Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

1271 A.D.

Isenhall Castle

“G rab him!” Maximus shouted. “Grab him or he will get away!”

Tiberius threw himself forward, grabbing at Cassius, but Cassius was stronger than a bull. He pulled his uncle along with him as he struggled across the hall but he was sent to his knees when his Uncle Gallus and his father leapt on top of him as well. Even though Cassius was pinned on the floor by three very big men, he was still struggling to break free. He was clawing at the floor of Isenhall’s great hall, trying to pull himself out from under the pile of men.

“You made this… this d-deal,” Cassius grunted. “I d-did not agree to it!”

Maximus was trying very hard not to laugh. Tiberius, who had Cassius around the shoulders, was losing the battle against the giggles, and they couldn’t see Gallus’ face because he was lying on Cassius’ legs.

“Great Bleeding Christ,” Gallus groaned. “He is cutting off the circulation in my arm. He has me pinned!”

Tiberius started to giggle and he lost his hold. Sensing his uncle’s weakness, Cassius tried to break free but the three de Shera brothers tightened their grip. Maximus reached over his son’s head and hooked his fingers in the man’s nostrils, pulling his head up. With his arms pinned, Cassius howled.

“Let me go!” he demanded. “Cease your torture!”

Maximus wasn’t pulling hard enough to hurt but hard enough so that it must have been uncomfortable. “Swear to me you will not run if we let you go,” he said calmly.

Cassius squeezed his eyes shut, defiant and in pain. “I will not!”

“Then we are going to be here a very long time, Cassius,” Maximus said. “You are making an arse out of yourself. Turn around and see your brothers and sisters and cousins laughing at you.”

Maximus looked over his shoulder to see a gaggle of children standing in the entry to the great hall. When they saw Maximus looking at them, grinning, they started to giggle and squeal. Maximus laughed at his sons, daughter, nieces, and nephews.

“Come in, everyone,” he said. “Come and sit on Cassius. He is being quite foolish, you know. He deserves to be sat upon.”

The dam burst and children rushed in. The first to pounce on Cassius were his younger brothers– Augustus, who had seen twelve years, and Kellen, who had seen ten years. They were both back from fostering at Kenilworth Castle, big and strong boys for their age. They were followed by their younger cousins, Magnus and Bose, sons of their uncle, Tiberius, and after those four, the very young children piled on after them– three and four-year old Lucius and Justus, who looked just like their father, Maximus, and then the girls came– eight-year-old Elizabetha, daughter of Maximus, and twins Thomasina and Josephine, three-year-old daughters of Tiberius. All of the children piled on to Cassius, who was by now simply laying there and trying to cover his head because Thomasina and Josephine seemed to think it was a very good idea to sit on it. He wasn’t fighting back in the least now.

The only child left was not really a child at all, but a lad bordering on manhood. Bhrodi de Shera, the oldest of the children at thirteen years of age, stood in the entry to the great hall and watched the frolicking with distaste in his expression. His father, who had since pushed himself off Cassius to allow the children to pile on, went to his son.

“Why do you not jump on Cassius like the rest of them?” Gallus wanted to know. “He deserves the punishment.”

Bhrodi frowned. He was a very serious young man recently returned from spending a couple of years in Wales with his grandfather, Gaerwen, who was old and feeble these days and did not travel. Bhrodi had been spending time with the old man, learning the ways of his Welsh heritage because his mother wished it. He had also been training with Welsh fighters and had learned the Welsh way of battle, something his father had been trying to work out of him. Bhrodi would one day hold the lands of Coventry and it was important he understand his English heritage as well. But the result, at this age, was a lad who was torn between two cultures and didn’t really fit in either of them. He watched his cousins and uncles roll about on the ground.

“It all seems rather silly to me,” Bhrodi finally said. “The man does not want to be married, Father. Why must he be forced?”

Gallus smiled faintly at his only child, his beloved son. “This marriage was brokered many years ago by your Uncle Maximus,” he said. “Cassius is to wed the daughter of a great de Shera ally. He is simply nervous because has had not yet met her.”

Bhrodi looked at his father. “Who is the ally?”

Gallus glanced over at the pile on the floor, noting that Maximus and Tiberius were now standing by, watching as their children beat up on Cassius.

“Bose de Moray,” he said. “Cassius is to marry your Aunt Douglass’ youngest sister, Lady Sable. She should be here very soon. In fact, that is why we are all here, to witness the marriage of Cassius to Sable. It is a joyous occasion.”

Bhrodi doubted that by the way his older cousin was resisting the union. “If it is, then someone forgot to tell Cassius,” he said. “He wants to leave.”

Gallus shook his head. “He cannot leave,” he said flatly. “There will be more guests arriving, including your Aunt Courtly’s sister and her husband.”

Bhrodi thought on the aunt he’d seen fairly frequently while he had been in Wales because she didn’t live far from his grandfather’s castle. “Aunt Isadora is coming?” he asked, watching his father nod. “I… I do like her husband, Kirk. He has come to Rhydilian Castle to sup with Grandfather and me. He has also taught me some skill with a sword. He is very good.”

Gallus smiled. “St. Héver is quite talented with a blade,” he agreed. “They are bringing their son, Keenan, whom your Aunt Courtly has not yet seen. She is most anxious to see her nephew.”

Bhrodi didn’t much care about his new cousin. He was still looking at Cassius, who was now trying to sit up but the toddlers wouldn’t let him. As Cassius finally gave up his struggles to escape his family and began tickling little ribs, a de Shera soldier entered the hall looking for Gallus.

“My lord,” the soldier addressed the earl when he finally spied him. “We have spotted two incoming parties, one from the north and one from the south.”

Gallus nodded in acknowledgement, looking to his son. “What should you ask the soldier, Bhrodi?”

The question was all part of the training Gallus had been trying to give the boy since his return from Wales. He was trying to force the boy to think, to assume some of the authority that the earldom he would inherit someday would require. Bhrodi, knowing he was being tested, gave his question serious thought.

“Do you see any standards?” he asked the soldier.

The soldier fought off a grin at the young lad, trying very hard to be cool and in command. “Black and red de Moray colors from the south, my lord,” he said. “They should be here very shortly. As for the group coming in from the north, we cannot say yet but we believe it to be de Winter. I am sending out scouts to make sure.”

Bhrodi nodded and thanked the soldier, looking at his father to make sure he should not have asked more questions. Gallus smiled proudly and Bhrodi let out a sigh of relief. As the soldier headed out of the hall, Cassius, who had heard the man’s report, climbed to his feet.

“So she is here,” he said even as children were hanging on him. “I suppose I c-cannot escape now even if I tried. They will see me and they will pursue.”

Maximus came to stand next to his disgruntled son, now twenty-eight years of age and a very big and very powerful knight in his own right. Cassius de Shera rode with the de Shera armies, with his father and uncles, and he was well-respected and well-liked by the men. He had Maximus’ fighting ability, Gallus’ cunning, and Tiberius’ intelligence all rolled into one. The stammer he had been born with was now hardly mentionable and he could bellow clear and determined orders better than his father could. More than that, he was quite pursued by women demanding their fathers make marital contracts with him but de Moray had been smart enough those years ago to lay his claim first for his youngest daughter. Now, Lady Sable de Moray was of age and the wedding mass was planned for the morrow if the groom didn’t escape.

“If I were you, I would not try to run from Bose de Moray,” Maximus said to his son. “If he catches you, I will not be able to help or defend you. You are on your own.”

Cassius frowned at his father, noting that his Uncle Tiberius was now standing next to him. Knowing he was cornered, defeated, he put his hands on his head and groaned.

“No offense to Aunt Douglass, for she is a lovely woman,” Cassius said, “but I have not even seen her sister. What if the female beauty in the family is not consistent? No one has even seen Lady Sable for years because she has been fostering. What if she is a horror? Must I still marry her?”

Maximus was sincerely trying not to grin at his desperate son. “Look at your Aunt Douglass,” he admonished. “Can you truly believe a full-blooded sister would be a horror?”

Cassius couldn’t, in truth, but he still wasn’t excited about this marriage. Therefore, he avoided the question.

“I am simply too young to be m-married,” he said, frowning. “I still want to travel the world.”

Tiberius, standing next to him, cocked a wry eyebrow. “So take your wife with you.”

“I want to go places where women are not welcome!”

Tiberius burst into laughter while Maximus spoke, incredulous. “Where in God’s Good Name would that be?” he demanded. “A harem of a great sheik? A Roman bath meant entirely for men?”

Tiberius was still laughing at Cassius, who knew that weeks and months and even years of protests were all in vain. Therefore, he simply shut his mouth. When he didn’t answer, his father poked him in the arm.

“Look around you,” Maximus said quietly. He was pointing to the array of younger brothers and cousins standing around him. “You are frightening your brothers with your fear of marriage. If you have imparted your feelings onto them, your mother will have your head. You had better watch what you say. Already, the younger ones are suspicious.”

Cassius looked at Augustus and Kellen, standing a few feet away from him. “Would you want to marry someone you have never met?” he demanded, pointing to Augustus. “Well?”

As Maximus rolled his eyes, Augustus responded. “I will choose my own wife,” he said in a tone that sounded very much like Maximus. “I will not let Papa choose her for me.”

Maximus cocked an eyebrow at his son who had much the same personality as his mother; frank, honest, and forceful at times. “Is that so?” he said. “We shall see about that, lad.”

Augustus looked to his younger brothers for their reaction, hoping he hadn’t said anything that would greatly provoke their father. Maximus was a very loving father but a strict disciplinarian. With five sons and a daughter, he had to be. Uncle Tiberius was considered the peacemaker among all of the offspring. He was the one his nieces and nephews ran to when Maximus or Gallus was enraged. He’d been known to hide children from angry parents until the parents had the opportunity to cool down. With five young children and his wife pregnant with their sixth, he was much adored by all of the de Shera progeny.

As Augustus backed off of a confrontation with his father and Cassius stood among the men and fumed, Gallus returned his attention to Bhrodi.

“You will not be reluctant to marry, will you?” he asked his son.

Bhrodi, like most boys his age, hadn’t truly thought on the idea of marriage. He lifted his shoulders. “If she is beautiful and smart, I suppose not,” he said, rather arrogantly. Then, he shifted the subject because, like Augustus, he really had nothing much to say about it. “Papa, are Violet and Lily coming home for the wedding?”

Gallus shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “There is some great feast or festival going on in London right now and they begged to remain. Evidently, being part of Edward’s court is more important than coming home, but do not be insulted– the men I sent to London with your sisters to watch over them and guard them have told me that they both have their eye on young men there. They are both of marriageable age now and I suppose that is what is most important to them.”

Bhrodi shrugged. He didn’t know women’s minds and didn’t pretend to. As he made his way over to Cassius to perhaps offer some condolences for his coming wedding, there was a commotion in the entry. Everyone turned to see Jeniver and Courtly enter the hall.

Jeniver was carrying a layer of clothing across her arms as Courtly followed, carrying her year-old son, Pollux, on her hip. Courtly began waving the children over to her.

“Joey and Tommie!” she called to Tiberius’ twin daughters. “Aunt Jeni must put you in a clean tunic. Hurry, now. Lucius and Justus, come here. Elizabetha, help me, please.”

The children were beginning to scramble, rushing to their mother and aunt. “What’s amiss?” Maximus asked as he went to his wife and took his toddler son from her arms. “Why the rush to put clean clothing on the children?”

Courtly had her three-year-old son by the arms, pulling his dirty tunic over his head as the child whined. “Because the de Morays are arriving,” she said. “Douglass has gone to meet them with Charlotte by her side. Ty, you should as well. I promised her we would put the younger children in clean clothing for the introduction to her parents so it does not look as if we have all raised a pack of dirty, wild animals.”

Tiberius left the hall with his older sons Magnus and Bose in tow as Courtly tended his youngest child. But she and Jeniver had their hands full tending all of the children, putting clean clothing on them and wiping off dirty faces. Gallus, Maximus, Bhrodi, and the reluctant bridegroom stood by, watching, waiting for the de Moray family to make an appearance. Cassius thought it was all a lot of fuss over nothing, fuming, as Gallus and Maximus watched the man for signs that he was going to try and bolt again.

“Hugh de Winter was married two months ago,” Gallus said to Maximus as they watched Cassius twitch. “I went to the wedding, if you recall.”

Maximus nodded. “I do,” he replied. “Hugh married Roger Mortimer’s daughter, didn’t he?”

Gallus nodded. “He did, indeed,” he said, speaking loudly with the sole purpose of Cassius overhearing his conversation. “He inherited a baronetcy from her. Baron Audley, you know. Quite prestigious, you know. And his wife is lovely. He was reluctant to marry, too, but it worked out in his favor.”

Maximus glanced at his son to see if he was listening to them. “Davyss is bringing his wife, Devereux, and their four children,” he said, returning his attention to Gallus. “He seems to have changed a good deal since marriage. Often, it settles a man. Fills a need in him. I know it did with me.”

They were trying to make marriage sound wonderful and happy but Cassius wasn’t buying what they were attempting to sell. He simply rolled his eyes and looked away, wondering just how horrible his bride was going to be. All he knew was that she had been fostering for the past several years in Lincolnshire, or so he thought, and that her name was Sable. That was essentially all he’d ever been told, ever since his father had bartered the contract those years ago. Grossly unhappy as Jeniver and Courtly finished cleaning up the children, he plopped down onto a bench next to the feasting table and brooded.

It was a move that didn’t go unnoticed by Gallus or Tiberius. Cassius was looking at the entire situation as one that would ruin his entire life and there wasn’t anything more they could say about it. As Cassius sat with his chin in his hand, Maximus handed his year-old son back over to Courtly and then turned his attention to Gallus.

“God help us all if that girl is homely,” he muttered. “At least I saw my wife before I married her. I had a choice.”

Gallus nodded. “As did I,” he whispered. “In any case, Cassius has no choice and neither does Lady Sable. I will admit that I am anxious to see her myself.”

Maximus grinned. He could hear commotion outside of the hall entry and he turned his attention in that direction, as did Gallus. In fact, everyone turned their attention towards the entry, enabling Cassius to move away from his family and towards the small service entrance that the servants used. He was fully prepared to run. As he casually made his way in that direction, slowly as not to attract attention, Gallus and Maximus remained focused on the great entry.

“Speaking of Davyss and Hugh has reminded me of something,” Maximus said. “You do not think that Davyss will bring up burying his father here again with Honey, do you?”

Gallus shook his head. “He stopped asking years ago,” he replied. “I was particularly shocked when Lady Katherine de Winter sent a missive asking if I would consider burying her husband next to our mother. Lady Katherine is a woman with balls of steel to ask such a question. I have never met a more brazen and determined woman.”

Maximus chuckled. “How cozy,” he commented dryly. “Burying Uncle Grayson here would create a sweet little threesome with Grayson and Father on either side with Honey in between. What happens when Lady Katherine dies? Do we bury her on top of Honey?”

Gallus started to laugh but his chuckles were cut short as people began to enter the hall. The first one through the door was Tiberius followed closely by a very pregnant Douglass, who looked positively radiant. Following Douglass was Bose, his dark hair now almost completely white, and a small, lovely older woman in a delicate, white wimple and fine gown. Gallus and Maximus immediately moved forward.

“Gallus,” Tiberius called out to him. “Greet Lord de Moray. He has come a very long way to beat you at a game of cards.”

Gallus laughed, extending a hand to Bose, who took it strongly. De Moray had aged a great deal over the past thirteen years but he was still as sharp and as powerful as ever. His black eyes were warm on Gallus and Maximus.

“You do not age, my lord,” he said to Gallus. His gaze then moved to Maximus. “But you look terrible, Baron Allesley. How fortunate you married such a beautiful woman that she can overlook such things.”

Everyone chuckled at Maximus’ expense. “I cannot insult you because you have your womenfolk about you,” he said to Bose. “But, rest assured, when we are alone I will have no such restraint. I will verbally beat you into the ground.”

Bose grinned. He was very glad to be with Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius again. He reached out to the small woman standing beside him. “I shall try to prepare myself,” he said wryly. “But until that time, let us move on with pleasantries. I should like to introduce you to my wife, Lady Summer du Bonne de Moray, whom you have not yet met. Summer, this is Maximus, Baron Allesley, and Gallus, the Earl of Coventry.”

Summer de Moray was a lovely woman with beautiful, pale green eyes. Her hair was covered by her wimple but they could see tendrils of blond peeking out. She greeted Gallus and Maximus politely. “I have heard so m-much about you, my lords,” she said, a slight stammer in her speech. “I am t-truly honored.”

Gallus took her outstretched hand gently in greeting. “It is our pleasure, Lady de Moray,” he said. “To finally meet Douglass’ mother is truly delightful. Welcome to Isenhall.”

Summer smiled, a gesture that looked exactly like Douglass. “You are soon to have another daughter of m-mine,” she said, her gaze turning to Maximus. “Baron Allesley, it is your son that my youngest daughter is pledged to. I will be honest when I say she did not want to come at all. We had to practically tie her to the wagon. She is young and stubborn, but I assure you that she is a kind and obedient girl.”

Maximus had to laugh. “We have had much the same issue with Cassius today,” he said. “Arranged marriages are very difficult when the couple has not seen one another, so let us get on with the introductions. I am looking forward to meeting Lady Sable.”

Summer and Bose turned to look at the rear of the group of people that had accompanied them and Bose held out his hand, obviously focused on one of the persons back in the pack. As he did so, Maximus turned to bring Cassius forward and was stricken when he saw that his son was almost to the servant’s door, preparing to escape. He boomed.

“Cassius!” he shouted. “Come here this instant!”

Cassius had his hand on the iron latch, cringing when he heard his father shout. He was at the door, very nearly to freedom at that point, and it would have been so easy to run. But run to where? He truly had nowhere to go and his father would only catch him. Nay, if he ran now with everyone watching, it would only make a bad situation worse. Frustrated, angry, he took his hand off the latch and turned to look at the group of people standing over near the hall entry. He prepared to meet his doom.

As he watched, a young woman emerged on Bose de Moray’s arm. She was petite, with long, shiny hair the color of polished copper, and skin as pale as cream. Cassius could see her as she stiffly greeted his father and uncle, and he could clearly see when she looked in his direction because Maximus was pointing at him. Intrigued just the slightest, Cassius began to make his way back to the gathering, his gaze never leaving the small, beautiful woman with the copper-colored hair. It was so very shiny and as he came closer, he could see that she was dressed in a broadcloth gown that was dark brown in color, a gown that seem to emphasize a deliciously curvaceous figure.

God’s Bones , Cassius thought. Is it possible that this is Lady Sable ? There was only one way to find out. Cassius went to stand beside his father, no longer the petulant bridegroom but the seemingly very interested betrothed of a stunningly lovely young woman. The glorious words that came out of de Moray’s mouth confirmed that she was, indeed, Lady Sable, and at that moment, Cassius couldn’t even remember a time when he was reluctant about this marriage. For all he could remember, he had always been looking forward to it. His father spoke to him at some point and even nudged him to get his attention, but Cassius couldn’t take his eyes off of Lady Sable. He couldn’t believe his good fortune.

More guests arrived later in the day and early the next morning, including the House of de Winter and Courtly’s sister, Isadora, but Cassius was hardly aware. He had been sitting with Sable and her parents since the moment they’d been introduced, hanging on Sable’s every word, coming to know a young lady who also had a bit of a stutter in her voice just as her mother did and just as Cassius did. He felt drawn to her as he’d never felt drawn to anyone in his life, a kindred spirit in their similar speech patterns, and when the marriage took place the next day at Vespers in Isenhall’s tiny chapel with not only the living as witnesses, but generations of de Sheras in their crypts, Cassius took his vows with the greatest sincerity and soon enough, Lady Sable de Moray became Lady Sable de Moray de Shera. Cassius was thrilled.

At the wedding feast, Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius stood back and watched the festivities. They watched Cassius and Sable’s joy as well as Bose and Summer’s bittersweet happiness as they married off their youngest daughter. They watched Davyss de Winter tell wild stories to an enraptured audience of his lovely wife as well as Courtly’s sister, Isadora, and her husband, Kirk St. Héver, who rolled his eyes periodically at Davyss’ very tall tales. The de Wolfe brothers were no longer with the House of de Shera, having returned north to serve with their father, William de Wolfe, but Stefan du Bois was still with the House of de Shera these days, in charge of a new stable of fine young knights. All of them were feasting in the hall this night, enjoying the fine food and celebrating a good life.

For all of them, especially the Lords of Thunder, it had been hard-fought to get to this moment. For once, there was peace in the land with a new king and new ideas, but even so, there had always been joy within the walls Isenhall no matter what. On this night of nights, the joy knew no bounds.

“I feel her here, you know,” Gallus murmured softly.

Maximus turned to look at him. “Who?”

Gallus smiled faintly. “Honey,” he said confidently. “Can’t you feel her? She is everywhere.”

Tiberius, standing on the other side of Maximus with a cup of fine wine in his hand, nodded in agreement. “She is sitting in her chair near the hearth,” he said, pointing over to the snapping, sparking hearth and a small, cushioned chair that was positioned there. “I can see her as clear as day. She is sitting there, watching all of us with great approval.”

Maximus could see his mother, too, as he’d seen her sitting in that same chair, in that same position, for many years. “No matter what we have done in life and no matter how hard we have fought or what we have done to survive, a night like this is our reward,” he said quietly. “It makes all of the trials and tribulations worthwhile. Although I wish Honey had lived to see all of this, it is enough to know that she lived as long as she did. But tonight… tonight, I miss her very much. I wish I could tell her that.”

Gallus could feel himself becoming very emotional. “She knows, Max,” he whispered. “Her presence is here, in this hall, in every child we have and every breath we take. She knows you miss her. She knows we all miss her.”

Maximus could feel himself growing emotional as well. “If there was one more thing you could say to her, Gal,” he wondered, “just one more thing… what would you say?”

Gallus took a deep, thoughtful breath as he contemplated the question. “One thing only?” he asked rhetorically. “I suppose I would tell her that I loved her.”

“And I would thank her.”

It was Tiberius who spoke. Gallus and Maximus turned to look at him. “Thank her, Ty?” Maximus said. “Why?”

Tiberius smiled. “Look at what we have,” he said, indicating Jeniver, Courtly, and Douglass as they sat talking to their guests. They were three of the most beautiful, smart, and passionate women in all of England. “Look how fortunate we are. We owe it all to Honey. She made us what we are, don’t you see? Without her, there would be no ‘us’. There would be no Lords of Thunder.”

Gallus grinned. “How right you are,” he said. “I would thank her, too.”

Inevitably, their attention turned towards the chair still next to the hearth, the chair that their mother had favored, the one they’d never had the heart to move. She was still there, watching them, proud of her sons as only a mother could be. Proud of the men they had become and the families they had raised.

Aye, she would have been very proud. And she would have been very happy that the legend of the Lords of Thunder, for one and for all, would live on.

* THE END *