Chapter Twenty-One
“How far ahead of us do you think they are?”
The question came from David. It was just after dusk on a cold, damp night.
The de Lohr army of one hundred men, plus William Marshal’s troops, totaled about two hundred and twenty men and given that they were out in the middle of nowhere between towns, they were going to have to stop for the night and sleep in the nearby field.
William had headed back to London with John when the king hastily departed Norwich Castle before his celebration feast, leaving Old Daveigh with piles of food and many confused guests to eat it, confused because the king had departed without warning.
Or perhaps there had been some warning, considering rumors of de Lohr storming the keep with his men had spread like wildfire.
The de Lohr brothers had departed, the king and William Marshal had departed, and all that was left was hundreds of soldiers, dozens of lords, and Old Daveigh trying to convince everyone that nothing was amiss.
But it had been clear that something was.
But Christopher couldn’t worry about that. He was only concerned with getting to his daughter before Robert FitzRoy got his hands on her. Several of William’s agents had ridden ahead to prevent this while Christopher and David and Peter moved slowly with the army, but it couldn’t be helped.
And that was frustrating.
“They were not too far ahead of us when we started out, but that gap is growing because two hundred men move much slower than just a few,” Christopher said. “We are going to have to trust Sherry and the others to prevent a travesty from happening.”
“I can ride ahead and see where they are, Papa,” Peter said. “Would you like me to?”
Christopher looked up into the night sky. There was a half-moon, meaning it wasn’t too bright, but it wasn’t pitch-dark, either. There was enough of a glow to travel by.
“It might make you feel better, Chris,” David said quietly. “Let him go.”
Christopher simply nodded and Peter took off, spurring that expensive warhorse down the dark and rocky road. Christopher and David watched that big, white butt fade off in the darkness.
“David,” Christopher ventured.
“Aye?”
“I have come to a decision.”
“What is that?”
“I am going to kill FitzRoy.”
“I know.”
“I am going to kill him and send his head back to John with a message. I am finished tolerating our king. I was content to ignore him so long as he did not touch me or my family, but he has destroyed that stance.”
David looked at him. “I agree,” he said. “He could easily turn on me, too. I have three daughters, Chris. I would kill the man if he turned his attention to one of them.”
“We are protecting our family.”
“We are, indeed.”
They left it at that because neither one found it necessary to voice what would happen when FitzRoy’s head was sent back to John.
It was quite possible that John would seek to punish them by trying to take their lands or essentially declaring war on them.
Christopher and David were large enough, combined, that they could hold off quite an onslaught and even though they would not ask their friends or allies to help them, they knew they would. Even William Marshal would.
And John knew it, too.
It was quite a future that was shaping up for them all. Not wanting to linger on it, at least for the moment because the mood was becoming quite heady, David changed the subject slightly.
“And once she comes home, what are you going to do about Sherry?” he asked. “He went on ahead of everyone to save her, Chris. Clearly, he thinks a great deal of her and, after this, I do not think he will fade away, even if you want him to. Especially if Christin is fond of him as well.”
That took Christopher’s attention off of John and FitzRoy and on to Christin and Alexander, a much less volatile subject.
Sort of.
“He is twice her age,” Christopher said.
“You already said that,” David said. “We know that. Is that your only complaint against him?”
Christopher gave him an exasperated look. “I am not against him,” he said. “But he’s so… old and seasoned compared to her.”
David shorted. “You mean compared to your daughter who was recruited by William Marshal as a spy at the age of sixteen years? Jesus, Chris, show some fairness. Your daughter is not the innocent child you seem to think she is.”
“She’s not a hardened battle warrior, either.”
“You are giving her absolutely no credit. If she has been serving The Marshal for the past two years, then you know what kind of things she has been doing.”
Christopher made a face at him and turned away.
He didn’t want to think of his daughter as a spy, doing things that only tough, seasoned men should be doing.
His sweet little girl who, as a child, would take charge of all of her siblings and would order them to her will as well as any battle commander.
She was just like her mother in that respect.
His wife, Dustin, was the Grand Dame of Bossy Women. She looked like a delicate, beautiful flower with her gray eyes and long, blonde hair, but much like her daughter, looks were deceiving. She was no shrinking violet and, clearly, Christin had taken after her in that respect.
But it was still difficult for Christopher to accept.
“Mayhap she has been doing things I would rather not have her do,” he finally said.
“But she is still my daughter and, like it or not, I still view her as a child. And in answer to your question, I am not sure what I am going to do about Sherry. I had always hoped that Christin would marry a man closer to her age, a strong and reputable knight with an inheritance. As far as I know, Sherry does not have that.”
“You married Dustin without an inheritance,” David reminded him. “You had nothing until you married her and then you had everything. The same could be said for me. In any case, you’ll have to do better than that if you want to find fault with Sherry. I believe he will make her a good husband.”
Christopher looked at David. “You do?”
“Aye.”
“Why?”
David grinned. “Because there is no finer knight I know of,” he said. “Sherry is loyal and brave, strong and intelligent. And if he is fond of Christin and wants to marry her… I can find no fault with that. He would make an excellent addition to the family.”
If David was in support of Alexander, Christopher was going to have trouble denying him.
Perhaps David was seeing something he wasn’t.
Moody and weary, he finally called a halt to the army and moved them off the road and into the smattering of trees to the west. It was some shelter, and not directly on the road, and the men began to set up camp.
David was in the middle of the men, issuing orders, but Christopher stood on the periphery, simply watching.
His mind was too occupied for him to be effective in something like this, so he let David and a few senior sergeants take charge.
He kept looking down the road, thinking of his daughter, wondering where she was and if she was safe, praying that Alexander and the others had reached her.
He knew for a fact that Sean would not give up his prize easily and that, most of all, concerned him.
He didn’t want Christin injured when Alexander and Maxton and Kress, as well as Bric and Kevin and Caius, went after Sean to try and separate him from Christin.
Indeed, that had him greatly worried.
And then, he heard something.
Hooves, he thought. Someone was riding swiftly.
As he focused on the dark road ahead, he began to see horse’s legs coming into view.
But it wasn’t simply one horse; it was two.
Two knights were riding towards him and he immediately recognized Peter, but there was a second knight with him he couldn’t make out.
“David!” he shouted.
As he headed for the road, David broke away from the men and ran over to him, standing alongside him as Peter and the other knight approached. The horses kicked up rocks as they brought them to a halt and Christopher realized he was looking at Kevin, also.
Kevin had ridden ahead with the group of The Marshal’s agents.
His heart was suddenly in his throat.
“Kevin,” Christopher said, trying not to panic. “Why are you here? Has something happened?”
Kevin and Peter dismounted their horses.
“If you mean Christin, she is well, my lord,” Kevin said as he pulled off his helm, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“We have located both her and Sean and the king’s men, and Christin is well.
Sean took her but only because he was forced to.
Above all, he must present the illusion that he is loyal to the king. ”
Christopher breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said. “Where is she?”
“Up ahead in the village of Dereham,” Kevin said. “My lord, I have come on behalf of Sean and Sherry, who have come up with a plan to end this situation once and for all. But we need your help in this matter.”
“Help?” Christopher repeated as if the very suggestion insulted him. “I will not only help, I will lead the charge to regain my daughter. What is this about, Kevin?”
Kevin took a step closer to them, lowering his voice so the soldiers milling about could not hear.
“Sean is taking your daughter to FitzRoy because he must,” he said quietly. “As I said, he must maintain the illusion that he is loyal to the king. But he also believes that he should take her to FitzRoy for one very important reason.”
Christopher’s eyebrows flew up. “I would like to hear that reason.”
Kevin glanced at Peter somewhat nervously before continuing. “My lord, I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you this,” he said. “I did not think this would ever be my duty to disclose, but it is a well-known fact that you are unaware that your daughter serves The Marshal as a…”
“Spy,” Christopher cut him off. “I know. William told me.”
As Kevin looked surprised, Peter’s eyes widened. “You know?” he demanded. “How long have you known, Papa?”