De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (32 page)

Conisbrough Castle

“I will never see my sister again,” St. John said, his face drawn and pale. “Dear God, what am I going to tell my mother?”

In the large solar at Conisbrough on a bright spring morning, St. John was leaning against the hearth, an opened parchment in his hand bearing terrible words from Warwick. Saxilby, who had just wandered into the solar to find St. John distraught over the missive, went to the man.

“What are you talking about?” Saxilby demanded. “What has happened to your sister?”

St. John held up the parchment. “Warwick has her,” he spat, distressed. “Somehow, someway, he found out that I am holding le Bec and he is trying to use my sister in an exchange. My sister for le Bec.”

Saxilby was horrified. “Your sister?” he repeated, aghast. “But how…? I do not understand! How did he find her?”

St. John sat heavily in the nearest chair, raking the fingers of one hand through his blond hair. “I do not know,” he moaned. “She is a ward of Lady Holland. Warwick has ways of discovering things that would lead people to believe he has a mystical gift for divining knowledge. He calls forth the demons of darkness and they tell him what he wants to know. They must have told him where my sister was and somehow the man took her. He
took
her!”

Saxilby patted St. John on the shoulder for the man was truly distraught. He endeavored to remain calm as St. John grunted and moaned. “So he knows we have le Bec,” he said, trying to think rationally and logically. “I suppose that would be no great feat, Brome. Men escaped from Manchester, men who knew the Conisbrough garrison had clashed against le Bec’s army there. Mayhap they even saw us take le Bec prisoner. Word has reached Warwick. There is no great mystery in what he knows.”

St. John was hanging his head, looking at the missive as if it were poison. “But he knew enough to know that I am garrison commander at Conisbrough,” he said. “Someone told him who I was.”

“Again, no great mystery,” Saxilby said. “There are men supporting Henry who know more of Edward’s allies than Edward does, and Warwick most of all. He knows le Bec is at Conisbrough and he knows you are the garrison commander. But I would truly like to know how he found your sister. That was quite cunning of him.”

St. John wanted to know, too. He grunted unhappily. “What manner of man would use a woman in such a way?” he asked rhetorically. “Katryne is young and innocent. Warwick must have killed Lady Holland to get to her for I know that woman would not have let my sister go without a fight. If he killed Lady Holland, then surely her husband is out for blood.”

“Her husband is on our side,” Saxilby said quietly. “Where
is
Henry Holland?”

St. John shook his head. “I would not know,” he said. “The last I heard, he was south, near Cambridge. His son-in-law was involved in a minor skirmish there, or so I was told. But that was months ago.”

Saxilby kept his hand on St. John’s broad shoulder. “I wonder if the Duke of Exeter knows that Warwick has gone after his wife,” he muttered thoughtfully. “It seems that Warwick will stop at nothing to gain what he wants. We should have anticipated that he would want le Bec returned to him.”

St. John was still staring at the missive, at the wicked, black letters that spelled out his sister’s fate. Slowly, he began to shake his head.

“I cannot give him le Bec,” he said painfully. “We have already sent word to Edward. He knows that le Bec is our prisoner.”

Saxilby sighed heavily, reaching down to take the parchment from St. John. He read it, twice, before re-rolling it and handing it back to St. John.

“He says he will send your sister back to you in pieces if you refuse,” he said. “I cannot believe Warwick would do such a thing. It is too barbaric to imagine.”

St. John was calmer than he had been only moments earlier, having gained some control over his emotions, but he was still deeply upset. He took a deep, cleansing breath.

“I have never heard of him doing such a thing,” he said, trying to be logical, “but Kenton le Bec means a great deal to him. The mere fact that he has my sister and is trying to bargain with her speaks volumes of his determination.”

“Whose determination?”

An inquisitive female voice came from the solar door. St. John stood up as he and Saxilby faced Nicola as she entered the room. She was smiling pleasantly at the pair, who displayed forced smiles in return at her unexpected appearance. Especially St. John; he was fairly grimacing at her.

“Good morn to you, Lady Thorne,” Brome said. “I trust you slept well after your difficult day yesterday?”

Nicola nodded. “I slept better than I have in quite some time,” she said. “There is something about clearing my conscience and my soul that brings about restful slumber. Thank you again for allowing me to see le Bec yesterday. It did me a world of good.”

“That is good to know.”

Nicola could sense that she’d walked into the middle of a serious conversation but she had no intention of leaving. She had just come down from her chamber when she heard their voices, the tension in them, and thought they might be speaking of something that had to do with Kenton. Who else but Kenton could bring about such tension to the commander of Conisbrough, she thought, and if Kenton was the subject, she wanted to know what was being said.

“Please forgive me if I interrupted something important,” she said, looking between the two because they’d essentially stopped their conversation. “You were speaking of someone’s determination. Could it possibly be mine?”

She was being quite charming with her question as she probed them, her eyes twinkling and a grin on her lips, and St. John smiled weakly. “Nay, not you, dear lady,” he said. “There are many determined people in this world, although I will admit you are one of the more determined ladies I have seen.”

Nicola laughed, meant to be a lovely and flirtatious sound. She didn’t want to leave until they told her what they had been speaking of because something told her that it, indeed, had to do with Kenton. She moved to the nearest chair and primly seated herself.

“My husband often said that to me,” she said. “I have three young sons who are just as determined, which I think one needs to be in this world. You cannot let people take advantage of you and, at times, you must fight for what you believe in. Don’t you agree?”

St. John wasn’t in the mood for a polite conversation. He was still lingering on the missive from Warwick and his sister’s predicament, but he remained courteous to Nicola as she all but barged into their conversation.

“Indeed I do, my lady,” he said. “There are unscrupulous people in this world that one must fight against.”

Nicola nodded, pleased he was agreeing with her, but she couldn’t help notice the parchment in his hand. He seemed to be gripping it rather tightly. She pointed to it.

“A missive has come?” she asked. “Could it be about Sir Kenton?”

St. John’s head snapped to her, startled by the question. “Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged. “Because you mentioned to me that, eventually, you would be turning le Bec over to Edward,” she said. “Has any progress been made on that subject?”

St. John looked at the parchment in his hand. He was still reeling from it, still feeling quite shaken by the entire thing. Without his usual control, now weakened by his emotions, he shook his head before he could stop himself.

“No progress as of yet,” he muttered. “We may have an obstacle to overcome first.”

Nicola was genuinely curious. “What obstacle would that be?”

St. John glanced at Saxilby, who vaguely shook his head, indicating he should not speak on the contents of the missive to the lady. It didn’t involve her, anyway, and would more than likely only upset her. But St. John was feeling emotional, and angry, and was unable to hold back his disgust.

“It would seem that Warwick has discovered that le Bec is my prisoner,” he said bitterly. “Somehow, he knows and he has done something unspeakable because of it.”

Nicola was deeply concerned. “What did he do?” she asked, gasping.

St. John turned away from her, looking at the missive in his hand before tossing it onto the nearest table. “He abducted my sister and has now proposed a trade,” he said. “My sister for le Bec. He says that if I do not agree to the trade, he will send my sister back to me in pieces. In fact, I should send le Bec back to him in pieces for what he has done. No man will give me an ultimatum such as that.”

Nicola was genuinely shocked at what she was hearing. “Warwick has your sister?” she repeated, aghast. “That is the most terrible thing I have ever heard. How in the world did he find her? How did he even know you had a sister?”

St. John was quickly becoming distraught again. “I do not know,” he said. “That is what Lord Saxilby and I were discussing when you entered the room.”

Nicola looked to Saxilby, who seemed rather perturbed that St. John had told her of his troubles. He wouldn’t look at Nicola at all. He simply turned his back on them both and went to sit on a chair near the hearth. Nicola watched the man as he seated himself, seemingly ignoring the others in the room. She returned her attention to St. John.

“What are you going to do?” she asked Brome. “Surely you cannot let Warwick harm your sister.”

St. John shrugged, clearly despondent. “I cannot give him le Bec,” he said. “Edward already knows we have him. He is expecting le Bec to be delivered to him.”

It didn’t take Nicola much more prompting to realize two things – that St. John was in a talking mood and that they had drifted onto the subject of Kenton being given over to Edward. She capitalized on it as quickly as she could because this was the information she had wanted all along, the information Kenton wanted to know. It was information Warwick would want to know. Going over to St. John, she put a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I am so terribly sorry,” she said sincerely. “But when do you plan on moving le Bec? Is there some way that you could put Warwick off?”

St. John shook his head but he was, not strangely, comforted by Lady Thorne’s concerned touch. “I am not sure how it could be done,” he said. “It was my intention to send le Bec to him in a few days, as Edward is moving south through Yorkshire as we speak.”

Nicola looked surprised. “Edward is in Yorkshire?”

St. John nodded. “Aye,” he replied. “He has been for some time. He is gathering men to march on London and we have been told he is moving south and will be at Doncaster by early next week. That is where I plan to meet up with him and deliver le Bec.”

Nicola hadn’t heard any of this. It was true that Babylon was her world and she only functioned within that world without being particularly knowledgeable on the current plans of movements of Edward, but with Edward in the north, he was much closer to Kenton than she could have imagined. The news that he was to be turned over to Edward in a few days in Doncaster was horrifying. Nicola wasn’t entirely sure she could send word to Warwick in time and once Kenton was with Edward, the chances of his escape would be greatly diminished. He would be at the mercy of Edward entirely. Terrified, her heart began to race.

“And… and Edward knows you have le Bec?” she asked. “You have already sent him word?”

St. John nodded. “I sent Edward a missive when I was first told le Bec had been captured at Manchester,” he said. “We knew Edward was in Yorkshire, and the general area, so the messenger went to find him. The same messenger returned a short time ago and was able to deliver the message to Edward personally. That is how we know Edward will be in Doncaster by next week.”

So now it was all explained. Missives had been flying back and forth, missives of Kenton and Manchester and probably Babylon. Missives were flying everywhere, discussing Edward, and Kenton, and Nicola had known nothing about them. Not that she made it her business to know everyone else’s business, but still, much had happened that she had not been aware of. Edward probably knew everything about what had happened with Babylon and with Manchester.

Secrets, and battles, had been revealed.

Oh, God,
Nicola thought as she lifted her hand from St. John’s shoulder and began to pace away.
What now? What do I do?
Quickly, oh so quickly, she began to think of a way to salvage the situation, to send word to Warwick quickly enough. She didn’t have time to go back to Kenton and ask his advice on the matter so she had to think on this one all on her own. She knew she had to get word to Warwick and get it to him quickly; that much was imperative. Edward knew about Kenton and, already, his delivery to Edward had been planned.

“So we must save your sister before next week,” she said, pretending to be very concerned for St. John’s sister when, in fact, it was only Kenton she was concerned for. “I… I have an idea that you may not like but it may be the only thing we can do to save your sister. It would seem to me that if you cannot, or will not, exchange Kenton for your sister, then mayhap we must give Warwick something that is equally attractive.”

St. John was looking at her with great interest and curiosity, as was Saxilby. “What could be equally attractive to the man?” St. John wanted to know. “He wants le Bec. What else could we possibly give him?”

Nicola fixed him in the eye. “Something that belongs to me, something he very much wants,” she said. “Offer him Babylon in exchange for your sister’s life. Surely the man must consider it. He wanted Babylon badly enough to send le Bec after it those weeks ago. I will send my husband’s knight with a missive to Warwick to tell him that, although you cannot give him le Bec in exchange for your sister, you will offer Babylon instead. How could he possibly refuse? He will regain the fortress that he very badly wanted.”