Chapter Sixteen #2
Keeva’s eyes began to fill with tears but she fought them, struggling to maintain her composure.
“My husband sent the messenger ahead of the returning army, so what I am to tell you has come from him,” she said.
“There were many French rebels at Castle Acre and they tried to seize both the castle and the priory. The fighting was fierce, and they fought into the night. You remember last night, Eiselle. There was no moon.”
Eiselle nodded, now greatly concerned for what was to come. “It was as black as ink,” she said. “Only the stars were visible.”
Keeva swallowed the lump in her throat. “Imagine fighting in that darkness,” she said.
“Imagine not being able to see ally or enemy. But our men had to fight in the darkness because the French would not surrender. It was very dark and dangerous, and in the course of the battle, Bric accidentally killed Mylo.”
Eiselle’s hands flew to her mouth in horror. “Nay!” she gasped. “It is not possible!”
Keeva nodded. “I am afraid it is,” she said. “According to the messenger, a French knight tried to kill Bric, but Mylo put himself in harm’s way in order to save Bric. Because it was so dark, Bric did not see that it was Mylo and killed him, thinking he was the enemy.”
Tears flooded Eiselle’s eyes and she blinked, sending them cascading down her face. As she started to weep, Keeva gave her a firm shake.
“Nay,” she hissed. “You will not weep. It is not your right. I must still tell Angela that her husband is dead, and it is not your right to weep. Do you understand me?”
Eiselle did. She realized that everything Keeva said was correct and, very quickly, she stilled her tears. She wiped at her cheeks furiously, struggling to reclaim her composure.
“I am sorry,” she said. “It… it will not happen again. You are correct – it is not my right.”
Keeva could see the pain in her eyes and she felt for the woman. Mostly, she felt for her because of what she would soon be dealing with as her husband returned home.
“You must be strong, Eiselle,” she murmured.
“Bric needs your strength. I did not tell you the rest of the message – Bric is carrying Mylo back to Narborough, but not on horseback. He is walking the entire way with Mylo in his arms and when he gets here, it will be up to us to separate him from Mylo’s body.
I cannot pretend to know what is going through Bric’s mind right now, but surely he is suffering greatly.
The army knows this and that is why they are walking with him.
They are all walking back to Narborough because Bric is. ”
Eiselle stared at her in shock and horror.
It was true she had not spent her life around knights, and she didn’t entirely know the bond they shared, but she could only imagine how strong it must be.
These were men who spent their lives defending each other, fighting with each other, and a bond like that must have been one of the strongest of all bonds.
The army is walking with him. Only men who had great love for Bric would do such a thing, supporting him in this horrible moment.
It was such a touching thing to do, men united in tragedy.
It was then that Eiselle realized, more than ever, that it wasn’t her right to grieve the situation.
That right belonged solely to Bric, Angela, and the de Winter army.
All of them, united in grief.
“Poor Bric,” Eiselle finally breathed. “Tell me what to do, Keeva. Tell me what to do for him and I shall do it.”
Keeva was pleased to see that Eiselle was showing her strength.
The woman had been forced to show a great deal of strength since her marriage to Bric, so she wasn’t surprise.
In fact, she hadn’t really expected anything less.
Keeva let go of her hands and stood up, touching her cheek affectionately.
“I must go to Angela,” she said softly. “She must know of Mylo’s passing.
You will go to the gatehouse and wait for Bric.
When he comes, you will tell him that he must give over Mylo’s body to be tended.
Daveigh said that no one has been able to convince Bric to release Mylo, so it must be you.
He must listen to you. Be firm, but be kind.
Be understanding. But do what you must to force Bric to release Mylo.
Once he does, you must bring Bric to your chamber and keep him there.
Daveigh fears that Bric has suffered some kind of breakdown and we must make sure Bric is safe above all. ”
It was a good deal to absorb but Eiselle forced herself to understand and to agree.
It seemed to her that Bric had survived the battle, but only physically.
The death of Mylo had cut him deep, but just how deep remained to be seen.
Truth be told, Eiselle had seen Bric at his weak points.
She knew the best way to handle him was with love and patience.
At least, she hoped that would work.
There was little choice.
As Keeva went to find Angela, Eiselle left the keep and headed for the gatehouse. It was mid-afternoon on a fine summer day, and she shielded her eyes from the sun as she crossed from the inner bailey and into the vast outer bailey, noting the group of men gathered by the main gatehouse.
There were soldiers everywhere and she normally stayed away from the outer bailey and, in particular, the gatehouse.
So as she drew near the imposing two-storied structure, she naturally slowed her pace, seemingly uncertain about her place in the grand scheme of things.
But Keeva had told her to come to the gatehouse, so here she was.
As she drew near the collection of men, one man in particular approached her.
“Lady MacRohan,” the man addressed her formally. “My name is Roget. I am in command of the gatehouse when the army is away.”
Eiselle looked at the man; he was tall, rather thin, and walked with a limp. “My lord,” she said. “Lady de Winter told me to wait for my husband at the gatehouse.”
Roget nodded, the strain on his features apparent. “Aye, my lady,” he said. “Did… she tell you why?”
“She did.”
“Then you know that he is carrying a dead man.”
Eiselle had understood that, but it hadn’t been in the forefront of her mind. Now, Roget had put it rather bluntly and the mere thought made her queasy stomach feel even more queasy.
“I have been told,” she said. “Lady de Winter has told me that I must ask my husband to release Mylo. That is why I have come.”
Roget simply nodded, the distress on his features evident. He indicated for her to follow him and she did, beneath the enormous gatehouse until they were outside of it, gazing at the road beyond that was clear for a quarter of a mile before disappearing into the trees.
The lands surrounding Narborough were lush and green because of the river, and across the road, Eiselle could see fields of summer flowers blowing in the gentle breeze that came from the east. The gatehouse of Narborough was at an angle, so it faced northeast, while the road that led up to it came from the east, passed by, and then continued on to the west towards the river.
Like most of the men at Narborough, she now stood outside of the gatehouse, looking down the road that led off to the east because the soldiers were looking in that direction. Roget stood beside her, his gaze also on the road leading east.
It seemed to Eiselle that everyone around her was tense with apprehension, knowing what was approaching and fearful to see it.
Truth be told, Eiselle was fearful, too, but she had taken to heart what Keeva had told her – it wasn’t her right to grieve.
She had to do whatever necessary to help her husband, who was evidently in a terrible state.
But much like the men around her, all she could do was wait for him to come.
It was like waiting for a hammer to drop.
“How far away is the army?” she asked Roget.
The old soldier’s focus was on the road. “Not too far away, according to the messenger,” he said. “We should start seeing them shortly.”
Eiselle didn’t know if she felt better or worse about that.
The tension from the army was beginning to affect her, filtering into her veins no matter how hard she tried to shake it off.
The wind was picking up a bit, lifting her hair, swirling around her and whistling.
It only served to enhance the uneasy atmosphere they were all facing.
Waiting and watching for something they’d prefer not to see.
As they stood there, Eiselle heard some commotion off to her right, turning to see Manducor run through the gatehouse, a bundle of material in his arms. He headed straight for Roget.
“I found this,” he said to the man, holding up what appeared to be a horse blanket, dusty with straw. “Will this do?”
Roget nodded. “It will do fine,” he said quietly. “If MacRohan hasn’t covered up the body…”
His gaze trailed over to Eiselle, standing a few feet away. Manducor caught sight of her and immediately understood the implications.
“The women must be spared,” he muttered, handing the blanket over to Roget. “Lady de Chevington must not see her husband in that state.”
As Roget took the blanket, Manducor headed over to Eiselle. She watched him approach.
“They told you what happened?” she asked him.
Manducor nodded. “They did. It is very unfortunate.”
Eiselle’s gaze lingered on him a moment, to perhaps decipher what he truly thought about the situation, before returning her attention to the road.
“I am not sure what to think about any of this,” she said. “I have never been around armies or knights prior to my marriage and I cannot help but feel I have trespassed into a situation that I have no right to be part of.”
Manducor looked at her. “Why would you say that?”