Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

"…. My entire life had been mapped, carefully controlled. I was infallible, omnipotent, the Fear of all. I believed myself beyond defeat. That would soon be put to the test as my angel was pulled into the bowels of Hell… the gates opened and I leapt wholeheartedly into the maelstrom to save her…."

The Chronicles of Sir Sean de Lara

1206 – 1215 A.D.

T here was a corporeal sense of anxiety in the air of the halls near the Flint Tower. Everything in the St. James apartment was packed and ready to go less than two hours after the command to move out came down. Jocelin himself had given the order to the St. James men, who immediately started packing their gear and summoning the horses. Neely had faithfully joined his troops for the detail although he was still muddled by the alcohol that flowed through his veins.

Inside the apartment, the little maid had summoned the help of a few household servants to help pack her mistresses' items, which they had done so with efficiency. Capcases and trunks were stacked neatly in the antechamber. The women were ready to go before the army was.

Unable to sleep through the commotion and excitement, Alys had also helped pack with her one good arm. Sheridan had slept like the dead through all of it. Even now, when everything was bundled and being taken from the Flint Tower down to the waiting wagons, Sheridan was unable to awaken. The medicaments that Gilby had given her continued to render her incapable of responding, so everyone simply worked around her.

When their apartment was empty and most of the men had gone, Alys and the maid struggled to dress Sheridan in traveling clothes. Ill or not, she had to be moved and it could not be done in her shift. The act of dressing her became even more complicated with Alys' bandaged arm, but they somehow managed to get a heavy wool shift and tunic on her. Even though she weighed next to nothing, it was like trying to dress a rag doll. They'd lift one arm and the other would fall. When they turned her over to fasten the dress, she nearly slid off the mattress. The entire event never gave them a moment's peace.

By the time the ladies were finished dressing her, they were exhausted. Sheridan was neatly bundled up, however, and prepared to depart. Alys went into the antechamber to notify the one remaining guard, but found it eerily empty. She found him in the hall, dutifully guarding the door. He proceeded to inform Alys that he was at his post pending the return of Neely and the bishop. Alys went back inside to wait.

The hustle of the past two hours had faded, leaving the apartments strangely still. There was a fire burning low in the hearth, the precious glass that lined the windows on this level frosted from the moisture inside the room. Alys wandered back into the bedchamber where the maid sat next to Sheridan, making sure her sister remembered to breathe. Sitting on the opposite side of the bed, she waited for the men to return.

Her arm throbbed and itched beneath the bandages. In truth, Alys wasn't particularly happy to be returning home. She rather liked it here at the Tower with a variety of men to look at. Glancing at Sheridan, she felt a stab of envy; her sister cared not for men in the least, yet she had de Lara and de Braose's attentions. It wasn't fair. But her bitterness fled as Sheridan coughed in her sleep. Alys reached out with her good hand to touch her sister's cheek. Poor Dani.

A knock on the antechamber door roused her from her thoughts. Alys rushed to the door to find Guy standing in the archway. His handsome, youthful face was grim.

"Where is Lady Sheridan?" he asked.

Alys pointed to the bedroom, disappointed that he had not asked for her. "She is ill."

He didn't say anything as he pushed past her. Alys trotted after him. Guy barged into the bedchamber, his gaze falling upon Sheridan's sleeping face. After a split-second of allowing himself the luxury of looking upon her beauty, absorbing it, he moved swiftly into action.

"We must get her out." He went to the side of the bed and scooped her carefully into his arms. "Get a blanket to cover her. I am taking her to the carriage."

The little maid hurried to do his bidding. A wool traveling blanket was produced. Alys was anxious at de Braose's clipped, rushed manner.

"What carriage?" she asked. "We came astride palfreys. Where are you…?"

"I have confiscated a carriage for her," Guy cut her off. "She obviously cannot ride in this condition. You will ride with her in the carriage to ensure her good health."

Alys couldn't argue. As the maid gathered up the last of their items, including the puppy, they followed de Braose from the apartment and into the long, dark corridor. He seemed almost in a panic to get out of the tower. Alys has to literally run to keep up with him.

"Why so hurried?" she asked him.

Guy didn't reply. He was absorbed by the urgency that filled every part of his body. His meeting with Jocelin just moments before had been brief. Guy came out of the meeting with a future wife. It had been everything he had been hoping for. But Jocelin also told him about de Lara. Guy understood the need for urgency in getting Sheridan out of the Tower better than most. Too much hinged on it.

"Sir Guy?" Alys would not be ignored. "Please tell me why you are so hurried. You are frightening me."

He hadn't meant to be cruel. Sometimes his dedication to a task caused him to lose sight of things around him and he realized that he was being selfish. "I do not mean to frighten you, my lady," he said quietly. "'Tis simply that the guard is ready and waiting to leave. I do not wish to leave them standing vulnerable."

It was a half-truth. Guy's own personal guard was mingled with the St. James men, all of them waiting to escort their lords and ladies out of the city. A siege was hours away and they had to get clear.

He was at the base of the steps, close to the doorway that lead to the yard and the Lanthorn gate beyond. He could almost smell the freedom and sent the maid on ahead to notify the troops of their impending arrival.

As he neared the open panel, a massive form stepped from the shadows. Guy knew who it was before he ever saw the face, simply by the size. He should have known the Lord of the Shadows would know his every move.

Guy came to a slow, unsteady halt. Alys yelped with fear, with surprise, as de Lara stepped into the soft gray light. Guy's forward momentum may have been arrested, but he stood his ground. He would not back down and he would not run. He could not believe that de Lara would attack him with Sheridan in his arms.

"Move aside, de Lara," he said calmly.

Sean was clad from head to toe in full battle gear. When he moved, metal brushed against metal and gave him a horrible, death-like resonance.

"Where are you going?" Sean sounded like the Devil.

Guy paused, fear and anger hand in hand. As long as he held Sheridan, he was certain that de Lara would do him no harm.

"I am escorting the ladies home, at the request of the Bishop of Bath and Glastonbury," he said. "If you would kindly step aside, we can be on our way."

"You are not leaving the Tower with Lady Sheridan."

"The ladies wish to return home."

Sean's hand went to rest on the hilt of his sword; the thing was so massive that it weighed as much as a small child. It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Guy, and the ripples of fear began to spread through his chest.

"Nay, they do not," Sean said steadily. "Give Lady Sheridan to me and be on your way."

The air grew tense. "I will not," Guy replied. "She goes home."

Sean shifted on his enormous legs. It was almost a thoughtful gesture. "De Braose, I have no quarrel with you. But you do not seem to understand the way of things. When I told you to give me the lady, that is exactly what I meant. To refuse my request is not in your best interest."

"You cannot use your sword against me without risking the lady." Guy's anger overshadowed his fear. "If your goal is truly to keep Lady Sheridan for yourself, what kind of man would risk her life simply to gain his wants?"

"That is not your concern. You are caught up in something you know nothing about. I would suggest you simply turn her over to me and be on your way."

"I will not."

"She does not belong to you."

"She is my betrothed."

"She is my betrothed."

The rapid-fire exchange came to a strange, unsteady pause. Guy finally shook his head. "The Bishop of Bath has consecrated our betrothal," he said. "I do not know whereby you make your claim."

"My claim is directly between the lady and me. I asked for her hand and she accepted."

Guy wasn't sure how to respond. There were apparently details that he knew nothing about. But, then again, de Lara could easily be lying. He gazed at Sheridan, collapsed against him, his thoughts and wants torn.

"I am sure that Jocelin would say that she has no right," he said softly. "'Tis not for the lady to dictate terms of marriage."

Sean watched Guy, the way he held Sheridan, and fought off the pangs of jealousy. "As heiress to Bath and Glastonbury, she can indeed express her desire. Jocelin has no formal control over her, other than by verbal agreement with her father." He took a step forward, his focus moving between Sheridan and Guy. "I can promise you that Jocelin will surrender to her will. And her will is to marry me."

In his heart, Guy suspected that was true. He could imagine no man denying Lady Sheridan. After a moment, he smiled wryly. "I would assume that Jocelin knows nothing of the agreement between you."

"He does not."

Sheridan picked that moment to awaken. Much to everyone's surprise, she suddenly raised an arm and slapped Guy across the face. Startled, he lost his grip and she almost tumbled to the floor. Only his quick reflexes prevented her head from striking the stone. Sean, as fast and agile as a cat, was on his knees beside her just as another hand came up. He grabbed it before it could strike Guy again.

"Bastards," she was half-awake, spouting obscenities. "I'll kill you both. Let me go. Let me go, I say!"

Sean knew her mind was not clear. Before he could speak, Alys leaned over her.

"Dani," she said softly. "'Tis all right. I am here."

Sheridan's luminous blue eyes lolled open. They kept rolling back into her head. "Alys?" she whispered. She blinked several times. "Where am I? What is happening?"

"We must leave the Tower," Alys told her. "Sir Guy… well, he is helping us…."

Sheridan was dreadfully groggy. She looked at Guy, then turned to Sean. Her eyes widened. "Sean," she whispered. "You are here, too?"

"I am here."

Guy could see in that moment, by the expression upon her face, that the feelings Sean de Lara had expressed for Sheridan were very mutual. It was a disheartening awareness. But Guy wasn't accustomed to surrender; it did not come easily to him. His father had taught him that. He knew that he would not relinquish Sheridan without a fight.

Sean still held her hand. Before Guy could stop him, he tugged gently on her arm and pulled her right up into his cradling grasp. They were smiling at each other, very glad to see one another. Guy's momentary surprise turned to resentment.

"No, de Lara," he said firmly. "She must go with me. I must remove her from the Tower at once."

Sean tore his gaze away from Sheridan long enough to cast de Braose a malignant glare. Strangely enough, he did not speak the multitude of threats that were on his mind. He saw no need now that Sheridan was in his arms.

"She will be removed," he said quietly. "But it will be under my protection."

Guy was normally a very calm man. What he did in the next moment was uncharacteristic. He unsheathed his weapon, a blade used in many battles by his forefathers, and leveled it at Sean. He ceased to become the calm, pleasant man he had established a reputation as. He became what his family had built their foundation on– a warring, confrontational de Braose.

"She is not yours, not by rights or by law," he said, as sternly as his mild-manner would allow. "Release her to me and I will forgive everything. Refuse and I shall be forced to defend what is rightfully mine."

The smell of battle was in the air. Sean had inhaled the heady scent too many times not to know it, not to feel it. He carefully put Sheridan down, holding her steady as she wobbled on weak legs.

"Go with Alys," he told her. "Alys, take your sister away from here. Go back to your apartment until I come for you."

"Nay," Sheridan shook her head, unsteadying herself to the point of nearly falling. "I'll not leave you. What is happening here?"

As Sean thought of a simple explanation for the events of the past few moments, Guy spoke.

"Jocelin has offered a betrothal between you and I," he said. "I have accepted."

Sheridan wasn't overly stunned. Her father had been trying to marry her off since she had been fourteen years of age. Five years later, Jocelin had taken the mantle of matchmaker. She knew her worth as an heiress, and Guy seemed like a kind young man. Certainly he was well connected and an alliance between St. James and de Braose would be a smart one. But the fact remained that she did not want to marry him.

"Sir Sean and I have an understanding of betrothal," she said as considerately as she could. "Jocelin was not aware of this when he spoke to you. He did not speak with my permission."

"But he spoke on behalf of your father, who has asked this of him," Guy said. "My lady, I mean no disrespect, but surely you are aware of Sir Sean's… loyalties."

"I am."

"And yet you would still marry him?"

"I would marry the man, not his politics."

"But they are one in the same. You are heiress to the House of St. James, one of the king's strongest opponents. To marry the king's personal protector would be to forever ostracize your family from her allies. You would be alone, ruined. It would be political suicide."

She knew that. Seeds of doubt began to take root. Perhaps she was being too selfish in only thinking of herself. But looking at Sean, the way the man made her feel, she could not imagine living without him for the rest of her life. Still, she could not shake the feeling that all of this might only be a passing infatuation. She'd only known Sean a matter of days and already she was willing to risk her family's future because of her own selfish wants. Confusion and distress, coupled by the residual effects of the drugs that Gilby had given her, weakened her normally strong resolve.

Sheridan took a few steps back, grasping Sean gently by the arm. She pulled him back, almost to the door, so that they could speak privately. Her lovely face turned to him, the light from the fading moon casting shadows on her features. From her expression, it was obvious that there was much on her mind.

"When I look at you," she murmured, "all I see is what I want, not necessarily what is right."

He understood what she meant. He had been wrestling with the same thing for days. "And when I look at you, I am willing to forget everything I have worked for, everything that I am, just for the chance to spend the rest of my life with you."

She smiled ironically. "What a pair we make."

"Indeed."

"But is it right? I mean, is what we desire the right thing to do? We both risk so very much."

"I would risk my life for a chance to be with you, however small."

She put her hand to his cheek and he clapped a massive hand over hers, holding her warm flesh against his. There was tremendous sense of longing in that sweet, brief touch.

"As sudden and irrational as it seems, I would as well," she murmured. "But I have so much more to consider than just myself. There's Alys. There are my family's holdings. When you demanded marriage of me, I…"

"Demand? Did you say demand?"

"Aye, demand," she lifted an insistent eyebrow at him. He grinned, and so did she. "I did not think of anything other than myself. Now I am forced to think of everything other than myself."

"Are you saying that you would rather marry de Braose?"

"Nay," she shook her head. "I would rather marry you. But I am not sure if it is the right thing to do."

He sighed, his gaze moving across the doorway, out into the yard, back into the corridor, finally falling on Guy and Alys. After a moment, he refocused on Sheridan.

"I have only known you days," he said quietly. "But in order to answer your question, I must trust you. Trust is not easily given, not in my profession. What I tell you must never leave your lips. If it does, I will die. Is this understood?"

He was serious. She nodded her head. "Aye."

He took a deep breath. It was difficult for him. "I am not what you think."

"What do you mean?"

"Allied to the king, part and parcel to his madness. My position with him is well calculated."

She still didn't understand. "I am not sure…."

"I am a spy, Sheridan."

It took a moment for the implication to sink in. Her eyes widened. "You… you spy for…?"

"For William Marshall. I have for almost thirteen years."

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering the big "O" that had formed. "Sean," the hand came down so she could speak. "What are you telling me?"

He grabbed her by both arms, his grip firm and warm and powerful. "I am telling you that my true title is Viscount Trestylan. I have lands and holdings in the Welsh Marches that my family has held before the Norman conquest. But my devotion to my country is so great that I would risk everything to help the resistance against the tyrannical king, as my father did before me. I chose to become a hated man because it is better to be at the right hand of the Devil than in his path. Most of the information you and your allies have been fed has come directly from me. I know all, see all. But in order to maintain the illusion, I have been forced into some unsavory choices and actions. I am, therefore, very much an ally to the House of St. James. When you marry me, you will indeed marry a collaborator. Only no one can know about my true loyalties until John is unseated and we have a new king upon the throne."

Her mouth was back to forming the astonished "O". The expression on her face was something he would remember for the rest of his life.

"My God," she breathed. "Is it true?"

"I swear upon my honor."

"That explains why you lied to the king about the assembly of nobles you saw in my apartment that night. And it also explains why you saved Alys from his lust."

"I saved Alys from him because I did not want you to be hurt. Had Alys been any one of the hundreds of other women passing through the king's bed, I would have let him have his way with her. I would not have risked myself."

Her hands threaded themselves around his fingers, tightening. "It… it is so difficult to believe all of this."

"As it should be. I have worked hard to establish my reputation."

"Who else knows of your true loyalties?"

"A select few, no more than I can count on one hand."

Several feet away, Guy shifted, noise from his armor echoing against the walls. It reminded them that they were not alone and that time was very short. As much as Sheridan wanted to linger on Sean's revelations, she knew their time together was quickly coming to an end. She began to feel a sense of panic.

"What do we do now?" she asked. "I do not want to marry Guy."

Sean could not leave with her. He could not marry her now. There were too many ingredients mixing into the great pot of chaos at the moment, creating a maelstrom of choices from which to pick. He had to choose the right course of action or all would be lost.

"I know you are unaware of the events of the past several hours, but suffice to say that an attack on London is imminent," he explained softly, quickly. "De Braose is taking you out of the city, as most of the allies have already fled. You and Alys must go home."

"But what of you?" she wanted to know. "What are you going to do?"

He would not tell her of his potential orders to march on Kington, to engage the de Braose army even as he now faced off against one of their kin. Nor would he tell her of the rumors that he was to march on Lansdown. He knew, no matter what his orders, that he would not do that. Now was not the time to rattle her brain with more information than she could rationally absorb.

"I shall stay here to ensure that London falls to the allies," he said. "Then I shall go to Lansdown. And you."

There was great fear in her eyes, not for the siege, but for Sean. "I do not want to leave you."

He smiled, kissing both her hands. "Nor I, you. But for your own safety, you must go."

Sheridan's gaze moved to Guy, standing silent several feet away. His sword was still drawn. "I swear that I will not marry him. I will commit myself to a convent first."

Sean's jaw ticked, feeling helpless to prevent anything from happening until his own tasks were completed. "I trust that you will hold both him and Jocelin off until I can come for you," he said. "I am sorry I cannot be of more help than that. It would seem that I have my own problems to take care of before you and I can be together."

She nodded, resigned and renewed. "I shall be strong, have no doubt. I shall look for you to return to me every day."

He touched her face. He didn't care if de Braose was looking or not; he kissed her so deeply that he lifted her off the ground. All he cared about at the moment was the taste, the feel, the smell of her. He was enraptured.

"My thoughts and affections go with you," he murmured in her ear. "Not a day will pass that I will not hold you dear in my heart and mind."

She was close to tears but held herself in check. "I am yours and only yours, for always."

"Swear it."

"I do. Oh, I do."

He kissed her again, his thumbs on her cheeks. He drew in the sight of her, something to keep safe in his memory for the long separation ahead. With a final wink, he took her arm and led her back to de Braose.

"Take her back to Lansdown," his request sounded suspiciously like a command. "Make sure that she is well and safe."

Guy still held the sword. He had witnessed the exchange between the lady and de Lara, though he'd not heard their words. But the affection between the two was readily apparent. He had not expected this outcome but he did not question it. As he went to take her arm, somewhat hesitantly, he was shocked to witness de Lara suddenly unsheathing his sword. It was like watching a bolt of lightning strike; flashy, loud, and nearly faster than the eye could track.

Men were rushing in from the courtyard, charging through the open door. It was dark and difficult to see the cluster of bodies filling the small stair well. But one thing was for certain; they were armed to the teeth and heading straight for de Braose. Sean had his sword leveled defensively, swiftly striking down the first two men who came within close proximity of him.

His primary concern was to protect Sheridan. In the darkness, it took him a moment to recognize the Royal guards and Gerard's shaggy head somewhere in the middle of them. He bellowed above the mob.

"Halt!" he boomed. "Lower your weapons!"

The guards haltingly slowed, obviously prepared for a row. They took their orders directly from Sean, rarely from Gerard, who had given the initial command. They looked around in confusion as Gerard pushed forward through the group.

"What goes on here?" Gerard asked. "Where are the de Braose men?"

Sean shook his head. "Who told you that?"

Gerard looked around, seeing Alys, terrified, followed by Guy and finally Sheridan. His gaze lingered on Sheridan.

"Who's that?" he pointed, ignoring Sean's question completely.

"Answer me," Sean said in a voice that would tolerate no disobedience. "Who told you de Braose men were here?"

Gerard looked at him. "Sentries saw young de Braose leaving with the St. James women. We came to stop him."

"Why?"

"All of the allied nobles are leaving, Sean," Gerard looked at him as if he should have rightly known this. "The king wants answers. De Braose will have them."

Sean didn't flinch, but already, he could see the far-reaching implications of what was about to happen. He knew, deep down, that news of the flight would reach the king. There was no way he could have prevented it with all of the eyes in the Tower. He moved to where Gerard stood; a half-head taller than the man, he hissed at him through clenched teeth.

"What do you think I was trying to do, you idiot?" he snarled. "You come rushing in here like a stampede of cattle and destroy all that I have been attempting to accomplish."

Gerard widened with understanding. "You intercepted him?"

"Of course I did, fool. Were it not for your intrusion, I would have answers by now."

Gerard began to realize that he had apparently ruined what Sean had been attempting to achieve. He put his hands up, his expression lined with doubt. "My apologies," his gaze moved between Sean and the three allies. "I should have known."

"Aye, you should have."

"The king wants to talk to de Braose himself."

Sean couldn't head him off with all of the men around them as witnesses. His clever try at redeeming the situation had been thwarted. He was cornered and he had no choice.

"Then take him," he said. "I will take the women."

Gerard glanced back over at Alys, sobbing softly with fear, and Sheridan, looking ethereal and angel-like in the soft, misty gray garment she wore.

"Who is the blond?" his voice was low. "I have not seen her around."

Sean could literally smell the man's lust and it inflamed him like nothing he had ever experienced in his life. But he held himself in check. He could not lose control, not now. The situation was going awry and he had to focus.

"Sheridan St. James," he replied. "Henry's eldest."

Gerard's face lit up. He flicked a hand at the guard, indicating for them to grab de Braose. "The king will want to meet her, don't you think?" he winked at Sean as he turned away.

Sean actually considered killing him. He put the hand on the hilt of his sword and was fully prepared to do just that. But there were too many men around, too many witnesses, and he realized that he had spent far too much time in the king's service where morals and conscience were not required. He had killed on behalf of the king, too many times, because it had been required of him in order to maintain his post. He was not, by nature, a murderer. But he had been forced to do what was necessary in order to accomplish his mission. He began to wonder if, after all these years, he was actually becoming what he pretended to be. A cold-blooded killer.

Guy was overwhelmed by the guards, who stripped him of his sword and knocked him around for good measure. Sheridan and Alys clung together, watching in horror. Sean moved in, like a phantom, and put one arm around each lady. As Guy was still struggling with Gerard and the Royal guards, he swept them away.

As they fled for the Lanthorn Gate, they were ambushed.