Chapter Sixteen #4
Maximus shrugged. “That is true,” he said. “But give him a few days still. Then we shall see if he can stand in front of you and not break into a cold sweat.”
Courtly grinned, thinking of the first time she had been introduced to Cassius on the evening that Maximus had first met the boy.
He’d hardly been able to speak a word to her or to Jeniver, his face flushed and his hands shaking.
It was clear that he had been very nervous, so since that night, Maximus had kept the lad with the men because that was where he seemed most comfortable.
Still, he would have to become accustomed to his step-mother and aunt at some point.
“Mayhap I shall make him something special to eat,” she finally said. “Mayhap I can win his confidence through his stomach. In that respect, he is not much different than Tiberius. Both Tiberius and Cassius seemed to be easily won over with food.”
Maximus gave her a half-grin. “That is true,” he agreed, his focus lingering on Cassius. “I am anxious for Tiberius to meet him. If anyone can bring Cassius out of his shell, Tiberius can.”
The focus shifted from Cassius to Tiberius and Courtly eyed her husband.
The subject of Tiberius had come up and that wasn’t something they had spoken of much since Gallus and Maximus returned from London.
Any mention of Tiberius was quickly diverted.
Both Courtly and Jeniver had noticed. But now, Maximus was speaking of his younger brother and Courtly followed his lead.
“Max,” she said hesitantly. “The last I saw of Tiberius, he was riding with you and Gallus to escort Sir Bose and Lady Douglass to London and when you returned, it was without him. When the subject of Tiberius has come up, you have told me that he is remaining in London but you will not tell me why. We have hardly spoken of him, which is very unlike you and Gallus. You speak of Tiberius constantly. Has… has something happened to him and you are afraid to tell us?”
Maximus shook his head. “Nothing has happened to him,” he said. “He is of good health.”
“Then why did he remain in London?” she pressed. “Is it because of Lady Douglass? She told Jeniver and me that she was traveling to London because the king had selected a potential husband for her. Did Tiberius remain in London to vie for her hand also?”
Maximus’ good mood fled. The day Gallus had told him about Tiberius swearing fealty to de Moray was the same day that Maximus had received word about his son.
It had been a very difficult day, indeed, with thoughts of Cassius and Rose at the forefront, but now that the days had passed and he was coming to know Cassius, thoughts of Tiberius were weighing heavily upon him.
He still could hardly believe what Gallus had told him…
Tiberius is sworn to de Moray now because of Lady Douglass.
God, it just didn’t seem real. Every day that passed saw him feel worse and worse about it.
But they hadn’t told the women yet. It just wasn’t something they wanted to discuss, even among themselves.
None of the knights knew, either. Maximus was simply hoping that Tiberius’ behavior was just a phase he would grow out of, something he would get over and then return to Isenhall to beg forgiveness, but Gallus seemed to think that it wasn’t a phase at all.
He thought that Tiberius was quite serious.
Therefore, no one said a word about it. It was still too fresh and painful and confusing to think on.
“Aye,” he said simply. “He is vying for Douglass’ hand.”
Courtly thought his answer sounded odd. “Then I am happy for him,” she said, watching the expression on her husband’s face. “He seems to like her a great deal.”
Maximus sighed heavily. “Ty likes every woman a great deal,” he muttered, but he didn’t want to speak of Tiberius any longer so he changed the subject. “Return to the keep and prepare something you believe a growing young lad would like. What will you cook?”
Courtly could see that, once again, he didn’t wish to discuss Tiberius, which concerned her a great deal.
But Maximus had said that Tiberius was well, so she didn’t worry over his health.
Still, something was amiss. She could sense it, but she graciously allowed her husband to change the subject.
He would speak on his brother when he was ready.
“Let me think,” she said thoughtfully. “We have a good deal of cherries left from the summer harvest. I could make cherry pudding.”
Maximus frowned. “Cherries are my favorite,” he said. “I eat them every day with cream. You will not use all of them.”
He sounded like a petulant child and Courtly fought off a grin. “God’s Bones, Max,” she scolded softly. “We have baskets and baskets of those things. Making Cassius a cherry pudding will not take away from your private store of cherries. You are going to have to learn to share.”
Maximus scowled at her but it was without force.
Then, he pulled her into his arms again and kissed her.
Down below in the bailey, men were resuming their posts, nursing swollen lips and scratches from the impromptu fight.
As Courtly kissed her husband one last time and turned for the keep, the sentries on the wall let out a cry of approaching horses.
Gallus, who was still in the bailey making sure the fight was, indeed, finished, was the closest to the gatehouse when the call went up. He called up to the sentries.
“Who is it?”
The sentries were trying to gain a better view. Even though it was a clear day, the riders were still fairly far out. Time passed. No one was completely sure until one man finally waved down to Gallus.
“De Montfort, my lord,” he called. “I see the white and blue banners!”
Gallus immediately turned to Maximus, who was coming down off the keep steps, approaching him.
“Did you hear?” he said to his brother, loudly, as the man came near.
“De Montfort approaches. God’s Bones, we are in for a scolding for not having gone to Kenilworth when we were summoned.
We did not go to him and, therefore, he has come to us. ”
Maximus wasn’t particularly thrilled to hear any of this. “Damnation,” he muttered. “I have not thought of Simon in several days. In fact, I’d forgotten about our summons to Kenilworth.”
Gallus ordered the twin portcullises open before answering his brother. “I have not but, frankly, I did not want to deal with the man at this time,” he said, sighing. “When we explain to him about Cassius, he will understand. He will want to meet the boy, of course.”
Maximus nodded. “And he shall.”
“He will also wonder where Tiberius is,” Gallus said, a sense of dread in his tone. “Inevitably, he will ask.”
Maximus was feeling sickened and saddened all over again. He had successfully dodged the subject of Tiberius whilst speaking with Courtly but now, the subject was back again. He emitted a heavy sigh.
“What will you tell him?” he asked quietly.
Gallus pondered the question seriously. “I have been thinking on that question since leaving Tiberius back in London,” he said.
“I will be honest when I tell you that I do not wish to tell de Montfort the truth. I feel as if somehow… somehow that will taint Tiberius. I am not sure I can explain it any better than that, but suffice it to say that our baby brother is prone to whims. If Lady Douglass was another whim, Tiberius will soon realize that, as I hope he does, then I do not want de Montfort or any of the other barons to know that Tiberius has momentarily defected to the enemy because of a woman. It makes him look so very foolish.”
Maximus thought on that for a moment. “Do you think it is a whim?” he asked. “Do you truly believe it is only a passing fancy?”
Gallus looked at him and, for the first time, Maximus saw a flash of pain for Tiberius’ absence. “I pray it is,” he muttered. “I hope it is but I am not entirely sure. You know I cannot face him in battle.”
“Nor I.”
“Then we tell de Montfort that Tiberius is in London securing a betrothal and nothing more.”
“Agreed,” Maximus said. “As it is, de Montfort is going to be angry with us for not answering his summons to Kenilworth. Any news of Tiberius defecting is likely to send the man into madness.”
Gallus couldn’t disagree. When the riders bearing de Montfort’s white and blue standards began to fill the bailey of Isenhall, Gallus and Maximus were there to greet them. It was loud and chaotic, with dust flying from the horses’ hooves, as the de Shera soldiers coordinated the traffic.
Eventually, de Montfort himself entered the bailey in the middle of the escort and his focus went directly on the Lords of Thunder.
He did not look pleased. But Gallus and Maximus didn’t notice, at least not right away.
They found themselves looking at the man who had ridden in beside Simon.
It was a historic day when the bloodlines of the king entered the fortified walls of Isenhall.
Prince Edward, in the flesh, had arrived.