Read The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) Online

Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

Tags: #Medieval, #Fiction, #Romance

The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (25 page)

“An army?” he repeated. “What army? Have you seen banners?”

Colton nodded. “Our scouts say that they bear Henry’s banners,” he said. “They are coming from the west.”

That didn’t clear up Lucien’s confusion in the least. “Henry’s banners?” he repeated. Then, he began to think. “Who is located to the west that would be bearing Henry’s banners? Waldour is closest, but they are to the south, and Sherborne and Exeter are to the west.”

Colton was quickly indicating the boots in his hand, to put them on, and Lucien took the hint, sitting on his bed so he could put his shoes on. He was more awake now but utterly puzzled. With the boots on, he grabbed his tunic and pulled it over his head on his way out of his chamber. Colton was fast on his heels.

“Did our patrols contact them?” Lucien asked as he took the narrow spiral stairs.

“Nay,” Colton said. “They thought it best to return and report the approach first.”

Lucien hit the ground floor of the keep, practically running past his solar and out into the dark bailey of Spelthorne.

“That was probably wise,” he said, heading to the gatehouse. “They did the right thing. But I am vastly curious as to who would be marching to Spelthorne bearing Henry’s colors. Where is Gabriel?”

“Rousing the troop house,” Colton said. “Shall we sound the horn? I did not want to do it on the chance that you were aware that we were to be visited by a crown ally and had neglected to tell us.”

The horn was the alarm. They ran practice drills on that horn, every man to his post, and Lucien nodded his head swiftly. “I know of no ally that should approach my fortress today,” he said firmly. “Sound the horn. Get the men moving in case this is to be something very bad.”

Colton was off. Lucien wasn’t feeling any great anxiety but he was curious. Who would be marching an army to Spelthorne? He could only think of one man – du Ponte possibly – but the only fallacy in that theory was that he would not be flying Henry’s banners. So the question remained –
who
was it?

Truth be told, Lucien was feeling some excitement. It had been so long since he’d faced a hint of a battle that it was all he could do to keep the smile from his face. He was secretly hoping that he was about to be attacked.

The heart of The Iron Knight began to beat again.

Somewhere around the side of the hall, back towards the troop house, a horn sounded. It was a clear, loud peal that roused all of Spelthorne to its sorrowful cry. To Lucien, it was like the voice of God. It brought confidence and power to his weary body, feeding his soul. Old knights never retired, no matter how much they said they did or how much they should. Feeling the familiar scent of battle in the air was all they needed to feel young and powerful again.

Ready to go to war.

The gatehouse of Spelthorne was only two stories and the height of the wall. It was comprised of two towers that each housed a tightly spiraled staircase that led from the bailey to the wall walk. It did, however, have a double-portcullis to trap an invading army. Lucien reached the gatehouse and mounted the northern stairwell, making it up to the wall so that he could see for himself the incoming threat.

As the sun began to rise in the east, turning the sky shades of deep purple, Lucien could, indeed, see a black tide on the western horizon on the road that led to Spelthorne. He couldn’t see much more than that because of the darkness but he could see the pinpricks of light that the incoming army was carrying.
Torches.
The moon had set and since they were moving in the darkness, they needed the torches to see. That meant they were determined to come. As he stood there and watched, still not particularly concerned, he noticed a few of the sentries standing around him, watching, too.

“They are flying Henry’s banners, my lord,” one older soldier said to him. The man had been with Lucien for several years. “They’ve not sent us a messenger to announce their approach.”

Lucien grunted. “Why would they?’ he said. “They know we can see them. But if they were going to attack us, the element of surprise is gone.”

The old soldier’s gaze lingered on the army in the distance. “So is their sanity,” he muttered, turning away. “Who would attack the stronghold of The Iron Knight?”

Lucien kept his focus on the incoming army, but inside, he was swelling with pride and anticipation. He was the warrior who had endured almost all of Henry’s rebellions without a scratch. He had fought every fight, manned every battle, and he had mostly come through unscathed. Some said that God Himself protected him, but God had been sleeping the day of Bramham when the arrow had found its mark. Still, the old soldier’s words meant something to Lucien. There was an army coming, evidently led by a madman.

Lucien would meet them head-on.

He left the wall with the intention of heading back to the keep to don his armor and whatever weapons he could still find. Halfway across the bailey, now lit under a dusky-blue sky, he ran in to Laurent and Holderness, having just come from their lodgings in the knight’s quarters. While Holderness simply looked unhappy, Laurent was alert and interested.

“What is happening, my lord?” Laurent asked Lucien. “We heard the alarm.”

Lucien nodded. “An incoming army,” he said. “I would suggest you stay to the hall for now until I can discover their purpose. No sense in putting yourselves in danger.”

Holderness frowned. “An attack?” he asked. “We are facing an attack?”

Laurent immediately turned to his father. He knew that Lucien would have no patience for his foolery this day. “Papa, retreat to the hall,” he said, his patience limited. “You do not need to be out in the midst of this. Retreat to the hall and I will come and tell you what is happening when I know.”

Holderness’ head hurt so badly that it was threatening to explode, creating a foul mood. He eyed Lucien. “Is this usual?” he asked. “Is Spelthorne often a target of surprise attacks?”

Lucien kept his temper in check although it was difficult. “We have not been attacked yet,” he said evenly. “Do as I say. Retreat to the hall.”

“May I attend you, my lord?” Laurent asked quickly. He was a warrior and didn’t want to be relegated to the hall. “Give me a command and I shall follow it.”

Lucien nodded. “Indeed,” he said. He was happy to have Laurent’s service. “Go to the wall. Gabriel should be there by now. If he is not, I want your eyes up on that wall. Watch the incoming army. I will want a report as soon as I finish dressing.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Laurent dashed for the wall and Lucien headed for the keep, leaving Holderness standing in the middle of the bailey, feeing abandoned. Frustrated, he threw up his hands and headed for the hall as he’d been instructed. Maybe there was good drink there, even at this time in the morning.

All around Spelthorne, men were dashing about to their posts, but inside the keep, the women were awake and watching the activity from their windows. The horn, which had been on Juno and Aricia’s side of the building, woke them up immediately and, sleepy-eyed, they stood at the window, watching the activity below. They could see men running about but they had no sense of panic. In fact, Juno, in early pregnancy, wasn’t feeling well so she crawled back into bed while Aricia stood at the window and watched the happenings. It was most curious.

In Sophina and Emmaline’s chamber, only Sophina was standing at the window, watching the activity below as her lazy daughter lay in bed and snuggled with Oswald. Emmaline was a sound sleeper, like her mother, but in this case, Sophina had awoken because she suspected the sound of a horn over a military fortress wasn’t a good thing. There was a great deal of activity below and also on the wall walk, which she had a clear sighting of. Men seemed to be running about as if they had a purpose. Sophina seriously wondered what that purpose was.

“Mama?” Emmaline yawned over on the bed. “What is happening? Why did they sound that horn?”

Sophina could see the south and western side of the wall from where she was standing. She could also see a small portion of the gatehouse and even in the dim morning light, she thought she might have seen Lucien upon it, but it was difficult to tell. Puzzled, she shook her head to her daughter’s question.

“I do not know,” she said. “But I think that I should find out. You stay here. I will return.”

Emmaline didn’t argue with her. She didn’t want to leave her warm and cozy bed, so she fell back asleep as her mother pulled on the heavy robe from the day before, the one that belonged to Lucien. Securing the robe around her slender body, she slipped from the chamber and closed the door softly.

It was very dark in the keep as she made her way down the spiral stairs, trying very hard not to trip and break her neck in the darkness. The floor below seemed to have a light emitting from the chamber across from Susanna’s, whose door remained closed. Timidly, Sophina went to the door where the gentle light was streaming from, peering inside the crack of the door to see who was inside. She could hear someone banging about and it was only a second or two before Lucien came into her line of sight.

He was settling a coat of mail over his big frame, tugging at it, as he passed out of her line of sight again. Quietly, Sophina knocked.

“Lucien?” she called softly.

The door opened so swiftly that she nearly fell backwards as Lucien was suddenly standing in front of her. He smiled, seeing that he had startled her.

“What are you doing awake?” he whispered loudly. “You should still be in bed.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “With the archangel Gabriel blowing his horn at dawn?” she asked, watching him grin. “I thought Christ and his angels were about to make an appearance.”

Lucien snorted, reaching out to take her hand and pulling her into his chamber. He very quietly shut the door.

“Nay, not Christ, at least not yet,” he said, heading over to a table where there was a variety of wardrobe items on it; heavy leather gloves, a dark tunic, a belt, a few daggers, and a large broadsword in a scabbard. He picked up the tunic. “I am sorry the alarm awoke you. There is an army approaching and it was a call for my men to assume their posts. But you should not worry. The army is flying Henry’s banner so I am fairly certain they are not here to attack us, but my men are prepared all the same.”

The smile faded from her face. “That seems strange,” she said. “Why would an army be traveling here at dawn?”

He shook his head. “I suppose I shall find out,” he said, pulling the tunic over his head and straightening it on his big body. “That being said, you will stay to the keep. It is my suggestion that you go to the kitchens and have the servants bring food into the keep, for you will lock it up and bar the door until I tell you it is safe for you to open it. There are six women in this keep now and I would have all of you protected.”

Sophina nodded. He was calm and confident, and therefore she was not afraid. Moreover, she wasn’t one to scare easily. “As you wish,” she said. “Then I suppose I should go put on some decent clothing so I may conduct business outside of these walls.”

He glanced at her, looking at the robe she wore.
His
robe. He tried to steer clear of thoughts of fabric that had touched his skin and was now touching hers, because thoughts like that would get him into trouble. As much as he would like to have that kind of trouble, he simply didn’t have the time.

“I would hurry if I were you,” he said, trying to distract himself from thoughts of her flesh. “The army is less than an hour away. Do not delay.”

Sophina had her task set before her and she faced it with her customary resolve. “I will not,” she assured him. She watched him as he collected his belt and moved to put it on. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you require any help?”

For some reason, he thought those were beautiful words. It had been years since he’d heard such words, meant only for him. Caring words, as if she…
cared.
When he looked at her, she was gazing up at him with confidence and eagerness, prepared to do whatever he needed. God, he loved that. Setting the belt down, he went to her and took her face between his two big hands.

“Your presence here, at this moment, is all I require,” he said softly. “I could not sleep last night for thoughts of you and now that you are here, standing before me, I am joyful to realize that yesterday was no dream. I rescued you from a lake and somehow during the day, my attraction to you became overwhelming. You are under my skin and I do not even know how it happened, only that it did. I want to wake up to you every morning, Sophina. I want your face to be the first one I see in the morning and the last one I see at night. At this moment, having you so near me… something within me is whole again. It is alive again. I am not sure I can explain it any better than that.”

Sophina’s heart was fluttering wildly against her ribs, making it difficult to breathe. “I can hardly believe that yesterday was not a dream, either,” she said softly. “Much like you, I did not sleep very well last night.”

“Why?”

“For the same reasons you did not,” she said. “I cannot stop thinking of you and what you said last night. You said that we are not young and new, and that we understand things from a perspective of having lived and having been loved. That is true, all of it, and because it is true, I worry that we are being impetuous in our actions. We are old enough not to act on impulse. But the truth is that I do not care what common sense tells me. I care what my heart tells me, and my heart tells me that this is where I belong. With you.”

His smile broadened and he kissed her lips, sweetly. “You do,” he murmured. “You belong with me and to me.”

“But what of Lady Juno? Did you speak with her father?”

His smile faded. “I did,” he said. “He is like a dog with a meaty bone. He refused to accept that I do not want to marry his daughter but the unfortunate fact is that he is going to have to accept it when I marry you.”

Sophina sighed faintly, thinking of heartbroken Juno. “I wish there was an easier way to do this, something that would not crush Lady Juno,” she said. “She is such a kind girl, Lucien. I do not want to see her hurt.”

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