Chapter Twelve #2
Gallus slapped him on the shoulder. “And we may yet have to kill them all,” he said.
“But only if we have no other choice. For now, let us muster the knights and a party of thirty soldiers and ride out to intercept the de Lara party. Ty, summon the knights over. We will tell them what we are about to do.”
Tiberius produced a low whistle, catching the attention of the knights standing around the table where Ellice was drinking the last of her warmed wine. The men gravitated over to the de Shera brothers, expectant of the orders that were about to come forth. Gallus didn’t keep them waiting.
“We are going to intercept the de Lara escort,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Scott and Troy, you will muster the soldiers. Make sure they are mounted and well-armed. Treat this incursion as you would a battle. Stefan, we will travel light, meaning no provisions wagon. You will ensure that every man has rations and also ensure that every horse is sound. If the beast is not, then this weather will surely ruin him and weaken our war party. Garran, I am sorry to say that I will have you stay with my wife while we are gone. She needs at least one competent knight and you would honor me by remaining with her. Are there any questions so far?”
The knights shook their heads and Gallus dismissed them. He was turning back for Max and Tiberius when he realized that Garran was still standing beside him.
“Do you have an issue, de Moray?” he asked, thinking that Garran was going to argue about being left behind with Jeniver. “State it.”
Garran’s gaze was somewhat uncomfortable as he looked at Gallus.
He had been uncomfortable all day, ever since seeing his father, and the discomfort had only grown worse.
He’d spent most of the day at the inn, as he was there to protect Lady de Shera while her husband had dealings with Kellen de Lara, and he’d therefore had a good deal of time to think on what his father had asked of him.
He eventually came to the only conclusion he could come to and it was time to let the de Shera brothers know.
Perhaps this wasn’t the best time, but it might be his only opportunity. He cleared his throat softly.
“My lord,” he said to Gallus. “I must speak with you, but not about anything involving your wife. I am always agreeable to protecting Lady de Shera. I must speak with you about something different.”
Gallus glanced at Maximus and Tiberius. Maximus had impatience on his features but Tiberius appeared rather suspicious. Wary, even. It was an odd expression but one that Gallus didn’t give much note to. He tried not to appear impatient, too.
“Must we discuss it now?” he asked Garran.
The man nodded. “We must, my lord,” he replied. “It is important. I will only take a moment.”
Gallus lifted his shoulders. “Very well,” he said. “State your business and be quick about it. We must mobilize.”
Garran knew that. He found that he was nervous to speak with de Shera. He hoped the man would understand his decision, as heartbreaking as it was. He took a deep breath.
“My father is in town,” he said, looking to Tiberius.
“He came yesterday and paid a visit to the inn when we were away. Tiberius was here, however, and he and Tiberius spoke. I went to see my father at his lodgings on the south side of town to find out why he was in town. I had no knowledge of him visiting Oxford. I am sure you all know that my father is a staunch supporter of Henry but I do not believe you know why. When he was younger, the king saved his life and he has, therefore, always felt a life debt to him. That is why he cannot side with de Montfort. In any case, it would seem that the king has summoned my father to London and has asked him to sit upon his council. I know you were afraid that the king’s council would be full of Poitevins, but it would seem that my father will be among them.
My father… he understands that I do not agree with the king or his policies, but my father has come to ask for my support, as his son. ”
Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius were listening intently. “So that is what your father came to Oxford for,” Tiberius said. “You did not give me a direct answer when I asked you. Now, I know why.”
Garran nodded, looking somewhat sad and disappointed.
“Henry has asked not only for my father’s counsel, but for his sword,” he said quietly.
“My father has agreed. At some point, we will be facing Henry in battle and, consequently, my father. I hope you understand when I say that I will not fight my father on the field of battle. I would never lift a sword to him, ever, no matter what I believe. I must therefore ask you to release me from my oath of fealty, Lord de Shera, because I have made the decision to support and, if necessary, fight alongside, my father.”
Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius were stunned to varying degrees, but each brother understood, implicitly, what Garran was saying. They would not have expected him to fight against his father. Gallus put a hand on the young knight’s shoulder.
“You are certain of this?” he asked softly.
Garran nodded with remorse. “I am, my lord.”
Gallus thought on his reply a moment. “Your father is a legend,” he said. “He is a fine and honorable knight. Although I am deeply saddened to lose your sword, I understand completely. I could not fight against my father, either.”
It was a sorrowful moment for them all, especially for Tiberius. Garran was his good friend.
“When will you go?” Tiberius asked softly.
Garran looked at his friend, his liege, with great sadness.
“I will go to him as soon as you return from intercepting de Lara’s escort,” he said.
“I will not leave Lady de Shera unattended. Please… please know this was not an easy decision for me. It is mayhap the hardest choice I have ever had to make, but in this instance, understand that my choice is not in favor of Henry – it is in favor of my father. It will always be my father.”
Gallus patted him on the shoulder again. “I know,” he comforted. “As it should be. Godspeed and fair winds, Garran. May we never meet up in battle, my friend, but if we do, then I pray we both survive it.”
There wasn’t much more to say, from any of them.
Garran forced a smile, silently thanking Gallus and his brothers for their friendship and trust, before turning away and heading back over to the table where Ellice was still sitting, now on her second cup of warmed wine.
The knight sat down at the end of the table and simply hung his head.
It was a desolate moment. Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius watched Garran as he slumped at the table, shocked and saddened by the turn of events.
But they couldn’t linger over them. They had a more pressing engagement looming and they would need all of their focus for what was to come.
They could fully worry about the loss of a knight, and good friend, at another time. But now was not the time.
Eventually, Gallus turned away to prepare himself, followed by Maximus.
As they went about their business, Tiberius remained where they had left him, his gaze lingering on Garran and feeling a distinct sense of loss.
He wasn’t entirely sure he could face the man in battle, either.
He knew he couldn’t strike him down. But family loyalty superseded friendship. He understood that well.
With a heavy heart, he followed his brothers as they prepared to intercept de Lara’s escort and regain Lady Courtly.
*
Just before noon on the following day, outside of the sleepy village of Begbroke, north of Oxford, the de Shera army was waiting.
The rain had stopped for the most part, revealing clear skies above, but the ground was still soaked and muddy, making traveling difficult. Roads were impassable in some spots and farmers with wagons, trying to get to town, had been thwarted by the holes and puddles.
The de Lara party was heavily armed as they moved along the sludge-filled road.
Courtly and Isadora were both astride the small gray palfrey, bundled up with a coverlet stolen off of a bed from Kennington, as they made their way very slowly along the muddy road.
St. Héver was at point, leading the party along beneath cold, blue skies and as they passed on the outskirts of Begbroke they eventually entered a wooded area where the road was surprisingly better.
The canopy of trees had protected the road from the driving rains somewhat.
As the exhausted women plodded along the dark-mudded road, the trees around them suddenly came alive.
Men were pouring out of the woods, men with weapons, from both sides of the road.
There were dozens of them, certainly more than the twenty men that surrounded Courtly and Isadora, and when the harrowing cry of men went up as they burst from the trees, the little, gray palfrey bolted, dumping both Courtly and Isadora onto the wet, soft earth.
As Courtly leapt to her feet and pulled Isadora up beside her, St. Héver bellowed commands for his men to surround the women and made his way back to them to protect them.
But he was a lone knight with only twenty men-at-arms as six very big knights on very big horses came bursting out of the trees, heading directly for them.
St. Héver was no fool. He saw the fine weaponry and the seasoned horses, especially a distinctive black and white jennet.
He’d seen that horse before, most recently at Kennington House, so he knew who the men were.
He ordered his soldiers to drop their weapons and surrender on the spot because there was no use in fighting the Lords of Thunder. He gave up without a struggle.
Without a fight to be had, the de Shera men came to an uncertain halt, surrounding the de Lara party as the six massive knights rode up. Maximus, leading the charge, flipped up his visor and fixed on St. Héver.