Chapter Six #2
The military attributes were almost too long to list. The castle had only been breached once in known history, but it was a miracle as to how that had even happened.
Alexander was impressed anew every time he saw the place, for it was truly a marvel.
It belonged to the crown, but the House of de Winter had been garrison commanders since the times of the Duke of Normandy, so it was more of a de Winter castle than anything else.
Everyone referred to it as a de Winter castle and the House of de Winter was deeply entrenched in Norfolk as a result.
They held most of the northern part of Norfolk and into Lincolnshire.
The House of de Winter was truly a powerful and distinguished family.
As Alexander and Christin entered the first of a series of gatehouses built upon the mottes, the de Winter men recognized Christin and greeted her, and she introduced Alexander.
His name alone was legendary with most fighting men and if they hadn’t heard of him, then they’d certainly heard of William Marshal. It was a name that opened doors.
Passing through the first two gatehouses, they crossed the bridge to the third and immediately noticed that the king’s entourage had set up camp on the west side of the motte with colorful tents and royal standards.
Torches lit up the area as men moved about.
This was also the motte where the stables were, so she and Alexander headed to the enormous stable area on the east side where grooms were waiting to take their mounts.
As Christin dismounted and untied her satchel from her saddle, her gaze kept moving to the king’s encampment.
The motte was quite large, so they weren’t in danger of encroaching on the king’s camp, but there were royal soldiers moving about.
Christin hadn’t been concerned with John’s visit to Norwich until her conversation with Alexander and, now, she found herself watching the men who were setting up the tents, wondering where, exactly, the king was.
“Do you think John is inside the keep?” she asked Alexander.
He was just pulling his saddlebags from his horse. He glanced over at her, seeing that her attention was on the king’s encampment. He could hear the concern in her voice.
“More than likely,” he said. “Where will you go now?”
“The same place you are going,” she said. “I must report back to Old Daveigh and then I shall seek Lady de Winter.”
Alexander slung his bags over his shoulder as he came to stand next to her, but she wasn’t moving. She was watching the king’s encampment.
“I would not worry,” he said quietly. “You know what you must do. Remain out of sight from the king or, at the very least, away from him. We are looking for a greater threat against him, meaning you will have to listen to the gossip of visiting ladies and even men to see if there is any information to glean.”
Christin knew that and she nodded, drawing on that great de Lohr courage she had. “I am not worried,” she lied. “And I find that men know more than the women do. I will have to find a young lord to drink with so he will tell me all his secrets.”
Somehow, that statement didn’t sit well with Alexander.
He didn’t like the thought of her sitting with an amorous young lord as she tried to bleed information from him.
Alexander knew she must have done it a dozen times, given what she did for The Marshal, but hearing her say it…
nay, he didn’t like it in the least. He didn’t like the idea of her prostituting herself like that even though it was her duty.
God help him, he didn’t like her duty.
What was happening to him?
He cleared his throat softly.
“If you wish to stay clear of the king, at least for now, I would stay away from the men,” he said.
It was mostly the truth. “Stay with the women and listen to what they have to say. I will handle the men, along with your brother and Bric and Kevin. Let us do our duty and you do yours. We cannot, and should not, get close to the women, but you can. That is where you are most valuable.”
If Christin thought his directive was coming from a jealous and confused potential suitor, she didn’t give any indication. It was a command coming from her superior and she accepted it as such. She simply nodded her head and started walking. Alexander followed.
Norwich was lit up with the light from a thousand torches on this night and as they crossed the bridge towards the keep, they were seeing more and more royal soldiers.
Alexander was dressed in full protection as a seasoned knight, bearing the green and white shield of William Marshal on his tunic, but Christin wasn’t wearing anything other than her traveling dress and cloak.
She’d lost the garland in her hair somewhere back at the feast. She wasn’t hard to miss with her dark hair and pale eyes, attracting the attention of some of the king’s soldiers.
Alexander could see the lascivious looks in her direction and his blood began to boil.
Christin didn’t belong to him; she wasn’t anything to him.
At least, not yet, but there was a huge part of him that was feeling overwhelmingly protective over her.
He would have liked nothing better than to gouge out the eyes of the men who were mentally undressing her as she walked by.
Finally, he could stand no more.
“Hold my arm,” he muttered.
She looked at him in surprise. “What did you say?”
His gaze was on the men around them on the bridge. “I told you to hold my arm,” he said. “These soldiers must believe you either belong to me or have my protection so they will not try to accost you.”
“But…”
“Hold my arm.”
He hissed at her, firmly, and she immediately grabbed his elbow, making it look as if, indeed, they were a pair. Not strangely, Alexander was coming to wish that they were. He felt puffed up like a peacock having her on his arm.
Proud as he’d never been proud in his life.
They came off the bridge and into the motte that contained the keep, which was immediately to their left.
There was a yard here and several outbuildings, including a small garden, but Alexander headed straight for the keep.
There was a stone staircase that led to a guarded lobby.
As they headed up the staircase, Christin looked at him.
“May I let go of your arm now?” she asked.
He nodded. “You should,” he said. “I would have some explaining to do if Peter saw us.”
Christin removed her hand. “He is too protective,” she said. “He would undoubtedly tell my father.”
“I am not afraid of your father.”
“You aren’t?”
He shook his head as they reached the protected lobby, but he paused before stepping in. “There is something you should know, Cissy,” he said. “No man frightens me and if I want something, a thousand Christopher de Lohrs could not stand in my way. In the end, I will have it.”
Her lips twitched with a smile. “I believe you.”
“Good,” he said. “Because, at some point, I suspect we might have this conversation again. Come along now and stay close.”
With that, he headed into the hall, but Christin was still lingering on what he’d just said.
She rushed after him but, all the while, her mind was trying to decipher what he could have meant.
She wasn’t entirely certain of his message but, instinctively, it made her heart flutter in ways she’d never known before.
In the end, I will have it.
Could he possibly mean her?
She wondered.
Forcing herself away from thoughts of Alexander, at least for the moment, she looked out over the great hall as they passed through it.
The room was crowded – very crowded – and men were seated around tables as servants moved about, bringing the precursor to the coming meal.
Drink and cheese and bread were plentiful upon the three big feasting tables that she could see, with a massive blaze in the hearth that was belching smoke into the hall.
The chamber itself was tall, with windows for ventilation at the top of it for the escaping smoke.
Alexander was heading for the secondary hall called the knight’s hall.
It was off of the main hall and where the lord usually feasted with his knights and senior officers.
Lady de Winter had her own separate feasting chamber off of the knight’s chamber, a small room that was cozy and only for the women.
As Alexander and Christin entered the knight’s hall, they immediately saw Peter eating at the table along with several other de Winter knights. But there was no Bric and no Kevin.
Alexander approached the table.
“Where is MacRohan?” he asked. “And where is Kevin?”
Peter stood up when he saw his sister. “Bric and Old Daveigh are in the small solar next to the chapel,” he said, his gaze mostly on Christin. “I do not know where Kevin went. He saw his brother arrive with the king and fled. Where have you been, Cissy?”
Christin glanced at Alexander, rather chagrinned she had to answer the question.
“You would not believe if I told you,” she said.
“But because you will keep asking me if I do not, I will tell you that the ale at the wedding feast made me ill and Sherry found me sleeping in the church. Rather than wake me and bring me to Norwich drunk, he let me sleep. He has been most gracious about it but I am mortified.”
Peter stared at her a moment before breaking out into a grin. “I am sure you are,” he said, sitting back down. “Old Daveigh wants to see the both of you as soon as you arrive. Go to him.”