Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
T he great hall of Isenhall Castle was in full swing this night, with food and wine flowing freely, a massive fire in the pit in the center of the hall, and three minstrels in the corner of the room trying desperately to be heard over the noise of the diners. Tonight, the great Bose de Moray was an honored guest and the House of de Shera would show him all due respect.
Tiberius sat at the feasting table with his brothers, their wives, Scott and Troy de Wolfe, Garran and Bose, and finally Douglass. There had been a good deal of eating, drinking, and storytelling going on and, fortunately for Tiberius, Bose hadn’t brought up anything about Douglass and Tiberius’ flight from Coventry nor had he mentioned the kiss to his daughter’s hand from a man she was not betrothed to. Bose was a man of great wisdom with a calm, even manner, but he also had a legendary temper that was common knowledge. It took a great deal to push him into anger but when he reached that state, the results were often deadly.
Therefore, Tiberius’ focus had been on his brothers and the knights. He ignored Douglass completely, who was sitting next to her father. He didn’t want to look at her and see Bose by default. He was still afraid of incurring the man’s wrath so he spent his time speaking happily with his brothers.
Course by course of food passed before them, expertly prepared by the de Shera cook who had been helped in her skills by Maximus’ wife, Courtly, who had learned the art of cooking from her patroness, Lady d’Umfraville of Prudhoe Castle. There was pork in a thick sauce of coriander and caraway, stewed pigeons, cabbage and turnip pottage, and a variety of breads. There was even a sweet gingerbread with raisins and nuts for Violet and Lily, who sat with their father and step-mother, happily gorging themselves. There was also a variety of red and pale wines, and even an apple cider that had quite a bite to it.
Tiberius had started in on the cider almost as soon as it appeared. He was nervous with de Moray in the room and upset that he couldn’t give his full attention to Douglass, as he had wanted to. Therefore, he hit the cider fairly hard and ate very little, mostly distracted with talk of the last major battle the de Sheras had been a part of at Warborough back in May. Since then, there had been a few smaller skirmishes but nothing of note. Since Bose and Garran were at the table, men who were sworn to Henry, politics and loyalties never came up. No one would discuss them out of respect for the friendship they had that superseded loyalties to kings and rebels. It was a fine balancing act, however.
As the evening wore on and the conversation grew louder, Tiberius was fairly drunk. He ended up sitting on the table itself while he told a rather exciting story about a battle when he had been newly knighted, one of the few times he had actually fought alongside his father. The battle had been some skirmish along the Welsh border, but Tiberius had a great twist for every part in the story, mostly making himself out to be a demi-god in battle. As his brothers shook their heads in amused doubt and the knights laughed uproariously at Tiberius’ antics, Bose spoke from across the table.
“And it is this same Thunder Knight who rescued my daughter from de Montfort’s men today,” he said, his unmistakable bass-toned voice filling the table. “Douglass said you threw her out of a window, Tiberius. Is this true?”
Drunk, without his usual control, Tiberius looked to de Moray in a mixture of fear and defiance. “I had to in order to get her out of the chamber,” he said frankly. “There were at least six men at the door, including Lincoln de Beckett, and I had to remove her from the room any way I could. I eased her down in a coverlet sling although I should have tossed her out on her head. Do you know she attacked me when I first entered the chamber? She nearly knocked me senseless. Then, what would have become of her? She would have become fodder for de Beckett and his men. She is lucky I saved her at all!”
The table had quieted down dramatically by that point, listening to Tiberius all but scold de Moray and his daughter. It was clear how drunk and emotional he was. Gallus, quickly seeing that the situation could turn very bad indeed, cleared his throat softly.
“I am sure it was not that bad, Ty,” he said, reaching out to grasp his brother’s arm. “I believe Lord de Moray is thanking you for rushing to her aid.”
Tiberius yanked his arm out of his brother’s grip, disgusted. “She knocked me right across the back of the head,” he said, shifting on the table and sending Scott de Wolfe’s trencher into the man’s lap. “I told her who I was but she would not believe me. I was wearing a de Shera tunic, for Christ’s sake. Who did she think I was? Who else but a de Shera would have risked his neck to save such an ungrateful wench?”
Gallus cast a sidelong glance at Maximus, who took the hint and immediately stood up. “Come along, Ty,” Maximus said to his brother, reaching out to grasp the man by both arms and pulling him off the table. “You have had a trying day. I think you need to retire.”
Tiberius struggled against his brother but Scott stood up and helped Maximus pull the man off the tabletop.
“I will not be chased away like a naughty child,” Tiberius said, unhappy. Then, he turned back to Bose and the wide-eyed Douglass with drunken flare and pointed at the lady. “ Look at her. Look at that beautiful woman. She is simply beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful. And already you have a husband selected for her? Why not give someone else the opportunity to offer for the woman? I saved her! She should be offered to me as a reward for risking my life to save her!”
Maximus threw his big arm around his brother and began pulling him away from the table. “Shut up,” he hissed. “You are making an ass of yourself.”
Tiberius frowned at his brother. “But she belongs to me,” he said, slurring his words as he thumped his own chest. “I saved her. She belongs to me . I want her, do you hear? Tell de Moray to give her to me.”
Stoically, Maximus didn’t reply as he pulled his very drunk brother away from the table, leaving those left behind appearing rather awkward, especially in light of Tiberius’ last few words. As Maximus and Scott escorted Tiberius from the hall, Gallus turned to de Moray.
“I do apologize, my lord,” he said. “Tiberius is a passionate man and drink sometimes brings out more passion in him than he can control.”
De Moray took a drink of the fine, red wine. “He is young and brilliant and brave,” he replied. “I am most fortunate that he was the one to rescue my daughter.”
Seated next to her father, Douglass was both mortified and thrilled by Tiberius’ words. Was it possible that he actually meant them? Or was it the drink talking? She couldn’t dare to hope that it was the truth.
“I did strike him, Papa,” she said, putting her hand on Bose’s arm. “I thought he was one of de Montfort’s men.”
Bose looked down his shoulder at his lovely daughter, his heart, his love. “He is,” he replied quietly. “Did you not know that the House of de Shera serves de Montfort? Tiberius fought off one of his own men to take you to safety. He is a man loyal to friendship and family over all. Is that not correct, Lord Gallus?”
Gallus nodded faintly, thinking the situation, overall, was much more complex than that. “Aye,” he replied simply. “It is. The House of de Moray and the House of de Shera may have different loyalties at this time, but ultimately, our loyalties are to each other over all.”
Bose eyed Gallus. “Is that how you are going to explain this situation to de Montfort?”
Gallus cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “The man is the godfather of Davyss de Winter,” he muttered. “Davyss serves the king. If de Montfort was given a choice between Henry or Davyss, he would choose Davyss every time. The man, therefore, understands the complexities of loyalty. Blood and bond are often stronger than king and crown.”
Douglass was listening carefully to what the men were speaking of, loyalties and crown and the blurred lines of fealty. It was all quite confusing. “I do not understand,” she whispered to her father. “If they are loyal to de Montfort, why did you ask them for help?”
Bose patted her soft hand. “Because they would give it,” he said simply. “Do not trouble yourself over the loyalties of the House of de Shera. As we have said, friendship and blood sometimes supersede fealty to the king or de Montfort.”
Douglass digested the statement, still baffled but trusting her father’s judgment. Moreover, the de Shera brothers had already proven that they were loyal to the House of de Moray by their actions of the day. Was it possible, then, that her father might consider a betrothal between her and Tiberius even if the de Shera brothers were siding with de Montfort? But only if Tiberius truly meant what he said, of course. People often said things they did not mean when they’d had too much to drink. It was a perplexing situation, indeed, but one that she felt some excitement with. Having the tall, handsome Tiberius de Shera as a husband did not distress her in the least. But she said nothing; at least, not at the moment. Later in private, she would broach the subject with her father.
As Douglass mulled over a future in the House of de Shera, Gallus has been lost in a world of reflection of his own. Thoughts of Tiberius and Maximus and how much the three of them had been through over the course of the year, converged in his brain. A great deal had happened, enough to rattle the most stalwart heart. As Bose poured himself more wine from the pitcher at the table, Gallus spoke again, softly this time.
“You must also know, my lord, that the death of our mother has hit Tiberius very badly,” he said to Bose. “Tiberius is the youngest child and my mother treated him like her baby up until he was a young man. When Tiberius was sent away to foster at ten years of age, it was to Kenilworth Castle, which is very close to Isenhall. It was so my mother could visit him monthly, which she did until he became a squire and asked her not to come so often because the other squires were shaming him. Do you know my mother went to find those boys who had been teasing my brother and she belted every one of them? They never teased Tiberius again. The point, however, is that my mother and Tiberius were quite close. He still sheds tears for her and he thinks that we do not know. His behavior tonight… he does not normally do this. I believe it is his grief more than anything that caused him to behave so.”
Bose was listening with some sympathy but it was Garran who spoke first. The black-eyed knight was Tiberius’ closest friend and when he opted to serve with his father and, therefore the king, a few months ago, it had been very difficult for Tiberius to accept. Garran had served the House of de Shera for many years. But Tiberius understood that the man’s loyalty was to his father and not to the king. Still, it had been a difficult decision for all of them, including Garran, to accept. Aye, there were perhaps more reasons than one behind Tiberius’ outburst.
“Let me go and sit with him until he comes to his senses, my lord,” Garran begged softly. “I have not seen him in months. Mayhap… mayhap he needs an old friend to talk to.”
Gallus looked to Garran, a man he still trusted with his life. “Max will see that he is tended,” he said. “You needn’t sit with him now. He is probably already asleep.”
Garran smiled weakly. “If I know Ty, and I believe I do, he is currently trying to strong-arm Maximus into letting him back into the hall,” he said. “I would go to relieve Maximus of this burden, my lord. Please.”
Gallus grinned faintly. “Although I have great faith in your abilities, are you sure you are strong enough to fight Ty off if he attempts to return to the hall?”
Garran nodded. “I have done it before.”
“Then go.”
With a nod of gratitude, Garran rose from the table and quit the hall, moving out into the dark bailey beyond. He had been in this bailey thousands of times, both during peaceful times and warring times. He had spent the past four years serving the House of de Shera and knew the layout of Isenhall Castle intimately. As soldiers walked the walls, guarding the occupants against threats in the dark and with only the distant stars as company, Garran headed into the keep.
The big, square keep smelled the same to him as it always had; like smoke and dogs and Lady Honey’s incense of sage and rosemary, which she liked to burn throughout the keep to mask the musky odors of the old stone. Even though Lady Honey had died back in May, Jeniver and Courtly kept with that tradition because it was of comfort to the sons.
The main staircase of Isenhall was off to the right of the entry, an unusual staircase in that it was straight from floor to floor rather than being spiral. It was also wide, and easy to travel, and Garran made his way up to the third floor where Tiberius’ bedchamber was. By the time he hit the landing on the third floor, he could already hear Tiberius’ agitated voice and Maximus’ deep, calm tone. Carefully, he opened the old oak door into Tiberius’ chamber.
It smelled of unwashed bodies and urine because Tiberius often let the dogs into his chamber and they would pee in the corners. Tiberius was standing over by the lancet window that overlooked the eastern portion of the bailey, slumped against the wall, as Maximus stood several feet away with his arms folded across his chest. It was clear that the brothers had been in some manner of discussion and, from the expressions on their faces, it had been a serious subject. Maximus caught sight of Garran first.
“De Moray,” he greeted. “I hope your father is not too offended by Ty’s behavior. Did you come up here to berate him? He will not listen, you know.”
Garran shook his head as he came into the room. “My father is rather forgiving,” he said. “He has not even mentioned it. I have come to relieve you of the duty of sitting with your brother so that you may return to your wife. I have not seen Ty in a few months. We have much to catch up on.”
Maximus looked to Tiberius, who was focused on Garran. He had his hands on his face, wiping the drunken tears from his cheeks.
“You were not here for my mother’s funeral,” Tiberius said to Garran, sorrow in his tone. “In fact, I missed it, too. We all did. By the time we received word of her passing, she had already been buried in Isenhall’s chapel next to my father. I was not able to tell my mother farewell.”
His eyes were filling with a pond of tears and Garran glanced at Maximus, who simply shook his head with some regret.
“You did, Ty,” Maximus said softly. “You told her farewell before we left to go to Oxford those months back. Remember? Now, why don’t you lie down and try to sleep? You have had far too much to drink, more than I have ever seen from you. You need to rest.”
Tiberius wiped the tears that seemed to keep falling. He looked away from his brother and his friend, his gaze finding the bright carpet of stars in the night sky.
“She was ashamed of me,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “Gallus was her shining star and Maximus was her strength. What was I? A misfit. A comic . I was her youngest son that had not accomplished anything to make her proud of me. Gallus married Catheryn and had two children, and then he married Jeniver and she will bear him a son. And now Maximus has married Courtly and they are very happy. What have I done to perpetuate the de Shera name? Nothing of note. I have done… nothing.”
Maximus didn’t want to hear any more of his brother’s drunken self-pity. As far as he and Gallus were concerned, Tiberius, the baby, had always been Honey’s favorite son. Maximus moved towards the man and pulled him away from the window, towards his bed.
“Go to sleep,” he said. “Garran will sit with you so you do not drown in your own vomit. Come along, Ty, lay down. You will feel better when you have had a chance to sleep.”
Oddly enough, Tiberius didn’t fight him. He let his brother push him down on his messy, smelly bed. All of that terrible cider had finally caught up with him and he could hardly keep his eyes open.
“Garran, your sister,” Tiberius rambled on, grabbing hold of Garran’s arm when the man helped Maximus pull up the coverlet. “She tried to beat me when I first found her in that room, you know. She is a brave and strong woman. She is also quite beautiful. Did you know that?”
Garran cocked a patient eyebrow at the man. “Men do not usually think their sisters to be beautiful.”
Tiberius was very serious. “But she is,” he insisted. “Why did you not tell me you had such a beautiful sister?”
Garran shrugged, trying to peel Tiberius’ hand off of his arm. “I told you,” he said. “Men do not go around telling others that their sister is beautiful. That would be strange.”
Tiberius’ cider-muddled mind tried to make sense out of that statement. “I saved her from de Montfort’s assassins,” he said. “Therefore, she belongs to me. You will tell your father, will you not? Lady Douglass is mine. I intend to keep her.”
Garran knew there was no arguing with a drunken man. “As you say, Ty,” he said. “She belongs to you.”
Satisfied, Tiberius let go of Garran and drowsiness quickly came upon him. “She will be the mother of my sons,” he muttered, his eyes fluttering closed. “She is a fine woman. My mother would… would be proud of me to marry such a fine woman.”
He continued muttering, trailing off and falling dead asleep in a matter of seconds. Maximus and Garran stood over him as he began to snort loudly.
“I will stay here for a time,” Garran said, looking at Maximus. “You may return to the hall if you wish. I will make sure he comes to no harm.”
Maximus nodded as he headed for the door. “He will not remember any of this come the morning,” he said. “I hope your father does not think he is truly interested in your sister. Although your sister is a beautiful woman, Tiberius is not a man to wed, at least not at this point in his life. I am not entirely sure he is capable of being true to one woman.”
Garran snorted. “Well I know it,” he said. “I would approve of Lucifer as a husband for my sister sooner than I would approve of Ty. I have seen what that man is capable of with the opposite sex.”
Maximus had to wriggle his eyebrows in agreement. Tiberius was quite legendary with women and there was rumor of at least one de Shera bastard in London. But they didn’t discuss that particular aspect of Tiberius’ character as Maximus left the chamber and shut the door softly behind him. Garran pulled up a chair near the hearth and sat, taking a deep, cleansing breath as he thought on the day’s adventures. It had been quite a full day, for all of them.
As Tiberius snored away, Garran couldn’t help but wonder if the man, once sober, would continue to show interest in Douglass. Although Garran loved Tiberius like a brother, as he had told Maximus, he had seen what the man was capable of with women. He was handsome, charming, and always got his way in everything. Many a maiden had been ruined by Tiberius de Shera’s sweet talk and wooing ways, and Garran intended to make sure that his sister did not fall prey to the likes of his friend. He wondered, darkly, if he would find himself fending off Tiberius at some point. He hoped not because he would unquestionably defend Douglass to the death.
Perhaps even Tiberius’.