Chapter Fifty #3
Edward was feeling a bit more in control as he talked.
“Marcus arrived to express his condolences, but there was no mistaking his intent,” he continued softly.
“He came for Dustin and he would not be dissuaded. I tried and he threatened me. David and Richard arrived nearly a week after Marcus did and our king was pulling David and Marcus apart at every turn; it was a nightmare, totally chaotic.” He poured Christopher some wine.
“Richard was in a foul mood with your death and with John’s rampages; David and Marcus were at each other’s throats, and Dustin was crazy. I have never seen such madness.”
Christopher’s head came up, his eyes wet with tears. “Did Marcus force her to go with him?”
“Yes and no,” Edward replied. “Her mind was brittle, and Marcus, as you know, can be persuasive. He convinced her that a change of scenery would be the best thing for her, and he furthermore wasted no time in declaring his intentions. I think he simply overwhelmed her.”
“Bastard,” Christopher growled. “Has he so little respect for me that he would not even allow Dustin to grieve? And what did Richard say to this?”
“Marcus respects you, Chris, but he loves Dustin more,” Edward replied. “Richard gave him his blessing to take Dustin and marry her. David was livid.”
Christopher’s jaw ticked. “So David returned, did he? I knew he would.”
“Your brother was in agony, Chris,” Edward told him softly. “He was consumed with guilt for what had happened between you two and he was as protective of Dustin as a lioness. He only left Marcus alone when Richard ordered him back to Canterbury.”
Christopher sighed, running his hand over his face. “This is all so overwhelming.”
“I know how you feel,” Edward said ironically, watching Christopher as he absorbed the events of the past few months. “Now, tell me, what in the hell happened to you?”
Christopher looked at Edward a long moment before fumbling with his armor and mail. He pulled everything aside and yanked his tunic up to allow Edward a glimpse of the large, purple scar on his torso. Edward visibly paled.
“That,” Christopher said softly, “is the result of a mercenary spear. I was gored like a wild pig and left to die on the outskirts of the battle when a man found me and took me back to his village. There, I was tended by a woman and her husband and nursed back to health. Hell, Edward, I did not regain consciousness for two weeks. They thought I was dead, too.”
Edward shook his head. “Could you get no message to us, to let us know you were alive?”
“Nay,” Christopher replied regretfully. “The village was a den for outlaws. John is seeking these people and they could not risk letting their place be known. There was no way to send word. The only way to let you know I was alive was to tell you myself, so, here I am.”
Edward was beyond overwhelmed; he was having difficulty grasping the entire event. He wiped his hand over his face. “This is incredible. I simply cannot believe any of it.”
“Believe it,” Christopher murmured. “Christ, Edward, now I have to go north and fight Marcus to get my wife back? Life gets more complicated all the time.”
“Indeed,” Edward agreed fervently. “But I warn you, Chris; Marcus will not let Dustin go easily. He was quite adamant when he came here for her, like a man possessed.”
Christopher ground his jaw. “She’s my wife, Edward. He has no choice but to return her to me. If he doesn’t, then he will die.”
Edward averted his gaze, the clash between Christopher and Marcus was bound to tear up the north. He had seen the look in Marcus’ eye when he came for Dustin; the man would die for her. So would Christopher.
“Chris,” Edward ventured after a moment.
“Do you think it wise to go charging up to Somerhill to retrieve your wife? I mean, there is no doubt in my mind that Marcus will do everything in his power to keep her, which will only result in a full-scale war. Do you think that wise for Dustin to witness? After all, the shock of seeing that you are alive will be strong enough without witnessing the ensuing war. And then, suppose, you do not survive; how do you think she will react?”
Christopher’s face was dark as he absently studied his goblet. “She’s my wife, Edward, and Christin is my daughter. I appreciate Marcus taking care of them, but the fact remains that they are mine. And I will take back what is mine.”
“At what cost? Dustin’s sanity?” Edward fired back gently. “Think long and hard on this approach, Defender. Use your mighty wisdom now, more than ever.”
Christopher started to reply when there was a rap at the solar door. Max, Anthony, Jeffrey, Nicholas, Sean, and Guy pushed the door open before being invited, and Christopher motioned them into the room. He knew how stunned and curious they were.
“ ’Tis really you, my lord?” Anthony asked timidly.
“Truly, Anthony,” Christopher smiled wearily.
The men shook their heads, astonished. “But you died. I saw your body.” Anthony insisted.
“I do not know whose body you saw, but it wasn’t mine,” Christopher replied.
Something shot in through the doorway, a wisp of an animal level with their shins. Harold threw himself into his master’s arms, licking crazily and wagging his stubby tail so hard he threatened to shake it off. Christopher grinned as he fought off the affectionate attack.
“Hal, you fat little maggot,” he exclaimed softly. “I was wondering where in the hell you were.”
“Well, that is good enough for me,” Max said softly. “He’s no ghost or the dog wouldn’t go near him.”
Hal was in dog heaven as Christopher scratched him roughly. Edward shook his head at the two of them. “He wouldn’t leave with Dustin, you know,” he said. “She took every animal but him. It was as if he was rooted here.”
“ ’Tis because he knew I would return,” Christopher said, throwing Hal off his lap only to have the dog spring up again.
It was a game they played, the harder Christopher tossed him, the more eager he was to return for more.
He ended up throwing the dog across the room and Hal raced back, wagging his tall and dancing with delight when Christopher put his hand down to let him know he was sincere about not wanting him in his lap.
Anthony was still shaken. He watched Christopher and the dog, letting out a blustery sigh. “You….I mean, the body, was wedged beneath Zephyr. I even retrieved your wedding ring for your wife.”
Christopher looked at him a moment as if he suddenly realized something. “Leeton,” he whispered. “I gave my wedding ring to Leeton to give to Dustin. He was wedged beneath Zephyr, did you say?”
Understanding spread between the men, as if the pieces of a puzzle were suddenly coming together.
“He must have taken your horse,” Anthony said quietly. “His steed sustained a heavy battle wound and he must have taken Zephyr when you were injured.”
Christopher closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the loss of his dear friend. “Did you send word to Derby?”
“Aye, we did. His son turned two years old on the very day of Leeton’s death,” Max replied. “The earl sent a long missive back, informing us of Richard’s progress. A smart little lad, he says. I suppose it was not a tragedy from the boy’s point of view, considering he never knew Leeton.”
Christopher sighed, rising on his long legs. “I suppose. But I do not understand one thing, other than the wedding ring and the destrier, why did you think Leeton was me? We look nothing alike. Surely you could have seen….”
Anthony shook his head. “The body was rotted so badly that we could not tell any facial features, except for the blond hair. You both have blond hair.”
Christopher nodded in instant understanding. “Naturally, you assumed it was me. I understand a great deal now.”
He wandered over to the window overlooking the bailey and his men watched him closely, still finding it very difficult to believe he was returned.
Half of them expected to blink their eyes and he would be gone, but several minutes in his presence convinced them that he was no apparition.
This was the baron, the powerful Defender, and then joy began to override their disbelief.
“Surely we must send missives to King Richard, and David,” Anthony said after several moments. “They must know you are alive. And we shall send a missive to Marc….”
He suddenly looked to Edward, who shook his head darkly. It occurred to all of the knights at the same time that Christopher’s’ wife had gone with Marcus.
Christopher turned around and eyed his men with the sudden silence. Then his eyes fell on Edward. “I ride for Somerhill come the morrow,” he said quietly. “I go to retrieve my wife.”
Edward hung his head. “ ’Tis wrong, I tell you. You shall only upset her further.”
Christopher bit off a harsh retort, instead, turning back to the bailey again. “I have returned from the dead, Edward. That fact alone will upset her; it doesn’t matter how it is presented,” he said, and suddenly turned to Anthony and Jeffrey. “How many men do I carry now?”
“Eight hundred, sire,” Jeffrey replied.
“Mount all but one hundred of them,” Christopher ordered swiftly, the excitement of the march filling him.
He was in command once again. “And, indeed, send word to Richard. Tell him I am riding for Windsor and that I will be taking two thousand crown troops with me to Somerhill. Then send word to my brother; tell him of my plans, but do not ask him to join me. I simply wish for David to know I am alive.”
Jeffrey and Anthony took Nicholas with them as they went about carrying out their orders. Christopher focused on Max and Sean.
“I want the men carrying crossbows,” he said, “and I want the border post reinforced with ten men. I want no Welsh surprises while Lioncross is running with a skeleton guard.”
Guy was the only knight left in the room without duties. He faced Christopher expectantly. “You will carry the missive to Richard. You will not wait for a reply and you will join my army as quickly as possible.”