Chapter Ten #2
Devlin refused and took a step back, away from a soldier who was coming for Emllyn.
But the man came too close and Devlin threw out a big elbow, catching the man in the face.
Blood spurted and as he fell back, a gang of soldiers rushed forward with the intention of separating him from Emllyn.
As Devlin held Emllyn tightly and prepared to fight for his life, a shout from the gatehouse brought the mounting skirmish to a dead-halt.
“Cease!” a man roared. “De Ferrer, what goes on there?”
Sir George de Ferrer, the gray-haired knight, turned swiftly in the direction of the command, as did Devlin and the other soldiers.
Standing just inside the gatehouse was a tall, well-dressed knight with a very finely clad woman on his arm.
The gray-haired knight immediately broke away from the group and headed towards the pair.
“My lord,” he greeted politely, then bowed respectfully to the woman. “Lady Elyse. You are looking very well this day.”
The well-dressed knight spoke before the woman on his arm could respond. “What is going on?” he asked. “Who is that man? And what happened to the woman he is carrying?”
De Ferrer looked over his shoulder at Devlin, now surrounded by a host of hostile English soldiers.
“That man claims he is a farmer from the Black Castle area,” he said.
“He told us that four nights ago, there was a great and terrible sea battle in which the forces of the Earl of Kildare were defeated by Black Sword. The man says that the woman in his arms washed up on shore after the battle and that she is badly injured. He also told us that she is the sister of the Earl of Kildare.”
Before the well-dressed knight could reply, the woman on his arm, the Lady Elyse, let go of his arm and swiftly made her way over to Devlin.
The English soldiers gave her a wide berth, making way for her, as she came to within a few feet of Devlin.
She came to a halt, then, and looked timidly at Devlin.
“I am the Lady Elyse,” she introduced herself politely. Then she gestured at Emllyn. “May I see her, please? I only wish to help.”
Devlin gazed steadily at the Englishwoman; she was short, with very blond hair and big blue eyes.
She had a very polite and practiced way about her, refined and elegant, and Devlin was put at ease.
He couldn’t sense anything hostile from her in the least. After a moment, he nodded stiffly, and Lady Elyse advanced.
With small, white hands, she carefully touched Emllyn’s face and lifted up an eyelid, peering at a sightless eye. Then she felt the pulse on her neck. When she was done with that, she looked up at Devlin.
“What happened to her?” she asked. “Where is she injured?”
“Her leg,” Devlin replied. “She has a wound that is poisonous. She needs help or she will die.”
Lady Elyse nodded fervently. “I will help her, have no fear,” she said, her gaze lingering on Devlin. “What is your relationship to her?”
Devlin was moderately honest, at least as much as he intended to be. “I found her,” he said. “I am responsible for her. I will not leave her alone with men I do not know or trust.”
Lady Elyse smiled faintly. “I do not blame you,” she said. “Will you trust her with me?”
“I will.”
Lady Elyse turned to the men behind her. “I will take the lady to my chamber,” she announced. “Send the surgeon to me immediately.”
At her command, men began to move. It was as if God himself had issued the order. As a soldier ran off to fetch the surgeon, the well-dressed knight who had been Lady Elyse’s escort was evidently uncomfortable with what she was suggesting. He sought to plead with her.
“Your chamber?” he repeated. “We could put her in the servant’s quarters just as well. She does not need to be in your chamber.”
Lady Elyse turned to him. “She is very ill,” she said, seriously but sweetly. “I must tend her and you would not want me spending an inordinate amount of time in the servant’s quarters, would you?”
The man was trapped. He cleared his throat unhappily. “Of course not,” he said. “But your chamber?”
Lady Elyse waved him off as she walked past him, turning to motion Devlin to follow. “Bring her along,” she told him. “Hurry, now. There is no time to waste.”
Devlin didn’t argue; he found himself thanking God for the appearance of this small woman who could move men to do her bidding better than any battle commander. Swiftly, he moved after her, not daring to look at the English warriors he was leaving behind in his wake.
Lady Elyse was fast as she led him through the gatehouse and out into the complex beyond.
Devlin glanced at his surroundings as he followed her; it was as if an entirely new world opened up before him, one of neat dirt avenues and huts made from wattle and daub, with thatched roofs.
People were everywhere, children and men and women, going about their daily lives.
Lady Elyse led him through a town square of sorts, small in size, but with a central well and businesses and trades surrounding it.
He could smell the acrid smoke from the smithy shacks.
Everything was surprisingly well organized and more populated than he would have imagined.
It was an interesting bit of knowledge on a well-protected settlement.
This was some of the intelligence he was hoping to obtain.
But he didn’t have much time to inspect his surroundings as Lady Elyse swiftly took him down a larger avenue which opened up at the end.
Spread before him in all of its glory was another wall, this one of big gray stone, with a moat around it.
The moat was as a moat should be; filled with muck and sewage, smelling up the area horrifically.
The site was heavily guarded and Lady Elyse waved off the soldiers who stepped forward to inspect Devlin.
The men backed away, eyeing Devlin with hostility and suspicion, as the Lady Elyse brought him into the guarded complex.
Inside the inner compound, the layout was simple; there was a block of stables to the left, another wattle and daub building to the right that was big enough for a substantial great hall, and the keep directly in front of him.
It was the keep that had his attention as Lady Elyse led him towards it.
It was at least three stories, built of the same gray stone that the wall was built from.
It was sunk deep into the side of a small hill, as the entire complex was on a slight slope, and the entry door that opened wide to them was a massive thing built of iron and wood.
The keep was also built in an odd shape; it seemed to have what looked like small wings off to the east and the west. He didn’t have time to study it, however, as Lady Elyse brought him swiftly into the dark depths of the donjon.
Once inside, Devlin struggled to adjust his eyes to the darkness.
The massive door had been deceiving, for the entry it opened into was very small and box-shaped.
There were also holes in the walls on either side of the room and he realized they were archer holes; should the door be breached, archers would be positioned to shoot down anyone foolish enough to enter. It was rather clever.
Lady Elyse directed them down the narrow corridor leading from the entry, which opened up into a large room that stretched for the length of the keep.
It was a feasting hall because it had several well-worn tables arranged in it and a massive hearth that was spitting ribbons of gray smoke into the air.
Dogs were wandering the room, scavenging for scraps, and Lady Elyse rushed past them.
At the far end of the chamber was a spiral staircase, built into the thickness of the wall, and she encouraged Devlin to follow her.
He did, struggling with his bulk to make it up the stairs and not smack Emllyn’s head into the wall into the process.
It was then that he realized several men were following them including Lady Elyse’s escort.
Devlin wasn’t surprised but he knew he might be in for great difficulty once he turned Emllyn over to Lady Elyse’s care.
He was fairly certain the English were going to try and separate him from Emllyn. He had to be prepared.
The third floor was arranged exactly like the second floor which, he discovered, was fairly complex in design.
This was a Norman castle and reflected the engineering skills of that race.
The third floor also had the big room that stretched the length of the keep, this one with big wooden dividers in it that separated bed chambers, but next of this room was a second room that also stretched the length of the keep.
It was into this chamber that Lady Elyse took him.
“There,” she pointed at an enormous canopied bed over near the equally enormous hearth. “Please put her there.”
Devlin did as he was told, making his way through the sumptuous and well-appointed chamber to lay Emllyn gently on the bed that was surely covered in feathers. He’d never seen anything so light or soft. He stood there a moment, gazing apprehensively at Emllyn, as Lady Elyse came up beside him.
“Where is her wound?” she asked.
Devlin lifted Emllyn’s skirts to reveal the bandaged left leg.
“Here,” he said. “It looks like a battle wound, evidence that she was indeed in some sort of battle. That is why I believed what she said, that she was on Kildare’s armada.
And she… she is very fine. Her hands are fine and her skin is fine. She is a woman of great breeding.”
He didn’t realize that his voice had softened dramatically as he spoke of Emllyn, but Lady Elyse was very aware.
In fact, she actually came to a halt in her inspection of the unconscious lady, staring at the massive farmer who spoke of the woman with such tenderness. It was a surprising show of emotion.
“I promise I will take great care of her,” she assured Devlin softly. “Now, let me take a look at her wound.”