Chapter Six #2
They were heading out of the gatehouse now as a group, out into the inner ward that was full of men camping on the frozen ground.
A thick haze of smoke from the fires blanketed the area, made worse by the snow that was falling.
It kept the smoke low and heavy, stinging their eyes as they walked through it.
“One last thing, Kenton,” Warwick said as they made their way to the keep.
“Be wary of Conisbrough Castle to the south of you. Edward owns it. It is stocked with his men. I’ve not yet heard of the castle taking any punitive action in this area, but it is a foregone conclusion that they know Babylon now belongs to Henry.
As I said, it is my belief that the retreating army will head there to gather more forces.
That will bring the garrison to your doorstep. ”
Kenton was well aware of Conisbrough, a very big castle that belonged to Edward. “Indeed, my lord,” he said. “I shall watch them closely.”
Warwick’s gaze was moving up, through the smoke, to focus on the monstrous keep ahead.
“Edward is undoubtedly unhappy that we now have Babylon,” he said, an ominous hint of warning to his tone.
“The siege we experienced over the past few days might only be the beginning. I have a feeling there will be many such sieges to come. That being the case, I will reinforce your knight ranks with two additional knights who have been in my service for a couple of years. Sir Matthew Wellesbourne and Sir Gaston de Russe are two of the finest men I have ever seen in action. They may be young but they are seasoned. They fight like men who have been doing it their entire lives. I believe they will make an excellent addition to your ranks. You will rely on them heavily. I trust their judgment and so will you.”
Kenton thought on Wellesbourne and de Russe; he knew them both and his opinion was the same as Warwick’s – he’d never seen finer knights. In fact, he was quite pleased with Warwick’s suggestion.
“I know Matt and Gaston,” he said. “I have fought with them in the past on occasion, although they have mostly been with you and not out with me and my strike force. I am honored that you would leave them in my command, my lord.”
Warwick paused by the steps that led up into the keep.
“Wellesbourne is very much loved by the men and will make an excellent commander by your right hand,” he said.
“No offense intended for de Birmingham or Forbes or le Mon, but Wellesbourne has a wisdom that nearly exceeds mine. And de Russe… God’s Blood, you know his reputation. He rips men apart with his bare hands.”
Kenton cracked a grin. “I have seen evidence of that,” he said. “I have heard rumor that the men have started calling him The Dark One.”
“It is no rumor.”
Kenton chuckled. “Then I will try to stay on his good side.”
Warwick’s gaze lingered on Kenton. “I would suspect he had better stay on yours,” he said. Then, he turned for the keep. “I will meet with my advisors now and we will plan our advance on Wakefield. Where will you be so that I can send Wellesbourne and de Russe to you?”
Kenton gestured inside the keep. “Into the hall,” he said. “I’ve not eaten since yesterday. They can find me in there.”
Warwick simply nodded and took the stairs into the keep with Kenton on his heels.
But they separated as soon as they entered the tall, two-storied entry.
Warwick went into Gaylord’s solar to the right of the entry whilst Kenton continued on into the hall in front of him.
His thoughts were lingering on Wellesbourne and de Russe but he was quickly distracted at the sight of all of the wounded in the hall and the great hearth that was breathing smoke and sparks into the room in a vain attempt to ward off the cold.
Stepping further into the hall with the hope of obtaining something to eat, he spied Nicola almost immediately.
The chatelaine of Babylon was kneeling down next to a wounded man, feeding him something out of a bowl.
Kenton took a moment to simply look at her; her lovely blond hair was braided, tucked back into a kerchief, and her beautiful face held a warm and comforting expression.
God, he’d never seen anything so lovely or reassuring in his entire life.
It was a weak moment, one weak with emotion and fatigue.
All he wanted to do at that moment was go to Nicola and take her in his arms, taking solace in her warm and soft body, feeling her flesh in his hands and her scent in his nostrils to remind him that there were still things of beauty left in the world.
War seemed to erase all memories of peace and joy from him.
At the moment, he was feeling fairly exhausted and desolate.
He realized, at that moment, that he needed her.
Needed her!
It was a shocking thought. He’d never needed anyone or anything in his life.
Until now.
As if she could sense his presence and perhaps even his thoughts, Nicola suddenly looked up and saw Kenton standing several feet away.
He was pale and sporting a growth of dark beard.
Their eyes locked and, quickly, she passed the bowl she was holding off to one of her serving women, hovering behind her.
She wiped her hands on her apron as she approached Kenton.
“So you are alive,” she commented. She meant it to be a wry quip but it ended up coming out as a concerned statement. “I had wondered. I have not seen you in days. How is your shoulder?”
The sound of her sweet, gentle voice was like music to his ears. He had missed it. “It has healed completely thanks to your tending.”
“I must take the stitches out.”
“No need. I removed them myself.”
Nicola winced at the sound of that particularly unsavory action, removing stitches from oneself. But she wasn’t surprised that Kenton would do such a thing. The man seemed impervious to pain or fear or anything else that men considered a weakness.
“I could have just as easily done it for you,” she said quietly, not knowing what else to say on the matter. She changed subjects. “How goes the battle? Does it show any signs of ending?”
He nodded. “It has already ended,” he said. “Edward’s army is retreating and Babylon has emerged triumphant.”
Nicola was relieved to know that the battles, for the moment, were over. “But for how long?” she asked. “I cannot imagine that Edward will leave Babylon to Henry without much more than a single attempt to regain it.”
Kenton shook his head. “More than likely not,” he said quietly. “But for now, Babylon will know a measure of peace.”
Nicola thought on that. She wasn’t eager to face more battles, at least not any time soon. She looked around the room to the wounded men crowding the hall and she sighed heavily.
“Hopefully these men will be much better by the time we face another attack,” she said.
Then, she looked at Kenton again and realized that the man looked as if he were on the verge of collapse.
His pale face was paler and his eyes were dark-circled.
She hadn’t really noticed his fatigue until this moment.
“Come and sit, Kenton. You must be famished. I will bring you some food.”
Kenton. It was the first time he’d heard his name from her lips and he instantly, deeply loved the sound of it.
He never knew his name could sound so good.
She’d only called him “my lord” once or twice and most of the time she ignored any semblance of title at all.
She was very clear in that she had no respect for him and his position at Babylon.
But he didn’t care about any of that at the moment.
He wanted to hear her call him Kenton for always.
It was the most natural of things coming out of her delicious mouth.
Without replying, he sat down at the end of the feasting table, one with wounded men lying on top of it.
He simply sat because she told him to and he watched as she scurried away, off to a section of the hall he couldn’t see but he knew that area had a servant’s alcove and a door that had stairs leading down to the kitchen yard.
When she was gone, it was as if a light had gone out of the hall.
It seemed like a darker and more dismal place.
Feeling more exhausted by the second, Kenton raked his fingers through his dark hair, thinking on washing and shaving his face before trying to catch a few hours of sleep.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Truth be told, he was much too tired to plan anything beyond the next few moments.
Nicola reappeared a short time later with a tray of food.
She was followed by one of her serving women, the dark-haired girl named Raven, the one that his knights had been eyeing, as the girl carried a pitcher and some other items. Nicola practically ran up to the table and set the tray down in front of him.
“I have some lovely, hot stew for you,” she said, putting a big, wooden bowl full of something steaming in front of him.
She also began to put various other things in front of him.
“I found a spoon, too. Oh, and here is some cheese and bread, and Raven has brought warmed wine for you. I hope this will be enough. Our provisions are quite low so I cannot offer you more than this.”
Kenton simply nodded as he picked up the spoon and plowed into the stew.
It was hot and salty and delicious. The bread wasn’t very fresh but it didn’t matter; he tore apart the chunk and dipped it in the stew, slurping it up.
He was so hungry that he hadn’t noticed Nicola now moving away from the table to leave him to eat in peace, but when he realized she was leaving, he called her back.
“My lady,” he said, motioning for her to sit when she turned to look at him. “Please sit. Tell me about our lack of provisions. I fear that we shall have to remedy the situation quickly with the number of men we have within the walls of Babylon. Are we truly so low on stores?”