The Dark One: Dark Knight (125 page)

     Gaston never did tell him about Rory's
specter. Neither had he told Remington. Mayhap someday, when the time was
right, he would divulge the turning point in his struggle against Guy. Even if
Rory wasn't with them anymore, she'd been instrumental in the most major event
of his life. As had Arik; dead or not, his spirit had been within the sword
that had slain Guy. Gaston knew that without a doubt.

     As if on cue, Martin de Russe came
alongside Remington and kissed her loudly on the cheek. Any hard feelings from
a year back were dissolved due to the fact that Martin loved Gaston and
Remington far too much to hold a grudge. Hurt that Gaston did not think him
capable of protecting Remington in her time of need, Martin’s pride had been
restored when Gaston had asked him to protect Skye and Jasmine after Guy's escape.
The small gesture had meant a great deal to the once-powerful knight.

     “Lady de Russe!” he boomed. “Surely the
most beautiful woman to bear the de Russe name, except for Skye, of course.”

     Remington beamed at him, radiant in her
pale yellow surcoat and pearl tiara. “Thank you, Uncle Martin.”

     He hugged her closely and pinched Arica's
cheek. “Beautiful babes, like their mother. Now, I must go and make sure the
reception is properly prepared.”

     Martin kissed Skye and bound off, thrilled
to be of use once again and acting as if he were someone of import. Gaston
chuckled. “He acts as if he is in charge.”

     “He thinks he is,” Nicolas said from behind
Gaston. “You should have heard him and Henry arguing over the types of ale to
serve. He acts as if he is paying for your wedding celebration instead of our
king.”

     Gaston shook his head at his aggressive
uncle, reluctantly handing Arica and Adeliza over to Eudora and Patrick when
his wife nudged him to do so.

     Around them, the crowd was filing from the
church to waiting carriages and horses outside. Lord Brimley passed Remington,
kissing her hand sweetly and barely able to speak for the lump in his throat.
Clive and Walter were behind their father, smiling broadly at her. They moved
to kiss her hand but Gaston raised a threatening eyebrow and they settled for a
kind word instead. Lord Tarrington extended his congratulations as well, as did
Ingilsby. In fact, Ingilsby seemed particularly emotional and Remington was
driven to tears again by the man's demeanor. He had truly been her friend
through the bad years and she valued him greatly.

     Ingilsby's knights filed past as well,
respectfully conveying their best wishes. When Hubert came upon Remington and
offered his congratulations, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him
tightly. Hubert did not know if he should respond or not with the Dark One
gazing at him, but he overcame his fear and hugged her back. Blushing, he went
on his way.

     Matthew had been absent during Remington’s
kidnapping and the subsequent fight for Mt. Holyoak because Gaston had been too
swept up with the events to send for him.  He eventually received word of what
was happening from Henry himself and had made his way from Wellesbourne Castle
to be by Gaston’s side.  He hadn’t left the man since everything had happened
and had been forced to leave his newly pregnant wife at home, even for the
event of Gaston’s wedding. Even now, he stuck close by Gaston as at the man
escorted his new wife out of the cathedral.  Best of friends, the two of them
shared a bond closer than brothers. Thick or thin, they were always there for
one another.

     Gaston took his wife's arm as they made
their way out into the bright July sun.  He gazed down at Remington, thinking
her to be well worth the trouble of the past year. In fact, they had met
exactly one year ago this month and when Gaston took possession of Mt. Holyoak,
he never dreamt it would change the course of his life forever.

     He had gained a wife, two daughters and a
son. He had lost friends to death, but he had gained a whole new perspective on
life. He discovered he had friends who were willing to do anything for him,
priests who were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, and even a woman who
returned from the dead to help him in his most valiant struggle. The one event
he regretted was de Tormo's offering; with Guy's death, the sworn confession
from the priest had been unnecessary. Gaston had paid the church five thousand
gold coins for de Tormo's soul, hoping it would lessen his time in purgatory. Lying
to the church surely entitled the priest to the seventh level of hell and
Gaston was determined that he not spend an over amount of time there.

     And there had been other sacrifices, too.
Botmore had been wiped out as punishment for assisting Guy. Douglass Archibald,
although indirectly involved with Botmore and his weak resistance, had been
stripped of his lands. Gaston would have rather made allies of them than
enemies, but his vengeance for Remington had extended into political boundaries
and he had shown all of Yorkshire his considerable wrath. Lord Ingilsby, or
more rightly, the Earl of Hampsthwaite, ruled the lands of the now-disposed
Yorkists.

     Taran was waiting for the couple, decorated
in polished armor and banners of black and silver. He snorted at Remington
happily, dragging his big tongue across her hand. Gaston lifted her up into the
saddle and she smiled at him.

     “Are you sure you want me to ride with
you?” she teased. We tried this once before, as I recall, and I ended up angry
with you.”

     “I am sure, wife,” he mounted behind her,
cradling her against his armor. “Do you know I have never liked the word
‘wife?”

     “And now?” she asked.

     He squeezed her gently. “I like it a great
deal. In fact, there has yet to be a more beautiful word invented.”

     “Aye, there already has been. Husband.”

     I want for you to be my husband
. The wish that had come
true.

     Remington knew little of Guy's death not
three weeks before and was not overly curious. She had not asked the
circumstances, and Gaston had not offered. All that mattered was that they were
finally wed and she never believed she could ever be so happy.

     “I have a surprise for you,” he said as
they fell into the wedding procession. “We are going on a trip.”

     “A trip? Where?” she was instantly excited.

     He smiled at her enthusiasm. “Venice.”

     “Italy?” she exclaimed. You are taking me
to Italy?”

     “Absolutely. Are you pleased?”

     “Oh, Gaston.” She turned in the saddle,
kissing him happily. “I am so excited. I can hardly wait.”

     He returned her kisses. “You won't have to
wait long. We leave tomorrow on the H.M.S. Majestic, one of Henry’s private
vessels. Have you ever been to sea?”

     “I sailed to Ireland with my mother,
twice,” she replied.      “Unfortunately, I was seasick most of the way.”

     “Hmm,” Gaston said thoughtfully. “Mayhap we
should simply sail the channel and go the rest of the way by caravan. I would
hate for you to be ill during our journey.”

     She sat back against him, a coy smile
playing on her lips. “I am afraid I shall most likely be ill whichever way we
travel.”

     “Oh? Why is that?”

     Her coy smile grew. “I have a surprise for
you, too.”

     He did not answer for a moment. When he
spoke, it was with the greatest hesitation. “And what is that?”

     She turned to look at him. “By the look on
your face, I believe you already know the answer.”

     Venice was lovely. The following spring
during the month of March, Cortland Henry Hubert de Russe was born without
incident.

Author’s Additional Note:

What a ride! Gaston’s story was written back in
the day when the author believed the longer, the better. War and Peace
Revisited! But those dreams were quickly cooled by an agent who told her
marketable books are no longer than four hundred pages.  Gaston’s tale,
double-spaced, is about twelve hundred.  That would make a regular paperback at
about 800+.   That agent also instructed the author to cut the book in half to
make it marketable, which she refused to do.  She knew that someday there would
be the opportunity to present it in whole, so she waited… waited… and its time
has finally come. It’s a very long book, but indeed, an epic for the ages.

It also survived numerous obstacles that could
have easily destroyed it – created on a HP 286 (which crashed), only surviving
in hard copy form (and surviving 7 house moves in a box!), finally being
scanned – 1 page at a time, but the original manuscript was so degraded that it
had to be re-typed.  Finally, after all that, it made it to publication. No
book I’ve ever written has deserved it more. Gaston is, if nothing else, a
fighter. 

Divorce is still frowned upon by the Catholic
Church, and back in Gaston and Remi’s day, men were only allowed to instigate
divorces and only then in cases of adultery, devil worship (seriously!), or
something very unsavory. Women were property, so they had no rights when
instigating a divorce. 

Gaston only appears in his story and in The
White Lord of Wellesbourne, but there are at least two additional novels that
have his relatives – one is entitled “Lord of War: Black Angel”, which stars his
great-great grandfather, and the other is “The Dark Son”, which stars one of
his younger boys.   These books are slated for 2013 and 2015 release.

Gaston and Remington went on to have seven
children total  - three girls and four boys – so it’s quite possible that, in
the future, there will indeed be more novels involving Gaston’s progeny.

You never can tell!