Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

T he evening meal was an hour or so away. Tiberius could tell because the servants were busily working in the hall, sweeping away old and rotted food, stoking the hearth, and chasing the dogs away who would simply regroup and return to the room. Pitchers of wine were being placed on the table, heavy pewter pitchers that were indicative of the de Winter wealth. Moreover, there were pewter chalices as well and not wooden cups. The de Winter wealth was much like the de Shera wealth in that they made sure to display it at important events to important people. With wealth came strength and these were two of the strongest houses in England.

But Tiberius wasn’t thinking much about strength or pewter chalices. He was thinking about Douglass. He’d been thinking about her all afternoon and more seriously since she gave him her pledge that she would indeed run away with him to be married provided he speak with Bose one last time to try and obtain the man’s consent.

Even though Tiberius had spent a good amount of time with de Moray earlier that afternoon, it had been with Grayson and Davyss in their company also and he didn’t want to have that particular conversation with an audience. When he spoke to Bose about marriage, one last time, it would be man to man and knight to knight. He had to convince de Moray that he was a suitable candidate because d’Vant, unfortunately, was a very fine candidate indeed. It was Tiberius’ worst nightmare.

As Tiberius strolled across the bailey, just having come from the stables to ensure his charger was fed and didn’t bite someone’s hand off in the process, he looked around the darkening bailey of Wintercroft, up to the walls where the sentries were. There was a walk platform that extended from the gatehouse but it didn’t go all the way around the walls. It only went part way. The complex had four towers, not including the gatehouse, and the towers functioned as their own fortified battlements. Men patrolled out from these towers, meeting in the middle somewhere along the walls, before patrolling back the other way. It was excellent coverage for walls that weren’t built with the ability to mount them all the way around.

There was, however, a postern gate, built into the thick of the wall back by the kitchen yard. Tiberius had walked by it earlier in the afternoon to see how easy it would be to escape through it. It was heavily fortified, and guarded, but it would be a simple thing for Douglass to walk from it as long as the guards either let her pass or, better still, were distracted and she was allowed to slip through. He would have to think of a way to distract them so Douglass could escape while he himself passed through the gatehouse under the guise of returning home. He would then pick up Douglass and make haste for London and for a priest to marry them. Much like Douglass, he was reluctant to ruin the relationship between the House of de Shera and the House of de Moray, but he was resigned by this time. He had to do what was best for him and for Douglass. He was determined to have no regrets.

But the fact remained that he had promised Douglass he would approach de Moray one more time about a marriage contract so on this evening, as the torches were being lit on the walls against the darkness, he made his way from the stable yard to the house, hoping to find de Moray alone so he could speak with the man. As he entered the house, he asked the nearest servant where de Moray was and the servant pointed up the stairs.

It was a big, wide, spiral staircase that led to the upper floor. A long corridor ran nearly the length of the building and there were three doorways off of it that he could see in the darkness, all three of them arched in the Norman design fashion with heavy, oak doors. Not entirely sure which room he would find de Moray in, Tiberius went to the first door and lifted his hand to rap softly but before he could lay his knuckles against the wood, he heard voices coming from inside.

It was Davyss and the man sounded quite serious. Tiberius wasn’t sure who he was talking to but he didn’t want to interrupt. Laying his head against the wood, he could hear voices but not words. He could make out at least three voices, possibly four. They seemed to be speaking quite agitatedly at one another. Perhaps they were even speaking of him and his desire to marry Douglass, since it was a subject they all seemed to be quite willing to give their opinions on. If they were speaking of him and Douglass, then he wanted to know what was being said.

Concerned, Tiberius noted that the door next to this one, down the hall, was slightly ajar. Curiosity drove him down to that door where he could hear much better because, evidently, that room was connected to the one Davyss was in. Voices were much clearer. Carefully, he leaned into the door to see if he could hear what was being said. Davyss had stopped speaking but another voice he suspected to be d’Vant was now spilling his worth, speaking passionately on a subject he believed in.

“…and that is why Henry sent me,” d’Vant was saying. “Henry understands that the House of de Winter and the House of de Montfort are close. He told me to tell you that, Sir Grayson. He told me to tell you that he is very sorry that he must give this command, but it is essential to his strategy. Henry has made the decision not to honor the provisions given to him by de Montfort and his followers back in May. He is the king and his rule is absolutely without the interference of de Montfort and men like the de Shera brothers or Hugh Bigod or Richard de Clare. He is therefore amassing a massive army to march northward and confiscate Erith Castle, one of de Montfort’s most prized holdings. Once Erith is secure, he will move northward and continue securing the north, but Erith Castle is essential for that plan. It is well situated and well supplied. The king has asked that the House of de Winter and the House of de Moray summon their allies and move north, converging in the village of Ingleton, whereupon Henry will join his armies and march on Erith.”

Davyss looked at his father, exasperation on his face. “I have no problem meeting de Montfort on the battlefield, but taking one of his properties is another matter,” he said. “How would we feel if de Montfort came to Wintercroft and laid siege?”

Grayson had listened to d’Vant’s message from Henry with growing distress. When young d’Vant said he had come bearing information from the king, he suspected it might be something like this. Tensions had been growing all summer since the Oxford council meeting back in May when men selected by de Montfort and men selected by Henry had met. De Montfort’s council had made demands of Henry and had levied provisions against him, provisions Henry had sworn to follow. Now, the king was no longer willing to fulfill what he considered an affront to his absolute rule. Grayson knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. He sighed heavily.

“Henry is well aware that Simon de Montfort is my closest and oldest friend,” he muttered, looking to Tallis. “He knows that Simon is Davyss’ godfather. Regardless of that fact, Henry is asking me to march on the man’s castle. I want to be clear about this.”

Tallis nodded. “He is asking for your support, my lord,” he said. “The king has chosen to take the offensive with ten thousand French mercenaries and yeomen behind him. They are coming to England’s shores as we speak.”

Davyss rolled his eyes and hung his head. “French mercenaries,” he grumbled. “The King of England must rely on his Poitevin and Savoyard supporters to bring French mercenaries to England so he can fight against his own English barons. Am I the only one that sees anything wrong with this?”

Bose, standing over near the door, cleared his throat softly. “He is the king,” he said quietly. “He can do as he wishes, for this is his country and it is his right to rule it as he sees fit. Even if you do not respect the man, young Davyss, respect his position in life. It is a great burden that I am sure no one in this room should like to bear in his stead.”

Next to his father, Garran, who they all knew to be a de Montfort supporter, was shaking his head with great remorse.

“But he is allowing the French to take over,” Garran said. He could keep silent no longer. “Father, you know I support you, as my presence here proves, but do not spout off divine rule as being Henry’s right. He is obligated to protect England from the French that want it, and by bringing in French mercenaries… God’s Bones, do you know what they’ll do? They’ll descend upon the countryside like locusts, raping and burning and pillaging… and we are supposed to let them because we support Henry’s right to divine rule? That is madness.”

Bose looked at his son. “We are English,” he said frankly. “We will not allow them to ravage our country. We will watch them and we will police them if necessary. Did you truly think I would stand by and watch Frenchman tear up my country? A country meant for my children and grandchildren?”

Garran simply shook his head and turned away. He was sickened by this news and he was truly starting to question his decision to support his father. Although he would not go back on his word, he was clearly unhappy with what was happening.

“I am not going to argue with you,” Garran said to Bose. “But this is wrong and you know it. And now we have been ordered to confiscate Erith Castle from de Montfort. This is full-blown civil war, Father, for once we attack Erith, de Montfort and his stronger barons will retaliate.”

“De Shera?” Grayson asked softly.

Garran turned to the elder de Winter knight. “Aye, de Shera,” he said. “And Bigod and de Clare. They will retaliate and it will become very, very ugly, especially given the fact that French mercenaries are now being brought in to fight Henry’s war. This is utter and complete madness, all of it.”

“There is something else,” Bose said quietly to the men in the room. “Something I swore not to reveal but I find that I must. It is very important to the king’s cause. I have been told by a very reliable source that Prince Edward is siding with de Montfort now. If that is the case, then this war will be more violent and deadly than you know.”

The men in the room looked at him in shock. “Who told you this, Bose?” Grayson asked, aghast.

Bose shook his head. “Someone I would trust with my life, many times over,” he said. “I will not reveal his name but I know he tells the truth. He would not lie about something as serious as this.”

It was a horrible thought, for all of them, and one that caught them all off-guard. Davyss put his hands on his head and turned away, overwhelmed with the thought, while Garran stood there, shocked, knowing that Gallus or Maximus must have told his father about Edward. It was the only explanation. He also knew that Bose would never betray them, but that piece of information was very crucial. He looked at d’Vant.

“Do you believe Henry knows this?” Garran asked the knight. “That his son is siding with de Montfort?”

D’Vant appeared genuinely stunned by the information. “Nay,” he said. “I am sure he would have said something. He must not know at all.”

Bose grunted, pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. “Then you must ride to London and tell him,” he said. “I will mobilize my men and I am certain Grayson will, too, and we will ride for Ingleton to await Henry’s arrival. But the king must be made aware that Edward sides with de Montfort.”

Tallis nodded firmly. “Without question, my lord,” he said. “I will ride at dawn. If you do not mind, I should like to feast tonight here at Wintercroft with your daughter before leaving. I hope that is acceptable.”

Bose nodded. “It is,” he said. “A few hours will not make a difference.”

Garran, having heard enough, excused himself from the room. He was tired of hearing about French mercenaries and a king who would go back on his word to his barons. He went to the chamber door and exited into the corridor outside, shutting the door before realizing there was someone standing at the other door a few feet away down the corridor. When he looked up, he found himself looking into Tiberius’ familiar eyes.

“Ty?” he said, cocking his head curiously. “What are you doing here?”

Tiberius opened his mouth but d’Vant started talking and his voice floated out of the slightly open door that Tiberius was standing beside. Tallis was continuing the conversation about Henry and the French mercenaries and, at that moment, Garran knew exactly what Tiberius had been doing. His eyes widened.

“You heard all of that?” he asked.

Tiberius, his expression serious, nodded. “I did,” he said. “But in my defense, I was looking for your father. I happened across the conversation quite by accident.”

“But you heard everything?”

“I did.”

Garran gave him an expression suggesting that the situation was quite serious, indeed. Tiberius had heard private information that d’Vant had delivered to Bose and Grayson in what the man assumed was confidence. Now, one of the most important knights in de Montfort’s arsenal was privy to the future battle plans of the king. It was a dire situation, indeed.

“What are you going to do?” Garran hissed.

Tiberius appeared surprised by the question. He moved away from the door, making his way towards Garran. “What are you going to do?” he turned it around on Garran. “At the very least, you should be telling your father what I have heard.”

Garran was greatly torn. Scratching his head, he slumped back against the wall, seemingly despondent. “I… I do not think I can,” he said. “Did you hear d’Vant speak of ten thousand French mercenaries?”

“I did.”

Garran’s expression was wrought with urgency. “Then you must go to Isenhall, now, and tell your brothers,” he whispered. “They must know what Henry is doing!”

Tiberius knew that. God help him, he knew that. But there was the small matter of Douglass. “I know,” he muttered. “But Douglass… I cannot just leave her.”

“If you do not, then Gallus and Maximus will be riding into a slaughter and you know it.”

It was a shot straight through Tiberius’ heart. He very much wanted to marry Douglass, to take her away and claim her for his own, but he couldn’t let his brothers ride to their deaths. Perhaps there were some things more important than him and his love for the lovely Lady Douglass and if she truly cared for him, she would understand. She would wait for him. For now, Garran was correct. He had to tell his brothers what he had heard, regardless of the fact that he had sworn fealty to de Moray. His faith, his true honor, was with his brothers. They had to know.

“You are correct, of course,” Tiberius said, inhaling deeply in resolve. “I must go to Isenhall but I must tell Douglass why. I will leave tonight, Garran. Will you help me?”

Before Garran could reply, a voice came from the open door that Tiberius had just been standing beside.

“You are not going anywhere, Tiberius.”

Tiberius and Garran turned to see Grayson and Davyss standing there as Bose and Tallis emerged from the first door. Tiberius thought many things at that moment. How he could fight his way out of this or charm his way out of it. Either way, he knew he was in a world of trouble.

“Unfortunately, I am,” he told Grayson steadily. “I must return to Isenhall.”

Grayson didn’t seem angry or threatening, simply weary. He shook his head in a gesture that suggested frustration.

“I would assume you heard most, if not all, of what we were speaking of?” he asked.

Tiberius shrugged. “I heard enough,” he said. “I cannot let my brothers ride into a slaughter. You know this.”

Grayson shook his head again, suggesting he was weary of the entire situation. “I know,” he said. “But I cannot let you tell them what you know. Everything I stand for screams against it. Do you understand that, lad?”

Tiberius didn’t pull any punches. He could see where this was going. He turned straight to de Moray. “We saved your life and the lives of your children in Coventry when de Montfort’s assassins were looking for you,” he said. “You may now pay that debt. Let me go back to Isenhall.”

The focus swung to Bose, who met Tiberius’ demand with a steady eye. “I do indeed owe you and your brothers,” he said, knowing that the situation was far more complex than that. “Let me speak with de Winter and see if we can come to an agreement.”

“No agreement,” d’Vant said. The congenial knight was now hard and deadly as he gazed at Tiberius. “The man overheard privileged information. He is, therefore, a spy. Spies will be executed.”

Both Garran and Davyss put themselves between Tiberius and Tallis in a protective gesture. “Try it, d’Vant,” Garran snarled. “You’ll get more than you bargained for and I can promise you that you will not leave Wintercroft alive.”

The men were armed, all of them, so before blades could be drawn, Bose put himself in the middle of it, holding out his hands to cool young, heated heads.

“You will not fight,” he commanded as only Bose de Moray could. “Garran, you and Davyss take Tiberius with you. Do not let him out of your sight. D’Vant and Grayson and I will remain here and discuss this situation. Go now, get out.”

Garran didn’t hesitate. He took Tiberius by the arm while Davyss got in behind him and, together, the two knights forcibly escorted Tiberius from the corridor. With the men shuffling down the hall and moving down the big, spiral staircase, Bose turned to d’Vant.

“If you ever threaten a de Shera again, I will kill you where you stand,” he said quite calmly. “Is that in any way unclear?”

D’Vant didn’t flinch. “Aye, my lord.”

Bose’s jaw ticked as he studied the young knight, so strong and loyal to Henry’s cause. His absolute stance would make for a difficult situation. In these complex times, older knights like Bose and Grayson knew that one had to be flexible and that old friends and family loyalties exceeded those of kings and barons. Tallis had not yet learned that. But perhaps it was time he did.

“Get back into the chamber,” Bose commanded d’Vant again, pointing to the room they had been meeting in. “Stay there for now. If you come out, I will punish you personally. Do you comprehend?”

“I do, my lord.”

“Stay there until I come for you.”

Tallis didn’t respond other than to go into the chamber and shut the door. When the young knight was gone, Bose turned to Grayson. It was clear they were facing a very difficult decision. Hearts and souls and minds and bloodlines were about to be prioritized, and it was Grayson who spoke first.

“What do you want to do?” he asked Bose softly. “Tell me and we shall do it. But d’Vant might prove to be a problem.”

Bose sighed, his clever mind working on a solution to this seemingly terrible problem. “Not if I distract him with something more important,” he muttered.

“What?”

“My daughter.”

Grayson didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you intend to do?”

Bose was sick at the mere thought. “Mayhap a marital contract might distract him from Tiberius,” he said, saddened. “Mayhap that is what I must do in order to allow Tiberius to flee back to Isenhall without d’Vant trying to kill him as a spy. If d’Vant thinks he is going to be married to my daughter, then he will be mostly focused on that and Tiberius will fall by the wayside. At least, that is what I am hoping.”

Grayson shook his head, sorrowful. “Tiberius will not go if he finds out you intend to pledge Douglass to d’Vant.”

Bose knew that. He rubbed his brow and then his eyes, wearily. “Then he will not know.”

“How can you do that?”

Bose looked at Grayson, the greatest turmoil on his face that he had ever allowed to show through. He couldn’t believe what he was about to say, but in order to save Tiberius from d’Vant, in order to make it so the man would be able to return home, he had to make a choice. He had to compromise his honor. It was killing him because he knew it would kill Douglass, too.

“Lie.”

It was a dirty word that hung in the air between them but Grayson knew it was a necessary one. It was something that had to be done in order that Tiberius should be allowed to return to the Isenhall in a complete act of treason. Aye, it was treason. Both Bose and Grayson knew it, but family lines and loyalties were crisscrossed these days like a spider’s web. Bose knew that he had to save Tiberius. He was obligated to. And Grayson would not betray the man who was like another son to him. They were both in this so deeply that they couldn’t get out.

The lies had to be done.

In silence, Bose entered the room he had so recently banished Tallis to. When he entered, followed closely by de Winter, he found Tallis standing over by the lancet windows that overlooked Wintercroft’s crowded bailey. The young knight turned expectantly to the older knights, without a hint of anger or distress on his face. He trusted Bose and he trusted Grayson. It was written all over him. That being the case, Bose thought very carefully about what he was going to say next.

“Now,” Bose began. “Obviously, there is a good deal going on at Wintercroft but you should only be focused on returning to Henry with news of Edward’s betrayal. Is that clear?”

Tallis nodded, but there was doubt in his expression. “What about Tiberius?”

Bose cocked an eyebrow. “You will let me worry about Tiberius,” he said. “I suspect he will find himself in the vault before this day is over, which will more than likely be his permanent home for the weeks and months ahead. As for the accusations of being a spy, he is no more a spy than I am. He is not the sneaky and dishonorable type and I will not have you spreading rumors to that effect. Is that clear?”

“It is, my lord.”

“If I hear tale of Tiberius de Shera being a spy, I will come for you personally and you will not like what I have to say.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Bose critically eyed the young knight a moment before averting his gaze and moving to a chair that was lodged back against the wall. The chair was cushioned with silk pillows and very comfortable. There was also a footstool next to it. Bose lowered his big body onto the chair and pulled forth the stool, plopping his massive boots on it. He was feeling his age this night, stress brought on by passionate young men and their passionate ideas. With a grunt of satisfaction, he sighed.

“Let us move on to another subject, d’Vant,” he said. “I permitted you some time alone with my daughter. You will tell me how that went.”

Tallis was still lingering on Tiberius de Shera and his need for punishment but he forced himself away, focusing on Douglass instead. It was a much more pleasant subject, anyway. He thought back to their brief conversation earlier in the day.

“It went well enough, my lord,” he said. “We were able to converse fairly easily.”

“About what?”

Tallis shrugged. “I relayed a story from my childhood,” he said. “She told me something of hers. It was pleasant.”

“Did she relax somewhat?” Bose asked. “Or was she still unsociable?”

Tallis shook his head. “Mayhap she was at first,” he said, trying to be tactful. “But I was able to educe a smile from her, in any case. She is quite charming when she’s not trying to ignore me.”

Bose cocked an eyebrow. “Charming enough to marry?”

Tallis nodded. “Without question,” he said. Then, he relaxed somewhat, looking at de Moray with a resigned expression. “I am not a fool. I know she is infatuated with de Shera, but I also know she has only known the man a few days. I believe I can quite adequately erase him from her mind given the chance. I would like to be given that chance, my lord. I would make her a fine husband.”

Bose pondered the request or, at least, he pretended to. Having Tallis’ interest in Douglass was all part of his plan. A part of his lies. He pretended to be thoughtful.

“If I say yes, then there is much more to it than simply my permission to marry my daughter,” he said. “She will inherit a great deal from her mother. Her uncles are all powerful warlords in their own right. When you marry into the House of de Moray, the House of du Bonne comes with it because her mother is a du Bonne. They are the guardians of Dorset. Are you aware of this?”

Tallis nodded. “As my family is Cornwall,” he said confidently. “Our marriage will merge two great shires.”

Bose signed heavily, mulling the situation over. Say what you must to keep his mind off Tiberius! he thought to himself. Try not to promise anything if you can help it! He wasn’t used to lying but he was used to games of skill. He considered this an utter test of his skills of persuasion.

“Her mother will want to meet you before we enter into any manner of contract,” he finally said. “When this business of Erith Castle is finished, you will come to Ravendark Castle and meet her mother. Most men believe I am a fool in that I take my wife’s opinion into consideration in matters such as these, but the truth is that you must have Lady de Moray’s permission before anything is finalized. Are you willing to come to Ravendark and meet with my wife?”

Tallis nodded his head. “Aye, my lord.”

“I will give her final say over the matter.”

“I understand, but do I at least have your support?”

“You do.”

Lies! That was the biggest lie of all because Tallis did not have his support. Bose realized with horror that Tiberius did. Tiberius, I am doing this for you. Do not disappoint me, lad!

“Very well,” Bose said, standing up. “Then you will leave Wintercroft after the evening’s meal and ride for Henry and you will leave Tiberius de Shera to me. You and I will discuss a time for meeting Lady de Moray when the matter with Erith is finished.”

“Do I have your word, my lord?”

“You have my word that we will meet, aye.”

Tallis seemed satisfied and Bose was satisfied, too, that he hadn’t given the man any more than a promise that they would meet again. It was not a promise of marriage. Bose looked to Grayson before quitting the room.

“Did you have anything more to say to this, Lord de Winter?” he asked.

Grayson shook his head. “I do not,” he replied. “You and I can discuss what to do with Tiberius in private.”

Bose wriggled his eyebrows. “Something terrible, I am sure.”

“A thrashing at the very least.”

Bose nodded in agreement although it was all for show. He had no intention of doing anything to Tiberius other than spirit him out of Wintercroft because Tiberius had been correct. Bose owed him. Much as Bose was repaying a life-debt to the king by supporting him during this troubling time, he owed the House of de Shera the same life-debt. It was Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius who had saved him and his two children from de Montfort’s assassins, and Bose was in the habit of repaying his debts. By sending d’Vant along his way and then giving Tiberius a chance to escape for Isenhall, he was doing just that. There was no question that it needed to be done, now settled in his mind. The idea that he was betraying Henry by letting Tiberius leave for Isenhall never entered his thoughts because he was doing what he had to do, for himself and for his family. For his honor.

As the three of them took the wide, spiral staircase down to the ground level of the manse where the great hall was, they began to hear voices. Garran, Tiberius… and then there was Douglass. They most definitely heard Douglass. Tallis picked up his pace because he, too, heard her voice, but by the time they reached the bottom of the steps, it was not the situation they had expected to see. They found Garran and Davyss standing side by side while Douglass stood with Tiberius. In fact, he seemed to be holding on to her.

The next thing anyone realized, Tallis had his mighty broadsword unsheathed and he was bolting in Tiberius’ direction.

*

Once they left the upstairs corridor, Tiberius, Garran, and Davyss ended up in the great hall of Wintercroft. Once they came down off the stairs, Garran and Davyss herded Tiberius right into the room. Tiberius wandered into the room, frustrated and edgy, as Garran and Davyss stood by the door, watching the man. It was clear that they were all edgy and unsure what to say to one another. As Davyss and Garran watched, Tiberius abruptly unsheathed his sword and turned to them.

“I can see I am going to have to fight my way out of here,” he said, his focus riveted to the two knights. “I never thought I would hear myself say those words but I fear it is true.”

Neither Garran nor Davyss flinched because they knew if they did, Tiberius would rush them and as tall as he was, and with his incredibly long arm span, he would be most formidable. Garran was an excellent knight and Davyss had already made a name for himself as he fought with the sword of his forefathers, Lespada , but neither man wanted to face a Lord of Thunder in combat and they certainly didn’t want to fight Tiberius. Davyss sighed heavily.

“Are you truly going to kill me, Ty?” he asked, holding up his hands to show that he had no intention of unsheathing his sword. “I will not lift my blade against you.”

“Nor I,” Garran said. “Put the sword away. Let my father negotiate your right to leave Wintercroft.”

Tiberius shook his head. “That is not going to happen and you know it,” he said. “Bose and Grayson must imprison me, don’t you see? D’Vant will run back to Henry and tell the king that two of his premier barons have been unfaithful and that will badly mar the trust between the king and those two great men. Grayson was right. My presence here will ruin all he has worked for. Even so, I do not regret coming and I will still marry Douglass. But our marriage will have to wait. My brothers’ lives are at stake and I must return to Isenhall.”

Garran was deeply sickened by the entire circumstance. “There is a great part of me that hopes d’Vant goes back to the king and tells him that my father is a traitor,” he said. “Then my father will have no choice but to fight for de Montfort. But on the other hand, my father is a legendary knight with a great reputation and I do not want to see that damaged. He is a man of honor. I do not want to see him dishonored.”

Tiberius didn’t lower his sword but it was clear he, too, was affected. “Nor do I,” he replied quietly. “Your father is a great man and Uncle Grayson has been my father-figure since the death of my own father. Clearly, this is an emotional situation so I beg you both, please let me go. Tell them that I overwhelmed you and fled. Let me at least give Gallus and Maximus a fighting chance.”

“Garran?”

A soft, female voice came from the darkened corridor near the stairwell, directly across from the hall. Garran, Davyss, and Tiberius turned to see Douglass emerging from the corridor. Her lovely face was full of curiosity and concern, and even fear, when she noted that Tiberius was holding a sword. She pointed at the man.

“Why is Tiberius armed?” she asked her brother. “What is happening here?”

Garran frowned. “Where did you come from?”

Douglass pointed back into the darkened corridor. “I was consigned to a solar back there,” she said. “But I have grown restless and hungry. What is going on?”

Tiberius spoke before Garran could reply. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “Please come to me.”

Garran grabbed on to his sister. “Don’t go to him,” he told her. “Not… now. Go back where you came from.”

Douglass yanked her arm from her brother. “I will not,” she said flatly. “What is wrong? You are frightening me.”

Garran tried to grab her again but she managed to stay out of arm’s length. “Douglass, stop ,” he commanded. “Do not go to him.”

Douglass was already halfway across the hall, looking at her brother as if he had completely lost his mind. “What is the matter with you?” she demanded. Then, she looked to Tiberius, who was a mere few feet away. “Why is your sword drawn? What is happening here?”

Tiberius kept his hand extended to her and she took it. Rather than pull her against him in a possessive gesture, he simply stood there and held her hand, gently.

“It would seem that there are political dealings afoot, my lady,” he told her calmly. “I have come into some information that my brothers must be made aware of and your brother and Davyss do not want to let me go. For their cause, it would be stupid to let me walk out of here but for my cause, de Montfort’s cause, it could mean the matter of life or death. Life if I am allowed to leave and death if I am not.”

Douglass held on to his hand with both of hers, gazing up at him seriously. “Are you planning to fight your way out, then?”

He smiled weakly, looking at his sword just as she was. “I was thinking on it,” he admitted. Then, he looked at her. “Come with me, Douglass. Come with me back to Isenhall and we shall be married, just as I told you we would. Will you come?”

Douglass didn’t hesitate. “Of course I will,” she said. “But you must put your sword away. I will not go with you if you intend to fight my brother or father. There will be no bloodshed. Is that clear?”

Tiberius immediately sheathed his blade. “It is, my lady,” he said. “But you must understand that it will be difficult for you and me to simply walk out of here if I do not present a weapon.”

Douglass turned to her brother. “Is this true?” she asked him. “Are you preventing Tiberius from leaving to return to his brothers so that he must fight his way free?”

Garran nodded. “He overheard information that must not make it to de Montfort,” he said. “Father has asked Davyss and I to hold him here until he decides what is to be done.”

Douglass frowned. “What does that mean?” she wanted to know. “Why must you decide what is to be done with Tiberius?”

Garran was losing his patience with his sister, who had now put herself in a precarious situation with a man who could quite easily take her hostage. Garran didn’t truly believe Tiberius would do that, but he also knew that Tiberius would do anything to get to his brothers. The situation was growing more tense by the moment.

“Come here, Douglass,” Garran said, trying to manipulate her into leaving Tiberius. “I must tell you something in confidence. Will you please come to me?”

Douglass shook her head. “I will not,” she said, looking between her brother and Davyss. “There is something terrible happening here and I will not leave. You will not hurt Tiberius if I remain next to him.”

Garran sighed faintly. “We do not wish to hurt Tiberius in any case,” he told her. “How could you think that?”

Douglass didn’t answer. She was still glaring at her brother. After a moment, she turned to look at Tiberius.

“What has happened that you must flee to Isenhall to warn your brothers?” she wanted to know. “Will you tell me what you know?”

Tiberius smiled at her, a gesture that had the ability to completely disarm her. How could anything be wrong in the world with a smile like that?

“The details would not concern you,” he said softly. “Suffice it to say that I must go or my brothers will die. As much as I adore you, nay… as much as I love you, I must return to Isenhall. I must fight with my brothers, Douglass. I should never have left them but my heart was with you… I had to make a difficult choice. Now I must make another one. I must return to Isenhall any way I can. Even unto the death.”

Douglass reached out, grasping his hand and holding it fast. “I love you, also,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Tiberius, of course I do. I told you that you would always be my forever and I meant it. Where you go, I go, and we are going to Isenhall.”

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it sweetly. For a moment, it was just the two of them in that room; no Garran, no Davyss, no Henry, and no de Montfort. Just them and the love they had declared for one another. Tiberius wanted very badly to take her in his arms but he didn’t want their first true embrace and their first kiss to be public. For once, he didn’t want to make a spectacle of something as intimate as a kiss. He wanted it to be something just the two of them would witness, something meaningful and special. He wanted to show their newly-found love the respect it deserved.

“Then get behind me,” he commanded after a moment. “I am going to try and walk out of here without a fight. Stay close.”

Nodding fearfully, Douglass tucked in behind him, her hands on his waist. He was so tall that her head only came to mid-back on him, and she laid her head against him for a moment, feeling his warmth and strength. It was a thrilling moment for her, but it also served to fuel her fear. She was terrified that Tiberius was going to get hurt if he tried to leave without being able to brandish a weapon, as he had promised her he wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to see her father and brother injured but she didn’t want to see Tiberius injured, either. Slowly, Tiberius began to walk towards Davyss and Garran.

“Will you let me pass, Davyss?” Tiberius asked. “I am asking that you let me pass without resistance. As a personal favor to me and to Gallus and Maximus, I ask you. Will you honor me?”

Davyss was preparing to hold his ground, as miserable as he had ever been. “I cannot,” he muttered hoarsely. “You know I cannot, Ty. Please do not ask me.”

Tiberius didn’t slow down. He kept a slow, steady pace, drawing ever-closer to Davyss as Garran drew close to Davyss as well, shoulder to shoulder, in a show of solidarity.

“Don’t, Ty,” Garran begged softly. “Please don’t push this matter. We cannot let you go.”

“Is it because of your sister?” Tiberius asked softly. “Is it because she has joined herself to me?”

Garran shook his head. “It is not that, not any longer,” he said. “You have convinced me that your feelings for her are true. I know you too well. I know what it is when you are infatuated, but with my sister… it is different. I know it is different and I am no longer resistant. Just do not prove me wrong, ever, or I will kill you. You know that.”

Tiberius paused. He was only a few feet away, looking at Garran and knowing the man spoke the truth. All he could do was nod. But more than that, he could see that he was going to have to lay hands upon both of the knights to move them out of the way. His heart was aching in so many ways that it was difficult to isolate just one. All he knew was that this situation, the one they had always feared would separate them from their closest friends, was about to do just that. He was about to hurt his friends and he almost couldn’t stand the pain. But he couldn’t stand the loss of his brothers even more.

“Please,” Tiberius begged, one last time. “Please move aside so that I may save Gallus and Maximus. For my brothers’ sakes, will you please move aside?”

There was such sorrow in the room, such grief between them. Garran was stricken with it, as was Davyss. But before they could reply, denying Tiberius yet again and undoubtedly entering into some manner of physical altercation with him, they all heard the sing of metal as a sword was unsheathed. Tiberius turned in the direction of the sound only to see Tallis flying off the staircase and hurling himself in his direction, weapon drawn.

Quite quickly, the situation turned deadly.