Chapter Fifteen
Frederick had put up a fight, one that had almost cost Shain his life.
He had awoken from his drunken stupor as Shain and two other men had carried him out of Black Castle on that dark and rainy night and just about the time they reached the suspension footbridge that linked the keep with the rest of the fortress, Frederick had come alive.
The two men carrying him had caught the brunt of his panic and fury.
He managed to stab one man with his dirk and the second man had been tossed over the bridge, forty feet down into the rocks and roiling sea below.
Shain, who was already across the bridge at that point, unsheathed his broadsword and raced back onto the bridge to engage Frederick in a fight for his life.
Frederick was without his broadsword but he had his dirk, a long and wicked looking thing, and he had charged Shain with it, who had easily knocked it out of his hand.
But Frederick wasn’t finished. He kicked at Shain, driving the man off of the bridge so that he could come off of it, too.
Once on solid land, he reached down and grabbed a great handful of dirt and rocks and threw them right at Shain’s face.
Shain had been hit in the nose by a fairly large rock and had been momentarily stunned from the blow.
It had been enough of a pause for Frederick to gain the upper hand; the man then slugged Shain in the face, sending him to the ground.
Then he stole Shain’s sword and gored him in the shoulder.
It would have been the chest but Shain had turned just in time and took the blade in his upper arm. With Shain’s sword, Frederick had fled.
Devlin had come barreling out of the keep in time to see Frederick steal a horse and ride from the gates, just as Shain was struggling to pick himself up off the ground.
As he helped Shain, the sentries shouted to him and told him what had happened.
Devlin didn’t order anyone to follow Frederick; it was too dark and the weather was too threatening.
Frederick would be lucky if he survived such conditions, so Devlin wasn’t going to be foolish enough to send anyone after him.
He was more concerned with the one remaining commander he had left.
He let Frederick go.
Now, on the morning following Iver’s death and Shain’s injury, Devlin sat in the hall of the keep, his feet propped up on the table as he pondered the smoking, glowing hearth of the now-quiet chamber.
Shain had been put on a pallet next to the fire and had been sleeping heavily since Enda had given him a sleep potion the night before.
Both Enda and Nessa had tended Shain in the absence of Eefha, who normally did most of the tending of the ill, and the pair had done an excellent job.
Shain’s injury wasn’t serious but he had lost a fair amount of blood.
He was weak. Devlin had stayed with the man the entire time, and sat with him even now.
Exhausted and on edge, he hadn’t slept at all.
Neart sat over on another chair, pulling apart a small rodent he had captured.
The bird had been kept inside during the siege by the O’Byrnes, mostly because everyone knew about Black Sword’s falcon and there would be many archers poised to take the bird down.
Devlin, exhausted and pensive, eyed the animal affectionately.
The bird was the one thing in his world that had always remained constant, so much so that it was like a family member.
Its mere presence gave him comfort in a world that had little.
“Have you slept, Dev?”
Devlin turned away from the falcon pulling at the flesh of the rat to see Shain looking up at him. The man was pale but he was smiling. Devlin gave him a half-grin.
“I do not need to sleep,” he told him, eyeing him with concern. “How are you feeling?”
Shain took a deep breath, wincing when his shoulder hurt. “Well, considering,” he said. “I have been worse off many times. This is nothing but a scratch.”
Devlin pulled his legs from the table and sat forward so he could see Shain better. “I agree,” he said. “But it is best if you rest for today.”
Shain nodded faintly. “I suppose,” he said, his smile fading. “I am sorry about Freddy, Dev. I should have been more vigilant. I have no excuse.”
Devlin waved him off. “It is not your fault,” he said. “Freddy was out to kill us all, I think. He poisoned my wine. Iver drank it before I did and it killed him.”
Shain’s eyes widened. “Iver is dead?”
Devlin nodded, struggling against the sadness. “It was a swift death,” he said, although it didn’t make him feel any better to say it. “Then Freddy tried to kill you.”
“I was going to kill him,” Shain said softly.
“That is true, but there is no way Freddy could have known that,” he said. “He was unconscious when you took him out of the hall. For all he knew, you were taking him back to his bed to sleep off too much drink. The sentries who saw what happened said he attacked you.”
Shain nodded faintly, recollecting the events from the previous night. “It happened very fast,” he muttered. “I should have been prepared.”
Devlin reached down and put a hand on the man’s arm.
“I am simply thankful you are alive,” he insisted quietly.
“But now we have a bigger problem; Freddy has fled. If he survived the initial flight into the darkness and in the bad weather, then the question needs to be asked – where would he go? Freddy is half mad with ambition and anger, so I am sure he was not thinking too clearly when he left here. He has no close relatives; his brother Henry was killed during the destruction of Kildare’s armada, although I do believe he has an aunt on his father’s side who lives in Dublin. Would he go there, I wonder?”
Shain was silent for a moment, eyeing a big dog who wandered past him, searching for scraps.
“Think about it,” he said. “If you had tried to murder your liege, and then tried to kill another knight, and you were furious and hurt that your grab for power had failed, where would you go?”
Devlin thought about that for a moment, pondering what his reaction might have been under such circumstances. “I would want revenge, I suppose,” he said. “If it were me, I would want to gain revenge on those who humiliated me.”
“And if you wanted to destroy them, where would you go? Think, Dev; think.”
The line of reasoning was beginning to become clearer. Devlin could see what Shain was driving at.
“My enemy’s enemy is my friend,” he said softly, the light of understanding coming to his eyes. “I could go to O’Byrne and pledge loyalty, or I could go to de Cleveley and ask for amnesty in exchange for what I know about Black Sword.”
Shain turned to look at him, nodding his head.
“If Freddy goes to de Cleveley, Lady Emllyn is there,” he reminded the man of what he already knew.
“You told me and Iver and Freddy of your plans with de Cleveley, and you further told us that you had posed as a farmer and that de Cleveley’s commander had asked you to return to Black Castle to spy on Black Sword.
You agreed to do so to get into the man’s good graces in order to find out if he was planning an attack against you. You wanted to earn his trust.”
By this time, Devlin was on his feet, seized with the idea that Frederick might be heading to Glenteige Castle to betray both him and Emllyn. It was as good a possibility as any.
“He will tell de Noble that I am Black Sword and that Emllyn was in on the deception all along,” he said, feeling his heart race and his palms sweat with panic. “Sweet Jesus, if he does that, de Noble… de Noble could very well put Emllyn in the vault or, worse yet, execute her for treachery.”
“Frederick could have the last word in all of this,” Shain said softly. “He could ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
Devlin stared at him and Shain could see the emotion in the man’s face.
It brought back the memory from their trip south, when Devlin had been so protective over Lady Emllyn and had shown her such consideration.
Shain had asked him then if there was something between them but Devlin had skirted the subject.
But now, looking at Devlin’s face, he could see that there was indeed something between them.
Devlin must have sensed his thoughts because he lowered his gaze.
“Shain,” he said hesitantly, “I must tell you something, something I’ve not told anyone.”
“What is that?”
Devlin drew in a deep breath. “The night that Freddy brought Emllyn to me, I abused her,” he said quietly.
“I abused her badly. I told her I wanted to fill her full of Irish sons to rebel against the English. But she was strong, Shain; she was so very strong against me. She was wise and she was reasonable. I have never met a woman like her.”
“I see.”
Devlin shook his head. “That isn’t what I wanted to tell you,” he went on. “She intrigued me more than I wanted to admit. And she is so incredibly beautiful. She is also witty and intelligent. She’s the most marvelous woman I have ever met.”
“Is that so?”
Shain was remaining very neutral about the whole thing and Devlin suddenly looked at him.
“I love her,” he blurted, then winced because he had spilled it out without tact.
He struggled to recover. “I love her and I do not regret it. She is the most miraculous thing that has ever happened to me, Shain. She has made me feel things I never thought I would feel. She is my sun and the stars. If she wanted the moon, I would give it to her.”
Shain had guessed as much. Although he didn’t exactly approve, he couldn’t fault the man his happiness. Still, it might come at a price.
“If Freddy has headed for Glenteige, then he will be there before you,” he said. “When you return there, and I know you will, you must be prepared for the damage he has done.”