De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (15 page)

“Come with me,” she said quietly.

Tab followed, unhappy, until he realized that his mother was returning to the smithy shack. The smithy had already put the small swords away but Nicola had the man present them again, much to Tab’s delight. As the boy fawned over the weaponry, Nicola turned her head in Kenton’s direction and spoke loudly.

“I do not know what would make a good sword for you, Tab,” she said to Kenton’s turned back. “I would hope that someone knowledgeable in such things would help us decide.”

Kenton would have had to be deaf not to hear her but instead of turning in her direction, he headed the other way, back towards the wagon. It was clear that he did not wish to speak with her in any case. Undeterred, Nicola scurried after him.

“Sir Kenton,” she called. When he kept walking, she came to a frustrated halt and raised her voice. “Sir Kenton,
please!
”

He slowed his pace before coming to an unsteady halt, turning in her direction. The expressionless face was hard. “How may I be of service, Madam?”

So he was going to be difficult about it. Nicola braced herself. “Will you please help Tab select a sword?” she asked politely.

To her surprise, he shook his head. “Nay, Madam,” he said. “As you pointed out, he is not my son. It would be presumptuous to make any decisions for him.”

Nicola tried not to become angry at his stubborn stance. She had caused it and she knew it, so she did the only thing she could. She apologized.

“It was wrong of me to say that,” she said, lowering her voice. “Forgive me. But I… I have never had anyone take such an interest in my children. Not even their father. I simply… Sir Kenton, it is my job to protect them. I have tried to be both mother and father to them, as their father would not be bothered with his own children. To see you take interest in my son… mayhap you can understand or mayhap you cannot… he likes you a great deal and he must not become attached to the man who holds him and everything he owns captive. I cannot let you hurt or influence him, yet you have been very kind to him. I find it all very confusing and confusion makes me protective. I cannot explain it any better than that.”

Her halting apology took some of the sting out of Kenton. The truth was that he hadn’t thought of it from Nicola’s point of view, only his own. With a pensive sigh, he made his way over to her, slowly, looking at the ground as he walked as if there were a good deal on his mind. He came to stand in front of her, still looking at his feet as if mulling over something great and troubling. When he finally spoke, it was quietly.

“It is not my intention to hurt or influence your sons,” he finally said. “They are young men in need of male guidance and they have none. It was presumptuous of me to try to fit that role.”

Nicola was feeling terribly guilty now. “You are our captor,” she said, bewilderment evident in her soft voice. “How can I allow an enemy to guide my sons?”

He looked at her, then. “Do you look at me as your enemy?”

Nicola nodded. Then, she shrugged. She didn’t seem to know how to respond. “That is what you are, isn’t it?”

Kenton wasn’t sure how to respond, either. God help him, he should have been decisive about it. He was indeed her captor. But he couldn’t seem to bring himself to take a firm stance on it. His confusion gave way to frustration.

“I am,” he said. “But it… Nicola, we have been through a great deal together, you and I. We have seen war and death and we have come out of it somehow oddly unified. When I look at you, I do not see an enemy. I see a beautiful, intelligent, and desirable woman and when I look at your sons, I see three young men desperately in need of someone to guide them. But mayhap there is more to it than that… my own son would have been Tab’s age had he lived and when I see Tab, I see what I would hope my own son would have been like – intelligent and brave and strong. It has drawn me to Tab, and to you, and for that, I am sorry. I have confessed my weakness. But it will not happen again.”

Ashamed by his confession, he started to turn away but Nicola reached out and grasped his arm before he could move away completely. She held him fast even though he could have very easily pulled away from her. He didn’t seem to want to. He kept his eyes on the ground, embarrassed to look at her, as Nicola moved close so only he could hear her.

“I did not know you were married,” she said, feeling great disappointment and even anger towards him and hoping that it didn’t show. What married man would kiss a woman the way he had kissed her? “You never made any indication that you had a wife. In fact….”

He cut her off, suspecting what she was about to say. “My wife died with my son,” he confessed. “I hope you do not think I would have kissed you as I have with a wife at home.”

Nicola was vastly relieved to hear that. “I do not know you very well,” she admitted. “I had hoped you would not make advances towards me if you were married.”

He shook his head, his jaw ticking. “Never,” he said with finality. “Some men with wives think nothing of bedding another woman but I am not that sort. My loyalty, once given, cannot be revoked.”

Nicola believed him without question. She was coming to see the character of the man, her captor, and he did not seem the disloyal type – not to his king and not to a wife. Therefore, she very much believed him.

“Then I am so very sorry for your loss,” she murmured in that sweet, honeyed voice that sent chills up his spine. “I did not know of your loss but I completely understand. I, too, lost a child last fall. I still weep for my baby, the little girl who never even drew a breath. So I understand your loss very well. As for Tab, he has been forced to grow up quickly. You already know he is very protective of me, protective enough that he killed his father because of it. I suppose I am very protective over him, sometimes to the extreme. He is such a gentle and thoughtful creature and I do not want to see him hurt.”

Kenton was looking at her by then, his gaze guarded. “He is a fine young man already,” he said hoarsely. “Again, if I overstepped myself, I am sorry.”

Nicola squeezed his arm. In fact, she moved closer to him and ended up holding his big hand. When she squeezed it, he squeezed back.

“If you tell me your intentions with him are honorable, then I shall believe you,” she whispered. “Forgive me for being cruel to you when you were only trying to be kind to my son.”

Kenton’s heart was beating so hard that he felt as if it were about to burst from his chest. His limbs ached and his breathing was painful and labored as Nicola stirred emotions within him that he’d never known before. She had him thinking on his dead son yet again with her confession of a dead daughter. Was it possible that she truly understood the loss of a child? He was letting himself feel things that he had forbidden himself to even entertain; Nicola was bringing them out in him. He was connecting to her as he’d never connected to anyone in his life. Reaching out his free hand, he cupped her sweet face in his enormous palm.

“I will always be kind to your son, Nicola,” he confirmed, “as I will always be kind to you. I hope you know that.”

Nicola laid her cheek against his gloved hand, feeling such sweetness and warmth from the man. He stirred emotions within her breast that she’d never experienced, emotions of thrill and adoration and desire. This man, her enemy, stirred up her very soul but as she gazed up into his face, her eyes twinkled with a delightful hint of mischief.

“You were not kind at first.”

“Neither were you.”

She laughed, as did he. “I suppose we were both to blame,” she said.

He dropped his hand from her face and shook his head. “I will shoulder no blame whatsoever,” he told her. “You were stubborn and belligerent. I was forced to react in kind.”

She frowned at him, although there was jest in her actions. “You subdued my home,” she pointed out. “How was I supposed to act?”

He shrugged, the blue eyes twinkling. “Just as you did, I suppose,” he said. “But you should know that I still live in fear of that stubborn, belligerent woman.”

He was teasing her and Nicola burst out laughing. “I do not believe that for one moment,” she declared, but was interrupted by Tab, over at the smithy stall, calling for her. She waved to her son and faced Kenton once more. “Will you please help him select a weapon? I would be most honored if you would help guide my son in these matters for I know nothing of them.”

Kenton’s lips twitched with a smile. Of course he could not refuse her. As he opened his mouth to respond, Wellesbourne abruptly appeared at his side.

“Trouble, Kenton,” he said, his young face grim. “There is an entire column of Edward’s supporters heading in from the south. We spotted them at the southern edge of the market. We must depart quickly to avoid being seen.”

Kenton’s head snapped around, looking to the southern portion of the market as he strained to see what Wellesbourne was talking about.

“Only fools would wear standards into a town and risk running into men who might be your enemy,” he grumbled. “Did you see colors?”

Wellesbourne was looking in the same direction that Kenton was. “Three stags against a field of blue,” he said seriously.

Kenton looked at him. “Derby,” he said with some disgust and confusion. “What on earth would the man be doing here this far north?”

Wellesbourne cocked an eyebrow. “He could be part of the contingent that left us yesterday,” he said. “I would wager to say that the army that kept us bottled up for the past week is still in this area. They will need to recover and restore their supplies much as we have had to do.”

Kenton knew that. He also knew that if those men realized another group of armed soldiers had purchased all of the supplies, there might be trouble. They would very well have to defend their food stores. He pointed in the direction of the wagon.

“Get the men moving, Matt,” he said. “We will catch up.”

Wellesbourne went on the run, back to the provisions wagon and the majority of the men-at-arms. They were still loading up the dried beans and peas and at Wellesbourne’s prompting, began loading at a furious pace. In fact, the wagon began moving even as they were still loading, but they managed to get everything onto the wagon with little spillage. As the wagon took off down the road, heading north towards the road that would take them back to Babylon, Kenton rushed to Tab’s side. When the boy realized that he was being taken away from the swords again, he balked.

“But can’t I have one?” he pleaded as Kenton grabbed him by the shoulder. “Can I have this one?”

He made a grab for the nearest sword and held it up, nearly poking Kenton in the face with it. Kenton, swayed by the look of desperation in the young man’s eyes, spoke quickly to the smithy.

“How much for this one?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to see if any of Derby’s men were in sight. “But be warned that I will only give you two silver marks and nothing more, so take it or leave it.”

The smithy extended his hand. “Sold, my lord,” he said. “It will make a fine weapon for the boy.”

Quickly, Kenton dug into his purse and pulled forth two silver marks, elaborately etched coins, and put them into the man’s hand. And with that, Tab had his very first weapon. The child was so gleeful that he was practically walking on air.

But there was no time to waste with celebration or joy. Kenton pulled Nicola and Tab along with him, rushing back to the spot where the wagon used to be. Two men-at-arms were waiting for them, holding the horses, and Kenton quickly seated Tab followed by Nicola, who was fairly deft and mounting her own horse. Kenton leapt onto his own steed, a charcoal-gray brute from Belgium, and the five of them took off at a fairly clipped pace through the town.

Outside of Manchester, they caught up with the provisions wagon and the rest of the men, making their way in haste back to the welcoming walls of Babylon.

One week later

She had hair as black as a raven’s wing, which was appropriate considering her name was Raven. Young, with a sweet and round body, and firm flesh, Wellesbourne knew he wasn’t the first man who had bedded her. In fact, she knew far too much about the pleasures of the flesh to be as virginal as she pretended.

Matthew had kept her in his bed all night, physically feasting on all she had to offer. She knew too much about how to make a man squirm; when he was embedded in her body, she would tighten her slick walls around him and fondle his testicles, which only made him mad with lust. Then she would push him over on his back and ride him as one would ride a wild animal and Matthew would spend his time with his hands on her breasts as she plunged her body down on him over and over again. Her climaxes were loud and often, which only fueled his passion. He liked to feel her releases around him. It made him feel virile and masculine.

He woke up on this bright but cold morning to Raven’s mouth on his manhood, her heated lips and wicked tongue working him up into a stiffness that would only be sated when he spilled himself into her mouth, but the odd thing was that it felt very much as if there were two mouths upon him and when he lifted the coverlet, he could see Raven and another woman, her pale sister he thought, working him into a frenzy.

Two women.
Wellesbourne rather liked that and he lay back and permitted the women to pleasure him until he could stand it no more. He grabbed Raven by the hair because she was the closest to him, pushed her over onto her belly and mounted her from behind as the other woman latched onto his mouth and kissed him furiously as he thrust into Raven. He fondled the pale woman’s breasts as he kissed her, repeatedly impaling Raven on his big, hard manhood, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

It had been a long time since he’d had double the pleasure like this, even if the pale girl wasn’t the beauty her sister was. Still, she had some skill. He managed to pull out of Raven’s tight body before releasing himself, sending ribbons of pearl-colored liquid onto Raven’s smooth back. Then, and only then, did the other woman stop kissing him as she climbed off the bed and used the end of the coverlet to wipe off Raven’s back. Then, she climbed back into bed with Raven and the two began giggling.

Exhausted from a night of sexual activity that had both drained and rejuvenated him, Matthew went to the basin in his chamber and splashed cold water on his face. He had duties to attend to even though he wanted to crawl back into bed with the two giggling women. Wellesbourne was the best of the best, a serious knight with great training and wisdom and skill, but he was also oversexed. It tended to be the butt of jokes from those who knew him well.

Matthew loved women, loved to bed them, and was sweet and kind to those he managed to deflower. But there was no sense of marriage or of having a lasting relationship in his mind or heart; he was too young for either. Therefore, he bedded every woman who caught his fancy and left a string of heartbroken hearts from Dover to Newcastle. Tales of Matthew Wellesbourne’s sexual exploits were almost as legendary as his knightly reputation.

A knock on the door distracted him from flirting with the two women in his bed. Rolling his eyes with frustration at the interruption, he went to the door, completely nude, and put his hand on the latch.

“Who goes there?” he demanded.

A deeply frightening voice answered. “If you do not open the door, you will find out in the most painful way possible.”

With a grin, Matthew opened the door to find Gaston de Russe standing there. Impossibly enormous, powerful, dark, and frightening, Gaston de Russe was as ominous and terrifying as Matthew was congenial and benevolent. The two were also the best of friends as well as cousins. Gaston shoved the door open and stepped into the room, immediately spying the women in Matthew’s bed. He sighed heavily.

“Why am I not surprised?” he grumbled, pointing to the women and then flicking his hand in the direction of the door. “Out, both of you. I will not tell you again.”

Orders from the knight they called The Dark One were not meant to be questioned or disobeyed. The women began to scurry, picking up their clothes from the floor, trying to dress and protect their modesty from the big, dark knight, which was a ridiculous thing to do. It wasn’t as if he gave any care to either one of them. He did, however, turn his back on them to face Matthew as the women frantically dressed.

“Did you get any sleep?” he asked Matthew wryly.

Matthew was still grinning at his big cousin. “Of course I did,” he said, turning away and going in search of his breeches. “At least, I think I did. A little, I suppose. Come to think of it, I do not know.”

Gaston shook his head at the man, resigned to Matthew’s behavior. “Your father said he was going to marry you off soon,” he said. “Maybe that will curtail these primal urges you seem to have.”

Matthew found his leather bottoms and pulled them on. “Not any time soon,” he sniffed. “My father has been threatening to betroth me for a few years now but he has yet to do it.”

“Doesn’t he have someone in mind?”

Matthew shrugged. “He says he does,” he replied. “The niece of an ally, I think. Howard Terrington. Do you remember him?”

Gaston nodded his head. “I do indeed,” he said. “I do not like him. He is shifty and I do not trust him. His niece, you say?”

Matthew made a face. “She is only five years of age,” he said, unhappy. “I am sure I can talk my father out of it.”

Gaston cracked a smile. “Why?” he asked. “You will have to marry, eventually. If your wife is five years of age then you will not have to marry her for quite some time, at least another ten years of so.”

Matthew simply shook his head as he secured the ties on his breeches. He glanced up as Raven and the other woman ran past him, fully clothed, and disappeared into the darkened corridors beyond. He sighed.

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” he asked Gaston, irritated. “You want to know when I am getting married?”

Gaston grunted and shook his head, moving over to the bed and sniffing the air. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “It smells as if animals have been mating in here.”

Matthew crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest. “Did you also come to criticize me?”

Gaston fought off a grin as he moved to the lancet window that overlooked the eastern portion of Babylon’s walls. “Nay,” he said, pleased that he had managed to annoy his usually easy-going cousin. “I came to talk to you about le Bec. Has he said anything more to you about the move on Manchester?”

Matthew shook his head. “Not since Warwick departed last week,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

Gaston was looking out over the countryside. The snows had melted surprisingly fast because the past week had been clear weather with bright sun. Now, all he could see were fields of dead grass beneath the sunshine. Below him in the inner ward, the castle was going about its business and the sections of wall that had been damaged by two successive sieges were being repaired from a quarry nearby. Aye, everything was back to normal. But it shouldn’t have been. He turned to Matthew.

“Warwick gave Kenton specific instructions to plan for the subjugation of Rochdale and Manchester,” he said. “Kenton should have at least have come up with a plan during this past week but I have heard nothing. I thought he might have said something to you.”

Matthew uncrossed his arms and looked away, heading to the chair where his heavy woolen tunic was slung over the back. He collected his tunic and pulled it over his curly blond hair.

“He has not said anything to me about it,” he replied, somewhat subdued. “Have you asked de Birmingham or Forbes or le Mon?”

Gaston nodded. “They are as much in the dark as we are.”

Matthew pondered that a moment. “Kenton has been too busy with Lady Thorne and her children to worry about a siege on Manchester.”

Gaston nodded. “I know,” he agreed. “I have seen it, too. So have his men. I suppose that was the point I was driving at. Le Bec is very distracted and if word gets back to Warwick, he will not be pleased.”

Matthew knew that. “We have fought with Kenton le Bec since we were both knighted,” he said. “He is the consummate knight, professional and perfect. He was at Towton, for Christ’s Sake, and survived it, so that is some indication to the man’s skill. But I also heard he lost a wife and child a few years ago. It is not wrong for a man to want to fill that void, Gaston.”

Gaston glanced at him. “Nay, it is not wrong,” he said, “but Warwick will not see it that way. Do not take my statements as condemnation against le Bec; I respect and admire him a great deal. But if Warwick finds out he has been distracted by Lady Thorne, it is quite possible that Warwick will send the lady away. You know this as well as I do. If he is forced to do that, it will not go well for le Bec.”

Matthew sat down on the chair to pull his boots on. “Then mayhap we should bring that up to the man.”

Gaston shrugged. “And if he does not respond? Do we send word to Warwick that le Bec is otherwise occupied and Manchester will have to wait?”

Matthew shook his head. “We do
not
,” he said. “Gaston, I have no great love for Warwick. You know that. My loyalty would much rather be with le Bec for I know he is a true and loyal knight. I feel in this case that we must speak with le Bec and voice our concerns, for his sake. If le Bec does not move on Manchester, Warwick will come down on him. Even if he knows that, he must be reminded. Mayhap that is all he needs – a reminder that we are expecting something great from him. And so is Warwick.”

Gaston nodded with some resignation. “I never thought I would see the day where Kenton le Bec would stray from his orders.”

Matthew finished with his boots and stood up. “He has not strayed,” he replied steadily. “He is simply off course a bit. A beautiful woman will do that to a man.”

“Not me.”

“You are not a man.”

Matthew barely dodged the giant fist that came flying out at him. With a grin, he led the way from his chamber as the pair went in search of Kenton le Bec. The man had to be set on course again or bad tidings in the form of Warwick’s wrath could befall him. Matthew and Gaston would try to prevent it if they could.

As the knights passed down the stairs that would take them to the entry level one floor below, they failed to see two little forms tucked back in the alcove that was just outside of Matthew’s door.

Raven and Liesl were hovering there, having heard everything Matthew and Gaston had spoken of. They were young, and naturally curious, and the conversation about le Bec and Lady Thorne did not surprise either of them. Spending as much time as they did around Lady Thorne, they knew she spent a great deal of time with le Bec. And they knew she seemed to like it.

But hearing the knights speak of the attention between Kenton and Nicola, they wondered if they shouldn’t say something to Lady Thorne about it. Perhaps she would want to know that Kenton’s knights were suspicious of their lord’s behavior and that it could cause problems with Warwick. They brought the information to the attention of Janet, who told them to keep their silly mouths closed. It was none of their business, anyway, and if rumors got started, Janet swore she would take a switch to them both.

Therefore, the girls kept their mouths closed, at least to rumors, but when it came to Matthew Wellesbourne, their mouths were anything but closed.

He rather liked it that way.