Chapter Fifteen #3
Brome nodded. “He does, indeed,” he said, looking to Tab. “And this is your son, my lady?”
Nicola nodded. “This is my eldest son, Tab,” she said. “There are two more boys, younger. You will see them about, too.”
Brome smiled faintly at Tab, who was looking up at him with a great deal of hostility.
“You have a fine young man by your side, my lady,” he said, wondering why the child looked as if he wanted to kill him.
He tore his eyes off the boy, his expression somewhat hesitant as he fixed on Nicola.
“I have not yet seen Lord Thorne. Do you know where I can find him?”
Nicola wasn’t sure what to say, at least in front of Tab.
She endured the same question from Kenton those weeks back and she’d physically had to show the man where Gaylord was and she didn’t want to go through that again.
The destruction of Gaylord’s tomb had been traumatizing and she was still fearful that Tab would hear whispers of what Kenton’s men had discovered.
As she tried to come up with a generic answer, Tab suddenly spoke.
“My father is dead,” the boy said without emotion.
Nicola gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment as she turned to her son. But Tab was looking seriously at Brome, who gazed back at the boy with curiosity as well as disbelief.
“Dead?” Brome repeated. Then, he looked to Nicola. “Is this true, my lady?”
Nicola heard the question but she was looking at Tab, having no idea what to say to him. Was the boy simply making excuses for his missing father? Or did he truly know the man was dead? There was only one way to find out.
“Why would you say such a thing, Tab?” she asked, great emotion in her voice. “Your father has not been at Babylon for several months, that is true, but why would you say he is dead?”
Tab looked to his mother and it seemed to Nicola that there was no innocence left in his face at all. Just as he was trying to be a man by escorting her and declaring to protect her from harm, it seemed as if Tab had done a good deal of growing in a very short amount of time as of late.
If she thought about it, hard, it all seemed to start when Kenton began spending some time around him, helping him learn to fish or otherwise paying attention to the lad.
Perhaps Kenton’s influence not only spread over her, but over her boys as well.
They knew him to be a man of his word, a man who did not beat their mother as their father had, and someone who had taken time with them.
Through the eyes of a child, Kenton was someone to be admired and emulated.
Young Tab was emulating perhaps the only hero he’d ever known as her little boy tried to become a man.
“Because he is,” Tab said to his mother, without any hint of distress. “I know that Papa is buried in the chapel.”
His words were like an arrow to Nicola’s heart.
She completely ignored Brome as she knelt beside her son, grasping the boy by the arms. Her touch was gentle but unmistakably supportive as she tried to determine just how much he knew and what, in fact, she should say to him.
Gazing into his green eyes, she didn’t see much point in continuing the lie.
He knew.
“How do you know?” she asked softly. “I never told you.”
Tab wasn’t clear what had his mother so upset.
“Papa was very sick and suddenly he was gone,” he said.
“I heard some of Kenton’s knights say they found him in the chapel but I did not say anything because I did not want Teague or Tiernan to know.
They still think he is off fighting wars.
I know you do not want them to be afraid that Papa is not coming home so we should not tell them until they are older. ”
Tears filled Nicola’s eyes at her son being so noble and strong for the sake of his younger brothers, keeping a secret he did not have to keep.
It was all so very brave of him. But beneath that bravery, it began to occur to her that Tab didn’t seem to know how his father died, a result of the wound that Tab himself had inflicted.
He had mentioned his father being ill so he knew that much, but it was evident he didn’t know why his father had taken ill.
Therefore, she didn’t venture on to that subject.
It was best not to. Even if Tab knew his father was dead, Nicola would take the reasons behind it to her grave.
“I am sorry I did not tell you myself,” she said softly. “I did not want to upset you. I planned on telling you and your brothers when you were a bit older and could understand.”
Tab pondered his mother’s words. After a moment, he shrugged his slender shoulders. “It does not matter,” he said. “Papa wasn’t a nice man sometimes. He hurt you. I stopped him from hurting you the last time.”
Nicola grunted softly, embarrassed that a strange knight was hearing her deepest family secrets. “Aye… you did, Tab,” she insisted weakly. “But that is all over now. We do not have to worry over that any longer.”
Tab watched his mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes. He didn’t like to see her upset but when the subject was his father, she was always upset. He frowned.
“It was better when Sir Kenton was here,” he said. “You didn’t cry at all. When I get bigger, I am not going to fight for Edward like my father did. I am going to fight for Henry with Sir Kenton!”
Nicola gasped, standing up quickly and putting herself between her son and Brome.
“Tab!” she gasped, trying to push her rebellious son behind her, out of the man’s wrath.
She gazed up at the knight, fear in her eyes.
“He… is young and weary of war, my lord. We have seen much of it over the past few weeks. This is our third siege in such time and I am afraid it has worn on him, as it has worn on all of us. Forgive him.”
Brome was fighting off a grin at the very bold Tab Thorne.
He’d actually learned a great deal over the past few moments listening to Tab speak of his father and of Sir Kenton.
It was clear that the boy had no real love for his father, but he clearly had some manner of feeling for Kenton le Bec.
He found that rather odd that a child should speak fondly of an enemy soldier but, then again, he had no way of knowing what had gone on with le Bec’s occupation of Babylon.
There could be much more to the story than he was being told.
“He’s an admirer of le Bec, is he?” Brome said after a moment.
“I cannot blame him. There is much to be admired with le Bec from a military standpoint. But I must say that, knowing that your husband is dead, it must have been very difficult for you with knights like le Bec holding Babylon. Were you treated fairly, my lady?”
Nicola nodded without hesitation. “Very fairly,” she replied. “Sir Kenton and his men were kind to us.”
Brome bobbed his head as if relieved. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “You were very brave to send the missive to me at Conisbrough, my lady. You risked much.”
I risked my very soul, Nicola thought gloomily. As she looked into Brome’s features, she was suddenly very desperate for news of Kenton; she had to know the depths of horror she had brought down upon Kenton and his men. St. John would be the man to ask.
“Did you capture Sir Kenton, then?” she asked, trying not to sound too curious or eager or desperate. “I told you he was going to Manchester. Did you find him?”
Brome nodded. “I received word from Manchester this morning,” he said. “I am told that le Bec’s army has been routed. It is a complete victory for Edward and you are to thank, my lady. Without you, we could not have defeated le Bec. We owe you much.”
Nicola felt as if she’d been hit in the stomach. “A… a complete victory?” she stammered. “Are… are you sure? Le Bec has been defeated?”
Brome continued to nod. “That is what I have been told,” he said.
“You see, my lady, when you sent your missive to Conisbrough, it was full of men who had just come from one of the recent sieges of Babylon. I had at least two thousand men at Conisbrough and when we received your missive, we were able to use the information to plan the defeat of Warwick, and le Bec, once and for all in this area. I sent the majority of the troops to Manchester to fight le Bec’s army while a small contingent of men took Babylon back from within.
You were instrumental in that, my lady. I was there when you opened the postern gate for us last night.
As I said, we have much to thank you for.
We could not have been victorious without you. ”
Nicola stared at the man, thinking she had never felt less heroic in her life. Her loyalties and emotions were all mashed up, twisted, only to be spit out in ways she couldn’t clearly decipher. All she knew was that she had made a massive mistake. That was becoming abundantly clear.
She wondered if it was a mistake she could right.
“Did you capture le Bec?” she asked again because it seemed as if he had not answered that particular question.
Brome politely moved her and Tab aside as men bearing great planks of wood moved to repair the unhinged gate. “I have not received word of that,” he said. “But we do have many prisoners. It is possible he is among that group.”
Nicola didn’t know if she felt better or worse by that statement. Was it possible that Kenton got away? “If you have him, what will you do with him?” she asked.
Brome shrugged. “Take him back to Conisbrough, I am sure,” he said. “After that, I will send him to Edward. The king will be thrilled to have such a prize as Kenton le Bec.”
Nicola was feeling increasingly sick at the prospect, the realization that Kenton, if a prisoner, would be sent to Edward as some great, triumphant prize.
A seasoned knight, who was born and bred for battle, reduced to a trophy.
A pawn in the game between Henry and Edward.
God, she felt so ill at the mere thought.
But something more filled her thoughts. If Kenton was sent to Edward, it was quite possible she would never see him again.
He would be taken away and locked up forever.
She could not live with herself if she didn’t see him one last time, to confess her sins and explain why she had committed them, and ask for an explanation of his terrible words, the ones that had driven her over the brink of sorrow and paranoia.
It was too late for apologies and she knew it.
Perhaps it was too late for anything and perhaps Kenton wouldn’t care about her feelings or her motives.
But for her own peace of mind, she had to clear her conscience.
She had to see the man one last time, the man who had made her feel things she never imagined she was capable of feeling.
But he was the enemy and he had been intent on using her; those were the facts as she knew them. But perhaps they weren’t facts at all.
Perhaps she had been the real enemy all along.
It was she, after all, who had done the betraying.
“I see,” she murmured after a moment. “But you will take him to Conisbrough first?”
“I will.”
“Then you will do me a favor,” Nicola said. “There is much I wish to say to Kenton le Bec now that he will be a prisoner of Edward. The man spent two weeks at Babylon and in that time… well, it does not matter. I have a few things to say to him. It is my right, as his former captive.”
Brome appeared doubtful. “My lady, I….”
“It is my right,” Nicola insisted again, louder. She was growing agitated. “He smashed my husband’s tomb and stole from us. It is my right to have a few final words with him before you take him away forever. I demand it.”
Brome wouldn’t argue with her. It was evident that seeing le Bec meant a good deal to her.
Perhaps she wanted to spit in his face, which he really couldn’t blame her for.
She had spent days, weeks, with the man, under submission.
He could understand her need to tell him exactly what she thought of him and the damage he’d done.
“Very well,” Brome sighed. “If it is your wish, I will make it so.”
Nicola struggled to calm her agitation, pleased that he had given in to her request. As if he’d had a choice. “My thanks,” she said, putting her hand on Tab’s shoulder with the intention of leading him away. But she paused. “What of the le Bec knight who was in charge of Babylon? Where is he?”
Brome tilted his head in the direction of the gatehouse structure that contained the vaults. “He is locked away,” he said. “I am not entirely sure of his health because my men beat him soundly, but he is still alive.”
Nicola struggled to keep the great concern off her features. “I would see that one, too,” she said, trying to sound angry. “I have a few things to say to him as well.”
Brome complied, mostly because he didn’t want a scene with Lady Thorne.
The woman was determined to speak with the knights who had held her and her family hostage and he would not stand in the way.
There was certainly some sense of vengeance there against her former captors.
Without another word, he motioned her to following him to the vaults, and that’s exactly what Nicola did.
Down into the moldering, dank depths of Babylon’s horrid vaults.