Chapter Nineteen #2
“I am not offended,” she said, her voice trembling. “I suppose if I were in your situation, I would have done the same thing.”
De Noble was relieved that she wasn’t cross with him for his doubt; he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire of their already-strained relationship.
“Sir Victor says that thirty-three of your brother’s men survived the destruction of the war fleet,” he said. “He also said that John, your farmer friend, helped them escape from Black Castle’s dungeons.”
Emllyn tore her gaze off of Victor and looked at de Noble. “John?” she repeated, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. “Has he returned?”
Victor spoke. “He is with my men, outside of the walls of Glenteige,” he said. “I am going to retrieve them now.”
Emllyn was moving with Victor; in fact, she nearly ran him over. “I will go, too.”
Victor shook his head, forcing her to stop when she tried to push past him. “Nay, my lady,” he said. “It would not be safe for you. You will remain here and we will all sup together tonight, I promise.”
Emllyn was as edgy as a cat and laboring not to show it. She very much wanted to go with Victor to retrieve the English prisoners simply so she could see Devlin, but she knew they would never allow it. Already they were resisting. So she forced herself to calm.
“Of course,” she said, trying to look as if she was satisfied with the thought of seeing everyone at supper. “I suppose I am simply happy to know that some of my brother’s men survived. May I at least walk you to the door, Sir Victor?”
Victor smiled at her. “I would be honored,” he said, turning to de Noble. “I shall return within the hour, my lord.”
De Noble nodded graciously. “I will look forward to it,” he said, eyeing Emllyn. He knew she wouldn’t be happy if he tried to walk with them so he didn’t even ask. “My lady, I will see you tonight at supper.”
Emllyn barely nodded at him as she preceded Victor out of the solar door.
Once out in the foyer, with its rounded walls that tended to echo, Emllyn surprisingly kept a rein on her excitement and shock.
She simply took Victor’s elbow as he walked to the keep entry.
Once the door yawned before them, spilling white light into the dimness of the gray stoned keep, she paused and turned to him.
“I…,” she began.
Victor shushed her before she could speak more than one word. “I will see you upon my return, my lady,” he said, hearing his voice echo off the walls and knowing there were ears listening, more than likely de Noble’s. “I look forward to hearing about your adventures since you came to Ireland.”
Emllyn looked at the man, wanting to say so much more. The tears threatened to return but she fought them. She knew why he was speaking so generically; if anyone understood the gossips and big ears of this place, she did.
“And you shall,” she said. “I… I would also like to see John when he arrives. I would like to see the man who… who saved my life. Did he tell you?”
“All that and more,” he said, letting go of her as he headed out of the keep. “I will send him to you when we return, my lady. Be of good and noble patience that all will work out as it should.”
Emllyn lingered in the doorway, watching the man descend the wide, stone steps.
Her heart was so full of thanks and gratefulness that she could hardly breathe.
Her mind was full of a million memories and hopes, like butterflies, all living and breathing entities inside her soul.
She lifted a hand in farewell to Victor.
“Will you tell him something for me, please?” she called after him.
There was no more echo to amplify their words; in fact, it all seemed rather still outside. There wasn’t anyone around that they could see. Victor paused on the steps.
“What is that, my lady?”
Emllyn swallowed hard; she was coming to suspect simply by the way he was behaving that he and Devlin had more than likely been in discussions with her as the main topic.
It only seemed logical. From the moment she had seen Victor in de Noble’s solar, everything about him told her that he knew what had happened.
All of it. She smiled faintly as she met his gaze, lowering her voice so that he could barely hear it.
“Please… please tell him that everything leads me to thee.”
Victor cocked his head slightly, considering her words, as a faint smile crossed his lips. Nodding in understanding, he turned and walked away. Emllyn watched him, blowing the man a gentle kiss when she knew he couldn’t see it. She simply felt that it was the right thing to do.
He did, after all, love her, too.
*
Victor had returned to the spot where he had left Devlin and his men.
The walk from the front gates of Glenteige had been a wide-open one, as the settlement was surrounded by wide open spaces to get a better field of fire when the fortress was attacked.
Things that could hide rebels like trees or bushes had long since been removed.
As he stood on the precise location where he had last seen his men and de Bermingham, he noticed the trees about a quarter of a mile to the east were moving.
More than moving, they appeared to come alive and Victor realized that his men were coming through the foliage.
Weary, beaten, some men helping others to walk, the entire group was emerging from the forest, including the massive bulk of de Bermingham.
They had evidently seen him approach and were breaking their cover. Victor went to meet them.
Devlin was at the head of the group, moving faster than the others because he was perhaps more anxious than the others. He met Victor several feet in front of the others, nearly bowling the man over in his eagerness and haste.
“Well?” he demanded. “Did my knight make it to de Noble before we did?”
Victor shook his head. “They have not seen him,” he assured him. “He is not here.”
Devlin, who had let his imagination go wild for the past hour, literally had to catch his breath. The shock was so great that he actually gasped.
“Freddy has not been here?” he asked again, just to be sure.
Victor shook his head again, seeing how astonished de Bermingham was.
“Nay,” he repeated for good measure. “De Noble and I had a long conversation where he assured me that no one from Black Castle has come. He says that the only reference to Black Castle in the past few weeks was a lone farmer named John bearing a woman who, he said, had washed upon the shore after Kildare’s armada was defeated. ”
That was good enough for Devlin; he was beyond the ability to measure his relief. “And Emllyn?” he fired at him. “Did you see her?”
Victor knew what he meant. Is she your daughter?
But somehow, Victor wasn’t sure he could tell him the truth.
From his discussions with Devlin, and his brief encounter with Emllyn, he could already see the joy and adoration when one spoke of the other.
There was a warmth there, a spring of hope everlasting, that was more powerful than anything he had ever sensed.
Therefore, he wasn’t sure he could spoil it with reality.
Sometimes reality was best left to one’s own interpretation.
“I saw her,” he said. “She is healthy and whole, and she is anxious to see you. She told me to give you a message.”
Devlin’s big body was quivering with anticipation. “What message?”
“She says to tell you that everything leads me to thee.”
Devlin stared at him. Then, he emitted something that sounded like a hiss, running his hand over his bristly head, his gaze lingering on the fortress in the distance.
The longer he stared at it, the more impact the words seemed to have.
He could feel tears of pure emotion sting his eyes.
He blinked rapidly, chasing them away, before returning his focus to Victor.
“Is she your daughter, Victor?” he asked softly.
Victor paused before answering. “Do you really want to know?”
Devlin suspected the answer but stopped short of pressing the man. After a moment, he simply shook his head.
“I suppose it does not matter,” he said. “I fell in love with Emllyn. She will always be Emllyn to me.”
“As well she should be.”
Victor’s men were starting to gather around them so they let the subject die, never to be discussed again.
Neither man saw the need. Whether she was Catherine or Emllyn, it simply didn’t matter any longer.
She was loved either way. Together, Victor and Devlin led the ragtag band of English soldiers into the embrace of their ally’s fortress.
Once the party reached the enclosure that contained the great stone keep, de Noble sent out men and servants with blankets to assist them into the feasting hall where they would be fed and tended to.
De Noble was also there to greet Devlin in the flesh.
He made a point of seeking the man out as he stood next to the feasting table where the English were eating, stuffing his mouth with roast fowl.
Two days without decent food had left him ravenous.
Devlin looked big and raggedy, and his hair was starting to grow in as bristly as a thistle. He was also starting to look more and more like someone de Noble had once seen, although he still couldn’t place him. He came up behind Devlin and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Greetings, John,” he said rather amiably. “It seems you are the English’s greatest ally in Ireland. I am sure you have already been thanked profusely for rescuing these men from Black Sword’s vault, but let me add my thanks as well. We are very fortunate to have you on our side.”
Devlin turned to the man, swallowing the food in his mouth as he did so. He forced a smile as de Noble reached out and took his hand to shake it.
“It was my pleasure,” he said. “I was glad to assist.”
“But how?” de Noble wanted to know. “How did you manage to do it?”
Devlin had to think fast. He didn’t dare look at Victor for fear of appearing uncertain, so he simply began speaking.