Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade (29 page)

She pulled her head
from his shoulder and wiped at her face; he realized that she was crying and it
touched him more than he could have imagined. Women had cried for him before,
of course, but their tears had never meant anything to him. But Toby’s mattered
a great deal. Before she could wipe all of her tears away, he took her face in
his hands, forcing her to look at him.

“Elizabetha,” he
whispered. “Look at me.”

It took her a moment
to lift her eyes to meet his; they were still full of tears. He smiled gently,
caressing her soft cheeks with his thumbs. “I have been a warrior for many
years and have yet, in all that time, to become grievously injured. I can only
swear that I will do my best to continue that tradition. I will do my best to
return to you.”

“I could not bear it
if I lost you,” she murmured, blinking and spattering tears on his hand. 

He pulled her face to
his lips and kissed her tenderly. “I swear to you upon my oath that I will do
all in my power to ensure that you do not. I want to return to you as badly as
you want me to.”

“But I am so
frightened for you.”

He lifted an eyebrow.
“You? Frightened? I do not believe it. The woman I saw this morning with a
poker in her hand is not the frightened type.”

He was attempting to
lighten the mood but she wanted no part of it. “Why can I not go with you to
London? I swear that I will not be a burden.”

He looked at her as if
she was mad, dropping his hands from her face. “I am going into battle,
sweetheart. You cannot go with me.”

“I will bring my
poker. I can fight alongside you.”

He stared at her. Then
he burst out laughing. He put his arms around her again and held her close,
chuckling.

“You probably would,”
he said. “And I would be proud to have you. However, I would be more worried
for you than for me and distraction in my profession can be deadly. I could not
have you as a distraction, a lovely one though you may be.”

She could see that he
would not be swayed. Resignation and despair filled her. “Then I hope that God
will not be so cruel as to take away everyone who is close to me at the same
time,” she said softly. “My father, my mother, then Ailsa… perhaps you.  Do you
suppose that I am being punished for all of those years I disagreed with my
father at every turn or punished Ailsa when perhaps I should not have?”

He shook his head
slowly, his dark eyes glittering. “I do not believe God to be a vengeful God,”
he said softly. “In fact, I see him as a kind and generous God. He brought us
together, did he not?”

In spite of her fear,
she smiled at him, her small hands on both of his cheeks.  “I am grateful that
He brought you to Cartingdon,” she whispered. “I never knew it was possible to
feel such things.”

“Feel what things?”

Her smiled faded, her
hands caressing his stubbled cheeks.  After a moment, she shrugged. “Hope and
joy,” she stumbled through an explanation, not exactly sure how to put her
thoughts into words. “I did not think you liked me very much at first. You were
quite cold.”

He snorted. “I was
not.”

“Aye, you were,” she
insisted. “But I do not blame you. I am quite difficult to tolerate sometimes.
When we were ambushed in the fog near Lorbottle and you went off in search of
our attackers, I was so glad to see you when you returned. But I could never
tell you that. I was not even sure why I was happy to see you, but I was.”

His smile warmed. “And
I was glad to see you as well, but I was not going to tell you, either.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You did indeed tell
me. You took my hand and spoke kindly to me. You told me that you did not want
to leave but that you had to. Do you not recall this?”
He pretended to be very forgetful. “I said no such thing. It must have been
another suitor that told you such silly things.”

She pursed her lips
irritably. “I have not had any other suitors.”

“Hmmm,” he scratched
his cheek distractedly. “Well, then I suppose I must confess.  And there is
something else I must confess.”
“What is that?”

He pushed a stray lock
of hair from her cheek, his storm cloud eyes intense as he gazed at her. “When
I returned from chasing assassins through the fog and saw you seated at your
father’s desk, it was at that precise moment that I realized I was feeling more
than normal concern for you. It must have been shortly thereafter that I
realized I loved you.”

He said it so casually
that it took her a moment to comprehend what he had said.  Then Toby’s eyes
opened wide. “You… you
love
me?”she gasped.

He eyed her briefly as
if she was mad for thinking otherwise before breaking down into a gentle smile.
“Of course, you silly wench,” he leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek. “How could
you possibly think differently?”

She closed her eyes to
his gentle kisses, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. Of
all things she imagined their relationship to be, love had not truly entered
her thoughts until yesterday. Then the notion had crept up on her so subtly
that she was not surprised or afraid; just as everything else with Tate, it had
seemed the most natural of things.  She could not remember when she had not
loved the man.

“Oh, Tate,” she
murmured. “I love you, also. With all my heart, I do.”

He laughed softly.
They remained in their embrace for quite some time after the conversation died,
simply content to hold one another and reflect on their unexpected confession. 
It had been difficult for Tate to spit out, but he was extremely glad he had;
the last person he had confessed his love to had died and to feel adoration
again, to admit it, had been a huge step for him to take.

Tate rocked her
gently, his cheek against the top of her head and his gaze lingering on the
fire. But his warm thoughts faded as his mind inevitably moved to the next few
days and what he needed to accomplish. More than that, he knew he was dreading
their separation more than she was and it was a distressing thought.  If she
had begged any longer to accompany him he might have very well brought her
along, and that would not have been healthy for either of them.

He was saved by
further debate and perhaps failure of his resolve by Kenneth entering the hall.
Tate stood up as his knight approached.

“I have come into
possession of some information you might find interesting,” Kenneth told him.
“I have sent for Stephen.  He should hear this, too.”

“What is wrong?” Tate
demanded softly.

Kenneth passed a
glance at Toby, who was now rising from the bench. Tate caught the implication
and turned to his wife.

“Where are you off to
now, sweetheart?” he asked casually.

Toby stepped over the
bench and smoothed out her surcoat. “The store room,” she said. “I need to see
the state of our stores.  I am sending Althel and his servants to the living
chambers above to start cleaning out those rooms.  Everything needs to be
scrubbed.”

“Aye, General.”

She smirked at him and
he kissed her on the forehead, sending her along her way. He watched her
luscious figure as she went to the corner of the hall where the door was cut
into the floor. She lifted the hatch and carefully disappeared down the ladder.
When she was out of sight, Tate looked at Kenneth again.

“What in the hell is
going on?” he asked in a low voice.

Kenneth lifted an
eyebrow. “Our spies have located de Roche’s army, camped about six miles to the
south.”

“And?”

“And they are
entrenched into the site. They have even built temporary structures. Our spies
seem to think that they are waiting for something.”

It didn’t take a
genius to figure out what he meant. Tate cocked an eyebrow. “Reinforcements?”

Kenneth nodded.
“Mortimer’s army from Wigmore Castle, perhaps? It would be the most logical
assumption. That is where he keeps the bulk of his army.”

Tate’s mind shuffled
through all of the possibilities. As he turned back towards the fire,
pensively, Stephen entered the keep and joined the huddle. Kenneth told Stephen
what he had just told Tate and the two knights watched their liege closely for
his reaction. 

“If that is the case
and they are truly waiting for reinforcements, then that puts us in a
precarious position,” Tate finally muttered. “Warkworth remains but I would
suspect Mortimer would bring twice their numbers. Harbottle is marginally
repaired but I do not believe it can withstand an onslaught from a thousand
men, which means we either dig in or we flee.”  He turned to look at his men.
“If Alnwick has not arrived by now, I suspect that they are not coming.
Something must have happened to the messenger.”

Stephen and Kenneth
did not disagree. “What would you propose?” Kenneth asked.

Tate pursed his lips
thoughtfully and began to pace. “We need to face the fact that Mortimer has
located Edward,” he said. “We no longer have the luxury of traveling incognito.
With this threat upon us, we need to make it to a larger fortress that can
handle such an assault. Harbottle is not strong enough at the moment.”

“Where do we go?”
Stephen asked.

“Alnwick. It is the
closest and largest.”

“When?” Stephen asked
again.

“Now,” Tate told them.
“We will waste no more time here. And we take Warkworth’s army with us for
escort.  Ken, you organize the wagons, supplies, weapons, and get Harbottle’s
army prepared to move out by dusk. Stephen, you have a plethora of wounded that
you must mobilize. I suggest you decide your immediate course of action and get
to it.  I will deal directly with Warkworth and tell them our plans. By
nightfall, this place will be empty.”

The knights were on
the move, a strong sense of urgency filling them. Tate went to the last place
he saw his wife, preparing to tell her as gently as he could that their trip to
Cartingdon was not to take place. He was dreading her reaction but it could not
be helped. He could hear her voice as he descended the ladder into the storage
basement.

It was dark and dank,
smelling of dirt. Two torches burned against the south wall, sending black soot
to the ceiling. Tate spied Toby standing several feet away, speaking with young
Edward. The lad had apparently gone into the basement when Tate had chased him
out of the hall and now stood with a large piece of cheese in his hand, his
cheeks full to bursting. He looked like a chipmunk. Tate cocked an eyebrow as
he walked upon the two, his gaze on the fat-cheeked youth.

“You are going to
choke if you keep eating as you do,” he told him.

Edward’s answer was to
take another bite. He grinned at Toby, who grinned back. Tate rolled his eyes.

“Enough foolery,” he
snapped without force. “Edward, go into the hall and wait for me. I have
something very important to speak to you about.  Do not wander away; I will be
up in a few minutes.”

Edward’s brow
furrowed. “You keep chasing me from room to room.”

“And I shall be
kicking you from room to room if you do not do as I say.”

Edward made a face but
dutifully did as he was told, grumbling all the way. When he was gone, Tate
looked to Toby.

“Now,” he said softly,
“I must speak to you.”

He looked serious and
she grew concerned. “What is it?”

He sighed, trying to
put it as delicately as possible. “It appears as if our situation has gone from
bad to worse. We think that a massive siege may be imminent and I have ordered
Kenneth and Stephen to prepare to move out. We are leaving for a more fortified
haven.”

Her eyes widened.
“What has happened?”

“Nothing as of yet. 
But the army that attacked us two days ago has made encampment to the south and
is just sitting there, waiting. The only reason they would not have disbursed
is if they are planning another attack or perhaps waiting for reinforcements
before doing so.  We will presume it is the latter.”

Her brow furrowed and
she put her hand on his arm. “Where will we go?”

“To Alnwick,” he
replied, putting his hand over hers. “It is about twenty miles away. We can
make it there in a few hours at a fast pace.” He rubbed her hand gently. “I am
sorry, sweetheart. I know I told you that we could go to Forestburn but I am
afraid this latest information will prevent that for the time being. I must get
Edward, and you, to safety. Harbottle cannot withstand another siege of large
proportions.”

She looked up at him,
her big eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken words. He could read fear,
confusion, disappointment, but most of all, she looked sad. The sorrow only
increased until she finally lowered her head.

“I understand,” she
said quietly. “When do you think we will be able to return to Forestburn?”

“I have no way of
knowing. As soon as we are able, I promise.”

She nodded her head,
still looking at the ground. Then her head came up slightly. “We…,” she
whispered, catching herself and then starting again. “We will have to leave
Ailsa here, will we not?”