Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Norwich Castle

Norfolk

First of December

“E asy, my darling, easy,” Devereux said softly. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Elizaveta was trying to breathe but the latest round of dry heaves had her gasping for air. It was always that way in the evening time these days, a pregnancy sickness that saw her vomiting most of the evening and into the morning. During the day, after Devereux forced food into her belly, she was usually fine. It was in the evening when the sickness struck, like now.

“I… I am trying,” Elizaveta said, lying flat on her back, her hand to her mouth. “God’s Bones… this seems to become worse and worse as the days go on.”

Devereux smiled at her daughter-in-law, glancing at her other daughter-in-law who was standing anxiously over her left shoulder. “It will go away, eventually,” Devereux said soothingly. “I did not have the sickness with any of my sons but with Katharine, I was sick constantly. Mayhap that means you are having a girl.”

Elizaveta couldn’t even respond. At this point, she was so miserable that she did not care. Standing behind Devereux, Daniella spoke.

“I am so sorry that you feel so terribly, Vee-Vee,” she said sincerely. “I feel so guilty that I feel fine. All I do is eat!”

Devereux frowned at Daniella, who had no idea why Devereux was frowning at her until Elizaveta began to dry heave again, rolling onto her side to try and stop the reflex. “Do not…,” she gasped, “speak of eating, Dannie! If I could stand up, I would kill you!”

As it was, Devereux swatted Daniella on the behind, causing the woman to yelp. “Dannie, please hand me that wet rag and bowl,” she said. “And then you will go down to the hall and tell Davyss that I will be down presently when I have comforted Elizaveta.”

Daniella dutifully handed Devereux the bowl of clean rosewater and a cloth because Devereux would have Elizaveta suck on the rag to try and get some moisture into her body. Too much vomiting made her sicker and lethargic, so Devereux was trying to give the woman fluids, rosewater or watered wine, as the physic had instructed.

As Devereux put the wet cloth to Elizaveta’s lips, Daniella left the chamber, rubbing her bum, on her way to the hall to carry out her mother-in-law’s orders. The door shut softly behind her but neither Elizaveta nor Devereux noticed. Elizaveta was in the process of pushing away anything that came near her mouth.

“Please,” she begged Devereux softly. “Let me… rest a moment. Please.”

Devereux didn’t force her. She set the rag and bowl on the side table, putting a soothing hand on Elizaveta’s head. “Very well,” she said softly. “I will go down to the hall but I will return shortly with something to tempt you. I know you do not feel like eating but you must put something in your belly. We must feed the child growing inside of you.”

Elizaveta simply nodded, closing her eyes as Devereux kissed her forehead and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. The family living quarters of Norwich Castle were on the second and third floors of the keep, reached by two spiral staircases built into the thickness of the walls, and Devereux made her way down to the lower level where there was a meal going on in the two adjoining halls. Norwich was where all of her children had been born and Devereux smiled when she thought of her grandchildren being born here as well. The castle, manned by her husband as garrison for the crown and also serving as a gaol, was a massive and important complex, the largest in East Anglia, but to her, it was home.

I had been almost two months exactly since Drake, Devon, Dallan, and the de Winter army had left Thetford on their journey north to rendezvous with Edward before his march into Scotland. The weather at Norwich had been cold and gloomy but without the snow and terrible weather that had plagued most of the country. That was often the case in Norwich, which seemed to have a different weather pattern than the country at times, tucked up near the coast as it was. Still, it was quite cold and the rain could be harsh, but Devereux was thankful that the weather hadn’t been too terrible. It had afforded her the opportunity to do the things she had planned to do with her daughters-in-law.

A trip to London had taken place right after Drake and Devon and the rest of them had departed. Devereux and Davyss had taken Elizaveta and Daniella to London, spending a few days at the de Winter manse of Wintercroft before heading into the city and spending money on the ladies. Both women were lavished with fine gowns, robes, and perfumes simply because Devereux dictated that they should. Davyss wasn’t one to easily part with his money so for him, it had been a somewhat painful experience.

But it had been a bonding one, a trip that saw all of them come to know each other better. Elizaveta was very intelligent and kind, and she had a wicked sense of humor that was much like Drake’s, so Devereux and Davyss were coming to think that she was, indeed, a perfect match for their son. She could stand up to the man. After purchasing two trunks full of booty in London, the family proceeded back to Wintercroft and then returned to Norwich before the first heavy rains of the season hit.

After the first nasty rainstorm, travel was somewhat prohibitive so the family hunkered down at Norwich Castle, a beast of a structure, with Denys de Winter in charge of his father’s army while his brothers were away. Elizaveta and Denys came to know one another, too, and both discovered they had a tremendous love of sweets, which they would fight over at supper until Devereux would have to cast the deciding vote on who would get the last cake or sweet. It was always Elizaveta, who would then split it in half and share it with Denys. With half of the family away on Edward’s Scots campaign, those left behind got along famously.

But that had been before both Elizaveta and Daniella discovered they were expecting children. Daniella felt quite well but Elizaveta had been hit hard by pregnancy sickness. The days were growing shorter, the nights longer, and Elizaveta spent much of the evening and nights in bed while Devereux tended her. Therefore, incidents like tonight had become more the norm with Elizaveta ill. As Devereux made her way down the stairs to the dual halls on the entry level, she glanced out one of the narrow lancet windows that lined the stairwell, seeing the gloomy night beyond, thinking on her pregnant daughters- in-law, and wondering how her other three sons were coming along.

Devereux hadn’t heard from them since they’d left Thetford back in October, but that wasn’t unusual. Drake usually didn’t send missives to his parents on a regular basis when he was away but Devereux had hoped, with a wife now to think about, he would at least try to write to them more often to ease their minds. As soon as she received his first missive, Devereux intended to reply to Drake to let him know he was soon to be a father. She wished she could see his face when he discovered his wife was with child. She knew the man would be thrilled. Devon, too; he was a little more unguarded in his emotions and she could only imagine his unbridled joy. It made her smile to think of her sons’ reactions to the next phase in their lives with children now to consider.

Inside the hall downstairs as Devereux entered, Davyss was sitting across the soldier’s hall, or the bigger hall, with a few of his men. He saw his wife emerge from the stairwell and head in the direction of the kitchen. Excusing himself from his men, he headed in her direction. He knew she had been with Elizaveta, who was ill most of the time these days, although Daniella had come downstairs earlier and was now sitting with Denys, gorging herself on the boiled beef provided for supper.

The connected halls were warm this night, courtesy of two enormous hearths complete with explosive fires, and the smell about the room was one of smoke and dogs and hints of the beef they were eating. It was almost cloyingly warm because most of Norwich’s men were crowded into the two halls, making it very close and moist even, as the unlucky men who had drawn watch this night were outside manning their chilly posts.

Big bonfires burned in the upper and lower baileys of Norwich to help ward off the cold, and torches and men with dogs lined the walls, being vigilant over the countryside. After what Drake had told his father about the de Mandevilles, Davyss wasn’t taking any chances. Norwich was bottled up most of the time and his soldiers were at the ready. He had to make sure his family, and his men, remained safe.

As Davyss crossed the hall towards the kitchen, following the path of his wife, he was summoned by a soldier near the entry. The man had just entered the hall, bundled up against the night temperatures, and he caught Davyss’ attention as the man passed near. Davyss shifted direction and headed towards his soldier.

“Aye?” he asked the man. “What have you to say?”

The soldier was an older man, seasoned, who has served de Winter for many years. “You must come, my lord,” the soldier said. “We may have a problem.”

Davyss’ brow furrowed. “What problem?”

The soldier stepped back towards the entry where it was quieter and more private than standing out in the middle of the noisy hall. He came to a halt near the cracked-open entry door, where freezing air was pouring in from outside, and spoke quietly.

“A soldier just arrived who claims he is from Thunderbey Castle,” he said quietly. “The soldier claims that Thunderbey has fallen and that the Earl of East Anglia is dead. I have put the man in the gatehouse for your further interrogation.”

Davyss’ features washed with shock. “Du Reims is dead?” he repeated. “When?”

The soldier shook his head, watching Davyss as the man grabbed one of the many cloaks that had been tossed by the door by men coming from a cold climate into a warm and stuffy one.

“I do not know, my lord,” the soldier said as Davyss fastened the cloak around his broad shoulders. He followed his liege out of the entry and down the stairs leading to the bailey. “The man rode up on an exhausted horse and told us of the fall of Thunderbey, begging for our help. I came to find you immediately.”

They entered the bailey, hit in the face by the frigid temperatures. Davyss pulled the cloak more tightly around his body. “God’s Bones,” he hissed. “Is it really true that Thunderbey has fallen?”

“It would seem likely, my lord.”

Davyss struggled to comprehend the possibilities. “If du Reims is dead, really dead, Drake is now the Earl of East Anglia,” he said. “Good God, that is an overwhelming thought.”

The soldier simply nodded his head and didn’t say anything because he truthfully didn’t know any more than what he had already told his liege. He would have to wait for de Winter to interrogate the man to see what, if anything, had really happened.

Making their way to the outer wall of Norwich Castle was something of a journey because of the size of the complex. Norwich was a series of great ditches and moats linked by three great bridges and three great gatehouses. The keep sat within its own walls and gatehouse, while crossing a bridge brought them to a second bailey, surrounded by a wall. Still another bridge over a moat brought them to the walled outer bailey, surrounded by a moat, where there were stables and trades and accommodations for the army.

It was at this third gatehouse, which was the main gatehouse, where the messenger from Thunderbey sat inside the guard’s room, huddled before the fire and trying to warm up his freezing limbs. Davyss and the soldier who had summoned him crowded inside this small room, made smaller by the five other men that were already in there. When Davyss’ men saw their liege, they politely sought to leave but Davyss held them off. He trusted his guards and didn’t care if they heard the questions he was about to ask. He focused directly on the half-frozen man hunched over before the fire.

“You,” he pointed at the man. “Who are you? What’s this I hear about Christian du Reims?”

The messenger was shivering but managed to stand. “My Lord de Winter?” he asked.

Davyss nodded shortly. “I am de Winter,” he said. “What has happened?”

The messenger didn’t hesitate, speaking through quivering, blue lips. “I have been sent to inform you that Thunderbey Castle has been captured and the Earl of East Anglia has been killed,” he said. “I have been sent by my commander to beg for your assistance.”

Davyss’ brow furrowed as he heard the information now for the second time. “What happened?”

The messenger’s legs were quivering and weak, and he collapsed back onto the stool he had been sitting on. When he tried to get up again, Davyss simply waved him down. The man nodded gratefully, obviously quite weak and weary.

“We were attacked from inside, my lord,” he said, launching into his tale. “It was just as any other day. Our gates were open and there was trade happening in the outer bailey. But somehow… somehow enemy soldiers were able to infiltrate the inner bailey. They got inside and locked out most of the Thunderbey troops, for we were in the outer bailey where the troop house is located. They killed the Thunderbey troops stationed in the inner bailey and they must have breached the keep because they murdered Lord Christian and threw his body over the wall. Then they battled us from the inside as we tried to mount the walls, telling us that Thunderbey was now the property of the House of de Mandeville. My lord, we have been trying to purge them for two months but nothing has worked. That is why the commander sent me to ask you for help. We require your assistance, my lord. Will you help us?”

Davyss’ jaw dropped. “Two months ?” he repeated in shock. “You have been battling them for two months and have been unable to remove them? And… God’s Bones… did you say de Mandeville?”

“I did, my lord.”

Davyss was dumbfounded. Outraged, shocked, and dumbfounded. Sending a soldier to bring Denys to him, he pulled up a three-legged stool and sat heavily, all the while mulling over what he’d just been told. After several long moments, he clapped a palm to his forehead in a gesture that suggested he was astounded by the entire circumstance.

“The de Mandevilles were not coming to Norwich,” he muttered to himself, although the others could hear him. “Drake feared that they would go after de Winter properties, but they did not. They went to Thunderbey instead and they have been there for two damnable months.”

The messenger was watching Davyss with concern, unsure if the man was speaking to him. He couldn’t take the chance that he was expecting an answer. “Aye, my lord, two months,” he said. “We thought it would be a simple thing to purge them.”

Davyss eyed the man as he rubbed at his chin, thinking on the situation. He simply shook his head after a moment, still lost to his own thoughts. “De Mandeville at Thunderbey,” he mumbled again, as if he were having a conversation only with himself. “Why did we not see this coming?”

The soldier who had summoned Davyss glanced to the others in the small room, curiously, before speaking to Davyss. “My lord?” he asked curiously, thinking Davyss was perhaps looking for an answer from any of them.

Davyss wasn’t particularly looking for answers and he knew he had been talking to himself, so he waved the man off. “It ’tis nothing,” he said, “except… except Drake warned me of the de Mandevilles after the attack on Spexhall. He feared the de Mandevilles would try to attack de Winter properties but instead they went straight to Thunderbey. Thunderbey is a very large, high-walled castle. I find it astonishing that they were able to breach the walls and capture the keep.”

The messenger from Thunderbey shook his head. “They were disguised, my lord,” he said. “No army came to Thunderbey to capture her. As I said, it was a day like any other, but before the nooning meal, the keep and the inner ward were in the hands of another army. They simply slipped in and we did not notice them.”

Davyss frowned. “No army simply slips in unnoticed,” he said, “but that is beside the fact. What is done is done. Damn du Reims; he should have been more vigilant. Why was he not more vigilant? On the day his daughter married my son, he warned us about the de Mandevilles. Did he not follow his own advice?”

No one had an answer for him. They all sat there, wondering about the implications of the fall of Thunderbey and what that meant for the House of de Winter. As Davyss sat there and pondered the situation, still muttering to himself, he finally spoke up for all to hear.

“Of course we have no choice in this,” he said. “With du Reims gone, Drake is now the Earl of East Anglia. Thunderbey is my son’s property and, of course, we will regain it for him, but I must send word to him immediately on what has happened. He will need to come home and bring back the three thousand men I sent with him for Edward’s cause. We will need them.”

The messenger from Thunderbey nodded. “That is why I have been sent here, my lord,” he said. “I am sworn to East Anglia, who is your son. We tried to gain the castle back for him but we failed, and that is why we need your assistance. Will you not come, my lord?”

Davyss looked at him, something of suspicion flooding his features. “Pride,” he complained quietly. “It was your pride that kept you from coming to me sooner. Is that not true?”

The messenger hung his head. “We thought we could regain it with the four hundred men we had, my lord,” he said. “But that has not been the case.”

“Why not?” he demanded. “The de Mandevilles are no great force.”

The messenger shrugged. “Mayhap not, my lord, but they have managed to hold our keep for several weeks,” he said. “Thunderbey has known peace for so long that we have no siege engines or war machines. We have an army, but it is not a highly trained or equipped one because Lord Christian has never laid siege nor attacked an enemy his entire life. Therefore, we were ill-prepared for this. We built ladders to mount the walls but the inner walls are so tall that the ladders weaken and collapse. Then we built platforms, but the enemy inside the keep doused them with coals and flammable things that would burn them down. We lost three of them. We are currently attempting to tunnel under the wall but the tunnel collapsed last week, killing ten men. We are trying to re-tunnel, but the commander thought we had better seek assistance at this point. Regaining the keep of Thunderbey requires more than we can give.”

Davyss sat on that information, pensive in expression now, knowing what he needed to do but he sincerely needed Drake and Devon and those three thousand men returned to him. As it was, he only had about four thousand men total scattered around Norfolk and he would have to leave his other properties with hardly any protection at all if he were to draw on most of those men.

But, as he saw it, he had little choice. Recalling Drake and Devon and Dallan and all of his troops from Scotland would take time, and time wasn’t something they had. Thunderbey needed to be reclaimed and reclaimed quickly. Davyss knew he was going to have to call on some of his allies for manpower, men like de la Rosa of Framlingham and Summerlin of Blackstone. He sat back against the wall and considered his options as Denys suddenly appeared.

The de Winter brother had run all the way from the keep, through the cold and dark, and now stood just inside the doorway of the guard room, his face pinched red from the cold and puffs of breath coming from his mouth. Davyss explained to his son what had happened in a few short sentences, enough so that Denys took on the same surprised expression that Davyss himself had exhibited. When Davyss finished, Denys simply stood there with his mouth open.

“Thunderbey is captured ?” he said, astonished. “We must send for Drake right away. It is his property, Papa. He will need to come home right away.”

Davyss nodded patiently. “I know,” he said. “That is why I have summoned you. You will be charged with sending missives to our allies and to Drake, telling them what has happened. Tell Drake he must come home immediately and bring my army back with him. Word must be sent to Framlingham Castle and Blackstone Castle asking for men and material. I will accept one thousand men from each. Meanwhile, we recall some of our own men from our holdings in Norfolk. Go now to my solar and pull forth my ledger that has how many men we have at each property. I will join you there shortly so we may begin the recall.”

Denys fled. Davyss stood up from the stool, pulled up by one of his soldiers, because he wasn’t exactly young and sometimes it was difficult for him to stand up when he’d been seated, especially in the cold weather. On his feet, he faced the messenger from Thunderbey.

“We will ride to Thunderbey and save her from herself,” he said in a rather ironic tone. “You will remain here for the night, fed and rested, and then return to Thunderbey and tell your commander we will come as soon as we can. It is my estimation that we will be fully mobilized in six or seven days and then it will take us at least three days to reach Thunderbey. Tell your commander that.”

The messenger nodded. “I will, my lord,” he said. “But… but what about the new Earl of East Anglia? Will you not wait for him?”

Davyss shook his head. “Did you not hear, man?” he said. “He is in Scotland. It will take weeks for him to return. Do you want to wait weeks?”

“Nay, my lord.”

“Then ten days is what you must wait. Go forth tomorrow and tell your commander that.”

“I will, my lord.”

Davyss left the gatehouse without another word, heading back across the bridges and moats until he reached Norwich’s keep. He paused in the hall, looking around for his wife, but didn’t see her and assumed she had retired for the evening. Even as he headed up the stairs to his bedchamber, he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to tell his wife. He couldn’t send Denys alone to conduct a siege, young as he was, so Davyss was convinced he had to go. He hadn’t ridden to battle in ten years and he was quite certain Devereux would try to talk him out of it.

He was right.