De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (19 page)

He had managed to push her a little too far with his gentle words. Her anger surfaced and she tried to move away from him further but ended up stumbling over a bushel of grain. When he reached out to prevent her from falling, she lashed out at him savagely and smacked his head away.

“Do not touch me,” she hissed. “Leave me alone!”

Kenton stood there, looking at her with an expression of naked confusion and desperation. “What have I done?” he pleaded. “Won’t you tell me?”

Nicola shook her head furiously and before she could stop them, the tears started to come. Embarrassed, and feeling pain she’d struggled to push aside, she tried to turn away from him.

“Please go,” she whispered. “Go away and do what you must do in order to carry out your orders. Just… leave me alone.”

Kenton could see the tears and each droplet was like an arrow to his heart. Pricks of agony that he couldn’t help and he couldn’t stop. But he didn’t move. “What did I do to upset you so?” he asked again. “Nicola, won’t you tell me?”

She sniffled, trying to discreetly wipe away tears. “There is nothing to tell, Sir Kenton,” she said. “I asked you to go. I would be grateful if you would oblige me.”

Kenton knew one thing: he wasn’t leaving, not until he knew what he had done to upset her so. He’d never felt such desperation or angst in his entire life. He’d never felt such emotion over a woman and therefore truly had no idea how to gracefully handle what he was feeling. As she stood there and quietly wept, Kenton sat heavily on a barrel behind him. He wasn’t leaving until he knew.

“I am not a man given to emotion, Nicola,” he said softly. “I have seen much war and death in my lifetime, of those close to me, enough so that I have learned to dull my feelings when it comes to another human being. I thought I was doing quite well until I met you but now I see that I am a weak fool when it comes to you. Right now, I cannot breathe for all of the pain I am feeling, knowing that I have somehow hurt or offended you. Clearly, I have done something and you will not tell me what it is. I am not leaving until you do.”

Rather than ease or comfort her, his words inflamed her and she whirled on him, infuriated. “You will cease with your sweet words,” she hissed. “All that comes out of your mouth are lies and coercion. You have been doing it since you came to Babylon and I will no longer listen to you, so cease with your attempts to be kind. I am immune to them.”

His brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Lies and coercion?” he repeated, rather taken aback at such strong words. “How could you think….?”

She cut him off, rudely. “Stop it!” she shouted, putting her hands over her ears. “You only lie to gain your wants but I am not listening to you any longer! I know the truth, Kenton le Bec, so you can stop pretending to be kind and attentive. Your actions are filled with lies just like the rest of you. If you want to know what I know about Edward’s movements or my husband’s allies, then I wish you would simply ask me. You did not have to pretend to be kind to me in order to gain your wants.”

Kenton was stunned. “Is that what you think?” he asked, aghast. “That I have been pretending to be kind to you in order to extract information?”

Nicola burst into painful sobs. She was trying to keep her hands over her ears but she couldn’t do that and point for the ladder that led from the vault, so she was forced to drop a hand and gesture most strongly towards the exit.

“Get
out
,” she screamed at him. “Get out and leave me alone. I do not want to see you again, ever!”

Kenton was pale with sorrow and anguish. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Who told you this about me?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “Who told you such lies that you would believe them?”

Nicola was beyond rational thought at that moment; all of the pain she had been feeling at the realization that Kenton had only been using her was flooding out all over the place, through her veins, bleeding out of her pores, and filling the very air around them with anguish. She started screaming at him.

“
Get out, get out
!” she roared. “God damn you to hell for what you’ve done to me, le Bec! God damn you for making me feel… for making me hope… get out of here before I kill you!”

She was far gone with rage and hysteria. Kenton sat there, watching her, realizing that he was close to tears himself. In those few stammered words, he could see that she had felt something for him as well. She felt something for him now. It was the only way to explain the utter agony she was exhibiting. She was feeling something for him just as he was feeling for her but somehow, someway, someone had poisoned her against him. Someone had lied to her. Someone had convinced her that his intentions were not honorable and she had believed them. He could see, simply by her reaction, that she was as heartbroken as he was.

He’d never felt so much pain in his life.

Quietly, he stood up and made his way over to the ladder, hearing Nicola’s sobs all around him, echoing off of the cold walls of the vault. They were like blows to his body, causing him physical anguish. There was a lump in his throat as he put a hand on the ladder.

“I am leaving,” he said, his voice tight, “but you will listen to me before I do. I do not know who has told you that my intentions towards you were dishonorable, but nothing could be further from the truth. I love you, Nicola Aubrey-Thorne, and when I return from Manchester, we will have this discussion again. If it takes the rest of my life to convince you that my feelings for you are true, then so be it. I am willing to give the rest of my life to you, and only you, because I have never loved anyone before. You are my first and, God willing, you will be my last. This is not over.”

Nicola couldn’t help but hear his words. They carved through her like knives, causing her entire body to weaken.
I love you
. No one, save her children, had ever told her that. Hearing those words from Kenton’s lips was the most glorious and most tragic thing she could have ever experienced. She wanted to believe him, to tell him that she loved him also, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was lying…
wasn’t he?

Distraught, Nicola collapsed on the floor of the storage vault in a fit of deep sobs as Kenton mounted the stairs and left, just as she’d asked him to.

She never saw the tears on his face that he quickly wiped away before anyone else could see them.

Kenton’s army left before dawn the next day when the weather had surprisingly cleared up. As the eastern sky turned shades of pink and purple, and dark clouds slashed across the heavens as a reminder of the terrible winter weather they’d so recently suffered, Kenton departed the great gates of Babylon with around twelve hundred men, leaving the remaining two hundred at Babylon to watch over the castle until he returned.

He took all of his knights with him except Conor, whom he left in charge of Babylon in his absence. Kenton didn’t expect any trouble in the foreseeable future, as his spies had returned saying that the army that had attacked them the previous week had sought refuge at Conisbrough, and it was likely that an army that had suffered such a defeat wouldn’t be ready to regroup any time soon. He gave them a month or two before they came out at him again, which was plenty of time to gain control of Manchester and then retreat back to Babylon. That was what he was counting on.

But even as he left Babylon, his heart was heavy after his encounter with Nicola the evening before. He’d tried to shake the sense of sorrow he felt, the sense of hurt, but he hadn’t been able to do it. He was nearly desperate to know who had poisoned her against him but he would feel like a fool for asking any of his knights, so he didn’t. He bottled everything up inside him. Consequently, his mood was darker than usual and the men sensed it. The preparations for the departure had run smoothly because his men, including the knights, were fearful of upsetting him.

Wellesbourne and de Russe had accomplished most of the preparation with the men whilst Gerik and Ackerley had been focused on the provisions, animals, and equipment. They were going to subdue a large city – and Rochdale was without perimeter walls- therefore, most of their weaponry was meant for hand-to-hand combat situations. Spears and shields were the main things they made sure the men were carrying with additional weaponry stationed in two big wagons they were bringing. The preparations ran all evening and most of the night.

While Kenton focused on his army, he assigned Conor to deal with Lady Thorne and the castle in general. The army needed to take supplies with them, as foraging in the dead of winter was difficult, so Conor and Gerik spent the most time with Nicola taking from her what she could spare the army. Kenton wasn’t anywhere to be seen during this time, which seemed odd to both Conor and Gerik. Where Lady Thorne was, Kenton usually was, so it was then that they began to suspect a rift had arisen between the pair.

But they kept their thoughts to themselves because whatever was occurring between Kenton and Lady Thorne didn’t matter in the great scheme of things. Nicola was polite and helpful with them but she wasn’t particularly friendly and when they were finished stocking the army, she quickly vanished. Even as they left the gates of Babylon before dawn, she was nowhere to be seen. The lady had retreated to her apartments and there she apparently would stay.

Without the Lady of Babylon to see them off, Kenton and his army headed out into the dawn of a new day in the direction of Rochdale, which was about an hour’s ride from Babylon. Since they were already close to their target, Kenton sent his scouts out almost immediately, along with Wellesbourne and de Russe, who rode ahead to get the lay of the land and decide what the best course of action would be. Battle was on the horizon and intelligence had to be gathered.

For Rochdale, a rather bustling burg to the northeast of Manchester, the course of action had been relatively easy. When de Russe and Wellesbourne rode into town to confront the lord mayor, who was also the town’s surgeon and beer maker, and told the man to surrender his village or suffer the consequences to Warwick’s forces, the beer-making surgeon-mayor had immediately folded. It would seem he was not willing to put up any manner of resistance and by noon that day, Rochdale was secured in the name of Henry.

Leaving about two hundred men in Rochdale to keep close tabs on the operations of the city including who came in or out, Kenton and his men camped on the north end of town that night as they planned to march on Manchester the following morning. Already, Kenton sent out scouts towards Manchester, including Wellesbourne and de Russe again, but Manchester turned out to be not so entirely welcoming to Henry’s troops.

In fact, there were some of Edward’s troops staying in the town, as Kenton had seen on the day they had done their shopping there, and those men were most resistant to le Bec’s army or the suggestion that the town and its occupants were not loyal to Henry. It was an unfortunate stance, considering they were undermanned, and Wellesbourne and de Russe killed those who refused to surrender. But it was only a hint of what was to come.

On dawn of the following day, Manchester became a battleground.

Conor sat in Gaylord Thorne’s solar, reading a missive he’d just received from Kenton. Six days after leaving Babylon, Kenton and his army were in heavy fighting in Manchester; the city had not surrendered as easily as Rochdale had, and there was a definite Edwardian influence, so the pocket of fighting had been vicious indeed. Frustrated that he was not part of the fighting, Conor let the missive fall onto the table that had once been cluttered with cups and books and maps belonging to Gaylord.

Kenton hadn’t paid any attention to the clutter but Conor, with time on his hands and boredom threatening, had organized the messy table. Now, everything was neat and orderly because that was the way he liked it. Even when the missive fell back to the tabletop, he simply couldn’t leave it laying there so he put it neatly off to one side.

Sighing heavily, he struggled not to let his frustration show. Kenton was facing strong resistance at Manchester yet he was here, growing fat and lazy with his inactivity. He thought seriously on sending Kenton a missive and asking if he could trade places with Gerik or Ackerley, but he knew that Kenton would deny him. Neither Gerik nor Ackerley had the acumen to completely run a castle, but Conor was fairly certain his presence here was more than simply a nod to his command ability. He was fairly certain it was to keep him and de Russe separated.

With a grunt of displeasure, he sank back in the cushioned chair and put his muddy boots upon the tabletop, thinking heavily on Manchester and battles and Gaston de Russe. Since their harsh words those days ago, they had both managed to steer clear of one another or, at times when they could not avoid it, they had simply ignored each other. Conor thought he had been quite professional about his behavior towards de Russe and was therefore insulted that Kenton had chosen to take de Russe with him into battle and leave Conor behind. Conor was, in fact, grossly offended.

As he sat there and stewed about being left out of a battle, he caught sight of someone entering the solar. The boots came down off the table as one of his soldiers entered the chamber, edging close to the blazing hearth because it was quite warm in the room. The soldier had just come from the walls of Babylon where it was breezy and quite cold.

“My lord,” the soldier said. “Two scouts have returned from their usual patrol to inform us that a large army is moving up from the south.”

Conor stood up, concern on his pale features. “An army?” he repeated, confused. “Where on earth did they see this army?”

The soldier edged even closer to the warm blaze. “About three hours ago,” he replied. “The scouts were on the edge of Huddersfield when they saw the army approaching from the south. They watched the army for as long as they could and they think that the army is traveling the road to the south of us, the road the parallels the road that runs from Huddersfield to Babylon and on into Rochdale. It seemed to the scouts that the army took a turn onto that road. They are now heading east, towards Manchester.”

Manchester, where Kenton is
. Conor didn’t like that thought at all; he was thinking on the roads to the south of Babylon and of all of the big armies that were also to the south of them.
Conisbrough
, he thought ominously. Was it even possible? Of course it was. There could be no one else, at least no one that was any closer than the massive garrison of Conisbrough. Kenton suspected Conisbrough would move on Babylon at some point only he didn’t think it would be so soon. He thought he had weeks, mayhap even months before that happened. Evidently, that was not to be the case. The more Conor thought on it, the more concerned he became.

“There are two roads south of us,” he finally said. “One that is not very far at all; we can see it from the battlements. And there is a second road that is over the range of hills further to the south. Which road do they mean?”

The soldier wasn’t entirely sure. “I believe the road that is over the hills,” he said. “Shall you speak with the scouts, my lord? They are in the gatehouse.”

Conor nodded firmly. “I will, indeed.”

Conor charged from the solar followed by the soldier. He was in the entry, heading for the door to the keep, when he caught sight of Nicola as she emerged from the hall with her boys in tow. Tab was begging his mother for something while Teague seemed to be deliberately tripping Tiernan, who fell onto one knee with his brother’s bullying and came up swinging. Nicola came to a stop and put out a hand, stilling the brotherly fight. Conor called out to her politely.

“My lady,” he said. “If you require service of me, I will be upon the battlements.”

Nicola had her hand on Teague’s balled fists. “Very well,” she said politely.

“I would assume the evening meal will be at its usual time?”

Nicola nodded. “It will.”

With a forced smile, Conor quit the keep, heading towards the gatehouse beneath the cold and dark sky.

Nicola watched the man go, her thoughts lingering on him as she turned for the stairs that led to the upper levels. Conor had kept a polite distance from her and she from him, but even so, the distance wasn’t enough. Every time she saw him she was reminded of Kenton, which wasn’t particularly a surprise considering the man occupied nearly every waking thought.

Nicola thought that his departure would help her forget about him, to help her to hate him and all he represented, when, in fact, it did just the opposite. Time had tried to heal that ache. She wanted to go to him and tell him why she was so angry with him, so hurt, and hope that he had an explanation about his words that she could believe. She’d never even given him the chance to explain, but at the time, there had been no reason to. She had heard him speaking, unguarded, to his men. That was explanation enough.

… wasn’t it?

Torn with grief and confusion and longing for a man who had only been using her, Nicola tried to shake off thoughts of Kenton le Bec as she directed the boys to the stairs. She trailed along behind them, stopping Teague from clobbering his brother again, as they made their way to the upper floor. They were nearly to the top of the flight of stairs when a soft call came from below.

“My lady?”

Nicola paused, looking down to see Janet standing in the darkened entry below. “What is it?” she asked.

Janet looked around nervously before silently motioning for Nicola to come to her. Nicola looked at her curiously and Janet did it again, this time pointing frantically in the direction of the kitchen. Curious, not to mention oddly concerned, Nicola instructed Tab to take his brothers up to their chambers. As Tab began dragging them up the remainder of the steps, Nicola went to Janet.

“What is the matter?” Nicola asked as she came off the stairs. “Why are you…?”

Janet shushed her softly. “Not here, my lady,” she whispered. “Hurry, you must come with me.”

She dashed off and Nicola quickly followed. Janet wasn’t usually the jumpy type so the maid’s manner had Nicola naturally intrigued. She soon found out why.

Seated just inside the kitchen door near the hearth, with a steaming cup of wine in his hand, sat the stable boy Nicola had sent to Conisbrough over a week ago. Hermenia was hovering over the lad, spooning great globs of hot stew into his frozen mouth, as Janet and Nicola entered the low-ceilinged kitchen. It was quite warm, and quite smoky, as Nicola quickly went to the shivering lad.

“Hux?” she gasped, reaching out to touch the boy and realizing that he was literally frozen solid; his clothes were hard with ice. “God’s Bones, Hermenia. We must remove his clothing. It is like a block of ice!”

Hermenia set the bowl of stew down. “I know it, m’lady,” she fretted. “But he couldn’t move his face. I thought to warm it at the very first.”

Nicola, Janet, and Hermenia began yanking pieces of clothing off the boy – the inadequate gloves, his shoes, a stiff wool coat, and a wrap around his head. It all came off, all frozen and wet, and Janet laid it on the hot floor in front of the hearth. Nicola shoved the lad upon his stool closer to the blaze and he, as well as his clothing, steamed as the warmth began to saturate through the wet and ice.