De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (29 page)

Early April

Kenton had never paid an overabundance of attention to the weather unless it had to do with planning battles, but he had little else to do in his chamber prison than stare from the window and sometimes watch the sky, and today was no exception. The weather was surprisingly pleasant, away from the freezing temperatures they’d suffered as of late, and the sun that streamed in through the lancet window was actually warm. He stood in it, warming his body, basking in the heat.

He’d started counting the days since Saxilby told him Nicola was coming to Conisbrough. He’d marked them on the wall near the door, using a chip of wood he’d pulled off the bed frame.
Six days.
It had been six days since he’d been told Nicola was coming. Six long days to plan what he was going to say to her. Six long days that saw him torn between simply accepting her actions and berating her for them.

But berating wasn’t in his nature, at least not in this case. He would keep his dignity and not lower himself to bellowing at her, telling her exactly what he thought of her betrayal. Telling her just how much she had hurt him.
Someone poisoned her against me
, he kept reminding himself. She’d said as much. But what Kenton very much wanted to know was who had poisoned her.

Who
did it?

Try as he might not to dwell on that question, it was forefront in his mind. As he stood by the small lancet window in his usual place, thinking on Nicola and her betrayal and who could have turned her against him, he thought back to more pleasant days, of days watching Tab fish with three lines or of watching Teague as the child tried to throw a pair of bone die and threw them right into the blazing hearth. He chuckled when he remembered Gerik trying to fish the die out of the embers with his bare hands. He would yell in pain and the boys would scream with laughter. All these memories, so many memories for so short a time, filled his brain. He’d never known distraction such as this, but lovely distraction it was.

Kenton was wrapped up in his thoughts, so much so that he didn’t hear or notice when the bustle in the bailey grew. Men began shouting and calling to one another, and the great portcullis of Conisbrough Castle lifted to admit visitors. There were several hundred of them, including a lady, and the big bailey of Conisbrough was soon chaotic with activity.

Kenton was usually attuned to what was going on in the bailey below but this time, he simply wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps it was because he was thinking of the time that Tab, trying to compete with the knights, belched so loudly that he ended up vomiting. It still made Kenton laugh to think of it. Or perhaps it was because he was remembering the feel of Nicola’s flesh in his hands. He was distracted, to be sure, and unaware that, four stories below him, the object of his obsession had arrived.

Nicola had come to Conisbrough.

“My castle appears intact,” St. John said as he politely led Nicola inside the keep of Conisbrough Castle, followed closely by Saxilby, Conor, and several other men. “I am glad to see that you did not burn it down or let it fall into enemy hands while I was away.”

Saxilby gave him a humorless purse of the lips. “Careful, St. John,” he said. “You are bordering on slander. The lady will have a bad impression of me before we have formally met.”

Nicola had been listening to the banter between St. John and a short, gray-haired man but she was more interested in Conisbrough as a whole and where, in fact, Kenton was located in this mammoth maze of walls and rooms. Their trip from Babylon had been uneventful in surprisingly good weather and now that they had arrived, Nicola had one thing on her mind and she didn’t want to wait. She wanted to see Kenton immediately.

The entire ride from Babylon had been filled with angst for Kenton, mostly for his safety. She had frightened herself into thinking that he might be slated for execution, creating terrifying fantasies about Kenton being executed without her knowledge or before she could tell him how sorry she was for misunderstanding his words. It
was
a misunderstanding, for based upon her conversation with Conor the day that Babylon fell back into Edward’s hands, it could not have been anything else. Fearful, and vulnerable, and feeling emotion she had never felt before, she had heard Kenton’s words and believed the worst. At least, that was what she wanted to tell him. She didn’t blame the man if he never spoke to her again.

Therefore, as St. John led the group into a rather large solar with a large, sooty fireplace and expensive rugs upon the floor, Nicola came to a halt just inside the doorway and faced both St. John and the gray-haired man. Mostly, she was looking at the gray-haired man who was about her height.

“I am Lady Thorne,” she said to him. “We have not been introduced.”

Saxilby smiled at the very beautiful young woman. “Lord Saxilby at your service, Lady Thorne,” he said. “May I say that you were extremely brave to send the missive to us regarding Kenton le Bec’s movements. Without you, we could not have captured the man or eased Manchester and Babylon from his grip. We own you much.”

Nicola had no time for the man’s gratitude, reminding her of her treachery as it did. “Where is Sir Kenton?” she asked.

If Saxilby thought her tone was rather curt, he didn’t let on. He pointed to the ceiling of the chamber. “Up there,” he said. “He is locked in a chamber awaiting transport to London.”

Nicola’s brow furrowed, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“He will be turned over to Edward.”

“And what will Edward do with him?”

Saxilby shrugged. “That is difficult to say, my lady,” he replied. “Please, may I offer you wine? You must be exhausted after your travels.”

Nicola shook her head, almost violently. She was starting to shake, anticipation of seeing Kenton almost too much to bear. “Nay,” she replied. “I would see Sir Kenton immediately. “

She was most adamant about it. Saxilby looked at St. John, bewildered by her passion, before returning his attention to her. “I do not understand, my lady,” he said. “
Why
must you see him?”

Nicola’s jaw began to tick. “It is my right. He held my castle captive. He… he stole from me. I want to see him
now
.”

Saxilby realized that he had the unhappy task of trying to keep the irate lady calm. “Most understandable, my lady,” he said, trying to soothe her. “It must have been very frightening to have Kenton le Bec confiscate your castle and occupy it, but I assure you that he can no longer harm or harass you. He is locked up safe.”

Nicola was only growing more agitated. “You will take me to him now,” she demanded again. “He smashed my husband’s crypt, for God’s sake. I have every right to tell the man what I think of his behavior and I will not wait. I have traveled three days to come here and you will not deny nor delay me. Take me to him
now
. I will not ask you again. I will simply go look for him myself.”

Her words were final and Saxilby believed her implicitly. He stopped trying to soothe or delay her, for he saw her point. He could see how upset she was.

“Very well,” he said after a moment, his gaze moving down her arms to her glove-covered hands. “You are not bearing any daggers, are you? No weapons of any kind?”

Nicola shook her head. “Of course not.”

Saxilby lifted his eyebrows, unapologetic. “I had to ask,” he said. “I would not be surprised if you came to kill the man who disrupted your life so.”

He did disrupt my life, but in ways you cannot begin to comprehend
, Nicola thought to herself. Again, she shook her head. “I am not here to kill him,” she said. “I simply wish to speak with him and tell him… tell him what I think of him.”

It was the truth, although everyone in the room took it to mean something other than what she had intended. Without another word, Saxilby motioned her with him and she immediately pursued, on the man’s heels, as St. John and Conor followed. When St. John realized that the lady’s knight was in tow, he waved the man off and, unhappy, Conor remained at the door to the solar, watching Nicola and the two men walk away, disappearing into a darkened stairwell.

But Nicola didn’t know that Conor had been left behind nor did she care. Her palms were beginning to sweat because she knew Kenton was close, nearer to her than he’d been in weeks, and it was as if her heart knew it. It was as if it could sense him, beating so strongly she was sure it was about to burst from her chest as she followed Saxilby up three flights of mural stairs built into the thickness of Conisbrough’s walls. By the time they reached the top floor, the ceiling was low, the landing was darkened, and there were four heavily-armed soldiers on this level guarding two doors from what Nicola could see.

Suddenly, she felt a bit nervous, intimidated even. The armed men were looking at her with suspicion, curiosity, and some interest and she felt exposed and fearful even though St. John and Saxilby were escorting her. She was so overwhelmed and excited to finally be within feet of Kenton that she was starting to feel faint. She wanted to see him in the worst way but her anxiety had the better of her. As St. John led her to one of the doors and put his hand up to throw the bolt, she stopped him.

“I will see him alone,” she said, looking at the disapproving faces of Saxilby and St. John. “I will scream if I need assistance, but what I have to say to le Bec will not be heard by anyone but him. Is that understood?”

She was making demands and the men, though wary, naturally agreed because a lady was always to be accommodated. Moreover, they figured the woman had been through enough with le Bec and deserved to verbally abuse the man after what he’d done to her family and to her fortress. St. John, the most reluctant of the men, sighed heavily.

“This is not advisable, my lady,” he said quietly. “Kenton le Bec is a very dangerous man.”

Nicola nodded impatiently. “I know he is,” she said, “and I will call you if I need you, but for now, you will remain out here. Please.”

So she was trying to be polite about it now even though she’d practically bullied and demanded to see Kenton since she had arrived at Conisbrough. St. John simply threw the bolt and pulled the door open. Nicola, with only a slight hesitation to reveal the apprehension she was feeling, entered the chamber.

St. John closed the door behind her, wondering how long it was going to be before he started hearing cries of help, from either one of them.

At first, Kenton thought he was hallucinating.

He’d been standing by the window, the sun on his shoulders, when the door to his chamber opened. He turned, casually, thinking it was Saxilby, but the figure stepping into the room wasn’t Saxilby at all. It was a vision he’d been dreaming of, fantasizing over, and agonizing over for days and weeks. It seemed like years. He couldn’t even remember how long the vision had been on his mind because it seemed like forever. Suddenly, Nicola was standing just inside the door and Kenton actually staggered. His shock was so great that he came away from the wall, stumbled and nearly pitched forward. His face, an open mask of astonishment, gazed at Nicola with more vulnerability than he had ever displayed. Before he could say anything, however, Nicola spoke.

“Are you well, Kenton?” she asked softly.

He nodded, once. Then, his head jerked and he nodded several times, rapidly. He could hardly draw a breath as he drank in her pale, lovely face.

“Aye,” he said hoarsely. “Are you?”