Chapter 19 #2
Damien uttered a soft curse, finally leaning back in his chair, bewildered. “I must go to him.” He raised his gaze, seeing that Alissende’s eyes held a telltale sheen that he kept trying to blink back from his own; she nodded wordlessly to him, taking his hand and squeezing it in support.
“It would be wise to make it sooner rather than later, Damien,” Richard said.
Damien looked at Richard sharply, a fist of worry dropping in his gut. “How bad?” he asked.
Richard tipped his head, clearly trying to ease him into it. “It isn’t good.”
Damien looked away, closing his eyes at the thought of what Alex must have been through. He remembered his own torture and how close to death he had come, and that had been nearly five months ago. To think that Alex had endured even more was unbearable to consider.
“I must leave as soon as possible, then,” he said, almost as if to himself.
“That would be best,” Richard said. “However, I am afraid I cannot accompany you there. I have been gone from Meg too long already, in her condition. But I will be sure that you know exactly where John is hiding with Alex, so that you and your men may find them easily. When your brother is stronger and able to travel, we can bring him to my home at Hawksley Manor, where he may heal more fully, God willing.”
“Does John also possess a Writ of Absolution, then?” Damien asked.
Richard shook his head. “He hides, along with Alex. But what of you? You clearly move about freely through the country, and under your own name. How did you obtain one?”
Damien hesitated, and he felt Alissende’s fingers clench on his before she interjected for him, “My cousin Michael is a priest. Along with the proxy documents he arranged for us before Damien was freed from France, he included that as well.” She glanced down briefly.
“However, it is likely not as binding as the one you bear, Sir Richard.”
Richard paused. “I see.” He shifted his gaze to Damien.
“You must take extra care, then, Damien—and consider Scotland for a destination. Since the Bruce’s excommunication for slaying Red Comyn on holy ground at Dumfries, he has found sympathy for others in similar plight.
As long as he continues to open his borders to all Templars, Scotland will be the safest berth for any under papal ban without benefit of a standing writ. ”
“I intend to make my way there eventually, Richard, but for now, my work here is not yet done.”
“Understood. In truth there are a handful of us who have remained in England by choice, working to free the pockets of brethren being interrogated by the French inquisitors who have made their way over here. Of us all, I am the only one thus far who may move about freely.”
“You said the French Inquisition is interrogating men here, in England?” Damien asked, frowning.
“Aye, unbeknownst to King Edward. In our search for you and Alex, we learned of several places, generally near holdings where the Order had encountered resentment, that have secretly brought in the French, whose methods of questioning yield better results for those seeking to destroy the Brotherhood.” Richard’s expression was grim.
“I am sure I don’t need to tell you why. ”
Unable to answer, Damien simply jerked his head in response.
“Will I be accompanying you when you seek your brother, Damien?”
The softly spoken question came from Alissende.
He looked at her, struck anew by her beauty, which shone as much from the inside as it was apparent in her outer form.
She was clearly worried for him, and yet the true danger would be to her, if she came along.
In addition to the usual risks of bandits or even accident, at the pace he would need to assume in order to reach Alex, was the fact that he traveled toward two men who were wanted by the Crown for questioning. Men considered heretics under law.
“Nay, lady,” he answered gently. “I will take but my squire and one other man, if they will agree, so that I may travel with all haste. I would see you safely home with the rest of my guard and will join you there when my goal is met.”
She looked distressed for a moment, but then she seemed to swallow her disappointment, and acceptance settled over her lovely face.
As her lashes came down once more and she nodded, he felt a pang of emotion he could not speak of right now—not until this crisis was past and he was by her side at Glenheim again.
“It will be as you wish, Damien,” she said finally. “I hope that you find Alexander recovering, and that you return home safely to me before long.”
“Thank you, lady, for that and much more.” Damien took Alissende’s hand in his, calling that remarkable gaze to him again and holding it as he lifted her palm for a kiss, finishing on a low note of promise, “I will see you within a sennight, I swear it.”
In the hours after Damien, Thomas, and Bernard left Odiham’s grounds, they made good time, so Damien called a brief rest to give the horses some water.
It felt good to stretch, but they could not delay too long.
As soon as Thomas returned from deeper in the wood, where he’d gone to take care of necessities, they would be on their way again; then, if they stopped only once more for the night, they might indeed reach Alex and John before nightfall tomorrow.
“Sir Damien, riders approach.”
Damien looked up from adjusting his mount’s girth to follow Bernard’s gaze down the road from the direction they’d just traveled.
It looked to be a sizeable group—at least a dozen men—from the sound of the horses and the amount of dust they kicked up.
Bandits would not travel thus, Damien reasoned.
Likely, it was one of the lords and part of his entourage from Odiham, heading for home, now that the tournament was done.
“Should we remount to face them?” Bernard asked, apparently noting the number of soldiers as well.
Damien nodded his head in silence, swinging up onto his own steed as he did.
Of course, if these were men looking for trouble, the disparity of numbers would make being mounted or not a moot point.
That realization made him grateful all over again for Bernard’s willingness to come on this journey.
Both Bernard and Thomas had known that it might prove dangerous on many counts, and both had affirmed themselves ready to face any challenge if such was required in support of their lord.
Unfortunately, this developing situation might well be the first test of their mettle in that regard.
The first line of men came close enough to be seen clearly, and Damien understood at that moment that this might be far more than a coincidental meeting. These men wore the Earl of Harwick’s colors…and Hugh himself rode with them.
Thank God he had had the foresight to send Alissende back to Glenheim with his full contingent of men, Damien thought.
Hugh would not find her here, but that did not mean there wouldn’t be trouble.
Still, except for some sport, perhaps, there was little for Hugh to gain.
Even he was not foolish enough to attempt to kill outright the very man King Edward had named as his opposite for the jousting two weeks hence.
Doing so would risk the king’s wrath and likely lead to being stripped of all title and lands, along with his honor.
Unless there was some other reason behind this newest aggression….
“Ready yourself,” Damien called out in a low voice to Bernard, unsheathing his sword and looking around the edge of the clearing for Thomas.
He slapped the back of Thomas’s mount, sending him into the cover of the forest. Where the hell was the lad?
Though it went against every instinct, Damien knew they could probably outrun Hugh and his men, but he did not want to risk leaving Thomas behind to face them himself.
Pray God it would not come to that, though.
He took comfort in knowing that he’d instructed Bernard and Thomas to seek Richard at Hawksley Manor should they become separated by accident or attack along the way.
He’d not see trouble brought back to Alissende, and Richard would be more likely to find means of protecting her, should Damien be arrested again—or worse.
He glanced again to the approaching forces, noting that they had picked up speed and were barreling toward him and Bernard with blades drawn.
“Take my flank for protection,” Damien called to Bernard, still keeping his gaze fixed on Hugh. “They will likely have little interest in you, and with any luck Thomas will be wise enough to remain in the shadow of the wood until the danger is past.”
But to his surprise, as the soldiers neared, they veered around and away from a direct clash, instead surrounding him and Bernard in all directions, no matter which way Damien wheeled his mount.
He kept his blade out and at the ready nonetheless, wondering if perhaps Hugh intended to challenge him one-on-one again, only this time with naught but his own corrupt rules to follow.
It did not take long to find out.
“Ashby, how fortuitous to find you,” Hugh said in a mocking lilt, punctuating the comment with a smug smile as he approached.
He reined his mount closer—though not close enough that Damien might be able to reach him with his blade.
“But enough of these preliminaries. If you value the life of your man, you will order him to sheathe his sword, and you will do the same. Now.”
Nodding in Bernard’s direction, Hugh added, “I must tell you that one of my best archers has a bolt trained on him even now, under orders to let it fly if you do not comply with my directive by the count of ten.” Raising his hand in signal and shifting his gaze to a spot far off Damien’s shoulder, he began counting, “One, two…”