Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Devlin was honest. “There is an old proverb that says my enemy’s enemy is also my friend,” he said.
“O’Byrne is an enemy to all of us. Of course I have other Irish allies to turn to, but none of them with the risk that you and I face daily against that savage clann.
Moreover, my Irish allies would not fight off O’Byrne from Glenteige.
They would let you burn. That is why I have come to you; this is something very important to all of us that face this threat.
Help me against the O’Byrne and I will help you, too.
Should you ever need my support, all you need do is summon me and I will come. ”
It made complete and utter sense and de Noble, as resistant and uncertain as he was, could no longer deny it.
De Bermingham was correct in every way. Turning to look at de Ferrer and Connaught, he could imagine them in a fight against the O’Byrnes.
Then he could see his lovely Elyse in the clutches of the barbarian clann, being tortured and raped.
It was just too much to bear. He had to release his pride.
He had to take a stand for the common good.
Pushing aside the last of his resistance, de Noble focused on Devlin. “Very well, then,” he said. “Let us say, for argument’s sake, that the O’Byrnes are on a rampage. Now they have Black Castle. What will we do?”
Devlin was feeling some hope at the man’s reaction; at least he was willing to discuss it.
“You and I will ride with your army north to Black Castle and reclaim it,” he said.
“I will summon more de Bermingham men from my father as well as O’Connor men.
I can have an army of five thousand men within a week.
At that point, we ride north to Kiltimon Castle and destroy it.
We will burn it and everything that reeks of O’Byrne.
With Kiltimon destroyed, attacks in south Wicklow will ease considerably.
We will also march upon Balleyhorsey and Ashford.
Once those smaller castles are taken, I will turn them over for Kildare and de Cleveley to administer. You can station English armies there.”
De Noble hated to admit it but he liked very much what he was hearing. But there was one thing left he wasn’t clear on. “What about Black Castle?”
Devlin’s gaze was deadly. “That remains my holding. I will not give it up.”
At least he was honest with his intentions. De Noble looked up at Victor. “What say you about that?” he asked. “It is Kildare’s property, after all.”
Victor considered the question. “I am sure the earl will relinquish it to Black Sword if he gains new properties instead,” he replied. “Kildare will receive Ashford and Kiltimon.”
“Then de Cleveley will receive Balleyhorsey.”
Attention returned to Devlin. Deals were being made and they wanted his reaction. He had, after all, started the entire thing. De Noble, much calmer than he had been minutes earlier, cocked his head.
“It would seem we have made a deal with the devil, de Bermingham,” he said. “I hope I do not live to regret it.”
“Nor do I,” he said honestly. “Look at it from my perspective; I just promised three Irish castles to English lairds. I have spent years trying to force the English out of Ireland but in this case, if it will save my castle, my people, and wreak havoc with the O’Byrne, I am willing to compromise.
If anyone is making a deal with the devil, it is me. ”
De Noble’s gaze lingered on him. There were many things on his mind at the moment but one thought in particular; strange it would occur to him now.
“Several years ago, I saw you with your father when I visited Dublin,” he said.
“It was a meeting between Irish chieftains and English lords. You had flaming red hair and were as big as a bull. Now that your hair is growing in, I can see you haven’t changed much.
When you walked into my keep those weeks ago, I knew I had seen you somewhere but I simply couldn’t place you. ”
Devlin was feeling a huge amount of relief now that the conversation was becoming one of understanding.
It could have gone so badly in so many ways.
He finally took his eyes off of de Noble to see that there was still a ring of Englishmen surrounding him, protecting him from a roomful of hostile men. He found it rather ironic.
“And now you have,” he said. “I would presume that I need not fear for my life within the walls of Glenteige now.”
De Noble looked around at his men and motioned them to lower their weapons. “Nay,” he said, a hint of defeat in his voice. “Although it would have made a mighty prize to capture Black Sword.”
“I will make a better ally than a prize.”
De Noble’s expression took on a hard cast; even though they’d made the deal, trust in an innate enemy was still hard to come by. “I sincerely hope so,” he said. “And by the way; I have one request to make of you.”
“What is that?”
“Three years ago, if you recall, you looted Glenteige.”
“I recall.”
De Noble’s brow furrowed and he frowned most terribly. “You took something that belonged to me,” he said. “I want my damn chair back!”
*
Devlin, de Noble, Victor, de Ferrer, and Connaught had stayed up most of the night discussing strategies and plans, and the English got their first real look into the brain of a brilliant rebel, a man who mapped out tactics and strategies better than they had ever seen.
He was precise, deliberate, and covert. After the first few minutes of strategizing, de Noble shut his mouth and let Devlin do the rest. He knew genius when he saw it.
No wonder Black Sword had never been beat. His respect for the man grew.
Devlin’s basic strategy was two-fold; the majority of de Noble’s eight hundred man army would approach Black Castle from the front and divert attention while they went through battle preparations, while seventy hand-selected men would approach from the sea side.
The cliffs were sheer and difficult to pass, but there was a very narrow and secretive staircase carved into the side of the cliff just below the keep that could be used to breach the castle.
It had been used long ago by supply ships approaching from the sea but they had given up using it because it was so treacherous.
Devlin seemed to think that it was the perfect opportunity to sneak into the keep and take the fortress from within, and those around him were forced to agree.
So after much planning and wine, the die was cast and those who could grabbed a few hours of sleep before sunrise.
De Noble had offered Devlin a bed in his solar where Victor, Trevor, and William du Reims were sleeping, and Devlin accepted his offer only to sneak up to Emllyn’s chamber after everyone had gone to sleep.
He had to see her before he left. There was so much pain and longing in his heart for her already that he was sure it would kill him.
He was desperate to hold her one last time.
Not surprisingly, she was awake and waiting for him.
While Eefha snored in the corner, Devlin came into her room and swept her into his massive embrace, feeling her life and warmth against him.
He continued to hold her, very tightly, for quite some time.
Emllyn finally had to force him to release her because she couldn’t breathe. With a grin, he complied.
“Come and lay with me,” Emllyn took him by the hand and led him over to her bed. “Tell me what is happening.”
She climbed onto the bed and he lumbered up after her.
Together, they snuggled in the folds of her linens.
It was simply enough to hold one another at the moment; no wild lust, no fevered passion…
this was more than that. It was emotion, in its purest form, the need to hold and be held, to love and be loved.
Devlin buried his face into the back of her hair, thinking how much he had changed since he had first met her.
In the first few days of their acquaintance, all he could think of was bedding her.
It was purely a physical need, something that required satisfaction.
But now, being with Emllyn went beyond the physical.
His heart was so full of emotion for her that to feel her alive and well in his arms was the most wonderful thing he could imagine.
“Well?” she prompted him.
He grinned; he hadn’t realized he’d lost himself in his reflections. “We leave before dawn,” he murmured. “We hope to reach Black Castle in two days whereupon we will commence with a strategy to remove the O’Byrne from my fortress.”
Emllyn waited for more of an answer but none was forthcoming. “That’s all?” she asked. “No great revelations or plans?”
He kissed the back of her head. “None that would interest you,” he said. “It will be a great comfort to me knowing you are here, safe with Eefha to watch over you.”
Emllyn gazed off into the darkness, her soft hands caressing the arms that were around her. “I will not pretend that I am not concerned for you,” she said softly. “This is a great and terrible undertaking.”
“It is.”
She turned in his arms to look at him. “I was very proud of you tonight and what you said,” she whispered. “Mayhap… mayhap Black Sword’s legacy will no longer be one of war and rebellion. Mayhap it will become one of peace.”
He was very close to her face, rubbing his nose against hers.
“Mayhap,” he agreed softly. “It has occurred to me that I do not want to be constantly warring and placing my family in danger. I have you to think about now. I do not like the idea of you at a castle that is constantly at war. And what of our sons? Although I wish for them to be great knights, I do not like the thought of them always in danger.”
Emllyn smiled, her eyes glimmering at him. “Do you know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think that Black Sword has evolved as both a warrior and as a man,” she said softly. “You would not have spoken this way on the day we met.”