Dark Destroyer (41 page)

Stephan was saddened but he understood. “Of course,” he said quietly. “Shall I have your horse ready for you?”

Gates nodded. “Aye,” he said. “And if you would not mind packing my belongings and putting them on my horse, I would be grateful. Once the mass is completed, I am leaving for good.”

Both Stephan and Tobias nodded. “Aye, we will,” Stephan said. “Is there anything else?”

Gates thought on that a moment. Then, he went to his wardrobe and took out a clean, red woolen tunic along with a small leather purse at the bottom of the cabinet. He set the purse on the bed as he pulled the tunic over his head, settling it on his big frame, and then retrieved the purse. He pulled several coins out of the purse and handed them to Stephan.

“You will look in on Helene of Linley from time to time,” he said. “Make sure she and the child are fed. Will you do this?”

Stephan took the money. “Of course.”

Gates looked at the man a moment, a man he’d seen years of battle with. A man who was his close friend. He put his hand on Stephan’s cheek.

“Thank you for your friendship and sword,” he said softly. “If you need me, you know where to find me. But you will not tell anyone else. Understood?”

Stephan nodded firmly. “Indeed, my lord.”

Gates was satisfied. He then turned to Tobias, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “And you,” he said, nodding his head in Stephan’s direction. “Listen to this old man and you will live a long and healthy life. Will you do this?”

Tobias nodded. “I will, my lord.”

“And you know my whereabouts, too, but you will tell no one.”

“A thousand instruments of torture could not drag it out of me.”

Gates smiled ironically. “Let us hope it does not come to that,” he said, giving the lad one last pat before dropping his hands. “Good knights, it would seem I am expected at a wedding. Will you escort me to the hall?”

Stephan and Tobias did, gladly, but there was great sadness in their movements. Gates saw it but he hardly cared, mostly because it was taking everything he had simply to put one foot in front of the other, heading towards the great hall where the priest waited to join the woman he loved in marriage to another man. He kept praying it was a dream and that he would soon awaken, with Kathalin in his arms and the love between them growing deeper by the moment.

But he knew that was not the case. He was living a nightmare. He had fleeting regrets about not bedding Kathalin, simply because it would have been a demonstration of his love for her, but he knew it was better this way. He knew that once he had a taste of her flesh, his honor would leave him and he would become the dishonorable rogue who ran off with Alexander de Lohr’s bride. He knew that any taste of her beyond what he’d already sampled would have turned him into a mindless primitive, a being led by feelings his common sense could not overcome. But in his case, it would be more than lust. It was love as he’d never known it.

And never would again.

Once the three of them reached the bailey, the great hall loomed before them in the darkness. The rain was growing heavy at this point and the long, lancet windows cut into the side of the building were glowing from the light and warmth emitting from inside. The entry door was open and he could see illumination beyond and he could also see figures standing in the doorway.

Of course, it was the priest and Jasper and the de Lohrs preparing for the ceremony at the door to the hall before proceeding inside and heading to the small chapel that was just off the west side of the hall. The chapel wasn’t big enough to hold more than six people at any time, a tiny room where generations of de Laras had worshipped. Tonight, it would see a man’s life ruined.

Stephan and Tobias moved away from Gates midway through the bailey and let the man continue on his own to the hall. Step by step, inch by inch, Gates felt as if he were going to his own execution. Everything for him would end on this night, the life he had never hoped for but found himself wanting.

The love he would never fully know.

Death, to him, would have been preferable.

It was upon her.

Kathalin and Lady de Lohr approached the great hall in the darkness of the bailey, through the cold rain that was falling on them, and Kathalin could see the men gathered outside the door of the great hall where the beginning of the marriage mass would take place. The priest would begin the mass at the entry before gathering the wedding party and proceeding inside, which was the normal protocol. As Kathalin drew closer to the door, which was emitting light into the darkness of the bailey, she realized that the time was finally upon her. No more pleading, no more bargaining or begging. Now, it was finished.

It was time to marry Alexander.

The realization was like a stab to her heart and the tears started, mingling with the freezing rain that was falling upon them with increasing strength. Her careful hair dressing was becoming wet, as was her gown, and by the time she and Lady de Lara reached the doorway, the priest was ushering everyone inside and out of the rain. It was beginning to rain in epic proportions and a change of location would have to be made. The mass would have to be started, and finished, inside.

The fire in the hearths were burning brightly and Lady de Lohr gently pulled Kathalin over to the closest one, now concerned with drying the woman out. It was very cold, and Kathalin was shivering violently, and Lady de Lohr sent the nearest servant for something hot for the woman to drink. The priest, seeing that the bride and the groom’s family were gathered over near the hearth closest to the door, made his way to them.

“It is of no matter to begin the mass in here, my lord,” the priest said to Jasper. “It will keep my book from becoming soaked if there is a roof over our heads.”

Jasper, who had been drinking fairly steadily since having left Gates about a half hour earlier, simply waved the priest off. He had a fourth cup of wine in his hand and he wanted to be done with this entire situation, as stressful as it had been. After everything that had happened over the past few days, he was coming to regret ever having a daughter. His mood, therefore, was foul.

“Fine,” he snapped. “We are waiting for one more guest and when he arrives, you will begin.”

The priest nodded. “What of Lady de Lara, my lord?”

Jasper glanced at him, sharply, before grunting in disgust. “She will
not
attend,” he said deliberately. “We are waiting for one more man only and not my wife.”

Elreda, standing with Kathalin and trying to dry the poor woman off, heard Jasper’s comment. “We could wait for her, Jasper,” she said. “In fact, I will go to her chamber and escort her down here.”

Jasper was shaking his head before she even finished. “Nay,” he said shortly. “She does not come out of her chamber. She never comes out of her chamber. She stays in there and rots.”

Jasper’s drunken words were harsh. Henry, standing with Alexander, didn’t want to get caught up in a tussle between his wife and Jasper. He put out a hand, mostly to interrupt any manner of argument that might be starting.

“Certainly we can conduct the mass and if Lady de Lara chooses to attend the feast afterwards, it will be most agreeable,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Jasper, I forgot to tell you that I have brought four bottles of good red wine from Spain. I will bring them forth after our children are wed.”

Jasper was interested in the wine, enough so that it forced him off the subject of his wife. As he and Henry began to discuss the region where the wine originated, somewhere in the Andalucia region, Kathalin held her hands out over the fire and tried to warm herself. Elreda was behind her, shaking out the back of her surcoat and trying to wring the mud out of it, and as Kathalin rubbed at her hands, she heard a quiet voice beside her.

“I see that you let my mother have her way with your hair,” Alexander said. “You look quite lovely.”

Kathalin looked over at the man standing next to her. He was smiling timidly at her, his handsome features reflecting the firelight. His golden hair had been neatly combed and he had even shaved. When he smiled, the dimples in both cheeks were deep. Aye, he was a very handsome man but all Kathalin saw when she looked at him was sorrow. She sighed heavily.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Alex, please know how sorry I am that you are being forced into this. I am sure this is not how you ever imagined you would be married.”

His smile turned ironic. “Nor you,” he said, his eyes lingering on her a moment. “The situation cannot be changed, my lady. I will make the best of it if you will.”

Kathalin nodded but her eyes were beginning to well. “Gates told me to be good to you,” she said, choking up. “I promise that I will do my very best.”

“I know you will.”

“I hope… I hope we will at least come to like each other. I could not bear it if you resented me.”

He shook his head. “Nor could I bear it if you hated me,” he said quietly. “I swear to you, Kathalin, that I will do my very best to make you a good husband. It is the least I can do to make this situation pleasant for the both of us.”

Kathalin nodded as the tears spilled over, and Alexander was seized with sympathy for the woman. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but somehow, it didn’t seem right. He didn’t want this marriage and neither did she, but at least he didn’t have the added burden of being in love with someone else. So he stood there, close to her, watching her weep and wishing he could say something to her that would bring them both comfort. As he stood there, wondering what he could say, he saw movement in the hall entry.

Looking over Kathalin’s head, his eyes locked with Gates as the man entered. The storm outside was raging and Gates was fairly soaked, and his eyes found Alexander’s right away. It was a poignant moment for them both, one full of a thousand unspoken words of thanks, of sorrow, and of friendship until Gates finally nodded, once, as if to acknowledge that he had arrived and that he was ready for what was to come. Perhaps not completely ready, but as ready as he would ever be. But then his gaze moved to Kathalin’s lowered head and it was then that Alexander saw just how distraught Gates still was. By his sheer expression, the man was being torn apart. Before Alexander could move to him, however, Jasper caught sight of the knight.

“Ah!” Jasper said, thumping the priest on the arm to get the man’s attention. “Our last guest has arrived. You may begin. Gates! Attend me!”

Kathalin’s head shot up at the sound of Gates’ name being shouted and she turned around to see the man as Jasper went to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him up to the hearth. Gates’ gaze found her, through the people and the smoke around them, and he gave her a small smile, an encouraging one, as if to silently tell her that everything was going to be all right. Of course, it wasn’t going to be all right and they both knew it. Kathalin couldn’t even manage to smile back.

In fact, she realized she shouldn’t be looking at him at all. The sight of him threatened to destroy her composure completely so she quickly turned around and faced the hearth, telling herself that there was no use in thinking on the man. There was no use in looking at him or even acknowledging that he was standing behind her. For once, for just this once, she had to be strong and not think of him and pretend none of this mattered because, for certain, the alternative was a complete collapse which, in the end, wouldn’t stop the wedding. It would only delay it, and there was no use in delaying the destiny that had been chosen for her.

A destiny without Gates.

So she faced the hearth, tears still streaming down her face in silent protest of what was about to take place, each tear representing a fragment of her heart that had been splintered away. So many fragments poured down her cheeks and she kept wiping at them, dashing them away, and trying not to be too obvious about it. It occurred to her that her tears might be an insult to Alexander, who was trying to be kind to her in this dismal hour. Therefore, she tried very hard to stop those fragments of liquid emotion that poured down her cheeks.

It was the most difficult fight of her life.

The priest, not oblivious to the weeping bride, had Alexander face him and then positioned Kathalin on Alexander’s left side, as woman was created from Adam’s left rib according to the church doctrine. Father Wenceslaus, a slender man with heavy, dark eyebrows and hair growing out of his nose, eyed Alexander and Kathalin seriously.

“We shall begin,” he said. “I will ask the guests in attendance if any of them can show just cause as to why you two should not be married, and then I shall ask you the same question. Can anyone tell me why this couple should not be joined?”

The question went out to the group. Kathalin closed her eyes tightly, cringing as she waited for Gates to speak up. Perhaps she was praying that he would, hoping beyond hope that the man would denounce what was happening to the woman he loved. In fact, every person in the room other than the priest was waiting for the same thing, but Gates remained silent in the matter. He was staring at the priest without saying a word. Elreda and Henry sighed with relief as Jasper glared at Gates, who refused to meet the man’s eye. The priest, not receiving any response, turned the question on Alexander and Kathalin.

“My lady,” he said, “my lord? Do either of you have any cause or reason why you may not be joined in matrimony?”

Now it was everyone else’s turn to hold their breaths as the question focused on Kathalin. Tears were still trickling from her eyes, less now, but she did nothing more than reach up and flick them away. She kept her mouth shut to the question because she knew that it would do no good for her to speak up.
I am in love with another man!
No one would care about that. She would be considered disrespectful and, in turn, make Alexander look like a fool. Gates had asked her to be good to him.

She didn’t want to disobey Gates.

So she said nothing, sickened that no one would speak up for the travesty going on. If the priest sensed that there was an entire hall full of unspoken protests, he didn’t let on. He simply opened the liturgy book in his hand and lifted his arm, open palm out, to the bridal couple.

“Let us pray,” he said.

“Wait!”

The cry came from the back of the hall, near the door, and everyone turned sharply to see a swaddled figure standing there. Kathalin, Elreda, and Jasper recognized the person immediately.

“Rosamund!” Jasper gasped, leaving Gates’ side to go to his wife. “What in God’s good name are you doing here?”

Rosamund held up a hand to Jasper, forbidding him to come any closer to her. She was soaking wet and the veil around her face was clinging to her skin, transparently, making her sunken face fairly visible. She appeared feeble and twisted, but the bright blue eyes were strong. They were fixed on Jasper.

“I had to come, Jasper,” she said quietly. “I… had to.”

Jasper looked at her, perplexed, but also increasingly horrified. He could see his wife’s face quite plainly through the wet fabric and, having not seen it for years, was stunned at what he was seeing.

“Why?” he asked again, disgust for her appearance marking his features. “You made no mention of wanting to attend this wedding.”

Rosamund nodded. “I know,” she said. “But I had to. I fear I must stop it.”

Jasper’s eyes widened. “What’s this you say?” he said, shocked. “You intend to
stop
it?”

Rosamund nodded and her gaze moved to Kathalin, standing over near the hearth. Her gaze softened. “Jasper, it was wrong of us to do this to Kathalin,” she said. “We have gone our entire lives wronging the child because she was born a girl. Do you recall how disappointed you were? You had wanted another son, like Roget, but when Kathalin was born, you refused to look at her for an entire month. When she was an infant, you did not even want her around. I told her that we sent her to St. Milburga’s because I did not want her to contract my disease but that was not entirely the truth. The reality is that you did not want her here. It is the reason behind sending her away more than my disease was.”

Jasper was turning red in the face. “Must we discuss this now?” he said through clenched teeth. “This entire room of people does not need to hear our business, Rosamund.”

Rosamund looked at her husband, her veil lifting when she sighed with exasperation. “They already know our business,” she said. “They know that you want to wed Kathalin to Alex to form an alliance with the House of de Lohr. They know that you have denied Gates’ suit for Kathalin even though both Gates and Alex begged you to reconsider. Think, Henry; think back to the days when I was young and beautiful, and you were madly in love with me. Are you so old and hard that you cannot remember those days of glory? I can. I remembered them today when Elreda reminded me of such things. I remember when I was beautiful and you loved me still. I remember the joy of those days. It took a while for me to recall them, but I do now. I supposed I had shut them out, but this afternoon, I remembered. It all came back to me.”

Jasper wasn’t sure what to say or how to react. He was feeling increasingly embarrassed by the appearance of his wife, who was not only contradicting his wishes for this marriage but also showing her diseased face.

“Go back to your chamber, Rosamund,” he said. “You are not well. Your mind is not well.”

Rosamund chuckled ironically. “My mind is perfectly sane,” she said, shuffling away from Jasper and heading in the direction of the people gathered at the hearth. She looked at Elreda, who was blinking back tears.