Chapter Seven
“This is the first time I have been to The Wix,” Zayin said, looking up at the tall stone walls that were capped with what looked like sharp iron spikes to prevent people from climbing over them. “I have seen it from the road, of course, but I have never been inside. It is an impressive place.”
Garret glanced up at the walls as they passed through the gates, which were massive iron structures.
“I have been here twice to see my brother since Colchester moved here for the summer season,” he said, “but I’ve not been inside the manse.
Rickard has kept me out here in the yard as if I am an undesirable. ”
Zayin grinned. “You serve Richard when your brother’s liege possibly serves the prince,” he said quietly, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him. “It is possible that you are an undesirable here at The Wix.”
Garret couldn’t argue the point. When a soldier approached to ask his business, he asked the man for Rickard and was instructed to head back to the stables, on the west side of the compound.
Dismounting their steeds, Garret and Zayin continued back to the noisy, smelly stable yard, the heat of the day already bringing out the flies and stench.
As they passed into the yard, busy with men tending their horses, Garret spied his brother standing over the smithy as the man worked on the right front hoof of Rickard’s horse.
With a wicked grin, Garret picked up a rock and sailed it at his brother with precision, striking the man on the shoulder.
Annoyed, Rickard turned to see who had pitched the rock, his features breaking into a smile when he saw his brother standing near the mouth of the stable yard. Leaving the smithy with the horse, he made his way over to his brother.
“Who let you in?” he demanded lightly. “I shall punish the gate guards severely.”
Garret cocked a dark eyebrow. “Then you should put men on the gate as opposed to boys if you want them to keep me out.”
Rickard snorted. “Now you insult my guards?”
“Since when is truth an insult?”
Rickard shook his head, still grinning. “I will make sure they know how you feel about them so the next time, your passage will not be such a simple thing.”
Garret couldn’t help the smile on his lips. “We shall see,” he said confidently. “But in answer to your question, I came to see you. We did not have much time to speak last night before I left so I thought to visit you this morning. It is rare that I am able to see my brother two days in a row.”
Rickard nodded, putting a hand on Garret’s shoulder. “I do not believe we have seen each other two consecutive days since you returned from The Levant four years ago.”
“That was my thought as well. I hope you do not mind that I brought Zayin with me.”
Rickard shook his head, his gaze moving to the dark-haired man standing next to his brother.
“Not at all,” he said. “In fact, my wife was disappointed she did not get to see him last night. She is fascinated by all things from The Levant, so I hope you do not mind if she asks you many questions. She wants to visit The Levant someday.”
Zayin dipped his head. “It would be an honor to speak with her, my lord.”
Rickard rather liked the polite man who had followed his brother home from Richard’s crusade.
At first, he had been suspicious of the man, as most of Garret’s friends and family had been, but after hearing Zayin’s story – how he owed Garret his life in debt – and in seeing that the man was truly a loyal companion to Garret, who had mostly been a lonely man until Zayin came into his life, Rickard had come to accept him.
He really didn’t know Zayin well, but if Garret trusted the man, then Rickard did as well. He motioned the men to follow him.
“Then leave your horses here to be tended,” he said. “My wife should just be finishing her meal with the duchess. There is a small room in the manse exclusively for my use, so we will go there and drink wine and become drunk before the nooning meal.”
Garret groaned. “Not me,” he said. “Can we not simply speak without losing our senses?”
“Since when did you become so dull?”
“Since you became a fool.”
Rickard laughed. “Not so foolish that you still do not admire everything about me,” he said arrogantly. “Admit it. You want to be just like me.”
Garret simply shook his head. “Christ,” he hissed. “Is your pride so overblown? Can we not simply retreat to your private room and behave like men? In your case, I know that will be a stretch, but try, Rickard. We have little time and much to speak of.”
Rickard grinned at his serious younger brother.
“As you wish,” he said, sensing that Garret didn’t seem as congenial today as he did last night.
He wondered why. As Garret turned his horse over to a groom for safe keeping, Rickard changed the subject by pointing at the horse he’d been standing over.
“This is my new Belgian charger. The horse’s hooves have been terribly groomed and my smithy is trying to right the hooves so the horse will have a normal gait. He moves stiffly.”
Garret eyed the horse, taking a few steps towards the beast and crouching down to look at the hooves. He pointed. “The heel of the hoof is too short,” he said. “No wonder he has an odd gait.”
“Painful, too, I would imagine.”
Garret stood up, slapping the rear of the horse affectionately. “He looks like a fine animal,” he said. “Where did you get him?”
Rickard scratched his head sheepishly. “I got him from Colchester,” he said, moving away from the horse so the smithy wouldn’t hear.
He lowered his voice. “The man spent a fortune on the animal and then listened to some idiot tell him that the horse would have a better gait if the hooves were cut short. It did not work, of course, and he was simply going to cast the horse aside when I offered him money for the beast. Can you imagine? Casting aside a horse like that?”
Garret listened without much reaction, although he was thinking a great deal. In fact, he saw no better time than the present to ask the question he’d been dying to ask since he’d found out his brother was serving Colchester.
“Nay, I cannot imagine,” he said. “Is that normal for him to behave so frivolously?”
Rickard gave him a long look before shaking his head. “I cannot tell you the things I have seen from the man since I have come into his service, so it is better if I do not,” he muttered. “You would not believe it.”
This was exactly the subject Garret wanted to be on. “I think I would.”
Rickard looked at him strangely. “Why do you say that?” he asked.
Then, he quickly answered his own question.
“I suppose you have heard rumors of the man just like everyone else has. I would not say this to anyone else, Garret, but I can confirm that whatever you have heard of him is more than likely true.”
Garret was very interested. “I have heard a few things,” he admitted. “But I have also seen a few things.”
Rickard curiosity grew. “What have you seen?”
Garret sighed, a reluctant gesture. Now that he had an open door to express exactly what he wished to speak of, it was difficult to know just where to start.
“I have hardly seen you since my return from The Levant,” he said.
“There is so much to tell you but there has not been the opportunity. You were serving father when I returned. Do you recall?”
“I do. You returned home for a very short amount of time before you were called back to London.”
“And you went to serve Lincoln.”
“I was with Lincoln for quite some time until I recently came to serve Colchester.”
Garret’s gaze moved to Zayin, who was bending over the smithy as the man worked on Rickard’s horse. “Did I tell you how Zayin and I became friends?”
Rickard wasn’t sure what that had to do with their conversation, but he nodded. “You did. You said you saved his life but little more than that. Why?”
Garret’s attention lingered on Zayin for a moment longer before returning to his brother.
“Because I did not tell you the circumstances in which I saved his life,” he said quietly.
“When I was in The Levant under Richard’s service, your liege was there as well.
In fact, Colchester had managed to earn himself quite a reputation. Did you know that?”
Rickard nodded. “I have heard.”
Garret continued. “The men called him Alfaar, which means ‘The Rat’ in the language native to The Levant. Colchester was known for his underhanded and immoral dealings. He would burn a village and kill women and children and call it his glory, but as the cousin of the king, he was immune to the punishment any other man would have been given. He was a vile excuse for a knight, Rickard. Appalling.”
Rickard wasn’t particularly surprised to hear this information. “I knew he had been to The Levant but I did not realize you knew him,” he said. “But what about Zayin? What does this have to do with him?”
Garret answered. “Colchester rarely followed orders,” he said.
“He always seemed to have his own agenda, as if he were in The Levant on his own personal crusade. One night, he had left camp and Richard sent me and David de Lohr out to find him. David and I split up, hunting for him as we were, but I was the one to find him. When I came across him, he had Zayin on his knees and was preparing to execute the man. There is more to the story, but suffice it to say I prevented him from killing Zayin with a well-aimed arrow that took out his sword hand. Like a coward, Colchester ran off before he ever saw my face so he had no idea that it was I who launched that arrow at him. The only people who know what I did are Zayin, David, and Richard. When I heard you were serving the man, I wondered if you knew just what kind of man you had devoted your loyalties to.”
Rickard was looking at his brother with a mixture of surprise and disgust. “And you are sure it was Colchester who tried to kill Zayin?”