Chapter Thirteen #2
Maxton grunted. “I am coming to think that de Wrenville has a touch of madness,” he said.
“And I do mean that in all seriousness. He wants what he wants and believes his actions should have no consequences, not to mention the fact that he is truly at a loss when support is refused. Watching him speak with Edward was an experience that brought about those revelations. He truly believes he is beyond all reproach.”
Caius looked at Maxton. The man had seen much in his life, more than most men would see in a few lifetimes. He was wise beyond measure, but he also had little patience and even less tact when it came to stupidity.
“Then tell me what you think of all of this,” he said quietly. “And you should also know that the lady is not returning to Winterhold. She cannot remain here, clearly, but she is not going back.”
Maxton nodded. “I assumed as much,” he said. “Where will you send her?”
Caius shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “Would you be willing to send her to your home? De Wrenville would never think to look for her at Chalford Hill.”
Surprisingly, Maxton didn’t deny him right away.
“My wife would make her welcome, of course,” he said.
“But you know if I send her to my home, Andressa will have something to say about what is to be done with her. My wife gets attached to everyone in her care, a trait that makes her a wonderful mother, but also a trait that can interfere if decisions are made about Lady Emelisse. My wife may hide her from us if we decide to send Lady Emelisse somewhere that she does not approve of, and she cannot remain at Chalford Hill forever.”
Caius grinned. “I’ve not yet met your wife but I look forward to the day,” he said. “Only a remarkable woman could have tamed the mighty Maxton of Loxbeare. But you do have a point. There needs to be more of a plan with Lady Emelisse than to simply send her away.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
Caius nodded. “A little,” he said. “She wants to hide out at Hawk Mountain until de Wrenville stops looking for her.”
“Hawk Mountain?”
Caius gestured to the big mountain behind the castle. “That is Hawk Mountain,” he said. “A magical and mystical place, I am told.”
Maxton eyed the white-capped mountain. “And no place for a lady,” he said. Then, something over by the keep caught his attention. “Look, Cai. The men are moving away from the keep. It is time.”
Caius watched Hallam as he shepherded his men away from the keep. “Max, do something for me,” he said. “Get an understanding of just how many Winterhold men are here and where they are positioned. I also want to know if there are any Hawkstone men remaining other than those in the keep.”
Maxton nodded sharply. “Of course.”
He was off, calling to Kevin for assistance. As he moved away, young William charged up beside Caius on that horse that was far too much for him. In fact, Caius had to rein his warhorse away from the excitable beast as William wrestled with it and tried to make it look like he wasn’t.
“Can I help, my lord?” William asked, grunting as the horse threw his head. “Is there something I can do?”
Caius eyed him as he fought with the steed. “Aye,” he said. “You can not get yourself killed while your father is taking his army home. I have no idea how I could explain to him that you fought a horse and the horse won.”
William grinned, slapping the horse affectionately on the side of the neck. “We are the best of friends, my lord,” he said. “This is how he shows his love for me.”
“By trying to throw you?”
William laughed. “If you have not met my horse yet, his name is Odin.”
Caius snorted. “It figures that you would name it after a wild Northman god,” he said. “Where did you come by him? I’m surprised your father would buy you such a powerful horse.”
William looked at him seriously. “My father did not buy him for me,” he said. “I won him in a dice game from one of the knights at Kenilworth. Now, can I do anything for you, my lord? Do you require anything?”
Caius just started chuckling at the big, bold squire who was so capable with his gambling games. No wonder the master knights of Kenilworth had sent him home for his father to discipline him, which was obviously not going to happen. To Edward, William could do no wrong.
Caius wondered what kind of knight William was going to grow up to be. It made for interesting speculation. He was either going to fail miserably or be the greatest knight England had yet to see. With that kind of brilliance and ingenuity, Caius suspected it might be the latter.
Time would tell.
“I do not know yet,” he said after a moment. “Stay with me and keep that horse under control.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“If you fall off and break your neck, I am going to kick dirt over you and leave you where you fell. Do you understand?”
“Aye, my lord.”
Together, they charged over to where Emelisse was patiently waiting, sitting on the small gray palfrey Lady de Wrenville had loaned her. Morgan was beside her, protecting her from any Winterhold men who might have a notion to try to harass her. As Caius rode up, he motioned to her.
“Come, my lady,” he said. “Let us speak with your brother.”
Eagerly, she followed. Caius led the way, with Morgan and William bringing up the rear.
The Winterhold men were being forced to the gatehouse, leaving the entire keep free and clear from anyone at all.
Caius reined his horse to a halt, dismounting as he gazed up at the very large keep.
It could easily hold fifty men or more and given the state of the castle as a whole, it was relatively undamaged.
But he took his focus off the keep and went to Emelisse, reaching up to help her dismount her horse.
The moment he touched her, something occurred to him.
It was the first time he’d felt her warmth.
Suddenly, the keep wasn’t as interesting as the lady he was lowering to the ground.
“What can you tell me about the keep, my lady?” he said, his big hands still on her arms as she got her footing. “Is that door the only entrance?”
Emelisse was concerned with picking the bottom of the too-long dress up out of the mud. “Aye,” she said. “There used to be a staircase, but my brother must have burned it when Winterhold breached the castle.”
Caius tore his gaze from her, looking at the piles of snow beneath the keep and seeing pieces of burned wood.
“I can see it,” he said. Then, he returned his attention to her. “Tell me about the keep. Where would your brother be right now?”
She shook her head faintly. Then, she gently pulled herself from his grip, gathered up her skirts, and began to move towards the keep.
“I do not know,” she said. “But I am going to find out.”
Caius, Morgan, and William followed her as she marched up to the keep, right underneath the door.
“Caspian?” she called up. “Caspian, are you there? Please answer me!”
She was met by silence, but it didn’t deter her. She began to walk along the keep, where there were windows, and shouted up to them.
“Caspian!” she called. “Please answer me!”
Caius, Morgan, and William followed her all the way around the keep as she continued shouting up to it, calling for her brother.
They ended up back at the entry door and she stood there, begging her brother to respond.
She even took to throwing rocks at the closed entry door.
William thought it might be a good idea, too, so he picked up a bigger rock and hurled it at the door, creating a loud thump.
Between him and the lady throwing rocks, it was inevitable that there was an eventual answer.
There was a window next to the door, shuttered tightly, and the shutters suddenly began to move. Emelisse rushed up, standing directly beneath the window.
“Caspian?” she called eagerly. “Please open the window. It is me! I have returned with help!”
The shutters had been nailed shut because she could see someone trying to pry them apart. The four of them stood beneath the window, watching and waiting, until one of the shutters was finally pulled free and a grizzled, old head appeared.
Emelisse gasped.
“Harcourt!” she said. “You survived!”
The very old soldier seemed glad to see her. “I did, m’lady,” he said. “And you are well, also. Praise the saints. We were certain you had been taken away to your death.”
Emelisse shook her head. “Nay,” she said. Then, she sobered greatly. “But Papa did not survive. He is with God now. Where is Caspian? I must speak with him right away.”
The old soldier sighed heavily. “If you think to ask him to surrender the keep, he won’t. You should not waste your breath.”
“I did not come to ask him that,” she said. “I told you I have brought help with me. This is Sir Caius d’Avignon and he serves William Marshal. Harcourt, where is my brother?”
The old man eyed Caius before looking to Emelisse to see if she was being forced to say such things. He seemed confused, but finally, he shook his head.
“He has gone to be with your papa,” he said as gently as he could. “Your brother died from an arrow wound last night, but he told us that we aren’t to surrender the keep under any circumstances. We are to die here.”
Emelisse stared at him, her hands flying to her mouth to hold back the sobs that were struggling to burst forth. “Nay,” she breathed. “Not Caspian… God, please…”
That was as far as she could get before tears overwhelmed her and she hung her head, silently sobbing. Caius looked at her with concern, with sorrow, before stepping forward to take charge of the conversation.
“As the lady has explained, I serve William Marshal,” he said. “I am not siding with Winterhold, nor am I siding with Hawkstone, but I am here to see that the hostilities cease until this situation can be settled. Where is the lady’s brother?”
“In here, with us,” the old man said. “He did not die alone. We made sure he was comfortable. He feared greatly for the lady and their father, and we tried to be of some comfort.”