Chapter Seventeen #2
Keeva could see she didn’t quite understand.
In truth, Keeva wasn’t even sure she understood.
“Because men like Bric are perfect,” she said softly.
“Perfect warriors who inspire the armies. Men look to knights like Bric and they have faith in their strength. When that strength falls, they all fall.”
“I do not believe that. It does not seem fair.”
“Fair or not, it is the truth,” Keeva said.
“I come from a family of warriors that believes in this ideal of the perfect warrior, and Bric is part of that family. That means he has had a good deal to live up to. He has two younger brothers, Brendan and Ryan, and they are both just like Bric. They all fostered in England, as Bric did, but only Bric actually serves in England.”
Eiselle was interested in anything that had to do with her husband’s background. “He did not tell me that he fostered in England,” she said, “but he did tell me of his brothers.”
Keeva sat back in her chair, thinking of her big, loud Irish family that she missed so much.
“Our family is from Munster,” she said. “In fact, our family is descended from the High Kings of Munster, but Munster is a region with a great deal of English influence. English lords have properties there and, long ago, my ancestor knew it was better to ally with England than fight to the death. He wanted peace for his people, so he agreed to allow some of his young men to foster in England and learn English ways. Bric fostered in the finest houses, you know – Bowes Castle in Durham – before returning to Ireland to share what he’d learned with other Irish warriors.
When I was betrothed to Daveigh, he came with me, back to England where he already had many friends.
Bric’s bond with his English counterparts runs deep. ”
Eiselle was looking at Bric’s sleeping face as Keeva spoke.
“Friends,” she murmured. An idea was coming to her as she thought on Keeva’s story.
“My cousin, Dash, adores Bric. He speaks very highly of him. Keeva… if I write down some notes, can you pen Dash a missive and have it delivered to Ramsbury Castle right away?”
Keeva nodded. “Of course, love. Why?”
Eiselle was on the verge of a plan that was lifting her spirits the more she thought on it.
She’d expressed her concern to Manducor about not having lived with knights, about not knowing what they were going through.
But even if she didn’t, there were men who loved Bric and knew exactly what he was going through. Perhaps men willing to help him.
Men who might come to Bedingfeld.
“Because you have given me an idea,” she said.
“You said that Bric has many friends. He has men who love him. I know you said that men who suffer as Bric is suffering do not speak of it, but I cannot believe his friends would not want to help him. Dash, for example. I cannot believe he would judge Bric for suffering so.”
Keeva knew Dashiell and his reputation as a fine, fair knight. “I cannot believe he would, either.”
Eiselle lifted her hands. “Then who better to help Bric through this terrible state than those friends who adore him?” she said.
“Surely Dash will know what to do, because with God as my witness, I certainly do not. Mayhap, instead of hiding Bric’s situation, we should ask for help.
I ask you to write to Dash immediately and ask him to come to Bedingfeld Manor. ”
Keeva appeared rather encouraged by the suggestion. “Do you think he will?”
Eiselle was feeling increasing excitement over her idea, thinking that finally there might be some genuine hope for Bric. Perhaps Dashiell would give him the understanding and guidance he needed.
“I do,” she said firmly. “If Bric is suffering, he will want to help. I know it.”
As Eiselle rushed over to the table that held Bric’s writing kit so she could scratch out a few notes, Keeva thought that her suggestion was a very good one.
Eiselle could give Bric all of the love and support he could ever need, but it might not be enough.
Only a man who understood battle and sacrifice might truly be able to get to the core of Bric’s issues, and Keeva knew for a fact that there were many men who owed Bric their very lives.
Men who would be willing to help.
Daveigh couldn’t help because he was too close to the problem.
Pearce now had his hands full with the command of the de Winter war machine, so he couldn’t help, either.
Therefore, the logical solution was to seek those men who knew Bric, and loved him, and would be willing to do anything to help him.
Perhaps there was hope, after all.
For the first time in days, Keeva began to feel some relief.
The next morning when Eiselle and a groggy Bric were loaded in to a fortified carriage for the trip to Bedingfeld, Keeva sent a rider with her missive straight to Ramsbury Castle in Wiltshire. The recipient of that missive, Dashiell du Reims, was one man who literally owed Bric his life.
Help would soon be on the way.