Shadowmoor (de Lohr Dynasty #6) (34 page)

Caston heard the shouting but rather than continue on into the stable yard where ten of his men were waiting, where Brynner and Bramley would no-doubt follow and create a scene, he came to a halt. His men in the yard saw him, however, and he motioned the men to him with a jerk of his head. If he was going to confront Bramley and the brother he’d heard so much horror about, he wanted to have reinforcements and he wanted to do it in the open area of the avenue. He found himself praying that Daniel would at least keep Liselotte out of sight. This was about her, after all.

All of it.

Gunnar, seeing his brother, became terrified. He turned to Caston, grabbing on to the man.

“Let us go,” he said. “We must get away from him!”

Caston set the boy down, calmly, and handed him off to his nearest soldier. “Get the boy out of here,” he said. “Hide him. Go!”

The soldier fled, pulling Gunnar behind him. Meanwhile, Brynner was heading in his direction, wondering why an unfamiliar soldier was running off with his little brother. He pointed at Caston and then at the soldier running off with Gunnar.

“Who are you?” he demanded again. “Bring my brother back here!”

Caston shook his head. “Alas, I cannot,” he said. “You are Brynner l’Audacieux.”

Brynner came to a halt, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “How do you know that?” he asked. “Tell me who you are this instant.”

Caston regarded the man a moment. He looked like someone had just dredged him from a great swampy hole. He was worn, dirty, disheveled, and reeked of urine and alcohol. He was a horrific example of a man, worse than Caston had imagined he would look.

“You do not need to know who I am,” Caston said. “Suffice it to say that it looks as if everything I have been told about you is true.”

Brynner’s features twisted in outrage. “Who
are
you, you bastard?” he hissed. “What have you done with my little brother? I have men at my disposal to go and find him, so you had better give him to me unless you want a battle on your hands.”

“What battle would that be?”

Daniel strolled up behind Caston, calm and cool. His gaze was riveted to Brynner, who was, by now, attracting the attention of Bramley’s men, including Bramley himself. For the moment, however, Daniel was only fixed on Brynner.

Animosity filled the air.

“The last time I saw you, you had just murdered your father,” Daniel said because Brynner seemed somewhat speechless to see him. “I was hoping you had run off and died somewhere.”

Brynner looked at Daniel in shock. De Lohr was the last person he had expected to see on this day. “
You!
” he gasped. “You… you thieving canker! I want my fortress back!”

Daniel was amused by the man’s outrage. “We cannot always have what we want, dear boy,” he said condescendingly. “You had best forget about Shadowmoor. It is no longer your concern.”

“Why should he forget it?” Bramley came up behind Brynner. The man already had a sword in his hand, ready to launch an offensive at the sight of a man he very much wanted vengeance upon. “Shadowmoor is his fortress and you, de Lohr, are a thief. I have already sent word to Henry about what you have done. We shall see what he has to say about it.”

Daniel smiled thinly. “Lord Bramley,” he greeted steadily. “Or Roland Fitzroy, whatever you are calling yourself these days. I see that the Slime of the Earth has allied himself with the King of the Drunkards. How fitting.”

Bramley’s face turned red. “I will cut your tongue out one of these days,” he growled. “Your insults will be at an end, de Lohr. I will take great delight in killing you myself!”

Daniel only grew more amused. “Delusional men are always so entertaining,” he said, glancing at Caston, who was smirking at the comment. “Lord Bramley, mayhap I should tell you that I have sent word to my uncle, Christopher de Lohr, who commands the entire Welsh Marches. I already told you who my uncle is, but I will repeat myself and refresh your memory. My uncle knows about you and what you have done to starve out Shadowmoor, and he also knows that your drunken ally, Sir Brynner, killed his own father. He is much closer to West Yorkshire than Henry is so I would expect we will see my uncle very shortly. Then, it will be I who will take great delight in tearing down your castle and cutting
your
tongue out. You and men like you are an affront to decent people and must be eradicated. Your reign of cruelty is at an end.”

Bramley stepped forward, in front of Brynner, even though la Londe and de Witt, who were standing with him, tried to stop him. Bramley wouldn’t listen to anyone. He pointed his sword at Daniel.

“I am rousing the countryside against you,” he declared. “You will not be laughing when I join forces with Netherghyll and even Skipton and run you out of Shadowmoor. If I were you, I would swiftly leave because if you remain, it will only mean your death. I am giving you fair warning.”

Daniel lifted his eyebrows. “Netherghyll?” he repeated slowly.

Bramley nodded firmly. “That is what I said,” he snapped. “I am going there now to seek the Lord of Netherghyll’s assistance against you and your unlawful holding of Shadowmoor. We will chase you out of West Yorkshire altogether!”

Daniel was greatly amused by Bramley’s plan. “
Netherghyll,
you say?”

Bramley snapped. “Are you deaf?”

Daniel scratched his chin casually. “I may be deaf, but you are certainly dumb,” he said, looking at Caston. “The man said Netherghyll.”

Caston shook his head with disgust, focusing on Bramley. “You wanted to know who I was,” he said to the man. “I am Sir Caston de Royans of Netherghyll Castle. My father is Baron Cononley and we are allies of Shadowmoor and Daniel de Lohr. If you set one foot on my father’s property, he will send his entire army after you and I promise you that you will not survive. Then we’ll bury your body and the bodies of all your men and erase any trace of you from this earth. If Henry asks, we will say we have never seen you. Is this in any way unclear?”

Bramley was taken aback. He was also quite embarrassed. He looked at Brynner accusingly. “You did not know who this man was?”

Brynner was looking at Caston with horror. “I have never seen him before,” he said. “I told you that I did not know those at Netherghyll.”

“You should have known!”

“I told you that I did not!”

Now they were starting to argue between then, a shameful thing, indeed, but Bramley was unable to control his embarrassment. He began to shout, and shove, and the sword he had in his hand was waving about wildly. Threatened, Caston and Daniel unsheathed their broadswords, as did Caston’s men. They were waiting for the charge.

With the Netherghyll soldiers all assembled, those who had accompanied Daniel and those who had remained in the livery, the odds against Bramley’s men were even. As people in the street began to scatter, sensing a very big fight coming, Bramley marched in Daniel’s direction and swung his sword near the man’s head. Infuriated, Daniel grabbed the man by the collar and hit him right in the face with the hilt of his sword.

After that, the battle was on.

People screamed and ran as the two sides came together in a great clash. With Bramley on the ground, he was getting trampled but the problem was that Daniel wouldn’t let anyone get to him to help him stand. He stood over, and on, Bramley as la Londe and de Witt charged him, trying to get to their liege, but Daniel refused to move.

Caston was at his side and between the two of them, they very effectively contained la Londe and de Witt. But then the daggers came out when the broadswords proved ineffective and when Daniel wasn’t standing on Bramley, he was using his feet and fists to dislodge the dagger that la Londe held. Caston disarmed de Witt and hit the man in the head hard enough to knock him unconscious. With de Witt down, Caston turned his attention to la Londe.

The shaggy Bramley knight was overwhelmed by Daniel and Caston, who went at him with a vengeance. At one point, Bramley tried to get to his feet when Daniel was distracted with la Londe, but when Daniel saw Bramley trying to rise, he kneed the man in the head and sent him back to the dirt, dazed. With Bramley and de Witt down, Caston subdued la Londe and Daniel went after Brynner.

Brynner was not armed but he was fighting a fairly good fistfight against a Netherghyll soldier. Daniel came up behind him and threw him in a headlock, dragging him to the outskirts of the battle. Squeezing the man with his big arm, he rumbled into his ear.

“You evidently did not hear me the first time when I told you that if I saw you again, I would kill you,” he said. Then, he released Brynner by throwing the man to the ground. As Brynner struggled to stand up, Daniel snatched a sword from the nearest soldier and tossed it to Brynner. “Now you are armed so this is a fair fight. Let us get on with this because you are hardly worthy of my skills or my time.”

Brynner stood there, looking at Daniel with more contempt than Daniel had ever seen. But behind that contempt was a great deal of sorrow and shame, a maelstrom of emotions that weren’t necessarily directed at Daniel. It was simply the turmoil that was being battered about, like flotsam, in Brynner’s soul.

“There was a time when I was unbeatable with a broadsword,” he told Daniel. “I should have probably told you that before you gave me a weapon.”

Daniel lifted his sword offensively. “It does not matter,” he said. “I will make short work of you no matter how great you think you are.”

Brynner snorted, with some irony. He looked at the sword, a short-blade sword usually used by men-at-arms. It had been the first time he’d held a sword since he’d given his up those years ago. Since he’d sold it, just like his horse, to pay for his drink. Now that he held it in his hand, he felt somewhat different. Memories swamped him.

“I know you believe I am a drunken fool and you are not far wrong,” he said, “but there was a time when I served Okehampton with my sword. That was years ago, but I was quite good.”

Daniel was about to charge the man but something in his tone made him pause. “You served at Okehampton?” he asked, unable to conceal his doubt. “Hugh de Courtnay?”

Brynner nodded. “I did, indeed,” he said, holding up the sword to inspect it. “I am a knight, like you. I was one of de Courtnay’s captains. I had prestige and money. I had a great deal. I was even part of the contingent that de Courtnay sent to support Richard Marshal against Hubert de Burgh a few years ago when de Burgh was accused of squandering royal money, so you see, de Lohr, that I have not always been as you see. I was great, once.”

Daniel had to admit that his opinion of Brynner changed slightly after that speech. The House of de Courtnay, rulers of Okehampton Castle, were a very fine family and known for their military acumen and the conflict he had spoken of, against Hubert de Burgh, was something his uncle had mediated in. If Brynner had been part of that situation, then that gave him some credibility. Of course, he could have been lying, but Daniel didn’t think so. There was something in the man’s eyes that suggested he was being honest, perhaps for the first time in a very long while. Daniel frowned.

“Then what happened to you?” he asked. “What happened that you should drown yourself in drink and ally yourself with the likes of Bramley?”

Brynner features were full of irony. “It does not matter any longer.”

“It might make a difference in whether or not I ram my broadsword through your belly. Tell me what happened to you.”

Brynner eyed him a moment before shrugging. He was fairly certain he couldn’t hold off Daniel if the man was truly intent on killing him and, to tell the truth, he wasn’t all that afraid to die. But something in holding a sword again, any sword, brought back memories he thought he’d long buried.

“A woman,” he said after a moment. “She was to marry me but chose another on the eve of our marriage. Life was not worth living after that. Now that you know, call me pathetic and do whatever it is you plan to do. But know that, once, I was a good knight. I could have given you a good fight under the proper circumstances.”

Daniel lowered his sword completely. The look on his face straddled the line between irritation and disbelief. “A woman?” he repeated. “You let yourself fall apart over a woman?”

“Aye.”

At least he was honest about it. As the battle went on around them, Daniel found himself in the midst of a very odd conversation with a man he had sworn to kill, for Liselotte’s sake. The man had murdered his own father. But the conversation with Brynner had opened Daniel’s eyes to a great many things.

In fact, for the first time in his life, he understood the pain behind Brynner’s statement – not being able to have the woman he loved. Daniel thought of Liselotte and what he would do if he was unable to have her. It was then that he began to realize that whatever he was feeling for her, the strength of what was in his heart, surely must have been love.

It could be nothing else.

From the wanderer who swore there was no woman on earth that he would ever fall in love with, it was a shocking realization. Confusion began to swamp him.

“Then you must have loved her a great deal,” he finally said.

Brynner nodded, still looking at the sword. “I did.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what to do now. The man had confessed his demons to him, or at least the root of the issue, and Daniel was torn about the situation. He was also swept up in his own personal turmoil. Perhaps Brynner had reasons for being the way he was and, to Daniel, there was always something redeemable about a man. Especially a knight. Perhaps in loving the man’s sister, Daniel could understand what had driven Brynner to this point in his life. Surely there was no greater sorrow than a love unreturned. But his indecision to deal with Brynner at the end of a sword changed when Brynner suddenly charged him.

For a drunkard, he was very fast, and Daniel barely had time to raise his weapon before Brynner was on him. In that split second, Daniel ducked down so that Brynner passed over the top of him and, in the same movement, brought his sword up into Brynner’s soft belly. He felt it when his sword penetrated Brynner’s torso, cutting through the man, cutting deep. Brynner collapsed, mostly on Daniel, and the two of them tumbled over.