Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
There was no immediate reply, simply more birds.
The tears started to come then but Nicola fought them, taking staggering steps in the direction she had been running.
She had to make it to the army, to discover what had become of her husband, and the tears she was trying so hard to stave off began to fall as she haltingly wiped them away.
“Kenton!” she screamed one more time, her voice breaking. “Please, Kenton! Ken –!”
“Nicolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
A bellow broke through the mist, carving through it like a great broadsword, louder and sweeter than the cries of angels. Nicola gasped when she heard her name, startled to the bone, but in the same breath, she recognized the voice.
Oh, dear God… it’s him. It’s him!
“Kenton!” she screamed again.
She forced her legs to move although they were as weak as a newborn colt’s. She started to run again although it was more like shuffling, shuffling through the mist as Kenton’s voice came once more, plowing through the fog, echoing off the trees.
“Nicolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
Nicola shrieked at the second call. “I am here!” she cried. “I am here!”
Suddenly, there were men in front of her, foot soldiers looking beaten and worn, but men who grinned when they saw her running in their direction.
She was panting Kenton’s name, steady with the rhythmic falling of her feet, and suddenly more and more men were coming into view.
They were all on foot but as she traveled back through the column, she could see a wagon and a couple of horses towards the rear.
It was too misty for her to see who was on horseback so she simply called Kenton’s name again, looking for direction.
“Kenton!” she cried.
“Nicola!”
Suddenly, a man lurched out of the wagon, jumping out of it and landing heavily on the road.
The man’s right leg was heavily wrapped and it was clear that he couldn’t walk on it for he nearly fell when he jumped out of the wagon.
As Nicola ran closer, the vision of her husband’s face came into focus and at that moment, it was as if no mist or distance were between them any longer.
The sun had come out and Kenton’s face was there, stronger and more beautiful than she had ever known it to be.
He was alive!
Kenton wasn’t moving but Nicola was. She ran at the man, throwing herself at him so hard that he lost his balance and toppled over onto the road. The rear half of the column came to a halt as men rushed forward to pull Kenton and Nicola out of the mud.
But Nicola wouldn’t let go of him, not for anything.
She clung to him, weeping, even as men righted the pair, and even as he struggled to regain his balance, she continued to hold him as if fearful if she let go, he would disappear before her eyes.
But Kenton didn’t mind. He had tears in his eyes as he held her, so tightly he could hear her spine crack.
“’Tis all right, love,” he murmured. “I have returned. I told you I would, did I not?”
Nicola was so overwhelmed she couldn’t even speak.
The smell of him, the feel of him, was nearly too much to bear.
After the misery she had gone through, the grief she had experienced, to have him alive in her arms was an astonishing turn of events.
It took her several long moments before she could gather her wits.
“You did,” she sobbed, finally pulling back to look the man in the face.
He was shaggy with beard growth, and needed a haircut, but she didn’t care.
He was the most beautiful sight in the world.
She ran her hands over his face just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
“You swore to me that you would return and you have. But we heard that Warwick was killed! Is it true?”
Kenton simply stood there as the men around him began to move again, heading for that great bastion of Babylon not too far in the distance. But Kenton was solely focused on his wife.
“Aye,” he said quietly, kissing her twice, tremulously. “He is. Edward is upon the throne now and he is there to stay. But let us speak of it inside where it is warm and dry. I do not believe I have been warm or dry in over a month.”
So the news St. John bore had been correct.
Nicola pondered the confirmation of such information as she and Kenton slowly began to walk towards Babylon, following the rest of the army.
Men were pouring out of the fortress now, coming to help the others along, and there was great joy now that the remains of the army had returned.
Weeks of waiting, of speculation, and of fear, had finally come to an end as the army of Kenton le Bec returned to Babylon.
But not unscathed. Many were wounded, including Kenton. He was moving very slowly on his injured leg and Nicola couldn’t help but notice. She inspected him closely from head to toe.
“Although I am grateful you have returned, it is not without injury,” she said. “What happened?”
He was quite casual about it. “A broadsword cut me down the length of my thigh. An impressive wound if you have the stomach for it.”
He meant it as a jest but Nicola looked at him with some horror.
“I suppose I must have the stomach for it if I am to tend to it,” she said, watching him grin.
Reaching up, she touched that grinning mouth as he kissed her fingers.
“What of your knights? Where are Conor and Wellesbourne and de Russe?”
Kenton’s attempt at humor faded somewhat. “Conor was badly injured,” he said. “Matt and Gaston took him to Wellesbourne Castle to be tended, which was closer to the scene of the battle. Gerik, however, did not survive the battle.”
Nicola grunted in sorrow, thinking of the fine knights who had sustained injury and death in the midst of such a cataclysmic turning point in the history of the country. “I am so sorry to hear that,” she said. “Will Conor survive?”
Kenton nodded. “I hope so,” he said, looking up as the great gatehouse of Babylon finally came into view.
He sighed with satisfaction at the sight.
“He kept speaking of a Lady Katryne and how he wanted to recover well enough to marry her. He was speaking of St. John’s sister, you know.
He met her at Warwick’s camp when he was there.
I am not entirely sure how St. John is going to take his sister marrying one of my knights.
It would make us all family, I should think, and I am not entirely sure he wants to be related to the man who married the woman who rejected him. ”
Nicola couldn’t help but giggle. It was so good to have him returned and, already, it was as if he had never left. His humor was back, his manner calm and rational, and she was so happy that tears of joy were in her eyes.
Nicola clung to him, holding him tightly, as they approached the gatehouse, but before they could cross the threshold, Kenton suddenly came to a halt. When Nicola looked up at him, curiously, she saw that he was looking up to the great walls, studying them with satisfaction.
“What is it, my love?” she asked softly.
A smile crossed his lips as he studied the great stone fortress, now becoming increasingly visible as the mist lifted.
“I was thinking,” he said, clutching her tightly, “that I have never in my life felt as if I had a home, one place to go to above all others. I fostered at an early age and spent my adult life at several different castles, serving different lords, but I never considered any of those places my home. But now, as I look at Babylon, I feel as if I have truly come home. You are here and it was within these walls that we first met. Home is where my heart is and you are my heart. You are here. I finally feel as if I have come home.”
Nicola smiled at him, leaning up to kiss him on his stubbled cheeks. “You are home,” she murmured. “This is where you are loved most, Kenton. This is where you belong.”
He agreed completely. Carefully, they resumed their walk, allowing the great gatehouse of Babylon to swallow them up as the massive gates slowly cranked closed behind them.
Finally, they were both home, both where they belonged, inside the warm, wonderful, sometimes hectic, but always protective walls of Babylon.
Kenton, indeed, had come home.