Timeless Tales of Honor (84 page)

Arissa made a face at the thought. "Team, indeed. Sometimes they can be most overbearing. Having one mother can be difficult enough, but two...." she rolled her eyes humorously, giggling when Penelope laughed. "But my mother seems very happy to be here, don’t you think? I am so glad Lady Maude has welcomed her into Lambourn's family."

Penelope nodded, catching sight of her husband on the battlements. "Even though Lady Maude did not give you life, you are still her daughter. And she considers Lady Ellyn part of the family because she’s your birth mother."

Arissa's slippered feet met with the gravel and dirt road leading to the bailey of Lambourn. "I remember when I first met my mother at the abbey, how somber and quiet she was. As if the years of separation had taken something out of her. But here, she seems most content. She knows she belongs."

"She belongs with
you,
" Penelope waved to her husband as he acknowledged her from the ramparts above.

Arissa agreed as she allowed her brother to lead her into the beautiful new bailey. The babe in her belly kicked as she moved across the dusty courtyard and Arissa was positive it was because, naturally being not only a le Bec but a male child, he was expressing his pleasure at the sounds of horses and soldiers and weaponry. All that his father was, he would soon be a part of, too.

In spite of the somewhat shocking pregnancy of an unwed lady, Arissa relished the feel of the life inside her. She did not care what anyone else thought of her shameless state, for she knew the child had been conceived in love and devotion. Both of her mothers knew that as well, especially Ellyn, who acutely remembered her similar circumstance those eighteen years ago.

Even if a few of the other occupants of Lambourn whispered and pointed, it was of no matter to Arissa. She was proud to bear the child of a man she loved with all her heart. A man she had loved for as long as she could remember.

The child gaining strength and size inside her was a portion of Richmond that crown or country could never take away, and she prayed every night that he survived the war in order than he might know his son. However, as fearful as he had been of her conceiving a child, she wondered if the sight of her swollen body would be enough to accomplish what hordes of English knights had failed to achieve; perhaps the shock would be enough to send him to his grave.

As the small group crossed the bailey with leisure borne of a slow pace and obvious conditions, Daniel came swinging down the ladder from the battlements. Penelope thought he was coming to see her; instead, he focused directly on Bartholomew and Arissa.

"An army has been sighted a mile out, Bart," he said. "Your father is coming home."

Bartholomew's face immediately brightened. "Are you sure?"

Daniel nodded, passing a glance at Arissa. "Henry's banner has been sighted as well."

The color drained from Arissa's face. If the army was returning, then it could only mean something monumental had occurred; her father had been at the border for five months with nary a reprieve. If the entire army was on the retreat, then it could only mean that the war for Wales' freedom had come to a conclusion. God help her, she did not want to know the details of the conclusion.

Bartholomew felt her sway in his grasp, his glee quickly turning to concern. "Riss, I am sure he’s all right," he whispered comfortingly, releasing his hold when Emma and Penelope took a firm grip on either arm. "Allow Emma and Pen to escort you into the castle. I shall come to you with the details, I promise."

She shook her head, her face pale and her lips colorless. Just as she attempted to refuse his request, Mossy came scurrying from the castle.

"I saw the banners!" he announced loudly. "The earl's returned, and Richmond with him!"

Arissa nearly collapsed. "How can you say that?" she gasped. "He was fighting against my father and the rest of the English army, including Gavan, and they all want to kill him because he’s a traitor!"

Mossy took Arissa from Penelope's grasp, patting her arm gently. "Do not get yerself worked into a fit, Riss. Ye'll bring about yer son far sooner than we would like, and I do not expect I would enjoy delivering a seventh-month babe," he attempted to pull her toward the castle, but she was slow to come about. Mossy simply patted her arm again in a comforting manner. "If ye come, I shall make ye a brew of honey and rosehips. Ye like honey and rosehips, Riss."

She allowed him to lead her to the steps when the sentry horns sounded high above her head, piercing the heat of the late July sky. Arissa was jolted by the sound, digging in her heels at the threshold to the castle entrance and refusing to go any further.

As Mossy supported her gently, she turned with fear and apprehension to the yawning gates of Lambourn. 'Twas foolish to run, she knew. Whether the news from Wales was good or bad, she had to know all the same.

It all seemed to have come about so quickly, with nary a message or rumor announcing the ending of the border wars. The troops that had battled against Richmond and the Welsh were suddenly returning home, undoubtedly victorious, which could only mean that her beloved had met his end at the hands of those who had once served him. Sweet St. Jude, he had promised to return to her.
He had promised
!

The horn sounded again as Penelope, Regine and Emma joined Arissa in her wait. Lured by the blast of the horns, Lady Maude and her women appeared in the doorway, followed very shortly by Lady Ellyn. Eight ladies with wide eyes wait on the steps of Lambourn, listening to every shout, watching every action, as Daniel and even Bartholomew prepared the bailey for the earl's arrival.

The minutes dragged. Arissa's palms were sweating, her face pale as she waited for the first of the column to appear. Beside her, Mossy continued to hold her hand and he could feel her rapid pulse, sensing her terror.

After a small eternity, a rider clad in the earl's colors came barreling through the gates, met by a host of sentries and the ladies on the stairs strained their ears to catch a word of the message being delivered. After a moment, two of the sentries abruptly broke from the huddle and came racing towards the castle.

Arissa’s heart was in her throat as the soldiers bore down upon the small group, positive that they were preparing to relay cataclysmic news. Hand to her neck, she nearly toppled over when the soldiers reached them.

"The earl requests your presence, Mossy," one of the men practically shouted. "He has a mortally wounded man."

Arissa could scarcely breathe as Mossy let go of her, calmly sending one of the men for his medicament bag as he descended the steps and moved toward the huddle of soldiers. The women on the stairs watched with apprehension as Mossy was loaded onto a destrier and whisked out of the bailey.

From that moment on, Arissa remembered very little of the wait. The column was growing closer, indicated by the activity on the battlements, and the first of the standard bearers finally appeared in the gaping gateway. She was vaguely aware of her mother's comforting hand on her shoulder, a slender white appendage that resembled her own. As the ladies observed the activity, more of the earl's army poured forth to reveal a column of knights. Arissa recognized Gavan before she recognized the earl.

Something deep inside of her suddenly broke free and Arissa pulled from her mother's grasp and bound across the bailey toward the incoming warriors. She could hear a good deal of shouting and commotion as she dodged soldiers and horses alike, struggling, striving with every ounce of strength she possessed to reach Richmond's former best friend. She had to reach him. She had to know what had happened.

"Gavan!" she screamed. "Gavan, where's Richmond?"

Gavan saw her coming, torn between shock at her condition and complete, utter grief. He dismounted his charger so rapidly that he nearly stumbled, fighting to regain his weary footing even as Arissa propelled herself into his arms. In a great cloud of silk and raven-black hair, Gavan found himself clutching her as if to crush her.

"Riss!" he gasped, dazed and overwhelmed. "My God, You are.... you are pregnant!"

She had no desire to respond to his observation. "Where's Richmond? What happened?"

She was hardly cognizant when he grasped her tightly and began to lead her back into the collection of men and wagons still filtering in through the gate. "It's over, Riss," he said hoarsely. "Henry was victorious."

Her face went ashen and he could feel her strength wan. Adjusting his grip, he found himself practically carrying her through the ranks of men and animals. "Sweet St. Jude, Gavan,” she moaned. “Where is Richmond?"

Gavan swallowed hard, his eyes searching for the familiar wagon he knew to be at the rear of the column.

"We engaged the Welsh army at Shrewsbury on a bright morning, the twenty-first of July,” he said. “The battle was intense, as fierce as I have ever seen any battle, and above the smoke and death and carnage I could see Richmond poised on a rise, watching the scene below him. He just sat there, unmoving. It was odd, Riss; I have never known him to be inactive in any fighting."

"Gavan...," Arissa pleaded. She did not want to hear his story. She only wanted to know what had become of Richmond.

But Gavan was not ready to disclose the fate of his friend. His
best
friend. There was still a good deal more to tell.

"The day progressed and Richmond remained on the hill, and I was sorely tempted to engage him myself,” he continued. “But as I made my way toward him, Richmond abruptly spurred his charger headlong into the massacre below. As I watched, he approached Hotspur with his broadsword drawn and, suddenly, the two of them were battling like Lucifer and Gabriel.”

Gavan paused as his eyes located the wagon which he sought. Instinctively, he pulled Arissa closer as he advanced on the rig. "He.... he was magnificent, Riss," he continued in a scratchy whisper. "He and Hotspur fought for hours and hours, ignoring the rest of the battle waging around them. As if it were just the two of them, determined to resolve the outcome of the entire battle between them. I have never seen anything like it and I pray to God I never will."

Arissa could barely function. Her breathing had all but stopped, her legs barely able to support her weight as she gazed up at Gavan's weary, stubbled face. She could scarcely ask what she knew she must.

"What.... what happened?"

Gavan reached the rig; Arissa was so caught up in his story that she failed to notice Mossy kneeling in the wagon, huddled over a prostrate form. Gavan noticed, however; he couldn't help the tears that stung his eyes.

"Hotspur gored him as I watched,” he murmured. “But as Richmond fell back, I was witness to the most amazing battle strategy I have ever seen. He closed his eyes and I thought surely he was dead; instead, he managed to bring his blade up and catch Percy in the neck. What hours of close-quarters fighting had failed to procure, Richmond achieved in his final blow. I have oft seen him lodge arrows visualizing the target rather than actually seeing it, but I have never seen him use the tactic in open battle," his voice was hardly a whisper as his anguish-filled gaze found her. "He killed Hotspur without seeing him, Riss. It was the only stratagem he had left because all else had failed."

Arissa's knees gave out completely and Gavan lifted her in his arms, moving toward the bed of the rig. "Gavan, Gavan," she murmured, too consumed with her grief and terror to allow her tears to come forth. "What
happened
to him? Where is he?"

He put her in the wagon bed.

"Here, Riss. He’s here."

On her knees, Arissa's eyes drank in the sight of Richmond lying prone on the rough slats of the wagon bed. At first, she simply couldn't comprehend what she was seeing; it did not look like Richmond. His hair was long, his face sporting several days’ growth of beard. Baffled, she peered closer to notice that he was clad only in his lower body protection and his magnificent torso was naked but for the heavy wrappings Mossy seemed to be adjusting.

Arissa was in limbo as she approached the still figure. She wondered why she couldn't feel anything as she gazed down upon Richmond's still face, a face she had loved for as long as she had been alive.

Somehow, she managed to inch forward on the wagon bed, unaware that the earl, Bartholomew, Gavan, and the rest of her tightly-knit family had suddenly appeared at the edge of the rig, watching with the greatest sorrow as she came to grips with Richmond's state. But she was not conscious of any of them; only Richmond.

"He’s in a bad way, Riss," Mossy said gravely. "Hotspur cut him through the groin and he has a terrible infection, not to mention that he’s lost a good deal of blood."

Arissa heard him but she could not respond. As she continued to gaze at Richmond, she realized that the most meaningful thing in her life was stretched before her eyes, dying from a wound sustained in battle. Dying as a result of his love for her, of his duty to his king. Dying for his torn loyalties.

She couldn't cry. As she watched his shallow breathing and ashen complexion, her pain went beyond simple tears. Nay, tears were not strong enough. Not cleansing enough, not forceful enough. Nothing was strong enough to ease her anguish. Nothing but her love for him.

A white hand reached out to touch his clammy forehead; he was burning with fever. "How long has he been like this?" she whispered.

"Four days," William was standing next to the wagon, his sunken gaze moving between his daughter and the knight. His voice was weak, tight. "You were right, Riss. He was loyal to Henry to the end. He turned against Hotspur and killed him, making it possible for the English to emerge victorious. When Hotspur was killed, the Welsh panicked and ran. If it hadn't been for Richmond, England would not have been victorious. He won our battle single-handedly."

Her hand still on his head, she raised her eyes to the group collected about the rig. Her gaze was unnaturally bright. "I told you, but you did not believe me. Richmond was never a traitor; he did what he had to do in order to save me. He’s still Henry's greatest knight."