De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (23 page)

“M’lady!” she gasped. “Ye survived the onslaught!”

Nicola nodded as the old woman reached out to grasp her hand, kissing it, and Tab went to the pot to see if there was anything interesting cooking inside. He stuck his finger into the bubbling gruel, hissing when he burned it. He sucked the gruel off his burned finger as Nicola pulled him away from the scalding pot.

“We were safe in our chambers all night,” she told the cook. “And you? Where did you spend the night?”

The old woman pointed to the kitchen. “In there,” she said. “I bolted all of the doors so no one could get in, but they found me this morning and told me to feed the men. I asked what men and they said I was to feed the army. My lady, these men are sworn to Edward. There is a new army here after last night.”

Nicola looked around the yard, noting that it seemed untouched and unchanged from the last time she saw it. No looting, no destruction. The sheep that she and Kenton had purchased were still over in their corral, munching on their feed, and right next to the corral was the postern gate. She stared at the gate a moment, remembering her role in the recapture of Babylon. It had been pivotal, for without her, none of this would have happened. Depressed, she forced herself to turn away.

“I know,” she muttered. “I must find the commander and discover what is to become of Babylon. We are back in Edward’s hands now and I must know what their plans are.”

Hermenia nodded, pointing to the gate that led from the kitchen yard out into the inner ward. “A knight was just here,” she said. “He was the one who told me to feed the men. He can’t have gone far.”

She was urging Nicola towards the kitchen yard gate and Nicola took the suggestion. She hurried to the gate with Tab on her heels, both of them peering outside into the inner ward to see what it looked like beyond. It was muddy and they could see signs of damage. Here and there were men sitting against the inner wall either injured or simply resting, but she couldn’t see much more than that.

Timidly, she opened the gate, yanking on it when the hinges stuck. The rusted iron hinges often gave her trouble and when the mud would shift after heavy rain, the gate would sometimes be wedged closed. Fortunately, she was able to squeeze through it, out into the inner ward, as Tab followed close behind.

Nicola was several steps into the inner ward when she realized that Babylon appeared much worse off at eye level than it did from her perch above. The walls weren’t damaged but there were injured men everywhere and the gatehouse was in shambles. She gasped when she saw the great portcullis off-track, hanging at an angle, and there were men she did not recognize trying to fix it. The big gates themselves were wide open and one of them seemed to be unhinged. Men were milling about and there was a group of soldiers, Kenton’s soldiers, who were being corralled.

Shocked at the sight of the devastation, Nicola called to the first soldier she came across.

“Where is your commander?” she demanded. “I am Lady Thorne and this is my home. Take me to your commander immediately.”

The soldier, who had been assigned to collect fallen weapons, eyed Nicola strangely for a moment. She thought he might actually deny her simply by the expression on his face, but after a moment he leaned the used arrows he had been collecting against the wall of the keep and pointed towards the gatehouse.

“He is over there, my lady,” he said.

“Take me to him.”

The soldier turned for the gatehouse without another word. Nicola, grasping Tab’s hand tightly, followed through the muck and mud. She passed by men who were badly wounded and being tended to by other soldiers, but she tried not to look at them. She tried not to look at any of them because every man reminded her of Kenton. Most of the wounded she saw were, in fact, Kenton’s men, and she knew that if they saw her, they more than likely recognized her. Perhaps they even blamed her for what happened. Or perhaps they were hoping she would save them. In any case, she simply couldn’t look at them. She was afraid that if she did, she would weep.

Weep with guilt.

The gatehouse seemed to be the busiest area in the inner ward and the soldier led her through the crowd of men trying to repair the unhinged gate, straight to a big man in armor and shoulder-length blond hair. The soldier muttered something to the armored man, who then looked at Nicola with both surprise and interest. He pushed the soldier aside as he went to her.

“Lady Thorne?” he asked politely.

Nicola eyed the large knight, who was not unhandsome. “Aye,” she replied. “Who are you?”

The knight smiled politely. “I am Brome St. John, commander of Conisbrough Castle,” he said. “We have answered your missive, my lady. I hope we have responded to your liking.”

Nicola sighed, although she tried to cover it. It was simply a reaction to his statement;
I hope we have responded to your liking.
She couldn’t say what she was thinking, that she wished she’d never sent the damnable message. But she was certainly thinking it.

“Thank you for your response,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound ungrateful for all of the effort. “Then it is safe to say Edward once again controls Babylon?”

Brome nodded. “He does, indeed,” he said, looking to Tab. “And this is your son, my lady?”

Nicola nodded. “This is my eldest son, Tab,” she said. “There are two more boys, younger. You will see them about, too.”

Brome smiled faintly at Tab, who was looking up at him with a great deal of hostility. “You have a fine young man by your side, my lady,” he said, wondering why the child looked as if he wanted to kill him. He tore his eyes off the boy, his expression somewhat hesitant as he fixed on Nicola. “I have not yet seen Lord Thorne. Do you know where I can find him?”

Nicola wasn’t sure what to say, at least in front of Tab. She endured the same question from Kenton those weeks back and she’d physically had to show the man where Gaylord was and she didn’t want to go through that again. The destruction of Gaylord’s tomb had been traumatizing and she was still fearful that Tab would hear whispers of what Kenton’s men had discovered. As she tried to come up with a generic answer, Tab suddenly spoke.

“My father is dead,” the boy said without emotion.

Nicola gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment as she turned to her son. But Tab was looking seriously at Brome, who gazed back at the boy with curiosity as well as disbelief.

“Dead?” Brome repeated. Then, he looked to Nicola. “Is this true, my lady?”

Nicola heard the question but she was looking at Tab, having no idea what to say to him. Was the boy simply making excuses for his missing father? Or did he truly know the man was dead? There was only one way to find out.

“Why would you say such a thing, Tab?” she asked, great emotion in her voice. “Your father has not been at Babylon for several months, that is true, but why would you say he is dead?”

Tab looked to his mother and it seemed to Nicola that there was no innocence left in his face at all. Just as he was trying to be a man by escorting her and declaring to protect her from harm, it seemed as if Tab had done a good deal of growing in a very short amount of time as of late.

If she thought about it, hard, it all seemed to start when Kenton began spending some time around him, helping him learn to fish or otherwise paying attention to the lad. Perhaps Kenton’s influence not only spread over her, but over her boys as well. They knew him to be a man of his word, a man who did not beat their mother as their father had, and someone who had taken time with them. Through the eyes of a child, Kenton was someone to be admired and emulated. Young Tab was emulating perhaps the only hero he’d ever known as her little boy tried to become a man.

“Because he is,” Tab said to his mother, without any hint of distress. “I know that Papa is buried in the chapel.”

His words were like an arrow to Nicola’s heart. She completely ignored Brome as she knelt beside her son, grasping the boy by the arms. Her touch was gentle but unmistakably supportive as she tried to determine just how much he knew and what, in fact, she should say to him. Gazing into his green eyes, she didn’t see much point in continuing the lie.

He knew.

“How do you know?” she asked softly. “I never told you.”

Tab wasn’t clear what had his mother so upset. “Papa was very sick and suddenly he was gone,” he said. “I heard some of Kenton’s knights say they found him in the chapel but I did not say anything because I did not want Teague or Tiernan to know. They still think he is off fighting wars. I know you do not want them to be afraid that Papa is not coming home so we should not tell them until they are older.”

Tears filled Nicola’s eyes at her son being so noble and strong for the sake of his younger brothers, keeping a secret he did not have to keep. It was all so very brave of him. But beneath that bravery, it began to occur to her that Tab didn’t seem to know
how
his father died, a result of the wound that Tab himself had inflicted. He had mentioned his father being ill so he knew that much, but it was evident he didn’t know
why
his father had taken ill. Therefore, she didn’t venture on to that subject. It was best not to. Even if Tab knew his father was dead, Nicola would take the reasons behind it to her grave.

“I am sorry I did not tell you myself,” she said softly. “I did not want to upset you. I planned on telling you and your brothers when you were a bit older and could understand.”

Tab pondered his mother’s words. After a moment, he shrugged his slender shoulders. “It does not matter,” he said. “Papa wasn’t a nice man sometimes. He hurt you. I stopped him from hurting you the last time.”

Nicola grunted softly, embarrassed that a strange knight was hearing her deepest family secrets. “Aye… you did, Tab,” she insisted weakly. “But that is all over now. We do not have to worry over that any longer.”

Tab watched his mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes. He didn’t like to see her upset but when the subject was his father, she was always upset. He frowned.

“It was better when Sir Kenton was here,” he said. “You didn’t cry at all. When I get bigger, I am not going to fight for Edward like my father did. I am going to fight for Henry with Sir Kenton!”

Nicola gasped, standing up quickly and putting herself between her son and Brome. “Tab!” she gasped, trying to push her rebellious son behind her, out of the man’s wrath. She gazed up at the knight, fear in her eyes. “He… is young and weary of war, my lord. We have seen much of it over the past few weeks. This is our third siege in such time and I am afraid it has worn on him, as it has worn on all of us. Forgive him.”

Brome was fighting off a grin at the very bold Tab Thorne. He’d actually learned a great deal over the past few moments listening to Tab speak of his father and of Sir Kenton. It was clear that the boy had no real love for his father, but he clearly had some manner of feeling for Kenton le Bec. He found that rather odd that a child should speak fondly of an enemy soldier but, then again, he had no way of knowing what had gone on with le Bec’s occupation of Babylon. There could be much more to the story than he was being told.

“He’s an admirer of le Bec, is he?” Brome said after a moment. “I cannot blame him. There is much to be admired with le Bec from a military standpoint. But I must say that, knowing that your husband is dead, it must have been very difficult for you with knights like le Bec holding Babylon. Were you treated fairly, my lady?”

Nicola nodded without hesitation. “Very fairly,” she replied. “Sir Kenton and his men were kind to us.”

Brome bobbed his head as if relieved. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “You were very brave to send the missive to me at Conisbrough, my lady. You risked much.”

I risked my very soul,
Nicola thought gloomily. As she looked into Brome’s features, she was suddenly very desperate for news of Kenton; she had to know the depths of horror she had brought down upon Kenton and his men. St. John would be the man to ask.

“Did you capture Sir Kenton, then?” she asked, trying not to sound too curious or eager or desperate. “I told you he was going to Manchester. Did you find him?”

Brome nodded. “I received word from Manchester this morning,” he said. “I am told that le Bec’s army has been routed. It is a complete victory for Edward and you are to thank, my lady. Without you, we could not have defeated le Bec. We owe you much.”

Nicola felt as if she’d been hit in the stomach. “A… a complete victory?” she stammered. “Are… are you sure? Le Bec has been defeated?”

Brome continued to nod. “That is what I have been told,” he said. “You see, my lady, when you sent your missive to Conisbrough, it was full of men who had just come from one of the recent sieges of Babylon. I had at least two thousand men at Conisbrough and when we received your missive, we were able to use the information to plan the defeat of Warwick, and le Bec, once and for all in this area. I sent the majority of the troops to Manchester to fight le Bec’s army while a small contingent of men took Babylon back from within. You were instrumental in that, my lady. I was there when you opened the postern gate for us last night. As I said, we have much to thank you for. We could not have been victorious without you.”

Nicola stared at the man, thinking she had never felt less heroic in her life. Her loyalties and emotions were all mashed up, twisted, only to be spit out in ways she couldn’t clearly decipher. All she knew was that she had made a massive mistake. That was becoming abundantly clear.