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Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

St. Idloes

E olande was in shock. "You've what ?" she gasped. "Davies, what did you do?"

Davies was quite calm as he faced his sister. "I told you," he said. "I killed the Duke of Shrewsbury."

It was beneath surprisingly sunny skies that the siblings faced one another, out in the same muddy area behind the chapel where male visitors were allowed. Eolande had been summoned that morning by one of the nuns who worked in the kitchen because Davies was standing at the old iron gate that led to the cloister, shouting for his sister.

Now she stood, wrapped up in a woolen shawl, facing her impatient brother and horrified with what she was hearing. She could hardly grasp it.

"So, you went to Shrewsbury, after all," Eolande said. "You said you wanted to see the man who married Grier, but you also spoke of challenging the marriage. Is that what you did? Is that how you killed him?"

Davies shook his head. "I did not challenge the marriage," he said. Then, he thrust up his chin in defiance. "We went to raid the market at Shrewsbury and when the duke rode from the castle to protect his town, we killed him. It is as simple as that."

Eolande's mouth popped open in shock, in outrage. " Simple ?" she hissed. "You have murdered a man. And how do you know it was the duke? What certainty do you have?"

Davies would not let his sister stick holes in his victory. He was proud of it. "He rode from the castle, surrounded by his men," he said. "He rode a fine horse and wore fine armor, and he was protected by a small army. Of course it was him. Who else would it be?"

Eolande couldn't believe he was so blind. "It could have been another Saesneg knight," she pointed out. "They all come from wealthy homes. They all have fine horses, Davies."

"But they are not all protected by soldiers," Davies insisted before she'd even finished. "He was with many soldiers and we killed him, and I am not sorry for it. I am not sorry for the death of any Saesneg ."

He sounded so cold and Eolande shook her head. "You are not sorry for the death of the man who married Grier," she muttered, not surprised when he didn't deny it. "That is why you did this. All of your talk about our people starving and stealing from the Saesneg because we need to eat was only an excuse. You meant to kill Grier's husband all along."

Davies considered her words, thinking it made him sound like a calculating murderer, but he didn't care. He was not ashamed of his actions and, quite truthfully, she was right.

It had been his plan all along.

"I am going to Shrewsbury tomorrow," he said, avoiding addressing her accusation. "I am returning to pay a visit to Grier."

Eolande gasped. "What?" she said. "So soon?"

"Of course," he said. "And I want you to come with me."

"But why? I have no need to go to Shrewsbury. My home is here."

Davies reached out to take her cold hand. "You are dying here," he said simply. "You are nothing but bones, Eolande. They do not feed you. You have no future. Would you truly waste your life this way, like this?"

Eolande was upset by his words. Now, the focus was shifting to her and she didn't like it. "Papa sent me here for an education," she said. "It has become my home."

"And it has served its purpose," Davies stressed. "You have had your education and, now, you are slowly withering away. Come with me, Eolande. Come with me to Shrewsbury to see Grier and pay respects to her dead husband. Be present when I marry her."

Eolande was appalled. "Don't they know it was you who killed him?" she asked. "And you think to simply walk into Shrewsbury and marry Grier? You are mad!"

But Davies shook his head. "They do not know it was me," he said. "How could they? There were fifty of us. They cannot know that I was part of the raiding party."

"Then how will you explain knowing the duke was killed if you were not in the raiding party?"

That brought him pause. "I will simply say that I have heard," he said, thinking it sounded rather weak but he wasn't going to back down now. "News travels along the Marches. Do they truly think a raid, and the death of a duke, would not travel among the villages and towns nearby? Of course it would."

Eolande took a deep breath, shaking her head. "But you cannot be certain," she said. "I think what you are doing is dangerous. I fear for you."

There was the tender side of his sister, the one that made him love her so. Eolande was, if nothing else, caring and compassionate. He could see the fear in her expression.

"Do not fear for me," he said. "Be happy for me. I shall marry Grier, and you can live with us and have warmth and comfort, and all of the food you could ever want. Please, Eolande– will you not come with me?"

The way he made it sound, it was going to be difficult for Eolande to resist. Davies had all the answers, and the truth was that she was lonely since Grier left. She hated being cold and she hated being hungry but, unlike Grier, she'd never had a future waiting for her. She wasn't an heiress, and she had three brothers who would inherit the lordship of Godor. Unless she had a marriage offer, which there was no chance of at a convent, then Davies was correct– she would die here.

She didn't want to die here.

"But… but I cannot simply leave," she said after a moment.

"What is keeping you here?" he asked.

"Papa's honor," she pointed out. "He gave me over to St. Idloes for an education and, in return, I am expected to work for it. I was never to be a nun, Davies. You know that. At least, that was not the intention at the first, but now… this is all that I know. It is my home."

Davies grasped her with both hands. "But I will provide you with a better place," he insisted. "What is better than Shrewsbury Castle? You can live with Grier, and with me, and we shall be happy there."

It sounded like a wonderful life and Eolande could feel herself being swayed. To live with Grier all the rest of her life and, perhaps, even find a husband? There was nothing bad about the proposal that she could see except for the fact that her brother had just murdered the duke. If she accepted his invitation to live at Shrewsbury, somehow, she felt that would make her an accomplice in the man's death or, at the very least, signify her approval with it.

Turning, she glanced at St. Idloes behind her; the steeply pitched chapel roof, the cloister, the garden that hadn't produced anything for two years. Did she really want to remain here and starve when she could go to Shrewsbury with her brother and live in comfort?

It was not a difficult question.

She was tired of being cold and hungry.

"Davies," she said. "Your offer is generous, but you must know that I do not approve of what you've done. You killed a man who had done nothing to you other than marry the woman you wanted."

Davies lifted a dark eyebrow. "He is a Saesneg ," he hissed at her. "How many of our cymry have they killed? None of them are innocent."

"Yet you want to marry one."

That stopped his rant and averted his gaze. "I do not see her that way," he said quietly. "She was in Wales when I first met her. I suppose… I suppose I have always considered her one of us."

"But she is not."

"She will be," he snapped, looking at her. "She will marry me and our children will be Welsh. There is no one to deny me now– no father, no duke, and no king. I shall marry her before Henry realizes what I have done and, by then, it will be too late. I will be Grier's husband and the Duke of Shrewsbury."

No matter what Eolande said, Davies would do as he wished. She had known from the beginning that his obsession was mostly with Grier. Shrewsbury had been secondary, but it was quite a prize and Davies knew it. There was nothing Eolande could say that would dissuade him from his goal, from going to Shrewsbury and claiming Grier.

Ironic , Eolande thought. Davies was perfectly willing to forget about Grier as long as she remained at St. Idloes as a nun, but the moment another man claimed her, Davies could not let it rest. If anyone was going to have Grier other than St. Idloes, then it would be him.

Now, the new Duke of Shrewsbury was dead because Davies couldn't let any man have Grier de Lara. Perhaps it was best that Eolande go with him into Shrewsbury, if only to keep him from doing anything too foolish. Having him go off alone seemed far too risky.

Her decision was made.

"When do you wish to leave?" she asked, sounding defeated.

Davies realized she was agreeing to go with him. "I told you that I want to be in Shrewsbury tomorrow," he said. "Leave with me now. Go collect your possessions. I will wait for you."

Eolande was hesitant. "I should like to say farewell. There are some that I shall miss."

Davies shook his head to that. "If you speak to anyone, they will make you stay. They will probably lock you in a room and keep you there. It is best if you do not tell anyone, Eolande. Promise me."

Eolande didn't like the idea, but she couldn't disagree with him. Mother Mary Moria could very well force her to remain, and if Eolande had to choose between the Mother Abbess and Grier, then she would choose Grier.

She wanted to see her friend.

Before the day had reached noon, Eolande joined her brother along the road to Welshpool, where his men were waiting. They were privy to Davies' plans also, and they were prepared when Davies and Eolande joined them. It was then that Eolande realized that her brother intended to enter Shrewsbury with his teulu , and have those men present with him at all times.

It was with a heavy heart that she understood her brother's intentions and she sincerely doubted that any of this was a good idea. But Davies seemed convinced that the duke was dead and there were no barriers between him and claiming Grier. He seemed convinced that he could enter Shrewsbury Castle and Grier would, perhaps, even welcome him. But only a day after the death of the duke and the raid on Shrewsbury, even Eolande could see that it was a foolish idea.

But Davies was blind to all else but Grier, so consumed for his want for her that he was jeopardizing his safety because of it, and Eolande knew it would be his undoing. Although she had never wielded a blade in her life, she was from a family of warriors. If she had to protect her brother by drawing a weapon, then so be it.

But damn the careless man for driving her to it.

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