Chapter Nineteen #3
Addax sighed heavily, hanging his head with the short but very plausible story.
As the magistrate in Penrith had presumed, Maximilian had ended up in the river—only somehow, he’d washed onto the bank rather than drowned.
He was found by the tavern keeper and brought to Appleby, where he’d been recovering for the past several months.
Indeed, Maximilian de Grey was alive.
The knots in Addax’s stomach were getting worse.
“What happened to him?” he managed to ask.
The tavern keeper shrugged. “Someone beat him,” he said. “They broke his skull and left him for dead, I suppose. He is blind in one eye, but he’s strong. He can work. He is the best kind of worker because he cannot complain. But why the questions? Do you know who he is?”
Adonis started to nod, but Addax stopped him. “I am not certain,” he lied, mostly because he didn’t want the tavern keep to try to ransom Maximilian if he knew that he was the Earl of Bretherdale. “I thought I might have recognized him, but now I am not certain.”
The tavern keeper looked back at Maximilian before shrugging. “Gorach!” he called to him. When Maximilian looked up at him, the tavern keep waved him over. “Come here. Hurry, lad.”
Maximilian had never obeyed an order in his life, or, at the very least, he obeyed them with some reluctance.
He’d never been a man who liked to be pushed around.
But he obeyed the tavern keeper as if God himself had given him the order, shuffling over to where the man was standing.
Addax could see that he was limping. In fact, there was so much he could see about him that was wrong.
It may have looked like Maximilian de Grey, but it wasn’t.
Not as Maximilian used to be. But the tavern keep’s explanation cleared up nearly all of the confusion.
Maximilian couldn’t speak, he didn’t know who or what he was, and he’d ended up in a village where no one had recognized him.
Yet.
That was the key factor in all of this.
“Gorach,” the tavern keeper said, indicating Addax. “Do you know this man?”
Maximilian looked Addax in the face. Addax found himself looking back, holding his breath, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, but Maximilian simply stared at him. There was nothing in those eyes that was warm or even kind.
It was just a blank stare.
“Think,” Addax said to him. “Think back to the people you have known. Do you recognize me?”
Maximilian continued to stare at him. There were several long moments where he seemed to tilt his head as if almost remembering but not quite.
Addax looked at him, straight on, wondering if some distant memory might be jogged.
The broken skull had obviously affected everything about him—his memory, his eyesight, the way he moved.
One side of his face was even droopy, so the damage he suffered had been great.
Addax found himself feeling sorry for the Maximilian he used to know, but not the man he had turned into once he married Emmeline. He didn’t pity that man at all.
He wished that man had stayed dead.
After staring at Addax for what seemed like hours but in reality was only a minute or two, Maximilian simply turned away and headed back to his task of swabbing the wagon bed. The tavern keeper, Addax, and Adonis watched him go before the tavern keeper returned his attention to Addax.
“I would say he doesn’t know you,” he said. “But I think you know him and won’t tell me. Who is he?”
Addax was still looking at Maximilian as the man picked up a rag and resumed washing the wagon. “As I said, I’m not sure,” he told the tavern keeper. “But I’ll be back. Make sure he does not go anywhere.”
The tavern keep shrugged and headed back inside his establishment as Addax and Adonis turned away. They headed out into the busy street.
“Well?” Adonis said. “What are you going to do?”
Addax shook his head, struggling to stay logical about the situation. Heartbreak didn’t cover half of what he was feeling. He was terrified to tell Emmeline, terrified of her reaction.
All he could feel was devastation.
“I do not know,” he said honestly, pausing as they reached the opposite side of the street. His gaze moved to the busy tavern. “He is alive, but he does not know who he is. But that does not mean someone who knew him will not recognize him and tell the tavern keeper.”
“You did not tell him who he was,” he said. “Why not?”
Addax cocked a dark eyebrow. “Tell the man that his mute servant is none other than the Earl of Bretherdale?” he said. “If he tries to ransom him, or worse, it will be a horrific mess, and one I do not wish to engage in, so it is best not to tell him. For now, let him think what he will.”
Adonis scratched his head. “And Emmeline?” he said quietly. “What about her?”
Addax sighed faintly. “I will have to tell her.”
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
Adonis looked at him. “I’ve known the lady for several years now,” he said softly.
“I am not a fool. I know you were in love with her when she first married Maximilian. I know she was in love with you. It was a sad situation, I will admit. I will further admit that I never liked de Grey. He was selfish and vile. I would much rather see you married to her, Addax. If I may call you Addax. You are the husband she deserves.”
Addax smiled weakly. “While I appreciate that, the fact remains that her husband isn’t dead,” he said.
“He isn’t dead, but he does not know who he is.
Mayhap he never will. Do I leave him at the Scot’s Head and hope no one who knew him ever recognizes him?
Or do I bring the Earl of Bretherdale home?
If I do that, I cannot marry the woman I love. ”
Adonis was sympathetic. “But even if you marry her now, the marriage will not be valid,” he said. “With Maximilian still alive…”
Addax knew that. He simply couldn’t believe that his future happiness was in the balance at the moment, not to mention Emmeline’s.
He found himself praying his brother would show up, because he needed Essien’s guidance.
He wasn’t sure he could make the correct choice here, because he was more than willing to leave Maximilian at that tavern.
But as a man of honor, he knew he couldn’t.
Honor that would cost him the love of his life.
“The honorable thing would be to bring him home,” he said hoarsely. “But I must… I must speak with Emmy and tell her what has happened. We must make that decision together.”
Adonis understood. “I am sorry you must. I truly am.”
So was Addax. Resigned, and depressed, he shook his head. “I do not feel much like going to the goldsmith today,” he muttered. “Find the escort and have them report back to the carriage. I just want to go… home.”
There was nothing else he could do, and they both knew it. Perhaps that was the bitterest pill of all. As Addax turned in the direction he had come from, he heard Adonis’ soft voice.
“Wait,” he said. “Addax… look.”
Addax turned to see what had the man’s attention, and he could see Maximilian standing at the edge of the road, looking over at him.
There were people between them, going about their business, but Maximilian was staring straight at him.
Addax simply stood there, watching and waiting, wondering what was going through Maximilian’s mind.
He wondered if Maximilian had suddenly remembered him and was trying to figure out how and where and why.
As Addax continued to watch with some apprehension, Maximilian began to cross the street toward him.
He lifted an arm, pointing at him, as he walked.
But then he stopped in the middle of the street and lowered his hand. His mouth began to work.
Addax was on pins and needles as one word came forth out of Maximilian’s mouth.
“Ahhhhd,” he said loudly.
Ad. That was what he used to call Addax. Next to Addax, Adonis gasped.
“My God,” he breathed. “He knows you. He knows!”
Addax was staring at Maximilian. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
He didn’t know whether to cry or run. As he stood there, debating what to do and how his life was going to change from now on, a runaway horse and wagon tore down the street, straight for Maximilian.
Addax was looking at him one moment, and in the next, he was gone.
The horse and wagon had plowed right into him.
People were screaming and scattering to safety as the wagon went another few feet before breaking an axle and tipping over.
The driver was thrown out, and the harnessed horses became tangled up with the twisted wagon behind them and couldn’t go any further.
Men were running out to grab the horses and help the driver, and Addax could see Maximilian crumpled underneath the tipped wagon.
He and Adonis rushed forward, grabbing a few of the men who had spilled out of the Scot’s Head to see what the screaming was about, and ordering them to lift the wagon. Six or seven of them lifted it, including Adonis, as Addax slid Maximilian out from underneath it.
There was no doubt that the man was dead.