Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (14 page)

Everett, Reid and Max were
sitting around a well-used table with a pitcher of ale between them. A single
taper lit the cramped little room, hardly big enough for more than a few men at
any one time. Kenneth entered the room, startling the men from their quiet
conversation.

He looked at Everett. “Did you
wake him?”

Everett sighed heavily. “He is in
such a drunken state that I doubt the Last Judgment would wake him. You know
how he is when he gets like this, Ken. By morning he’ll remember nothing.”

Kenneth stared at him, reading
his thoughts. Sometimes he and Everett were so in tune with one another that
words were not necessary.

“It was his hose, wasn’t it?”

Everett nodded slowly. “Aye. He
is missing a nice little patch right above the ankle.”

After a long moment of silence,
it was Kenneth’s turn to sigh heavily. He wiped a weary hand over his face and
took a seat next to Max. The squire poured him a cup of ale and left the table.
He knew he was not invited to the conversation that was sure to follow.

Kenneth took a long, healthy
drink of ale, attempting to organize his thoughts. There was much to consider
now that any doubts he may have harbored were erased. Everett and Reid regained
their seats, watching him expectantly.

 “Drunken stupor or no, he must
be punished,” he finally said. “It matters not that he is our captain. His
offense is punishable by death.”

Reid had been at Kirk longer than
any of the knights, save Lucius. He knew their captain well and was probably
the best one to analyze the situation.

“He is never liked her, you know
that,” he said quietly. “Not since he first met her and she chastised him in
front of her uncle. I do not even recollect what it was about, but that set the
tone. The Lady Aubrielle seems to know that she can gain the upper hand with
him because he hasn’t the strength to stand against someone of her caliber. 
Deep down, he is a weak man with a weak character. He has achieved his status
in life by gaining political favor rather than by deeds or actions. The lady
knows this. Though he is the captain of a mighty army, that woman sees him for
what he truly is.”

Kenneth listened carefully. Reid
was a wise man and he respected his opinion.  “Be that as it may, his assault
cannot be tolerated and I care not for the reasons behind it.”

“They are reasons nonetheless.
“Reid knew that Ken was an inordinately hard man with little division between
the right and wrong of a situation. He sought to lend more of a balance to the
man’s decision. “Ken, the man got drunk, acted out his frustrations, and will
have no recollection come the dawn. Do you really want to kill him for that?”

“What I want is not at issue. He
attacked the lady of the House.”

“Understood. But I also believe
you must consider that he was not in control of himself when it happened.
You’ve known Lucius long enough to know how he is when he gets drunk.”

“Do you defend what he did,
then?”

“Of course not. I am simply
saying that he didn’t know what he was doing. He was too drunk to know.”

Kenneth pursed his lips. He
didn’t agree with Reid’s view. “Then what would you suggest? That Lady Aubrielle
simply dismisses him from her service and leaves it at that?”

Reid lifted his eyebrows. “He
might consider death preferable in that case,” he said. “Lucius has worked hard
to achieve this post. He is close to retiring. A dismissal will scar an
otherwise good career.”

“Christ, Reid, he scarred his
good career when he attacked the lady of Wrexham,” Kenneth raised his voice in
emphasis. “The law says that he should be put to death and you know it. He made
the choice to ruin his career, unconscious though it might be. No one forced
his hand in this.”

“True enough,” Reid said. “But if
he is dismissed, he will see it as the Lady Aubrielle replacing him with you.
He already thinks that you have gone behind his back to marry her in an attempt
to gain his post.”

Kenneth scowled. “Is that what he
thinks? The man is insane.”

“We all know that, Ken,” Reid
could see that the idea genuinely distressed him.  In fact, this was the most
passionate conversation he had ever had with Kenneth. “It simply happened to be
you. Had any of us been placed in the same position you had been ordered in to,
she might have offered the earldom to us. It just happened to be you.”

“And there is something else you
should probably consider,” Everett entered the conversation. “The last thing
you need is for a disgraced Lucius de Cor to go to London and spread lies about
you. It would scar your reputation.”

Kenneth knew that Lucius was
politically savvy enough to do that. “I ruin him, so he ruins me.”

“Exactly. And the worst part is
that he would actually believe it. There is no knowing what he would tell
others, particularly those in position of command and influence.”

Kenneth didn’t fear damage to his
reputation. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he was feeling guilty,
though he wasn’t sure exactly why. Lucius le Cor had always been kind to him.
When he first came to Kirk, the man had been more than helpful. Maybe,
unknowingly, Kenneth had somehow driven him to this. But what Reid and Everett
said was true; Lucius had been a political player, not a hard-core warrior.
Certainly, he would ride to battle and show a good amount of bravery at times.
He was also a decisive captain. But he used Kenneth like an attack dog, to
control the men and carry out his commands with an iron fist. There had been
times when Kenneth had carried out duties that Lucius had taken credit for.
Kenneth had not let the man’s actions bother him, for he was merely the second
in command and not interested in glory. He was interested in being the best
knight that he could be. Lucius had taken advantage of that, and now, it was
Kenneth who had the power. Lucius was understandably threatened.

“Then what would you suggest,
Reid?” he finally asked. “You have known him longer than anyone. I will take
your advisement.”

Reid toyed with his cup. “If it
was me, I would simply send him away. For as long as he remains, he will always
be some manner of a threat.  He can be a force to reckon with and that is a
worry that you do not need. He is attacked the lady once; next time, she might
not be so lucky.”

Kenneth thought on that. “Send
him away, but not dismiss him?”

“Send him away under pretense.
Make it a job of import that will keep him away for a while. Hell, send him to
London on a shopping trip. My suspicion is that once he is off and traveling,
he’ll not want to return. He’ll resign himself, with honor, and we’ll be done
with him.”

Kenneth considered the advice; it
was sound. “Then I will invent a pretense and Lady Aubrielle will deliver it to
him when he wakes from this binge. However, for the rest of us, his departure
will leave a hole in the chain of command. Reid, ‘tis only logical that you
assume his position. Everett, you’ll be in charge of the field troops, and
Bradley will be in charge of the fortress personnel.”

“What about you?” Everett asked.
“If Reid is our new captain, then…?”

Kenneth fiddled with a crack in
the table, a faint grin playing on his lips. “My good knights, I have the most
difficult job of all. It will be my solemn duty to rule an earldom and keep
Lady Aubrielle in check in the process. Anyone care to switch positions with
me?”

Reid snorted into his cup.
Everett stroked his chin thoughtfully. “She is a pretty piece of work,” he said.
“It might almost be worth it.”

Kenneth’s grin broke through, so
rare that none in the room could remember when last they saw it.

“So she has you smiling, does
she?” Reid prodded. “Pray tell us what she has done to warrant this from our
stoic leader?”

“Let me say that she has proved
to be a challenge and leave it at that,” Kenneth didn’t want to tell them any
more than he already had. He didn’t want to look like a silly, besotted fool,
which he was already dangerously close to doing. “A challenge isn’t always
necessarily a bad thing.”

Reid held up his cup. “Then a
salute to Lady Aubrielle,” he said. “Long may she be a challenge to you.”

Kenneth lifted his drink in
response. “And God help me to live through it.”

Everett snickered as he drank the
toast. Kenneth drained his cup. It would have been a good night to sit and
drink with men he could easily consider his friends. Still, he was not one to
let people close to him, not even men he trusted with his life. He was ignoring
the fact that Aubrielle was rapidly becoming an exception.

Making sure Everett was posted at
Lucius door until the man awoke, he excused himself to go about his rounds
before turning in for the night.

***

When he returned to Aubrielle’s
chamber, everything was as he had left it. Aubrielle was sleeping like the
dead, the dog still lay by her head, and the fire in the hearth burned low.
Kenneth stood a moment, watching her in slumber, enraptured by her beauty.  He
was still having difficulty accepting the turn of events over the past few days.

Not wanting to disturb her by
climbing back into the bed, he sat down in the chair near the head of the bed
and watched her sleep. He was still too edgy from his conversation with his
knights to sleep. There was much on his mind.  The dog stood up, stretched, and
plopped off the side of the mattress. He watched the beast trot over to him and
sit by his foot, wagging his tail. Kenneth cocked an eyebrow at the dog,
finally breaking down to pet its head.  There was such a surreal peace to the
moment that it all seemed like a dream to him.  Never in his wildest thoughts
could he have imagined himself finding contentment seated beside a slumbering
woman, petting her dog.  But content he was, in spite of everything.

Before he could completely settle
in for the night, there came a soft rap on the door. Kenneth rose to answer.
Everett stood in the hall, dressed in armor.

“The sentries have spotted
something,” he told Kenneth. “You should come.”

“It’s the middle of the damn
night, Everett.”

“I am aware of that. But neither danger
nor enemy stops for no one, not even the black of night.”

Kenneth quit the chamber without
another word said. It was an hour or so before dawn, the eastern horizon
turning pale shades of purple and pink as they crossed the bailey and mounted
the narrow turret stairs to the battlements. The walls of Kirk Castle were
massive things, measuring up to twenty-five feet thick in some parts. 
Protection had never been a problem. Kenneth took position on the wall as
Bradley debriefed him on the latest intelligence. Since Lucius was still passed
out and unable to tend to his duty at the present, Kenneth was in charge.

A large party had been sighted
skulking in the shelter of the woods to the southwest. The initial sighting had
been made just after midnight and Bradley has sent out a couple of scouts.  The
scouts had been swift and stealth, and had returned a short time ago with news
of a war party in the trees.

 “Retaliation for Dinas Bran,
perhaps?” Kenneth was always amazed that someone would have the gall to lay
siege to Kirk. “They must not have had their fill of battle, then. We shall be
happy to accommodate their request.” He turned to Bradley. “Prepare for battle,
Trevalyn. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Bradley had been up all night,
but with the scent of war upon the wind, he was as alert as anyone. He was a
seasoned knight and well acquainted with the drill that was part and parcel to
siege preparation. As he handled the battlements, Everett went to rouse Reid.
There were many arrangements ahead of them.  A strange sense of excitement, one
that was a part of their knightly blood, was in the air.

Kenneth went to the knight’s
quarters to don the garments he wore beneath his armor. His plate protection
was stored in the armory, a large room on the second floor of the gate tower. 
It was his next stop with Max, and the squire helped his master dress. 
Kenneth’s armor was more fitted than most, specially aligned pieces that fit
together like a precise puzzle and left little room for intrusion. He’d had it
specially made in London.

 Helm under one arm, he and Max
made their way back to the knight’s quarters. Kenneth wanted to see if Lucius
was anywhere near a coherent state. Upon finding the man snoring in his own
vomit, Kenneth decided that a battle was no place for the captain. It was a
disgusting spectacle, but he had seen it before. This was nothing new.

Promptly as the sun peered over
the eastern horizon, the attackers let out a barrage of flaming arrows. If the
Welsh had one particular battle talent, it was their deadly crossbows.  Several
found their way between the grates of the portcullis and rooted in the wooden
gate. The majority sailed over the wall and wrought a deadly path into the
bailey. Kenneth was barely missed by one up on the battlements; a few soldiers
in the ward were not so lucky.

Bradley had joined Kenneth on the
wall. Far below, they watched the enemy arrange loose lines and approach the
walls.