Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"I f she fell into the river, there is no knowing how far down stream she is drifted," Emyl said quietly. "You must face facts, Garren. Your wife is dead."

Garren's jaw flexed dangerously. In the great hall of Cilgarren, he stood his ground, unwilling to give in to the resignation the others had. It had been nearly four weeks since Derica's disappearance and, for as much as they had searched, they were convinced she had drowned in the river and her body would not be found. It had been a painful realization for Offa and Emyl, a devastating one for David. Their world had been a dark and dreary place as of late.

"I understand your logic," Garren said steadily. "But if nobody has been located, then there is still hope. I have seen too many incidents of alleged death in my life to be so easily convinced that death has come. Show me her body and I shall believe it."

Emyl cast his son a long look before turning away. He was too old to give in to false hopes. Fergus, however, had been listening to unrealistic expectations for the better part of a week.

"We'll go look for her, you and me," he told Garren. "Perhaps, somehow, she made it out of the water and was kidnapped by peasants. Perhaps she is being held hostage somewhere. Who knows?"

"Nonsense!" Offa snorted. "More than likely, if she made out of the water, she is in the hands of bandits who will…"

A deadly look from Garren stopped him. Fergus smoothed the situation. "There is a possibility she escaped your search," he said. "Garren is like a hound. He'll track her until he finds her."

"What if he doesn't find her?"

It was David's soft question. They all looked at him, the tall, slender man with the haunting dark eyes, knowing how smitten he had been with Derica. He had, so far, looked the most for her out of all of them. Even with her husband returned, the enormous knight with the recent battle scars, he was still feeling her loss and was inadequately hiding his feelings.

"Unless God himself has reached down and pulled her into the heavens, I will find her," Garren growled at him.

No one had the courage to say another negative word. Garren was exhausted from battle, exhausted from riding for days on end, and in no mood to be disputed. He wouldn't even wait to eat and rest, as Fergus had strongly suggested. Finally reaching Cilgarren had empowered him, renewed his resolve to find Derica alive. He was back where he had left her, and he could feel her presence as strongly as if she was standing next to him. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his wife. In a flash of armor and steel, he quit the hall.

Fergus followed him outside, as did the others. Near the kitchens, he slowed to observe the sloping hillside that abruptly disappeared into the river below. The weather had long since worn away any clues that might have told him what had happened to his wife on that fateful day. Still, he inspected the slope, walked among the wild garden, glancing down to the murky riverbed.

"She was here, we think."

Garren turned to Fergus, who was standing very close to the edge of the cliff. The man was looking sadly into the gray waters. He made his way over to the place where Fergus stood and paced around, inspecting the rim.

"Had it been raining that day?"

"It had been raining for weeks."

"So the ground was slippery."

"Verily. Which is why I am more inclined to believe that she did not throw herself into the river as much as she slipped in."

Garren took a long, slow breath, his mind working. "Damn her for standing so close. Too many times did I warn her."

"We all did. She was fearless about it, unfortunately."

Garren was quiet a moment. "The fall itself should not have killed her," he said. "My concern is that perhaps she hit her head somehow and was knocked unconscious."

"And drowned," Fergus was barely audible.

Garren couldn't refute the obvious. He turned away from the cliff, heading back towards the bailey. "It is my hope that we will find out," he said with more determination than he felt. "I intend to comb down river inch by inch until I find something that leads me to believe she is either alive or dead."

"That could take time," Fergus followed him. "If we only had more help."

Garren paused. "Your father and Offa and David have already been through this," he said. "We will use them again to search, as futile as they believe it may be. And…"

"And what?"

Garren suddenly looked thoughtful. "The nearest garrison is Pembroke. You could ride there and ask for assistance."

"Pembroke is held for the Marshal. Won't some of those who serve there know you on sight?"

"Probably."

"If they see you alive…."

Garren put up his hands, moving forward again in search of his horse. "I know, I know. All would be for waste if someone from the garrison saw me and reported back to the Marshal. But they don't know you, and I could direct their efforts through you."

"True enough," Fergus agreed. His steed was nearby and he wearily sought the animal's reins. "Very well, then. I shall ride to Pembroke for help. Perhaps a dozen men or so to cover more ground than you and I can alone. But you need to stay out of sight."

"I will."

"I shall return as quickly as I can."

Garren watched him ride out, mounting his own charger and fighting his exhaustion as he did so. He felt better knowing that aid was coming, hoping he was that much closer to finding his wife. He could only pray it would be soon enough.

*

Derica had never had so many gifts. As if the floodgates of a mythical Aladdin's Cave had suddenly burst open, she had more jewelry and belts and dresses and shoes than she knew what to do with. Keller apparently thought that the best way to ease her grief was to ply her with gifts, and he did so with exhaustive efficiency. Not a day passed that he didn't present her with something soft, shiny, or otherwise. It was becoming an endless parade.

Sian and Aneirin had more possessions than they had ever known to exist, too. Toys, food, clothing was all theirs for the squandering if they wished it. Keller had taken a particular liking to Aneirin, and she to him. Since Derica was distant, he lavished attention on the little girl instead. He wished he could lavish it on Derica, but he knew he had to be patient with her. She wasn't remotely ready for his interest, so he bided his time with the brown-haired little girl. Sian seemed more intent to be Derica's shadow, no matter how much Keller tried to interact with him.

On a morning during her second week at Pembroke, Derica awoke to a bright day and the children playing silently near her bed. They had been up for hours. Yawning, she climbed from the bed, kissed them both, and went about preparing herself for the day. She had always been one to rise and dress immediately, not to lag about lazily.

One of the severe women, whom she had yet to be able to tell apart from one another, brought her warmed rosewater to wash the sleep from her face with. She brushed her teeth with a soft reed brush and rinsed it with a breath sweetener. Pulling off her woolen night shift, she replaced it with a shift of soft lamb's wool. Over that, she donned a long sleeved linen shift of deep blue and a sleeveless surcoat of contrasting pale blue broadcloth. It was some of the less ornate clothing she owned, but highly fashionable and very comfortable.

Her dresser was overflowing with belts and jewels that Keller had given her. The severe servant encouraged her to wear something rich and gaudy to compensate for the plain dress she wore, but Derica pushed her suggestions aside and chose a simple gold cross on a golden chain that hung between her breasts. When the servant attempted to braid her hair in an elaborate style, Derica insisted on one simple braid that draped over one shoulder. Every time the woman tried to dress her up, she would dress down.

The children were ready to go outside and run about. They had been caged in the bedchamber far too long since awakening and were bouncing about like animals. With one child in each hand, Derica ascended to the hall below and was met by the majordomo of the castle, a kindly man named Sims. He ushered her to one of two heavy dining tables that lined the hall of Pembroke and quickly ordered the morning meal delivered. Within a very short time, there was more food than they could possibly eat covering the table.

Derica sipped the boiled water with a hint of rose and apples in it; she didn't like ale for breakfast, which was a common drink. It made her sleepy. She nibbled on a wedge of white tart cheese while the children gobbled gruel with honey. Her mind, for the first time in several days, didn't seem gripped by anguish this morning.

All of the agonizing grief she felt had dulled to a throbbing ache at the moment, but the tears were still close by. They were always near the surface, ready to be released at the slightest provocation. She dare not look at the silver band around her finger; it was a sure-fire trigger, yet she refused to remove it. She was sure she would never be able to.

"I see that you are eating this morning," Keller had come up behind her, silently. "A good sign, my lady."

Derica glanced up into his weathered face, realizing whatever appetite she may have had inexplicably fled. "I suppose it would not be good for me to starve myself to death."

Keller smiled timidly. "May I sit?"

"Of course."

He sat down on the bench beside her, a proper distance separating them. It had been two days since he had promised to go in search of Garren's body and Derica couldn't help but notice he'd not yet left. Every time she saw him, she wondered when he was going to go about fulfilling his vow. Even now, as he sat next to her, she realized her curiosity was turning to bitterness. Perhaps he had no intention of going, after all, and had only agreed to stop her tears.

"I was hoping to see you this morning before I left," he said.

Derica wondered if he had read her mind. "You are leaving?"

He nodded. "I have a long journey to Chepstow before me. I apologize that I did not leave right away, but there were some issues at hand that needed my attention."

She began to feel guilty that she had thought badly of him. "What issues?"

"Nothing to worry over. Local grumblings, 'tis all."

It occurred to her what local grumblings might mean. "The Welsh are planning to attack?"

He laughed softly. "Not so much as that. Besides, they could never breach Pembroke. Our position is so strategic that it would take intervention by God himself on their behalf. But they are unhappy as of late. That is normal. Their moods surge with the moon, it seems, and I find myself in the position of soothing local chieftains."

Aneirin wriggled her way onto Keller's lap, bread in hand. He squeezed the girl affectionately. Derica watched the two of them, thinking that they would all make a fine family one day and feeling torn that she wanted no part of it. She wanted the children, of course; with Mair's death, they had understandably fallen under her care. But Keller seemed more than willing to impart himself as their father and it was that thought she had such difficulty with.

Aneirin suddenly jumped up, with Sian on her tail. They ran over by the great hearth where the dogs were gathered. One mutt had a litter of puppies and the children scooped up happy armfuls of licking tongues and wagging tails. Derica watched them, wishing she could be so happy and carefree. The only time in her life she had ever felt that way was when she had been with Garren. Dear God, she missed him.

The ever-threatening tears filled her eyes and she looked away so that Keller would not see. But he caught the gesture.

"My lady, do not fret," he said quietly. "I shall return as soon as I possibly can. I promised you that I would find Sir Garren, and I shall. Have no doubt."

She wiped her eyes, struggling for control. "I have faith in you, Sir Keller."

"I am glad," he said. "Would you do me the honor, then?"

She looked at him, not sure what he meant. "For what?"

"Escort me to the door of the keep. I would like my last vision of this place as I leave to be your lovely face."

Derica surmised it was the very least she could do. Rising from the bench, she accepted Keller's arm when he offered it. As they proceeded across the hall, a distant horn sounded signaling that a rider had entered through the main gates. Neither Derica nor Keller spared the noise any heed. By the time they reached the door, Derica glanced up into the blue sky and thought it was an exceptionally lovely day. She decided to escort him down into the bailey because she felt like walking in the sunshine. By the time she and Keller were halfway down the retractable wooden staircase, she glanced up into a familiar face in the midst of the bailey. Derica stopped dead in her tracks.

"Fergus!"

Fergus thought he was seeing a ghost. But no ghost ever looked so lovely. Before he could stop himself, he leapt up the stairs and threw his arms around her. He almost fell, roughly pulling her from Keller's grip. Derica shrieked in delight, which Keller took to be a scream.

The sword came out in the blink of an eye. "To your death, fool," he snarled.

Derica caught the flash of metal. "No!" she cried. "Sir Keller, I beg you! I know him!"

Keller was far too close to slicing through Fergus' neck. He almost nicked him in his haste to stop the blade. Fergus, however, was unaware of anything other than Derica in his arms. He held her out at arm's length, his joyful gaze drinking in every feature.

"Sweet Jesus, it is you," he murmured. "Are you truly alive or am I seeing a delicious spirit, sent to assault my weary senses?"

Derica was weeping with happiness. "I am alive, truly I am."

He looked her up and down, still unbelieving. "You look real enough, I shall grant you," he said joyfully. "You look… wonderful, my lady, just wonderful. But you look so slim. The last I saw you, you had.…"

He froze, realizing he was babbling, suddenly aware that the last time he saw her she had the rounded belly of a pregnant woman. He paled as Derica caught his meaning.

"It was not meant to be, not this time," she murmured. Her grip on Fergus tightened. "But they told me of Garren. Dear God, they told me."

Fergus shook off the shock of the lost baby, trying to focus on what she was saying. "They told you of…?"

She nodded before he could finish his sentence. "Did you see for yourself? Did you see him? Is that what you have come to tell me?"

"Tell you…?" Fergus noticed the big knight in his peripheral vision; the man didn't look happy. He struggled not to say too much. "What have you been told?"

"That he is dead." Derica burst into soft sobs. "Oh, Fergus… I simply don't want to live any longer…."

She fell against him for comfort. Fergus could see the big knight turn away as she did so. He had no idea how jealous Keller was, or how hurt, watching Fergus comfort her the way he had wanted to.

She was crying as if her heart was broken into a million fragile pieces. Fergus held her gently. "Take heed, my lady," he murmured in her ear. "All will be well, have no fear."

Derica sobbed. "This damnable war," she suddenly grew angry and pulled herself from his comforting embrace. "This is all William Marshal's fault. He murdered Garren as if he had taken the sword to him personally. And to grant me titles and land in compensation for Garren's loss is… is an insult. It is worse. It is an affront to all that Garren stood for. I would rather have my husband than a bunch of dirt and a pile of cold, heartless rocks."

Fergus was hearing a good deal of overwhelming information, struggling to maintain his composure and piece the puzzle together. So the Marshal knew of Garren's death, as they'd planned. But what the old man did was unexpected if what Derica said was true. There was more going on here than Fergus, or Garren for that matter, could have anticipated.

"But the lowest blow of all is the betrothal," Derica was wiping her nose and eyes. "My feelings are in no way reflective of Sir Keller's worthiness, but I am apparently to become a pawn in William Marshal's game for some inconceivable reason. Why on earth should he…?"

Fergus cut her off then. He had to. Taking her firmly by the arm, he turned her in the direction of the keep. "Perhaps we should speak of this inside, so that all the world cannot hear us." He glanced at the big knight. "My apologies for my dramatic entrance, sir knight. I am Sir Fergus de Edwin, a friend of the lady's husband. Up until a moment ago, I believed the lady dead. You will understand my astonished reaction to her."

It didn't make any sense to Keller, but at the moment, he didn't much care. He was more concerned with Derica's emotional outburst with the blond knight and struggling with the envy it provoked. He tried to be civil.

"I am Keller de Poyer, garrison commander of Pembroke Castle," he said. "You seem to have caught us at an awkward moment, as I was just on my way to fulfill a promise to my lady."

Derica spoke before Fergus could ask. "He is going to find Garren's body, Fergus. He promised me that he would."

Fergus just looked at her, trying to conceal his reaction to two very startling points; the big knight had the same name as the man Derica had mentioned in the same breath as her betrothal. Furthermore, he wasn't at all sure what promise the knight was planning to fulfill, but Derica's statement had answered that. There were wheels in motion here that he was adamant to stop.

"That will not be necessary," Fergus said quietly.

Derica searched his eyes, her tears renewing. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"I do."

"Oh… Fergus," she began to sob again. "Where is he? I must go to him."

Fergus was pleased that he didn't have to lie to her. "I brought him back to Cilgarren."

"Sweet Jesus!" Derica gasped. "I must go there at once, do you hear? At once!"

"You shall," Fergus soothed her. "I shall return you today."

Keller let out a piercing whistle. Fergus looked over to see that he was hailing some men-at-arms in the bailey. Keller quickly issued some orders to them, his intentions obvious.

"There is no need for your escort, sir knight," Fergus said steadily. "I shall escort the lady to Cilgarren myself."

Keller cast him a long look. "Though I thank you for your offer, you will not be offended if I insist on personally escorting my betrothed."

Fergus stood his ground. "I am not offended in the least. But I assure you that I am quite trustworthy and capable of protecting my lady. There is no need to pull you from your duties here at Pembroke."

"I have no other duties as important as my lady's wishes."

Fergus didn't know what to do. Quickly, he ran all avenues in his mind and kept coming back to the same one. He had to tell them both the truth before this grew out of hand. The Marshal be damned; he could see a very bad situation rising. For Garren's sake, he had to spill the truth.

"May we speak inside, privately?"

It was a question directed at both Keller and Derica. Keller's reply was to cast him another long look before turning to lead them inside the keep. Fergus had hold of Derica as they entered the enormous structure. To the right, they entered the solar and Keller closed the doors. It was cold, like a tomb, but Keller didn't light a fire, not even for Derica. He didn't want Fergus to get too comfortable.

Fergus had been given little time to think of what he was about to say, but he knew for certain that he had to be clear. Keller de Poyer was in the more powerful position to refuse him everything. He wisely surmised that he had to plead to Derica; it was the only hope they would have of being allowed to leave Pembroke.

He therefore focused on her. Putting both hands on her arms, he physically braced her for what he was about to say.

"There is something you must know," he said softly, glancing at Keller as he spoke. "Something you both should know."

"What, Fergus?" Derica asked earnestly. "Is it something about Garren?"

Fergus nodded, somewhat ironically. "Yes, love." He could feel Keller tense as he used the affectionate term, but he paid it no heed. He focused deeply into Derica's eyes. "I want you to listen to me and understand every word I say."

"Of course, Fergus."

"What were you told of Garren's death?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. "Simply that he gave his life in the service of the king."

"Nothing else?"

"No," she shook her head, sudden fear in her eyes. "Why? Did something awful happen to him?"

Before Fergus could answer, Keller spoke. "Don't frighten her, de Edwin," he growled. "There are things she does not need to hear."

"I realize that," Fergus said patiently. "I would not dream of frightening or horrifying her. But I must tell you both the truth."

"Truth of what?" Derica insisted.

Fergus chose his words carefully. He pulled Derica to sit in the nearest chair, kneeling before her, his hands holding hers.

"The Marshal was mistaken, love," he said quietly, steadily. "Garren is at Cilgarren Castle. He is very much alive and in excellent health. He has come home to you."

Slowly, Derica's eyes widened. Then they widened more. It seemed to be the only reaction she was capable of. Suddenly, she bolted out of the chair, screaming at the top of her lungs. It startled Keller. Fergus had hold of her hands; otherwise, she would have surely bolted away.

"He is alive?" she cried.

"The ibis has returned. The alligators could not keep him from you, no matter what you have been told."

"The ibis… my God, the ibis!" The old reference sang in her ears once again. "Fergus, take me to him now!"

She was like a wild horse as he tried to keep hold of her. "I will, love, I will. We'll go this instant."

"Alive?" Keller repeated, both confused and stunned. "I don't understand. How could the Marshal have been mistaken?"

Fergus thought to lie at this point, if only to gain Garren and Derica sometime before word reached the Marshal and the man sent his troops after them.

"Garren sustained a flesh wound during the battle of Lincoln," he said. "Whilst having the wound tended, someone stole his armor. We never did find it. It is quite possible that the thief was killed in battle and mistaken for Garren."

Clearly, Keller was shocked. Fergus couldn't tell if he believed him or not. But the more pressing issue was Derica as she continued to shriek. She was pulling him out of the room, insisting that they would leave this very second for Cilgarren. Her face was a mixture of madness and euphoria. But Keller was firmly in the way.

"I don't understand any of this," he persisted, more strongly. "How did you know to find the lady here? Did the Marshal tell Sir Garren she would be with me?"

"Nay," Fergus was being yanked from the solar. "The lady went missing weeks ago. Even now, her husband and others are searching for her. 'Twas Sir Garren who asked me to ride to Pembroke and ask for assistance in our search for her. But, as I discovered, you had already found her."

"Missing?" Keller looked at Derica. "I found her wandering on a road not far from here. She would not tell me what she was doing there."

Through the chaos of Derica's mind, she understood the crux of the conversation. For the moment, it diverted her thoughts of a living Garren. "I fell into the river and nearly killed myself in the process. A peasant woman and her children found me and nursed me back to health. That is why Sir Keller found me wandering on the road." She looked stricken. "The children! Keller, get the children, please!"

Keller started to move, as was natural when doing her bidding, but he just as quickly stopped himself.

"Wait," his voice had returned to a growl. "No one is going anywhere at the moment. Not to Cilgarren, or to heaven or hell until I have satisfactory answers. How do I know this isn't some ploy to abduct my lady? I don't know you, de Edwin. You could be a murderer and thief for all I know."

"But I know him," Derica countered. "I know him well, and he has risked his life for me on many occasions. I have faith in him completely and you will do me the courtesy of trusting my judgment."

Keller was torn, that much was obvious. "You are my betrothed, my lady, and my responsibility until God himself deems otherwise."

"My husband is alive, Sir Keller," she whispered urgently. "God has spoken, can you not understand? He had returned him to me. I am no longer your concern."

Keller's confusion in the entire situation was quickly being overtaken by fury and disappointment. He could hardly believe the devastation he felt. "Not until I see Sir Garren myself," he said quietly, "will I relinquish you."

"Then come and see him," Derica growled. "And bring the children."

Derica matched his stony demeanor; Fergus knew she was determined enough to kill should Keller try to stand in her way. Perhaps the knight sensed that, for he did not stand in her path. He simply stared at her, matching her gaze, feeling emotions he had no right to feel. After what seemed like a small eternity, Derica tore her eyes from Keller and quit the solar, taking Fergus with her. Keller dutifully went in search of children he instinctively knew he was about to lose.

Sian and Aneirin each held a hand when Keller finally returned to the bailey. The children were dressed against the chill, their eyes wide at the commotion of the courtyard. The two severe women had accompanied them, bringing a heavy wrap for Derica. She was already mounted on a small gray palfrey and they fussed over her, making sure she stayed bundled against the cold. Derica took Sian on the horse with her and Keller took Aneirin.

Keller tried not to think about what was happening as he adjusted his reins around the little girl and glanced up at the sky. It looked like it would rain. He wouldn't look at Derica, and she had no interest in looking at him. She never had. She had been kind, as much as she could, but he knew she had never truly been his, betrothal or no. He felt cheated by Garren's appearance, if it was true. He couldn't help wonder if he was riding in to some sort of trap set up by de Edwin and made sure to arm the dozen soldiers accompanying them. A couple of knights were also suited up for the ride. He didn't want to take any chances.

Fergus, for his part, was immensely curious about the two brown-eyed children that Derica seemed to have inherited. They were adorable children, to be sure, but he couldn't help thinking what Garren would say to all of this. He caught her attention.

"Am I to understand that these are the peasant children you mentioned earlier?"

Derica nodded. "Aye. Their mother pulled me from the river and took care of me until I regained my strength. She was accidentally killed. The least I can do is care for her children, and gladly so."

Fergus looked at the little boy, who was now staring at him. "I see," he smiled at the boy. Sian responded by sticking a finger in his nose. "Charming."

Derica loved the children but didn't want to talk about them at the moment. "How is he really, Fergus? Garren, I mean."

"He is very well," Fergus' thoughts were diverted from the children, thinking of Garren and the trouble they would all be in soon. "He is thought of nothing but you, so much so that he has risked all to come home to you."

"What does that mean?"

Fergus didn't want to alarm her. "Nothing," he assured her, sorry he had to lie to her. "Suffice it to say that his joy in seeing that you are alive will eclipse the sun."

Derica smiled at him. "I can still hardly believe. Tell me again, Fergus. Swear it to me."

"I swear to you on my oath as a knight that Garren is alive and well."

Her smiled broadened, her eyes closing briefly as if to dream him yet again. "And you have come to bring me to him again, just as you did those months ago."

"'Twould seem to be my calling in life, to unite the two of you."

Derica didn't want to wait any longer to see her husband and Keller was dragging his heels. She spurred the palfrey toward the gate.

"If we hurry, we can be to Cilgarren in a few hours, don't you think?" she asked.

Fergus moved after her. "Two hours at the most."

Keller had been talking to one of his knights, waiting for the two Welsh crossbowmen he had requested to join the party. When he saw Derica and Fergus already moving towards the gate, he spurred his charger in their direction.

"Hold," he commanded.

Fergus didn't listen; he waited for Derica to respond. She did so by simply turning her head, not stopping her horse.

"Why?" she asked innocently.

Keller was beside her on his red-and-cream beast. "Another moment and the escort party shall be complete. If You will simply wait, we shall…."

"I do not want to wait," Derica told him. "I have waited long enough. I am riding to Cilgarren Castle at this very moment. You may ride with me or not. It makes no difference to me, but if you choose not to, then give me Aneirin so that I may take her."

Keller's expression darkened. He made a surprising move by reaching out and grasping her horse's reins, effectively stopping the animal.

"You're not going anywhere until our escort is complete," he rumbled. "I am assembling my men to protect you and you will do me the courtesy of complying."

Derica's voice was like ice. "You do not want me to go to Cilgarren; that much is clear. Any more attempts to delay me and you shall suffer Garren's wrath in this. Be assured that I will tell him of your reluctance to return me to him."

It threatened to grow ugly. They had come too far to have it turn bad at this moment and possibly cause Keller to forbid either of them to leave Pembroke.

"My lady," Fergus said quietly. "Sir Keller is merely trying to protect you. Your statement was harsh."

Derica had a moment of doubt that what Fergus said was true. Her remorse grew. "I apologize, Keller," she murmured. "I am not quite myself at the moment. My desire to see my husband seems to be taking over all of my senses until I cannot think clearly."

Keller forgave her, of course. "As I told you before, were you married to me, I should expect the same devotion. I can only admire your determination." He glanced over his shoulder at the assembled escort party. "It seems we are complete, after all. By your command, my lady, we shall depart."

He let go of the reins and Derica's little horse danced forward. Sian thought it was great fun and giggled as the horse shook him about. Derica's heart was soaring, her joy in seeing Garren too delirious for words. Two hours seemed like an eternity to wait, but wait she would have to. As they neared the great gates of Pembroke, a familiar figure caught Derica's attention. A small, cloaked wisp of a figure was walking towards her, the face pale and the blue eyes red-rimmed. Derica nearly fell off her horse when she realized she was looking at her maid.

"Aglette," she hissed. "Dear God… Aglette!"

She slid from the palfrey, careful not to take Sian with her. The women fell into each other's arms, the red-haired maid sobbing pitifully. Derica was seized with fear, with surprise, and shook the woman gently.

"What is it?" she demanded. "Why are you here? How did you know…?"

"Your father," Aglette sputtered. "He and his army lie beyond the gates. They sent me in to tell you…."

Her weeping cut her short and Derica was filled with terror. She shook Aglette hard enough to snap her neck. "What are you to tell me?"

The maid struggled to control herself. "That the garrison commander is to turn you over to the army of the Earl of Norfolk, 'else they will raze Pembroke and kill all who stand in their way."

Derica knew her face went pale. She looked at Fergus. "No," she breathed. "Not here, not now. How did they find me?"

Fergus' face was grim. He dismounted his charger and focused on the hysterical maid. "How many men did de Rosa bring?"

Aglette shook her head. "I do not know exactly, my lord. We stopped to pick up more men at Hereford Castle. I heard one of the men say that the total army was about one thousand fools and men."

It was a massive army. Fergus looked at Keller; he would give the man credit, for he held no discernible expression even though his castle was grievously threatened. It took Keller a moment to realize everyone was looking at him, expecting some manner of response. His first response was to look at Derica.

"Your father is the Earl of Norfolk?" he asked, quite calmly.

She shook her head. "He serves Norfolk. He is garrison commander of Framlingham Castle."

"Framlingham?" Keller almost looked amused. "The Marshal neglected to mention that."

Derica knew that she should explain; the man was at risk for reasons he knew nothing of. "My father is loyal to Prince John and Garren is loyal to Richard. We ran off and were married against my father's wishes."

"I see," Keller said. "That being the case, your father has come to retrieve you. However, the better question would be, how did he know you were here?"

"I do not know."

"Nor do I," Keller didn't seem overly concerned. "Spies abound, my lady. Even now, I am sure that Pembroke is littered with them."

Derica couldn't tell what he was thinking. "What do you plan to do?"

Keller sighed heavily, dismounting his charger. There was much on his mind; that was evident.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I will speak with my father. But I want you to help Fergus escape to Cilgarren to warn Garren."

"And hold off the horde to buy him enough time?"

To hear Keller say it made it sound as if she was asking the world of him. And he was getting absolutely nothing in return. Fear crept into her veins.

"I know it is an enormous request, Keller, but I would be eternally grateful to you if you would…." she trailed off, feeling stupid and desperate at the same time. "There is no way I can repay you and nothing I can promise you in return other than my undying gratitude. But if you would do this for me, I swear that I would repay the favor if ever I were able. So would Garren."

He smiled at her, ironically. "What I would have from you, you could not repay. I know Sir Garren certainly wouldn't." He didn't look the least bit distressed as he lifted his helm, propping it up on his forehead as if that made it easier for him to think. "Let me assure you that your father cannot destroy Pembroke, no matter how he believes otherwise. I invite him to try. But getting you out of here is another matter altogether."

Derica felt a tremendous amount of relief and fear, one after the other. "Then you will help me?"

Keller looked at her, feeling himself weaken as he stared into the green eyes. "I believe we should think about this for a moment and come up with a plan," he said. "But the first order of business is to close the gates and arm my men. I have a feeling this is going to be a long day."

Derica felt more relief than she could express. She put her hand on Keller's arm. "Thank you, Keller," she whispered. "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you."

Keller couldn't decide whether he felt noble or like a fool.