Chapter Eleven
Gart caught a glimpse of Emberley disappearing into the enormous keep as his men described the rider that had been sighted a mile from Dunster.
But he shifted his focus from Emberley to the approaching rider, curious and nothing more.
A lone rider was not much of a threat so he climbed down off the wall and went to the gatehouse.
He ordered his men to lower the portcullis to half-staff, which would discourage the rider from charging into the bailey yet not give off a completely unfriendly appearance from Dunster. It was a precautionary measure.
Gart stood back in the shadows because if the rider was someone familiar to Julian, he didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t supposed to be here. Crossing his big arms, he waited expectantly for the mysterious rider to appear.
The man wasn’t long in showing himself. Hooves pounded and mail armor creaked as the rider slowed, approaching the gatehouse. A big, brown charger with hairy white feet came into view and Gart recognized the horse immediately. He’d seen that snappish beast before.
“Open the portcullis,” he commanded, moving forward as the horse slowed and began to move through the low-ceilinged gatehouse. “If he makes a wrong move, use him for target practice.”
The knight on horseback heard him, grinning as he raised his visor. Gart met him halfway through the cool passage of the gatehouse, a smirk on his lips.
“And so you have found me,” he said. “Even at the ends of the earth, you have tracked me down.”
The knight nodded, leaning wearily against his saddle. “De Lohr said you might be here,” he replied, his blue eyes twinkling. “I must say, I am rather surprised.”
“Why?”
“Because you are not usually one to keep yourself in the wilds and out of the action.”
Gart wriggled his eyebrows. “Did you come to tell me about the action I am missing?”
The knight shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But I do bring a message for you.”
Some of Gart’s humor left him. He motioned the knight forward, following him as he brought his charger into the bailey and laboriously dismounted.
The animal was sweaty and foaming, and the knight was nearly doing the same.
Both were exhausted. Gart noticed the sheer fatigue and it concerned him.
Why was the man so strung out from his ride?
What was so important that he was forced to ride so hard?
He faced the man with more composure than he felt.
“How long have you been in the saddle?” he asked, making small talk as the weary knight removed his helm.
“Do you mean to ask if I have slept over the past week?” the knight’s dark eyebrows lifted with some irony. “The answer is I have not. I left Bellham Place six days ago and was told to make all haste for Dunster to see if you were still here.”
Gart eyed the knight. He had known Sir Kevin de Lara for several years, a rather short knight with the strength of Samson.
He was young, very handsome, with blue eyes, a square jaw and a bright smile.
Moreover, he had a good deal of charisma and was brilliant and honest to a fault.
They had served de Lohr together for three years, having spent a full year in France on behalf of the king.
They had seen many adventures, and many battles, together.
Consequently, Gart respected and trusted the man more than most. He considered him a friend.
“What is the message?” he asked with some trepidation.
Kevin looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot. He looked at Gart as he began to pull off his gauntlets. “Do you want me to tell you now or do you wish to go someplace more private?”
“Tell me now. What is the message?”
Kevin tucked his gloves into his saddle before facing Gart. He exhaled wearily, running a hand over his face.
“De Lohr says to tell you that Buckland is sending an escort to Dunster,” he lowered his voice.
“The man wants his family with him in London. David says to tell you that if you are still here, then to get out in a hurry. Buckland’s men can’t be more than an hour or two behind me.
I had to ride like the wind to avoid them. ”
Gart stared at him. “Buckland wants his family with him in London?”
“That is my understanding.”
“Why, in God’s name?”
Kevin shook his head. “This I cannot know.” He eyed Gart, his good friend. “Do I want to know why you are here and why de Lohr has sent me with this message?”
“What did de Lohr tell you?”
“To help you if you need it.”
Gart gazed steadily at the man, finally emitting a weary sigh and turning away. He thought on the irony of Kevin’s statement. To help you if you need it. At the moment, he needed help. He’d never needed it more in his life.
“Is that all he told you?”
Kevin nodded, starting to feel great curiosity along with his fatigue. “Gart, what goes on?” he demanded softly. “Why are you here? Why was I told to make all haste to Dunster so I could warn you off of Buckland’s approach?”
Gart looked at him. “You would not believe me if I told you.”
“Tell me.”
Gart’s jaw ticked and he hung his head, running his hand across his stubbled, bald head, trying to think of a way to phrase what he had been feeling for the past seven weeks.
So much had happened. He suddenly felt like a fool because only fools got themselves into this kind of trouble.
He was about to confess his biggest weakness to a fellow knight.
But, on the other hand, he had never felt more strong or whole. It was an odd combination.
“You and I have been through much together, have we not?” he finally asked, looking up at his friend.
Kevin nodded. “I would trust my life to you a thousand times over.”
“And I to you.” Gart paused to collect his thoughts. “De Lohr and I came to Dunster two months ago because Buckland had requested de Lohr’s assistance in protecting the queen’s lands in France.”
Kevin nodded. “I know,” he replied. “We are preparing to sail in three weeks, which I am also supposed to tell you. De Lohr wants you in London as soon as possible.”
A second blow in as many minutes. Gart struggled to stay on an even keel as he took a deep breath, digesting the news. After a moment, he snorted ironically and stared up at the sky as if beseeching God for strength to do as he must.
“Buckland’s wife is the sister of Erik de Russe,” he took his eyes off the sky and looked at de Lara. “You remember de Russe, do you not?”
Kevin’s brow furrowed in distant remembrance. “Of course,” he said. “We fostered together. As I recall, you and de Russe were as thick as thieves. So his sister is married to de Moyon?”
Gart nodded. “I have known Lady Emberley since she was a young girl,” he said quietly. “I had not seen her in years until two months ago.”
Kevin’s brow furrowed, appearing quite serious. “De Moyon is the queen’s lover,” he lowered his voice. “The man is spouting it all over London.”
“I know,” Gart replied. “Which is why it makes no sense that he should want his family with him in London. Surely they will only be a burden to him and interfere with his affair with Isabella. Have you heard anything about Buckland other than what de Lohr told you?”
Kevin shook his head. “Nothing other than the fact that the man is a pompous idiot,” he said, his serious gaze moving over Gart’s tight features. “What is this all about, Gart? You still have not told me why you are here.”
Gart looked at him, feeling as if he needed to confide in the man. He’d never felt like that in his life and the walls of self-protection began to crumble.
“What I tell you must not leave your lips,” he muttered. “If it does, many people will suffer.”
Kevin grew intent. “The information will die with me, I swear it.”
“I believe you,” Gart said, taking a deep breath for courage. “I told you that I have known Buckland’s wife since she was a child.”
“You did.”
“I love her,” his voice was a whisper, full of pain. “I am here because I love the woman and she loves me. I intend to take her and the children out of this hellish place where Buckland can never find them.”
Kevin, surprisingly, didn’t react overly. He remained intent, serious. “You… you intend to abduct her?”
“I will not abduct her.”
“She is agreeable to this, then?”
“She is.”
Kevin fell silent as he processed the news. Then he said the first thing that came to mind, the obvious. “But she is married to Buckland,” he lifted an eyebrow, his reaction becoming evident. “You cannot simply take his wife.”
“I am not taking anything. We love each other and will be together.”
“But he can have you charged with thievery for stealing his family if you truly intend to do this. Stealing another man’s wife, particularly a nobleman’s wife, is very serious.”
Gart didn’t back down. “I realize that,” he said steadily.
“But he has been beating Emberley since the day they married. When I first arrived here, he beat her so badly that she could not rise from bed for two days. The man is vile and horrible and treats her no better than an animal. Do you have any idea how it feels knowing that the woman you love is married to man who brutalizes her? You cannot comprehend the fury and pain I feel every time I think about it.”
De Lara’s expression darkened. “Nay, I cannot,” he agreed. “But the fact remains that she is Buckland’s wife and….”
“She carries my child.”
So much for composure. De Lara’s eyes widened and his jaw popped open. He stared at Gart for a long, painful moment.
“Are you serious?”
“I would not lie.”
“Then if what you say about Buckland is true, he will kill her when he finds out,” Kevin hissed. “He will also kill you.”
“I know.”