Shadowmoor (de Lohr Dynasty #6) (41 page)

But that would be a bit trickier to achieve. Even Bramley knew how powerful the House of de Lohr was and how important they were to Henry. Bramley didn’t really think Henry would punish the de Lohr brothers but Bramley was going to see to it that the de Lohr who held Shadowmoor was punished. The man had usurped the command of the fortress and taken what did not belong to him. That was grounds for punishment, indeed.

They were all fantasy scenarios that Bramley worked up in his mind as they approached Shadowmoor, a world where he could take what he wanted and punish whom he pleased. He was a bit of a madman that way and all of his men knew it, for it was all about revenge for Bramley. After the beating de Lohr had dealt him in Siglesdene those weeks ago, resulting in Brynner l’Audacieux’s death, vengeance was all he could speak of, only this time, he had Henry’s blessing.

No one, not even a de Lohr, would refuse the king.

So he rode up to the gates of Shadowmoor like a conquering hero, yelling at the men at the gate to produce de Lohr immediately. There was a good deal of hissing and scattering, men running about now that Bramley had made an appearance. He knew they were rattled, which pleased him greatly. This moment was about to be a tremendous triumph for him and he was eager to savor every second of it.

But the men at the gates didn’t seem to be producing de Lohr fast enough and Bramley continued to shout at them. La Londe and de Witt even began to shout at them, with la Londe dismounting his horse and going right up to the gate to shout at the men inside. But the moment he went up to the gate and got a good look at the interior of Shadowmoor, he suddenly backed off. Eyes wide, he looked again and it was that second look that sent him rushing to Bramley’s side.

“My lord,” he hissed. “We may have a problem.”

Bramley frowned. “What problem?” he demanded. “There is no problem. Where is de Lohr?”

La Londe wouldn’t be brushed off so easily. “My lord,” he said again, more firmly. “The entire bailey is full of fighting me. It looks as if an army has come to Shadowmoor and is lodged within her bosom.”

Confusion rippled across Bramley’s features. “An army?” he repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Precisely that, my lord. There is a big army housed within Shadowmoor. I suggest we leave immediately.”

Bramley’s confusion turned to shock. “But… how can that be?” he asked. “You have been patrolling Shadowmoor and the surrounding areas. How could an army slip by you and into Shadowmoor?”

La Londe was very, very nervous. “We have only had a few patrols out,” he said, running his hand through his dirty hair. “Because we know de Lohr has gone to Siglesdene, we have only been concentrating on the east side of the moor. We’ve not run a patrol along the west side in a week at the very least. It is very possible that they came from that direction and we simply didn’t see them.”

Bramley looked at the man, dumbfounded. “What do you mean you have only run a few patrols?” he asked. “That was not my order.”

It wasn’t. It had been la Londe who had ordered fewer patrols and now he was forced to explain himself. “We took a very bad beating in Siglesdene two weeks ago,” he said defensively. “If a patrol ran into de Lohr and his men, what then? Do we take another beating and lose more men? I ran fewer patrols simply to keep an eye on the activity at Shadowmoor whilst you sat in your solar and drank. Running more patrols would not have prevented an army from reaching Shadowmoor; it would simply have gotten us all captured, or worse.”

Bramley was beginning to grow angry. “I have been waiting for Henry’s reply these past weeks,” he said, defending himself for the fact that he had gotten drunk every day since the events at Siglesdene, ashamed of the beating he had taken and certain that he was back to the beginning as far as trying to gain control of Shadowmoor. “I did not give you permission to run fewer patrols.”

La Londe looked at him in disgust. He was only serving the man because he was a mercenary and Bramley paid him well. He didn’t have to like him. “Be that as it may, my lord, there is an army inside of Shadowmoor,” he said. “I suggest we leave very quickly.”

Bramley nearly refused. It was on the tip of his tongue. But then he looked around at the men he’d brought with him and there weren’t nearly enough to stand up to an army. Torn, and growing nervous because la Londe was nervous, he was about to give an order to retreat when he heard commotion at Shadowmoor’s old iron gate. He turned just in time to see de Lohr standing there, on the other side of the gate. And there were heavily-armed men with him.

“I am surprised to see you here, Bramley,” he said, “or Roland. Or Fitzroy. Or whatever you want me to call you. What do you want?”

Daniel always had a knack for greeting Bramley in the most humiliating way possible. Embarrassed, Bramley’s anger returned.

“You will not be so smug when I tell you why I have come,” he said. “You would be wise to vacate Shadowmoor now, de Lohr. Make it easy on yourself.”

Daniel simply looked at the man through the iron grate. “
What
do you want?”

It was that question again. Inflamed, Bramley bailed off his horse and stumbled, looking like an idiot when he fell to one knee. Standing up, he brushed off his knee and stomped over to his saddlebag, untying the sack and pulling forth a large, yellowed roll of vellum. Holding it tightly, he stomped over to the gate, remaining out of arm’s reach. La Londe and de Witt were close behind him as he held up the missive.

“Get a good look at this, de Lohr,” he said. “This will change your life today. This is a message from Henry. In it, he declares that Shadowmoor belongs to me, as does Lady Liselotte. By royal decree, she is now my betrothed. Unless you want royal troops here to lay siege to Shadowmoor, I suggest you vacate the fortress immediately.”

Daniel didn’t change expression but his hand came out from the iron bars. “Let me see it.”

Bramley took a step towards him, unrolling it. “Look at it,” he said, holding it up for Daniel to see. “Read his words and note his royal seal. Ah, you were so very smug with your thievery of Shadowmoor, but no longer. It now officially belongs to me and I want you out. And where is my bride? If you have compromised her, I will have you brought up on charges of thievery!”

Daniel could see the words on the vellum and he could, indeed, see the royal seal. After the events of the previous night, after declaring his love for Liselotte, it had been a glorious evening and an even more glorious morning. He’d awoken early in spite of the fact that he’d had too much to drink the night before, dressing quickly and heading to the kitchen where he knew Liselotte would be. She had been helping the cook with the bread dough but she had spared Daniel a few moments of her time and a sweet good morning kiss.

It had been one of the best mornings of his life as he’d watched her work in the kitchen, thinking all the while that she now belonged to him. Finally, a woman he could love.

Someone that belonged utterly to him, and he to her.

But now, it seemed that glorious morning might be in jeopardy, at least somewhat. As he looked at the vellum, several things came to mind, not the least of which was killing Bramley and all of his men and disposing of the bodies as if they had never existed. Bramley was threatening his happiness and he didn’t consider the measures to prevent that too drastic. He struggled not to appear shocked or off-balance by the missive that very much looked like the real thing.

He refused to believe it.

“You could have easily forged that, Bramley Roland Fitzroy,” he said. “You have had enough time since the last time I saw you to forge a document of this type. Do you really expect me to believe you?”

Bramley scowled. “You must believe me, for this is real,” he insisted, taking another step closer to the grate while still holding up the vellum. “Look at it! That is Henry’s stamp!”

“Another forgery.”

“Are you so much the fool?”

He had gotten too close and Daniel reached out, as fast as lightning, and snatched the missive from him. As Bramley yelped with surprise, Daniel yanked the vellum inside the iron bars where he and Caston and Maddoc inspected it closely. They moved away from the grate so Bramley couldn’t hear them as they looked over the official document, dissecting every inch of it.

“That is Henry’s seal,” Maddoc said quietly. “I have seen it many times.”

Daniel nodded. “As have I,” he murmured, his heart sinking. “Damn Bramley! Is it possible that the man really does have some connection to Henry? I had been hoping all along that he had been lying.”

Caston was reading the contents of the missive over Daniel’s shoulder. “You are ordered by royal command to surrender Shadowmoor and Lady Liselotte to Roland Fitzroy, Lord Bramley,” he read aloud. “The lands, property, and lady rightfully belong to him and you are ordered to comply.”

Daniel drew in a deep pensive breath as he drank in the words; suddenly, the morning had turned very bad, indeed. He knew, as he lived and breathed, that this had been sent from Henry and a royal missive was not meant to be disobeyed. It was a terrible turn of events in the battle for Shadowmoor and even as he read the words that had been carefully drawn by a royal scribe, he knew that he would not comply.

There was no doubt in his mind.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully as he passed the missive over to Maddoc. “Let us discuss our options. I have no intention of complying so we can do one of two things; either kill Bramley and all of his men and declare we never saw the missive, or we can simply refuse to believe this is from Henry.”

Maddoc’s gaze lingered on the vellum. “I am in favor killing the man and everyone connected with him,” he said. “If you refuse to believe this is from Henry, he will simply send the king another missive to that effect and Henry will send an army up here to lay siege. However, if Henry receives nothing from Bramley, ever again, he will assume that the situation has resolved itself. Truthfully, Danny – this is a very tiny battle in a reign that has been full of them. I cannot imagine Henry will give this situation any more consideration than this missive.”

Daniel pondered that. “If we eliminate Bramley, then we are not directly disobeying a royal decree.”

“Nay, we are not.”

“We are simply eliminating the source of friction.”

“Amazing how your mind works.”

Daniel smiled humorlessly at Maddoc before turning to Caston. “If we do this, you will not be involved,” he said. “You will take your Netherghyll troops and go home. I do not want you implicated in anything.”

Caston looked surprised. “I am not going anywhere,” he said stubbornly. “I am part of this whether or not you like it.”

“I do
not
like it. You and your father have been far too good to Shadowmoor for you to be pulled into any murder plot. This is something I must do and I cannot let you assume any blame. Please, Caston; go home.”

Caston shook his head. “I will not,” he said firmly. “Until I met you and became involved with Shadowmoor, I had been leading a fairly useless life. I was helping my father manage his lands, delivering missives for him, and other worthless things. I am at Netherghyll because my brother is not; I have no choice. Brighton left to find fame and fortune, leaving me behind to tend lands that will become his upon my father’s death. I have been working all of these years for something that will not even be mine. It is a desolate feeling, I assure you. But when I met you and became involved in Shadowmoor, I felt like I was doing something good, as if I had found a sense of purpose. In a sense, Shadowmoor is mine just as much as it is yours. I will not leave something I have worked hard to rebuild, much the same as you feel. So do not ask me again to leave because I will not. I will fight for Shadowmoor until the very end.”

“You would fight for a fortress that does not belong to you?”

“I would fight for my friends.”

Daniel was touched by his speech, glancing over at Maddoc to see how he was reacting. Caston had brought up Brighton and that was always a great source of uneasiness, especially to Maddoc. He tried to read the man’s expression.

Daniel hadn’t had the chance to speak to Maddoc since his arrival yesterday with regards to Caston, or his feelings on the man, but Daniel had seen Maddoc’s interaction with him the night before and it seemed that he harbored no aversion or ill-will towards Caston in spite of Maddoc’s relationship to the man’s brother. But he expected nothing less of Maddoc, for the man was more honorable than most. He’d done what Daniel had asked; he’d kept his mouth shut about Brighton, at least so far, and hadn’t judged Caston by his brother’s actions. Therefore, Daniel was interested to see how Maddoc would react to Caston’s declaration.

Of a declaration of undying friendship from the brother of the man he killed. It was as touching in nature as it was complicated.

And, truthfully, sad.

“Caston,” Daniel finally said. “Your motives are altruistic and true, but you do understand that by participating here, you could possibly bring Henry’s wrath upon you.”

“I understand.”

“And that does not concern you? Mayhap you should discuss it with your father.”

“My father would say the same thing.”

Daniel looked at Maddoc for support, but Maddoc was looking at Caston. Daniel wondered if, deep down, he was still seeing that man he’d killed when he looked at that man’s twin. It was hard to know what Maddoc was seeing, for his thoughts ran very still and very deep.

“Maddoc?” Daniel asked quietly. “What say you?”

Maddoc’s gaze lingered on Caston for a few moments. Truthfully, Daniel’s question was an interesting one, at least from his perspective. He still wasn’t over the shock of seeing a man who looked exactly like the man who had nearly taken his life last year, but in spending the previous evening with Caston and coming to know him slightly, he could already see that Caston was nothing like his brother had been.

Caston seemed thoughtful and honorable, as evidenced by his willingness to involve himself in a situation that could quite possibly get him into trouble with the king. Only a selfless man would say such a thing. Maddoc was starting to think that between Brighton and Caston, Caston was the only one who had inherited any good qualities.