Chapter Fourteen #3
“I want to start this conversation from the beginning so there is no misunderstanding,” he said as Anteaus began to pour the wine into cups. “Jax de Velt razed Fountainhall as only de Velt can and left Canmore to interrogate.”
Alastor nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
“And after he was finished with Canmore, after discovering that The Rough’s time for invasion into Northumberland was summer, he sent Canmore to you for further interrogation.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Canmore told you that the truth lies in Berwick, which leads us to believe that the longships will enter through the River Tweed to reinforce the Scot’s invasion into the north.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“And the Justiciar of Scotia, Alexander MacDuff, came all the way to The Keld to demand an answer to the missives Canmore sent you, an invitation to join their rebellion.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“He tried to destroy the village when you refused to join.”
“That is what happened, my lord.”
William took a cup of wine offered by Anteaus, drinking deeply as he pondered what he’d been told so far. Alastor was looking at Cole, silently suggesting he tell the man about Addax and Essien.
Cole took the hint.
“There is more beyond that, my lord,” Cole said. “After learning of Berwick, and after the attack on the village, I returned to Pelinom with Addax and Essien al-Kort. They have been with me since the beginning of this situation and they are invaluable.”
Across the chamber, Christopher smiled wearily.
“The Princes of Kitara,” he said, accepting a cup of wine that was offered to him.
“I have not seen them in many years. When The Marshal told me that they were involved, I wasn’t surprised.
I knew them as young lads, you know. I was the first English knight they had contact with in The Levant.
Were it not for me and Marcus Burton, my old and close friend, those two might have wandered into trouble and gotten themselves killed.
Mayhap you already know this, Cole, but when I found them, they had just escaped from a merchant caravan. ”
Cole looked at him curiously. “I did not know,” he said. “What were they doing with a merchant caravan?”
Christopher made his way over to a big, cushioned chair in front of the hearth, pushing Achilles away when he tried to steal it away from him. He lowered his bulk down carefully.
“When they had escaped the revolution in their father’s kingdom, a merchant caravan took them in,” he said.
“Addax, Essien, and the servants who smuggled them out of Kitara were given shelter and protection with this caravan, but by the time they reached Acre, they’d starved and beaten Addax and Essien nearly to death. When they escaped, I found them.”
Cole nodded in understanding. “They had not told me their circumstances,” he said. “I knew that they were acquainted with you in The Levant, but not how they came to know you. You saved them, my lord.”
“They were good lads,” Christopher said.
“They were smart, eager to learn. When the crusade was over, I headed home but they went to Thuringia with a group of Thuringian knights. They were good men; I knew them. I had my own problems with Richard and John, and I simply did not have time to worry over two young men who needed more attention than I could give them.”
“They speak of you most fondly, my lord,” Cole said. “They will be happy to see you.”
“Where are they?”
The warmth in Cole’s eyes faded and he looked to The Marshal.
“That is what I was about to tell you,” he said.
“When we returned to Pelinom and told my father what we knew, he sent Addax and Essien to Berwick to discover what they could and report back to him. The Scots hold the castle, as you know.”
The Marshal nodded. “I know,” he said. “That has long been my regret that Richard sold Berwick to raise money for his foolish campaign to The Levant. The last I heard, the Earl of Ross was in command.”
Cole nodded. “Angus MacHeth has control of it, but it is his son who is the garrison commander,” he said. “It makes perfect sense that Berwick would be the point of entry for the Northmen, my lord. With MacHeth in command of the garrison, there will be no one to stop them unless…”
The Marshal was listening closely. “Unless what?”
“Unless we lay siege and wrest control from the Scots. I believe my father thinks we should.”
“That is exactly what I think.”
The voice came from the chamber door. Startled by the voice that was deep and raspy, everyone turned to see Jax standing in the opening flanked by Addax and Essien.
A smile spread across Cole’s face.
“Greetings, Papa,” he said. “I did not know you were coming. Why did you not send word?”
Jax stepped into the chamber and the first person to physically greet him was Christopher. From one old friend to another, Christopher embraced the man, happy to see him. He and Jax smiled at each other for a moment before Jax turned to his son, to the men in the chamber.
“I did not send word of my arrival because it was faster to simply come here myself rather than send a messenger,” he said, his gaze moving from Cole to The Marshal.
“It is a two-day ride from Pelinom, but I thought it important to come personally to see Lord Bernicia. What I did not expect was to see the Scarlet Lion standards flying over an encampment to the west. My lord, it is agreeable to see you again.”
He was addressing The Marshal at that point, and William was thrilled to see his most fearsome warlord.
Even more than The Marshal himself, Ajax de Velt was legendary.
The modest solar of Alastor de Bourne, at the moment, was filled with legends.
Moreover, there weren’t many men The Marshal was so terribly excited to see, but Jax was one of them.
He approached the man, reaching out a hand to him.
Jax took it.
“De Velt,” The Marshal said with satisfaction. “I am pleased. I was told of your success with Fountainhall. Excellent work, as always.”
Jax held The Marshal’s hand for a moment before releasing it. “Laying siege and sowing destruction is much like riding a horse,” he said. “One never forgets, even if one has not ridden in twenty-five years or more. I am pleased with the outcome as well. It was… fruitful.”
“Fruitful, indeed,” The Marshal said. “We were just discussing the fall of Fountainhall and the death of Canmore.”
Jax nodded his head before The Marshal even finished speaking.
“Aye, that was most unexpected,” he said.
“But I believe we received the information we needed from him, and after Addax and Essien spent the past month in Berwick, we have even more. Thank God you are here, William, because you need to hear this.”
The mood took a serious turn as everyone looked over at Addax and Essien. Since Essien was the one who had actually gotten the information first-hand, Addax gave his brother a gentle shove, encouraging him to speak. Everyone was looking at him expectantly.
Essien took the hint.
“My brother and I spent the past several weeks in Berwick, pretending to be sailors looking for a job aboard one of the many cogs that come into the city,” he said.
Essien was an excellent orator, comfortable in a group of men.
“We also pretended to be drunk every day so jobs were not forthcoming because no one wants to hire a drunken sailor, but pretending to be in that state afforded us the ability to glean information any way we could.”
“What did you hear?” The Marshal wanted to know.
Essien fixed on him. “We left Berwick four days ago,” he said.
“On the last day we were there, I spent time with a woman who was known to keep company with men from the garrison at Berwick Castle. I will not tell you how I received the information from her, but suffice it to say that I did and I believe it reliable. The woman had told me things before that had come to pass, so her information has been proven. She told me that according to her lover, who is one of the commanders at Berwick, the Scots are already moving south. They are already heading for Berwick.”
That was the information they had all been looking for and every man was listening intently. The Marshal, hearing what he had hoped not to hear, at least not yet, sighed heavily.
“When?”
“Now, my lord,” Essien said. “She told me that they were coming to Berwick to join their Northman allies and that the entire city was to celebrate the arrival of the Northmen soon.”
The Marshal’s eyebrows rose. “The Northmen are already moving for Berwick?” he asked, trying not to appear too surprised. “When are they coming?”
“Any day, my lord,” Essien said quietly.
“Everything is happening now. I do not know when her lover received this information, but I know she was with him the afternoon that she told me all of this. It is possible he told her then, which means William the Rough’s army has been heading south from Edinburgh for days. ”
“Christ,” Cole muttered. “They could be there right now for all we know. That means the Northmen’s arrival must be imminent. If they take those longships into the River Tweed, we may never get them out.”
For a moment, everyone froze, looking at each other in surprise. They had expected to have weeks, even months, before the Scots and the Northmen converged, but according to Essien’s source, that event was imminent.
The unholy alliance was coming together imminently.
With that realization, The Marshal took his empty cup and poured himself another measure of Alastor’s fine French wine. He downed nearly half the cup before turning to the group.
“The time for action, good knights, is now,” he said calmly. “We cannot wait for the rest of the armies to join us. We must move and we must do it tomorrow. Essien, did the woman tell you how many men the Scots are bringing?”
Essien didn’t look happy. In fact, he glanced at the men around him, at his brother, before answering.