Lord of War: Black Angel (23 page)

Brandt’s snoring was deep and even. He was dead asleep against her, sitting up, as she massaged his scalp.  It went on for several minutes until the tent flap slapped back again and Dylan appeared.  Before he could say anything, Ellowyn barred her teeth at him threateningly and he came to a wide-eyed halt, seeing that Brandt was sleeping the sleep of the dead as his wife drilled her fingers into his head.

“Wake him and you shall feel my wrath,” she hissed softly. “Let him rest, for Pity’s sake.”

Dylan’s gaze moved from her face to Brandt’s and back again. He was apologetic. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said quietly but politely. “He must know that Arundel is on the move. They are vacating the castle.”

Brandt’s head popped up and he was on his feet before Ellowyn realized it.  “Well and good,” he growled, moving for his helmet and slapping it back on his head. “Is the portcullis lifted yet?”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Then move my troops in and make sure anything that is Arundel is cleaned out,” he said. “I do not want that man’s stench in my castle.”

Ellowyn ran after him. “Wait!” she called. “Where are you going?”

He paused before quitting the tent and she bumped into the back of him.  He took her hand and brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss.

“I will return,” he assured her, looking remarkably awake for a man who had been passed out moments earlier. “You will remain here until I do. I will have someone bring you something to eat.”

She peered at him closely. “Are you well?” she asked, concerned. “You were so exhausted and….”

He kissed her hand again, her palm, and her lips swiftly in that order, cutting her off. “I can move mountains,” he assured her quietly. “You, Lady de Russe, have that effect on me.”

She smiled as he winked at her and quit the tent. She could hear his voice outside, relaying orders and receiving information.  Listening to his strong, confident voice kept the smile on her face for some time to come.  Returning to her cards, she settled in to wait for Guildford to be cleared.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was a spectacular castle.

Near sunset, Ellowyn’s carriage was escorted into the extensive grounds of Guildford Castle and gazing from the coach window, she could immediately see the majesty and wealth of the Duke of Exeter.  The castle was truly something to behold.

The entire complex was surrounded by a massive ditch that was partially filled with water.  It was a moat of sorts, with steep sides that made it treacherous and uninviting. An enormous gatehouse built into the colossal outerwall protected a vast bailey that contained a number of wood and stone outbuildings and stables, the roofs heavily thatched. It looked like an entire little village in the bailey. 

The most obvious feature of Guildford was the gargantuan motte, or hill, on the northern edge of the complex upon which a tall, block-shaped keep had been built.  There was another moat around the motte and there were any number of defense structures surrounding the motte, most notably the dozens of spiked logs jutting out from the sides of the hill.  It gave the motte a rather terrifying and unenticing appearance. 

As the carriage pulled through the bailey, Ellowyn could see Brandt and Dylan standing at the base of the stairs that led up the side of the motte to the keep on the top.   They were speaking with three knights, all of them dressed for battle, and as the carriage drew close, Ellowyn saw Dylan advance menacingly towards the three unknown knights.  Brandt put out an arm to stop the man, eventually putting himself between Dylan and the knights. His demeanor seemed to be very threatening. As Ellowyn watched, Brandt lashed out a massive fist and caught one of the knights squarely in the face.  He sailed backwards, into his companions, and the entire trio went down.

The carriage turned away from the view and she could no longer see what was happening as it eventually came to a halt.  Before anyone could assist her from the coach, Ellowyn opened the door herself and climbed out.  The first thing she did is rush straight to Brandt and the knights now picking themselves off the ground.

“Are these the men who tried to steal your castle?” she asked.

Brandt hadn’t seen her coming; she had run up behind him and caught him off guard.  He turned to say something to her but she was already fixed on the knights who were now standing, one of them with his hand to his face.  Ellowyn advanced on the group, fingers pointing.

“Are you Arundel’s men?” she demanded.

The man with the hand over his bloodied nose scowled at her. “Who in the hell are you?”

Ellowyn felt Brandt come up behind her, preparing to deliver another crushing blow for the harsh question, but she put out a hand to stop him.  She was used to taking charge because Deston had let her; it seemed that her behavior and sense of control would not be contained in a different environment.  Wherever she was, she was in control. She was well prepared to punish and scold, protecting what was hers.  She was not afraid.

“I am Lady de Russe,” she said, her tone hazardous, “and you have usurped the castle belonging to my husband, the Duke of Exeter.  How on earth your liege thought a challenge like this would go unnoticed and unanswered is beyond me, for it was a foolish and ridiculous attempt, and you may tell him I said so.  You may also tell him that we fully expect reparation for the year’s worth of revenue he stole from my husband, an accounting of which I will send to him with in the week.  If we do not receive immediate compensation for Arundel’s thievery, I will send a thousand men to claim what is rightfully ours from every farm, village, church, and individual within a twenty mile radius of Arundel until the debt is paid.  Is this is any way unclear so far?”

She had delivered the demands so succinctly, so smoothly, that the three knights were staring at her with some shock and a hint of intimidation.  Brandt and Dylan, standing behind her, were equally astonished.   The knight with the bloodied nose nodded after a moment.

“Aye, Lady de Russe,” he replied.

Ellowyn wasn’t finished.  “You will further tell your lord that I am personally offended by his attempts to confiscate my husband’s property and he has earned my great displeasure for the angst and strife he has put my husband through. An offense against my husband is an offense against me.   He had better think of some way to ease my displeasure and pray that I am in forgiving mood when he presents his case.  I will expect his full and unrestrained apology when he delivers the compensation for what my husband is owed. Do you understand?”

“I do, my lady.”

 “Get out of my sight.”

The knight and his comrades turned away from her, swiftly, and made haste towards the stables.  Ellowyn watched them go before turning to Brandt and Dylan, still standing behind her.

“There,” she said decisively, as if she had just finished some manner of simple business that she conducted every day. “Now, will you show me this magnificent keep?”

Brandt was staring at her.  He was still rather stunned with her aggressive behavior but strangely, it did not displease him.  He was rather amused.  He was also rather proud.  It was the same manner she had used when they had first met, only he had been on the receiving end just as Arundel’s knights had been.  The more he saw of Ellowyn, the more he liked.

“Lady, your negotiation skills are a force to be reckoned with,” he said, a twinkle in his dark eyes. “Those men never stood a chance.”

She cocked an eyebrow and took his elbow. “Which do you think they would choose to face? My ultimatum or your fist?”

He grinned, patting the hand on his elbow as he turned in the direction of the keep. “My fist, without question.”

Ellowyn’s expression softened and a grin surfaced. “Unfortunately, today they received both. They will think twice before they attempt to take your castle again.”

He simply lifted his eyebrows. “Of that I have no doubt.”

The keep of Guildford was strictly for the duke’s residence, as Ellowyn quickly discovered. After mounting a long flight of steep and at times treacherous stairs, the keep itself was three storied, with a big armory on the lower floor, accessible by an exterior door.  A wooden flight of stairs led to the first floor of the keep, which only contained one big room with a massive fireplace, and a latrine.  Brandt used the room as his solar, his war room when he was in residence.  There was a big oak table, scattered rubbish, and a pair of dogs near the hearth, but for the most part, the room looked stripped. 

A very narrow spiral staircase built into the wall of the keep led to another big room on the second floor.  This was Brandt’s bed chamber, but Ellowyn could see from the expression on his face that it was not how he left it.  It had been looted and items scattered, just like the solar below.  There was a wardrobe and an enormous bed that was a big, jumbled mess.  Surveying the chaos, Brandt shook his head.

“I apologize for the state of the room,” he said. “Whoever was staying here was most careless.”

Ellowyn ventured into the room, surveying the chamber as she went. When she came to the bed, she peered at the linens and coverlet without touching them. She made a face when she saw the state of the linen.

“No matter,” she said, eyeing the bed distastefully before turning to him. “I shall clean it up. Are there any women servants to assist me?”

Brandt shook his head. “I did not keep female servants,” he replied.  “They are far too much trouble.  My father never had female servants, either.”

Ellowyn eyed the dirty bed again. “Then if you can simply provide me with two or three soldiers, I can make do.  It is apparent that this keep has not seen a woman’s hand in some time. It shows.”

“I will not dispute that point.”

Ellowyn began to remove her wrap and gloves.  “Not to worry,” she said. “I shall make this place livable in no time.”

A smile creased his lips. “Of that I have no doubt,” he said softly. “If it will make your life easier, then I will find a few female servants to assist you.”

She pulled the gloves off, looking at him. “I would appreciate it,” she said. Then she started rattling off her priorities. “But until they arrive, I will need lye and vinegar and… oh, never mind. I can find it myself. I am sure you have more important duties to attend to.”

She was taking charge again.  “Nothing is more important than you,” he said softly.

Ellowyn paused in her bustle, eyeing him with a somewhat flirtatious smile. “That is a very sweet statement,” she said. “You are becoming quite adept at being sweet to me.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “It is becoming easier with practice.”

“You may practice all you wish.”

They grinned at each other for a moment until he made his way over to her and wrapped her up in his big arms. She was sweet and soft and supple, smelling of that lovely sesame oil that made her skin so soft.  He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her fragrance, losing himself in her deliciousness.

“This place has been in my family for many years,” he murmured. “It is where I was born, in this very room in fact. But it has only been a possession. It has never been a home.  Perhaps it is the closest thing I have to a home, however. Now, with you in its walls, perhaps… perhaps it will start to feel more like a home for my heart than a house for my body. Perhaps it will become something that means something to me rather than just a possession where I lay my head. Does that make any sense?”

Ellowyn pulled away to look him in the eye. “You lied to me.”

He looked shocked. “When did I do such a disgraceful thing?”

She smiled, touching his rough cheek. “You told me you were not good with word, but you lied,” she murmured. “You are very good with words.  You say the most wonderful things.”

His soft expression returned. “You have made it easy,” he whispered. “You have made a great many things easy for me, Wynny. It has endeared you to me more than you can possibly know.”

Gazing into his magnificent face, Ellowyn was struck with how much she loved the man. She didn’t know exactly when it had happened, but as she looked at him, she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t loved him. Powerful, commanding, handsome, kind, and sometimes socially awkward, Brandt had quickly come to mean everything to her.  And then he was going to go back to France and leave her all alone.  The knowledge of that tore her to shreds and tears filled her eyes.   She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

Brandt had seen the tears no matter how quickly she had moved to hide them.  He held her snuggly, his face in the side of her head.

“Why do you weep?” he murmured. “What is the matter?”

She shook her head. Then, she sobbed.  “I do not want you to leave me,” she whispered tightly. “Brandt, the thought of you returning to France, the thought of us being separated, claws at me like a great fanged beast.  Being apart from you will surely kill me.”

He didn’t say anything. He simply continued to hold her, but the truth was that he was thinking very heavily on what she had said.  Although he didn’t want to admit it, he was becoming increasingly distraught at the thought of leaving her behind as well. He knew he had to, but that didn’t change the emotions he was feeling. He loosened his grip on her, taking her face between his two great hands.

“If I said that the mere thought does not eat away at me as well, I would be lying,” he muttered, his dark eyes boring into her. “But I know, as a warrior, that I cannot bring you with me. My thoughts would be on you constantly, worrying over you or dreaming of you, and that would be the death of me. If my mind is not on what I am doing, then it makes it easier for someone to kill me.  Do you understand?”

She sniffled, nodding her head as she wiped her eyes. “I do,” she said, unhappy. “I hate that I do, but I understand.”

He rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs, kissing her forehead. “I find myself in a very peculiar position right now,” he said. “My focus, my career, has always been on Edward. Until I met you, I was anxious to return to him. Now I am not anxious at all. I am dreading it.”