Royal Feud

Chapter 30

Chapter 30

"Morefy headed northwest when he left his castle," Sir William reported. "We kept him in our sights the entire time. He made no move to evade us or to engage us in any way. They camped out each night and avoided villages and towns. After traveling for five days, they stopped at a small manor house in the town of Narhex. I had some men gather information from the locals. The manor has been in Morefy's family for over thirty years, and he inherited it upon his father's death. We lingered a few days to make sure Narhex was his final destination, then left. We made it back here to Ishton in three days."

"Thank you, Sir William," Wyham said. "You and your men may enjoy a well deserved rest, then leave the day after tomorrow to rejoin the king. If that meets with the Earl's approval?" Wyham looked at Delvin.

"Aye," Delvin readily agreed. "Milord, thank you for your hospitality," William said.

"That will be all, Sir William," Wyham said.

After the knight left the solar, Delvin poured more wine into Wyham's goblet and sat back in his chair, staring blindly into the depths of his own cup. ""Tis possible Morefy has given up." Wyham suggested.

Delvin shook his head. "Morefy will give up only when hell freezes over. He has coveted Ishton too aggressively and for too long to give up so easily. Nay, he has some plan to eliminate me. We will just have to wait and see what it is. If I am dead, he can force Lady Lucy to wed him and take over Ishton. That was his original plan."

"Over my dead body, Wyham declared. "Let us hope it does not come to that." Delvin raised his cup and drained it.

Lucy looked over her shoulder, smiling at Wyham as he entered the herbarium and closed the door behind him. As usual, the courtier was dressed in the height of fashion, his forest green wool tunic bringing out the green in his hazel eyes. His close-fitting gray wool breeches were gartered at the knee while his tight linen hose, also gray, revealed his shapely calves.

"Good morrow, Robert," she greeted him before turning back to the worktable. "I will be done here in a few minutes."

"What are you doing, Lucy?" Wyham walked toward her.

"I am mixing some common poultices and tinctures. I like to make sure we have enough of the most frequently used remedies on hand."

"I enjoy watching you work, so take your time." Wyham came to stand next to her, leaning his hip against the side of the table.

Lucy sprinkled some elecampane root on top of the marble mortar and started to grind it using the matching marble pestle. When it was a fine powder, she added it to some honey in a bowl. She closed up the jar of elecampane root and put it back on the shelf above the worktable before selecting a jar of horehound.

"As I understand, Ishton Castle was built about fifty years ago." "Aye, that is correct." Lucy added the ground horehound to the mixing bowl.

"When was Morefy Castle built?" "Morefy came here about fifteen years ago. King Stephen granted him the land and

the license to build his castle." Lucy glanced at him but continued to mix together

the herbs and honey in the bowl.

"'Tis obvious that Ishton Castle and lands are far superior to Morefy's castle and

lands." "Aye." Lucy spooned the remedy into a glass jar. After securing the lid, she wrote out a label and tied it around the neck of the jar.

"Why did Morefy settle here? Why not build his castle on his properties in the

north?"

"I do not know."

She placed the jar with the poultice on the shelf. After cleaning the mortar with a cloth, she sprinkled dried sage leaves on its surface. A redolent, refreshing scent was released as she crushed the tiny gray green leaves. "Hermione told Delvin that Morefy's plan was to kill Delvin and Hermione, then force you

to wed him," Wyham stated.

"Truly? I suppose such a marriage would legitimize his taking of Ishton." "Did you know Morefy before he came to the Mersted Valley?"

"Both Gavin and Morefy received their training in knighthood from my father. I do not believe my father had much respect for Morefy. He told me that Morefy's family had approached him about the possibility of my marrying their son, but he refused them. Later he arranged my betrothal to Gavin."

"So Morefy has wanted you for years." "Surely not." She transferred the ground sage from the mortar

to a shallow dish.

""Tis not me he wants, but the property he thinks he can acquire through me." "Lucy, you are far too modest for your own good. I am convinced Morefy's interest in you is very personal. He wants you in his bed."

Lucy shuddered in revulsion.

"You will just have to marry me to make sure Morefy does not get ahold of you."

Wyham's tone was light and teasing.

Lucy glanced at him, smiling slightly. "Hmm. Mayhap I will."

Wyham reached for her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her to him.

She dropped the bowl onto the table and went willingly into his arms, sliding her

hands around his neck and leaning into his embrace as he lowered his head to kiss her. The heat of their leisurely kisses gradually intensified. She clung to him, savoring the feel of his arms holding her. His hands stroked up her back as he deepened the kiss. She whimpered, and he abruptly pulled back from her, moving hands to her waist. He held her away from him, steadying her.

"Lucy, I am sorry." His voice was hoarse. "Please forgive me. I did not intend to take advantage of you. I am afraid my passion for you overwhelmed me."

Lucy stepped closer to him, dropping her forehead on to his chest, her arms curling around his waist. The solid reality of him anchored and supported her. Whereas just moments ago she had experienced the fires of desire and hunger, his arms now offered her comfort and serenity.

"There's nothing to forgive, Robert. My passion for you overwhelmed me as well. "Tis been so long..." Wyham cradled her against his chest. "We will take it slowly from now on," he said

into her hair. "Nay. I do not want to waste any of our time together."

She leaned back, cupped his cheeks in her hands, and pulled his head down to her as she reached up to kiss him. Lucy caressed his broad shoulders and muscular arms before slowly drawing away from Robert's embrace.

"Milord, you will have to promise not to distract me again." She was breathless, her tone playfully stern. "Otherwise I shall have to ban you from my herbarium." "Aye, milady, Wyham said with a smile. "I will try to keep my hands to myself." She raised her eyebrows in question.

"At least for now." Wyham's voice lost its playful tone as he continued speaking.

"And, as for the danger Morefy still poses for you, I will just have to entrust you to the

Lord."

"The Lord will protect us. We will continue to rely upon him and commit everything to him in prayer."

Lucy touched Robert's clean-shaven cheek, marveling again at the graciousness of God. He had richly blessed her by sending this godly man into her life, a man as dedicated to the Lord as she was herself. Their devotion to God had only deepened as they shared their faith, and their lives, with each other.

laric entered the donjon, noticing that the hall seemed much quieter than it had been the last few days since the departure that morning of Sir William and the spent hunting with Wyham and his men, he sauntered toward the steps. Lucy hurried toward him, intercepting him in the center of the hall.

"Good evening, Mother." "Delvin, I am so glad you are back. I am worried about Hermione. She has not returned

yet.

"Where did she go?" Delvin frowned.

"Sadie, one of the villeins' children, is very sick. Hermione has become quite fond of the girl so she went into the village after dinner to bring Sadie some medicine."

"Did she go alone?"

"Nay. A nice young man offered to go with her. I think his name is Langston." Delvin clenched his jaw. "I will go and bring her home." He bowed briefly to his mother and strode toward the door.

"Milord." Renwold's voice stopped Delvin.

"What?" The steward recoiled slightly. "I am sorry to disturb you, milord, but Lady Ishton has not yet come back to the castle, and supper is ready to be served. Shall we wait supper until she returns?"

"Nay. Serve supper now. Lady Ishton and I will eat later." "Aye, milord." Renwold bowed.

He had expressly ordered Hermione to stay away from Langston. How dare she deliberately disobey him? Rage built with every step Delvin took. He marched to the stables, where he found the marshal. "Saddle a horse for me."

"Aye, milord."

Delvin left the stables and headed for the armory. Belwick entered as Delvin was putting on his chain mail hauberk. Hugh immediately moved toward Delvin and helped

him settle the armor over his shoulders.

"Milord, I have just learned that Lady Ishton has not returned from the village."

"Aye. And Langston is with her." "Sir Gordon went along as well, milord. He has been very diligent about keeping an eye on Langston."

"Good. Hand me my coif."

Belwick gave the chain mail helmet to Delvin, then picked up a pair of gauntlets and held them out to Delvin "Hugh, this may be a ruse on Langston's part to kidnap Lady Ishton, Send three

men to the village. I will not wait for them." Delvin pulled on the thick leather gloves. "Surely not, milord, Langston appears to be genuinely fond of Lady Mercif." "I do not trust him. He was Morefy's man for two years, after all."

"Ave, milord. Twill be as you command."

Delvin took the sword Hugh handed him and ignored the misgiving evident in his castellan's voice. He left the armory with Hugh at his side. Without speaking further. they split up. Hugh going toward the donjon while Delvin went to the stables, where he found his horse waiting for him.

"Saddle three more horses," he ordered the marshal as he mounted Guaire.

"Aye, milord."

The marshal released Guaire's bridle and stood back as Delvin turned the horse away from the stables. Once he was clear of the postern gate and down the drawbridge, he urged Guaire into agallop. Twilight merged with night, but there was enough light from the waning moon for him to find his way in the deepening darkness. When he entered the village, he slowed his horse to a walk down the deserted main street. Spotting three horses tied outside a wattle and daub cottage, he headed toward them.

Rounding the side of the small house he saw Langston holding Hermione in his arms, her bent head resting on his shoulder. Langston raised his eyes and steadily met Delvin's gaze. Hermione, with her back to the road, seemed to be oblivious to his arrival. Pulling Guaire up sharply, Delvin jumped down from the saddle. He rushed toward the entwined couple, the sight of Hermione in Langston's arms causing his already burning anger to explode into an inferno.

Gordon stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "Milord!" "Get out of my way." Delvin snarled.

"Milord, 'tis not what you think." Gordon said in an urgent tone. "The little girl is dying. The priest is inside giving her last rites. Lady Ishton is distraught. Langston is only comforting her as would a brother."

Delvin looked again at Hermione. Wrenching sobs raked her body. Her hands covered her face as she leaned against Langston's chest. The other man's arms protectively circled her upper body, and he was rubbing his hands up and down her back. Langston unflinchingly met Delvin's gaze but made no move to step away from Hermione.

Delvin took a step back from Gordon and willed his tense muscles to relax. "Aye.

Thank you, Sir Gordon." He cleared his throat to drive away the hoarseness cloaking it. Gordon moved out of his way.

"Gordon, three soldiers will be arriving here soon. Head them off and send them back to the castle."

"Aye, milord." Gordon bowed and hurried toward the main street. Delvin advanced toward Hermione and Langston, drawing off his gauntlets and thes pulling off his mail coif. He stood silently next to the listening to heartrending weeping. Eventually, when her tears abated and she lay quiet again Hermione's

Langston's chest, the younger man spoke. "Hermione." His voice was soft. "Lord Ishton is here."

She raised her head. "Delvin?"

"Aye, Hermione, I am here."

Langston's arms fell away from Hermione as she turned toward Delvin. The younger man stepped back, releasing her. Delvin moved closer to Hermione but made no move to touch her as she swiped her hands over her wet cheeks.

"Delvin, Sadie is dying." "What ails the child?"

"She has had a very high fever since yesterday." Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist. "She has been vomiting and suffering from convulsions. I gave her a tincture that Lady Dorothea used for fevers. But I do not know if it will do any good. It works best if it is administered right away, but Sadie has been fighting the fever for over a day and a half now. She is so little." A sob overcame Hermione.

"Sometimes using a water bath will bring down the fever enough for the body to

recover and get better." Delvin said. "I have seen it work before."

"Tis worth a try.

"Hermione, shall I fetch some water for you to use to treat the girl?" Langston asked. "Aye, Damien." Langston strode away, passing Gordon, who hurried back from the road. "Milord, the men are returning to the castle."

"Thank you, Gordon," Delvin responded. Gordon bowed and retreated, leaving them alone. Hermione stared unseeingly at the cottage door. Waiting quietly beside his wife. Delvin stifled his urge to touch her, to

comfort her, afraid of what her reaction would be.

Some time later, the door opened and Father Thomas came out. "Milady, there is nothing to do now but pray," the priest said.

"Aye, Father." Hermione's voice broke. "Milord, milady, please excuse me. I will go to the chapel and pray for little Sadie's

soul."