De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (20 page)

“Hux?” Nicola asked again, helping the lad drink the hot wine because he was having difficulty holding on to the cup. “What happened? How did you get back into the compound? Did the soldiers see you?”

The young man who had seen sixteen hard years shook his head. “They did not see me, m’lady,” he assured her, teeth chattering. “I came up by way of the river and into the postern gate. Hermenia saw me first, through the gate, and chased the soldiers away so she could open it.”

Nicola was glad the boy hadn’t been caught entering by Kenton’s eagle-eyed soldiers. “De Birmingham has men all over the walls,” she muttered, thinking on the soldiers she had seen from her chamber window. “It is truly a miracle that you were not seen by them when you left the first time and now when you have returned. God must be on our side.”

As the serving women nodded, Hux’s pinched face grew very serious. “Where is le Bec, my lady?”

Nicola held the boys trembling hands, keeping them wrapped around the warm cup. “He left more than a week ago,” she said. “He left for Rochdale and Manchester. I do not know what has happened, exactly, because I’ve not asked, but I heard that he took Rochdale with ease. He must be at Manchester by now.”

“Then he is not here, my lady?”

“Nay.”

The young man coughed and choked down another swallow of warm wine. “How many men and knights are here?”

Nicola was somewhat puzzled by the question. “Only one knight was left behind,” she said. “Conor de Birmingham. There are mayhap two hundred men. Not very many at all. Le Bec took almost all of his men with him.”

“And how many men do we have that are loyal to you and to Lord Gaylord?”

Nicola was increasingly puzzled by the questions. “As many as were here when le Bec took over the castle,” she said. “Two of my husband’s knights, the old pair, and thirty-seven men. That is all we had. Hux, why do you ask so many questions? What has happened?”

The young man took another long drink of wine, slurping it now that he was getting some feeling back into his lips. “Brome St. John of Conisbrough Castle sent me back to you with a message,” he said. “He says to tell you that he is taking men to engage Kenton le Bec but that he needs your help to regain Babylon for Edward. There are men from Conisbrough waiting in the woods to the south and they want to enter the castle. They want to take it back.”

Nicola looked at him, both surprised and fearful by the information. “What do they want me to do?”

“Let them in, my lady.”

Nicola rocked back on her heels, absorbing the request. She was being asked to open the gates to Conisbrough’s garrison, to admit men that were loyal to Edward. They wanted to take the castle back, to restore it to its rightful self. Wasn’t that what she wanted, too? To restore Babylon to Tab, as the rightful lord of Babylon? Kenton le Bec was a usurper, a common thief for stealing what did not belong to him. Now that he was away, it was a perfect time to gain it back. He would return to Babylon and find that it no longer belonged to him. She couldn’t imagine that he would let it go so easily, but with seasoned soldiers inside her walls to stave him off, surely the walls would hold this time. Surely he would be the one leaving in defeat. That was what she wanted.

… wasn’t it?

Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn’t. Nicola couldn’t seem to summon her courage at the moment. She had sent word to Conisbrough to betray Kenton but somewhere over the past few days, she had wavered on that stance. That was never more obvious than at this moment. But she couldn’t waver. Kenton wanted nothing more than to betray her. She had heard it from his own lips. But those same lips had told her that he loved her.

God, she was so confused!

“I cannot let them in through the gatehouse,” she said. “The postern gate would be the only way and it will only allow one man in at a time. If someone were to see them….”

She trailed off, shaking her head, gazing back at the young man with some trepidation. But the young man seemed to have the courage and conviction she lacked.

“It can be done, m’lady,” he assured her. “I must go back to them and show them the way. They can come in through the kitchen yard and into the keep through the kitchens. Those at the gatehouse cannot see the kitchens from where they are. It will be too late when they realize we will regain the castle.”

The wheels were in motion and Nicola could not stop them. Men were here, ready to help her take back her castle, and she could not hesitate. She had to think on her sons and their future; they would not have a future if le Bec were to regain Babylon. Their legacy and wealth would belong to Kenton.
Think of your children!
She told herself.
Stop thinking with your heart and think with your head, you fool!

“Very well,” she finally said, but it was difficult to spit the words out. “Go back to Conisbrough’s men and lead them to the postern gate. We shall try to get them into the kitchens unseen. How many men are there?”

“About forty, my lady,” the young man replied. “Enough to make it to the gatehouse and open it.”

“But there are at least two hundred men here.”

“They will not be an issue if they are distracted.”

Nicola’s eyebrows lifted. “Are the Conisbrough men setting up a distraction for those on watch?”

The young man nodded. “I believe they are, but I do not know what it is, my lady,” he said. Then, he set the cup aside and grabbed at his shoes and coat. “I must return. I must tell them our plans.”

Nicola helped the young man dress in his wet, warm clothing, her manner now somewhat hesitant. Plans were in motion and she felt as if she were being swept along with evil by her own design. Of course, it was by her own design. She had sent word to Conisbrough and they had responded. Soon, Kenton le Bec and his men would be a memory at Babylon and nothing more. Soon, the nightmare would be over and her recollection of Kenton le Bec would be those of a man who had helped her to feel more, to understand more about herself, than anyone had ever done for her. If nothing else, she was grateful for what he had done for her. Betrayal or no, enemy or no, he had done this for her.

Think nothing else of the man
, she told herself.
You are not allowed to think anything else of the man!

Her heart, a fragile and protected thing, wasn’t listening.

This night, to her, would forever be the night that she betrayed the man she loved.

A week after beginning the siege of Manchester, Kenton and his army was beginning to make ground.

Their attack had come from the northeast and was designed to allow the town’s inhabitants to escape the carnage before the real show of force began. Kenton and his men gave the town exactly one day before they began to launch their attack in earnest, and on the dawn of the second day, they plowed into Manchester and began to sweep the city, subduing those who didn't flee and flushing out soldiers and other armed men who didn’t belong there.

The Earl of Derby, who had been encamped to the south of the city, put up a serious fight on the third day when Kenton and his men were midway into the city. There was terrible fighting in the streets, alleyways, and even in houses. De Russe and Wellesbourne, always the advance team, got into a serious battle alongside the two hundred men they were commanding with a contingent of Derby’s men just past Market Street, to the southwest on King Street. Derby had set up an ambush that ended up killing about ten of de Russe and Wellesbourne’s soldiers, which spurred the knights into a bloody frenzy. No man was safe at that point, and de Russe in particular drew upon his bloody reputation and single-handedly put down eleven of Derby’s men that he caught in a bathhouse. The bathhouse became a blood house.

The bloodshed continued to roll into a fourth and a fifth day after that. Fighting upon a field of battle versus fighting in close-quarters combat in a city was much different, and more exhausting, Kenton believed. As he had Gerik hold the northeast section of the city, he moved parallel to de Russe and Wellesbourne. While those two moved to subdue the southern part of the city, Kenton and Ackerley moved into the western section of the city and even secured the two main bridges over the River Irwell.

With the bridges secured, Kenton personally moved into the small portion of the city that was to the north of the river and struggled for two days to secure it. There were many people willing to fight back in this portion of the city and Kenton met with serious resistance. It was a brutal onslaught of attacks and counterattacks.

The sixth day of fighting saw most of the city under Kenton’s control although there were pockets of fighting that seemed to move around throughout the city, making them difficult to quell. The biggest blow came when Ackerley took an arrow to the neck, a mortal blow that saw the man bleed to death as Kenton and a few other soldiers struggled to save him.

There was nothing anyone could do even though they tried, going through the motions of trying to save a man who was beyond help. Kenton, his hands covered in Ackerley’s blood, held the man’s hand as he had drown in his own blood, speaking quietly to him and assuring him that his wound wasn’t mortal. He assured the man that he would be saved and that they would enjoy some time in London when the battle was over. Ackerley had died with a smile on his lips, thinking of alcohol and round women and the pleasures of London.

It had been a difficult death for Kenton to accept. Now, the trio of Trouble, More Trouble, and Lucifer’s Brother was without Lucifer’s Brother – the three friends of Conor, Gerik, and Ackerley were no more. Gerik had been informed of his friend’s passing when the man’s body had been sent back to Kenton’s encampment on the north side of town. The wagon bearing Ackerley’s body had passed by Gerik as the man held his post, and he had stopped the wagon a moment, touching his friend’s still face one last time before waving the wagon onward. After that, it was back to his duty bearing a broken heart. But war was war and he accepted that men died; it was just difficult to accept that one of those men had been Ackerley Forbes.

Ackerley’s death greatly affected Kenton and Gerik even though they tried to pretend otherwise, but those who had fought alongside them for any length of time could tell. Even Wellesbourne and de Russe could tell. More than that, they understood and they stepped up their service. Wellesbourne took Ackerley’s place next to Kenton, carrying out even the smallest order that Kenton may have had, while de Russe remained in control of the southern portion of the town.

Day seven dawned to see Kenton nearly in complete control of Manchester thanks to his skill as a commander and also thanks to his knights, who had worked very hard to ensure victory. The death of Ackerley seemed to spur something in them, something deep, and even though his men as a whole were exhausted and physically beaten, their spirits were good and the casualty rate had been surprisingly low. Of the nearly one thousand men he’d brought with him, having left two hundred in Rochdale, he’d only lost sixty, which he considered rather low for such a bloody battle. Finally, by the end of the seventh day, Kenton was confident that he could declare victory.

But there were details in that victory, both good and bad - Derby’s men had been chased off and their encampment to the south end of town raided and burned, and Kenton now found himself with several very fine horses, tents, clothing, rugs, and even coinage from Derby’s camp. He was quite pleased with the booty and allowed his men to divide most of the treasure trove among them, although Kenton kept the horses and the coinage. As evening finally fell on the seventh day and the fighting, for the most part, had ended, Kenton set up a perimeter around the majority of the town and declared Martial Law. People began coming back into the town, into their homes, to see what was salvageable. Kenton had not permitted his men to raid homes so what possessions that hadn’t been inadvertently destroyed were still there, and the citizens were grateful for small mercies.

A peaceful night followed, a night that saw Kenton sleep heavily for a few hours with dreams of Nicola on his mind, until he was awoken before dawn by a panicked soldier. It would seem that a large army was already on the southern side of town and had managed to break through their perimeter. Kenton’s soldiers were dying, now fighting for their lives against a fresh army, and de Russe and Wellesbourne were already riding to the south side of town to assess the situation.

Assessment or not, Kenton knew that the introduction of a fresh army against his exhausted one was a very bad thing indeed. He was dressed in a flash, with mail and plate armor, and he and Gerik began organizing their men to resist whatever army was now invading Manchester. Exhausted men, and wounded men, began forming lines against what was coming. There was a palpable sense of doom in the air, of coming death, but Kenton’s men were ready for it. With le Bec leading the charge, their courage was limitless in the face of adversity.