Prologue #2
“Then you are welcome to it,” he said, tossing aside the iron pick. “I hope it is everything you hoped it would be, Brother. My only regret is that greed will choke you in the end and I will not be here to see it. Now, let me collect my things and I will be gone before the sun sets.”
Boothe looked at him as if he had expected more of a fight. “Good,” he said after a moment. “You will take only what you can carry on your horse.”
“I own three horses. I will take all three or you really will have a fight on your hands.”
Truth be told, even Boothe wasn’t stupid enough to invite a fight when they could emerge from this situation relatively peacefully. But he was… disappointed.
Disappointed he couldn’t make his proud brother plead.
“Then take them,” he said. “Take all of the reminders of your time here at Septentrion with you. I do not want to see any remnants.”
“You won’t.”
“And that is all you have to say to me?”
“What more do you want me to say that has not already been said?”
Boothe seemed to be growing more annoyed.
His lips were twitching, as if he wanted to say something more.
It took Gage a moment to realize that his brother wanted him to beg.
He wanted to see Gage lose his composure and beg for his place in the world, but Gage wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
He had no idea where he was going to go or what he was going to do, but he knew this moment would come so he’d had some choices in his mind.
Now, it was a matter of making his selection.
And leaving the only life he’d ever known.
With nothing more to say to his brother, he turned back to his stallion to groom the horse and prepare him to depart. He was ending the conversation on his terms, effectively shutting out Boothe, who may have entered the stable with the upper hand, but who definitely didn’t leave with it.
Gage may have been leaving, but he’d had the last word.
Without being instructed by Boothe, the soldiers disbanded.
Gage could hear his brother growling, yelling at the men who had left the stable before he’d given them permission, accusing them of desertion.
He ordered several of them back into the stable, to shadow Gage as the man collected his possessions for departure.
A few soldiers returned, including the man Gage had sunk his hoof pick into, to not only shadow Gage but to help him gather his things.
They prepared his other horses while Gage and two men went into the keep so he could pack his possessions.
No matter how aggrieved Gage was feeling, he did everything with his head held high.
There wasn’t one soldier at Septentrion who expected less.
One man who also didn’t expect less was the only other knight at the castle, Sir Laurence de Becque.
They called him The Bull, or simply “Bull”, for the sheer size of his arms and shoulders, but also for a peculiar habit he had in battle.
Entering a fight, he’d lower his head like a bull charging and use those shoulders to mow people down.
Laurence wasn’t a tall man, but what he didn’t have in height he made up for in power and breadth.
He was older, with dark blond hair that was gray at the temples, and he was a close friend to Gage.
He, too, knew what was going to happen when Boothe de Reyne took command.
It had only been a matter of time and that time had come.
He’d seen the new Lord Stagshaw heading to the stables earlier that evening with a group of armed men and, knowing that Gage was in there, he was concerned for Gage’s safety.
He’d come off the wall and armed himself, heading to the stables to defend Gage if need be, but he’d missed what fight there was.
Still, he’d stood poised by the door, listening to the conversation, knowing that Boothe was finally banishing his younger and far more noble brother from Septentrion.
Laurence had already made the decision what he was going to do when that happened.
He had been with Hart de Reyne for many years.
He’d seen the brothers de Reyne grow up and he’d seen what a shining star Gage had become.
The man who would have made a magnificent lord was a man without a home now and when Gage departed his place of birth with three horses, several satchels, saddlebags and more, Laurence joined him.
He hated Boothe more than Gage did and had only remained at Septentrion after the death of Hart because of Gage. But if Gage was leaving, so was he.
He wasn’t going to let Gage go alone.
Under a full moon, the two knights traveled south, heading towards London and a world of opportunity for two seasoned warriors worth their weight in gold. Gage hoped to return home someday, but it wouldn’t be to beg his brother to take him back.
It would be to destroy him.
He wasn’t sure how he would return, but he would.
Perhaps that had been his problem all along – he’d respected the brotherly bonds that Boothe hadn’t.
He detested his brother, but he was still his brother.
That bloodline alone warranted some mercy, but Gage realized that had been his mistake.
He shouldn’t have shown any mercy at all when dealing with Boothe because that kind of mercy had been a weakness.
He knew that now. Men took advantage of men with weaknesses and as a seasoned knight, he should have known that.
He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Emotions had gotten him into trouble in the first place. He’d felt something for his only sibling, for his home in general, and now all of it was gone. Ripped away, leaving an open wound where his tender heart used to be.
But no more.
He was going to have to learn to replace the blood in his veins with ice.