De Wolfe Pack 05 - Walls of Babylon (35 page)

Warwick was visually inspecting Kenton, peering closely at his face and still slightly-bruised forehead. “You look well enough to me,” he said. “How do you feel?”

Kenton noticed that Wellesbourne and de Russe now had St. John between them, trying to force the man to drop his sword, which St. John seemed reluctant to do. “I am well enough,” he said. “I was treated very well, considering. And that man that de Russe and Wellesbourne are attempting to subdue is Brome St. John, the garrison commander of Conisbrough. He should be given all due respect, my lord. He was humane and fair in his treatment of me.”

Warwick turned to see what Kenton was looking at; four knights in a standoff. De Russe and Wellesbourne were trying to convince St. John to drop his sword as Conor got up behind St. John, making sure the man didn’t make any swift or foolish moves.

“That shall be up to him,” Warwick said. “If he does not drop his sword, we cannot treat him fairly.”

Kenton knew that. He spurred his horse towards St. John as the man held off the three heavily-armed Warwick knights. Warwick followed close behind and, as the men came close to the standoff, Kenton spoke out.

“St. John,” he said loudly “Drop the sword. Your escort is finished and so are you. Please do not make this difficult.”

St. John looked at Kenton with resistance, hesitation, and some frustration in his expression. “You know that I cannot surrender, le Bec,” he said. “If I go down, it will be with a sword in my hand.”

“Do you want your sister returned?” Warwick suddenly called to the man. “If you want your sister returned and not sent back to you in pieces, then you will drop your sword.”

St. John looked to the older man behind Kenton, suspecting who he might be simply because of the very fine but well-used armor he wore, and the horse he rode upon was an utterly magnificent beast. He wore the crimson Warwick tunic that St. John had seen, many times and, after a moment, Brome sighed heavily. He knew he was already defeated but he simply wasn’t ready to give in yet. He couldn’t believe how sour his luck had turned.

“What do you know of my sister?” he asked.

Warwick shrugged. “I know she is my guest,” he said. “I know that I sent you a missive telling you that I would exchange your sister’s life for the life of Kenton le Bec. Now I have Kenton but you do not have your sister. Swallow your pride and lower your sword, St. John. I will not tell you again.”

The conversation suddenly took an ominous turn in that threat. Warwick meant what he said. Kenton, who truly didn’t want to see St. John killed, put up a big hand and motioned for him to lower his sword. It was a plea. St. John looked at Kenton with an expression that suggested he was the one who felt betrayed, as if this entire ambush had been Kenton’s doing as a personal attack against him. But St. John’s expression also suggested that he wanted to live so, with a heavy sigh, he handed the sword, hilt-first, to de Russe, who took it.

The ambush, officially, was ended.

“Now,” St. John said to Warwick. “Tell me your name and tell me of my sister’s health.”

Warwick eyed the young, strong knight whom Edward had placed a good deal of faith in. He could see the faint resemblance between the man and his sister.

“I am Warwick,” he told St. John. “Your sister’s health is fine. She is doing quite well. I read the missive you sent to me with a counterproposal to my original offer; in exchange for your sister’s life, you are offering to withdraw from Babylon Castle and return it to me.”

St. John nodded, looking and sounded defeated now that Warwick’s identity had been confirmed to him. “Aye, my lord,” he said glumly. “That was my offer.”

Around them, the fighting had stopped now that St. John had surrendered his sword. Warwick’s men began gathering their own wounded, which there were only two, and the able-bodied began assessing St. John’s wounded. Men were being picked off the road and brought onto the cold, damp grass, but none of the knights or Warwick seemed to notice. They were entirely focused on what was appearing to be negotiations for the release of St. John’s sister.

“You know,” Warwick said, leaning on his saddle horn and shaking a finger at St. John, “I could become quite upset at you for ignoring my demand for Kenton. You were taking him to Edward in spite of my threat against your sister. Is it true that you fear Edward more than you value your sister’s life?”

St. John shook his head. “In a sense, my lord,” he said honestly. “Edward knows I have Kenton and he wants him very badly. Should I fail to deliver him, the repercussions would go beyond simply me. My family would be involved and our honor would be at stake. I was planning on the fact that you would not kill a defenseless woman in spite of your threat and that we might be able to negotiate for something just as valuable. You wanted Babylon badly once, badly enough to lay siege to it. I assumed you would want it back so I offered it.”

Warwick had to admit that the knight’s logic was sound. He looked at Kenton, who seemed to think the same thing because Kenton nodded faintly at Warwick as if to concur with St. John. It was a silent confirmation of an agreeable point. Warwick returned his attention to the captured knight.

“I do want it back,” he said. “You were actually quite wise with your negotiation tactics in suggesting it. But now that I have Kenton back, I still want Babylon returned to me. Clear out your men immediately and I will give you back your sister.”

St. John looked at the knights around him, obviously holding him prisoner. “In order to do that, I would have to be permitted to return to Babylon,” he said, pointing to de Russe. “This very big knight might not let me leave so easily.”

Warwick cocked an eyebrow. “That very big knight, as well as a few others, will escort you back to Babylon where you will order your men to leave, “ he said frankly. “Once your men have vacated, those same knights will send word to me that your part of the bargain has been accomplished. Once I receive that missive, I will return your sister to you unharmed. Is that clear?”

Begrudgingly, St. John nodded. “It is, my lord.”

Warwick smiled without humor. “Excellent,” he said. “Now, collect your wounded and my men will bury your dead. You will return to Babylon this day.”

St. John looked around him, at the fact that nearly all of his escort party had been killed. He felt rather sick about it. “What of Edward, my lord?” he said. “He is expecting me in Doncaster.”

Warwick shook his head. “If you show up in Doncaster without Kenton, how do you think he will react?” he said, pointing out the obvious. “To say the man will be displeased is putting it mildly. Nay, St. John, you will return to Babylon this day without further word to Edward. He will wonder what has happened to you and to Kenton, of course, but it is my suspicion that he will not waste an overabundance of time on it. He has much larger things to deal with right now. Return to Babylon and deal with Edward at a later time.”

St. John had no choice. He could see that. Around him, men were gathering up his wounded and putting aside his dead. He couldn’t do anything about Kenton any longer. Now, he had to focus on his sister and the bargain he made for her release. Edward wouldn’t even know about that part because he more than likely didn’t even know Babylon was currently being held for him by the Conisbrough garrison. Warwick was right; Edward had more important things to worry about than whether or not he held Babylon Castle. With that in mind, he simply nodded his head.

“Very well,” he said. “Let us move for Babylon so that I can ensure the release of my sister.”

B
abylon is where Nicola has gone
, Kenton thought. Remembering how fondly St. John had spoken of Nicola suddenly spurred him into action.

“I will return with them, my lord,” he said, already moving his horse off of the embankment and down to the road. “Babylon was mine and shall be again. I have become rather fond of it.”

Warwick stopped him. “Nay, Kenton,” he said. “I have need of you with me. Let de Russe, Wellesbourne, and de Birmingham take St. John back to Babylon. They are quite capable.”

Kenton stopped but he didn’t return to Warwick. Instead, he simply looked at the man, struggling not to argue with him. He hadn’t expected Warwick to deny him and now he felt slightly panicky about it.
What if I cannot return to Nicola?
It was all he had thought about, the only thing that kept him sane. He had to be reunited with her, to hold her in his arms again. He didn’t want to go with Warwick in the least and he certainly didn’t want St. John to return to Babylon with Nicola there and Kenton unable to protect her or stake his claim. Nay, he didn’t like that thought at all.

I must return to her!

“My lord, when I left Babylon for Manchester, I was expecting to return,” he explained with more patience than he felt. “I left most of my possessions there, things that belong to me and things that I want returned. Allow me to return to Babylon to collect what belongs to me and then I shall join you wherever you may be.”

Warwick didn’t want to deny the man but he had his reasons for his request. He crooked a finger at Kenton. “Come with me a moment,” he said. “We must speak.”

Obediently, Kenton went to him and the two of them moved away from the road, away from ears that could overhear their conversation. Kenton had to admit that he felt incredibly resistant at the moment, resistant in that Warwick wanted to prevent him from doing what he wanted to do. He struggled with his manner, trying not to convey how displeased he was, as Warwick came to a halt just inside the tree line and faced him.

“Let me explain what has happened since you have been at Babylon and in captivity,” Warwick said quietly. “Edward landed upon the shores of Yorkshire, moved through Percy lands, and gathered a fairly substantial army. It is that same army he is moving south at this moment, the one that is soon to pass through Doncaster. We have heard rumor that he is heading to London but more than that, I have heard specifically that he intends to attack Warwick. That is my home and my seat, Kenton. I cannot allow that. My army is therefore moving south as we speak, heading to Warwick Castle and trying to avoid Edward in the process. I have been told that Oxford is already waiting for Edward further south, preparing to engage him. There are massive dealings afoot, Kenton, and I need you. Edward must not bring his army into London, for if he does, we will lose this fight for Henry. Is this in any way unclear?”

Kenton absorbed what he was being told, the movements of the man who wanted to be king again, and he was not surprised. Nothing Edward did surprised him any longer.

“We have been hearing rumors for months that Edward planned to gather strength in Yorkshire,” he said. “Surely this is of no great shock, my lord.”

Warwick shook his head. “It is not,” he said. “But I am concerned with the size of the force he has gathered. Allies are waiting for us to join with them, further south, but I am retreating to Warwick Castle and I want you to come with me. Will you do this?”

Kenton thought on the greater implications of that question. It wasn’t as if he could refuse even though he very much wanted to. He wanted to stay at Babylon with Nicola and the boys and pretend that all of this warfare, battles and kings that had been part of his life for so very long, no longer existed. He didn’t want to fight anymore. The promise of a new life was waiting for him, something he very much wanted, but he knew he had no choice when it came to Warwick. He could not leave his old life, not just yet.

The thought greatly saddened him.

“Of course I will, my lord,” he said, wondering if his unhappiness showed. “But you must allow me to return to Babylon and retrieve my possessions. It is a three day ride at the very most. I will collect my things and catch up to you as you travel south. Also, I had a great many men with me when I went to Manchester and many were captured in the battle. I do not know what has become of the rest of them but I would like to find out. You will need the manpower.”

Warwick waved him off. “The men who were not captured by Saxilby returned to me with de Russe and Wellesbourne when they came to tell me of the disaster at Manchester,” he said. “They managed to escape the battle that saw you become a prisoner. I have four hundred of your men under my command, men that will gladly return to you.”

Kenton was relieved for the most part. “Thank you, my lord,” he said. “But I still worry about those men who were captured.”

“Where are they?”

“At Conisbrough.”

Warwick pondered that for a moment. “Unfortunately, we cannot do anything about those men at this time,” he said. “We are moving south and I cannot deviate to go to Conisbrough and demand their release.”

Kenton nodded but even as he did so, a thought occurred to him. He turned to look at St. John, who seemed to be in conversation with Wellesbourne. Kenton scratched his chin.

“Do you think we can include the release of those men along with the surrender of Babylon?” he asked. “We have the commander of Conisbrough at our service, after all.”

Warwick realized what he was suggesting. “Brilliant,” he said. “Tell St. John we require the release of your men from Conisbrough in addition to the surrender of Babylon or he will never see his sister again.”

Kenton cast him a rather dubious expression. “I will not threaten a woman with death,” he said. “Suffice it to say that I think I can convince St. John to give me back my men without promising to kill his sister if he does not comply.”