Lords of Darkness and Shadow (55 page)

The man was trapped. He cleared his throat unhappily. “Of course not,” he said. “But
your
chamber?”

Lady Elyse waved him off as she walked past him, turning to motion Devlin to follow. “Bring her along,” she told him. “Hurry, now. There is no time to waste.”

Devlin didn’t argue; he found himself thanking God for the appearance of this small woman who could move men to do her bidding better than any battle commander. Swiftly, he moved after her, not daring to look at the English warriors he was leaving behind in his wake.

Lady Elyse was fast as she led him through the gatehouse and out into the complex beyond. Devlin glanced at his surroundings as he followed her; it was as if an entirely new world opened up before him, one of neat dirt avenues and huts made from wattle and daub, with thatched roofs. People were everywhere, children and men and women, going about their daily lives. Lady Elyse led him through a town square of sorts, small in size, but with a central well and businesses and trades surrounding it. He could smell the acrid smoke from the smithy shacks. Everything was surprisingly well organized and more populated than he would have imagined. It was an interesting bit of knowledge on a well-protected settlement. This was some of the intelligence he was hoping to obtain.

But he didn’t have much time to inspect his surroundings as Lady Elyse swiftly took him down a larger avenue which opened up at the end; spread before him in all of its glory was another wall, this one of big gray stone, with a moat around it. The moat was as a moat should be; filled with muck and sewage, smelling up the area horrifically. The site was heavily guarded and Lady Elyse waved off the soldiers who stepped forward to inspect Devlin. The men backed away, eyeing Devlin with hostility and suspicion, as the Lady Elyse brought him into the guarded complex.

Inside the inner compound, the layout was simple; there was a block of stables to the left, another wattle and daub building to the right that was big enough for a substantial great hall, and the keep directly in front of him. 

It was the keep that had his attention as Lady Elyse led him towards it. It was at least three stories, built of the same gray stone that the wall was built from. It was sunk deep into the side of a small hill, as the entire complex was on a slight slope, and the entry door that opened wide to them was a massive thing built of iron and wood. The keep was also built in an odd shape; it seemed to have what looked like small wings off to the east and the west. He didn’t have time to study it, however, as Lady Elyse brought him swiftly into the dark depths of the donjon.

Once inside, Devlin struggled to adjust his eyes to the darkness. The massive door had been deceiving, for the entry it opened into was very small and box-shaped. There were also holes in the walls on either side of the room and he realized they were archer holes; should the door be breached, archers would be positioned to shoot down anyone foolish enough to enter. It was rather clever.

Lady Elyse directed them down the narrow corridor leading from the entry, which opened up into a large room that stretched for the length of the keep. It was a feasting hall because it had several well-worn tables arranged in it and a massive hearth that was spitting ribbons of gray smoke into the air. Dogs were wandering the room, scavenging for scraps, and Lady Elyse rushed past them. At the far end of the chamber was a spiral staircase, built into the thickness of the wall, and she encouraged Devlin to follow her.

He did, struggling with his bulk to make it up the stairs and not smack Emllyn’s head into the wall into the process. It was then that he realized several men were following them including Lady Elyse’s escort. Devlin wasn’t surprised but he knew he might be in for difficulty once he turned Emllyn over to Lady Elyse’s care. He was fairly certain the English were going to try and separate him from Emllyn. He had to be prepared.

The third floor was arranged exactly like the second floor which, he discovered, was fairly complex in design. This was a Norman castle and reflected the engineering skills of that race. The third floor also had the big room that stretched the length of the keep, this one with big wooden dividers in it that separated bed chambers, but next of this room was a second room that also stretched the length of the keep. It was into this chamber that Lady Elyse took him.

“There,” she pointed at an enormous canopied bed over near the equally enormous hearth. “Please put her there.”

Devlin did as he was told, making his way through the sumptuous and well-appointed chamber to lay Emllyn gently on the bed that was surely covered in feathers. He’d never seen anything so light or soft. He stood there a moment, gazing apprehensively at Emllyn, as Lady Elyse came up beside him.

“Where is her wound?” she asked.

Devlin lifted Emllyn’s skirts to reveal the bandaged left leg. “Here,” he said. “It looks like a battle wound, evidence that she was indeed in some sort of battle. That is why I believed what she said, that she was on Kildare’s armada. And she… she is very fine. Her hands are fine and her skin is fine. She is a woman of great breeding.”

He didn’t realize that his voice had softened dramatically as he spoke of Emllyn, but Lady Elyse was very aware. In fact, she actually came to a halt in her inspection of the unconscious lady, staring at the massive farmer who spoke of the woman with such tenderness. It was a surprising show of emotion.

“I promise I will take great care of her,” she assured Devlin softly. “Now, let me take a look at her wound.”

Devlin was very aware of the English knights standing back by the door to the chamber. He could feel their stares upon his back. He knew they wanted to speak with him but he remained next to the bed, vigilant, as Lady Elyse carefully unwrapped Emllyn’s leg. As she pulled the last of the wrappings off, she saw the mud poultice and stopped any further unwrapping.

“Sir,” she said to Devlin as she gestured over near the hearth. “There is a bell for the servant. Will you please ring it?”

Devlin looked over his shoulder. He saw no bell at first glance but he saw a silken cord that was strung up along the top of the wall. Following the silk cord until it ended, he could see a big silver bell at the end of it. He tugged on the end of the cord so hard that it pulled right off and rang the bell crazily. He turned to Lady Elyse apologetically with the cord still in his hand.

“I am sorry,” he told her, laying the cord down at the end of the bed. “I suppose I shouldn’t have pulled so hard.”

Lady Elyse was grinning. “You must be careful with your strength,” she agreed, eyeing the pure size of the man. He was quite handsome in her opinion, and she thought the fact that he seemed so protective over the lady to be very sweet. “What is your name?”

Devlin hesitated slightly; it was the only part of his plan he hadn’t covered because up until a few hours ago, he was to be a mute. He wouldn’t have to tell anyone his name and he figured that Emllyn would call him something and he would just accept it. But now, he had been asked, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

“John, m’lady,” he said. “It was my father’s name.”

It wasn’t a lie; indeed, it was his father’s name. Lady Elyse smiled politely. “You are a farmer?” she said, repeating what she had heard the soldiers say. “That is a difficult profession. No wonder you are so strong. You must work very hard.”

Devlin could see that Lady Elyse was a genuinely kind woman and he was surprised; all he’d ever heard of English women was that they were frail and silly. But Emllyn had changed his opinion and now Lady Elyse was coming to change it as well. He nodded at her statement.

“Aye, m’lady.”

Lady Elyse maintained her polite smile and was preparing to say something more when she caught sight of a servant out of the corner of her eye. Excusing herself, she went to speak to the servant, leaving Devlin standing alone with Emllyn. His focus returned to Emllyn, lying so pale against the fine coverlet. As he stood gazing down at her, his chest tight with apprehension, Emllyn suddenly stirred. Then she stirred again and groaned when she moved her leg. Devlin bent over her about the time her eyes fluttered open.

“Shhhh,” he whispered to her. “You are safe. Speak quietly, Emllyn. There are many ears around us.”

All Emllyn could see was Devlin’s big face filling her field of vision. She blinked her hot, crusty eyes. “Dev… Devlin?” she breathed. “What has happened?”

He shushed her again, his gaze soft upon her. “You must not call me by my name,” he whispered. “I am John. You must remember that – John.”

Emllyn was disoriented. “John?”

Devlin nodded faintly, a quick bob of the head because he knew the English soldier were watching him. He was terrified that one of them was going to walk up and pull him away, so he spoke quickly. “Can you listen to me?” he breathed. “It is important.”

Emllyn blinked her eyes again, becoming more lucid. She could see that they were in a room, somewhere, and there were things about her that she did not recognize. Frightened, she fixed on Devlin.

“Where are we?” she murmured.

“De Cleveley’s settlement,” he whispered. “You must know me only as John. I am a farmer who found you after Kildare’s defeat. Do you understand me?”

Emllyn could only slowly comprehend. After a moment, she nodded. “Aye.”

Devlin’s eyes twinkled warmly at her. “Good lass,” he murmured. “The poison in your leg is raging so I brought you here. A very nice lady is willing to tend you, so I don’t want you to worry. All will be well.”

Emllyn only moderately understood what she was told. Her mind was very muddled. As she lay there, gazing up at Devlin and struggling to digest what was happening, she caught a glimpse of a small, elegant lady with blond hair. Startled and apprehensive, she grabbed hold of Devlin’s hand as Lady Elyse drew near.

Lady Elyse was surprised to find her patient awake. She smiled kindly at Emllyn. “Greetings, my lady,” she said in her soft, sweet voice. “I am the Lady Elyse de Noble. You have been brought to me because you are very ill. I would like to help you if you will allow it.”

Emllyn was frightened and bewildered, and tears popped to her eyes. “Aye… aye, I would be grateful,” she murmured as a tear trickled down her temple. “Where am I?”

Elyse had a bowl of warmed water a servant had brought her and sat on a stool that another servant had pulled up to the bed for her. “You are at Glenteige Castle,” she said. “My father is Sir Raymond de Noble, commander of Lord de Cleveley’s garrison. You are safe, I assure you.”

Emllyn was still holding on very tightly to Devlin’s hand; he ended up taking a knee beside the bed, holding her small hand between his two big mitts. Emllyn’s attention moved back and forth between Elyse and Devlin before finally settling on Elyse.

“I am the Lady Emllyn Fitzgerald, sister of the Earl of Kildare,” she said softly. “He is allied with de Cleveley.”

Elyse nodded as she and another servant began to bathe the mud off of Emllyn’s wound. “I know,” she said. “We are most honored to have Kildare’s sister as our favored guest.”

Emllyn seemed to relax somewhat although she maintained a tight hold on Devlin. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I… I do not even know how I came here, to tell you the truth. I do not remember much, but please know that I am very grateful for your hospitality.”

Devlin thought he should probably say something to address her complete bewilderment in the situation. She was waking up to a strange place and strange people. He didn’t want her to inadvertently contest his story because, at the moment, they were scrutinizing everything about him. One wrong word might see him living the rest of his days out in the vault.

“I found you washed ashore on the beach after Kildare’s defeat at Black Castle, m’lady,” he said. “You told me that you were aboard the armada to witness your brother’s victory over Black Sword. You also had a very bad wound on your leg. Do you not remember any of this?”

He lifted his eyebrows at Emllyn as he spoke.
Please understand what I am telling you; this has become our story now!
Emllyn gazed back at him intently as her mind churned over information that, in a better frame of mind, she would have caught on to quickly. It took her several long moments but eventually he could see the glimmer of understanding in her eye. Yes, it was all coming clearer now. A brief nod of her head told him that.

“Aye,” she finally said. “I… I believe I do. I was on my brother’s flagship and we sailed to Ireland to meet the rebels who had taken over his lands. The ships… they crashed against each other when they made shore because the weather was so bad. I… I truly do not know how I made it out alive.”

Devlin breathed a long sigh of relief. “I found you on the beach,” he repeated. “You must have swam away from the destruction.”

Emllyn blinked, struggling to think clearly. “Mayhap,” she said softly. “I do not remember clearly.”

There wasn’t much more to say; she had played into his plans perfectly and Devlin could not have been more pleased or more at ease. He squeezed her hand and resisted the urge to kiss it as well; instead, he turned his focus to Elyse as the woman began to gingerly bathe away the mud from Emllyn’s leg.

“It was very swollen and painful,” he told Elyse, trying to be helpful. “I had nothing to give her for the pain.”

Elyse was focused on her work, eventually washing away the mud to see the angry red cut beneath. She visibly cringed when she saw how bad it was.