Chapter Sixteen #2
Niclas stared at the man a moment, pondering his words, before clearing his throat softly.
He turned to Thomas and the de Nerra brothers who were clearly looking for an answer.
“Braxton de Nerra is married to the Lady Gray,” he explained.
“If she is a hostage, she is the most willing hostage I have ever seen.”
Thomas bolted off the bench, his blue-green eyes wide. “What’s this you say?” he barked. “Braxton has taken a wife?”
Niclas nodded, a faint smile coming to his lips. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. In fact, I…” he caught himself before he could finish the story, which would not go well in his favor. “Suffice it to say that he has married her and when last I saw them, they were very happy.”
Robert was grinning like a fool while Davis and Steven simply appeared stunned. Only Thomas seemed capable of speaking in light of this shocking news. “Why did you not tell me my son had taken a wife before now?” he demanded.
“Because it was not my place, my lord. That news should come from your son.”
Thomas growled and made a face, but he understood. He waved his hands dramatically. “But what about Erith Castle?” he persisted.
Niclas shook his head. “I do not know anything about Erith Castle, my lord.”
“Nothing at all? Braxton did not mention it to you?”
“Nay, my lord. It was never discussed.”
Thomas’ gaze lingered on the big knight a moment longer before turning to his sons. They all gazed back at him with varied degrees of confusion and delight. Thomas scratched his oily head again before flipping a dirty hand at the three men.
“Mount the army,” he ordered. “We ride for Erith to clear up this mess before Braxton gets himself into trouble.”
Steven and Davis were on the move, racing from the great hall and calling to the sergeants. Robert, however, remained behind. He went to his father and clapped the man on the shoulder.
“You make excuses,” he teased quietly. “Your true motivation in riding to Erith is to meet Braxton’s wife. You want to see how well he did for himself.”
Thomas growled at him and stomped away, leaving Robert laughing silently. But Niclas was still standing there and Robert went to him, eyeing the man thoughtfully. He sobered.
“Tell me the truth,” he lowered his voice. “What was Braxton doing when you last saw him? Did he mention anything about Erith Castle?”
Niclas shook his head. “I met your brother at a tournament in Milnthorpe,” he said. “He competed briefly until one of his men was gravely injured. When last I saw him, he and his wife were camped outside of Milnthorpe. That is all I know, my lord.”
Robert’s eyebrows lifted. “Compete, did he? How did he fare?”
“Only one bout. He unseated his opponent and gained his horse.”
Robert grinned. “That sounds like my brother,” he agreed. “And his wife; is she truly lovely?”
“As a new spring morning, my lord.”
“But there was no hint that she might have been married to him against her will?”
“Absolutely not. It was clear to me that she adored him.” Unfortunately for me.
Robert nodded, digesting the information. “And my brother is well these days?”
“Well and rich. He travels like a prince.”
Robert’s grin was back; he had a special fondness for Braxton, the only brother out of the four who had enough drive and ambition to create his own life away from Black Fell.
The man had done exceedingly well for himself over the years, something that Robert was proud of.
He admired Braxton for not following the path that the rest of the family chose.
Braxton was, and always had been, his own man.
“I miss my brother,” he muttered in reflection.
Niclas smiled faintly. “He said the same thing about you.”
Robert glanced at him, his grin broadening.
Then he looked at his hands, disfigured by the disease that twisted and enlarged his joints.
He flexed them, feeling the pain that was his daily companion.
He could hardly hold a cup these days, much less a sword, but he had once been a very skilled knight. He missed those days.
“It is not my normal routine to ride with the army,” he said softly. “But to see Braxton, I would ride to the ends of the earth. Have my charger saddled and waiting.”
Niclas nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
“And then you will ride ahead and tell Braxton that we are coming.”
“By your command, my lord.”
The big black knight quit the hall, leaving Robert and the messenger as the only two occupants. Still flexing his fingers, Robert turned to the de Vesci messenger.
“You will return to the earl and tell him that Gilderdale rides for Erith,” he said. “Have no doubt we shall seek the truth of the situation, whatever it may be. Where is Erith, anyway?”
“West of the town of Levens in Cumbria, I am told.”
“Very well. Go, then; do as you are told.”
The messenger saluted sharply and left. Robert watched the man go, his mind moving to the adventure ahead.
The messenger was correct; Braxton was a well-known mercenary and mercenaries were only out for profit.
He wondered if Braxton had married the lady of Erith to gain wealth or if there was some other reason.
At this point, he was as confused as the rest of them.
But he fully intended to know the truth.
*
For five weeks, Erith was a fortress under construction.
There was a frenzied pace about it and the work went on day and night.
Dallas and Braxton took turns overseeing the rebuilding, hardly sleeping a few hours in between shifts; they were both master builders, precise in their measurements and plans.
Braxton could do the most complicated arithmetic in his head, which translated into stronger walls and a stronger outer gatehouse. The man was a talented architect.
They had sent the bodies of Roger and William de Clare back to Roger’s stronghold, Elswick Castle.
Braxton and Dallas knew, without question, that the death of the earl’s cousin would not be well met but there wasn’t much they could do about it.
The wheels were in motion and they knew that sooner or later Gloucester would seek revenge.
Their best hope for protection was to be prepared.
The past few weeks saw other changes as well.
Braxton and Dallas now worked more as a team rather than a commander and his subordinate.
The marriage of Dallas to Brooke had created a familial relationship and Braxton relaxed his usual strict standards of conduct with the man, although it was still very clear who was in charge.
Still, Dallas seemed to be growing as both a knight and a man.
Something about Brooke brought out another side of him and Braxton watched the transformation with approval; Dallas had always been obedient, wise and talented, but now he had added something deeper to the mix.
He smiled more, seemed more apt to go the extra effort in all things: the men, a word of approval, assistance with rebuilding his fortress.
Dallas was moving from obedient knight into a man of depth and character.
And then there was Brooke; since the day she had chased Edgar out onto the main road, there hadn’t been a harsh word between her and the young squire.
In fact, she had nearly stopped paying attention to him altogether because her focus was fully on her new husband.
She had always been rather careful with her appearance, at least as careful as their meager surroundings would allow, but now she was positively intense about how she looked.
Dallas would praise her for the way she arranged her hair or the loveliness of her eyes, which only seemed to make her more conscious of how she looked.
It was evident that she wanted to please her husband, and please she did.
In spite of any reservation Dallas might have had in the beginning, he was completely smitten with the lovely young lady.
The beautiful wild rose was becoming a gorgeous, cultivated one.
During this time of building and romance, there were other things going on as well; Geoff, for instance, was healing admirably from his brush with death and was trying his best to resume a normal routine.
Braxton hadn’t gone so far as to order Geoff to remain in bed but he had spent a good deal of time trying to reason with him.
Geoff managed to stay down for another day and night before rising early one morning and making his way, however slowly, to the inner bailey.
Braxton knew that there was no keeping the man down, so he gave him a job supervising the rebuild of the inner portcullis, the one so badly damaged by Garber’s trebuchet practice.
Geoff supervised the builders, making him feel useful without actually exerting himself.
Gray was also on the mend from her run-in with her mother and as the days passed, she watched Brooke transform from a silly young girl into a responsible young woman.
They hadn’t spoken of the day when Constance had been forcibly escorted from the keep and, as time passed and their new lives unfolded, it was easier to forget about the vicious old lady and get on with their lives.
Even now as Gray sat in the great hall after the morning meal, she watched Brooke rush around to make sure the nooning meal was in full preparation.
It took foresight and thought, which Brooke was trying very hard to do.
Even the keep itself was transforming under her hand and Braxton’s money.
As a mother, Gray found herself moved by the sight of her daughter growing up and thanking God that Constance was no longer around to poison her.
They were happier than they had ever been.