Wildewood Revenge (35 page)

He found Guy ensconced in his chamber, fire blazing,
his
trusted cohorts Percy and Simon at his side. Both had been wounded by Miles and attended by the surgeon at considerable expense to himself. He found them in a delicate state having imbibed rather too much of his wine along with the opium and he was furious with all three. What a pathetic display, Miles had taken all three of them and still managed to save the girl and find the treasure. His admiration of the deeds vied with his dislike of the man and almost outweighed his contempt for these so called knights.

“Get out,” he bellowed at the two hangers-on as he hauled them out of the door by their collars. He called to the men at arms. “Take these misfits to cool off in the barracks I will not have them in my home.”

He turned then to Guy who gazed at him with bleary eyes.

“What news, Gerard, have you captured our errant knight?” He grinned and raised his glass.

“Forget Miles, I am more interested in your little hobby, Guy.”

Guy shrugged and blinked so slowly Gerard thought he had fallen asleep. He caught him by the front of his shirt and shook him violently; Guy startled out of his stupor, snapped to attention.

“Tell me about the armour, Guy?”

“The armour?”

“Yes, the armour stashed at Kirk
Knowe
, you ignorant toad. What have you done? And don’t lie to me, Guy, or I’ll snap your neck here
and now.”

Guy smirked.
“Just a collection, Gerard.
Did you never collect things?”

“Yes, I collected bird’s eggs as a child. It was something I grew out of when I became a man. Are you not yet a man, Guy?”

“Of course I’m a man,” grinned Guy. “And I have developed a man’s hobby. It’s good to have a hobby, Gerard, it expands the mind.”

“I will be more than happy to expand your mind, Guy, with a sweep of my sword, unless you tell me what is afoot. The English armour, how did you acquire it?”

“From the battle-field, Gerard, where else?”

“And the owners, were they fallen knights or pushed knights?”

Guy laughed, “I like that, Gerard—did they fall or were they pushed— how droll. Well I’ll tell you, Gerard, just between you and
I
.” He leaned forward conspiratorially and almost fell from his seat. “Some were fallen, but most just got in my way.”

“But they were on our side, Guy, why would you take out your own men?”

“Not my men, Gerard, the king’s men. And who are you to criticise, do you not plan to take out your own brother?”

“My dispute with Miles does not come in to this. On what basis did you take these knights?”

“Why, Gerard, where did you think your treasure came from? Do you think I merely asked and they happily gave what they had? Now that would have been altogether too easy. No, Gerard, I believe it was what you may call a mutual agreement. You got the treasure which you so crave while I got the pleasure of taking it and when the gallant knight was no more, I also got his armour to add to my collection.”

Gerard stared at him in disbelief. “You murdered all of those men in cold blood and kept their armour as some kind of sick trophy?”

“Why not?
I did think about keeping their heads, but after a while they do have a rare pungency. I couldn’t have the ladies thinking it was me.”

Gerard stepped back stunned by the depravity of the man, and then as his head cleared, and his thoughts became more focused he was equally stunned by the stupidity and arrogance of the man.

“Are you mad? Every trophy you have taken ties you to a murder which in turn ties you to the theft of the king’s treasure.”

Guy narrowed his eyes.  “I think not, Gerard, for where does all of this evidence lie?”

“Kirk
Knowe
.”

“And who does Kirk
Knowe
belong to?”

Gerard flew at him then. “You son of a shrivelled toad, I’ll kill you.” He back handed him across the face and Guy’s lip burst in a spray of blood.

Gerard shook with fury. How had he allowed this to happen? He had been well and truly outmanoeuvred and as a consequence he stood to lose everything. His heart pounded in his chest but with considerable effort he managed to control himself. He may need Guy alive yet.

Miles and his woman were locked in Kirk
Knowe
. They had seen everything, the treasure and the trophies. It was now even more imperative they did not get to the king. There was no alternative. They would have to be killed. Who else knew? He cast about wildly, the men at arms had been in there, Guy’s men no doubt knew all about it. Perhaps he was the only one who did not. He spun around and delivered a crunching blow to Guy’s grinning face dispelling the grin along with
his consciousness. Gerard strode from the chamber and slammed the door behind him.

Things were beginning to unravel again at an alarming rate. He would have to move the treasure and get rid of the armour. But he had two days and Miles was going nowhere. Tonight he would lie with his boring biddable wife and tomorrow he would rewrite his future.

*  *  *

Word reached Gerard the following day, that tree felling was being undertaken in the forest at
Wildewood
and the Scot’s were somehow involved. It concerned Gerard that his trees were being taken without his permission, it mattered naught to him that Miles considered
Wildewood
and its timber to be his.
Wildewood
would never be his. Of more interest however, was the news that Alex Stewart’s right hand man, Angus Baird had been spotted with the Scottish outlaws.

Today would be a good day, mused Gerard as he set off for
Wildewood
with a dozen men at arms. Guy was under house arrest, Miles and his whore under armed guard at Kirk
Knowe
, the king safe in his ignorance at
Alnwick
and Alex Stewart was now within grasp. What more could he ask?

Chapter Thirty Six

The Foresters had felled six large trees in response to John’s request for long straight timbers and their Scots minders assisted in the trimming of the ancillary branches. The giant logs were chained one at a time to the two heavy horses who dragged them back to
Wildewood
. It was not safe to linger in the wood to cut the beams, so the work was done within the safety of
Wildewood’s
walls.

It took time however for the logs to be hauled and the horses to return for the next load and all of the men were jumpy. The return of Angus Baird however, lifted the spirits of his men and they rested together while they awaited the return of the horses. Jack Forester returned to
Wildewood
with the penultimate load so he could begin work on the timber immediately. He left his son Robert to bring back the last log. They had worked hard, as had the Scots, but for Jack and his son there was a sense of pride in being a part of the rebuilding of
Wildewood
. Under John’s guidance they hoped to create something that would last for many generations.

The horses were weary and reluctant to head out for yet another haul. It took some effort on Robert’s part to get them out of the courtyard and into the park. Miles, keen for some fresh air after his less than fragrant discussion with Mayflower, mounted his own horse and joined Robert for the final journey. Robert allowed the horses to idle back to the forest knowing they would naturally quicken their pace on the homeward journey with the lure of fresh hay and a bucket of oats. Miles rode alongside keeping watch, but his mind was on other things.
Treasure and revenge.

The two lumbering giants alerted Robert initially to the notion
something was amiss. It began with the flicking of their ears and gentle snorting through velvet flaring nostrils. Robert halted their progress and reassured the beasts with gentle words. Miles raised his hand to silence him and they paused under the shelter of the trees, harness jingling gently as the horses fidgeted. Miles strained his ears as he listened acutely; and then far in the distance he heard the sound of approaching horses, many of them, travelling at speed. He gestured to Robert to remain where he was and set off at a pace towards the felling ground. If he were not mistaken, the Scots were about to be ambushed.

The Scots were taken by surprise, much to their chagrin. Heavily outnumbered they scattered into the trees to avoid a one-sided fight. Determined not to be deprived of his prize, Gerard set his men to root out those they could find. The soldiers pushed their horses far faster than was safe within the confines of the forest and the noise of the squealing frightened horses and the yelling of men as they bullied the beasts rang horribly through the woods.

Angus avoided the stampeding horses with the ease of a man who lived a life in the shadows. He called to his men using the language of the forest; the call of the fox and the screech of the hawk, sounds that could only be recognised, by those who knew how to listen. It was inevitable however there would be an altercation. The Scots, who were masters at guerrilla warfare, did so love a fight.

Miles arrived at the logging area to find a furious and bloody skirmish raging. Despite being outnumbered two to one, the Scots were letting rip with short swords and axes and some of the men at arms had already fallen, hacked to death. He yanked his horse to a sudden standstill, drew his own sword, and quickly assessed the situation.

As he’d surmised, they were Gerard’s men and no matter how
skilled the Scots were, they could not hope to win such an uneven fight. He noticed Gerard then, calmly observing the skirmish, looking for someone in particular. Miles cast his gaze across the fighting men, looking in the direction that so interested Gerard. At first he saw nothing but the clash of swords, the heaving of bodies and the spray of blood. Then he caught sight of Angus squaring up to one of Gerard’s men. Glancing quickly back at Gerard he realised Angus was Gerard’s target.  He could not allow Alex’s right hand man to be taken.

Miles had neither armour nor helmet to protect him, but he did have his padded leather jerkin and a sword that had served him well so far. He thought of Grace, of their plan and how it could all go awry if he were to fall here in the wood, but could not turn his back on the man who delivered Mayflower into his palm. He kicked his horse and charged through the melee, hacking wildly with his sword at anyone who came between him and Angus.

The blow that unseated him and sealed his fate was in fact meant for another.

*  *  *

It was only later when those not killed outright were bound and tethered to their horses for the return journey to
Ahlborett
, that Gerard realised not only had he managed to capture Angus Baird, but the bloodied and unconscious scoundrel at his feet was none other than his nemesis, Miles of
Wildewood
.

Gerard shook his head, baffled. How had the man managed to escape from Kirk
Knowe
? He had left him under armed guard. No matter, he had fallen into his lap now and he would certainly find it a challenge
indeed to escape from the dungeons of
Ahlborett
.

*  *  *

Robert delivered the terrible news back to
Wildewood
, but it was John who took Grace to one side to explain how Miles had been taken. Grace found herself strangely numb. This man who she’d known for so short a time had influenced her life greatly and she was bereft at the thought he was now gone from her. She paced the room pale faced, hands twisting together as she fought to keep control of the panic rising inside her.

“Was he alive?” she whispered.

“Robert saw him felled from his horse and taken away. Sir Gerard would not have taken him if he were dead.”

“So, he is alive and at the castle?”

“It would seem so, my lady.”

“Then we must rescue him.”

“How?
The castle is heavily manned and the dungeons will be guarded further.”

She shrugged at him. “I don’t know, John, but we have to try.” She fought back fearful tears. “Ask everyone to gather in the great hall, have Martha cook for us all and we will decide what to do.”

Three young Scottish warrior’s had fallen in the wood and their bodies were brought back to
Wildewood
by the Foresters’, carried reverently on the backs of the giant horses and laid temporarily to rest in the walled garden, awaiting  retrieval by their kinsman. Mayflower surprised those who had gathered to pay their respects, by leading a prayer and Grace thanked the man with a weary smile.

The mood when the household gathered was sombre. Without Miles they were adrift and anxious, fearful the fight would be brought to
Wildewood
. They had all volunteered to defend
Wildewood
when they believed they would be led by Miles, the brave knight who fought alongside the king. There was no one to lead them now and they cast furtive glances at each other. No one wanted to say out loud, what was being thought by all.