Spectre of the Sword (30 page)

It was her last coherent
thought before there was a sharp pain to the side of her head and the lights
went out.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Year of our Lord 1204, late February

Lioncross Abbey, the Welsh Marches

It was snowing heavily,
a February winter that had seen days upon days of snow. A very pregnant woman
with a thick, long mane of golden hair stood at one of the lancet windows in
her husband’s solar, the oilcloth peeled back so she could watch the bailey
below. She was petite and extraordinarily beautiful, with eyes the color of
storm clouds.  Lioncross Abbey Castle, her home, had once been a Roman military
camp, then an abbey when the Romans finally left, and eventually the castle had
been built on top of it, hence the name.  It had an odd shape to it but a
massive bailey that could accommodate an army.  But it wasn’t an army that the
woman was looking for.

Sighing, she turned from
the window and pulled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. It was
chilly.  The Lady Dustin de Lohr was waiting for her husband, his brother and
some of his men to return from a scouting expedition to the north. For almost
three months they had been searching for the woman who would be the next queen
of England, Richard’s heir and meant to replace King John.  The Lady Elizabeau
Treveighan had disappeared from Cardiff last November and de Lohr had been
searching ferociously for her ever since.

So had a number of other
people, a Teutonic prince included.  It seemed to be the most pressing thing
that the country was facing, even more than the disgruntled barons who waged
skirmishes against the king.   All of the king’s opposition had been hunting
for her and the king, if he knew her location, was not saying. Fear was that
Queen Eleanor had the girl and had moved her to France; worse yet, had done
away with her already.  But Lady Dustin’s husband and his followers did not
seem to believe that.

Even now, they were
following a tip from an informant to the north.  They had been gone well over a
week and Lady Dustin was growing uneasy not only for her husband’s safety but
also for the fact that she was due to give birth soon.  She could feel the
child growing tight in her belly and she knew her time was near. She wanted her
husband to be on hand at the birth, as he had promised.

So she sat down by the
fire and waited, as she had waited for over a week.  It seemed that she was
always waiting for her husband one way or the other.  It was simply the way of
things. Just as she was dozing off, soldiers on the walls of the castle began
to shout. The next thing she realized, chargers were storming into the bailey,
nearly obscured by the blanket of snow.  Excited, Dustin left the solar and waddled
to the front entry of the keep as fast as her swollen legs would carry her.

She didn’t make it to
the door in time to open it.   As she neared the foyer, the heavy oak panel
flew open and men in armor began entering, covered in snow and heading for the
great hall where a fire blazed.  Her brother in law, David, was the first man
inside and she caught him before he could move past her.

“Where is Chris?” she
demanded.

David removed his
snow-covered helm; his face was pinched with cold. “Out there, somewhere. He
should be in shortly.”

She kept her hand on
David’s arm. “Did you find her?”

David sneezed violently,
removing one glove to wipe at his red nose. “We found where they are keeping
her, at any rate,” he said. “We practically had to tie du Bois to his saddle to
prevent him from storming the castle.  Now that he knows she’s there, he’s like
a crazy man.”

Dustin’s beautiful face
took on a sympathetic expression. “Where is she?”

“Exactly where we had
been told; Ludlow Castle.”

“That monstrous place?
Isn’t that is one of de Lacy’s holdings?”

“The king confiscated it
last summer and holds it still.  It’s a massive place and we are going to need
a lot of help breaching her.”

David was obviously cold
and wished to move to the fire, but Dustin held him still. “And Rhys? Is he at
least somewhat better now that he knows where she is?”

David sighed heavily as
he faced his sister in law. “He borders on madness. I’ve never seen a man so
crazed by his love for a woman.”

Dustin lifted a
well-shaped eyebrow. “That is because the woman you love has not been kidnapped
by an enemy. You would border on madness just as much as Rhys if something was
to happen to Emilie.”

David half-nodded,
half-shrugged. “Be that as it may, he needs to get a hold of himself.  Above
all else, he needs to remember that she belongs to Brunswick, not him. When we
retrieve her, she will be married to the prince and sent back to Saxony.”

“Is the prince with
you?”

David nodded, trying to
pull away from her. “May I go now and warm myself? I’ve caught my death of a
chill, I’m positive.”

She lifted an impatient
eyebrow at him but let him go.  David could be a complainer at times.  Pulling
her shawl about her shoulders again, she watched as more knights trickled in;
Edward, Lawrence, and a few other seasoned men that had served King Richard
until his death. They were powerful warriors.  The prince finally entered,
shaking snow off his gloves and body, sneezing loudly and wiping his nose with
his hands.  His retainers followed. Conrad smiled weakly at Dustin as he passed
by en route to the blazing fire.  Rod de Titouan, Rhys’ brother, entered alone,
is fair face drawn with fatigue and cold.  She watched him pass by her but he
did not meet her eye.  Finally, her husband and the hulking figure of Rhys brought
up the rear and shut the door.

Christopher went to her
and kissed her, trying not to get snow on her. “Greetings, sweetheart,” he said
as he kissed her again. “How are you feeling?”

She rubbed her pregnant
belly. “Ready to give birth at any time,” she didn’t want to stray off the
subject. “David said you located the lady at Ludlow Castle. Is it true?”

Christopher nodded,
eyeing Rhys as the man lumbered past him, heading into the hall.  “We have
talked to two people who have personally seen her inside the walls,” he said.
“I find it hard to believe she was so close to us all the time, but I am
relieved to have finally found her. At least now we can make plans on how to
retrieve her.”

“What are you going to
do?”

He wriggled his
eyebrows. “Gather reinforcements and lay siege. Now that we know where she is,
we want her back.”

His gaze moved over her
head as if he was watching something. Dustin caught his expression and she
turned to watch as Rhys headed straight for the big pitchers of ale on the
table.  He didn’t even take a cup; grabbing a pitcher, he began to gulp the
ale.

“He drinks far too
much,” Dustin said softly. “You must not let him destroy himself so.”

Christopher wriggled his
eyebrows. “I cannot stop the man. He makes his own choices.”

“But he is distraught,”
she insisted. “At least you could try and help him. He is eaten away by guilt
and anguish.”

“I am afraid he may be
beyond help.”

“Then if you won’t do
something, I will.”

Christopher had had this
conversation with her too many times before. Rhys had not been the same man
since the day Elizabeau was abducted from Caldicot; the normally professional,
obedient and congenial knight had become a dark shadow of his former self.  He
rarely slept, he ate in spurts, and when he wasn’t searching the countryside
for clues to the lady’s whereabouts, he was working off his guilt and excess
emotion by hours upon hours of sword practice.  And when that became too much
for him, he would chop wood.  Hours upon hours of wood.  He had so much chopped
wood at Lioncross that Christopher was positive they wouldn’t need anymore for
the next full year.

The transformation of
Rhys had been astonishing.  He had rippling muscle upon rippling muscle, the
strength of Samson flowing through is veins. He was a very big man to begin
with but over the past three months, he had become positively massive.  He
didn’t shave, or cut his hair, and he rarely bathed. But above that, he had
become inordinately mean.  No more joy in his expression, no more dry humor in
his words.  Even his brother could not break him from his mood, which had
turned Rod into a brooding bear at times. But it was because he was so deeply
concerned for his brother.  It was not the man he knew and loved.

Dustin knew all of this,
as did her husband. She had known Rhys for a few years and liked him very much.
He was kind, chivalrous and wise.  She couldn’t stand to see him like this.  As
her husband shook his head at her, she ignored him and made her way over to
where Rhys was downing his second pitcher of ale.

“I have been told that
the lady has been located,” she said pleasantly enough, smiling timidly when
his bright blue eyes focused on her. “It should be little time before we are
able to get her back.”

He lifted a dark eyebrow
and took another long drink. “We shall see, my lady.”

Her smile faded as she
watched him drain the second pitcher. “Rhys,” she said slowly. “May I speak
with you?”

He tossed the pitcher
aside and looked for another. “What about, my lady?”

She sighed as he
collected a third pitcher.  His disinterest in her conversation fed her
boldness.  Lady Dustin was, if nothing else, unafraid to speak her mind.
“Frankly, about you. What are you doing to yourself?”

He paused with the
pitcher half way to his mouth. “What do you mean?”

She lifted an eyebrow at
him, gesturing to his form in general. “Exactly what I said.  What happened to
the polite man who has served my husband all of these years? Who is this
stranger who has invaded my home and scared my children? My girls used to love
you, Rhys. You were like an uncle to them. Now they cry when you pass by them
and do not speak to them. They are heartbroken.” She took a step towards him,
gazing up into his stone-like expression. “What are you doing to yourself?”

Nearly everyone within
earshot heard her question, especially Rod.  He watched his brother closely for
an explosion, prepared to protect the very pregnant Lady de Lohr from the man’s
rage.  In these dark days, Rhys’ mind was very brittle. The slightest thing
could set him off.   Rod held his breath and waited.

But Rhys didn’t react
immediately. He peered at Dustin as if he did not understand her question. 
Then, he shook his head.

“There is nothing the
matter with me,” he said evenly. “I am performing my duties as an obedient
knight. I serve your husband flawlessly.”

Dustin sighed sadly. “Of
course you are the perfect knight. No one is questioning that. But… but you
drink to excess, you work yourself to the bone with weapon practice and all of
that damnable wood chopping, and you do everything you can to avoid being
friendly to people. That is not the Rhys du Bois I have known for almost six
years. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

His expression was like
stone. “If I perform all that is required of me, how I conduct myself is no
one’s business but my own.”

Dustin would not back
down. “I see,” she said, her sadness turning into irritation. “And is any of
this helping you get the lady back? Is any of this snarling behavior making
your friends and colleagues rush to your aid to help you gain her freedom?”

She was crossing the
line. Christopher moved closer to her, eyeing Rhys as he did so. He couldn’t
honestly believe that Rhys would lash out at her, but then again, Rhys had
behaved very strangely over the past three months. Christopher could see Rod on
the other side of his brother and the two of them exchanged tense glances.

But Rhys did nothing
more than take a long drink of ale and sit down at the long dining table, his
back to Dustin.   Rod sat down beside him, wanting to be near his brother,
wanting to help him somehow. He knew Lady Dustin was trying to snap some sense
in to him. They’d all tried at one time or another.  But Dustin wasn’t
finished; she moved up behind Rhys from the opposite side of the table, gazing
into the back of his helmed head.

“If I were you, I would
think about what I was doing to myself,” she said in a low voice. “You are not
helping anyone by behaving this way. You’re only making a bad situation worse.
We know you are guilt ridden and we know you are heartbroken. We’re all heartbroken,
Rhys. But going the way you are, Lady Elizabeau isn’t going to even recognize
you.  Is that what you want? To be a stranger to her?”

The pitcher suddenly
went sailing, crashing into the wall above the hearth and spraying ale all over
the men standing near the flames.  Dustin shrieked with fright but Rhys was
already on his feet, half way across the floor and heading to the door. 
Christopher stood between his wife and the knight, watching him go and feeling
a good deal of sorrow for the big man. When Rhys disappeared through the door
that led to the bailey, Christopher cast his wife a reproachful gaze before
casually following.