The Falls of Erith (33 page)

“There
now, love,” she smiled as she put the cloth over the cut to stop the bleeding.
“It’s not bad. What happened?”

Brooke’s
luminous blue eyes were shedding rivers of tears.  “The horse kicked up a
rock.”

“What
horse?”

“Dallas’.”

Dallas
was off his charger, walking beside Brooke as the wagon plodded along. He
flipped up his visor, gazing at Brooke’s face with great concern. Holding the
reins in one hand, he put the other on her knee.

“I
am so sorry, Brooke,” he said softly. “It was an accident.”

Gray
watched the young knight interact with her daughter, surprised at the emotion
in his voice. She had not expected it. She was even more surprised when Brooke
stopped crying immediately and smiled at him. It was just like magic.

“I
am all right,” she assured him in a tone her mother had never heard her use
before. “I know you did not mean it.  I… I think I was startled more than
anything. It will heal.”

Dallas
smiled back at her, patting her knee before looking to Gray. “Is it bad?”

Gray
was still lingering on the exchange between her daughter and Dallas.  It took
her a moment to realize he had asked her a question.

“Nay,”
she forced herself to shift her focus back to the cut.  “It doesn’t look like
she’ll need stitches. She will mend.”

“Good.
I do not want anything to mar that lovely face.” Dallas looked back to his wife
and gave her a bold wink. Brooke smiled broadly. Gray was astonished at them
both.

“Dallas,”
Braxton was still astride his charger, plodding alongside the wagon. “A word,
please.”

Dallas
tore his gaze from Brooke and swiftly mounted. Together, they spurred their
chargers to the head of the column so that their conversation would not be
overheard.  Gray cast a glance at her husband as he cantered off before
returning her attention to her daughter.  Even as she tended the cut, her mind
was on the exchange between Brooke and her new husband. Being a mother, and a
very concerned one, she could not help her curiosity.

“Is
all well, Brooke?” she asked softly.

Brooke
could see Dallas in her peripheral vision. She kept trying to turn her head to
watch him as her mother cleaned the cut. “Aye, Mama,” she said, still trying to
catch a glimpse of her husband. “Everything is fine.”

Gray’s
movements slowed as she fixed her daughter in the eye. “Are you sure? He was…
kind? You are not injured?”

Brooke
knew what her mother was speaking of and she flushed violently, averting her
gaze.  “Everything is fine, Mama. Truly.”

Gray
sighed faintly and resumed cleaning the wound.  She wasn’t going to press if
Brooke did not want to speak of it.  As long as Brooke said she was fine, she
would ask no further.  Still, it was difficult to fathom that her little girl
was now a married woman. She wasn’t used to the idea.

Up
at the front of the column, Braxton was amused to notice that Dallas seemed
unfocused also. He kept looking back over his shoulder.  Braxton finally
cleared his throat loudly.

“She
is a lovely girl,” he commented casually.

Dallas
apparently hadn’t realized how distracted he had appeared. He faced forward,
pretending to focus on the road ahead. “What did you wish to speak of?”

Braxton
fought off a smile. “Your wife. Did you do your duty?”

“I
did.”

“Completely?
So it can never be questioned that the marriage was consummated?”

Dallas
looked at him, then. “I performed as a husband. And she performed as a wife.”

Braxton
could see he was being truthful. He would not press further. “Excellent,” his
gaze moved forward again. “Now we have a bit of a situation on our hands; Erith
is now your keep. The de Clares were guests there last we saw. What is your
wish as far as they are concerned? Will you continue to show them hospitality
or will you order them to leave?”

Dallas
fell into contemplative silence. “I have no reason to order them away if they
have come peacefully,” he said after a moment. “Of course, I would know the
reason for their visit. If they have come to seek Brooke’s hand, however, I
will throw them out on their arse.”

Braxton
looked at him; Dallas was usually quite calm, even in the heat of battle. It
was a powerful quality in a powerful man. To hear him speak with such force was
completely uncharacteristic. Braxton fought off a grin, suspecting that the
lovely Lady Brooke had somehow left a mark on the dedicated young knight.

“As
you wish,” he replied. “But we must be mindful of their numbers. They are,
after all, Gloucester, and Erith is in no condition to withstand a siege.
Whatever you decide to do, it must be done with great foresight.”

Dallas
nodded, thinking of the broken down fortress that was now his. Strange how the
castle now seemed so magnificent to him and he felt quite naturally protective
of it.

“I
will tell you what else I wish,” he went on. “I wish for Lady Constance sent
back to wherever she came from. I do not want that old witch within my walls or
near my wife. She is a snake.”

“You
are speaking of my wife’s mother and your wife’s grandmother,” Braxton reminded
him. “You must be very careful how you approach this.”

“Do
you disagree?”

“Hell
no. But you must be very careful when throwing her bodily from the keep. You do
not want to appear cruel or controlling. More than that, the old woman is of
the Northumberland Grays.  It would do Erith absolutely no good to offend the
whole of Northumberland.”

Dallas
looked at him, a twinkle in his eye. “Will your father not ride to our aide?”

“My
father will be leading the attack against us.”

“Marvelous,”
Dallas snorted ironically. “A most twisted predicament we find ourselves in.”

Braxton
could only lift his eyebrows in agreement, his gaze moving back over the
scenery around them.  It was lush and quiet. Erith was only a few miles to the
north.  They would be arriving soon and his trepidation sparked.

“If
I can make a suggestion, Dallas,” he ventured.

“Of
course, my lord.”

“Do
not address me so formally in moments like this.”

“Of
course, father.”

Braxton’s
head snapped up, seeing Dallas silently laughing at him.  He smirked. “Whelp,”
he muttered insultingly.  But he grew serious. “I would suggest you send word
ahead to Erith announcing not only your marriage to Lady Brooke, but your
impending arrival as the new lord of Erith.  If de Clare is still there, they
must know immediately. And be forewarned.”

“Do
you believe that entirely wise? It might give them time to build up a righteous
rage.”

“Indeed
it will. But I would rather meet that rage head-on than wait until we are at
Erith and trapped by the de Clare army within her crumbling walls.”

Dallas
turned his head, lifting a gloved hand in Graehm’s direction. The stocky knight
was almost to the rear of the column but caught the gesture and spurred his
charger forward.  He met up with Braxton and Dallas at their position near the
front.

“Aye?”
he answered Dallas.

“Send
word ahead to Erith announcing the marriage of the Lady Brooke Serroux to Sir
Dallas Aston.”

“Very
good,” Graehm saluted sharply, grinning. His gaze moved to Braxton. “And you,
my lord? Am I to announce your marriage to Lady Gray?”

Braxton’s
focus was on the road ahead as if he could see Erith in the distance.  He began
to seriously wonder what lay in wait for them.  With Constance’s treachery, he
could only imagine. And he knew she would not take the announcement of the
marriages well. But he didn’t care.

“Absolutely,”
he said. “You will let the world know that Braxton de Nerra has taken a bride.”

Graehm
was gone.  Braxton glanced over his shoulder at Dallas to notice that the young
knight was staring at him.  They gazed at each other a moment, a thousand words
of curiosity and foreboding filling their air.  Braxton faced forward again.

“Put
the wagons and the ladies to the rear,” he said quietly. “Put the men on alert.
Knights with shields slung.”

Dallas
moved swiftly to carry out the order.  The last glimpse that Braxton had of his
wife was as the wagon made a sweeping turn for the rear of the column. 

His
visor went down and his shield went over his left knee.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Gloucester
didn’t simply release a barrage.  He released chaos.

As
soon as Braxton’s army neared the outer perimeter of Erith, the three hundred
men that Roger de Clare had brought with him attacked from the woods.  The
fortress was hardly manned, being that it provided no protection whatsoever. 
Roger had wisely sent his men into the cover of the trees to attack de Nerra’s
army.

The
first volley of arrows struck the men at the front of Braxton’s column.  He
lost four men right away, pierced through their bodies and heads with
Gloucester arrows.  Braxton himself was hit, but only in the wrist.  The arrow
didn’t even lodge itself; it simply pierced him and fell away.  Knowing they
had walked right into an ambush, Braxton did the only thing he could.  He
called a retreat.

But
there were de Clare men lining the woods for several hundred yards.  Even in
retreat, they found themselves in a full-scale battle as Roger’s army almost
completely encircled them.   Braxton’s heart was in his throat as he thundered
his way to the rear of the column where Gray and Brooke were; he found them
laying in the wagon next to Geoff, being shielded from the arrows and fighting
by none other than Norman and Edgar.  When the soldier driving the wagon was
hit with an arrow to the neck, Braxton leapt from his charger and took the
reins himself.

The
wagon barreled back down the road as fast as the horses would go.  His only
thought at the moment was to get the women to safety.  Gradually, the fighting
fell away from them and they were alone, tearing down the road towards
Milnthorpe.  He could hear Brooke weeping softly in the bed of the wagon but he
did not stop; he continued for another mile at least, far enough away so that
he was sure they were clear of the fighting. But he did not trust Gloucester
not to follow him.  He drove the wagon off the road, across a small brook, and
continued into a heavy thicket.

By
this time, Gray had lifted her head.  Realizing there was no longer a war going
on over her head, she climbed onto the wagon bench beside her husband and held
on for dear life as he drove a crazy path through the foliage.  Braxton felt
her presence but didn’t look at her; he could not afford the diversion. His primary
focus was to get them to safety.

They
finally reached a cool, grassy area imbedded in a cluster of white birch trees
and Braxton pulled the wagon to an unsteady halt.  It was silent but for the
singing of the birds overhead.  As Gray turned to Braxton, the thunder of
hooves behind them startled everyone.  They turned to see Braxton’s charger
rushing up behind them, riderless. The horse had followed his master all the
way from the battle, very well trained to stay with his lord.

When
they saw it was only the destrier, everyone emitted varied sighs of relief. 
Braxton’s gaze lingered on Gray a moment, just to see for himself that she was
all right.  She smiled wanly. He patted her cheek, bailed from the wagon, and
went straight to the team of horses.  Gray watched him unfasten the tack.

“What
are you doing?” she asked.

Braxton
uncoupled the team as Norman and Edgar ran up.  The boys began unstrapping the
leather connecting the animals.

“I
must return,” he told her. 

“But
why are you unhitching the horses?”

“Norman
and Edgar return with me.”

Gray
didn’t say anything, but her wide-eyed expression conveyed much.   Braxton
couldn’t linger on her fear, however; she was safe and that was all that
concerned him.  He had a job to do.

When
he had helped the boys as much as he was able, he went to the wagon and
motioned Gray down off the bench.  She slid into his waiting hands and he put
his arm around her shoulders as he led her back towards his now-grazing
charger.  She laid her head on his shoulder, clinging to him.

“I
will go back and fight off de Clare, but I wanted you safe,” he explained,
trying to alleviate her fears. “It should not take long. Skirmishes like this
usually don’t. But you will say here until I come for you. Is that clear?”

They
had reached the charger and now faced each other. “Aye,” Gray nodded, dread in
her eyes. “Please be careful, Braxton. Nothing about Erith is worth dying for.”

He
smiled at her. “It is Dallas’ fortress now. He might have something different
to say about that.”