Chapter Fifteen
Guildford Castle
Thirteen days after the hasty departure from Erith Castle, the soaring keep of Guildford came into view.
Seated in her carriage playing a card game from a deck of lovely painted cards that Brandt had purchased for her in the larger berg of Warrington about a week prior, Ellowyn heard the shouts of the men as their home was finally within sight.
Sticking her head out of the window, she caught sight of the big white keep on the horizon, a pale-looking mountain against the deep blue sky.
Cards still in hand, she looked around for the nearest knight. There was always a knight riding near her coach, usually her husband, but today he was at the head of the column. She spied Magnus and waved him over.
“Is that Guildford?” she asked, pointing to the sight in the distance.
De Reyne nodded his helmed head. “Indeed, Lady de Russe,” he said. “We will be there within the hour.”
She shielded her eyes from the sun. “It seems so far away,” she murmured. Then she removed her hand and looked at Magnus. “Do you think that Brennan and Alex have reached their homes yet?”
St. Hèver and Alex de Lara had been sent to their respective father’s holdings almost two weeks before to seek men and material for Brandt’s return to France.
Their absences had been felt, mostly by Ellowyn who had become friendly with Brennan.
He would talk to her as they rode along keeping her company when Brandt could not.
The other knights just seemed to keep a polite distance with her.
With the big, blond knight missing, she had been rather lonely.
“I am sure they arrived at their destinations several days ago,” Magnus replied. “In fact, I would not be surprised if they were already on their way to Guildford.”
“How many men do you suppose they will be bringing?”
Magnus shrugged. “That is difficult to say,” he replied. “The Duke of Carlisle has an enormous complement of men, but he is close to the Scots border and does not like to diminish his strength. The same can be said for the Earl of Wrexham on the Welsh Marches.”
She was thoughtful. “Then perhaps my husband will need to solicit men elsewhere.”
“That is a distinct possibility, my lady.”
Ellowyn thought on the fact that Brandt might need to spend more time in England before heading back to France and the thought did not displease her. As she pondered that possibility, she began looking around, taking an interest in the landscape for the first time in days.
“It seems as if I have been caged in this coach for years,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun again. “I have not paid much attention to the lands we have passed through. It seems rather flat around here, does it not?”
Magnus looked around, too. “You come from land that has many mountains and valleys,” he said. “Compared to that, it is indeed rather flat around here. You have never been this far south?”
She shook her head. “I have been to London, of course, but never this far south. The castle rather looks like a mountain amongst all of this flat land.”
Magnus wriggled his eyebrows. “Do not let this land deceive you. It is very rich soil. The farmers make a small fortune off of their crops, which in turn makes the duke a very wealthy man.”
Ellowyn simply nodded, watching closely as the village surrounding Guildford came into view.
She could see a church, built from pale stone in a squat and powerful design, and the cloister surrounding it.
There were people out tending the fields, beasts of burden pulling plows as the serfs toiled in the dirt.
The weather was very moderate. In fact, it was rather warm and there were few clouds in the vibrant sky.
The ground didn’t seem to be saturated with too much rain as the land she came from tended to be, but the fields and hedges were very green and overgrown.
On the edge of the town, the gutters were full of muck as they drew closer to the areas of human habitation.
With the warmth of the day, the smell of urine and feces wafted in the air now and again.
Children ran about with their friends, playing games, while other children hauled buckets or accomplished tasks for their masters.
There were a great many people milling about and Ellowyn put her cards away to watch the comings and goings.
She was so involved, in fact, that she hardly noticed when the column came to a halt.
She only noticed when de Reyne slammed his faceplate shut and bolted in the direction of the castle.
Suddenly, men were shouting in chorus and the carriage was turned around, nearly tipping it at the speed in which it was moving, and making haste away from the castle.
The cards scattered, and Ellowyn held on for dear life.
*
Hours later, the town was vacant and people were in hiding as the sun began to set on a bright and glorious day. A half mile from Guildford Castle, Brandt had set up a small encampment but it wasn’t meant for rest. It was in preparation for a battle.
Ellowyn sat in Brandt’s tent with her cards, her possessions, and her husband’s material comforts.
The flat copper disc was once again called into service and it sat in the middle of the tent, raised on stones, and burning a small pile of wood for warmth.
Smoke escaped through the hatch in the room.
It was the same tent she had stayed in nearly every night, with rare exception, for almost three weeks.
She and the tent were friends now. A boring friend, but a comfort nonetheless. She was thinking on giving it a name.
Seated on a heavy rug atop the ground, she lay her cards out absently, playing a solitary game, before losing track of what she was doing and collecting the cards, only to shuffle them out again.
She knew something was going on but no one had come to tell her what it was.
She knew it had something to do with the castle but beyond that, she had no idea.
Boredom was settling heavy on her and she was thinking of putting her cards away altogether when she heard voices close by.
One of the voices was Brandt. He was giving a directive to someone, more than likely Dylan. The two men were practically inseparable. Ellowyn watched the tent flap with anticipation, cards still in her hands, waiting for Brandt to make an appearance. She didn’t have to wait long.
He blew into the shelter, slapping back the tent flap so violently that he nearly pulled half the tent down. Ellowyn put her arms over her head as the tent lurched dangerously but Brandt managed to steady it. When Ellowyn finally lowered her arms and looked at him, he smiled sheepishly.
“Greetings,” he said softly, perhaps wearily. He let go of the supporting pole and made his way towards her. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
He pulled off his helmet with a heavy sigh, tossing it onto the pile of his possessions. “Good,” he muttered, scratching his scalp as he faced her. “Then we may at least share a meal together. Considering I have not seen you all day, I am grateful for whatever time I can spend with you.”
Ellowyn watched the man, his exhausted movements, his pale and shadowed face. He stood there, pulling off his gauntlets as she watched him closely. His expression was hard, his eyes distant.
“What is the matter?” she asked softly. “Why are we here and not within the walls of Guildford Castle?”
Brandt tossed the gloves down and rubbed at his eyes.
“Because it would seem that Arundel is occupying my castle,” he said, looking at her.
“He says that the king asked him to garrison my property while I was in France but I know that to be a lie. I have given him until the sun sets to be off the grounds.”
“Or what?”
He sighed again. “Or I will lay siege and kill every one of Arundel’s men,” he said. Then, he grunted ironically. “Fitzalan and I have fought together, many times. I know the man. He thought perhaps that I would not return from France and set about staking his claim early for my holdings.”
Ellowyn was confused by the entire situation. “Is he your enemy, then?”
Brandt shook his head. “He is a greedy bastard. His father and my father had a tenuous relationship and the son carries on the tradition. He occupies my castle while I am away, takes my revenue, rapes my lands….” He righted a stool that had been lying near his bedroll and planted it next to where Ellowyn was sitting.
He plopped on it heavily. “When I docked in London, I had over two thousand men with me. When we departed for Erith, I sent three-quarters of my men here with sixteen of my lesser knights. Arundel’s commander tells me that when the army tried to return to Guildford, he sent them to one of my lesser castles at Farnborough.
De Reyne and several soldiers ride there now to collect them and bring them back here.
I have sent le Bec to Canterbury for reinforcements. ”
Ellowyn cocked her head. “You are allied with Canterbury?”
He nodded. “The House of de Russe and the House of de Lohr has long been allied,” he replied, rubbing at his eyes again before refocusing on her.
“James de Lohr, the Earl of Canterbury, is a friend. Le Bec can make it to Canterbury in a few days, but we cannot expect reinforcements from de Lohr for a couple of weeks at the earliest. I am therefore hoping that Arundel’s commander obeys my directive and vacates my castle by the dictated time. ”
Ellowyn gazed up at him as he rubbed his eyes again.
The man was so very weary, burdened by days and months and years of strife.
She began to think back to moments when she had seen her father weary or in particular pain, and how her mother had rubbed away the worries and the ache.
It always seemed to work for her father.
Perhaps it would work with Brandt. She felt strongly that she needed to do something for the man. He appeared edgy and brittle.