Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Isenhall Castle

W illiam had actually never been to Isenhall Castle and had not realized how close it was to Kenilworth. He had asked Gallus for permission to accompany him to Isenhall purely to visit his son, to which Gallus gladly agreed. It also seemed to William that the young earl might be in need of counsel, considering what had gone on at Kenilworth, so he left with the de Shera contingent without even telling de Montfort. Being a legendary warrior, and an older man to boot, de Wolfe could get away with almost anything. No one would speak ill of the all-powerful Wolfe and risk the man’s wrath, not even de Montfort.

It was a pleasant ride to Isenhall as spring was officially upon them. The birds were busy and the fields were beginning to blossom with bright green grass and a myriad of colorful flowers. At one point on their trek home, a litter of small rabbits dashed out onto the road and startled Maximus’ borrowed horse, as he had been forced to leave his lame silver charger at Kenilworth. The horse nearly threw the expert horseman but he somehow managed to retain his seat, off-balance, until Tiberius pushed him off completely. That brought some laughter to the ranks during a journey home that had not seen much levity. Everyone knew they were returning to Isenhall because of Lady Honey and emotions were somber.

Gallus had pulled all of his men from Kenilworth simply because he didn’t want to leave them behind, so it made for a rather large army returning to Isenhall because de Wolfe also brought his men along for the same reason– no one wanted to leave their army at Kenilworth under de Montfort’s command. Therefore, eight hundred men were traveling to Isenhall on this day along with seven knights, men of the highest order. It made for an impressive sight.

The road southeast crested on a small series of hills on the south side of Coventry, which the army had to pass by in order to return to Isenhall. It was the same road that Gallus and Jeniver had traveled when they had returned from Wales and there came a point in the rise where Isenhall could be seen in the distance. Like a beacon of honor and power, of familiarity, Gallus realized, when he caught a glimpse of his castle, that there was a lump in his throat. He was almost home.

All he could think on was his mother, tucked inside the dark-stoned bastion, as she lay dying without her sons around her. He should have never left her in the first place but, in hindsight, he knew he had done the right thing. He had to go to Kenilworth to set Bigod straight and to save his honor from the man’s petty gossip.

However, after what Hughston had told them before they left Kenilworth, it sounded to Gallus as if there was something more brewing with de Montfort and Bigod, something that involved him and Henry. He’d been thinking on it all the way home as, he was sure, the others in his party had been. He would not speak of it in the open for the soldiers to hear, but once they reached Isenhall, he fully intended to ask de Wolfe what the man thought of Hughston’s information. Clearly, there was more going on than met the eye. That concerned him.

Time passed, slowly it seemed, as they continued along the road but as they came to within a half mile of Isenhall, the great gates began to open and a horse and rider burst forth, charging off to the southeast. Gallus saw the rider leave and he was naturally curious about it, even going so far as to point the rider out to Maximus, who was already watching the event. Maximus shrugged, unconcerned, but Gallus continued to ponder the situation until the great gates of Isenhall swallowed them up.

With eight hundred men plus the two hundred already at Isenhall, it made for crowded conditions in the small bailey of Isenhall. Troy was on the battlements and, having seen his father arrive, nearly killed himself trying to get to the man. Troy and his father eventually came together near the gatehouse in a great bear hug as Scott joined them. It was a joyful reunion for The Wolfe and his two eldest sons as Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius hurried into the keep. There was a great sense of urgency to get to their mother, something that was pushing them with every step they took.

As the three de Shera men entered the dark interior, Jeniver was descending the big staircase. She rushed at her husband, throwing herself into his arms, as Maximus and Tiberius bolted up the stairs, heading for Honey’s chamber. But for Gallus and Jeniver, just for that moment, there was only the two of them in the whole, wide world. Jeniver hugged her husband so tightly that she was nearly strangling him.

“You have come home,” Jeniver breathed, her arms wrapped around Gallus’ neck. “I am so thankful. Gallus, there is much happening.”

Gallus kissed her head, her cheek, and finally her lips. She tasted so good that he kept kissing her until she put her hand against his lips and he was forced to stop.

“It is so good to see you,” he whispered, kissing her fingers. “I came as quickly as I could. How is my mother?”

Jeniver had a rosy glow about her as her early pregnancy began to announce itself. “She is asleep at the moment,” she said. “The physic is not sure she will last the day. But that is not the only reason you were summoned, Gallus. It is the most important reason but not the only one. Something has happened while you were away. We did not want to put it in a missive that could be intercepted.”

Gallus looked at her, his curiosity turning to horror. “You are well, aren’t you?” he nearly begged. “And my son? He is well?”

Jeniver could see that he thought she had meant the baby and hastened to reassure him. “He is well,” she insisted. “I am well, too. It has nothing to do with us.”

Gallus opened his mouth to question her further when Troy emerged through the keep entry, followed by his father, his brother, and the rest of the de Shera knights. Troy headed straight for Gallus.

“My lord,” he said, interrupting the reunion between Jeniver and Gallus. “Thank you for coming so quickly. There is much to tell.”

Gallus’ expression was wrought with confusion. “What else is happening around here?” he asked. “And where was that rider off to, the one you sent when we were approaching?”

Troy nodded quickly. “I will answer all of your questions, my lord, so please be patient,” he said. Then, he took a deep breath and launched into it. “Two days ago, Davyss de Winter appeared. He and his father and their army are camped about five miles south of Isenhall. It would seem that Henry received a missive from de Montfort stating that not only had you masterminded the destruction of Jacques Honore, but that you had also married a Welsh princess and were now allying yourself with the Welsh. Based on that missive, Henry then ordered the de Winter army to lay siege to Isenhall and confiscate it lest it become a base for the Welsh resistance. The rider I sent out of Isenhall was sent to fetch Davyss and his father and bring them here. They wanted to be notified when you returned home so that they could speak to you about this madness.”

When Troy was finished, Gallus was looking at the man as if he had utterly lost his mind but as the news begin to settle, he looked at de Wolfe, stricken.

“What Hughston said,” he said in disbelief. “De Montfort and Bigod were speaking of Honore and Henry and a trap. Is that what they meant? That they had set a trap for me somehow?”

De Wolfe could see the horror of betrayal on the young earl’s face. “It is possible,” he said steadily. “When we left Kenilworth, they seemed to be bickering a great deal. Something was amiss, I could sense it. Now, it would seem that there was good reason to wonder. Still, it begs to reason as to why they would set a trap for you. What could possibly be their motivation because if you are weakened or even killed, that would destroy a very major part of their rebellion? It makes no sense at all to have their muscle compromised. Moreover, if you found out about it, you could just as easily turn on them and that would be devastating for de Montfort’s cause.”

Gallus knew all of that but he was still reeling, reeling with the fact that de Montfort had evidently betrayed him to Henry with regards to Jacques Honore’s death. Furthermore, de Montfort was accusing him of siding with the Welsh. All of these things would bring Henry down upon him and they all knew it. It was treachery at the deepest level.

Gallus was at a loss, he truly was. Staggered with the weight of deceit and with his mother’s illness, he put his hands to his head and turned away. He simply couldn’t believe what lengths de Montfort had gone to in order to betray him. He couldn’t even think on why. All he could think on was that it had been done. Now he had no ally in either de Montfort or Henry. He was between causes, isolated, and now targeted. Yanking his helm from his sweaty head, he set it on the nearest table.

“Is this what it has come to?” he muttered. “A man I have sworn fealty to would betray me?”

Everyone could see how shattered he was. De Wolfe was the only one who wasn’t heavily emotionally invested in the situation, so William was able to think more clearly than the rest.

“De Montfort never does anything without a reason, Gallus,” he said quietly. “You must think about why he did this. It could not have been to destroy you. I cannot see that he would do such a thing. There must be something else behind it.”

Gallus thought on that a moment, feeling sickened and wronged. Then, a thought occurred to him, a very real factor behind the situation.

“Some one else behind it,” he murmured. “Bigod accused me of allying myself with the Welsh. He was the only one who said that. I never heard it from de Montfort. Bigod must have been behind this missive. But if that is the case, then why did de Montfort send it?”

No one had an answer for him because the situation, at first glance, was far too complex. Duplicity usually was. Jeniver, feeling a huge amount of pity for the stress her husband was under, slipped her hand into his, smiling up at him when he gazed down at her. It was the only comfort she could offer.

Seeing Jeniver’s smile and feeling her warmth bolstered Gallus and fed his sagging spirit. Surely not all was wrong in the world if he still had her by his side. Her reassurance, her faith, would allow him to think clearly through the haze of confusion and anguish. He struggled to clear his mind with just that thought. Jeniver is my strength . Squeezing her hand, he turned to the knights.

“I am going to see my mother now,” he said, hoarsely. “Please tell me when Davyss arrives. I will want to speak with him immediately.”

It was a thoroughly demoralizing moment in the illustrious career of the Thunder Lord. Betrayal from the most unexpected place had all of the de Shera knights wary of what the future would hold. Still, they would not desert Gallus. They were loyal to the de Shera brotherhood until the death no matter if the entire world had turned against them. Abandonment wasn’t an option. Scott and Troy, closer to Gallus than the rest, moved up beside him.

“Go,” Scott said, putting his hand on Gallus’ big shoulder. “Go to Lady Honey. We will tell you the moment de Winter arrives.”

Gallus barely acknowledge him. Clutching Jeniver in one mighty hand, he headed to the floor above where his brothers were already grieving over their unconscious mother. Sorrow filled the room like an unwelcome fog and when Gallus entered, he was hit by the utter hopelessness before him. With his mother lying still on the bed and everyone clustered around her, already, it looked like a funeral.

Violet and Lily, who had been playing quietly in the corner, came running to him and as he held his girls to him, all of them gazed down at Honey’s dying form. Tiberius’ soft baritone filled the air as the youngest brother, and the most sensitive one, sat down on the bed beside his mother and began singing a song to her that she had sung to all of her sons when they had been babies. A song of sweet sleep and pleasant dreams, and of angels watching from above.

As Tiberius’ beautiful voice filled the chamber, Gallus wept unashamedly.

*

Davyss and Grayson entered Isenhall’s crowded bailey an hour after receiving the news that Gallus had returned, not particularly shocked to see a fairly large army crowding the small ward. They were met at the gates by several soldiers who escorted them straight to the keep, purposely keeping them segregated from the de Wolfe and de Shera men who might recognize the head of the de Winter armies and, subsequently, the head of the opposition. Once they reached the entrance to the keep, however, the men were met by Garran and Stefan, who escorted them inside.

The low-ceilinged foyer of Isenhall’s keep was surprisingly alight, as Scott had ordered torches lit and a fire stoked. The usually dreary, windowless room was deceptively bright as Davyss and Grayson were ushered inside. In the small hall off to the right, the one usually used as a private family dining room, de Shera knights were amassed along with an older knight that neither Davyss nor his father immediately recognized.

Scott and Troy came out of the smaller room to greet Davyss and Grayson, drawing them into the dining chamber that had two big pitchers of ale on the table. There were also remnants of a meal, indicating that the de Shera knights had been sitting around awhile, waiting and eating. Troy handed Grayson a cup of ale as Scott made the introductions around. When they came to William, the last man to be introduced, both Grayson and Davyss were visibly impressed.

“My lord,” Grayson greeted, surprised to find the man here. “Although we’ve not met, of course I am well aware of your reputation. I have admired you from afar.”

William smiled faintly at the short, compact older knight with a somewhat debonair manner about him. “As all of England is aware of the de Winter war machine, also,” he replied. “I have heard tales of your triumphs.”

Grayson grinned. “I would imagine that between the two of us, we could keep men busy for days and days with our tales of battle,” he said, watching William chuckle. “It may be a sad thing to discover how much is truth and how much is myth, however.”

William nodded his head. “I might seem far less impressive in that case,” he said, his gaze moving to Davyss. “And this is your son? I have heard of the man and his mighty sword.”

Davyss greeted William with the same reverence his father was showing. “I am honored that you would know my name, my lord,” he said. “I was raised on stories of your valor from the Scottish borders. I wanted very much to be like you.”

William gestured to the great sword hanging at Davyss’ side. “You are well on your way, so I am led to believe,” he replied. “ Lespada , isn’t it?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“According to my sons, you and your sword are great friends with Gallus.”

Davyss nodded. “Our fathers were friends and, consequently, we became friends also,” he said. “We fostered together.”

William nodded in understanding, glancing around at the group of knights and realizing that social pleasantries were coming to an end. It was time to come to the reason for the de Winter visit. William indicated the table and the benches that surrounded it.

“Please,” he said. “Sit and refresh yourselves. I am sure Gallus will be here momentarily.”

“And you would be correct,” Gallus said as he entered the chamber. Having seen Davyss and Grayson enter the keep from the window of his mother’s room, he and his brothers had made haste to the entry. His focus went straight to Davyss. “My friend, it is good to see you again.”

Davyss grinned, taking the man’s offered hand, as Grayson reached out and hugged Maximus and then Tiberius. When he moved on Gallus, he looked the man in the eye for a moment before embracing him as a father would. There was emotion in his actions.

“Gallus,” he murmured. “I see much of your mother in your face. You have the fairness of the de Lohrs. It is Maximus who looks exactly like Antoninus.”

Gallus laughed softly. “Maximus looks like a barbarian and I look as if I am part of the greatest family of warriors that England has ever seen,” he said. “Then who does Tiberius look like?”

“An archer that Honey became randy with,” Maximus grumbled.

That ribald, and untrue, comment sent everyone into gales of laughter at Tiberius’ expense but, being good-natured, he easily brushed off the comment.

“If you say that loudly enough, she may come down here and slap you,” he said to Maximus. “I should not like to be anywhere near you when Honey’s hands start flying.”

The men were grinning, regaining their seats around the table as the conversation turned with fondness to Honey. Grayson asked the inevitable question.

“How is she?” he asked Gallus. “Davyss said she is very ill.”

Gallus’ levity faded. “She is,” he said. “She lost consciousness sometime this morning and has not regained it. The physic is uncertain if she ever will.”

Grayson sighed heavily, his humor from moments before vanished. “It pains me greatly to hear that,” he said sincerely. “I… I know she did not wish to see me, Gallus, but I would consider it a great personal favor if you would allow me to bid your mother farewell from one old friend to another.”

Gallus couldn’t deny the man who had meant so much to their family after Antoninus had passed away.

“Of course you can see her,” he said softly. “Let us complete our business here and I will take you to see her.”

Satisfied, Grayson claimed a seat next to de Wolfe and poured himself some ale as Davyss and Gallus settled in next to one another. It was Gallus who spoke first.

“Now,” he said, looking between Davyss and Grayson, “it seems that there are great stirrings afoot. I have heard the story second-hand but I would like to hear it from you. Why has Henry ordered you to lay siege to Isenhall and take it from me?”

Davyss, who had not been involved in the conversations between Grayson and Henry, turned to look at his father. Grayson set down his ale cup, his handsome face grave. Immediately, the mood of the room turned deadly serious as the knights prepared themselves to hear the truth of what had happened. None was more attentive than Gallus.

“About two weeks ago, Henry received a missive from Simon de Montfort,” Grayson said. “The missive, which I saw, was not in de Montfort’s handwriting, as I have seen that before. It said that the culprit in Jacques Honore’s death was none other than Gallus de Shera and that the man had acted alone in his attack on Honore. It also expressed concern that de Shera was growing increasingly rebellious and he had married a Welsh princess against the wishes of his liege, which I can only assume to be de Montfort. It was speculated that de Shera was allying himself with the Welsh and that Isenhall was to be a base for a Welsh foothold in England. Based on that missive, and that information, Henry ordered me to take my army to Isenhall and capture it.”

Gallus had heard this before so he wasn’t angered as he had been the first time he’d heard it. Still, he was struggling with his frustration.

“You say that de Montfort did not write the missive,” he said. “How did you know it was from him? Did he sign it?”

Grayson nodded. “He did,” he replied. “But what I find strange is that he evidently sent it while you were at Kenilworth. Davyss told me you had been there for several weeks. We only received the missive from de Montfort a couple of weeks ago, so he sent it while you were at Kenilworth. Why would he do that?”

Gallus didn’t have an answer for that. “I cannot say,” he said. “I suppose I am having difficulty believing he would actually send it. Is it possible that it was forged?”

Grayson shook his head. “It bore his seal,” he said. “Henry made no mention of any suspicion that the missive was forged. As for the fact de Montfort didn’t write it personally, a scribe could have written it so it is not odd that the missive was not in his handwriting. But it struck me as very odd that the man would have sent it at all because it is well known that he loves you, Gallus. I would have never thought he would betray you like this. Are you at odds with the man now? What has happened between you two?”

Gallus sighed heavily. “Nothing has happened between de Montfort and me,” he said. “But much has happened between me and Hugh Bigod. The man wanted me to marry his daughter, very badly, but I married another instead. I did not do it to spite Hugh. It was a marriage that my mother accepted on my behalf. I had little choice. But Bigod has taken it personally and has done all he can to slander me to the barons, trying to undermine my reputation. My wife is Welsh, you see, part of the House of Gwynedd, and Bigod is spreading rumors that I am allying myself with the Welsh when that is simply not true.”

It was a clean, concise explanation, and Davyss and Grayson believed Gallus without question. The man had never lied before and they didn’t expect him to start now. He was far too honorable in a world that saw very few men of Gallus’ quality. Grayson, disgusted by Bigod’s behavior, shook his head with contempt.

“I never did like Hugh Bigod,” he muttered. “Him or his brother. Is his brother involved in any of this?”

Gallus shook his head. “I’ve not seen Hugh’s brother in months,” he said. “The man is in Oxford, I believe, so Hugh had done a good deal of damage to my reputation purely on his own. I do not think that the barons believe him but they mostly go along with him– he is a powerful man with a good deal of wealth and manpower behind him. No one will openly oppose him. I suppose what is the most surprising is that de Montfort has evidently given in to the man’s lies. That is the only explanation behind that missive.”

Grayson grunted, confused and upset by what was going on. He lifted his shoulders. “And I am caught in the middle of it, as are you,” he said to Gallus. “I am supposed to lay siege to Isenhall, which you know I cannot do. It… it is almost as if Bigod and de Montfort are trying to punish you somehow, or anger you. Surely their intent was for Henry to attack Isenhall and they knew how that would affect you. They knew you would run home to defend your fortress.”

Something in what Grayson said made a good deal of sense. An idea was coming to Gallus, something vague, but his thoughts were beginning to churn. He looked at de Wolfe across the table.

“They would indeed know I would run home to defend my fortress,” he said. “Do you recall that Bigod offered to send some of his men to accompany me home? To reinforce my ranks, he said. How would he know my ranks needed reinforcing?”

William cocked a dark eyebrow. “If he knew Henry would be attacking Isenhall, then he would indeed know you needed reinforcing,” he said. Then, he held up a thoughtful finger as the mind of The Wolfe began to roil right alongside Gallus’. “Mayhap it was de Montfort and Bigod’s plan all along to have Henry attack Isenhall so they could ride to your aid.”

Gallus was at a loss. “But why?” he demanded. “Why would they turn Henry on to Isenhall simply so they could help me fight him off?”

The entire table was hanging on that suspicion, each man thinking on that very specific line of thought. Why would de Montfort and Bigod provoke Henry into attacking Isenhall so they could help defend it? It made absolutely no sense, in any of their minds, but it was Maximus who finally saw the logic of it.

“If Hugh went to our aid, then you would no longer have a reason to be angry with him,” he pointed out. “Gallus, you would be indebted to him.”

Gallus couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That particular thought hadn’t occurred to him but now, it made absolute sense. He was hit with the idea like a physical blow. Hissing loudly, he slammed both elbows on the table and put his face in his hands.

“Great Bleeding Christ,” he groaned, exasperated. Then, he pulled his hands away. “That is exactly how that man thinks. If I am indebted to him, then I will forgive him for all of his horrible slander. De Montfort is not attempting to betray me. He is trying to make amends between Hugh and me in some twisted fashion. If two of his most powerful barons are in turmoil, then his rebellion against Henry is weakened. But if we are united against a common enemy, then his cause is strong once again.”

The entire table was looking at Gallus in varied degrees of shock as he reasoned out what could possibly be de Montfort’s motives. It was astonishingly true on so many levels and every man understood that. Grayson, now coming to comprehend a great deal, shook his head with the idiocy of it all.

“Sending a missive to Henry mentioning that you were behind Honore’s death would most certainly anger the king enough to retaliate,” he said. “Of course de Montfort would know that. I am proof that the man’s suspicions were correct. Henry is mad enough to seek vengeance.”

Now, they had the truth. It was logical and completely understandable given the personalities of the men behind the scheme and their ulterior motives. There could be no other alternative.

Gallus, infuriated and disgusted, rose from his seat and began to pace, wandering his way to the lancet windows that overlooked the crowded bailey beyond. It smelled heavily of men and animals, the scent wafting in on the noon breeze. He paused by the window, looking out at the soldiers who had set up small encampments in his crowded bailey. As he looked at all of the men and material outside, an idea began to occur to him.

“I am going to beat that bastard at his own game,” he said. “I will not be indebted to him. He will be indebted to me. He will not best me, I swear it.”

Davyss was the one to ask the obvious question. “What will you do?”

Gallus leaned back against the wall next to the window, crossing his arms casually as he faced the men at the table. It was a table of utter power, of men with legendary histories or families. There were no finer knights, anywhere. After a moment, Gallus actually laughed.

“God’s Bones,” he sighed, pondering the situation. He eyed Davyss and Grayson. “How would you like to help me get even with Bigod?”

Grayson slapped the tabletop. “Nothing would give me more pleasure,” he declared. “What did you have in mind?”

Gallus grinned, glancing at the entire table as he spoke. “Bigod’s army is camped outside of Kenilworth,” he said. “And I mean everything– horses, men, wagons, material– everything. How would you like to raid his army and steal what you can before I ride in behind you and chase you off? You can take what you can carry back to Henry, it will look as if I fought you off, and Bigod will be indebted to me forever for saving his men from destruction. I will best that man yet.”

Grayson started laughing at the thought of running off with Hugh Bigod’s property. Davyss started laughing as well and soon the entire table was roaring with laughter.

“A raiding party on Bigod’s army?” Grayson said. “That is the best plan I have ever heard of. Anything to humble that wretch of a man. We shall do it and do it gladly.”

Gallus was still laughing. “But what will you tell Henry when you return to London?”

Grayson shrugged. “I will simply tell Henry that we did not breach Isenhall and raided Bigod’s army instead,” he said. “He knows that de Montfort has a gathering at Kenilworth. It will please him that we shook it up a bit, especially at Bigod’s expense.”

Gallus sobered a bit. “But it may anger him that you did not punish me as he had hoped.”

Grayson didn’t seem concerned. “I will explain to him the way of things,” he said. “He knows that our families are close. I will tell him I spoke with you and that you told me the truth about your relationship with Wales. Henry trusts me enough to respect my judgment.”

Gallus’ gaze lingered on a man he looked upon as an uncle. “But what about Honore’s death?” he asked softly. “I am guilty of that.”

“Did you act under de Montfort’s orders?”

“I did.”

“Then it is de Montfort’s fault. You did not act alone, as de Montfort accused.”

Gallus felt infinitely better than he had when he had first entered the room. He felt as if there was hope now, as if he understood what had happened and had a plan to counter it. There was such relief in his heart that he couldn’t begin to describe it. No man was going to get the better of the Thunder Lord. No man alive could best him. Except for one; he looked at de Wolfe, sitting at the end of the table with a grin on his face. He focused on William.

“Your thoughts, my lord?” he asked. “I am anxious to hear them.”

William’s smile broadened as he folded his hands, resting his chin on his fingers in a thoughtful gesture.

“If the de Winter army is to raid the camp, then it would be best under the cover of darkness,” he said. “There will be more confusion that way. Did you notice the horizon when you arrived today?”

Gallus knew what he was referring to. “I did, indeed,” he said. “I saw the clouds approaching, too. There will be a storm upon us by nightfall.”

“All the better to conduct a raid as the storm is pounding,” William said. “Make sure Henry’s men display their colors clearly and make very sure that Bigod sees when you ride to his rescue. Make him see that the Lords of Thunder can tame the howl of the savage winds. It will make him far less likely to move against you in the future. With some men, respect must be borne from fear.”

Gallus appreciated the advice very much. He liked being in league with The Wolfe, conspiring with a living legend. He and William seemed to think very much alike.

“Will you ride with us, then?” he asked.

William nodded firmly. “I want Bigod to be indebted to me, as well.”

Already, there was talk going on about the best approach to Kenilworth and the timing between Henry’s army raiding Bigod’s camp and the arrival of Gallus’ troops. Gallus wanted to enter the conversation but he knew it would take most of the day. At the moment, he very much wanted to see his wife and to explain to her what was about to happen. She would want to know. More than that, Grayson had asked to visit Honey. Now would be a very good time, before they became too involved in their coming task.

“Grayson,” he said, moving around Maximus and Tiberius as they engaged in a lively discussion with Davyss. “Mayhap you would like to visit my mother now before you must ride back to your army?”

Grayson nodded eagerly, rising from his seat. As Gallus led him from the chamber and up the great staircase, Grayson spoke softly.

“She told Davyss that she did not wish to see me,” he said. “If she is awake, she will berate me for disobeying her wishes.”

Gallus grinned. “If she is awake, then it is the greatest miracle we could ask for,” he said. “She has not been awake since I returned home this morning. Speak to her. Mayhap her anger alone will arouse her.”

They came to the top of the stairs and Honey’s chamber was to the left. The door was cracked open and it was dim inside. Gallus quietly pushed the door open, hit by the smell of the room. Much as Jeniver had noticed, there was a rotten smell about it. Gallus knew it was the smell of death and the physic was trying to mask that smell by burning cloves.

As soon as they entered the dark chamber, they noted that Jeniver was seated next to Honey’s bed. The woman stood up when she saw her husband enter with an unfamiliar man beside him. Quietly, she made her way over to Gallus. He reached out his hand to her, pulling her against him.

“Grayson de Winter, this is my wife, the Lady Jeniver,” he introduced them in quiet tones. “Jeni, this is one of my oldest friends. This is Davyss’ father.”

Jeniver smiled at the handsome older man. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” she said. “I met your son yesterday when he came to speak with Gallus.”

Grayson was quite taken with the lovely, dark-haired lass. “We have known Gallus and his family for many years,” he said. “I can see he did quite well for himself by marrying the most beautiful lass in Wales.”

Jeniver smiled modestly. “You flatter me, my lord.”

Gallus interrupted the gentle chatter. “If you would not mind sitting with my mother for a few moments,” he said to Grayson, “I would like a few minutes with my wife.”

Grayson waved them off, already turning for the bed where Honey lay still upon it. “Please,” he said. “Take your time. I will watch over Lady Honey.”

As Grayson took the chair next to the bed that Jeniver had occupied, Gallus escorted her out of the room and across the corridor to their bedchamber. In the chamber next to Honey’s, they could hear Violet and Lily playing with the dog and the intermittent voice of an old servant woman who looked after the girls on occasion. Quietly, Gallus pulled Jeniver into their bower and closed the door.

“How is my mother?” he asked softly.

Jeniver went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he embraced her tightly. “She has not changed,” she said, looking up at him. “She breathes deeply and slowly, but she has not awakened. I was telling her stories about my childhood in the hopes that she would open her eyes but she did not.”

He smiled at her, pushing a stray lock of dark hair from her eyes. “What stories were you telling her?”

Jeniver grinned. “I was telling her of the serpent that lives near Rhydilian and when I was younger, there were two servant boys I would play games with,” she said. “We would sneak away to catch glimpses of the serpent and we would even try to catch its attention to see which one of us was the bravest. We were greatly punished if my father discovered us.”

He cast her an irritated expression. “There are no such things as serpents,” he said flatly. “Your father tried to tell me about a serpent, too. I accused him of being drunk.”

Jeniver laughed softly. “There is indeed a serpent that lives near Rhydilian,” she said. “You had better take care the next time you visit or it will make a meal out of you.”

Gallus rolled his eyes. “You must be drunk, too,” he said. “All of Rhydilian is drunk and dreaming of serpents.”

Jeniver giggled but she let the subject drop. She couldn’t prove it at that moment but someday, she would. Gallus would be a believer then. But that was for another time. She put her head against his chest, feeling his warmth against her cheek.

“Did you speak with Davyss and his father, then?” she asked. “Will they attack Isenhall now or have you managed to hold them off?”

Gallus’ focus turned from thoughts of serpents to visions of Bigod. “They will not attack Isenhall,” he said. “That is what I came to tell you. I will be returning to Kenilworth soon.”

She lifted her head and looked at him. “How soon?”

He gazed down into her lovely, porcelain features. “Soon,” he whispered. “Mayhap even tonight. It would seem that I have a score to settle with Bigod.”

Jeniver’s brow furrowed curiously. “Why?” she wanted to know. “What has happened?”

Gallus sighed as he thought on his explanation. Still, it sounded wild and outlandish but he knew it was God’s honest truth.

“Evidently, de Montfort sent the missive to Henry knowing it would cause the man to attack Isenhall,” he said. “You already know the contents of the missive so I will not repeat it, but it is my assumption that de Montfort and Bigod wanted Henry to attack Isenhall so that they could ride to my aid. I would then be indebted to Bigod and would forgive him his slander against me. I know it sounds foolish, but if you knew these men as I do, it would make perfect sense.”

Jeniver expression was full of disbelief. “Is that how de Montfort expects you to forgive Bigod?” she repeated, aghast. “The man is clearly mad!”

Gallus nodded. “Clearly,” he said. “But that is my best guess nonetheless for why this has happened. That being the case, I am going to turn the tables on the man. Bigod’s men are camped outside of Kenilworth and the de Winters are going to raid the man’s camp. Not to kill, but to steal what they can. I simply want to shake Bigod up. I will then ride in with my army and chase Davyss and his father away. Bigod will then be indebted to me and I will have upset the man’s foolish plans. I will emerge the victor in this situation, trust me.”

Jeniver had a grin on her face by the time he was finished. She put her hand over her mouth, giggling. “And they will not know that you figured out their scheme?”

Gallus shook his head. “For all they will know, I was returning from Isenhall and saved Bigod from destruction.”

Jeniver couldn’t help but laugh. “God’s Bones,” she exclaimed softly. “Are these men truly so foolish and petty?”

Gallus shrugged. “Not normally,” he said. “But they are both used to being in control and expect to have their wishes obeyed. Had Bigod not become so enraged because I did not marry his daughter, none of this would have happened.”

Jeniver simply shook her head at the lunacy of the English lords. “Shocking,” she said. “All of it. Then you will be leaving tonight?”

Gallus’ humor faded. “The sooner we accomplish this, the sooner the entire circumstance will be settled,” he said. “I am not entirely sure I want to leave my mother again but I feel that this cannot be helped. The timing of everything is perfect and I must strike sooner rather than later. I have no idea when Bigod will move his army so we must act while I know it is still outside of Kenilworth.”

Jeniver could see that the poor man was torn. There was so much going on when all he wanted to do was sit with his dying mother and share her last moments with her. To be called away only to return, and now to face the prospect of leaving immediately again, was much to accept. But Honey and Antoninus had instilled a great sense of duty in their sons and it was something they couldn’t shake.

“You know that if your mother could speak, she would tell you to go,” Jeniver murmured softly. “I am not entirely sure that she cannot hear even though she does not respond. Go and speak to her and tell her what you must do. She will understand. It may even give her the will to live just a bit longer to savor Bigod’s humiliation.”

Gallus smiled regretfully. “Mayhap,” he agreed softly. “I suppose I would like to sit with her for a few moments before duty takes me away again.”

Jeniver was already moving for the door, gently pulling him along. “Of course you would,” she said. “Come, now, spend a few moments with her and tell her what you have discovered about the missive. She will want to know.”

Gallus followed his wife from the room and back across the corridor to Honey’s chamber. Just as they reached the doorway, they could hear Grayson’s soft voice and Jeniver came to a halt, putting her fingers to her lips as she turned to her husband. Jeniver had caught a few short words from Grayson that had caused her to stop just outside the door. Curiously, they listened.

“…and they, too, have told me there is little hope,” Grayson was saying. “Davyss does not know of my symptoms and my wife knows very little about it. I have assured her it is nothing serious because I do not want her to worry. You know how Katherine is. If she knew the truth, she would scour the world and spend piles of money to find the best physicians when my case is hopeless. She will not surrender in any case, but I know that I must. The pain is only growing worse. I suspect this will be my last battle campaign… and it will be the last time I see you in this life. I suppose that is why I had to see you today, Honey. I had to tell you of my own health issues and I also had to tell you something that I have never shared with anyone. It will seem silly and I hope it will give you reason to laugh, but do you remember when I spent time with you and your sons after the death of Antoninus? I think, for a time there, I fancied myself in love with you. I know it sounds foolish and it is, but for a time, I even pretended you were my wife. It gave me such joy to imagine that. Katherine and I… we are as brother and sister. I respect and admire my wife, but to love her… I am not sure if I ever did.”

Jeniver was looking at Gallus with big eyes, shocked at the very personal information they had heard. Giving Jeniver a rather startled expression of his own, Gallus rapped on the door to let Grayson know they were there. As they entered the room, Grayson stood up from the chair he had been sitting in, seemingly very composed after his revealing one-sided conversation.

“She did not awake, unfortunately,” Grayson said. “Thank you for allowing me to spend a few moments with her, Gallus. I am grateful.”

With that, he excused himself, leaving Gallus and Jeniver looking after him with some pity. Jeniver finally turned to look at her husband, who was obviously having a difficult time reconciling what he had just heard. So many things had changed for him as of late, now with Grayson de Winter not only being gravely ill but also having secret feelings for his mother. He would never tell Davyss, however. There was no reason to. Whatever secrets Grayson had, they would remain his alone. Gallus would give the man that respect.

As Gallus and Jeniver spent the last precious moments with Honey in her lavish, very smelly chamber, a plot was hatched by the de Winter and de Shera men and by sunset, as the storm clouds began to roll in, Henry’s army was already on the move for Kenilworth. The plan was for a very quick hit and an even quicker retreat before de Montfort could mobilize his troops.

As the rain began to fall and the thunder began to roll, two powerful armies closed in on an unsuspecting Kenilworth.