Chapter Fourteen #3
Maximus didn’t like the thought of leaving Courtly and Jeniver minimally protected, but he understood. They were heading into battle and needed every available man.
“How many men will you leave with them?” he asked.
“Four.”
Maximus winced. “Just four?”
“Do you have any better ideas about it?”
Maximus didn’t. Even leaving four behind out of the fifty they had was not a particularly desirable prospect but there was little choice.
He finally shook his head and broke away from the gathering with de Montfort’s soldier and headed up the stairs to see to his wife.
He had a good deal of preparations to make before departing and he had little time to do it, but until he bid his wife farewell, he couldn’t think of anything else. He had to see her.
A separation to go to London with a non-military purpose had been bad enough, but now that he knew they were heading for battle…
a battle where they were undermanned, no less…
filled him with a heavy heart. He didn’t want to even think on the fact that he might not make it out alive.
He wanted to see his wife again and watch their children grow.
He wanted to live a long, full life with Courtly by his side. He’d never wanted that before.
As he reached the door to the chamber, he could already hear the women behind it, laughing. It made him smile to hear Courtly’s high-pitched giggles. Knocking softly on the door, he snorted with humor when it was swiftly opened and Jeniver stood there, a huge smile on her face.
“Isn’t it true, Max?” she demanded. “Didn’t you light your uncle’s farts on fire?”
Courtly burst out in a fit of laughter and Maximus came into the room, grinning.
“She already knows what an incorrigible child I was,” he said.
“I told her what we used to do. What I did not tell her was that the gas from his arse had saturated his breeches so the fire spread quickly and burned the hair all up his back. My mother was so angry that she took a switch to us. I think I still have the scars.”
Jeniver and Courtly were beset with laughter as Maximus stood there and smiled at them.
“That was the same uncle who would defecate in the bailey and then blame it on the dogs,” he said.
“He would make sure to do it when he knew my father would be passing along that particular path so that the man would step in it.”
The women were far gone with laughter at this point. Jeniver finally put up a hand. “That is utterly disgusting, Max,” she pretended to scold, snorting. “And you would say it in front of your new wife? I am shocked.”
Maximus was making his way over to Courtly, who was gazing at him quite adoringly. He couldn’t help but return the expression. “It is too late for her to get away from me,” he said, his eyes devouring the woman. “I can say what I wish now.”
Jeniver shook her head reproachfully but the truth was that she was watching the besotted expressions of both Maximus and Courtly. It was very sweet.
“I will tell you a secret,” Jeniver said. “I do not think she wants to get away from you.”
Maximus glanced at his sister-in-law, grinning, but his attention returned to his wife. In fact, he couldn’t stop staring at her.
“I am glad,” he said. Then, he sobered somewhat. “Speaking of getting away from me, I’ve come to inform you both that you will be staying here for the time being. You will not be going to Isenhall right away.”
The women sobered quickly as well. “Why not?” Courtly asked. “Has something happened?”
Maximus shrugged, reaching out to take her hand. Courtly clung to him, gazing up into his handsome face and noting that he looked rather serious.
“We have received word that Warborough Castle is under attack from Henry’s forces,” he said. “De Montfort has personally asked us to defend her. Therefore, we cannot spare the men to take you two back to Isenhall, so you will remain here with a small guard until we can return from Warborough.”
Courtly’s expression was full of concern. “Where is Warborough?”
He squeezed her hand. “South of Oxford and south of Kennington by several miles,” he said.
“The constable of the castle used to be Henry’s ally but it would seem he has switched allegiances and the king is not entirely happy.
De Montfort wants us to fend off the king’s attempt to reclaim the castle. ”
Across the chamber, Jeniver sighed heavily. “War,” she said simply. “You are going to war.”
Maximus tore his gaze away from Courtly long enough to look over at Jeniver. “Aye.”
Courtly felt as if she had been hit in the gut. All of the wind was sucked out of her as she realized what, exactly, Maximus was telling her. It had taken Jeniver’s softly uttered words to make her understand.
“War,” she breathed. “Oh, Max, is it true? Do you really go to do battle?”
Maximus squeezed her hand again, kissing her fingers. “It is not as bad as all that,” he said quietly. “Usually, all it takes is for Henry to merely see the de Shera banners and the man runs off. I doubt that I shall even unsheathe my sword.”
He said it simply to make her feel better.
Perhaps it was a lie, perhaps not. Perhaps his sword would be out and bloodied from the very moment they arrived.
In truth, he didn’t know, but he’d been through enough battles to know that anything involving sharp swords and archers was dangerous.
There was always a chance of him not returning and, in spite of his comforting words, Courtly must have known that as well.
She was looking up at him with fear in her eyes.
“I hope that is the case,” she said fervently. “I shall pray for your safety with every breath.”
He smiled confidently at her. “That would be appreciated,” he said. “I hope that God will hear you.”
Courtly simply nodded, releasing his hand and wrapping her arms around his trim torso, hugging him tightly.
Jeniver watched the two of them embrace and her thoughts turned to her husband.
He was going, too. She instinctively put a hand on her belly, thinking of the child she carried, a child she very much wanted to know his father.
“Max, where is Gallus?” she asked. “Is he coming to see me before he leaves?”
Maximus, with Courtly pressed against his chest, looked over at her. “Of course he is,” he said. “He is still speaking with de Montfort’s man. He will be up momentarily.”
Jeniver nodded, suddenly not feeling so happy.
She was starting to feel nauseated again but this time it was because of her husband’s imminent departure.
To war. She sat heavily on her bed, her gaze on her packed possession, thinking on her husband’s future and struggling against the dread in her heart.
“The de Shera brothers have been in a few skirmishes since I have been part of the family,” she said softly. “You have always managed to come through unscathed. I pray that continues.”
Maximus had his big hand on Courtly’s head as she laid it against his chest. “As do I.”
Jeniver glanced up at him, smiling weakly, before continuing.
“I think it is the fear of the unknown that worries women so much,” she said.
“It is the waiting and the not knowing whether or not your husband is alive or dead. I have nightmares of Gallus dying on the field of battle, alone and in pain. They haunt me.”
Maximus wasn’t so sure he wanted Courtly to hear Jeniver’s anxieties but it didn’t much matter.
He couldn’t protect her from her own fears for his safety.
It was a tale as old as time – women worry while men fight.
He could remember, as a child, having the same fear for his father when the man would charge off to war in the early days of Henry’s reign.