Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

Isenhall Castle

T here was just too much happening.

As the great circular fortress of Isenhall came into view, Maximus could only think on what lay in store for him inside those great, old walls. He’d spent the past four days rolling the situation over in his mind, thinking of Rose and the son she had given him. In truth, he still wasn’t over the shock of learning that not only had the reason behind her death been a lie, but a child– his child– had caused that death. Now, he had a fifteen year old son, nearly a man grown, and his astonishment was still fresh. As the walls of his home appeared on the horizon as he and Gallus rode in from the southeast, apprehension swept him.

This has all happened so fast….

And then there was Courtly. How was his wife taking the news? She was such an even-tempered, wise woman that he was certain she had handled it admirably, but he was still anxious to see her and speak with her, even more than he wanted to see his son. Courtly was his world, his everything, and he could only pray that something like this had not damaged her opinion of him. He couldn’t even stomach the thought. Maximus, the consummately controlled knight, was in perhaps the greatest turmoil of his life.

As Maximus, Gallus, Troy, and about twenty de Shera men approached Isenhall, they could hear the sentries on the walls take up the cry that the Lords of Thunder had returned home. Men were shouting and shifting around and, soon, both portcullises began to crank open. Chains creaked and ropes strained, and the smell of burning fiber wafted upon the late-morning air. Soldiers emerged from the bailey to greet them at the first portcullis as Maximus and Gallus passed through the gatehouse tunnel and emerged into the small bailey on the other side.

Those in the keep had already heard the cries from the sentries so Jeniver, Violet, and Lily were already on the stairs of the keep, ready to greet Gallus. Courtly was slower to emerge from the keep but eventually she, too, stood upon the stairs as the collection of men and animals gathered in the ward. As the stable grooms came out to collect the horses and the knights disbanded the weary soldiers, Maximus and Gallus separated from the group and headed towards the keep.

Violet and Lily squealed with excitement when they saw their father, rushing down the stairs to greet him. Smiling wearily, Gallus swooped down to pick up his daughters, kissing soft, little cheeks as Jeniver went to him and kissed him sweetly on the lips. As Gallus was reunited with his loved ones, Maximus mounted the steps towards Courtly.

His stomach was in knots as he gazed into her beautiful face, so very terrified that she was about to spit in his eye or, even worse, simply turn away from him. To his surprise, she did none of those things. She smiled warmly at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

“You are home,” she whispered. “Praise God for your safe return.”

Maximus was holding her so tightly that he was nearly squeezing her to death. His eyes, tightly shut, stung with tears. “Courtly, my love,” he whispered. “I received word about… about….”

Courtly cut him off, releasing his from her embrace and taking him by the hand. “Come inside,” she said, pretending there wasn’t a thing wrong in the world. “You must be weary. I pray your journey was without incident. Did de Moray make it to London safely?”

Maximus followed her inside, simply following like a dumb animal. As she pulled him into the cool, dark innards, he inhaled deeply drawing in the scent of Isenhall’s keep. It was a comforting smell, a smell that renewed his strength. Courtly was pulling him towards the small solar but he came to a halt, yanking on his wife and snapping her right back into his arms. The force of his emotion, his passion, was driving his actions.

“Gallus told me what happened,” he said, looking into her startled expression from having been yanked upon. “Is it true? Did a lad claiming to be my son arrive?”

Courtly gazed up at her husband. The truth was that she was much calmer now than she had been in days. There had been a time when her emotions had the better of her but now, seeing Maximus, she took strength in his presence and in their love. At the moment, all she could feel for him was her love.

“I have sent for Scott,” she said calmly. “He can tell you better than I can. I’ve not yet met the boy.”

Maximus’ brow furrowed. “But…,” he said, cocking his head curiously. “But he has been here for over a week, hasn’t he?”

Courtly nodded. Then, she pulled herself from his embrace, took his hand again, and led him into the small solar. “Sit, Max,” she said. “Let us discuss this calmly. I am sure it was a great and terrible shock to you.”

Maximus let her push him into a chair but the moment she moved away from him, he grabbed her hand, clinging to it.

“Courtly, please,” he begged softly. “I… I am so confused. You have not yet met the boy and he has been at Isenhall over a week? Please tell me what is happening.”

Courtly ended up sitting upon his knee, her hands clutched in his two big ones, holding them against his chest. She could see how terribly distressed he was and her heart ached for the man.

“I did not want to meet him before you did,” she said softly. “It is your privilege to meet him first, Max. It is not my place. It is true that I was deeply shocked and perhaps even jealous when I first learned of him. I wondered what it would mean to our relationship and even to our children. If we have a son, will this boy supersede him in your heart and mind? I had many terrible thoughts and questions but I realized that this is not my battle to fight– this is yours. Something very drastic has happened and it is not my right to become upset about it. My duty is to support and comfort you, and that is what I intend to do, so you needn’t worry about me. The bigger issue is how you feel about all of this. Will you tell me?”

Maximus was truly astonished by her reaction. He had expected… in truth, he wasn’t quite sure what he had expected. All he knew was that he had feared terrible things and his relief upon realizing Courtly wasn’t hateful or resentful about the news gave him relief such as he had never known. He was utterly, deeply astonished by her response.

“God’s Bones,” he hissed, closing his eyes briefly to give thanks. “I thought… I had no idea how you were going to react. I was fearful that I would return to Isenhall and you might not even be here, having fled in anger and shame. If this situation is really true and the lad is my son, then I will say this– he was not conceived out of lust. I did love his mother but not nearly as much as I love you. If this situation has brought you shame, then please know how deeply sorry I am. I would never knowingly shame you. I hope you know that.”

Courtly touched his lowered, dark head. “Of course I do,” she admitted. “Max, you are a true and honorable man. You were honest about Rose. You told me about her. It is not as if you kept anything from me and I know you were unaware of any child. If you had known, I know you would have taken care of him.”

Maximus nodded. “It would have been my duty,” he said. Then, he smiled weakly. “Thank you for not hating me and for not feeling ashamed. Your support means more to me than you can ever know. This situation has me quite unbalanced, as you can imagine.”

“I would believe that.”

“But this boy will never take precedence over the children you and I have together. They will be my heirs. I want you to understand that.”

“I do.”

“And it is you who have been the greatest love of my life, not Rose.”

Courtly smiled with gratitude. “And you are mine.”

Maximus kissed her hands gratefully, feeling the warmth and joy of the moment. But he couldn’t let himself get too upswept in it. His thoughts were still lingering on the boy. “I supposed I should meet the lad,” he said, both reluctantly and curiously. “Do you know where he is?”

Courtly nodded but refrained from speaking as Scott abruptly entered the keep, heading straight into the solar when he caught sight of Maximus. Maximus stood up as Scott marched into the room.

“My lord,” Scott greeted him. “I was just speaking with Lord Gallus. He says that you received the message I sent about the boy.”

Maximus nodded, his expression wrought with apprehension and even some confusion. “My wife tells me that the lad is still at Isenhall,” he said. “What can you tell me about this situation, Scott? Have you spoken with the lad or the man who brought him at length? Is any of this really true?”

As Scott suspected, Maximus had many questions. Scott had been sitting on top of a fairly volatile situation for days, waiting for Maximus to return. It had been hours of apprehension, of conversations with the old smithy, and of observing the young man who looked very much like Maximus. He had a few answers for Maximus but not many.

“I have spoken with the smithy at length, my lord,” he said. “He is indeed the smithy we remember from Kenilworth. There is no mistake. Would you have me go over everything he has told me or would you prefer to hear it from him?”

Maximus didn’t really know. He simply wanted answers to his questions so he lifted his big shoulders. “You will tell me,” he said. “At least I may have an inkling of what I am to face before I see the smithy. Does he still speak with a stutter?”

Scott nodded. “He does,” he said. Then, he indicated the seats around the small feasting table. “Will you sit and be comfortable? I will tell you what I can.”

Courtly pulled Maximus down to sit again and the two of them sat together, holding hands tightly, as Scott sat down opposite Maximus so he could better see the man. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could see how unnerved Maximus was.

“The smithy’s name is Albert, my lord, in case you have forgotten,” Scott finally said. “As Albert explains it, his daughter perished in childbirth with your son about seven months after leaving Kenilworth. To give you some background, when the smithy realized she was pregnant, he wanted to send word to you but his daughter would not allow it. In her mind, since the two of you could not be together, there was no reason to tell you. Therefore, she spent the next several months concealing her pregnancy so no one knew of it. When she finally gave birth, it was in secret. When she died, Albert paid the midwife well not to tell anyone what had happened and that is how the rumor of Mistress Rose dying of a fever was started. Albert did not want his daughter’s legacy to be that of dying to bear a de Shera bastard.”

Maximus was struggling not to relive those feelings of desolation and sorrow he’d known when Rose had been taken from him but, more than that, he was feeling some rage.

“He is not too proud to try and capitalize on a de Shera bastard’s bloodlines now,” he growled. “He shows up fifteen years later and demands money for the boy.”

Scott shrugged. “He wants what is the boy’s due, as your son,” he said. “But I have not yet spoken to the lad, to be truthful. I have only seen him. Albert keeps him well hidden from us. He says he will not let anyone but you speak with him.”

Maximus shook his head. “That seems quite odd,” he said. “Why keep the boy out of sight? He comes to Isenhall and demands that the boy be recognized as a de Shera, so why keep him hidden?”

Scott could only shake his head. “You are here now, my lord,” he said. “Mayhap you can find out.”

Find out, indeed. Maximus looked at Courtly, who squeezed his hand encouragingly. “Do you want me to come with you?” she asked softly. “I will accompany you if you wish it.”

Maximus thought on that. Then, he reached out to touch her cheek. “Would you mind if I went alone?” he asked softly. “This is something… I suppose I must reconcile it myself at first. I think I should go it alone for our first meeting.”

Courtly kissed him on the cheek. “Go, then,” she said. “I will be here. Send for me if you need me.”

Grateful, Maximus kissed her hands, her forehead, before rising and following Scott from the keep. Out in the bailey of Isenhall, the sky above was bright blue and the warmth milder than it had been in weeks. It was a generally pleasant day and as Maximus and Scott descended the steps leading from the keep, Maximus could see Violet and Lily as they ran about and chased each other. Gallus and Jeniver were watching them but when Gallus looked over and caught Maximus’ attention, Maximus waved the man over.

“I am going to see the lad now,” Maximus said as Gallus came near. “Courtly is going to wait for me in the keep, but you… I think I should like you to go with me. Will you come?”

Gallus nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Where is the lad?”

Scott spoke. “In the knights’ quarters,” he replied. “I will wait here with Lady de Shera unless you wish for me to accompany you.”

Maximus shook his head. “Gallus will attend me,” he said. “But I thank you for your skill and wisdom in this situation, Scott. It could not have been an easy one.”

Scott smiled knowingly. “You are welcome, my lord,” he said. “I wish you luck in your conference with the boy.”

With that, Maximus and Gallus continued on to the knights’ quarters which was really just a series of connecting rooms built against the eastern wall of Isenhall, to the east of the keep and great hall. Much like everything else at Isenhall, they were crammed together because of the lack of space within the walls, but the rooms were still fairly comfortable. There was a larger common room and then six smaller sleeping chambers.

Maximus opened the door to the common room, a heavy, oak door that was latticed with iron strips. The panel creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room beyond that smelled heavily of smoke and dirty men. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, he could see the remnants of a meal on the table and a fire burning low in the hearth. He remained at the door until his eyes began to grow more in tune with the darkness of the room, as knights were taught not to enter a situation they could not clearly see. That training kicked in with both him and Gallus, but as they lingered by the door, they heard a quiet voice come from the corner over to the left.

“Sir Maximus?”

Maximus turned sharply in the direction of the voice, seeing a big, round, human shape and little more. “Identify yourself,” he commanded.

The figure stood up with a grunt, laboriously shuffling towards Maximus and into the light. Maximus’ gaze fell on the face and he immediately recognized Rose’s father, the smithy. A definitive shock ran through his veins because he realized, now, that there could be very little chance of a mistake as far as the reasons behind the man’s visit. He recognized the smithy and the smithy, most definitely, recognized him.

“It is A-Albert, m’lord,” the smithy said, stammering. “I was at K-K-Kenilworth when you knew my daughter. D-Do you remember me?”

Maximus nodded slowly, with confirmation. “I do,” he said, unbalanced and apprehensive. “I have been told why you have come. Where is the lad?”

Albert wasn’t finished studying Maximus yet. His old, dark eyes were riveted to the middle de Shera brother, reacquainting himself with the man his daughter had been so deeply in love with. The reason why his daughter died. When Maximus lifted his eyebrows at the man, expecting an answer, Albert smiled weakly, embarrassed that he had been caught in reflection.

“F-Forgive me, m’lord,” he said. “Seeing you reminds me of my Rosie. The last t-time I saw you was nearly the last time I saw her.”

Maximus’ composure took a hit but he hid it well. Memories of Rose began to fill him as well. “The same thing could be said for you,” he replied quietly. He regarded the man a moment, re-familiarizing himself with the old and lumpy features. “If this lad you have brought is truly my son, why haven’t I known about him before now?”

The smile on Albert’s face faded. He looked much older than Maximus remembered him, lines of sorrow and hopelessness on his face. He averted his gaze, grasping for the nearest chair and sitting his big, jelly-like body down. When he spoke, his gaze was distant, as if remembering things he’d rather not have recalled. There was grief in his memories, long past.

“I-I was respecting Rose’s wishes, m’lord,” he said quietly. “She did not want you to k-know of the boy. She did not want you to f-feel obligated, I suppose. She said that the c-child belonged to her, as it would b-be the only thing she ever had of you. But C-Cassius is older now and I-I cannot provide for him as I would like to. I-I am old and it is hard to work my trade, as m-my hands are painful and swollen. When C-Cassius started to go hungry because there was no b-bread, I knew I had to seek you out. It is not fair to C-Cassius not to have benefit of the de Shera name.”

That explained quite a bit and Maximus was starting to feel sad and sorrowful for many reasons. A dead love, a starving son… aye, he was coming to feel quite emotional about the situation. He glanced at Gallus, who had much the same expression on his face.

“So you have brought the boy to me now,” Maximus said softly. “How old he?”

“He has seen f-fifteen years, m’lord,” Albert replied. “He was b-born on the first of December of the year we left Kenilworth.”

Maximus thought quickly back to the last time he had bedded Rose and realized that an early December birth would have fit quite nicely into that time frame. Much like Tiberius, Maximus could remember the slightest detail from two minutes ago to twenty years ago. His memory was perfect in every aspect so he clearly remembered the last time he and Rose had been together and the timeline for the birth was feasible, indeed. He braced himself for what was to come next, the inevitable introduction. He was both anxious and excited about it.

“Then let me see him,” he said. “Let me see if he is, indeed, my son.”

Albert nodded, resigned, and called over his left shoulder. “Cass?” he lifted his voice. “C-Cass, come out here, if you would.”

They could hear a door opening down the short corridor where three sleeping rooms were located. Albert laboriously stood up and moved to the corridor entry just as a young man appeared.

The lad was very big for his age, dressed in a ragged tunic and hose, with broad shoulders and shaggy, brown hair. In fact, it was the first thing Maximus noticed. The lad had his hair. Already, the boy looked like him. But when the lad lifted his face, it was Gallus who gasped.

“God’s Bones,” Gallus muttered. “He looks just like you.”

Maximus drank in the first sight of a boy who was, in fact, an indisputable de Shera. There was absolutely no question in his mind as his gaze moved over the strong features, the square jaw, and the dark green eyes beneath dark brows. He had the handsome lines and the intelligent features. He was a de Shera to the bone.

“He looks like Father,” Maximus murmured, stunned.

Gallus shook his head. “He looks like you. ”

Maximus forced himself past his shock and lifted a hand, motioning the lad forward. “Come into the light,” he said. “Let me see you more clearly.”

The boy did as he was told with Albert by his side. The old smithy had his arm around the boy’s big shoulders but it was clear that the lad was very nervous. Although he met Maximus’ eye, there was apprehension in his face. As the boy came to a halt in front of Maximus, for a moment, no one spoke. They simply looked at each other. It was a moment filled with a million words, yet not one verbal sound came forth. It was a moment when expressions spoke far louder than words ever could as father and son faced each other for the first time.

Maximus took a good look at what he truly believed to be his son, feeling emotions wash over him, feelings he never knew he had. It was prideful and paternal. The boy was almost as tall as he was but he was still growing. Maximus could only imagine how big the boy was going to get. To think of this young man without food, without hope, and raised by a grandfather who lived in poverty nearly brought Maximus to his knees. My blood, Maximus thought. He is my blood!

“Tell me your name, lad,” Maximus said, his throat tight with emotion.

The young man swallowed nervously, looking to his grandfather, who nodded his head. The lad then returned his attention to Maximus and swallowed hard once more before speaking.

“C-Cassius, m’lord,” he replied softly.

He has the smithy’s stutter , Maximus immediately thought. No wonder the smithy hadn’t let anyone close to him! To hear the boy’s stutter would have brought shame at the very least, an imperfect young man bearing the de Shera bloodlines. But the lad had a beautiful, deep voice, very much reminiscent of Maximus’ tone, and in those short few words, Maximus knew without a doubt that he was looking at his very own son. His heart soared and it was all he could do to keep the smile off his face, and he could feel his eyes stinging with tears of joy. Something he had felt such apprehension over, the appearance of his bastard, now seemed silly in reflection. Blinking away the tears, he focused on the nervous young man.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked hoarsely.

Cassius glanced at his grandfather before shaking his head. “N-Nay, m’lord.”

Maximus smiled faintly. “I am your father,” he said. “My name is Maximus de Shera. I loved your mother very much, once. I am very sorry you have been kept from me, lad, but I understand why your grandfather did it. Now that you are here, however, I should like to come to know you. Are you agreeable to that?”

Cassius’ nervousness seemed to morph into something else. He stood a little taller now, his gaze peering seriously at Maximus. He was curious and interested, but he still held a glimmer of doubt. He looked at his grandfather again, for reassurance, before speaking.

“I-I didn’t know about y-y-you until a f-few months ago, m’lord,” Cassius said. “E-Even when I-I knew, I-I did not w-want to come to see you. I-I did not want anything f-from you but m-my grandfather insisted.”

Maximus’ brow furrowed. “But you are my son,” he said. “You are due all rights and privileges that the de Shera name can bring you.”

Cassius seemed to grow frustrated. “M-My grandfather and I do w-well enough,” he insisted. “He h-has taught me his t-trade and I am a good smithy.”

“He is one of the very b-best, m’lord,” Albert put in. “The l-lad has skill and s-strength beyond compare.”

Maximus’ smile grew. “I am proud to know that,” he said. “But he is a de Shera and should be a knight. That is his heritage.”

Cassius shook his head, almost violently, and moved away from the men. It was clear that he was agitated. “I-I cannot be a knight,” he said, pointing to his grandfather. “I-I told you I d-did not want this. I want to g-go home!”

Maximus looked at Albert with some confusion and concern as Gallus, who had been observing everything quite closely, moved around Maximus and took a few steps towards Cassius.

“Cassius,” he said evenly. “I am the Earl of Coventry and you are my nephew. Your father is my brother. Lad, you are the finest example of a de Shera I have ever seen. You are big, strong, and intelligent. I assure you that you can and will be a knight. I will ensure that you are trained by the best.”

Cassius looked at Gallus, stricken. “I c-cannot, m’lord.”

“Why not?”

Cassius was overwhelmed with what seemed to be embarrassment. He didn’t want to answer Gallus but he knew that, out of respect, he had to. He had to give the man an answer. “C-Can they teach me to s-speak without s-sounding like a f-fool, m’lord?” he finally said, pain in his voice. “I-I cannot be a k-knight and shout o-orders like this. Nay, it is b-better to be a s-smithy.”

“Why?”

“B-Because I will shame the de S-Shera name, stuttering c-commands as men laugh.”

Gallus was heartbroken at the lad’s attitude. What a horrible opinion the young man had of himself because of his stuttering speech. But he suspected the lad had suffered a lifetime of ridicule because of it and he knew nothing else. It was heartbreaking, indeed.

“No one will laugh at a de Shera, I assure you,” Gallus said. “But I will hire the finest teachers to help you with your speech and I will hire the finest knights to teach you how to become what you were born to be. Cassius, it is a much better life that you will have this way and so will your grandfather. We will take care of him as well. Don’t you understand what this means? You and your grandfather will never go hungry again. You will be part of the House of de Shera and you will be given all honors to that regard. Your father is the greatest warrior England has ever seen and I have no doubt that you will be a fine warrior as well. Already, you honor us. Let us show you how much.”

Cassius stared at Gallus, overcome by the man’s impassioned speech. After a moment, his features twisted somewhat into an expression of pain. “B-But…,” he stammered. “B-But t-this was not my wish. It was my grandfather’s.”

“I understand,” Gallus said. “But you must give us time to at least show you what it means to be a de Shera. I am pleased that you did not come here expecting anything. That shows true humility. But you are a part of the House of de Shera whether or not you want to be. It is your birthright and a right that many men would love to have. Spend some time with Maximus. At least understand what it is you will be turning down before you refuse it completely.”

Cassius pondered the words a moment before nodding his head reluctantly. “I… I- I will do that, m’lord,” he said, his gaze moving to Maximus. “I-I will come to know my father, as t-that is what my g-grandfather wishes.”

Maximus smiled at the young man. He was coming to see that Cassius was very confused, and very humble, and the idea that he was part of a greater family clearly overwhelmed him. It had only been him and Albert for so long and now he was being introduced to a father who was a great warrior and an uncle who was an earl. For the young man of simple upbringing, it was too much for him. Maximus was coming to see that Albert hadn’t been hiding the boy as much as the boy was probably hiding himself. The stutter in his speech and being very large in size had a hand in his wish to remain hidden from the world. Therefore, Maximus proceeded carefully.

“I have a few duties to attend around the castle,” Maximus said to Cassius. “You may accompany me if you wish or you may remain here. It is your choice.”

Cassius appeared rather dubious, looking to his grandfather as if the old man could tell him what to do. Albert, however, simply lifted his shoulders. He had brought Cassius this far and it was time for Cassius to make some decisions on his own. Brow furrowed, Cassius turned back to Maximus.

“I w-will remain with my grandfather, m’lord,” he said. “I-I do not want to l-leave him alone.”

Maximus didn’t argue with him. He simply nodded his head. “Very well,” he said, looking between Cassius and Albert. “I do hope you will both join us in the hall this evening for supper. I should like you both to meet my wife and the rest of the de Shera family.”

Cassius merely nodded, watching as Gallus and Maximus turned for the door. Gallus went through first, out into the daylight beyond, and as Maximus was moving through the door after his brother, Cassius suddenly spoke up.

“M’lord,” he said, watching Maximus turn around to face him. “I-If you w-want me to come, I… I-I suppose I will. I-If you still w-want for me to, that is.”

Maximus was very glad that Cassius was at least showing some interest. A few moments ago, he was feeling deeply disappointed that Cassius didn’t seem to want anything to do with him. Now, there was a bit of hope. Even though Cassius still seemed indecisive, nervous still, at least he was showing some interest. At the moment, that was enough.

“I will always want you to come with me, Cassius,” Maximus said.

Cassius eyed Albert, who gave the boy a shove forward in Maximus’ direction. Cassius made his way to Maximus, looking the man timidly in the eye, giving him a quick and humorless smile, before heading out into the sunlight. Maximus lingered in the doorway a moment, watching the boy as Gallus began speaking to him. Then, he turned to Albert. His gaze was moist as he looked at the old man.

“Rose would have been very proud,” Maximus whispered. “He is a fine boy.”

With that, he proceeded out to where Cassius and Gallus were speaking, or mostly Gallus was speaking, and together the three of them continued on across the bailey, heading towards the armory on the other side. From the doorway of the knights’ quarters, Albert watched with tears in his eyes.

Aye, Sir Maximus , he thought to himself. Rose would have been very proud, indeed.