Chapter Ten
Stephen sat at the high dais in what should have been Catarina’s seat. His shallow breaths filled his ears as he fought to block out Rupert’s voice. Even now Rupert stood in Henry’s place, addressing the Ravensworth castle guard.
“Catarina Redesdale is the daughter of an outlaw and a whore,” Rupert said, his voice booming.
Stephen’s stomach twisted. He clenched his fists to keep his hands in his lap when all he wanted to do was cover his ears and scream his protest to anyone who had ever loved Catarina.
He refused to believe her capable of the wickedness Rupert described, and yet, his eyes had seen the bloody poker and his own brother’s broken skull.
“She killed my brother, our lord and master, in cold blood,” Rupert shouted, his words echoed throughout the great hall.
“But she did not act alone. The Gospel of Matthew warns us of monk’s like Brother Augustine.
Matthew said to beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.”
Stephen slunk lower in his seat as members of the castle guard shouted slurs against Catarina, including some of Stephen’s closest friends—Jarrett, Aldwin, and even Edgar who had professed on several occasions to being secretly in love with the lady of Ravensworth.
“This wolf was sent to us by none other than Catarina’s father, the former Lord Redesdale—a man guilty of treason and a coward running from the law.
” Rupert pulled back his sleeve and thrust his bandaged arm beneath Stephen’s nose.
“I have felt the sting of his claws.” He then held up his arm for all to see.
“The very claws that stole one of our finest knights, your brother at arms, Sir Matthew Archard.”
The hall erupted with fresh jeers from the guard.
“And worst still, the she-devil and her wolf have kidnapped the heir of Ravensworth, my nephew, Nicholas.”
Stephen straightened in his seat at the mention of Nicholas.
He looked sidelong at his brother’s bandaged arm.
How could he deny Rupert’s truth? He witnessed the murders and suffered injury for his attempts to intervene.
How could Stephen deny Catarina’s role when Nicholas was missing?
His hands gripped the sides of his head against the fire of doubt burning his heart.
“Your lord will be avenged. Nicholas will be returned. Because I will hunt down Catarina and her monk and bring them to stand before King Edward.” Rupert’s promise was met with passionate support from all of the Ravensworth knights.
At that moment, the doors in the rear of the hall swung wide. Stephen’s chest tightened as Jasper, the castle dog handler, and his four bloodhounds entered.
“Come forward,” Rupert said eagerly. He stepped from the high dais and met Jasper in the middle of the great hall.
“These are your finest?” Rupert asked, looking over the dogs.
“Aye, Sir Rupert,” Jasper answered.
Rupert stiffened and narrowed his eyes. “I am your lord now. Just as you are master over these mutts so, too, am I master over you.”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Jasper said.
Although Jasper spoke words of repentance, Rupert did not feel satisfied.
There was an arrogance in the dog handler’s bearing most unfitting a serf.
But then again, if his animals proved worthy, Rupert might be more forgiving.
The dogs sat, alert but quiet, at Jasper’s feet.
“They appear docile,” Rupert said, gesturing to the hounds.
“I want animals trained to attack as well as track.”
Jasper reached down and scratched one of the hounds behind the ear. “This is Molly. She follows my command. The others follow her. If I command Molly to attack, ye can be sure she will.”
Rupert looked down at Molly. She was a black and tan with brown eyes, droopy jowls, and long ears. “What is the command to attack?” Rupert asked.
Jasper gathered the leashes, shortening their length before he said, “Finish it.”
“Finish it,” Rupert whispered to himself. Then he reached down to pet Molly, but she snarled and bared her teeth at him.
Rupert smiled. “Yes, I think they will do nicely.” Then he looked Jasper hard in the eye.
“Do not disappoint me,” he said, before turning on his heel and returning to the high dais.
His eyes settled on Stephen. He shook his head and looked out across the hall to his men.
“Look at how my poor brother mourns Henry’s passing.
Will we allow his murderers to go free?”
The men pounded their fists on the table, calling for action.
“Will you stand with me, brother?” Rupert said for Stephen’s ears alone. But Stephen’s eyes remained downcast. “For Henry,” Rupert insisted.
Stephen sat back in his chair. His face was drawn, his eyes red. “Do you swear upon all the sacraments that you speak naught but truth?”
Rupert clamped his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “You know I do.”
Stephen slowly stood. “Then I have no choice but to stand with you.”
Rupert’s confidence grew. He grabbed Stephen’s arms. “Thank ye, brother, for that is what we are, and nothing is more important than brotherhood.”