Chapter Sixteen
“You’re up early,” Addax said, eyeing Tristan. “Why on earth would you be up this early? You just got married.”
Tristan couldn’t stop grinning. He felt like a fool, but it couldn’t be helped. “So I have,” he said. “But that does not mean the world stops because of it. Life goes on.”
It was just after dawn on a bright morning.
Addax was at the gatehouse, organizing the soldiers for the day, because de Wolfe and his two friends seemed to have disappeared.
Not only that, Dermot was gone, and Carr had given Addax an earful when he came down to the vault.
Addax knew he should have told Tristan immediately, but he was trying to give him a few more blissful hours with his new wife before the realities of command came bearing down on him.
But here he was, and Addax knew he had to tell him.
Something was afoot.
“Life does indeed go on,” he said after a moment. “More than you know. I have a report to give you that will not bring you pleasure.”
Tristan looked at him. “What is it?”
Addax grunted. “It seems that the Irish have been up to something,” he said. “I received part of the story from Carr this morning, but de Wolfe will have to give us the rest of it. Evidently, William and his two friends went down to the vault last night and tortured Dermot into a confession.”
Tristan’s eyebrows lifted. “They did?” he said, surprised. “What confession?”
“I am telling you this because you need to know,” Addax said, lowering his voice.
“Your wife needs to know. Pat, it seems that the same faction who tried to wrest her from Rockbrook is here in Wrexham, preparing to do the same thing. That cousin of Dermot’s that she was supposed to marry?
It’s none other than Gavan mac Lochlainn, the same lad they’ve tried to marry her to for years.
As it turns out, Dermot’s mother is a Lochlainn.
He’s been spying for them all along. They know she’s here because he told them. ”
Tristan’s jaw dropped. “Dermot?” he repeated, shocked. “He’s compromised her safety?”
Addax nodded. “Carr evidently had no idea he was part of the Lochlainn rebels,” he said. “He’s enraged by the entire situation.”
“But why?” Tristan said, enraged himself. “He’s the one that conspired with Dermot about the betrothal.”
“But he didn’t realize it was to a clan who has killed some of his own family.”
Tristan shook his head firmly. “It does not matter,” he said. “If he is going to conspire behind my back, he gets what he deserves. Where is he?”
“Still in the vault.”
“He is going to remain there until I decide what’s to be done with him.”
“Agreed,” Addax said. “But back to the subject of Dermot—de Wolfe and his comrades took the man into the village today because they are going on the hunt for the Irish rebels. The Aingil Lochlainn, they call themselves. Dermot said that he will recognize them on sight, so de Wolfe wants to find them.”
Tristan was still furious and shaken, but not so much that he didn’t see what de Wolfe was trying to do. “So he took the initiative,” he said. “Good lad. I would expect nothing less from him.”
“That is what I think also,” Addax said. “He’s a good lad, Pat. He just wants to help. And those friends he has… de Norville and Hage? They beat Dermot badly. Hage broke nearly every bone in the man’s right hand. I think we did right by bringing them here.”
He was grinning as he finished speaking, causing Tristan to crack a smile. “Thank God we did,” he said. “With the Welsh activity and now Irish on our doorstep, we could be in for a barrage of unholy proportions. I’m glad for the brash young knights who have a penchant for gambling.”
Addax snorted. “Agreed,” he said. “But something else, Pat… You’ve not sent word to the Marshal since the lady arrived here. I really think you need to tell him what has happened. Especially since you married. I think—”
He was cut off when the sentries on the wall began to shout, indicating that a rider was approaching.
Both Tristan and Addax made their way up to the wall, where the sentries were pointing toward the south.
They moved to a vantage point, seeing the verdant countryside and then a lone rider approaching from the south.
It took several long minutes, and the rider drawing quite close, before Tristan got a good look at him.
Then it occurred to him.
“That’s Sherry,” he said.
He was flying off the wall, with Addax right behind him.
The order to lift the portcullis went up, and both Tristan and Addax went to stand on the drawbridge, waiting as the knight, on a bay warhorse, approached.
He wore the colors of de Lohr, royal blue with the yellow lion, but to designate de Sherrington of Wigmore Castle, his garrison, the shield had a crown draped on one corner.
“Quickly!” Tristan suddenly yelled. “Hide the good wine before Sherry drinks it all!”
The soldiers standing back at the mouth of the gatehouse chuckled as Alexander lifted his visor, glaring at Tristan.
“Is this how you greet me?” he demanded. “By maligning my reputation as a drunkard and a thief?”
Tristan snorted. “You would do the same to me.”
Alexander reined his horse to a halt. “That is true,” he said. “The next time you visit Wigmore, I will make sure of it.”
Both Tristan and Addax were smiling as Alexander dismounted his steed. He extended a hand to Tristan in greeting, who took it firmly.
“Welcome,” Tristan said, looking him over. “I suppose I am glad to see you.”
Alexander cocked an eyebrow, releasing Tristan’s hand and extending it to Addax. “How do you tolerate this rude man?” he asked. “I would have thrown him in the well long ago.”
Addax laughed softly. “I would if I thought no one would notice,” he said. “What brings you to the wilds of Wrexham, Sherry?”
They began to head across the drawbridge, and Alexander handed his horse over to a hovering stable servant. “Good news, I hope,” he said. “Good enough that Chris asked me to come personally to deliver it.”
“Oh?” Tristan said. “News from de Lohr?”
Alexander shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “It is from the Marshal, but Chris has been with him for the past several months in London. I’ve been doing double duty between Lioncross and Wigmore.”
“Where is Peter?”
“At Ludlow,” he said. “Peter’s wife delivered a child about six months ago, and it was a difficult birth, so she’s not been well. She’s on the mend now, but Peter did not want to leave her to go to Lioncross or to London with his father. He has stayed close to home.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tristan said. “Liora is a lovely woman. We all know how mad Peter is for her.”
“As I said, she is much better than she was,” Alexander said. “Chris’ wife has been with her nearly the entire time, tending her. She will heal.”
They had crossed under the gatehouse and emerged into the bailey. Behind them, the portcullis was immediately lowered, and the concussion when it hit the ground reverberated throughout the bailey.
“All good to hear,” Tristan said, pausing to face Alexander. “But that is not the good news you came to deliver, is it?”
Alexander shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I come bearing a summons from William Marshal, and also a message.”
“What’s the summons for?”
Alexander gestured to the hall. “Can I at least sit down and wash the dust of the road from my throat?” he said. “Or will you hold the wine hostage until I have told you everything?”
“I will hold it hostage,” Tristan said, a glimmer in his eye. “I do not appreciate your drawing out the news for dramatic effect.”
Alexander grinned. “It is nothing dramatic, I assure you,” he said. “But it is important. It seems that young Henry, our king, wishes to offer you an important post in his household.”
Tristan looked at him with shock. “Me?” he said. “But I’ve never even met him.”
“I know,” Alexander said. “You are aware that the Marshal has been advising the young king. He’s practically ruling the country, to be honest, and he has had many long conversations with Henry about you.
They have decided to confer an earldom upon you and give you an important post in Henry’s court.
You’re his uncle, after all, Pat. You should be something more than a mere knight on the Welsh marches. ”
Tristan wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and it was reflected in his expression. Shocked, he looked around the bailey, up at the towers, before finally returning his attention to Alexander.
“I like it here,” he said simply. “An important royal post… I don’t know, Sherry. I do not have an appetite for such things. I’ve made my home at Wrexham.”
Alexander put a hand on his shoulder. “But it does not belong to you,” he said. “This is an honor, Pat, truly. But there’s more.”
“What more?”
“A bride comes with it,” Alexander said with a smile. “She is the heiress to the Earldom of Eastbourne, which will become yours when you marry her. Congratulations, old man. I hear she’s wildly wealthy.”
Tristan backed away, throwing up his hands. “Stop right there,” he said firmly. “I cannot marry an heiress or anyone else. Sherry, I was married yesterday. I already have a wife.”
It was Alexander’s turn to look surprised. “You did?” he said, looking to Addax for confirmation. When the man nodded, Alexander was rather stunned. “Christ, Pat, that makes for a rather awkward situation.”
Tristan puffed out his cheeks, emitting a harsh exhale in a gesture that suggested he quite agreed. “Aye, it does,” he said. “Although I am honored by the Eastbourne betrothal, it simply won’t happen. I’m very happy with my wife.”
“Who is it?”
Tristan looked at Addax, who shook his head at the man as if to silently reiterate that he should have told the Marshal much sooner about the situation at Wrexham. Tristan knew that, but there was nothing he could do about it now.
“Come into the hall,” he said. “There is much happening here that you should be aware of. I think we may need that wine.”
Curiously, Alexander followed.
*