Chapter Seven #2
Markus turned away so that Alfie couldn’t hear him. “Atlas is sending Shand away,” he muttered. “The lad doesn’t want Bexwell here and I don’t blame him. He’s been positioning to take over Trastamara.”
Cassius frowned. “Who told you that?”
“He asked Lady de Sauque to marry him so he could act as Atlas’ regent.”
Cassius wasn’t stupid. He could put the pieces of the puzzle together, too. “I see,” he said. “So it is as we suspected. The man’s ambition is showing.”
“It certainly is.”
“Then you had better get into the solar if that is what they are about to do. They may need your strength to physically remove Bexwell if he does not move under his own free will.”
Markus suspected as much, though he hoped that was not to be the case. “And you,” he said. “You are fully armed, so come with me. It may take both of us if Bexwell does not give up without a fight.”
Cassius was up for the challenge. Leaving Alfie and his horse guard in the kitchen yard, Markus and Cassius headed for the keep.
They made an imposing pair as they crossed the bailey, drawing looks from some of the Trastamara soldiers.
They’d already seen the Earl of Berwick heading for the keep along with Shand, who was their commander.
But word had spread among the men that Atlas de Sauque had also arrived, and he was now their liege.
It was an unsettling time for the men of Trastamara.
But Markus and Cassius ignored the looks of curiosity and concern.
They had a job to do and they were running by the time they hit the stairs to the keep, rushing up the steps and into the cool, dark entry.
The door to the solar was partially open and they slowed their pace as Markus opened the door, admitting Cassius first before following.
They walked into a standoff.
Shand was over against the wall, eyeing Atlas with a baleful expression. Patrick was standing near the door, as was Hermes, and Patrick held up a hand to Markus and Cassius, indicating to them to be still and silent.
The knights immediately complied.
Over against the wall, Shand glanced at the two latest arrivals to the solar.
“So you send for de Wolfe’s sons because you think I will not obey your command?
” he said, his attention back on Atlas. “Why did you not simply speak with me about this, Atlas? Why do you need to send me away? You need me, much as your father needed me. I know Trastamara better than you could ever hope to. I will be invaluable to you, as the new lord.”
He sounded as if he were pleading, but Atlas stood his ground.
“Shand, I will explain my position to you so there is no question as to why I have ordered you away,” he said.
“My father was poison. He infected everything at Trastamara that he touched. He only married my mother to gain her family fortress and when my grandfather died, he seized everything and treated my mother no better than a servant. She was a prisoner here and you know this. Worse still, my father’s poison touched you, Shand.
You have been enforcing my father’s immoral and apathetic commands since the beginning and I do not want you here.
You are as shallow as he ever was, but I am learning something about you.
You have ambition. You gave that away when you asked for my mother’s hand. ”
Shand’s eyes flickered, but only for a moment. He was adept at concealing his surprise that Atlas had been told of his offer to Lady de Sauque when the truth was that he shouldn’t have been surprised at all.
He should have expected it.
“It was what your father wanted,” he said evenly. “You have only seen seventeen years. He knew that you needed a seasoned man to help you govern and as your mother’s husband, I would have more freedom to do that.”
Atlas could read him beneath the surface. He could see the man who wanted everything he had.
“You would also have the power of Trastamara in your hands and I do not intend to fight you for my inheritance,” he said.
“Regardless of if it was my father’s wish for you to marry my mother, it is not my wish.
Better to send you away than have a dagger shoved into my back at some point.
I will send you with enough money to take you wherever you wish to go, but you will go. ”
Shand was staring Atlas down as if his glare could cause the young man to change his mind.
“This is not fair,” he finally hissed. “I have given ten years of my life to Trastamara and this is how you repay me?”
Atlas, surprisingly, remained calm, impressive for so young a man. He could have easily become emotional and angry, but the words from his master, Tobias, had taken root.
Emotion will get you killed, lad.
It was a lesson Atlas had taken to heart, or at least tried to.
“You have been paid many times over, I am sure,” he said. “You have had fine weapons, a roof over your head, food to eat, and I would suspect a good horse. Did you purchase any of these things yourself?”
The tic in Shand’s jaw began to grow worse. “Your father wanted me to have the best equipment money could buy,” he said. “I am his captain. My weapons, my dress, directly reflect upon him.”
“Then he bought it for you.”
Shand hesitated before spitting out the words. “As my liege, that was his obligation.”
Atlas studied the man. He took a good, hard look at him before taking a step in his direction. “Show me your sword.”
Shand had the scabbard of his broadsword strapped to his waist and thigh. He unsheathed the weapon but as he did so, both Markus and Cassius unsheathed theirs. They moved towards Shand, the message obvious.
Move against Atlas and you will die.
Shand saw the knights advancing on him and he slowed his movements. His focus was fixed on Markus.
“He asked to see my sword,” he said, almost belligerently. “I must be permitted to unsheathe it.”
Markus didn’t say a word, but he came to stand next to Atlas. Cassius stood on the other side, his sword in a position that could easily slice into Shand should he bring up his hand.
Frustrated, and clearly fighting a losing battle, Shand finished unsheathing his sword carefully and gripped it so the hilt was in Atlas’ direction. The young man took the sword from him, inspecting it.
“This is very fine,” he said. “Where did you get it?”
“From a sword maker in Madrid.”
“Spanish?”
“They make some of the finest weapons.”
“And my father purchased this for you?”
Shand sighed heavily. “He commissioned it.”
“Give me a straight answer. Did he pay for this?”
“He did.”
“Then I shall keep it.”
Atlas handed it over to Markus, who took it without hesitation and then extended it to Hermes, who came forward to collect it. Shand watched his beautiful Spanish sword slip from his grasp, unable to do anything about it.
Atlas, however, had no qualms about what he had just done.
At least, not on the outside. With Markus and Cassius standing on either side of him, he was very brave.
He proceeded to frisk Shand for anything else of value that his father might have purchased for him, coming across two very fine daggers.
He handed those over to Markus as well, but he left Shand his coin purse, belt, and shoes. Then, he stood back.
“You are to proceed to your chamber and collect your possessions,” he said.
“You will only collect what you brought with you to Trastamara ten years ago and no more. You will leave your Trastamara tunics behind as well as anything else that identifies Trastamara – mail, helm, protection. Leave it. Then, you will come to the stables. I will meet you there with money for your journey.”
There was nothing Shand could say at that point.
He was outnumbered and without a weapon, so any show of rebellion or anger would not be well met.
He simply couldn’t believe that ten years of his life had come to this moment, wasted as if it had been dust upon the wind.
He could see those years blowing away before his very eyes, vanishing into memory, and it cut him to the bone.
Everything he had worked for was gone.
Taken from him by the son of the man he’d been so loyal to.
God, but hatred was blooming in his heart. Hatred and vengeance. It simply wasn’t fair, any of it, but if he fought back now, they would kill him. Perhaps that’s what they wanted to do. Maybe they were hoping he would resist.
But he wasn’t going to. At least, not now.
But the time would come.
With a heavy sigh, Shand pushed past Markus and headed towards the chamber door.
“Go with him,” Markus muttered to Cassius. “Hermes, you also.”
Hermes handed over the confiscated weapons to Patrick as he followed Cassius and Shand out of the chamber. When they were gone, it was only Patrick, Markus, and Atlas left in the room. Atlas turned to Patrick.
“Was I fair enough, my lord?” he asked.
In that moment, his youth became evident. So did his nervousness in a situation he’d faced bravely. Covering those nerves had been impressive, but in that question, he sounded like a boy looking for approval.
Patrick nodded.
“Indeed, you were,” he said. “I thought you handled the situation well.”
Atlas seemed relieved by that, but he didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the situation as a whole. He turned away, wandering over to the windows that overlooked the bailey.
“I intend to take his warhorse, too,” he said. “I am sure my father purchased the animal for him as well, wanting his captain to have a fine steed. I will give him another horse to ride.”
“I approve of your decision.”
Atlas was silent a moment. “Thank you,” he said.
“But I have a feeling that he will not leave easily. Trastamara was his home for ten years. Looking into his eyes, I can see how badly he wants it. It is as if he feels… he feels that he is deserving of it. That it belongs to him. He resents me greatly.”
Patrick came away from the wall, heading in Atlas’ direction. “Then he is delusional,” he said. “Any knight worth his oath would never look at his liege’s property as his own. But I would not worry about him if I were you.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am. We will escort him far away so he cannot trouble you.”
Atlas nodded, but he still didn’t seem very relieved. “Thank you, my lord.”
Patrick’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, hearing his doubt. He turned to Markus.
“Send word to Questing and the other de Wolfe properties that if Bexwell shows up looking for a position, they are to turn the man away,” he said.
“We do not need that man’s venom infecting our ranks.
They will not know what has transpired here at Trastamara and will view him as an ally. We cannot take that chance.”
Markus nodded. “I’ll do it right away,” he said. “Anything else?”
“Have four of our soldiers escort him away from Trastamara,” he said. “Whatever direction he chooses to go is fine, but tell the men to make sure he is far away. At least a two days’ ride away.”
“It shall be done.”
Before Markus could leave, Atlas stopped him.
“Can you please ask my mother where my father kept his coinage?” he said. “I have promised Shand money and I do not know where my father kept it.”
Markus frowned. “That is a question you should ask her.”
Atlas nodded, but there was uncertainty to his movements. “I will admit my encounter with Shand has me questioning… things. I do not wish to explain myself to my mother right now, not until I get a few things straight in my own mind.”
“Like what?”
“That I did not let my anger make my decisions for me. I tried not to, you know.”
Markus gave him a reassuring smile. “You did fine.”
Atlas needed the reassurance. He’d just dismissed a man with maturity beyond his years, which had left him questioning himself.
He very much wanted to do the right thing.
Quitting the chamber, Markus left his father to counsel the young lord who was trying very hard to make just and lordly decisions.