mad citizens, roaming the country in wild packs.”

Elizaveta was somewhat mortified by that suggestion. “Is that true?”

“It is not .”

The voice came from the hall entry and both women tuned to see Devereux entering the hall. She was looking at Daniella somewhat reproachfully. “You will frighten her with your ridiculous tales, Dannie,” she said, watching Daniella giggle. “You silly girl. There are no mad packs of citizens roaming the countryside unless one considers the de Winters moving between properties. We have been known to be mad on occasion. All that aside, welcome back to Thetford, my daughters.”

She kissed Elizaveta on the cheek because she was closer and even kissed Daniella when the woman was properly apologetic for slandering the denizens of Norfolk. Devereux took hold of Elizaveta’s arm companionably.

“I saw Drake in the bailey and he says that you will both be staying with me for a time,” she said. “I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear that. What a lovely time we shall have. I shall take you both to London and spoil you with shopping and food.”

Elizaveta liked the sound of that; no one had ever spoiled her with anything before. But it occurred to her that Lady de Winter said such things far too casually in the face of her sons leaving for battle.

“Did he tell you why, my lady?” she asked.

Devereux nodded. “He must attend Edward,” she said stoically. “He and Devon will return, have no fear. They are de Winters and de Winters always return home. Speaking of home, we are leaving your trunks upon the wagon for we are departing for Norwich Castle on the morrow. There is no use in unpacking if we are to be leaving soon.”

A servant woman entered the hall with a tray of food and drink, distracting them from their conversation. Lady de Winter ushered the woman over to the table and urged them to sit and refresh themselves, which they did.

All the while, however, Elizaveta kept looking to the hall entry, waiting for her husband to return. Knowing that their remaining time together was precious, she didn’t want to miss him any more than she had to. In the weeks and possibly months ahead, she would miss him quite enough.

If her missive to grandedame had the desired results, then she might miss him forever.

*

“Edward has asked for as many men as you can spare,” Drake said to his father as the angry clouds gathered overhead. “His missive states that he will take a large force up to Jedburgh to disrupt the meeting of the lowland lairds. He will need a great many men to make an incursion into Scotland.”

Davyss was listening to his eldest son closely. “I had not heard of that,” he admitted, moving aside as a loaded wagon rumbled past him. “Lowland lairds, you say?”

Drake nodded, pulling off a heavy, leather glove so he could scratch his sweaty forehead. “Edward wants prisoners,” he said. “He has it on good authority that there will be a meeting of clan chiefs close to the New Year and he intends to raid it as a fox would raid a chicken coop. He wants a prize or two.”

Davyss pondered the information. “Is that what his missive said?”

Drake shook his head. “His missive only said that I was to take eight hundred men and any men I could collect from you and ride north to Hexham where Edward is gathering his men,” he replied. “The rest of the information has come from William de Wolfe. I am certain you know the man.”

Davyss smiled at a memory. “I knew his grandfather,” he said. “I fought with him on occasion, although by the time I was knighted, he was an old man and his fighting days were mostly behind him. But even as an elderly man, there was no one finer in battle than The Wolfe. I miss him. I miss those days of glory.”

Drake caught sight of de Wolfe as the man brought up the rear of the army, bringing in the last few men. He pointed the knight out to his father. “That,” he said, “is de Wolfe. I am sure he would like to hear of his grandfather through your eyes. There aren’t many men left that have fought with William de Wolfe and the other great knights, like the de Shera brothers. Those elder de Shera brothers are still alive, are they not?”

Davyss nodded. “Alive and very old,” he said. “Their sons have gone on to continue the de Shera name. Odd; I have not thought of Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius in a very long time. I must send them a missive to make sure all is well with them. They were like brothers to me. Since your Uncle Hugh’s death… well, I should make sure my old friends are doing well.”

Drake clapped a hand on his father’s shoulder. It was a comforting gesture in that Davyss had brought up Hugh. That was always a sensitive subject for Davyss.

“Aye, you should,” he said. “But in the meanwhile, I need as many men as you can provide Edward. How many can you give me?”

Davyss fought off thoughts of his brother’s passing to focus on Drake’s question. “I have almost two thousand here,” he said. “I can give you at least one thousand to take with you and then I will send another two thousand from Norwich. Your mother and I are departing for Norwich tomorrow, in fact. As soon as I arrive, I will send the men on to Hexham.”

Drake was satisfied with the sizable force. “Excellent,” he said. “You should still have enough men left to adequately protect your properties.”

Davyss nodded. “Two thousand at Norwich, five hundred at Thetford, another fifteen hundred at Castle Acre,” he said thoughtfully. “I also have various troops scattered around at my smaller holdings, so I will not be left unprotected.”

Drake lifted his eyebrows, an ominous gesture. “That is good,” he said, “because I have more news still. Spexhall was a disaster when we arrived, Father. It would seem that the wife of the current garrison commander was a de Mandeville, the mortal enemies of the House of du Reims, and when she discovered Elizaveta was a du Reims, she tried to kill her.”

Davyss was shocked. “Is this true?” he gasped. “Your wife seemed well enough, although you did carry her to the hall. Is she badly hurt, then?”

Drake shook his head. “She is not hurt at all,” he said. “I carried her to keep her out of the mud. As for the de Mandeville woman, she did not fare as well. Not only did she try to kill my wife, but her husband, a knight loyal to Edward, turned his men against me and there was quite a battle until control was re-established. Father, you would not believe how our victory came about… Elizaveta was able to gain the upper hand on the de Mandeville woman and she used her to force the woman’s husband to surrender. Elizaveta was calm and collected… I have never seen such bravery in a woman, ever. Were it not for her, I do not know what would have happened.”

Davyss was grinning at his son as the man spoke, seeing the light of adoration and respect in his eyes for the woman he had married. It was most unexpected. “Is that so?” he said. “Then I am astonished to hear such a thing.”

Drake’s expression suggested the obvious. “As was I,” he said. “But that, unfortunately, was not the end of it. I executed the lady and her husband for the attempt on Elizaveta’s life and also for the attempt on mine. I sent their bodies back to Edmund de Mandeville as a warning, but he gathered his army and appeared at Spexhall the next day. With de Wolfe’s help, we were able to chase them off but they know a de Winter is now the heir to the earldom of East Anglia. I fear that they might turn their venom against you because of it and I want you to be prepared. You have never seen an army like this, Father. They do not fight like civilized men. They fight like barbarians.”

Davyss was listening to everything with intense interest. “I see,” he said pensively. “I have never had any dealings with the de Mandevilles being that they live to the south in Suffolk, but I shall be vigilant. Your brothers know a couple of the sons, however. I must make sure Denys and Dallan know they are not to be trusted.”

Drake couldn’t agree more. “Most definitely,” he said. “The knight I sent back to de Mandeville… he butchered the body and sailed it over the walls of Spexhall. It was a warning of his own, I am afraid.”

Davyss looked at Drake with some horror. “Good God,” he hissed. “Is this true?”

“It is.”

Davyss sighed heavily, unhappy with a threat such as that directed against them. “Then I will make sure we are very vigilant,” he said. “And it makes returning to Norwich critical. Nothing can penetrate those walls and I would much rather see my family there than at Thetford.”

Drake fell silent a moment, watching Devon and de Wolfe in conversation over near one of Thetford’s big berms.

“I have brought Elizaveta back to stay with you and mother while I am in Scotland,” he said quietly. “I think you will like her, Papa. She is a brave and witty woman. I have enjoyed coming to know her immensely.”

That statement had Davyss’ full attention even though Devon and de Wolfe were now heading in his direction. “I am coming to sense that,” he said, a hint of mirth in his tone. “I take it that this marriage is not so disagreeable to you, then?”

Embarrassed, Drake averted his gaze. “Not so much,” he answered. “If I do have to marry, then Elizaveta is most suitable. What happened to Summerlin, by the way? Did he find another groom for his daughter?”

Davyss snorted. “I have not heard from the man directly,” he said, “but I heard from a group of traveling minstrels that they had just come from her wedding. Do you remember the same minstrels that were supposed to be at your wedding? They had just come from the Summerlin festivities. Edward must have granted her a fine husband, indeed, because I’ve not heard from Lord Summerlin at all.”

Drake grinned. “That is excellent news,” he said. “At least you were able to keep an ally.”

Davyss stopped chortling and looked at his son. “No thanks to you,” he said, pretending to be angry. “I avoided Summerlin’s wrath in spite of you and now you bring the de Mandevilles down upon me. What am I to do with you, Drake?”

Drake knew his father wasn’t serious. Grinning, he put his arms around the man, hugging him tightly as Devon and de Wolfe came upon them. Devon was the first to speak.

“Father,” he said. “All of the men are inside the walls now and the gates are sealed. Did Drake tell you the rest of the story behind our appearance?”

Davyss nodded. “He filled in the holes that your explanation left out,” he said, his gaze moving to the big knight next to him. He simply looked at him a moment before speaking. “You are William de Wolfe?”

De Wolfe nodded. “I am, my lord,” he said. “It is an honor to meet the legendary Davyss de Winter. I was raised on stories of your valor.”

Davyss’ lips flickered with a grin as he studied the knight. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is that, my lord?”

“You are not William de Wolfe,” he said, jest in his tone. “I knew the man and you are most definitely not him. Oh, you look like him. You look like him a great deal, actually, so I will concede that you are of his bloodlines. But you are not The Wolfe.”

Drake and Devon broke down into soft laughter, causing de Wolfe to grin. “I swear to you that my name is William de Wolfe, my lord,” he said rather pleadingly. “I am named for my grandfather. My own father is Scott de Wolfe, William’s eldest son. I promise that William is my name.”

As Drake and Devon snorted, Davyss shook his head. “There is only one William de Wolfe,” he said flatly. “You are simply a cub. Do you fight like your grandfather, too?”

“I am told that I do, my lord.”

“Impossible. No one fights like him.”

Now William was starting to laugh. “What can I do to prove to you that I am who I say I am?”

Davyss glanced at his giggling sons. “As I said, I believe you are a de Wolfe,” he said. “You look like one. You can prove that you are truly The Wolfe’s grandson by going to Scotland with these two cackling hens and using your sword to protect them. I worry over my sons as I am sure your father worries over you.”

De Wolfe nodded smartly. “I will lay down my life for them, if necessary.”

Davyss shook his head. “I pray it will not come down to that,” he said, the mood somewhat dampening. There was awe in Davyss’ tone when next he spoke. “Would you like to hear of your grandfather from someone who fought with him, William?”

De Wolfe nodded eagerly. “I would, my lord,” he said. “I would be grateful for anything you can tell me.”

Davyss motioned the knights to follow. “Then let us retreat into the hall and share refreshments,” he said. “I will tell you what I know of your grandfather.”

Drake, Devon, and de Wolfe followed. “I am honored, my lord,” de Wolfe said. Then, he paused slightly before continuing. “And I would also beg you to tell me of Simon de Montfort. I understand your family was very close to him.”

Davyss thought back on those distant, misty memories of Simon de Montfort, the man so close to his family that Davyss had called him Uncle Simon. Simon had been his godfather and, according to Davyss’ mother, Simon was far more than that. Lady Katharine de Winter had informed her son, by a note he’d read after her death, that he was also Simon’s son. But no one knew that save him and Devereux. They would take that secret to their grave with them. Yet there were times when Davyss looked at his sons, and especially Denys, and he could imagine seeing Simon in their features. Drake definitely thought like Simon did and young Dallan had his eyes, but it was Denys who physically resembled the man. Odd how Davyss hadn’t thought about that in a very long time until now, the reflections of a bygone time. He replied belatedly to de Wolfe.

“I will tell you something of that time,” he said, being somewhat vague about it. “Every man in England should know about that time between de Montfort and Henry and remember it. It was a time in England’s history that there was a great deal of change and growth.”

Drake and Devon had heard the story before but it never got old. Forgetting Edward, the de Mandevilles, and their imminent departure for the moment, they followed their father into the hall, listening to him tell de Wolfe tales of glory about de Montfort and The Wolfe, and his experiences with both. The women were in the hall and Drake found a seat next to his wife, holding her hand as his father imparted upon the younger generation the stories of the greatness he had once known. It was a mesmerizing time, and one of pride and richness, as Davyss de Winter told his tales. Through it all, Drake sat next to Elizaveta and gently fondled her fingers, so incredibly glad to spend this final time with her. It was joy beyond joy, and warmth beyond warmth.

It was perfect.

Evening was upon them before they realized it.

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