Chapter Two #2
Lista turned to see the captain of Felkington’s guard, Sir Amaury de Varreville.
He was a little younger than Lista’s father would have been had he still been alive, a handsome and seasoned man who had lived in Northumberland his entire life and he’d served Felkington for over half of those years.
He’d seen the de la Mere family go from a relatively normal, if not a little eccentric family, to the talk of the county because of the behavior of Lista’s mother and aunt.
But it was so much more complicated than that.
“Nay,” Lista said after a moment. “They know where they are going and they know where to return if they want an escort home. Let us go to the fish man and purchase the barrel of brined fish. Mayhap that will be our only food store purchase for the day because I have a feeling my mother will spend the rest of the money on her… comfort.”
Amaury glanced at Lista, sympathy and resignation in his expression.
Using the word “comfort” when it came to Lady Meadow’s addictions was putting it kindly.
But Amaury didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.
As he turned for the escort, he caught sight of a rather large group coming down Silver Street, heading in their direction.
“The garrison must be out on this day,” he muttered.
Lista heard him. Distracted from her mother and aunt for the moment, she turned to see what had his attention. “What garrison?” she said.
Amaury pointed down the avenue. “See the standards?”
“Aye.”
“That’s de Velt,” he said. “The red and black standards with the boar’s head. De Velt holds Berwick Castle, so the garrison is moving into town. More than likely the garrison commander with that kind of escort. See the wagon?”
Lista strained to catch a glimpse of what he was talking about.
She could see the party down the avenue, soldiers with their black and red tunics.
She could also see mounted knights, warriors of the highest order, and there were at least three that she could count, possibly more.
Felkington’s small army and single knight didn’t have nearly the clout or presence that de Velt’s army had as they entered the bustling city center.
It was crowded and people naturally moved out of their way, something they’d not done for de la Mere’s paltry escort.
De Velt was on a whole different level.
“I do not think we’ve seen the garrison come into town for quite some time,” she said. “Simon used to know the garrison commander, I think. What’s his name?”
“Cole de Velt,” Amaury said. “The eldest son of Ajax de Velt, the most feared warlord in England in his youth. I remember being terrified of that name when I was young.”
“He died a few years ago, didn’t he?”
“In battle against John,” Amaury said. “Some say that John sealed his death warrant by killing de Velt. After that, the king did not survive the year. We are told he died of dysentery, but there are rumors that it was poison in revenge for de Velt.”
“De Velt was well-liked, then?”
“Well-connected, as they say. Connected enough for his allies to kill a king.”
“And you believe it?”
“With William Marshal and Christopher de Lohr involved? I do.”
That was a rather impressive and intimidating thought. Lista lifted her hand, shielding the sun from her eyes as the de Velt escort drew closer. “My father did not speak much of him,” she said. “I know the name, of course, but not much else. Papa was not in de Velt’s social circle.”
She grinned, thinking of her father, who hadn’t been a warrior at all.
Felkington was a smaller castle in a somewhat bucolic corner of Northumberland.
Any raiding Scots seemed to avoid them, as they weren’t strategic, and any battles or political intrigue never seemed to bother them.
They lived in a safe little haven which, in Northumberland, was rare.
Lista had never experienced a battle in her life and they only kept soldiers on because of the conventional need for protection.
God only knew why Amaury remained because before he’d come to Felkington, he’d been a man of experience with the Earl of Northumberland’s army.
Lista’s father had paid him well, and he had remained after her father’s death.
“Your father may have not been in de Velt’s social circle, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t know the happenings or the political players of Northumberland,” Amaury said, cutting into her thoughts. “Your father was much more astute than you give him credit for.”
Lista looked at him, smiling. “I give him all the credit in the world,” she said. “But I wish, very much, that he were still here. He would have been able to help Mama cope with her grief from Simon’s death, but now…”
She trailed off and averted her gaze. There was no use in verbalizing what they both knew and in wishing for something that would never happen.
Lista had often wondered how her mother would have been had her father not perished before Simon had.
Certainly, no one could have predicted the spiral Meadow was experiencing, leaving a daughter to manage a prosperous castle that she’d fortunately handled well.
“Your mother will find her balance someday,” Amaury said quietly. “But you must get her away from your aunt. That woman only seeks to drive her to ruin.”
Lista knew that. Even now, she could see her aunt and mother emerging from the apothecary with small canvas bags.
She knew what that meant – more herbs and weeds and fungi to chew on, to cause them both to float away on a haze of confusion.
She was in for another week or two of wild behavior and not looking forward to it.
Feeling despair, and disgust, she was about to turn away from the sight when the de Velt party, which had been far down the road only moments before, was now at the intersection of two avenues.
And her mother and aunt were walking right into them.
Lista could hear her mother screeching at the soldiers who had pushed her aside to allow the de Velt escort to pass.
Since she knew her mother wasn’t beyond unleashing a slap or two when aroused, she began to quickly walk in that direction with Amaury on her heels.
About the time she reached the group, they had come to a halt because Meadow and Flora were in a full-blown brawl with two of the soldiers.
As Lista watched in horror, one of the soldiers shoved her mother, hard, and the woman went skidding onto her backside.
As Flora took a swing at the man, she was pushed roughly as well.
“Keep your hands off them!” Lista snarled as she put herself between the soldiers and her mother and aunt. “How dare you touch a noblewoman? Who are you? What is your name?”
The soldier wasn’t inclined to answer, but a nearby knight did. “I assure you, my lady, that he did not start the fight,” he said calmly. “These two women charged him, quite unprovoked.”
Lista was furious as she turned to the knight.
He was emerging from midway down the escort, astride the biggest horse she’d ever seen.
In fact, the knight himself was the largest man she’d ever seen.
At least, from what she could see. He was covered in well-used and expensive armor, a great helm upon his head and big weapons strapped to his body.
Weapons he was undoubtedly skilled in using.
But Lista didn’t back away.
“My mother would not have charged anyone unless she was rightfully baited,” she said. “If this is your way of defending your undisciplined men, then you should be ashamed of yourself. A well-trained man would not have shoved a woman.”
“You throw around accusations too easily without knowing the facts, my lady.”
“And you hide your failure as a commander of men by blaming innocent women.”
Suddenly, a brief encounter was becoming far more serious than it should have. The knight didn’t say anything but another knight, one with rather elaborate armor, slid off his horse and put himself between the great-helmed knight and the woman before a brawl of epic proportions developed.
The insults were flying.
“My lady, no offense was intended,” he said calmly.
“I am Cole de Velt, the commander of Berwick Castle, and I can assure you that our men are well-trained and disciplined. What happened was an unfortunate mistake and our man will be punished for it. Please do not think us all ill-bred over one small incident.”
Lista was placated somewhat, but she was still glaring daggers at the other knight. However, the commander’s apology was fair and reasonable.
She backed down a little.
“I do not think you ill-bred, my lord,” she said. “But I do not think there is any excuse for a man becoming rough with a woman, no matter what has been said.”
“You are correct, my lady.”
“And I’ll not be told that an unarmed woman was a threat to a man with weapons.”
“Again, you are correct, my lady.”
“Then someone should tell your knight not to blame women for the failure of men under his command.”
The enormous knight didn’t say anything for a moment, perhaps sizing her up behind that face plate.
Lista couldn’t see his eyes, but she could only imagine what he was thinking.
She thought perhaps she might have said too much but, on the other hand, the sight of her mother being pushed around had inflamed her.
The big knight cleared his throat quietly.
“I have introduced myself,” he said. “It would be polite for you to tell me your name, also.”
He was right, which meant she couldn’t be so self-righteous any longer. She’d had a failure in manners, too.
“I am Lady Lista de la Mere of Felkington Castle,” she said. “This is my mother, Lady Felkington, and my aunt, Lady d’Orbec. If… if they got in your man’s way, then I apologize, but it was unintentional.”