Jacq's Warlord (33 page)

“I’m starved,” Jacq said to no one in particular.

“When aren’t you hungry, Lady Jacq?” Annie asked, and everyone around them laughed.

“Let’s just eat.”

Surrounded by the people who were quickly becoming family to her, Jacq sighed with satisfaction. She’d made a difference here. How she wished she could share her accomplishments with the two men whose opinion mattered to her. Saying a quick prayer for them both, she tucked into her meal.

* * * * *

Kaboom!

Mud flung up by the small explosion rained down on the crowd that had gathered to watch the results of her latest attempts at making “milady’s bombs”. Women screamed and all but a few of the men ran to take cover behind the walls of the keep, while Jacq let the mud pepper her clothing. She wanted to savor the success. Few moments in her life had been as satisfying.

Geoffrey, eyes wide and with a grin splitting his face, ran up to her. “Lady Jacq, that was…incredible! Can you imagine—? Did you see—?”

Jacq laughed and Geoffrey finally stopped trying to put to words his excitement.

“Good Lord, you have excavated quite a crater there, milady.” William cautiously approached the side of the fresh hole and peered inside. “Do you think one could use your bomb to dig a well?” His normally dour expression was as delighted as a boy’s.

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Jacq crossed her arms and basked in their wonder. All the disappointments of the last few days faded into memory. She’d mixed her ingredients and breathlessly awaited the results each time, only to have the black powder fizzle or smoke. She had not been so engrossed that she didn’t notice the wide berth the castlefolk gave her because of her odd actions…and the fact she reeked of sulfur.

“Milady, wherever did you learn the recipe for this weapon?” Geoffrey asked, his expression curious.

Jacq looked Geoffrey in the eye, not wanting to lie to her new friend, but knowing there were limits to what knowledge she should impart about her past. “From my father,” she said simply.

He nodded. “Lord Rufus said he was a Crusader. He must have seen many wondrous things in his travels.”

Feeling a little wistful, she smiled. “I think he would find Rathburn pretty wondrous.”

“Do it again! Do it again!” Annie cried as she escaped Gwen’s arms where she stood hunched behind the wall.

Jacq shrugged. “I guess I should make sure that wasn’t a fluke, but only one more or I’ll deplete my stock.”

Standing over the large bowl of gunpowder she’d just finished making, she carefully ladled the mixture into a gourd, packed it with wadding, and then laid it aside. Next, she threaded twine through the hole pierced through the center of a wooden stopper and packed it into the hole in the gourd.

She held the finished bomb high above her head. “Everyone take cover.” The crowd scattered, running for the gates.

Geoffrey brought a lit twig from the fire she’d stoked earlier. “Milady, would you allow me do it this time?”

Raising an eyebrow, she relinquished the bomb to him. Geoffrey’s eagerness amused her. Just an hour earlier, he had scoffed at her efforts. He lit the fuse but held it, seemingly entranced by the spitting flame as it ran up the twine.

“Throw the bloody thing!” Jacq screamed.

Geoffrey quickly tossed it, but he didn’t throw it very far and they both dove for the ground.

Kaboom!

“Are you all right?” she asked, as she looked anxiously to her companion lying facedown in the dirt.

His mud-covered face rose from the ground, but she sighed in relief when she saw his gleeful smile. Cheers and congratulations rang out from the crowd lining the top of the wall.

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Geoffrey blew out a deep breath. “God’s ballocks! That was close.” As he wiped the mud away from his face, he gave her a pointed look. “Now, are you going to tell me just what target you have in mind for your bombs?”

Rising first, she offered him a hand up, and then slung an arm around his shoulder as they both headed back to the keep. “Well, you see I have this plan…”

Geoffrey groaned, “I might have known.”

“Ho, there!”

Jacq looked up to the guard atop the wall walk who waved his sword. When he saw he had her and Sir Geoffrey’s attention, he shouted, “A rider approaches.”

They turned and awaited the newcomer. As he neared, Jacq recognized him as one of Rufus’ men and her heart thudded against her ribs.

“Lady Jacq, I have news.” He was breathing hard, his face creased with worry.

Jacq’s heart lurched in her chest. “Lord Rathburn…is he well?”

“Yes, milady. He is with Duke Henry as we speak, negotiating for an end to the war.”

Briefly, Jacq closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realizing she’d been holding it the whole time she’d waited for his response. Her heart slowed a pace.

“Milady, the entire castle is in grave danger. I passed an army of soldiers two days’

ride from here, headed in the direction of Rathburn.”

“Why are you so sure they’re coming here? I thought you just said Henry is negotiating for peace,” Geoffrey said.

The messenger’s gaze held Jacq’s as he spoke. “I know them to be bound for Rathburn. Lord Percival of Sedgwick is their leader.”

* * * * *

“What troubles you, my friend?” Donald asked, clapping a hand on Rufus’

shoulder.

Rufus looked out over the meadow, dotted with the tents of Henry’s army. Soldiers gathered around campfires, drinking ale and gaming. Now that hostilities had ended, they fought boredom.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged off Donald’s hand and paced a few steps away from him. “I have this uneasy feeling something isn’t right.”

“The negotiations between King Stephen and Duke Henry are going well, are they not?”

“Yes, yes. That is not the problem. Call it instinct, but I feel I am needed at home.”

“What is this?” Donald’s expression was sly. “Now that it appears our fighting arms are not needed, are you pining for your woman?”

Rufus frowned and looked away. He drew in a deep breath before speaking quietly.

“I sent a messenger to her a week ago.”

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“Still no word from him? He should have been back by now.”

“He should have been back two days ago,” Rufus said impatiently.

“Anything could have delayed him. Perhaps you worry for naught.”

Damnation! I know something has happened at Rathburn and here I sit.
He hated feeling helpless about anything. What he needed was action. He reached a decision. “Gather the men. I will speak with Henry.”

“Are we going home?”

“Yes.”

Rufus rode the short distance from the camp to the abbey, the site of the negotiations. He found the duke at his noon meal, eating while he paced as was his habit. Servants followed him, carrying trays and pitchers, while other nobles also carried their food as they tried to converse with their future king.

“Rufus, come in, come in.” Henry halted and his face lit up when he spied Rufus at the door. “You look like a man with a purpose.”

Without preamble, Rufus blurted out, “I request to return to Rathburn. I am needed there.”

“Have you received word of trouble?” the duke asked, concern in his eyes.

Hating to appear foolish, but feeling driven by a sense of restless urgency, he shook his head. “No, Your Grace. I sent a messenger, and he is long overdue. I fear something has happened. As it appears I am no longer needed here, I would like to return home.”

“Rufus, your instincts have served me well. By all means, be on your way. Should you meet trouble you will need more men. Supplement your ranks with a contingent of my own men.”

“Your Grace…” he faltered when the duke’s eyes narrowed in warning,

“Henry…that is extremely generous of you. Thank you.”

“Nonsense. I owe you a boon for my life. God be with you, Rufus. Send word to me of what you find.”

“Yes, Henry.” He sketched a quick bow and departed.

Rufus and his men were on their way by midafternoon, pushing hard to make as much headway as possible in the daylight. His sense of urgency grew with each passing hour.

At dusk, he reluctantly called a halt to allow the men and horses to rest, but they broke camp the next morning before the first rays of dawn streaked across the sky.

Halfway through the day, they spied a lone rider headed in their direction. Rufus went ahead of his men to intercept him. Relief filled him when he recognized his man—

until he saw the messenger’s face.

“What news have you of Rathburn?” he demanded before the man reined his animal to a halt.

“You must hurry, milord. By now, Rathburn will be under attack.”

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“By whom? Who would not know a truce has been called?”

“Percival of Sedgwick,” he spat.

Rufus’ whole body stiffened as he fought his horror. Percival was out for revenge. If the castle fell to his forces, Jacq would be at his mercy.

“So, the bastard lives,” Rufus said in a low, dangerous voice. “Come, I have a death to arrange.” Spurring his horse into a canter, Rufus led his men to Rathburn.

* * * * *

“Dammit! I thought I’d killed him,” Jacq said, as she spied Percival’s golden mane in the distance.

“Apparently not,” Geoffrey murmured, as they both watched the forces gathering below from the wall walk. “Although he looks quite ill.”

Percival did look wretched. Even from a distance, Jacq could tell he’d lost considerable weight. Fear rose like bile in her throat as she remembered their last encounter. During the past days, she’d hoped the messenger had been wrong. “Are we ready?”

“As ready as we can be, milady. If we ration the food properly, the stores in the keep’s cellars will last a couple weeks. The men are at the ready along the wall walk.”

He frowned his disapproval when he said, “I’ve also positioned your ladies in the towers at each arrow loop. I have no liking for using them, but they will have ample cover within the towers from which to fire their arrows—if need be.”

“Excellent! And the bombs?”

“The men did as you ordered, milady. We buried the jars at strategic points just beyond the curtain wall. If you look, the upright sticks in the ground indicate where the fuses are tied.”

Jacq nodded, taking note of each position. She had packed jars with the homemade gunpowder, along with shards of metal and rocks, and dipped the fuses in flammable oils. “If our aim is true, we can ignite the bombs with the pitch-covered arrows the ladies prepared yesterday. Be sure to keep fires going in the braziers on the walk to light them.”

“The order has been given.”

“I don’t know how much actual damage the bombs will do when they go off, but perhaps the surprise will make Percival and his men wary of approaching too closely.

However, once those are gone we’ll have to resort to tossing lit explosives over the wall.”

“The gourd bombs are in baskets, there, there and there,” he said, pointing to where they lay.

“Very good. Now, we wait for his first move.”

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Today, she wore men’s clothing, and her hair was tied back with a leather thong.

Jacq carried a bow with a quiver of arrows strapped to her back and a sword in its sheath at her side. Standing tall, she wondered if her father would have been proud of what she’d accomplished. With all her heart, she prayed she and all those around her lived to tell their children and grandchildren of the great battle they had fought and won.

“Lady Jacq.”

Tearing her gaze from the forming army, she glanced back at Geoffrey questioningly.

“Lord Rufus instructed me to tell you something, should your life be in danger. I’m not sure I understand what it means.”

Jacq’s jaw clenched at the mention of Rufus. How she needed him now…and wished she could hold him one last time. “Yes, Geoffrey? What message did he have for me?”

“He said to find your way home.”

Tears blurred her eyes and she looked away from the man-at-arms, her gaze falling to the people of Rathburn gathered anxiously in the courtyard below. They all looked to Geoffrey…and her…to lead them through this. They needed her. And she needed to see Rufus, if only just one more time.

The past couple of days, she and Geoffrey had led a whirlwind of activity in preparation for the coming battle. While half the people had laid the weaponry in place and fashioned hundreds of arrows, the other half had brought in foodstuffs, packing the cellars of the keep with supplies to see them through a siege.

It had taken a full day and a half to get everything in place, as well as bring the outlying tenants and many of their animals within the walls of Rathburn Keep. Now the people looked up at them, trusting in their strength to lead them through the coming days.

She shook her head. She was where she belonged. Until these good people were safe, going home wasn’t an option.

* * * * *

“Can you see them, Lady Jacq?” Annie called to her as she climbed the wooden steps to stand beside her on the wall. She was so small she was barely able to see over the edge of the stone parapet.

“Yes dear, I see them.” Jacq smiled at the little girl. “Shouldn’t you be in the keep with Agnes and the other children?” Geoffrey had decided to leave the cook in charge of the children for fear her excessive weight might endanger the stability of the wooden steps.

“But I am a warrior! I want to be just like you,” Annie argued.

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“Yes, and you are a fine archer and a sure shot with the sling, but it’s not safe for you up here. Arrows will be flying shortly and one might strike you.”

“One might strike you as well. Why don’t you come down, too?”

“Because I’m tall enough to see over the walls to spot where the arrows will come from and you are not. I can see what I’m shooting at. When you’re tall enough to see over the stone, you too can defend the castle with the others. Besides, you’re needed to lead the other children. Agnes will have her hands full with them. Now, go.” Jacq bent and placed a kiss on Annie’s forehead, then patted her backside, nudging her in the direction of the steps.