The Thunder Lord: The de Shera Brotherhood Book One (Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood 1) (8 page)

Therefore, she said nothing, instead smiling bravely when Jeniver looked at her, wiping at her eyes. Honey wondered at the great sons and daughters that this woman would bear for the House of de Shera. She was selfish, she knew. She wanted Gallus to have more children to perpetuate the de Shera line. But she also wanted the man to be happy and he was most certainly not happy as a widower.

“You are most welcome,” Honey replied belatedly to Jeniver’s gratitude. “We are quite happy to have you with us in spite of the circumstances.”

Unaware of Honey’s thoughts, Jeniver found herself thinking more and more about her father. In fact, she was starting to become rather anxious about it. Moving aside as the girls chased the dog around the bed, she sat rather forlornly on the bed.

“Would… would you please find out how my father is?” she asked. “Also, I should like to see him if it is not too much trouble. I promise I will not become hysterical or disrupt the surgeon.”

Honey’s smile faded. “I will discover the answers you seek,” she said. “Are you sure you are strong enough to see him, my lady?”

Jeniver nodded firmly. “I am,” she said. “Please, my lady. I would very much like to be with him.”

Honey understood. Wearily, she rose from the chair and Jeniver jumped up to help the woman, steadying her when she seemed off-balance. Holding on to the woman’s arm as they approached the chamber door, they were nearly bowled over when the little girls, followed by the puppy, darted out from beneath the bed and rushed past them.

Jeniver gasped, watching her puppy run off. “Oh… goodness,” she said, wanting to chase her dog but aware of her efforts to assist Lady Honey. “I do not want to lose my puppy. Where are they going?”

Honey clapped her hands sharply. “Violet!” she called. “Lily! Bring the dog back at once or you shall not be able to play with him any longer. Do you hear me?”

The little girls were out in the corridor, preparing to dash down the stairs, but their grandmother’s harsh voice stopped them. Begrudgingly, Violet reached down and tried to pick the puppy up but he was too heavy, so she ended up pushing the puppy back down the corridor towards the chamber, her little hands on the rump of the dog that squirmed and tried to run off. Jeniver released Honey and went to collect the puppy before it could run off completely. She kissed and cuddled the dog as the two little girls gazed up at the puppy longingly.

“Violet,” Honey said, catching the child’s attention. “Take Lily into her chamber, please, and stay there. If I discover you have left the room, you will not be able to play with the puppy at all. Is that clear?”

Violet frowned. “But…!”

Honey cut her off, wagging a slender finger at her. “Nay,” she said firmly. “No argument. Go into your chamber and take Lily. That is not a request.”

Unhappy, Violet grabbed her sister by the wrist and pulled the child into one of the chambers on that level. The girls squabbled a bit once they settled down inside, with Violet accusing Lily of sitting on her poppet. But the arguing soon quieted and Honey turned to Jeniver.

“There,” she said quietly. “They will stay to their chamber, at least for a while, so that you may have some peace. I am sorry that I had to use the threat of the puppy to gain their compliance. I can see that they are quite enamored with it and sometimes it is difficult to convince Violet to do anything she does not want to do.”

Jeniver smiled weakly. “I do believe I have heard my father say the same thing about me,” she said. Then, she eyed Honey. “Should I find a servant to help you? You seem to have some difficulty walking and I do not wish to see you hurt yourself.”

Honey shook her head. “I am feeling much better now,” she assured the woman. “I shall see to your father now. I will….”

She was cut off by heavy footsteps on the staircase. In fact, there were several sets of feet, all clad in heavy boots, as the hard leather soles slapped against the cold, stone stairs. Honey and Jeniver looked to the head of the staircase in time to see Gallus and two big knights mount the last of the stairs.

The corridor was dim as the sun, now setting, cast shadows through the thin lancet windows that were set high on the wall, intended to allow light into the corridor. The men wore tunics and mail, and Jeniver recognized all three of them. She knew Gallus by name but she did not know the other two who, as they drew closer, bore faint resemblance to the Earl of Coventry.

Jeniver wasn’t sure why an odd, trembling feeling swept her at the sight of him. Perhaps it was her general exhaustion, her grief, or any number of other things. The mere sight of the man seemed to make her heart thump against her ribs in a not wholly unpleasant feeling. When their eyes met and he smiled politely, the feeling grew worse. She thought she truly might be turning ill. As he came upon her and his mother, the man’s focus seemed to be solely on her.

“My lady,” he greeted her courteously. Then, he indicated the men beside him. “You have not yet met my brothers, Maximus and Tiberius. They were part of the group of men who rescued your party.”

Jeniver looked to the other two men. One was very broad, dark-haired, with enormous shoulders while the other one was, simply put, incredibly tall. He, too, had the dark hair and green eyes of his brothers, but he was already smiling at her, suggesting he was somewhat friendly. Both men were quite handsome. Jeniver dipped into a polite curtsy.

“My lords,” she greeted. “I thank you for your service. I am much appreciative.”

The two knights nodded at the same time but the tallest one, the one with the smile, spoke. “You are welcome, my lady,” he said. “I believe we managed to salvage most of what was on the wagon and twenty-one of your men survived the attack. We are housing them in the barracks.”

That was more information than Jeniver had heard since she had arrived at Isenhall. She began to get a scope of the situation and what she was left with, and it was far more than she had expected.

“Then why did those men attack us?” she asked, to the group in general. “Did they not try to steal all we had? Were they not attempting to rob us?”

Gallus nodded. “They were,” he said, “and they managed to steal most of what was on the wagon but my knights pursued them and took back what they could. We also managed to retrieve the strong box so you may want to count what is in it to make sure all of your money is there.”

Jeniver was stunned. It was an odd concept to realize not everything they had with them had been stolen after such a terrible attack. In fact, if the de Shera brothers were correct, then they had lost almost nothing except for lives, and possibly her father’s life as well. Sighing heavily, she slumped back against the wall, thinking of everything that had happened and the fact that the earl’s men had retrieved most of what she thought they had lost. Even so, the entire circumstance was sickening.

“So my father was gravely injured for a failed robbery attempt,” she muttered mostly to herself, wiping a weary hand over her forehead. Then, she looked at the men facing her. “Forgive me for only seeing that side of it. Although I am very grateful you managed to reclaim our possessions, I am devastated at the fact that my father may perish for a failed robbery attempt. I would much rather have him in good health than have any of our possessions.”

Gallus watched her lowered head, feeling a good deal of sympathy for her. “It seemed that your father was one of the first men struck by enemy swords,” he said quietly. “Even if we had arrived earlier than we had, the outcome would have been the same. I doubt we could have prevented his injury.”

Jeniver looked at Gallus, realizing she must have sounded ungrateful for their efforts. “Forgive me,” she said quickly. “I was not placing blame. I am very thankful for what you did. I was simply stating that I would have traded our possessions for his health. Had our attackers simply demanded riches before attacking, I would have gladly given all we had to them if they would have left us in peace.”

Gallus gazed at the woman, into her lovely eyes, thinking that she seemed mature and wise for a woman so young. She had an air about her of regality and common sense. He liked it. But there was also a strange sense of guilt for liking it, as if he were somehow betraying Catheryn’s memory by simply thinking such a thing. He was struggling with his thoughts when Maximus spoke.

“This group would not have left you in peace, my lady,” he said in his deep, hoarse voice. “We have had trouble with them before. They are a band of outlaws that populate the woods outside of Coventry and they prey upon travelers. We managed to capture three of them.”

Jeniver perked up. “Will you punish them for my father’s injury, then?”

Maximus nodded. He had a strong, cold air about him, a deadly hint. “Aye,” he replied. “They will be punished. We will send a message to the rest of their band explaining what happens to men who violate the Lord Sheriff of Worcester’s laws.”

Jeniver remembered that when Gallus had introduced himself, he had given Lord Sheriff as one of his titles. She looked at Gallus.

“Have you tried to capture these outlaws in the past?” she asked.

Gallus nodded. “Many times,” he said. “There is a main group, but the main group also has several offshoots, like roots on a tree. We have combed the woods, rousting their settlements, but we’ve yet to corral all of them. More always pop up in their place.”

Jeniver pondered that for a moment, averting her gaze as she did so. “Then the woods of Coventry are a dangerous place,” she commented, thinking on the lawlessness in England. “I wish I had known that before we chose to travel this way.”

Gallus could sense guilt in her statement. “The woods of Coventry are no more dangerous than the woods anywhere else in England,” he told her. “But I am truly sorry you were preyed upon.”

His apology did nothing for her. She still felt guilty and somewhat embittered, and it was a struggle not to dwell on it. Drawing in a long, deep breath to settle her tumultuous thoughts, she returned her attention to Gallus.

“My father,” she said, shifting the subject. “Your mother is going to ask the surgeon if I may sit with him. But… but if the worst happens and he does not survive, I suppose we should decide what is to be done with him.”

Gallus met her gaze steadily. “It is your decision where you wish for him to be buried,” he said, “but might I say this – you are a long way from Anglesey. It will take weeks to transport your father back to your home and your traveling party is already badly compromised. It would be a burden to transport a body in your present condition.”

Jeniver knew that but she didn’t particularly like the idea of him being buried in England. “What are you suggesting?” she asked.

Gallus cocked his head thoughtfully. “I would be honored to make room for him here, at Isenhall,” he replied. “Or, we could bury him in Coventry’s cathedral.”

Jeniver still wasn’t keen on the idea. “As much as I appreciate your offer, it would be his desire and mine to have him buried at Rhydilian Castle,” she said. “Generations of ancestors rest there. He would want to rest among them.”

Gallus understood. “I thought that might be your answer,” he said. “I am therefore prepared to supply you with men to escort you to Anglesey. But I hope you will at least wait. Some of your men are badly injured and need time to recover. Certainly you would not want to leave without everyone you came with.”

That wasn’t quite the truth. Jeniver’s singular thought was to take her father home as soon as possible but she didn’t want to seem cruel by leaving the wounded behind. Moreover, it wouldn’t have been right for her to do so and burden the earl’s hospitality. With a sigh, she reluctantly shook her head.

“Of course not,” she said. “I will wait until everyone is able to travel. In the meantime, I am afraid we will have to rely upon your hospitality. I would expect to compensate you, of course.”

Gallus shook his head. “True hospitality does not ask for recompense,” he said. “Besides, allowing my daughters to play with your puppy is payment enough. I have a feeling that when you leave, they are going to beg me for one so you must tell me where you purchased the beast. I can see a dog such at that in my near future.”

There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, something that elicited a timid smile out of Jeniver. The glimmer in his eye caused her heart to resume its pounding, a giddy sensation surging through her veins. She’d never known anything like it and she was torn between the surprise of it and the pleasure. Odd sensation, indeed.

“I purchased it from a woman in Paris who breeds the dogs,” she said. “It is quite a distance to travel just to purchase a puppy.”

Gallus grinned, displaying fine white teeth and a big dimple on the right side of his face. “When you have children, you will understand that you will move heaven and earth to please them,” he said. “That being said, I suppose there must be a trip to Paris in my future as well.”

As Gallus and Jeniver grinned at each other, Honey had been watching the exchange closely. She could see that there was some kind of mutual attraction, which thrilled her, but neither one of them had mentioned the deathbed betrothal. Either they were hoping it would be forgotten or they truly did not recall it themselves. She suspected the latter wasn’t the case because they were both intelligent people, which led her to surmise that they were ignoring it. Perhaps they thought she would, in fact, forget it as well, but they had a surprise coming to them – when the priest arrived from Coventry that evening, there would be no more skirting the subject. Perhaps they wouldn’t want to if they spent more time together, so Honey took charge before Gallus could run off again.