Chapter Twenty-Three #2
The bailey was still busy at this hour, preparing to shut down for the evening.
He wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the knight he was following, trailing the man all the way to the keep and up the stairs to the entry level.
The one thing he did notice, however, was all of the lovely soldiers Ashington had.
Soldiers that would help him regain what he’d lost. Brian de Luci was going to suffer in a big way because not even the army from Langley could stand against Ashington.
John de Thorington had the largest army in south Northumberland.
Boothe wished he could see Brian’s face when he realized Ashington had turned against him.
It was a thought that kept him warm as the keep swallowed him up and into the cool, dark innards he went.
The servants had begun lighting the sconces and chandeliers, giving the foyer a ghostly glow.
The knight took Boothe into Ashington’s solar, that lavishly rich chamber that had always impressed Boothe.
Without even being asked, he went straight to the wine pitcher and poured himself a measure of Ashington’s fine wine.
He took several large swallows, savoring it.
It was so much better than the cheap stuff his men had managed to steal.
Now, Boothe was back where he belonged, in the opulent surroundings of an ally.
His joy knew no bounds.
“Welcome to Ashleven.”
The voice came from behind. Boothe turned to see Laurence standing several feet behind him. The blond knight had disappeared, leaving Laurence de Becque in his place. A bolt of shock went through Boothe.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Where is Ashington?”
“He’s coming,” Laurence said. His gaze lingered on Boothe for a moment. “It has been a long time, my lord.”
Boothe set the cup down. He was immediately on his guard, startled by the appearance of a knight who had once served his father, a man he’d never liked much, nor had Laurence liked him.
There was no love lost between them.
“Answer me,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“That should be obvious,” Laurence said. “I serve Ashington.”
Boothe was vastly confused. “Is that why I have been summoned here?” he said, backing away and looking around frantically for a weapon. “Did he summon me to announce that you now serve him?”
Laurence shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “Why should he? Ashington wants to speak to you about other things.”
Boothe was over by the table at this point, looking for a dagger or a quill that was strong enough and sharp enough to use against a man who had never liked him. He knew that. He spied iron implements over by the hearth, but they were too far away.
He struggled not to panic.
“What things?” he said. “I’ve come as an ally of…”
Laurence cut him off. “You have come at Ashington’s invitation, not as an ally.”
Boothe paled as he realized this summons from Ashington might have some darker purpose. He could only guess what it was. Suddenly, the hope that he would receive assistance in regaining his castle seemed further and further away.
The reality of what was happening occurred to him.
“De Luci is here, isn’t he?” he finally said. “He’s behind this, isn’t he? That bastard has set a trap and used Ashington to do it!”
“Brian de Luci is dead.”
Gage answered from the doorway, watching his brother sweat and twitch several feet away. As he came into the chamber and shut the door, bolting it, Boothe’s eyes threatened to pop from his skull.
“You!” he hissed. “You’re here?”
“I am.”
“I saw you hit with a bolt!”
“You did.”
“You should be dead!”
“And yet I am not,” Gage said. “I am very much alive. And you and I are going to have a discussion, Boothe.”
Boothe had backed away from the table, now over against the wall. He grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, which happened to be a chair, and held it aloft like a club.
“I have nothing to say to you,” he said. “Get out. Where is Ashington?”
“I am Ashington,” Gage said.
Boothe’s face contorted with disbelief and fear. “Do you think I am so stupid as to believe that?” he said. “Why would you spout such lies? Where is de Thorington?”
“Dead,” Gage said simply. “Boothe, I want you to listen and listen well. I am the Earl of Ashington now. I married John de Thorington’s daughter, his heiress.
John died in an accident and I have inherited the title.
Therefore, when you received the summons from the Earl of Ashington, you received the summons from me. Do you understand so far?”
Boothe was positively ashen. “It’s not true,” he hissed. “You have been away from England for many years. You cannot be married to the Ashington heiress. It is not possible!”
“Yet, I am,” Gage said calmly. “If you do not believe me, I can bring any number of trustworthy sources in here to confirm it. As I was saying, I am now the Earl of Ashington, with an enormous army at my disposal. Your days of treachery and deceit are finished. I have waited my entire life to say those words, but your tyranny ends, Boothe de Reyne. You are my prisoner.”
Boothe shook the chair in his hands menacingly. “Get out!” he shouted. “I would speak to Ashington now! What have you done with him?”
It was clear that he didn’t believe Gage or Laurence but, in truth, he had no reason to. Gage turned to Laurence.
“Find my wife,” he said quietly. “Bring her in here. Send the knights in here as well.”
Laurence nodded, heading out of the solar, but almost immediately, Clark, Etienne, and Dirk took his place. They were heavily armed and Gage gestured to the group.
“These men serve me,” he said to Boothe.
“I have command of Ashington while Uncle Varro has command of Septentrion and Langley. You have no chance in regaining your properties, Boothe. You were a nasty boy who grew up into a nasty man and judgment, for you, has arrived. Men like you have no place in civilized society and as your brother, it is my duty to make sure you never harm anyone again. Men are dead because of you. Men are injured because of you. I am ashamed to call you my brother and I always have been. Now is my time to do something about it.”
Boothe’s gaze was darting between his brother and the knights. “You’re mad,” he hissed. “I do not know where Ashington is, but I am leaving and you will not stop me. I will kill you if you try.”
Gage looked at Clark, who unsheathed his broadsword. Etienne and Dirk followed in quick succession. When Boothe realized they were preparing to go into combat, he quickly lowered the chair.
“Put the weapons away,” he said, sounding less demanding and more fearful. “Put them away or I’ll…”
Gage had enough. Before his brother finished the sentence, he marched over to the man and punched him, hard, in the middle of his face.
Boothe dropped like a stone.
“Shut your mouth,” Gage snarled, no longer sounding calm.
“Shut your stupid mouth and understand that you are no longer in control. You are no longer giving the commands. I am. I am your worst nightmare come to life, Boothe – a man you have greatly wronged your entire life. The lies you told about me, the cruel treatment, comes to an end today. Today, I punish you for what you did to me, but more than that, I punish you on behalf of Brian de Luci. I punish you for the injuries you inflicted and the death you caused to a man you were unworthy of. Brian de Luci was the brother I should have had but, instead, I had a nightmare for a sibling. A disgusting, filthy piece of human rubbish who called himself my brother. For Brian, and for his cousin, and for John de Thorington, today is the day your evil ends.”
Boothe was cowering, wiping the blood from his nose, but he wasn’t entirely subdued.
He kicked out a foot in an attempt to push Gage away, but Gage lashed out a big fist again and hit him on the right temple.
Boothe yelped as a hand went over his head, protecting himself from his brother’s devastating blows.
As Gage stood over the man, the solar door opened again.
Maryann and Wynter appeared.
“My lady!” Boothe cried out upon seeing Maryann. “Where is your husband? Send him to me at once! Help me!”
Shocked, Maryann looked between Boothe and Gage, trying to figure out what was going on, but given what her daughter had briefly told her as they’d run over from the chapel at Laurence’s request, she could piece enough of the situation together.
She had never liked Boothe de Reyne, either.
She knew her husband hadn’t.
“I am afraid I cannot do that,” Maryann said. “No one can help you.”
Boothe was stricken with panic and disbelief. “Please, my lady,” he begged. “Tell your husband I require his protection!”
“Again, I cannot help you,” she said. “The Earl of Ashington may do with you as he pleases.”
Boothe opened his mouth to shout at her but realized, in that sentence, that she was confirming what Gage had told him.
I am the Earl of Ashington.
His heart sank.
“Where is your husband, my lady?” he asked, desperate. “What has happened?”
Maryann wasn’t ready to discuss what had happened.
She wasn’t sure she would ever be. But before her was justice, as far as she was concerned.
She’d once thought that Gage had caused her husband’s death, but she realized that wasn’t true.
It had been Boothe. The man was the source of so many ills.
He’d done a great many people a great deal of harm.
She looked at Gage.
“Do as you will, my lord,” she said. “You have my permission and John’s permission. He would want you to serve justice, so do as you will. Whatever it is… I approve.”
Gage smiled faintly at the woman. He could only surmise that Wynter must have spoken to her again and, now, he could see acceptance in her eyes. Acceptance of him, of the situation. No doubt, no reluctance. Only support.
He was very glad, indeed.