Chapter One #2
Kenton didn’t say anything. He just stared at her.
Nicola knew he was not soft, nor sympathetic in any way.
This was the great Kenton le Bec, a man feared and hated throughout the realm.
Why he had to attack Babylon was a stroke of bitter luck.
They had held out as long as they could. Now she could see it was all at an end.
She lowered her gaze and looked away. “I will… show you.”
“You will tell me.”
“Please.” Her tone was almost desperate. “I must show you.”
“Madam, I am trying to be as tolerant as possible. Your stalling attempts are not well met.”
“I am not stalling, my lord. But I would ask…. please, that if you must know, you must allow me to show you.”
Kenton pondered that a moment. He didn’t like to compromise a demand. It showed weakness. But he removed his arms and stood back, indicating for the moment that he would trust her word as a lady and allow her to show him where her husband was. He motioned to Conor.
“Stay here with the prisoners,” he said. “I will take Gerik and Ack with me.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find Lord Thorne.”
Conor cocked an eyebrow but said nothing.
He motioned to Gerik and Ackerley, who immediately went to their liege.
The three knights followed Nicola from the kitchens, listening to the sobs of her youngest children undoubtedly thinking they would never see their mother again.
From the great hall above the kitchens, she led them out into the bailey, hardly flinching at the death and destruction she saw there.
Across the muck was a rather large, half-moon shaped structure built into the inner wall.
There were long, thin windows on the curve of the structure, allowing weak light to penetrate into the gloom.
The interior was cool and dark, and Kenton immediately recognized the chapel.
The majority of the room was set deep into the protective inner wall.
Three pews were situated towards the front of the chamber and there were at least four sepulchers that he could see, two with large stone effigies affixed to the tomb.
Kenton paused by the door, thinking Gaylord to be a wise man to seek sanctuary within his own chapel.
Public or private, the Holy Church had jurisdiction over all sacred meeting places and removing the man from here would prove controversial at best. He watched Nicola make her way over to one of the low-built, stone crypts.
“I am waiting, Madam.”
She looked at him and he could see a tremendous sadness in the pale green eyes. Then she reluctantly patted the stone. “He’s here.”
Kenton cast her a long look. “Where?”
“In here.”
“He’s dead?”
“Aye.”
“How long?”
“Four months now.”
He made his way over to her, slowly, his gaze sweeping across the plain, gray tomb. There was nothing of decoration on it at all. Without remorse or emotion, he turned to his knights. “Open it.”
Nicola was horrified. “No! You mustn’t!”
“I must confirm your story, Madam. Surely you know that.”
“But… you cannot violate his tomb!”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “There is no name on this tomb. It could be empty for all I know and your husband could be halfway to Scotland by now. If he is not in here, your children will receive the punishment for your lies. You do realize that, of course.”
“Of course I do, I’m no fool,” she struggled not to become hysterical. “He is in there, I tell you. I would not lie with my children’s lives at stake.”
Gerik returned to the chapel bearing a heavy hammer. He marched straight to the sepulcher and raised the hammer above his head.
“Wait!” Nicola cried. “Please, hear me first before you smash it to bits and release this horrible secret!”
Gerik ignored her. He was in the process of bringing the hammer down when Kenton stopped him. His incredible strength halted what surely would have been a crushing blow. Kenton looked at the woman, his blue eyes hard.
“This is the second mention of such a secret. You will tell me now.”
“I will. But please… do not smash the tomb.”
Kenton sent Gerik aside, waiting with the hammer as a threat to her should she not do as she was told. The lady stood there a moment, distress etched on her lovely features.
“I am waiting, Madam.”
She knew that. Lord, she knew that. “The children do not know that he is dead.”
“Why not?”
She sighed heavily, claiming a seat on the nearest pew for support. There was lethargy in her manner, a resignation of someone who had been witness to far too much pain and suffering.
“I told them that he is away, fighting Edward’s war.”
“Why would you do that?”
The tears that had been on the surface since their introduction came forth and spilled down her creamy cheeks.
Kenton felt a strange tugging in his chest, something he didn’t recognize.
Until he felt it again later in his life, he did not realize that it was compassion.
He watched her wipe at her cheeks and summon bravery.
“My husband was not a kind man, my lord,” she said quietly. “He… he would drink quite often and find delight in using me to alleviate his fury. My boys knew this, of course. One night, nearly six months ago, my husband was releasing his fury by taking his fists to me. Tab heard this and….”
“Tab?”
“My eldest son.”
“Continue.”
Nicola swallowed, her mouth dry with embarrassment and fear.
“Tab heard what his father was doing to me. He raced into our chamber and drove a sword into his father’s back.
No one knows where he got the sword; he never would tell me.
More than likely he stole it from a soldier.
In any case, it wasn’t a deep puncture, but it did wound him.
But it wasn’t the injury that killed Gaylord; it was the infection.
My husband succumbed to the fever as a result of Tab’s sword. ”
The tugging in Kenton’s chest grew worse but he ignored it. “I still do not understand what the secret is.”
Nicola looked at him, then, deep sorrow in her eyes.
“Tab killed his father, my lord. He didn’t mean to, but he was protecting me.
Tab doesn’t know; we never told him. He knew his father was sick, but to explain Gaylord’s sudden absence, we told the boys that he recovered and went back to war.
Tab cannot know that his father is dead, much less that he was the cause of it.
If you smash this tomb to confirm that Gaylord is there, I do not know how I can keep it from him. ”
Kenton understood then. And from what he had seen of her eldest son in the kitchens, he had no doubt that the little lad was extremely protective of his mother and apparently for good reason.
But he was a warrior, and he knew, perhaps more than anyone, that trust was misplaced in warfare.
He took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet.
“I understand your dilemma, Madam,” he tried not to sound harsh. “But you must also understand that I have certain obligations. I must locate Gaylord Thorne, and if I must destroy this tomb in order to do so, then so be it.”
He handed her off to Gerik, trading the lady for the hammer. Nicola didn’t fly into a panic as she had nearly done before; she was beyond that. She simply stood there, staring at him with those great green eyes.
“Do you not trust my word, my lord?” she asked softly.
Kenton couldn’t believe it; a chill actually raced up his spine. Whether it be from her tone or her words, he wasn’t certain. All he knew was that this woman was somehow trying to bewitch him and he was tremendously annoyed by it. He wouldn’t look at her, nor would he answer.
“Please, Sir Kenton,” she begged quietly. “Please do not do this terrible thing.”
Kenton raised the tool. As Gerik pulled Nicola from the chapel, the last thing she heard was the hammer being slammed against the cold stone of Gaylord Thorne’s tomb.
*
They hadn’t touched the keep yet, but she knew that was only a matter of time.
Nicola sat in the solar she loved so well, gazing about at her furnishings, wondering what she was going to lose and how soon she was going to lose it.
More than likely the soldiers would take everything, considering them spoils of war.
She tried not to let her depression show, but it was difficult.
Tab sat at her feet, pretending to busy himself with the wheel of a toy cart.
One of the twins had broken it and even at five years of age, Tab was mature beyond his years and was able to make the simple repair.
He had learned at an early age to depend on himself or his mother, because his father was a cruel, vicious man who was only to be feared.
Teague and Tiernan lay on the floor over by the hearth, playing with small wooden soldiers as they usually did.
There were some old rushes between them, making a prime battle ground for their typical game of war.
Nicola watched them distractedly, befuddled by the events of the past several days and concerned for her future and for her sons’ future.
So Kenton le Bec had them. She’d heard the name before, many times in the past, for the man was said to be King Henry’s, and Warwick’s, most powerful knight.
He wasn’t a baron or an earl, but a mere knight, leading a thousand men into the most battle-weary regions of the country all in the name of the king.
Everyone in Yorkshire, or England for that matter, was terrified of him, herself included.