Chapter Three
As Kenton had predicted, Warwick and his advisors arrived the next day.
Having never seen Babylon Castle from the interior, Neville was more than impressed with the structure. From its imposing gray-stoned walls to its towering keep, Warwick could see how the fortress gained its reputation based purely on what he was seeing. All of it was quite impressive.
The colors of Henry flew from the battlements, the sounds of the banners flapping in the breeze drawing Warwick’s attention. Dismounting his steed, he gazed up, thinking it was a rather fine sight to see Henry’s standards dominating the castle. It was a sight he wasn’t sure if he would ever see.
“You have arrived safely, my lord,” came a voice behind him. “Welcome to Babylon.”
Warwick turned, grinning, to see Kenton walking towards him. “And so I have,” he said. He swept his arm out to indicate his surroundings. “I am pleased, Kenton. You and the Trouble Trio have done well.”
Kenton cracked a half-grin; Warwick meant Conor, Gerik, and Ackerley.
Years ago, when they had served the Earl of Thetford, they had earned the nicknames Trouble, More Trouble, and Lucifer’s Brother.
In fact, Atticus de Wolfe, The Lion of the North, and the current Baron Killham, had given them that name.
They wore it like a badge of honor and had for almost ten years.
Now, however, they were simply called the Trouble Trio.
Anyone in Henry’s service knew what that name meant – three of the most powerful knights on the border.
Serving under Kenton le Bec, however, the four of them were nearly invincible.
“Thank you, my lord,” Kenton said. “It was something of a task, but we managed.”
Warwick nodded, his gaze lingering on the walls. “This is more than I had hoped for,” he said. “From the looks of those walls, it is no wonder it took as long as it did to secure it.”
Kenton glanced up at the walls, wriggling his dark eyebrows as he remembered the effort it took to mount them.
“It was no simple feat, I assure you,” he said.
“Mayhap you noted the slope of the ground as you approached the castle. It makes it very difficult to get a foothold for the ladders or siege engines on such an angle. That is what took us so long.”
Warwick grunted in understanding. “Indeed,” he said.
His gaze upon the surrounding fortress turned wistful.
“We have wanted Babylon for quite some time. With her capture, it will make many things possible for Henry. He will be very pleased. Now, show me this place so that I may gloat in your victory.”
With a half-grin, Kenton took the lead as Warwick and his advisors, eight decorated and powerful men, followed.
“As you can see, the bailey is large enough to house thousands. There is a troop house on the south side, built into the curtain wall, that can house at least a thousand men. There is also knight housing and various other shelters we can lodge men in and those we cannot fit into individual structures can be housed in the great hall and the keep. The entire fortress is self-sufficient and self-contained.”
Warwick listened with interest. “And Gaylord Thorne?” he asked. “We have been friends and allies in the past, you know. He is a pragmatic and somewhat brutal man. I cannot imagine he turned this all over to you so easily.”
Kenton looked at him as they walked. “He is dead,” he replied. “He died four months ago. I confirmed his body in the family crypt, buried in the chapel.”
Warwick was surprised. “Dead, you say?” he repeated. “How?”
“A festering wound from what I was told.”
Warwick found it all very interesting and, in truth, very satisfying.
It was one less thing to worry about. Although he and Gaylord had been friends in years past when both of them had served Edward, he didn’t particularly care for the man.
“This is unexpected,” he said. “I had thought to have the man as a prisoner. At least, I had hoped.”
Kenton’s mind moved to the family Thorne had left behind.
“We have his wife and sons as hostages,” he told Warwick.
“Lady Thorne has thus far proven to be as formidable as her husband, more so in some respects. You will find your conversations with her interesting should you decide to interrogate her.”
“Have you interrogated her yet?”
Kenton nodded. “Somewhat,” he said. “It is my sense that she doesn’t know anything critical to our cause but she does bear watching. I would not put it past her to try and slip a dagger into the ribs of the enemy.”
Warwick paused in their walk, eyeing him. “Is she dangerous, then?”
Kenton shook his head. “I do not believe so, in truth,” he said. “But she is a staunch supporter of Edward. She had made that clear. I have consigned her and her children to the fourth floor of the keep where there are three small rooms. She will be more easily watched from there.”
Warwick thought on the situation. “She should be removed,” he said. “I can send her to Warwick Castle as a hostage. She might prove valuable.”
“With Thorne dead? I am not sure what value she would have.”
Warwick shrugged. “That is true,” he said. “Still, I am not entirely sure I am comfortable with her on the loose.”
Kenton cleared his throat softly. He couldn’t believe he was about to defend a woman who had been a combative shrew from the start.
“This is a rather large fortress,” he said, eyeing Warwick for the man’s reaction as he spoke.
“It is in need of a chatelaine who knows the fortress intimately. It is my intention to keep Lady Thorne here to oversee the keep and the daily functions of the castle. If I send her away, I will have to assign one of my men to do woman’s work and that will not make the lucky candidate very happy. ”
Warwick laughed softly. “There is truth in what you say,” he said. “Very well; Lady Thorne will remain. But mind she does not poison our food.”
Kenton nodded. “She will have a guard with her constantly.”
Satisfied with the utilization of Lady Thorne, the two men continued with their tour of Babylon and Warwick was increasingly impressed with the acquisition of the fortress.
But the truth was that he was weary and, eventually, Kenton took him into the keep and put him in the large, comfortable master’s chamber that overlooked the bailey and the gatehouse.
Kenton wondered if he should send for Nicola to help settle Warwick but thought better of it.
He didn’t think she would be too receptive to help settle a man who had essentially taken over her fortress and her very world for that matter.
So he ordered his men to assist Warwick and, soon enough, the man was settled down in the lavish master’s chamber.
The last Kenton saw of him, he was sprawled out wearily on Gaylord Thorne’s comfortable bed.
Leaving Warwick to rest in the chamber of his conquered enemy, Kenton resisted the urge to take the small flight upstairs up to the fourth floor to check on Lady Thorne.
He was perfectly within his right to check up on the woman, but she would only end up provoking him in some manner and he would leave angry and frustrated.
Interesting how hordes of men couldn’t invite his temper but a small, lovely slip of a woman could.
Fighting off a smile at the thought of their verbal battles, which he evidently wasn’t as frustrated with as he tried to convince himself, he headed down to the bailey with the intention of overseeing the settling of the rest of Warwick’s men.
But thoughts of Lady Thorne lingered.
*
They’d spent most of the morning moving their possessions up from the third floor family chambers and into the fourth floor small rooms, which were meant for servants to sleep in.
Now, the three small rooms had become her living quarters and Nicola was determined to make the best of it.
There wasn’t much she could do about it, anyway.
She had to make the best of it, thankful that she was at least out of the vault. It could have been much worse.
Between her, Liesl, Raven, Janet, and the three boys, they had made short work out of moving their possessions.
The beds, however, were another matter; one of Kenton’s men, the man she had been introduced to as Conor de Birmingham, helped bring the boys’ little beds up to one of the rooms. There were already two beds in one of the chambers, beds that weren’t entirely uncomfortable, and Conor wouldn’t allow her to bring the big master’s bed upstairs. That bed, he said, had to remain.
Nicola didn’t fight him on it, assuming as he did that Kenton would more than likely be sleeping on it.
But she did want her coverlets and bed linens.
Fearful that Conor wouldn’t let her bring linens and other items upstairs, she waited until the red-haired knight left before going back to her former chamber and removing what she could.
When she was finished, the chamber was nearly stripped.
Pleased in a sadistic way that she had left virtually nothing for le Bec to use in the master’s chamber, she threw herself into organizing her current apartments.
They were cluttered and small, but she would make do.
As she supervised her servants as the women put clothing away and organized personal care and other items, the boys were playing in their small chamber.
As usual, Teague had his little wooden knights on the floor, with their spears, while Tab was bossing Tiernan around and telling the boy to push the little beds into a certain configuration.
Tab was very good at giving orders and Nicola paused in her duties to smile at her eldest son who had a natural air of command about him. He was much like his father in that respect; Gaylord had a very commanding persona. He was decisive and unbending, something Tab tended to be as well.