Chapter Twelve #2
Conor charged from the solar followed by the soldier.
He was in the entry, heading for the door to the keep, when he caught sight of Nicola as she emerged from the hall with her boys in tow.
Tab was begging his mother for something while Teague seemed to be deliberately tripping Tiernan, who fell onto one knee with his brother’s bullying and came up swinging.
Nicola came to a stop and put out a hand, stilling the brotherly fight. Conor called out to her politely.
“My lady,” he said. “If you require service of me, I will be upon the battlements.”
Nicola had her hand on Teague’s balled fists. “Very well,” she said politely.
“I would assume the evening meal will be at its usual time?”
Nicola nodded. “It will.”
With a forced smile, Conor quit the keep, heading towards the gatehouse beneath the cold and dark sky.
Nicola watched the man go, her thoughts lingering on him as she turned for the stairs that led to the upper levels.
Conor had kept a polite distance from her and she from him, but even so, the distance wasn’t enough.
Every time she saw him she was reminded of Kenton, which wasn’t particularly a surprise considering the man occupied nearly every waking thought.
Nicola thought that his departure would help her forget about him, to help her to hate him and all he represented, when, in fact, it did just the opposite.
Time had tried to heal that ache. She wanted to go to him and tell him why she was so angry with him, so hurt, and hope that he had an explanation about his words that she could believe.
She’d never even given him the chance to explain, but at the time, there had been no reason to.
She had heard him speaking, unguarded, to his men. That was explanation enough.
… wasn’t it?
Torn with grief and confusion and longing for a man who had only been using her, Nicola tried to shake off thoughts of Kenton le Bec as she directed the boys to the stairs.
She trailed along behind them, stopping Teague from clobbering his brother again, as they made their way to the upper floor.
They were nearly to the top of the flight of stairs when a soft call came from below.
“My lady?”
Nicola paused, looking down to see Janet standing in the darkened entry below. “What is it?” she asked.
Janet looked around nervously before silently motioning for Nicola to come to her.
Nicola looked at her curiously and Janet did it again, this time pointing frantically in the direction of the kitchen.
Curious, not to mention oddly concerned, Nicola instructed Tab to take his brothers up to their chambers.
As Tab began dragging them up the remainder of the steps, Nicola went to Janet.
“What is the matter?” Nicola asked as she came off the stairs. “Why are you…?”
Janet shushed her softly. “Not here, my lady,” she whispered. “Hurry, you must come with me.”
She dashed off and Nicola quickly followed. Janet wasn’t usually the jumpy type so the maid’s manner had Nicola naturally intrigued. She soon found out why.
Seated just inside the kitchen door near the hearth, with a steaming cup of wine in his hand, sat the stable boy Nicola had sent to Conisbrough over a week ago.
Hermenia was hovering over the lad, spooning great globs of hot stew into his frozen mouth, as Janet and Nicola entered the low-ceilinged kitchen.
It was quite warm, and quite smoky, as Nicola quickly went to the shivering lad.
“Hux?” she gasped, reaching out to touch the boy and realizing that he was literally frozen solid; his clothes were hard with ice. “God’s Bones, Hermenia. We must remove his clothing. It is like a block of ice!”
Hermenia set the bowl of stew down. “I know it, m’lady,” she fretted. “But he couldn’t move his face. I thought to warm it at the very first.”
Nicola, Janet, and Hermenia began yanking pieces of clothing off the boy – the inadequate gloves, his shoes, a stiff wool coat, and a wrap around his head.
It all came off, all frozen and wet, and Janet laid it on the hot floor in front of the hearth.
Nicola shoved the lad upon his stool closer to the blaze and he, as well as his clothing, steamed as the warmth began to saturate through the wet and ice.
“Hux?” Nicola asked again, helping the lad drink the hot wine because he was having difficulty holding on to the cup. “What happened? How did you get back into the compound? Did the soldiers see you?”
The young man who had seen sixteen hard years shook his head. “They did not see me, m’lady,” he assured her, teeth chattering. “I came up by way of the river and into the postern gate. Hermenia saw me first, through the gate, and chased the soldiers away so she could open it.”
Nicola was glad the boy hadn’t been caught entering by Kenton’s eagle-eyed soldiers.
“De Birmingham has men all over the walls,” she muttered, thinking on the soldiers she had seen from her chamber window.
“It is truly a miracle that you were not seen by them when you left the first time and now when you have returned. God must be on our side.”
As the serving women nodded, Hux’s pinched face grew very serious. “Where is le Bec, my lady?”
Nicola held the boys trembling hands, keeping them wrapped around the warm cup.
“He left more than a week ago,” she said.
“He left for Rochdale and Manchester. I do not know what has happened, exactly, because I’ve not asked, but I heard that he took Rochdale with ease. He must be at Manchester by now.”
“Then he is not here, my lady?”
“Nay.”
The young man coughed and choked down another swallow of warm wine. “How many men and knights are here?”
Nicola was somewhat puzzled by the question. “Only one knight was left behind,” she said. “Conor de Birmingham. There are mayhap two hundred men. Not very many at all. Le Bec took almost all of his men with him.”
“And how many men do we have that are loyal to you and to Lord Gaylord?”
Nicola was increasingly puzzled by the questions. “As many as were here when le Bec took over the castle,” she said. “Two of my husband’s knights, the old pair, and thirty-seven men. That is all we had. Hux, why do you ask so many questions? What has happened?”
The young man took another long drink of wine, slurping it now that he was getting some feeling back into his lips.
“Brome St. John of Conisbrough Castle sent me back to you with a message,” he said.
“He says to tell you that he is taking men to engage Kenton le Bec but that he needs your help to regain Babylon for Edward. There are men from Conisbrough waiting in the woods to the south and they want to enter the castle. They want to take it back.”
Nicola looked at him, both surprised and fearful by the information. “What do they want me to do?”
“Let them in, my lady.”
Nicola rocked back on her heels, absorbing the request. She was being asked to open the gates to Conisbrough’s garrison, to admit men that were loyal to Edward.
They wanted to take the castle back, to restore it to its rightful self.
Wasn’t that what she wanted, too? To restore Babylon to Tab, as the rightful lord of Babylon?
Kenton le Bec was a usurper, a common thief for stealing what did not belong to him.
Now that he was away, it was a perfect time to gain it back.
He would return to Babylon and find that it no longer belonged to him.
She couldn’t imagine that he would let it go so easily, but with seasoned soldiers inside her walls to stave him off, surely the walls would hold this time.
Surely he would be the one leaving in defeat. That was what she wanted.
… wasn’t it?
Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t. Nicola couldn’t seem to summon her courage at the moment.
She had sent word to Conisbrough to betray Kenton but somewhere over the past few days, she had wavered on that stance.
That was never more obvious than at this moment.
But she couldn’t waver. Kenton wanted nothing more than to betray her.
She had heard it from his own lips. But those same lips had told her that he loved her.
God, she was so confused!
“I cannot let them in through the gatehouse,” she said. “The postern gate would be the only way and it will only allow one man in at a time. If someone were to see them….”
She trailed off, shaking her head, gazing back at the young man with some trepidation. But the young man seemed to have the courage and conviction she lacked.
“It can be done, m’lady,” he assured her.
“I must go back to them and show them the way. They can come in through the kitchen yard and into the keep through the kitchens. Those at the gatehouse cannot see the kitchens from where they are. It will be too late when they realize we will regain the castle.”
The wheels were in motion and Nicola could not stop them.
Men were here, ready to help her take back her castle, and she could not hesitate.
She had to think on her sons and their future; they would not have a future if le Bec were to regain Babylon.
Their legacy and wealth would belong to Kenton.
Think of your children! She told herself.
Stop thinking with your heart and think with your head, you fool!
“Very well,” she finally said, but it was difficult to spit the words out. “Go back to Conisbrough’s men and lead them to the postern gate. We shall try to get them into the kitchens unseen. How many men are there?”
“About forty, my lady,” the young man replied. “Enough to make it to the gatehouse and open it.”
“But there are at least two hundred men here.”
“They will not be an issue if they are distracted.”
Nicola’s eyebrows lifted. “Are the Conisbrough men setting up a distraction for those on watch?”