Chapter Fifteen
Lioncross Abbey Castle
Herefordshire
It had taken him three and a half days.
Antoninus almost wept when he finally saw the massive walls of Lioncross Abbey Castle come in to view.
A massive and legendary place, Lioncross Abbey Castle was so named because it was built on the site of an ancient Roman house of worship and incorporated portions of two walls and part of the foundation into the modern building.
The fortress sat atop a ridge overlooking a large lake and the deep purple mountains that marked the Welsh border could be seen in the distance.
Thick banks of trees surrounded the moat of the fortress and made the region appear lush and fertile, even in the dead of winter.
In fact, it was all rather bucolic, a place of serenity.
How could there be anything wrong in the entire world when there were places as beautiful as this?
It looked like a place Antoninus would have liked to have stayed, a peaceful life on the borders, far from the hell of The Paladin and the rebels who wanted to burn the north of Wales with their rage.
It was a world of difference.
Arriving at the enormous gatehouse of Lioncross, with its lion shield in stone at the crest of the archway, he told the gate sentries who he was and where he was from, and begged for an audience with the Earl of Hereford and Worcester.
The gate guards, recognizing the name of the Earl of Ellesmere and the de Shera crest, admitted him into the vast bailey.
There, Antoninus was taken over to a yew tree, right in the middle of the bailey, where there was a bench built around it. While a groom took his weary horse to water and bed the animal, Antoninus sat down on the bench and resisted the urge to lay down and sleep.
The ride from the north had been long and exhausting, and the entire time he’d been very worried about Tatius.
So much could happen while he was away, and Tatius was as weak as a kitten in a den of lions.
As Antoninus sat there and worried, weariness claimed him and he ended up laying on the bench.
Gazing up into the branches of the tree, with the sun filtering through, he lingered on thoughts of home.
“Are you from Ellesmere?”
A male voice awoke him. Antoninus’ eyes flew open and he sat up, looking straight at a big knight with dark hair and hazel eyes that had a hint of gold to them.
“I am, my lord,” he said, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I am Antoninus de Shera, youngest brother of the earl, Tatius. My apologies… I did not mean to fall asleep.”
The knight had a smile playing on his lips as he looked him over. “I know your brother,” he said. “But I have never met you. How old are you?”
“I have seen sixteen years, my lord.”
The knight’s eyebrows lifted. “You look older,” he said. “I am Edward de Wolfe. Hereford is occupied right now and has sent me to see if I can be of assistance to you.”
Antoninus cocked his head. “De Wolfe?” he repeated. “Wolverhampton?”
Edward nodded. “My father is the Earl of Wolverhampton,” he said, “which makes us allies with de Shera. It was my ancestor who gave your ancestor The Paladin.”
Antoninus nodded. “I know, my lord,” he said. Then, hesitantly: “Should I thank you, my lord?”
Edward laughed softly. “Nay, lad, that is not necessary,” he said, sitting down on the bench next to Antoninus. “But you can tell me how we may be of service. Why have you come?”
Antoninus was reluctant to speak at first. He’d come to speak with de Lohr, but Edward de Wolfe was just as good, to be frank.
The man’s father was the Earl of Wolverhampton, which was quite close to The Paladin, but the Earl of Hereford and Worcester was far more of a Marcher Lord.
The man controlled nearly a third of the Marches, miles and miles of the southern section.
When it came to Wales, he would understand the situation more than anyone.
“Are you friends with Hereford, my lord?” he asked.
Edward nodded. “I have served him for many years,” he said.
“I went to The Levant with him. In fact, it is funny you should ask that because my family and I are preparing to go north to live with my father now that he is aging poorly. These will be my last days with Hereford, as I will soon be assuming my place as the next earl. But you did not come to Lioncross to hear that; tell me why you have come, young de Shera. What is so important that you have ridden all the way here?”
Antoninus took a deep breath. He’d been planning this moment in his mind for days but now that it was upon him, it was difficult to know where to start.
“My brother, Tatius, has sent me,” he said, grasping for words. “To understand why I have come, I must give you some background. Several months ago, Tatius was approached by a Welshwoman named Nesta ferch Madog. She is a descendent of the last king of Pengwern.”
“Pengwern?” Edward repeated, curiously. “That is near Wolverhampton. It is an ancient Welsh kingdom.”
“Indeed, it is,” Antoninus said. “Many years ago, Nesta was married to Owain Dant y Draig, who was a descendant of the last King of Rhos. Nesta and Owain’s fathers brokered a marriage between the two and a child was born of the union, a daughter.
After the child was born, it was Owain who took her from her mother and gave her over to William Marshal to protect. This was many years ago, my lord.”
Edward put up his hand to stop him. “What does this all have to do with your brother?”
Antoninus held up his own hand, begging patience.
“I am coming to that, my lord, but I must give you the entire story,” he said.
“Recently, Nesta approached Tatius with a marriage proposal. She wanted my brother to solicit a betrothal from William Marshal between him and her daughter, who is now of age.”
Edward was listening quite intently as he tried to figure out the point of the young man’s tale. “Between Tatius and Nesta’s daughter?”
“Correct, my lord.”
“And William Marshal is guardian of the girl?”
“Correct, my lord.”
“Why not the mother? Why was the child taken from her?”
Antoninus lifted his shoulders, weakly. “Nesta says that Owain stole the child away and she could not get close to her because William Marshal was protecting her from King John,” he said. “Tatius thinks that Owain stole the child away because Nesta was going to put the girl in danger.”
“How?”
“By using her to inspire an uprising in the north. She is a Welsh princess of the purest Welsh blood, my lord.”
Edward digested that, his brow furrowed as he thought on what he was being told. It was quite a complicated and concerning tale.
“So why are you here?” he asked. “What has happened that Tatius would send you to Chris?”
Antoninus was feeling rather desperate as he told his story, desperate on behalf of his brother.
“Tatius agreed to the marriage, but he did it before he realized what Nesta was trying to accomplish,” he said.
“The woman has convinced my brothers, Atilius and Fabius, that if they help her in her rebellion against Llywelyn ap Iorwerth, the last Prince of Gwynedd, then they shall receive great lands in the north once Rhos has become its own kingdom again. She is using the marriage of Tatius to her daughter to inspire her army of Welshmen because her daughter will be a great countess and have access to the de Shera armies to support the rebellion. My lord, I greatly fear for Tatius. He is the Earl of Ellesmere but he is not strong enough to stand against Atilius and Fabius. They control the armies and they are siding with Nesta. Their greed is limitless.”
Edward’s jaw was hanging open by now as the point to all of this came into focus. “Are you telling me that they are planning a rebellion in the north of Wales using de Shera troops? English troops?”
“Aye, my lord, that is exactly what I am telling you.”
“When?”
“Nesta’s daughter is due to arrive any day now.”
Edward stared at him. “And Tatius is just sending us word now?”
“He has only come to realize it as of late, my lord.”
Edward remained fixed on him a moment longer before quickly standing up. “Come with me.”
Antoninus did. Edward was walking very fast and Antoninus had to practically run to keep up with him.
They headed across the dusty bailey towards the main entry of Lioncross.
Unlike most castles, with keeps in the center of a bailey and numerous outbuildings supporting the castle functions, Lioncross had one enormous structure in the middle of the bailey that took up most of it except for a training field to the south.
The keep itself contained the hall and two big wings, including living quarters, guest quarters, various other chambers, and kitchens.
The builders of Lioncross must have assumed that the enormous walls and lake-like moat were enough protection, because the entrance was on the ground level, with big stone steps that led to the entry door.
It was through this massive, fortified door that Antoninus followed Edward, into a cool foyer with two sets of mural stairs, and with the two-level great hall straight ahead.
In fact, there were men in the great hall, sitting at the end of one of the feasting tables, and Edward walked right up to them.
In truth, Antoninus was somewhat hiding behind Edward, not wanting to be intruding into whatever Edward had brought him to.
But Edward spoke up right away to the men at the table.
“Chris,” he said, pulling Antoninus out from behind him. “This is Antoninus de Shera, the Earl of Ellesmere’s youngest brother. He has just told me something I think you should hear.”
A very big man with sky-blue eyes, a neat blond beard, and trim blond hair that was combed back over his skull looked up, noting Antoninus.
Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and Worcester, eyed the young man, though not unkindly.
There was great curiosity there, but there was also some irritation.
“Is that so?” he said, looking at Antoninus. “It must be important to interrupt my conference.”