Warden of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book 8) (16 page)

“I thought C-4 didn’t start fires,” Cassie said.

“The dust and rubble suppressed the fires that were burning in the keep before the explosion, but the shock wave probably knocked over an oil lamp in one of those huts,” Callum said.

Only the barracks, located on the opposite side of the bailey from the keep, were still intact
.
We needed to keep them that way.

“Was it foresight, my lord, that you didn’t bring the Treasury with you?” Ieuan spoke in an undertone about three inches from my ear.

I tried to laugh, but the sound came out forced. Ieuan, for all that he was trying to make a joke, actually had a point. I too was glad that it was no longer possible for the king to bring his gold with him wherever he went like in the old days. It had been necessary to do so because of the nomadic nature of the court. Not to boast, but my wealth wouldn’t fit in a few treasure chests and was back at Winchester under lock and key.

Justin stayed glued to my left shoulder. “I don’t feel comfortable with you so exposed, my lord. Someone tried to kill you. There could be more explosives, archers, or even an army of assassins within hailing distance of us right now. The castle is entirely indefensible.”

“That’s why I sent Lili and Arthur away,” I said, “and I’m not exactly wearing my crown, am I? Nobody but we few need to know where the King of England is right now.”

Rachel was holding onto Darren’s arm as they moved past me into the bailey. “My God,” she said.

“What were the injuries?” I said to her.

She raised one shoulder, and then turned towards me to answer more fully. “A twisted ankle from misstepping in the dark. One old fellow was feeling pains that might indicate an underlying heart condition. That’s about the extent of it.”

“We were very lucky,” Darren said.

“We need to keep making our own luck,” I said. “Let’s get some buckets, shall we?”

To their credit, nobody raised an eyebrow that the King of England was going to help put out the fire at the castle. They knew as well as I that we would need every helping hand before the sun rose.

The moat around the castle was fed by a small stream that ran between St. Mildred’s Church and the castle. Before we’d even reached the castle, Sir Thomas had sent someone to open the sluice gate wider, and the line of people passing buckets of water from hand to hand had already formed. It felt like a ridiculously pathetic effort, given the destroyed keep, but this was how fires were put out in the Middle Ages: one bucket at a time.

We joined the line of exhausted, strung-out people, many of whom had fled to the town initially but had since returned. Cassie tossed her braid over her shoulder and swung a bucket to me, which I caught and passed on to Ieuan. We’d found a spot in the middle of the line, within the confines of the bailey but still fifty yards from the keep. Bucket after bucket followed until my hands reddened from the wet, rough wooden handles. Another minute and blisters would start to form.

“Could Lee have gotten cold feet at the last minute, which is why he made it so the lights weren’t completely covered?” Cassie handed me another bucket. “Could he have meant to give us a fighting chance?”

Callum grunted as he handed a bucket on to her, having taken it from Rachel, who had taken it from Darren on her other side. “You have a kind heart.”

Her brow furrowed. “I’m serious.”

“I don’t see us as anything less than very, very lucky,” I said.

“Are you suggesting George was a plant?” Callum said. “That Lee left him in the castle to warn us?”

“Even then, it was only because I couldn’t sleep that I ran into George in the first place, and he showed me the light in the toilet,” I said. “Lee meant to kill us all.”

“All right,” Cassie said. “Just checking.”

I turned to look at her, surprised at her easy acquiescence, but Rachel said, “I get it. She’s playing the tenth man, though there are only nine of us here.”

“What’s that?” I said.

“If everyone agrees about something, it’s the duty of the tenth person to disagree as a matter of course,” Rachel said. “Isn’t that right, Cassie?”

Cassie nodded. “We’ve condemned the man, all of us. I’m trying to get inside his head.”

“I don’t know that you want to spend any time inside Lee’s head,” I said, “but the idea of the tenth man sounds useful, and I’ll keep it in mind. I am well aware that it’s very easy for everyone to agree with me all the time.”

“David,” Cassie said under her breath. “You do realize Callum talked to the Order about Lee for the same reason. He’d expressed his worries—”

“And I dismissed them,” I said. “Believe me, I know, and I’m grateful, even if it’s after the fact.”

“Lee was very charming when he wanted to be.” Cassie looked at her left hand, hissing at the new blister on her palm before passing another bucket to me with her right hand.

Seeing Justin approach, I made a slashing motion with my hand to stop the conversation and stepped out of line. I turned the gesture into a welcoming one to him, while saying to my friends, “We’ll consider this later.”

“My lord.” Justin hadn’t been helping with the fire because he’d been inspecting what defenses remained, talking to the guards at the gates, and patrolling among the survivors. He didn’t believe the threat was over. The moment we arrived, he’d climbed onto the walls—those that were still standing that is—to supervise the men and women watching from them.

“Are we being attacked?” I said.

“Not at the moment, sire.”

I put a hand on his shoulder, knowing it was unfair to mock him. “I’m sorry. I’m tired.”

“You need sleep, sire,” he said.

“We all do.”

“Sire.” Sir Thomas had followed closely behind Justin, and he bowed before me.

“You have your work cut out for you,” I said. “Are you up to the task?”

“It depends upon what you want done, sire.” Thomas indicated the destruction behind me. “As soon as the fire is put out, I can start the salvage work. If you want the castle rebuilt, that will take considerable time and money.”

“Salvage what you can for now. No doubt the interior is a total loss. We’ll confer later about where we go from here, though—” I rubbed the end of my nose in thought, “—I think we need to rebuild this castle.”

“I can’t disagree, my lord,” Thomas said.

Justin had stepped briefly into my place in the bucket line while I spoke with Thomas, but now he pointed with his chin towards the town gate. “Archbishop Peckham has arrived, my lord.”

I looked where he’d indicated. Sure enough, a small party had entered the bailey. One of Peckham’s servants helped the Archbishop out of his carriage, and then he stood in the dirt of the bailey, one hand to his mouth and a second clutching the hand of the man who’d helped him. Archbishop Romeyn alighted beside him. Both men appeared to have dressed hastily, as we all had, though Peckham was wrapped in a thick cloak and wore a woven hat pulled down close over his ears to keep out the cold.

“I’d better see to them,” I said.

Acquasparta had not come, a fact for which he could be forgiven, given the hour and his illness. Peckham shouldn’t have been here either, which I said to him when I reached him.

“I had to come. Some said you—” He broke off, unable to finish his sentence.

“I am not dead, as you can see.”

Peckham transferred his clutching hand to my arm. “I am so glad, my dear boy.” He took a breath, as if hesitating to speak, and then said, “You don’t think this has anything to do with … with …”

“The incident yesterday?” I said. “I can’t say as yet. Do you have some reason to think the two events might be linked?”

Peckham’s eyes were fixed on the ruined keep. “How did this happen?” He took a few steps past me to where Sir Thomas stood. The castellan bowed and took the Archbishop’s other arm to assist him.

I looked beyond him to Romeyn, whose face was very grave. I’d never seen a churchman in breeches and shirt, but that’s what Romeyn wore, his brown cloak frayed at the edges and his boots scuffed and unpolished from much use.

“I am glad to see you before me, sire.”

“It was a near thing,” I said.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

“Is anywhere safe after this?” I said.

Romeyn looked at me carefully, his eyes narrowing. “I’m guessing you wouldn’t be here if you thought there was real danger. Do you know who did this, sire?”

“I know who brought the castle down,” I said. “I am still in the dark as to why or with whom he might be working. Perhaps you have a thought?”

Romeyn blanched. “I’m sure I couldn’t say.”

I just looked at him.

“Sire—Acquasparta could have nothing to do with this,” Romeyn said, replying to the conclusion I’d drawn but hadn’t articulated. “He couldn’t.”

“He incited a riot to catch a heretic,” I said. “Why would the destruction of a castle be beyond him?”

“I know what he did, but surely—” Romeyn stopped, pressing his lips together tightly. Then he bowed. “If the events are linked, if Acquasparta has had any hand in the destruction before us, I would urge you to find out.”

I canted my head. “I intend to.”

Peckham was back. His hand shook as he put it on my forearm but his voice no longer wavered. “What could have caused this destruction?”

“The castle was brought down by an explosive force more powerful than black powder,” I said bluntly.

Peckham let go of my arm at my vehemence. Then he gave me a rueful smile, showing that he was gaining control of his shock. “If there is anything I can do for you, my dear boy, anything, please let me know.”

“Actually, if you had a spare bed,” I said, “for me and my companions, I would be grateful.”

Dawn was nearly upon us, but being twenty-three didn’t mean I could get by on no sleep at all, not if I was going to be capable of decision-making anytime soon. And I needed to be.

“Of course! Of course! It would be my honor.” Peckham’s eyes strayed to the keep again.

“My people and I will arrive shortly.”

He nodded and moved towards his carriage, but then he turned back. “Will your party include the queen and Prince Arthur?” He gazed around the bailey. “I don’t see them.”

“They are well. I have sent them elsewhere for their own safety.”

“Good. Good.”

I gestured to where Cassie and Rachel were still passing buckets in the line. “Two women will be among us.”

“I will make the necessary arrangements.” Peckham reentered the carriage.

Romeyn waited until Peckham was seated before entering himself.

I put a hand on the window frame. “Be careful. There is much here that we don’t yet understand.”

Romeyn bowed his head. “Sire.”

Ieuan came up beside me to watch the archbishops leave.

“I neglected to ask you earlier if Bronwen objected to leaving with Lili,” I said.

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” Ieuan said. “And of course she didn’t. Bronwen was shaken up like we all are, but she’s sensible.” He leaned in. “I know they don’t like it, and they think it’s sexist of you, but you were right to send them away, if only for the sake of the children.”

I blinked. “I can’t believe you know that word.”

He raised his eyebrows. “In my household? How could I not know it?”

Callum approached. “Have you seen enough, sire?”

I lifted a hand and then dropped it in a helpless gesture. In truth, there wasn’t much of anything I could do here. It had been important to come back. The people needed to see me, to know that I hadn’t died and that I cared enough about them not to leave them to their own devices. Perhaps nobody would have blamed me for leaving for Chilham with Lili since we weren’t going to rebuild this castle tonight. But I wouldn’t have it said, especially after yesterday’s riot, that I’d turned tail and run. If I had enemies in England who were working secretly with Lee, I wouldn’t give them that ammunition to use against me.

Chapter Fifteen

W
e left the castle. The fire was almost out, and the people were dispersing throughout Canterbury. Morning would bring enough work to keep everyone occupied for many days and weeks to come. I left a small guard—the bulk of the normal castle garrison—to watch over what remained. With the barracks still intact, along with the gatehouse where Sir Thomas’s quarters were, they had a place to lay their heads if they took it in shifts. The bodies of Mike and Noah still lay in their room in the barracks. Sir Thomas said he’d speak to the priest at St. Mildred’s about a burial.

The rest of us rode along the same street that led to the Archbishop’s Palace on which I’d traveled yesterday. The circumstances were so dramatically different, it was hard to believe the town itself remained unchanged, barring the dust from the castle that had settled on everything.

As we passed under the gatehouse at the town gate, onlookers made way for us. Despite the early hour, townspeople were lining up to cross the drawbridge going the other way, to get a look at the fallen castle and to help put out the flames. As I passed, people pressed in around my horse, patting my leg and the horse’s withers, expressing their relief that I lived. After the incident with the heretic, I hadn’t been entirely sure what my standing might be with them, but there was nothing like a crisis to bring people together in support of their leader. Wars had always been good for that. And, apparently, so were exploded castles.

Justin edged up on my right while Ieuan buttressed me on the left, both uncomfortable with the people getting so close. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have protested, but I also knew that the threat against me was real. My companions were only trying to keep me alive. Still, with more enthusiasm than I’d shown yesterday, I raised a hand to people hanging out of upper story windows.

“Perfect.” Cassie spoke from behind me, and I turned to look at her, my expression questioning. She pointed towards the sky. “It’s starting to rain.”

I let out a laugh, more in relief than genuine humor. It
was
perfect. We needed the rain. Still, I was grateful it didn’t start in earnest until we were within a few yards of the Archbishop’s palace. This time, the gate was already open when we reached it, and we rode straight under the gatehouse and across the cobbles to the front door. I slid off Cadfan, and took a moment to rest my forehead against his withers.