Chapter Twenty-One #2

More scuttling and shouting upon the battlements.

Torches flickered as men ran about. Braxton’s charger danced around excitedly, sensing a battle, and he sat patiently astride the beast, trying to calm it.

After several tense and uneasy moments, a knight suddenly appeared on the wall where it joined with the enormous gatehouse. He held up his gloved hand to Braxton.

“I am Blakeney de Milne, husband to Lord Roger and Lady Anne’s eldest daughter,” he called down to him. “Your wife and daughter are in my custody. Such is the punishment for the deaths of Lord Roger and his son William.”

“Lord Roger and his son William’s deaths were unintentional, I assure you,” Braxton shouted steadily.

“They attacked me first and were killed whilst we defended ourselves. If anyone was wronged, it was me. Had you not murdered my men and sent them back to me in pieces, perhaps you would have heard the entire story. Instead, you made an uneducated and deadly decision, made worse with the capture of my family. Turn them back over to me now and I will be merciful. Resist my demand and every man, woman, and child at Elswick will die. This I vow.”

De Milne remained cool; he was a seasoned knight, skilled and calm, but he knew who Braxton de Nerra was and had little doubt he meant what he said.

“Make a move against us and I will send your daughter and wife out to you in pieces,” he threatened. “If you return your army to Erith this night, I will not harm them.”

Braxton sighed slowly; he was losing patience. “You do not make demands,” he countered. “I want my family returned to me. As an honorable knight, you will do as I ask. Resist and die.”

De Milne wasn’t stupid; he knew the only reason Braxton hadn’t let loose on them was because they held his wife and daughter.

But he also knew that sooner or later, de Nerra would begin a siege to regain them that would end up destroying everyone at Elswick.

He had a wife and children in this castle himself; he didn’t want to see them come to harm.

He knew that, at some point, he would be forced to negotiate.

He thought carefully on his offer before speaking.

“I will make you a proposal, de Nerra,” he said.

“I will return one of your women to you. You will take her and return to Erith and, when I see that peace has settled between Erith and Elswick, I will return the other woman to you as a reward for your good behavior. Attack me now and the first bodies I throw over the wall at you will be your wife and daughter; this I swear. Agree to my terms and they will live.”

Braxton’s patience was evaporating and he could feel his temper rise. The threats against Gray and Brooke infuriated him.

“Are you truly so bold and foolish?” he wanted to know.

“Roger de Clare and his son were killed when they attacked me. It happened so quickly that I had no idea who they were until after it was over. I did not make the first move against them, I assure you. Although I understand your grief at the loss of your lord and his heir, to attack Erith and then steal my wife and daughter in punishment is beneath honorable men. I would not say this if it were not so; I do not lie. On my oath, I tell you that Roger and William’s death were an accident.

Now return my wife and daughter to me and I shall forget my vengeance against you.

If you kill them, know that there will be nothing stopping me from capturing you and forcing you to watch as I murder your wife and children right before your very eyes.

Their deaths will be as painful and horrific as you can imagine. The choice is yours.”

De Milne fell silent, watching de Nerra down below, just out of the range of the archers.

He turned to the man next to him, whispered something, and the man took off running.

Braxton waited for a reply; a minute passed, and then another and another.

Soon several minutes had passed and Braxton was beginning to get anxious.

Just as he opened his mouth to shout up to them again, the drawbridge suddenly lurched.

Unsure what was happening, Braxton backed up.

He lifted his hand to his waiting army and the archers got into position, followed by the infantry.

For all they knew, screaming hordes of Gloucester men were about to come leaping out at them and they would not take any chances.

Every man in Braxton’s army was poised at the ready.

Dallas, having shaken his shadow Robert, came thundering up to Braxton, taking his place beside him.

If there was going to be a fight, he was going to fight alongside Braxton.

The wait was beginning to become excessive but it was clear that something was in the works. Braxton could hear men shouting on the other side of the wall and he prepared to unsheathe his broadsword. He could feel a fight coming.

The enormous drawbridge suddenly began to move.

It jerked on its chains, lowered unsteadily by a host of nervous soldiers deep in the walls of the gatehouse.

As the thing slowly lurched downward, Braxton and Dallas could see that the portcullis was slowly lifting as well.

They could see a cluster of soldiers on the other side, shadows shifting about in the darkness of the gatehouse passage.

Braxton’s grip tightened on his reins, waiting for the charge.

But suddenly, something unexpected caught his attention.

It was a spot of color in a sea of shadows.

He could see it, a pale blue flash now and again.

But suddenly, the pale blue flash had become solid and steady, approaching the portcullis, which by now had stopped only half-raised.

As Braxton watched, curious and apprehensive, it took him a moment to realize that Brooke was being released.

She skittered beneath the half-raised portcullis and began to run.

Dallas, startled, suddenly spurred his charger forward as Braxton screamed at him to stop; the man was heading into the optimal range of the archers and Braxton was terrified that Dallas was about to get himself mowed down.

But Dallas must have realized it, too, because he suddenly yanked his charger to a halt and raced back to where Braxton was still positioned.

Braxton glanced over at the young knight, seeing utter and complete relief and terror on the man’s face.

Then he returned his attention to Brooke, racing across the damp, dark earth at top speed.

He could hear her sobbing as she approached.

Dallas bailed from his charger and held out his arms, softly encouraging her to come to him.

Brooke picked up the pace and threw herself into her husband’s open arms, so hard that Dallas nearly toppled over with the force of her hit.

Hysterical sobs filled the air as Braxton dismounted his charger and went to Dallas and Brooke, a mass of hugging warmth in the dark of the night. Braxton could feel the emotion radiating from the pair; in fact, he had quite enough of his own as he reached out and tried to separate them.

“Brooke, sweetheart,” he got his big hands around her head, forcing her to look at him ever though she was in her husband’s arms. “Where is your mother?”

Brooke was a sobbing mess. “She is inside,” she sobbed, reaching out to grab his forearm as he gripped her.

“Braxton, she is sick. I do not know what has happened to her because they will not let me see her, but I have been told she is very sick. They told me to tell you to return to Erith or you will never see her again.”

Braxton stared at the girl as she collapsed back into Dallas’ arms. By this time, Thomas, Robert, Davis and Geoff had made their way over to him, glad to see Brooke but wondering where Gray was.

Some of them had caught the tail end of her sobbing explanation.

After taking a few shocking moments to digest her news, Braxton suddenly reached out and yanked her from Dallas’ grip, so hard that her neck nearly snapped.

That set off Dallas and Geoff had to throw a big arm around Dallas to keep the man from charging Braxton.

“Brooke,” Braxton was as close to losing his composure as he had ever been in his life. “You will tell me what has happened from the beginning. What happened when they took you from Creekmere?”

Brooke sniffled and wept. “They came on our fourth day there,” she sobbed. “Baron Wenvoe let them in. They tried to take my mother first but she would not let them; she ran and hid from them, and then beat those who found her with a roasting iron. I heard someone say that she put a man’s eye out.”

Braxton realized he was shaking as he kept his grip on her arms. “And then what happened?”

Brooke was calming somewhat now that she was in familiar hands, with familiar people.

“They took us both back to Elswick,” she said, gazing into Braxton’s blue-green eyes.

“But Mama was not feeling well along the way. I think that fighting those men off must have hurt her somehow. By the time we got here, she could barely walk and they took her away from me. I have not seen her since our arrival.”

Everyone heard the softly-uttered information, but no one more clearly than Braxton. He struggled to remain collected, knowing that if he let himself go, he would surely destroy all in his path. There would be no return.

“And you do not know what is wrong with her?” he asked.

Brooke shook her head. “Nay,” she replied, her eyes beginning to well again. “I am afraid she is dying.”

Braxton let go of her, turning to face the black, shadowed bastion of Elswick. Thomas moved to his son, seeing his distress.

“They sent the girl out as a good faith measure,” he rumbled. “They are hoping you will do the same.”

Braxton grunted. “By returning to Erith without my wife?” he growled. “I think not. If they…”

He was cut off by shouting from the dark, torch-lit wall. It was de Milne again.

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