Tender is the Knight (19 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

              “Dennis would have come himself, but you must understand that Lady d’ Vants injury requires that he remain at her side,” Riston said. “He has sent me in his stead to explain to you what has happened and request assistance.”

             
In Richard’s lavish solar, Riston stood looking weary and beaten.   Seated behind him with a cup of warmed mead in hand, Lyla wept softly as Thomas stood next to her, genuinely distressed.   Riston and Lyla had appeared not a half hour early telling tales of sieges and pirates and grave injuries.  It was overwhelming information that both Thomas and Richard were still trying to grasp.

             
“What happened to my daughter?” Thomas demanded. “You have said she was injured in the siege. How was she injured?”

             
Riston turned to look at him; he’d been in battle for two solid days and then in the saddle, riding to Launceston for another two days and part of a night.  He couldn’t seriously remember the last time he slept and was verging on collapse. As a result, his patience was thin and his manner edgy.  

             
“We were under siege from Miguel the Pirate,” he said, omitting ‘my lord’ because he was simply too tired to care. “Lady d’ Vant, against her husband’s wishes, was assisting the wounded and was struck by an arrow in the process.”

             
Thomas went weak in the knees. “Where was she struck?”

             
“In the chest,” Riston said, his voice quieting. “We have no physic since the assault on St.  Austell by Launceston forces two months ago.  Our surgeon was killed. Dennis sent for a surgeon in Falmouth.  The man was arriving just as I was departing. I do not know the current condition of Lady d’ Vant.”

             
Thomas’ legs would not support him any longer; he sank into the nearest chair, his features a mask of grief.  Beside him, Lyla sobbed softly.

             
“She was only trying to help,” she wept.

             
Thomas turned to Lyla, tears in his eyes. “Were you with her when it happened?” he asked. “Where in her chest was she struck?”

             
Lyla pointed to a spot just above the right breast. “Here,” she said. “The arrow went deep.  Dennis had to remove it himself and plug the hole.  He… he wept the entire time.”

             
Thomas looked at her, shocked. “And Ryan? Was she in great pain?”

             
Lyla shook her head.  “She was not conscious,” she told him. “She is in no pain.”

             
“Is she still unconscious?”

             
Lyla nodded. “She was when we left.”

             
Thomas stared at his niece a moment longer before rising unsteadily from the chair.  He wandered to the lancet window that overlooked the bailey, anguish swelling in his chest.

             
“That was almost four days ago,” he muttered.  “So much could have happened since then.  So… much.”

  As
Thomas wallowed in grief, Richard, who had thus far sat silently through the exchange, spoke quietly.

             
“Are you sure it was Miguel?” he asked. “He is usually in southern waters this time of year.”

             
Riston nodded wearily. “It was him,” he said. “We saw his ships in the bay, all four of them. He came with hundreds of men, ravaged the city, and very nearly overran the castle.  His men managed to breach the outer bailey and we spent many hours fighting them in the dead of night but when the sun rose, they suddenly retreated.”

             
Richard pondered the information. “Why do you suppose they left? Why did they not finish what they started?”

             
Riston sighed heavily. “They suffered heavy losses, my lord,” he replied. “That is the only explanation that makes any sense.”

             
Richard thought on that, on the men he had loaned Miguel to accomplish the deed.  They were Launceston men dressed as pirates and not to be recognized by those at St. Austell. He wondered how many men he had lost in the battle, frustrated in more ways than one at Riston’s tale.   Certainly, he was quite upset over Ryan’s injury.  It wasn’t supposed to happen; that had not been a part of his plan.

             
“Did they weigh anchor and leave the bay?” Richard asked after a moment.

             
Riston nodded. “The ships left quickly. I suppose they did not want to give us the opportunity to retaliate.”

             
So Miguel had fled. Richard was furious about it but he kept his composure.  He was furious about a great many things at the moment.  Rising, he moved to the pitcher of wine and poured himself a measure into a fine pewter cup.

             
“What state is St. Austell in?” he asked.

             
Riston accepted the cup of wine that the earl was extending to him. “In terrible shape, my lord,” he said, smacking his lips after a long drink.  “Our northern wall was already weakened after our most recent bout with Launceston and Miguel’s attack weakened it further.  Several of our out buildings, including the stables, were burned.  Because Miguel burned and looted the town, the villagers sought refuge in the castle and overran the keep.  Great damage was done.  My lord, we are in desperate need.”

             
Richard had poured himself a cup of wine, now listening impassively to Riston’s plea. “What can we do?”

             
“Send us supplies,” Riston said without hesitation. “Food and feed for our horses.  Building material such as wood and thatch because our stables must be rebuilt. Men to help us rebuild because our men are weary and beaten. Anything you can send us would be gratefully accepted.”

             
Richard thought on the request. “We will send what we can,” he said, already thinking about how much he was not going to send them. “For now, I am sure you are weary and would like to rest.”

             
Riston shrugged. “Although I would like to, I must return as soon as I can.  Dennis is in great need of me.”

             
Richard waved him off. “Rest first,” he insisted.  “You will kill yourself if you try to return to St. Austell in your condition.  Lyla, please take the knight to Ryan’s room.   He may rest there.”

             
Lyla, sniffling, obediently rose from her chair and moved to the chamber door.  Riston set down his wine and wearily followed.  Once they were outside in the keep entry, Lyla took Riston by the hand.

             
“I will show you,” she said softly.

             
Riston pulled her to a stop just as they came to the narrow spiral stairs that led to the upper chambers.  It was so very dark so very close in Launceston’s small keep, made for miniature people as far as Riston was concerned.  But it was quite pleasing when one wanted to be close to another person as he wanted to be close to Lyla.   When she came to a stop and looked at him inquisitively, he cupped her face in his big hands and smiled at her.

             
“You have been very brave since all of this started,” he said softly. “You were very brave when you were helping Dennis with Ryan and you were very brave on the ride to Launceston. I would like to offer my respect and esteem for your strength.”

             
Lyla gazed up into his eyes, managing to smile tremulously. She was thrilled, nervous, exhausted, and filled with sorrow.  It made for an odd combination.

             
“Patrizia did more to help Dennis than I did,” she insisted weakly. “She was very calm and helpful.”

             
“But you rode two days and a night with me to Launceston,” he murmured. “Patrizia did not do that. Only you had the strength.”

             
“I could not let you go alone.”

             
He smiled, dipping his head to kiss her softly on the lips.  Without another word, he took her hand and gently led her up the stairs into the darkened chambers beyond.

             
Back in the earl’s solar, there was a good deal of silence filling the room as Thomas and Richard pondered the situation at St. Austell and Ryan’s condition.  Douglas had entered the solar at this point and the three of them stood silently, lost to their thoughts.  It was Thomas who finally spoke.

             
“I must go to Ryan,” he muttered. “I will take two hundred men with me. They will help those at St. Austell in rebuilding the outbuildings and the wall.”

             
“Hold, Thomas,” Richard said. “Let us not be too hasty.  If St. Austell is truly so damaged, then….”

             
“Your plans have been realized,” Thomas whirled on him, cutting him off. “Miguel did what he was supposed to do but somewhere in the midst of your treacherous plans, my daughter has become a victim. In fact, she has been a pawn for your evil scheme since Dennis d’ Vant first sent you a missive describing his peace proposal.  How in the world you could so badly use a young lady who has done nothing to warrant it is beyond me.  I should have never permitted you to contact Miguel. God, what was I thinking?”

             
Richard’s demeanor grew dark. “You have no control over me,” he hissed. “St. Austell belongs to me… to
me,
do you hear? No one is sorrier for Ryan’s injury but it is an unfortunate byproduct of the greater need.”

             
“Need?” Thomas shouted. “This is not a need, Richard; this is your sick determination to control everything and everyone around you. This is not a need!”

             
Richard was growing angry. “You will not dictate to me in my own home,” he growled. “I forgive you because you are distraught over Ryan, but do not let it happen again.”

             
Thomas just stared at him.  The man had no concept of what he had done.  All he knew was greed and an overwhelming need to dominate St. Austell.  After a moment, Thomas finally shook his head.
              “I am going to Ryan,” he said hoarsely, heading for the chamber door. “I am taking two hundred men that are personally sworn to me for the purpose of helping St. Austell. If you do not like what I am doing, then you can go to the devil.”

             
With that, he quit the chamber, leaving Richard and Douglas standing in silence.  De Lohr’s gaze was fixed on the earl, for he was tending to side with his liege.  He too had been fighting St. Austell for quite some time and unlike Richard, had no emotional investment in the peace treaty.  He had no daughter involved.  He wanted to see St. Austell destroyed as much as Richard did.

             
“Orders, my lord?” Douglas asked quietly.

             
Richard heard the softly uttered words and he sighed heavily.  After a moment, he sank into his cushioned chair.

             
“I fear Thomas has lost his sense of loyalty,” he muttered. “It is my fault, really. With Ryan involved, it is natural that he feels some sense of loyalty to St. Austell because Ryan is now married to their lord. I fear of what he will do, Douglas.  I fear he will betray us.”

             
Douglas came out of the shadows and slowly approached the earl. “What will you have me do, my lord?”

             
Richard was thoughtful as he raked his thin fingers through his hair.  It was evident that he was mulling over something great and troubling.

             
“You have seen Thomas for yourself,” he said softly. “I fear we have lost him.”

             
Douglas didn’t like that thought.  “Captain de Bretagne is your loyal servant, my lord. I cannot believe that….”

             
“You saw for yourself,” Richard said, interrupting him. “He told me to go to the devil. That means he will do what he pleases for Ryan’s best interests.  Therefore, I fear we have lost him.”

             
“I still cannot believe that to be truth, my lord.”

             
Richard fell silent for a moment.  “As much as it pains me to say so, we may have to make him a martyr for the cause,” he said. “He is taking two hundred men with him to St. Austell, men personally sworn to him.   Undoubtedly, they will go as allies, which means the castle will be open to them.   What if… what if Thomas was to be murdered whilst visiting St. Austell on a peaceful mission? What if a St. Austell assassin murdered him? His men would naturally retaliate.  If they were already lodged within St. Austell, they could finish what Miguel started.  They could destroy it from within. They could, once and for all, conquer St. Austell and destroy the d’ Vant war machine.”

             
Douglas didn’t look convinced. “What St. Austell assassin? Who would do such a thing?”