Timeless Tales of Honor (65 page)

A massive hand shot out, grasping William around the throat. Gavan and Daniel leapt on Richmond as he shoved William back, back into the wall in a crash of armor and flesh. Pathetic grunts and the sounds of a struggle filled the small solar to the rafters, threatening to rupture the very walls.

Ignoring Gavan's pleas for calm, Richmond focused on William. "You will listen to me and listen well,” he hissed. “I have been Arissa's guardian for eighteen years and I will not hesitate to kill you if your threat is sincere. However, considering your grief, I will spare you for the moment," even as Gavan and Daniel struggled to prevent him from strangling William, his grip tightened. "But hear me; I had nothing to do with Tad's ambush, and Arissa had nothing to do with the attack upon Lambourn. She’s a victim in all of this, just as you and I are, and I shall not listen to your slander. Your son is dying because he showed an ounce of courage to defend a fragile, weak woman, and for no other reason than that. I will not allow you to cast the blame where it does not belong."

In Richmond's mighty grip, William labored to breath. Although somewhat subdued, his insanity was not diminished. If anything, it was growing.

"I.... I am an earl," he rasped. "You will remove your hands under penalty of death!"

Richmond's grip tightened slightly, his nostrils twitching with menacing flare. "And I am the guardian of royal blood. I will do what is necessary to protect her."

With that, he released the heavy man. William collapsed forward onto his knees, gasping with every breath. Richmond turned away, moving for the door with Gavan on his heels. Only Daniel and Mossy remained, staring at William as if he were a creature from the unknown.

Daniel felt the sticky terror and it frightened him; swallowing hard, he glanced from William to Mossy and back again. He had no idea what to think, for the words he had heard coming forth between the earl and Richmond were staggering. A fairly simple man with simple thoughts, he could barely comprehend what he had heard.

As Richmond hit the threshold of the room, William coughed violently and cried out to him. "You will leave Lambourn and you will take her with you. If I see her again, I shall kill her!"

Richmond paused, his expression one of utter enmity. Gavan, directly behind him, put his hands against his friend to prevent him from killing the man. The mood filling the air was chaotic, completely erratic.

"No, Richmond," Gavan commanded softly. "Let's go. We shall leave this minute."

As Gavan forcefully shoved Richmond from the solar and into the foyer, William began to pound his hands against the floor. His mad ravings turned to hysterical tears and he collapsed in a heap, clawing at the stone in his throes of grief.

"My son, my son," he sobbed, spittle running from his mouth and onto the stone. "My legacy. All is lost without you."

Over in the corner, Mossy drank the last of his wine. Not bothering to refill the chalice, he drained the entire flask.

B
undled
in layers of wool and covered with a heavy oiled tarp, Arissa sat beside one of Richmond's soldiers on the bench of a wagon. Weeping softly, she hardly noticed Richmond and Gavan move their company of weary men through the battered front gates of Lambourn. Around her, the destroyed bailey was eerie and silent in the midst of the driving rain, but she ignored that as well. She could only focus on her grief.

Not an hour before she had been whisked from her cozy bed by Richmond. With barely a word, he commanded her to dress as warmly as possible while he and Gavan packed everything they could fit into a single large trunk. When she demanded to know what was amiss, her inquiry had been met with silence. And when Regine and Emma had come to the door to see how she was faring after her harrowing day, Richmond had barked them away so severely that Regine had burst into tears. Arissa could still hear her sister crying through the closed door.

It did not take an over amount of intelligence to realize they were leaving. But she hadn't been permitted to say farewell to anyone and Richmond had carried her, puzzled and bewildered, from the warmth of her bower into the mess that had once been the bailey of Lambourn. As her bafflement wore thin, the tears of fright and disorientation came and she struggled with them even now as Richmond mounted his weary charger and ordered the wagon forward.

He reined his mount next to her as the rig exited the open gates, partially burned from the siege. Her pale green eyes fell on the thrashed panels of wood, turning to gaze at her cherished home as the wagon made way into the night. The tears fell harder and faster as she returned her gaze forward, mystified and sorrowful.

They were leaving, never to return. Even though he'd not said a word, she knew in her heart that she was seeing her last of her beloved Lambourn.

They were barely clear of the gates when Richmond reached out to touch her hand. Startled, not to mention suddenly furious with him for his silence and cruelty, she yanked her arm away. He did not say a word, nor did he look to her. After a moment, he simply drove his charger forward into the midst of the column.

She watched him from behind her soaked handkerchief, her fury rapidly fading. She resisted the urge to call out to him, to apologize for her flash of anger. But, Sweet St. Jude, she did not understand any of what had happened. Being swept from her warm bed and thrust out into the raining dead of night had left her rattled and bewildered.

Beyond her grief and disorientation was the deeply puzzling question as to where, exactly, was their intended destination. She suspected that Richmond was terribly uncomfortable now that the Welsh rebels knew the whereabouts of Henry's illegitimate daughter. They would return for her as they promised, and Richmond had decided to move her immediately.

.... but move her where?

Another charger moved beside her, jolting her from her thoughts, and she found herself passing a long glance at Gavan. His visor was raised, keeping the rain off his face, and he smiled when their eyes met. But she was not ready to give into his kindness, either, and she lowered her red-swollen gaze. Gavan's smile faded as his eyes lingered on her shrouded head; spurring his steed forward, he charged through the rain and mud to reach Richmond.

"Talk to her, Richmond," he said softly. "She’s bewildered and hurt, and you are making it worse with your silence."

Richmond ignored him. “I have sent a messenger to London to inform Henry of what has happened,” he told him. “I have instructed him to wait for a reply. Until and unless we have a different directive, it is my intention to take Arissa directly to Whitby. She will be safe there.”

Gavan nodded at the business-like reply. Richmond was being cold as only Richmond was capable of doing, like a great block of ice. No emotion, no feelings. Gavan cleared his throat softly.

“Agreed,” he said, shifting back to his original statement. “But you must tell her something. She’s understandably frightened.”

Slowly, Richmond shook his head. "Do you think she will want to hear that the only father she’s ever known has sworn to kill her on sight? How do you think she will feel when I tell her that William blames her for Bart's injury?" he sighed heavily, ignoring the dripping water on his face. "I cannot bring myself to tell her those things. Any of it."

"So you would allow her to cry herself ill while you refrain from explaining why she had to leave home?" Gavan closed his visor against the driving rain. "You are being cruel."

Richmond's head snapped to Gavan, his blue eyes blazing beneath his open visor. "I am sparing her feelings."

"Not at all. You are hoping she will never question your reasons for abruptly leaving Lambourn, therefore, you will not voluntarily tell her the factors behind her departure," his helmed head turned to his friend. "That's not like you, Richmond. You have always been exceedingly honest and forthright."

Richmond's intense gaze lingered on his second a moment longer before turning away. After a heady pause, he let out a sharp sigh.

"You are right, of course. She’s to know, even if it is only a portion of the truth."

Gavan eyed him for a moment. "'Tis understandable that you are afraid to tell her. You do not want to be the cause of her grief."

"I loathe to be the cause of her grief."

"But you do not seem to realize that you are causing her more grief with your silence."

Richmond slanted the man an intolerant, nearly-mocking glance. "You are too damn wise for your own good, Hage. Get away from me; you have piqued my irritation because your wisdom exceeds mine."

Gavan smiled. "'Tis time you come to realize my superiority."

"Arrogant swine." Richmond slammed his visor down, reining his charger towards the rear of the column where Arissa rode aboard the provisions wagon.

Arissa did not see him approach until mud suddenly splashed up from the road, pelting the heavy cloth across her lap. Directing his destrier next to the jostling wagon, he raised his visor, his weary face wet from the rain.

"I am sorry we had to leave in the middle of this storm," he said quietly. "Are you comfortable?"

She did not say anything for a moment. Then, her angry, pale face glared at him from beneath her hood. "Why did we have to leave so suddenly? I did not even get to say farewell to anyone."

His blue eyes were laced with fatigue, the shadowy stubble on his face speaking volumes of a man who hadn't seen a moment's rest since before dawn. He held her gaze for a lengthy pause.

"Because you are still my charge, Lady Arissa, and I deemed it necessary to leave Lambourn immediately to preserve your safety and possibly your life,” he sounded snappish. “In case you haven't realized it, Lambourn is a battle zone and certainly no place for you. Furthermore, your natural father's enemies have discovered your whereabouts and the sooner you leave, the better. Do you comprehend me?"

Her fury faded and she lowered her gaze, ashamed with her behavior. As always, he was only thinking of her best interests and she should not have become angry with him for doing what he must.

She wiped at her nose daintily. "But why couldn't I even say good-bye?"

His compassion for her plight deepened, torn so brutally from her friends and family. His voice softened. "Because we could not spare the time. I am sorry, kitten. I truly am."

She sniffled softly, wiping at her nose again. "I.... I am going to miss them terribly. I did not even have the chance to tell Penelope how sorry I was for her father's death."

He reached out to touch her hand; this time, she did not pull away and wound her fingers tightly around his massive gauntlet. "She knows how sorry you are, kitten. Do not fret so."

They rode in silence for a few moments. The rain had lessened in intensity, although it was still quite wet. But there was a peace to the rain, a soothing quality that comforted and consoled weary soldiers and lady alike. Arissa listened to the rain, holding Richmond's hand and feeling a measureable degree of tranquility. But the calming sounds did nothing to ease the apprehension for her future.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.

His grip tightened around her fingers. "Whitby."

Whitby.
A month ahead of schedule. She had been looking forward to spending the next thirty-one days with Richmond, exploring and discovering, creating memories to lock deep into her heart that she could draw upon when she was forced into the lonely isolation of the abbey. She had been counting on those recollections to preserve her sanity.

But Richmond had decided to alter that schedule. She did not want to go to Whitby; not now, not ever. The tears that had so recently fled were back with a vengeance, and she sobbed softly into her handkerchief.

Richmond squeezed her hand tightly. "Do not cry, kitten. You shall be perfectly safe there while I attend to necessary duties. I will not be long, I promise. Just long enough to plead for your hand."

Her sobbing grew louder, more hysterical. "But.... I do-on't want to go. I-I shall be away from you for C-Christmas, Richmond. Do not take me t-there, not now!"

He tugged on her hand, hard enough to cause her to lurch to her feet. Before she realized it, he was grasping her about the waist and placing her in front of him in the saddle. Adjusting the oiled cloth to keep her dry, he spurred his charger forward.

Arissa continued to sob miserably as his thick arm clutched her tightly. Faceplate raised, he leaned close to her ear. "I do not want to take you there, you know that. But I have virtually no choice in the matter."

She sniffled and sobbed. "N-not there! D-Do you have friends we could stay with? O-Or you could t-take me to Windsor. I am sure the k-king would not mind."

He did not say anything for a moment and she could feel his hot breath against her ear. Certainly it would not be a keen idea for her to be roving the halls of Windsor for several good reasons; Henry would not want to be reminded at every turn of a love gone by, of the painful indiscretions that had plagued a young noble. Furthermore, Richmond most likely would be kept apart from her out of pure protocol. He was, after all, a mere knight. And she was of royal blood.

His heart sank when he realized Arissa had no true home, no place to seek refuge in her time of need. There was nowhere for her to go. Except Whitby.

"That would not be wise, Riss," he murmured softly. "There is nowhere for you to go but the abbey."

She wept into her hand. "D-Do not leave me there, Richmond. Please do not leave me there alone."

He held her tightly. "I have no choice, kitten."

"Then I w-want to go home," she sobbed pathetically. "I want to go back to L-Lambourn."

His jaw ticked faintly as he remembered William's words, harsh threats spoken in the midst of agonizing grief. "You cannot go home. You cannot ever go home."

She continued to sob and cough, breaking his heart with her sorrow. Although he had numerous friends scattered throughout the country, he felt most comfortable for her safety and health tucked away in the Yorkshire abbey. Far away from Owen and far away from Henry's enemies who were clearly aware of her existence. Whereas Arissa could be wrested from the walls of a breached fortress, or even the walls of Windsor for that matter, those who sought to do her harm would think twice before violating the haven of an abbey.

"Listen to me, love," he squeezed her gently, attempting to distract her from her misery. "I promise we shall take our time traveling to Whitby. We shall make an adventure of it; stopping at every inn that captures your fancy, purchasing sweets and pretty things. We shall have a wonderful time doing whatever our moods dictate. Will that be acceptable?"

She ran a finger under her nose, thinking on his offer a moment. "T-The nuns will make me give up the pretty things we purchase."

He shrugged, attempting to keep his manner light in the hope that she would follow suit. If she noted his unconcerned attitude towards the unknown amount of time to be spent at Whitby, mayhap she would cease to view the necessary separation as a death sentence.

"I shall keep them safely for you,” he assured her. “I have also had in mind to build my own keep; mayhap we shall discover a suitable piece of land as we travel northward. We shall pass through portions of lovely country and I am sure we can choose a fitting location. I will depend upon you to assist me in this most important duty."

She sniffled again, her tears fading as a faint excitement took hold. "You want me to help you?"

"Absolutely. It will be your keep too, will it not?"

She thought a moment; certainly it would be her keep, too. The place where she and Richmond would spend the rest of their lives, basking in a love that had existed since the day she was born. She wiped at her nose yet again, turning to look at him in the rain.

"M-Mayhap we can build it on a hill, overlooking the land,” she said helpfully. “Mayhap we can even build it overlooking a river; a huge grand place with hundreds of rooms for all of the children we will have."

His smile faded, thinking on Mossy's words.
Were she to conceive, it could kill her.
Gazing into the pale green eyes, he tried not to let his depression show. "I doubt we could have enough children to fill one hundred rooms," he said softly. "In any event, you will help me select a suitable site for our keep. Agreed?"

Our keep.
Her tears were forgotten as he successfully diverted her grief and she smiled hopefully. "Can I name our fortress?"

"Certainly you can," he pulled the oiled tarp tighter about her slender body as the rain increased, turning her away from the direction of the wind. "Did you have a name in mind?"

She sighed, feeling her fatigue as her emotions settled. "Not yet. But I will spend my days contemplating a list of names for your approval."

"And I shall look forward to it." Thankful his attempt to calm her had succeeded, Richmond spurred his destrier into a jaunty canter to the front of the column. Gavan was riding alone at the head, and he turned to look at Richmond and Arissa as they rode up. One look at the lady's pleasant expression and he knew that all was right in the world once again.