Chapter Fourteen #2
A corridor led from the Flint Tower into the upper floor of the two level building.
It was dark and eerily still as he and Alys slowed their pace, traversing the black corridor by clinging to the walls.
These old corridors smelled like dust and smoke, adding to the ambience of uncertainty and fear.
Father Simon had no way of knowing who might lay in wait for them; with the chaos of the Tower at the moment, every shadow and every door could be deadly. Their pace was very slow.
They had traveled about halfway down the length of building when Father Simon saw a sliver of light coming from one of the closed doors.
Leaving Alys in the shadows, he made his way silently to the door and leaned into it, listening carefully.
All was silent for several long moments and he almost pulled his ear from the door.
But then, he thought he heard humming. It was faint, but the sound was unmistakable.
Puzzled, he continued to listen, wondering who would be shuffling about the room humming until he heard something clatter to the floor and a softly uttered curse.
The light of recognition came to Father Simon’s eyes; he knew that voice.
God be praised, he knew it. Softly, he knocked.
The humming stopped immediately and he heard more shuffling going on. Father Simon knocked again.
“Gilby?” he called softly. “Gilby, open the door. Let me in.”
Another long pause and then the door flew open. Gilby stood in the doorway but so did Guy, the knight with a broadsword in his hand. Gilby yanked the priest into the room. Alys bolted in after him and they locked the door.
Inside the room with a faint fire flickering in the hearth, the four of them faced one another with trepidation. Each was waiting for the other to say something. Finally, Gilby was the first to speak.
“What are you doing here?” he asked the priest.
“Looking for you,” Father Simon told him. “Is Lady de Lara with you?”
“She is,” Gilby nodded. “Why? Did de Lara send you?”
Father Simon wasn’t sure where to start but he had to speak and he had to do it quickly. The situation was spiraling and he felt a panicked sense of urgency.
“We must remove Lady de Lara immediately,” he said. “Something… something dreadful has happened.”
Gilby’s eyebrows rose. “What?”
Father Simon swallowed, eyeing Alys as he did so; she did not know why they had fled the chapel and he hoped she would not fly into hysterics as he told the sordid tale.
“De Lara was ambushed by the White Tower,” he lowered his voice. “I saw it with my own eyes. It will only be a matter of time before the king comes looking for Lady de Lara. We must remove her immediately.”
Gilby didn’t change expressions but Alys grabbed the priest by the arm; she had a wild look to her eye. “He was ambushed?” she screeched.
Father Simon pried her fingers off his flesh. “He was set upon by dozens of the king’s soldiers,” he said. “Even a warrior as strong as de Lara would have difficulty surviving such a thing. I can only assume that… that he is….”
“Did you see him fall?” Guy entered the conversation, sounding stronger than he looked. His dark eyes glittered in his pale face. “Did you see his death?”
Father Simon shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But there were dozens of soldiers, my lord. There is no way for him to survive such a thing.”
“I would not be too sure,” Guy replied. “You speak of the Shadow Lord, after all. If anyone could survive such a thing, he could.”
“I did not wait around to find out,” the priest lifted an eyebrow. “I came to take Lady de Lara from this place. She cannot remain.”
“Why not?” a very weary, very intense female voice came from the doorway leading to the bower; with all of their chattering they had awoken the sleeping patient.
Sheridan stood there in her blood stained dress, looking pale and exhausted.
“Moreover, I am not leaving without my husband. Where is he?”
The four of them stared at her, unsure how to tell her what had just been reported. They felt guilty that they had been caught in conversation, guilty that they did not want to tell her the truth. But she had overheard some of it. They had to tell her the rest. Alys finally broke the silence.
“He has been ambushed, Dani,” she tried to be gentle. “We must leave this place before they get you, too.”
“Ambushed?” Sheridan gasped, taking halting steps into the room and trying to shake off Gilby’s sleeping potion. “Who has told you this?”
“I did, my lady,” Father Simon was trying to be gentle, but in truth, he was heartbroken.
He knew what Sean and Sheridan meant to each other.
He had seen their expressions of love at the marriage earlier that evening.
“He was ambushed by the White Tower several minutes ago. I came to find you so that we could leave immediately for your safety.”
Sheridan’s eyes were wide but, to her credit, she did not dissolve into tears. She simply looked shocked.
“Is he dead?” she asked, her tone dull.
Father Simon shook his head. “I did not see him fall. I came to find you. It is what Sean would want.”
Sheridan’s breathing grew faster. She simply stared at the priest in disbelief.
Then, quite calmly, she turned to Guy and pulled the broadsword out of his hand, an old thing that had been left in the room by some previous visitor who had probably grown tired of it.
It was a pathetic weapon, old and dented, but a weapon nonetheless. She wielded it with both hands.
“I am going to find him,” she said steadily. “He needs help.”
Guy grabbed her before she could move away. “You cannot go,” he told her. “The priest said dozens of men set upon him. If you walk into their midst, they will take you straight to the king.”
She yanked herself from his grip, taking a swing at him when he grabbed her more firmly the second time. She was beginning to lose her composure.
“He needs help,” Sheridan repeated loudly. “I must help my husband. I must go to him.”
Guy had a good grip on her but he could see she was growing hysterical.
“Sheridan, think about what you are doing,” he wrestled with her to the point of pinning her against the wall.
Her eyes were wild with fright as he gazed steadily at her.
“Listen to me; this is a battle you cannot win. You will end up dead or worse. Do you think that will save Sean? Do you think it is what he would want?”
She lost the battle against her fear and began to crumble. She tried to chop at him with the broadsword but he took it away from her easily. “I cannot lose him,” she wept. “I must go to him and I will kill you if you try to stop me, do you hear? I will kill you.”
Guy had the sword, gazing into her lovely face and feeling her pain.
Part of him was jealous that she was so passionate about another man when he himself still wanted her so badly.
But most of him felt a good deal of pity.
He let go of her and shifted the sword to his left hand, opposite his broken collar bone.
“Then I will go to him and see if I can be of assistance,” he told her quietly. “You go with the priest. Let him take you from this place.”
“You cannot go,” she sobbed. “You are injured.”
He lifted his eyebrows in agreement; still badly injured, he was at least able to move about better than he had been earlier. “Maybe so, but I am still stronger than you are.”
Tears coursed down her face as she gazed back at him, realizing that he was serious. With all the man had been through over the past few days, he was deadly serious about aiding Sean. It was difficult to believe.
“You would do this for him?” she asked with incredulity.
“I would do it for you.” He stared at her intently for a moment before lowering his gaze, patting her on the arm as he did so. “Go with the priest, I say. I will do what I can for de Lara.”
Sheridan sniffled, wiping at her cheeks as Guy moved towards the door.
She could hardly believe he would aid Sean, but she was nonetheless deeply thankful.
Guy de Braose had proven himself more of a man than most and her respect for him grew a little bit more.
She wasn’t sure how she could ever repay him for such loyalty.
But she was no fool; she knew he did it because of his feelings for her.
It wasn’t out of some misplaced desire for heroism.
But she was selfish in that she didn’t care what his reasons were, so long as he went.
“Thank you, Guy,” she went to him before he quit the room and very gently kissed him on the cheek. “For your loyalty and your chivalry, I will always be in your debt.”
Guy glanced at her but it was too much for him to take; he was in love with the woman. He knew it. He realized he would have done anything for her to keep her happy, even defend the man who stole her away.
“Go with the priest,” he insisted weakly.
Gilby suddenly provided a distraction from their awkward parting as he picked up his medicament bag.
“I will go with you, young de Braose,” he said firmly. “Sean may need my help as well.”
Guy looked dubious. “A battle is no place for you.”
Gilby gave him a shove towards the door. “Nor you. Get going.”
There was no point in arguing. The door shut behind them and Sheridan stood there, staring at the door and wondering if Guy would survive. She wondered if he would be in time to help Sean. The tears came again and she rested her forehead against the door, fears and prayers filling her heart.