Chapter Thirty-Four
Around midnight, Dustin and Deborah were loaded onto their horses to begin the journey back to Lioncross. Temperatures were well below freezing and a light snow was falling as Christopher and his knights made sure the two armies were well prepared and organized.
There would be two armies leaving Windsor this night, over a thousand going with Christopher north to Nottingham and two hundred going with Dustin to Lioncross.
The massive outer courtyard was full of soldiers and torches lit the area brightly.
Dustin sat atop Hercules, watching what was going on solemnly.
Her eyes on Christopher as he moved like an efficient war machine, completely competent in what he was doing as he put hundreds and hundreds of people in order.
He constantly amazed her with his perfection and intelligence.
Hercules stirred uneasily underneath her and she comforted the big horse, knowing the cold was hard on his limbs as he stood unmoving.
Deborah was beside her on a pretty gray palfrey, while Harold, Alexander and George rode in one of the wagons.
Harold, however, broke free of the confines of the cart and dashed across the compound to where Christopher was giving orders.
Dustin almost called to the dog but she saw Christopher lean down and give the mutt a pat on the head, and she smiled.
The Christopher that had brought her to London months ago would have rather cut off his own hand than pet a dog.
Leeton came around loaded down with traveling blankets, thick things that weighed a ton.
He proceeded to wrap Dustin in one of them, covering her completely from the waist down and covering the majority of Hercules, as well.
Even though Dustin was swathed in layers of warm clothing, she was still glad for the protection.
Deborah looked like a swaddled baby when he got finished with her and Dustin giggled.
The snow was falling harder now and hot breath hung like fog in the still night air.
The armies were now properly in order and ready to move as the knights, their duties complete, began to mount their destriers.
Christopher was taking nearly 300 of Richard’s loyal knights with him and the sight of all those men in armor was truly a scene to behold.
Never had Dustin seen so many men dressed to the hilt for a battle and it was an awesome experience.
The power her husband held within the kingdom began to take on new dimension in her eyes, for she could not truly grasp the concept until she saw the reality before her.
And with the new respect came a new hope; surely with all of these men protecting him, it was inevitable that Christopher come home to her unscathed.
Christopher moved back across the courtyard toward his wife and her party with Harold scampering at his feet.
His armor acted like one giant block of ice with all of the snow coating it, yet he wasn’t cold.
As was usual with him before a battle march, his energy flowed and he felt nothing but the power within him focusing on the fight ahead.
There was no one more singularly-visioned in a battle than he, breathing and eating war.
But he found that the most unusual thing was happening to him; he could not get his wife from his mind and he was constantly distracted by her presence.
He wanted to be with her so that he had to stop himself from rushing through the necessary preparations and give them the full attention they required.
Distraction could be deadly in his profession.
He approached his wife, his gaze good-naturedly reproving. “You are as big as that horse with all of the material you are wearing.”
“You made me wear all of this clothing,” she shot back. “I can barely move with all of the weight.”
He snorted. “You shall be grateful for the weight and the warmth when the weather worsens, Lady de Lohr, and you shall thank me.” He glanced at his sister, eye-level with him on her small palfrey. “Are you sure you do not want to ride with Leeton? That little animal doesn’t look entirely hearty.”
“She is quite hearty, I assure you,” Deborah answered. “She has taken me many places without incident.”
He frowned doubtfully but didn’t argue. Instead, he moved closer to Dustin. “Leeton has instructions to stop and allow you two to rest come morning, but sleep no longer than a few hours. I want you back within the safety of Lioncross as soon as possible.”
She nodded, curling her gloved hand around his great mailed one. “Why the urgency, Chris? We cannot even sleep the night and leave when dawn breaks?” She nodded her head toward Deborah. “I worry for her health; she is not as strong as you or I.”
He raised an eyebrow, but she could feel his hand gently squeezing her own. “You ask me that now? You have known for a while now that you would be leaving come nightfall.”
“I know, but the urgency to leave Windsor seems to be gaining. It didn’t seem quite so pressing this morning, even after the earl attacked me.” She lowered her voice. “What is so wrong that we must leave in the dead of night?”
“I must leave tonight if I am to rendezvous with John’s forces before he can reach Tickhill,” he said. “I will not leave you here alone, even for a night. When I leave, you leave. Simple enough?”
“Aye,” she nodded, feeling foolish to question his wisdom. “When…when do you think you will be returning?”
The pressure from his hand grew stronger. “I know not, sweet love. Within a month, hopefully, but I cannot know.”
She gave him a sad, resigned smile. “Spring is coming. Lioncross is beautiful in spring.”
“I look forward to it,” he said softly. “And you.”
“I can only pray that this ugly business is over with quickly and you can return to me permanently,” she said. “Mayhap you will dispose of John quickly enough that…”
A shout cut her off. “Chris. We await you,” David yelled.
Christopher waved at his brother and turned back to his wife.
Dustin braced herself; the time had finally arrived and she was trying hard to keep her promise and not cry, but gazing into his sky-blue eyes forced sobs into her throat.
When he smiled sweetly at her, she blinked and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
“No, Dustin, do not.” He reached up and brushed the tears away. “No tears. I want to see you smile.”
“I cannot.” she squeaked.
He laughed softly and kissed her gloved hand. “I shall return as soon as I can, I promise. Know that you mean the world to me, wife. I shall always return to you.”
She could only nod, afraid if she opened her mouth she would start bawling like a baby. He tried to release her hand but she held onto it tightly, her head bowed as she tried to compose herself.
“It is time to leave, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I have to go.”
She nodded again, swallowing down all of the tears and sadness she was feeling. “I know I just wanted to tell you…tell you that I love you.”
He winked at her and kissed her hand again, pulling his fingers away more firmly this time and she had no choice but to let him go.
He took a couple of steps away and Harold danced around him eagerly. He frowned at the dog.
“Dustin, I cannot take this mongrel with me,” he said sternly. “Control him, would you?”
She sniffed, forcing herself to be brave as she focused on the wriggling dog. “He wants to go with you. Why cannot you take him?”
He eyed her reproachfully. “Dogs do not go into battle. Call him to you so that I might leave.”
“Harold won’t get in the way, Chris,” she said. “You have been taking him to the practice field with you; he likes the excitement of battle.”
“Dustin, I will not be responsible for Hal being gored on the battlefield,” he said, picking the chunky dog up and put him in front of his wife. “Take him.”
Dustin gripped the fat mutt in front of her, struggling to hold him as he twisted and fought.
He eventually plunged from the horse and raced back across the courtyard to where Christopher was preparing to mount up.
She saw her husband say something to the dog, point at her, and then eventually give up when Harold refused to cooperate.
He mounted his steed and motioned to David, reining his horse in Dustin’s direction as David shouted orders.
He thundered over to his wife as Harold raced beside the animal, very careful of the hooves that were as big as he was. Christopher swung past Leeton and relayed his orders, and immediately the column of men were set in motion. Hercules lurched forward as Christopher reined his destrier beside her.
Dustin didn’t say anything, content to gaze at his powerful face.
His eyes roved over the two moving armies, scrutinizing every man and bellowing to his officers when he detected an anomaly.
Although they had just begun to move, she could tell by his manner that for all purposes, he was already at war.
It made an awesome sight, over a thousand soldiers moving out in the falling snow, countless torches lighting their way. The courtyard was alive with dancing shadows and shouting men as the rhythm of the march picked up, with the armor and swords jingling in synchronization.
Dustin was very warm in spite of the freezing temperatures, and was actually feeling some of the excitement that was in the air.
And it was excitement, not fear or apprehension as she would have expected on a battle march.
These men were seasoned, trained soldiers, preparing to do Richard’s work by defending him against his raging brother.
The confidence she sensed around her served to boost her failing spirit and she knew these men gained their assurance from her husband. She gazed at him, pride filling her.
He sensed her eyes on him and turned to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “No reason, husband. Am I not allowed to look at you whenever I please?”
“You are, provided that you tell me why you are smiling,” he answered.
Her smile twisted with mock irritation. “Did you tell me not five minutes ago that you wanted to see me smile? Now I am smiling and you demand to know why.”
He snickered and shook his head, glancing off in the direction of a particularly loud shout before returning to his wife. Even then, he would only smile slyly at her.
Dustin liked his smile, it was flirtatious and she responded with a coy look of her own. Their separation was a mere minutes away, but she wasn’t thinking on it. She was enjoying his mood.
“How’s your horse handling these days?” she asked.
He cuffed the horse affectionately on the neck. “He is doing much better. I think he will do very well on this campaign.”
“What did you finally decide to name him?” she inquired.
He shrugged. “I have been calling him ‘horse’. His trainer called him Brutus, a name I detest. You are good with names, think of one.”
She looked closely at the animal, a magnificent silver dapple with a salt-and-pepper mane. “You were so intent on naming a son of ours Arthur. Why not name your horse Arthur?”
“Your father would rise from the grave if I named a horse after him,” Christopher snorted. “Ah, well, think of a name while I am gone.”
Dustin’s party passed under the portcullis first, and Christopher with them.
When the entire column of troops had passed onto the road and turned northwest, Christopher took hold of Hercules’ reins and pulled his wife from the procession, waiting until it passed by them completely before speaking.
Behind them, his massive army was passing through the gate and turning due north.
He flipped up his visor, delicate flakes of snow touching his face as he gazed into the face of the woman he loved with all of his heart. He ached with loneliness already.
“Leeton and Sir Nicholas will be joining me as soon once you are settled,” he said, his throat tight with emotion. “Max, Anthony and Jeffrey will be remaining with you at Lioncross. Obey them, Dustin, for I do not want to have to worry about you while I am away.”
Much to her surprise, she found her tears were gone and replaced by a warm feeling of trust and love. Christopher seemed more distressed than she did.
“I promise, I will obey them,” she said with a saucy bat of her eyelashes. “Even if it kills me, I shall be agreeable.”
Her courage soothed his own aching heart and he managed a smile. “If you are agreeable, ’twill be a small miracle. Now ride on and join Deborah, sweetheart. Take care of yourself.”
She smiled beautifully, gathering Hercules’ reins. He wanted to see her smile, and she would oblige him. “Be safe, husband. Take care of Harold.”
He glanced down and saw that the dog was indeed sitting politely by his destrier. He groaned. “Christ, Hal. What am I going to do with you?”
“Feed him, let him warm your bed,” Dustin teased softly.
Christopher reined his horse close to her. “You are the only one to warm my bed, wife. But I will feed him,” he reached out a massive gloved hand and swallowed up half of her head. “Give me a kiss.”
Dustin almost unseated herself as she responded to him, the most loving kiss either one of them could remember.
“Go,” he said. His throat was tight again. “Leeton is waiting for you.”
Dustin turned Hercules around, throwing one last glance at Christopher.
He waved at her, watching as she spurred her horse like a man and raced back along the column toward Leeton, waiting patiently by the road on his roan destrier.
Christ, he felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest, but he forced himself to tear his eyes from her.
Slamming down his visor, he drove his destrier in the direction of his northward-bound army.