Unending Love (27 page)

“My lord,” he greeted. “Your brother has been
sighted.”

David sighed with a huge amount of relief.  “How
far out is he?”

“Not far,” Gerid turned to the gatehouse and
pointed. “Perhaps a half mile or so.  It looks as if he is bringing half of the
Welsh Marches with him.”

David nodded as Gerid excused himself and ran
back towards the gatehouse. David followed, thinking of the past two weeks and
the anguish that had affected his family.  He was too close to the situation,
far too shaken to be of any real use, so he did what he’d done all his life
when he was in trouble; he sent for his brother.  He thought perhaps Christopher
could help, at least with the mental health of his family if not the physical
health.  Seeing Uncle Christopher would do them all a world of good because the
past fortnight had been very bad, indeed.

So he made his way to the heavy, squat gatehouse
just as his brother’s army appeared on a small rise in
[J47]
 
the road leading towards the castle.  He stood
there and watched the army come  closer, grow bigger, until he could make out
the knights and the infantry, and standard bearers hanging the blue and gold
banners of the Earl of Hereford and Worcester.  It was a truly awesome sight of
one of the finest fighting forces in England. As the army began to pass beneath
the portcullis, David could only feel relief.  In fact, he was nearly weak with
it.

His relief grew when he spied his brother
astride a big golden charger, heading in his direction.  The horse was a young
one, and hard to handle, but his brother was making a good show of it.  For an
elderly man, he was giving it all he had. David bit off a grin as the man came
within range.

“What are you doing with a horse like that?” he
demanded. “This animal will put you in your grave if you are not careful. What
does your wife say about it?”

Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and
Worcester, Baron Malvern and Leominster, First Guardian of the Welsh Marches,
and Keeper of the Borders, flipped up his visor and gave his brother a scowl.
But he couldn’t hold out long so he ended up laughing.

“Dustin tells me that I am old and foolish,” he
told him. “But it was a gift. My son, Douglas, gave me this animal for my
birthday a few months ago and I will be damned if I will let anyone else ride
the beast.  Already, my grandsons are begging to have the animal but I will not
surrender him. At least, not yet.”

David smiled at his brother, reaching out to
grab the enormous gloved hand that was extended to him.  It was a reassuring
moment, one of comfort and faith, of a human touch that David had sorely
missed.  He and his brother were closer than most, having fought together and
suffered innumerable tragedies and triumphs.  Christopher was the steady rock
and David was the fire. When they were apart, he missed him deeply.

“You should let them have it,” he said, shaking
the hand gratefully. “You are too old to be riding him. In fact, I do not
believe I have seen you dressed for battle in years.  You usually ride to the
rear in a less combative role.”

Christopher let go of his brother’s hand and
laboriously climbed off the charger.  He was a very big man, at least a head
taller than David, and older by three years.  As he moved near the head of the
horse, the animal turned on him and tried to bite him.  He slugged the beast in
the neck and handed him off to one of the weary foot soldiers as the army
passed him by.

“Damnable horse,” he muttered. “He has been
trying to bite me nearly the entire journey. I almost lost a hand.”

David shook his head. “Not a particularly
illustrious way to receive an injury for a man of your stature.”

Christopher conceded the point. “Definitely
not,” he said, getting a good look at his younger brother.  Usually handsome,
spry and healthy for a man of sixty-four years, he seemed to have aged
terribly. “God, you look old. What in the hell is going on around here?”

David’s smile faded. “Did you read my missive?”

“All of it. That is why I am here. But I want to
hear exactly what is happening, not an ambiguously worded missive.”

David gazed into the face, so very familiar, so
very wise, and finally shrugged his shoulders.

“I do not even know where to begin,” he said as
they both turned for the keep, their pace slow. “It all started when Adalind
returned from Winchester Castle a few weeks ago.  Suitors followed her,
fighting over her, making a nuisance of themselves.  But you cannot blame them
– Adalind has grown into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.”

Christopher was listening intently. “I do not
doubt it,” he said. “But what is this about Maddoc? How is he involved?”

David visibly sobered. “I betrothed him to
Adalind,” he said.  “Do you remember how she used to follow him around when she
was a young girl? She was like a puppy, following him everywhere.”

“I seem to remember something about that.”

“Her persistence must have paid off. When she
returned from Winchester, it took Maddoc three days to declare his interest in
her. She was thrilled, of course, and when Maddoc was not beating off suitors,
he and Addie spent a great deal of time together and eventually fell in love.”

Christopher lifted his eyebrows. “I am happy for
them, of course. But that does not explain the contents of your missive or why
I am here.”

David’s jaw began to tick. “A suitor, a knight
by the name of de Royans who serves Norfolk, challenged Maddoc for Addie’s hand,”
he said, feeling miserable even as he said it, as if he was living it all over
again. “It was a brutal battle, like nothing you have ever witnessed before,
and you and I have certainly seen our fair share of fights.  It all happened so
fast… Adalind tried to intervene and Maddoc was gored when he tried to protect
her. At least, that’s what I think
[J48]
 
happened.  As I said, it happened so fast that
before I knew it, Maddoc had a broadsword through his chest and de Royans
abducted Adalind.”

Christopher’s bearded features were grim. “Is
Maddoc dead?”

David shook his head. “Nay,” he replied,
“although God knows, he should be.  The wound was bad. The physic said it
punctured a lung and sliced other vital organs, but the wound did not kill him.
However, he has been gravely ill from infection the past several days. He has a
raging fever that is weakening him.  The physic seems to think that if he
continues along this path, he will not survive much longer.”

They came to a halt in the middle of the bailey
as the rest of Christopher’s army lumbered through the gatehouse.  Christopher
pulled off his helm and peeled back his hauberk, revealing a full head of hair
that once blond, had now turned mostly gray.  With his neatly trimmed beard
that he had kept since he had been a young man, he presented a strong and
stately appearance.  But at the moment, he looked despondent and worn.  The
news was sad, indeed.

“Did you send for Rhys?” he asked quietly.

David nodded.   “The same day I sent for you,”
he said. “He should be here at any time. If Maddoc passes, I want his father to
be with him.”

Christopher thought of Maddoc du Bois, the young
and strong and extremely skilled warrior he had knighted himself when Maddoc
had only been seventeen years of age.  His father, Rhys, had served Christopher
and when Maddoc grew into manhood, Christopher had seen his father’s strength
and brilliance in the serious young knight.   He was wise beyond his years and
vastly trustworthy. Every good quality a knight should have, Maddoc possessed. 
To see such genius come to such a tragic end was sickening.

“God,” he finally hissed. “I simply cannot
believe any of this. Rhys will be beside himself with grief.”

David nodded.  “I know,” he said quietly. “You
should also know that I have sent for Forbes.”

Christopher looked at him, surprised. “Gart?” he
repeated. “Why?”

David sighed heavily. “Because I need help in
recovering Adalind,” he said. “Rhys will be useless, as will Maddoc if the man
survives, and I am not entirely sure I can be rational about regaining my
granddaughter. All I want to do is kill de Royans and punish Norfolk for having
the audacity to command such a man.  If I am out of control, it will be up to
you to keep me sane, and if you are occupied with my madness, the rescue of
Adalind will fall to someone who is not so emotionally attached to the
situation.  That is why I need Gart. I need his wisdom and sense of control. 
There is no one finer.”

Gart Forbes, the man Adalind had seen in Winchester
those weeks ago, was a former vassal of the de Lohr war machine, a knight that
the foot soldiers used to call ‘
sach’
.  It was a loose Gaelic term for
madness, which adequately described Gart when the man was in the heat of
battle.  He had been David’s right hand those years ago, just as Rhys had been
Christopher’s. Both of these exceptional and powerful knights had eventually
left the House of de Lohr, establishing their own houses and their own
individual reputations for greatness. 

Now, they were returning to assist the de Lohrs
for one final and great mission, old men who would answer the call of duty one
last time.  It was both a pleasing and sobering thought, given the
circumstances for the reunion.  Still, Christopher rolled his eyes at his
brother’s statement. He couldn’t help himself. 

 “You must be insane,” he muttered.  “Gart will
roll over Norfolk like the hand of God and obliterate him completely.  He will
burn East Anglia to the roots and smite all to dust.  Once he is finished with
that, he will chop Norfolk and anyone associated with him into little pieces
and feed them to the dogs. The man is the devil.”

David grinned wearily at the dramatic
interpretation of Gart Forbes’ attributes. “That may be, but if you had to pick
one man to rescue one of your womenfolk, who would it be?”

Christopher wasn’t hard pressed to acknowledge the
point. He puffed out his cheeks and sighed heavily. “I suppose it would be
Forbes.”

“I thought so.”

They were nearing the keep, lost in
conversation, when a shout came from the gatehouse.  David and Christopher
turned to see a big knight astride a bulky brown warhorse approach.  The horse
was full of spirit and the knight rode him effortlessly.   David’s expression,
so recently heavy with grief, washed with joy and recognition.

“Daniel,” he breathed.

Christopher grinned. “I ran in to him on the
road about an hour go, heading in our direction,” he said. “I forgot to tell
you that I found your prodigal son.”

David was so glad to see Daniel that there were
tears in his eyes.  He smiled with true delight as Daniel brought his charger
to a halt and dismounted.

Tall like his Uncle Christopher but with his
father’s chiseled features and deep blue eyes, Daniel Hampton de Lohr, Lord
Thornden, looked like a Viking god.  Blond, muscular, and something of a wandering
spirit, he smiled broadly at his father as he removed helm.  Then he opened his
arms and sucked the man into a powerful embrace.

“Greetings, Father,” he said, releasing his
father so he could look the man in the eye. “Imagine my surprise when I ran
into Uncle Christopher’s army.  He said that you called him to Canterbury.”

David touched his son’s cheek as if to reassure
himself that he wasn’t dreaming. It had been months since he’d last seen his
boy.

“We were expecting you last week,” he said.
“What kept you?”

Daniel shrugged carelessly. “A lovely baron’s
daughter in Dorset,” he said. “In fact, her father wishes to speak with you but
do not listen to him. I did none of those things he has accused me of.”

Daniel truly had a lively, devil-may-care
personality.  He was the life of any gathering, the wit of any party.  He was
loved and revered by his family and friends.  As Christopher snorted at his
nephew, David shook his head reproachfully.

“Another father I must pay off because of a
compromised daughter?” he said, outrage in his tone. “I have raised you better
than that, Daniel.  What am I going to tell your mother – again?”

Daniel laughed, mostly because his uncle was
laughing and it truly was funny to watch his father stew.

“Tell her I am a rake and a cad, and that no
woman should ever trust me.” He snorted when his father scowled, and put his
arms around the man again, hugging him and kissing his head. “I jest with you,
I promise.  I simply like to see those veins on the side of your head throb.”

David just shook his head again, somewhat
disgusted, but mostly thrilled. He loved his son more than anything on earth,
rascal that he was.

“So now you have,” he said. “Satisfied?”

Daniel grinned. “Until the next time,” he said.
Then, his gaze moved over the keep he hadn’t seen in a long time. “You did not
answer my question – why is Uncle Christopher and his army here? What is
happening?”

David’s good humor left him.  He was dreading
telling Daniel given that he and Maddoc were very good friends. He had no idea
how his son was going to take the news.