Royal Feud

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"We'll leave the castle tomorrow at dawn. We'll not give the king any reason to think we are flaunting his orders. We'll not hurt the villeins; we'll not destroy the furnishings. We'll not attack Ishton. Much as I would like to kill him with my bare hands, now is not the time. We'll go to Narhex. The house there is not as grand as this castle, but 'twill have to do." Morefy nodded and took another gulp of wine.

Several minutes passed in silence.

"Father? What will we do after we get to Narhex?" "Huh? Boy, pay attention!" Morefy growled. "Then we wait. Let Mercif become complacent. He'll let his guard down. When he has been lulled into carelessness, we'll strike. We'll kill Ishton. Make it look like an accident. Once he is dead, I'll ride in to comfort my poor, distraught daughter. As the only man in the family, I'll take over the castle. Force Lucy to marry me. Should've been me she married, not that knave Gavin." He took another swig of wine. "Twill be an easy matter to get rid of Hermione once I'm living at Ishton. That way the king'll not be able to give her or Ishton to someone else." "Aye, Father." Percy smiled. "That is a brilliant plan."

Morefy upended the wine bottle but only a few drops fell into his mouth. He hurled the empty container against the wall. "Make yourself useful, boy," he barked. "Send Langston up with more wine. I've some instructions to give him. And tell Sir Edgar to get the knights ready to leave tomorrow."

"Aye, Father."

"I want you to gather all the silver-spoons, plates, cups, candleholders. And don't forget the chapel. There's a lot of silver on the altar. Get going, boy."

Delvin was warming himself in front of the huge bonfire when Wyham joined him, offering him a cup of ale. He gratefully accepted and drank deeply. The cold February day had merged into an even colder night.

"There has been no movement on the crenellations, other than the routine

patrolling of their guards," Wyham reported. "There has been no sign of any attempt to leave the castle, so I do not believe there are any concealed exits." "I think you are right."

The sounds of the other men finishing their meal and settling down to sleep drifted through the darkness. Delvin took another drink of ale, savoring the subtle melding of

the spicy hop sharpness and malty sweetness.

Wyham cleared his throat. "King Henry has given me leave to remain at Ishton for

a while." Delvin looked closely at the suave, older man, surprised at his uncharacteristic lack

of composure. "Aye?" "That is, if you will allow me to remain." Wyham took a swallow of ale. "With your

permission, I would like to court Lady Lucy." ""Tis not my permission you will need. "Tis my mother's."

"Aye. I will not press my suit on her, if she is not amenable," wyham agreed, rocking back on his heels. "Neither will I approach your mother unless you approve."

"I approve."

Wyham nodded. Delvin glanced at his face, catching the relieved smile that briefly softened Wyham's mouth before he schooled his features into a bland expression. Delvin stared into his cup. He would have to plan his own campaign to woo his wife very carefully. Amusement lightened his brooding. He might be able to get some tips from Wyham's courtship of his mother.

"I am getting too old for war." Wyham complained. "Winter cold and a siege. Tis the worst possible combination." "Aye, that it is." Delvin took a drink of his ale. "Tis hard to keep alert when

watching castle walls is so tedious."

"At least the men are keeping occupied. 'Tis one good thing about they can go anywhere."

a pair of dice

The two men stood in affable silence until Delvin said at last, "I am going to get

some sleep. No telling what we will encounter tomorrow."

"Aye." Wyham agreed. "Good night, Ishton."

The two men parted company, each going a little distance from the fire to find a place to sleep. They lay on the ground, rolled up in their cloaks, like their men did. In the middle of the long night, Delvin was awakened to stand guard for two hours.

He quickly returned to sleep after his shift was over.

As dawn broke, all eyes were focused on Morefy's castle. Delvin's horse pawed the ground, raising his head restlessly, his hot breath steaming from his nostrils in the frigid air. Soothingly patting Geneir's neck, Delvin felt just as impatient to be moving. As the last streak of dawn's pale red vanished, the portcullis slowly rose. The king's forces waited, the men fully alert.

Within a few moments a group of riders galloped from the gate, crossing the barbican and drawbridge. Delvin recognized Morefy and Percy at the head of the procession. They did not slow as they neared the ring of the king's troops surrounding the castle, but their stance remained unthreatening. Their hands were on their reins and no weapons were in sight. Wyham signaled for his men to make way, clearing a path for Morefy and his entourage. Delvin counted five knights, in addition to Morefy and his son, as they rode past, not acknowledging the presence of the king's forces in any way. Wyham gestured to William, who called to his side a group of five men and together they galloped after Morefy.

Wyham left Belwick in charge of a small contingent of soldiers stationed outside the walls while he and Delvin led the remainder of the men into the castle grounds. Encountering no one as they rode through the outer bailey, they rode single file through a gate in the inner curtain before coming to a halt inside. Vociferous chaos reigned in the inner ward. Men, women, children, dogs, goats, and chickens all crowded around, clamoring for attention. Narrowly missing the dog that ran under his horse's hooves, Delvin brought his fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill, piercing whistle. The uproar ceased abruptly.

"Attention," Wyham shouted before pandemonium could erupt again. "Who is in charge here? Is there a bailiff?" "Aye, milord," yelled a man who stepped forward. His boyishly handsome face was

drawn and grim.

"What is your name?" Wyham called as the man approached his horse.

"Damien Langston, milord."

"Did Morefy leave any booby traps or ambush, as far as you know?"

"Nay, milord, I do not think so."

"I want you to take the villeins into the donjon. I want everyone seated in an

orderly fashion, understand?" "Aye, milord. I will see to it." Langston turned away, calling instructions that were promptly obeyed.

As the crowd began to file into the donjon, Wyham motioned Delvin forward. "Since these are now your villeins, I will leave you to deal with them while I secure the castle grounds," Wyham told Delvin.

"Aye, milord."

Delvin ordered Jessup, as well as Roger and Gordon, to accompany him. They walked their horses toward the donjon, then dismounted, trailing the people as they trooped inside. Langston was busy organizing the villeins, ordering them to set up the trestle tables and sit down. Delvin waited until ryone was seated before calling Langston over to him.

"I am Ishton. The king has granted me all Morefy lands and villeins."

"Aye, milord." Langston bowed.

Delvin inspected Langston. He was better dressed than the others, and his intelligent brown eyes were direct. "Why did you not leave with Morefy?"

"I no longer wish to be in his service, milord."

"And why is that?" "He viciously beat a man yesterday," Langston stated. ""Tis not the first time he has taken his rage out on someone weaker than himself."

"How long were you in his service?"

"Too long, milord. Almost two years."

"I want you to select five of the most trusted men here. I want them to gather up every article of value in the castle and bring it here. Every piece of silver, every candlestick, every dish, every pot and pan, all linens, cushions, bed hangings, everything. Understand?"

"Aye, milord." Langston bowed before retreating.

Delvin watched as the bailiff set to work, selecting and organizing the crew of workers. "Roger," he ordered one of his knights, "I want you to monitor the men.

Make sure they do not steal anything."

"Aye, milord."

Delvin stood in front of the fireplace, his feet spread apart and his left hand on the hilt of his sword, as he surveyed the people packed into the hall. Muted conversations gradually started. A baby's shrill crying quickly stilled when its mother put it to her breast. Realizing there were several children crying and their mothers were trying to quiet them, he walked over to the nearest child. At his approach the mother grabbed the small boy to her. then pushed him behind her. Her fear was almost palpable.

"I am sorry, milord," she whispered when Delvin stood in front of her. "I will make

sure he stops crying."

"I am not going to hurt the boy," Delvin said. "What is the matter with him?"

"He's hungry, milord. We've not eaten since yesterday." Delvin looked around. It seemed they were all staring at him. "Is that true of

everyone here?"

"Aye, milord," the woman answered. Delvin frowned. "Where is the cook?"

"Here, milord." A large man in a grease-stained apron came forward.

"Is there any food in the kitchen?" Delvin asked. "Aye, milord, but only Lord Morefy's food. We were f*******n to eat anything but

bread and cheese."

"Take the kitchen servants and go prepare a meal for everyone. Use whatever foodstuffs you can find. In the meantime, bring in all the bread, cheese, and ale you have."

"Aye, milord."

The cook bowed. He walked through the hall, issuing orders, and gathered together

several of the other servants before leaving the donjon. Within ten minutes after they had left, several maids returned, bringing bread. The

children quieted when they had something to eat. "Where is Ishton?"

The shouted question seemed to reverberate through the hall as a quiet fell over the crowd. Delvin turned sharply to see a man in priest's robes standing at the door. The gray-haired man leaned heavily on a cane, clutching it firmly in his gnarled hand, his lined face unyielding.

Delvin walked toward the priest. "I am Ishton. Who are you?" "I am Father Michael. Is it true you are going to destroy the castle?"

"Aye, Father. Those are the orders of King Henry."

"I need help packing up the furnishings in the chapel. Morefy has already ransacked it and taken all the silver from the altar and the sacristy." Father Michael's disgust was evident in the way he spat Morefy's name. "I want to ensure the proper handling of the rest of the chapel before any more sacrilege is committed."

"Aye, Father. I will have my squire assist you. I hope you will come with me back to

Ishton Castle. I am sure Lady Hermione will be pleased to have you join our household." Father Michael's wise eyes examined Delvin's face, as if trying to divine his character. After a long pause, he nodded in acceptance. "Aye. "Twill be a pleasure to see Lady Hermione again."

"Good." Delvin called Jessup over and gave him his orders. Wyham entered the hall shortly afterwards, informing Delvin that the men had scrutinized every inch of the castle walls and grounds and had encountered no problems. When dinner was served, Delvin instructed his men to wait until the villeins had eaten their fill. Only then did the soldiers eat, taking their meal in shifts so the castle would remain adequately guarded at all times.

At last Delvin and Wyham sat down together to eat.

"Did King Henry stipulate what was to be done with Morefy's possessions?" Delvin

asked. "Nay," Wyham replied. "They are yours to do with as you will."

"Then I will distribute the goods to the villeins." Delvin bit into a mutton chop and chewed. "I will send the villeins home to Carleigh. Morefy confiscated many acres of their farmland when he built this castle. Once it is destroyed, I will parcel out the land to them."

Wyham nodded. "Tonight, after everything is cleared out, we will tear out some of this wood and use it to construct the catapults." He gestured toward the stairs and the gallery above them.

"Then I will have some of the villeins remain behind to help with that." Delvin

threw the stripped bone in his hand on to the floor. Soon it would not matter howsoiled the rushes were.

Wyham took a piece of roast pork and ate it. "Tomorrow we will set fire to the interior of the castle and the buildings in the inner bailey. Once the fire has done its work, we will use the mangonels to tear down the walls."

"Aye. With any luck, we should return to Ishton Castle by the end of the week. I will send a messenger back tonight to let the ladies know what has happened." Delvin finished his ale and stood. "Let me know if you want to send a letter to my mother." With a grin, he lightly slapped Wyham on the back before striding off.