Chapter Fourteen
David saw his brother coming.
Beneath crisp blue skies, the men had just finished setting up their encampment on the opposite side of the bailey from John’s encampment, next to William Marshal’s, when David saw Christopher coming through the big gatehouse that led to the keep.
He could tell that his brother was upset simply by the way he walked.
He was stomping.
That was never a good sign.
David didn’t go to greet him. He knew that Christopher would come to him soon enough, so he simply stood there, watching his brother’s body language and suspecting he must have had a row with Christin. David couldn’t imagine what it had been about, but he would soon find out.
As he stood there and watched, William emerged from a nearby tent. He had a dagger in his hand and was sharpening it on a pumice stone as he wandered over to where David was standing. He, too, could see Christopher stomping about and he paused in his sharpening to watch.
“Your brother appears upset,” he finally commented. “Has he had a run-in with John already?”
David shook his head. “He went to find Christin,” he said. “I cannot imagine what she might have said that would have upset him so.”
William wasn’t sure Christin had anything to do with it, but he kept his mouth shut.
His money was on an encounter with the king.
He spit on the stone and continued sharpening the dagger, one given to him by his wife and one he wouldn’t let the squires tend to when they were maintaining the rest of his weapons.
This little dagger had sentimental value, surprising for a man who usually gave little stock to emotion.
Therefore, he carefully worked the blade as Christopher marched up on David.
In fact, his gaze was moving between David and William. His mouth was working as if he wanted to say something, but he finally hissed and threw his hands up, turning away and heading into the big de Lohr tent that was flying the bright blue and yellow standards on this day.
David and William looked at each other curiously before David finally turned for the tent. “I shall see what this is about,” he said.
William was still grinding the blade against the stone. “Go ahead, but you and your brother will attend me in a few minutes when the other men gather.”
“Aye.”
As David headed into the tent, William started to turn away but thought better of it.
Although he wasn’t one for eavesdropping, he wanted to make sure Christopher’s anger had nothing to do with the king.
The two had historically shared a contentious relationship, so any flare in that dynamic was never a good thing.
Perhaps listening in might not be a bad idea.
Unaware that William was positioning himself outside, David entered the tent to find his brother gulping down a rather large cup of wine. Casually, he came around to collect his own cup.
“Did you find Christin?” he asked nonchalantly.
Christopher swallowed the gulp in his mouth. “I did,” he said. “Do you want to know where I found her?”
“Where?”
“In the arms of Sherry.”
David didn’t quite get the meaning at first. He took a drink of his wine as the words settled and, puzzled, he looked to his brother.
“In the arms of…?” He frowned in confusion. “Sherry? I don’t understand.”
Christopher looked at him as if he were a fool. “They were embracing, David,” he said, making a gesture indicating a hug. “You know – embracing.”
Now, David understood. “Sherry?” he gasped.
Realizing his brother finally got the message, Christopher snorted. “Aye, Sherry,” he said. “I found them in the garden and they made the perfect picture of two lovers.”
David’s mouth was hanging open. “Sherry?”
Christopher slammed his cup to the tabletop and poured himself more wine.
“Alexander de Sherrington and my daughter are fond of one another,” he said.
“In fact, Christin told me that she adores him. He told me he wishes to speak to me about her, which I can only assume to mean that he wants to marry her.”
David was astonished. “Sherry wants to marry?” he repeated. “That is the most outrageous thing I have ever heard. I never imagined him to be the type. And with Christin?”
“Aye.”
“But he’s twice her age!”
“I know,” Christopher said in the same outraged tone that David had used. “But according to him, and her, their feelings for one another are real. Christin thinks I am going to ruin this for her.”
David’s expression screwed up. “Ruin what? Her affair with Sherry?” He shook his head. “He’s an Executioner Knight, Chris. He lived at the Lateran Palace for years with a harem of women. Did you forget that?”
Christopher shook his head. “David, you are telling me something I already know,” he said irritably. “I even reminded him of it, but he told me he hardly touched those women and they meant nothing to him. But he also made a good point.”
“What is that?”
“He told me if I could deny ever touching a whore before I met my wife, then he would drop his pursuit of Christin. Given our reputations when we were younger, of course, I could not deny it.”
David backed off a little because his brother was correct.
They’d had their share of loose women, but they’d never had the harem that Alexander had possessed those years ago.
With a grunt, he rolled his eyes and turned away, pondering the shocking situation of his niece and Alexander de Sherrington.
“But he’s an Executioner Knight,” he repeated. “He’s a known assassin, Chris, the most ruthless kind.”
“I know.”
“The man is great to serve with and I respect him a great deal, but I cannot say I’d want him married to one of my daughters.”
Christopher poured himself more wine. “Why not?”
David looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “I just told you. He’s a ruthless assassin.”
“You and I have been known to kill a man or two, and not always by the most noble or ethical of means.”
“True, but Sherry serves William Marshal,” David pointed out.
“He will be away constantly in his service for the man and that is no life for Christin. She should have a husband who will remain with her. And what of his life as an agent for The Marshal? You’ve kept Christin well protected from the world at large.
It will be a shock to her to be with such a man. She’s an innocent.”
“You’re wrong.”
It wasn’t Christopher who replied, but William. He was standing in the tent opening, pushing the flap back as he entered. Christopher and David looked at him questioningly as he came into the tent, eyeing the two of them.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was standing outside and overheard you. Am I to understand that Sherry and Christin have a romance?”
Christopher nodded. “Aye,” he said, feeling some defeat now that his anger had worn thin. “Did you know about it?”
William shook his head. “I did not,” he said, moving for the jug of wine on Christopher’s table. “But that is a testament to Sherry’s professionalism. Christin’s, too.”
Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Christin? What do you mean by that?”
William glanced at him as he poured his wine. “Your daughter is not protected and sheltered, Chris,” he said. “She is not innocent, either, as David has suggested. She has been an agent with me for two years and she is one of the best I have ever seen.”
Christopher’s eyes bugged. “Christin?”
“Christin.”
“My daughter?”
“Your daughter. If you did not know that, then she is, indeed, good at what she does.”
Christopher’s jaw dropped. “It’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid it is.” William brought the cup of wine to his lips and took a sip before continuing.
“She’s a de Lohr, Chris. She is young, that is true, but she is courageous, bright, and fearless.
Had she been born male, she would have made a superb knight.
I have used her on many a task and she has performed flawlessly. ”
Christopher stared at him. After a moment, he hunted down a chair and sat heavily. He found that he had to sit down or fall down. Shocked didn’t even begin to cover what he was feeling at the moment.
“Christin is an agent?” he muttered as if trying to convince himself of the truth. He sat there for a moment, dazed, before his focus moved to William. “We knew Peter was, but Christin?”
“Peter recruited her,” William said, watching Christopher wrestle with the news. “Chris, I tell you this because your daughter is not the fragile little girl you seem to think she is. She is one of the strongest women I have ever seen.”
Christopher put up a hand. “She is my daughter,” he said. “She is not some ruthless Marshal assassin.”
“You would be wrong.”
His eyebrows lifted. “What?”
William was genuinely trying to be gentle about the situation because he could see that Christopher was reeling, but the man had to know. His daughter was no weakling.
“Do you remember back at Ramsbury, Chris?” he asked. “Peter and Bric and Sherry and even Christin, all of them, were in the great hall and then everyone disappeared. I do not know if you remember that, but…”
Christopher cut him off. “I remember it well,” he said. “I even commented about it to David. But we were only assuming Peter was involved.”
William shook his head. “I want to explain something to you,” he said.
“I am telling you this not to cause you shock or even pain, but because I have an end motive in mind. At Ramsbury, we were chasing a French double agent, Lord Prescombe. We caught him, but we caught his companion, too. Or, I should say, your daughter caught her. When the woman attacked Christin, your daughter killed her. No fear, no hesitation. She killed because she had to, because she had no choice. But she is a true de Lohr to the bone. Do you know why she returned to the hall in a different gown from the one she had been wearing earlier in the evening? It was because there was blood all over it and she did not want you to see it. She covered her tracks, even from you.”