“You can’t seek him out when he has armed men at his command! You know he will set the soldiers on you rather than face you. He’s a coward!”
He looked down into her eyes and smoothed a lock of her hair from her forehead. “Go into the back room of Nell’s cottage but leave the door open as we found it. I’ll tie the horses inside Leland’s, across the way; his door is still shut and won’t incur suspicion. If I don’t come for you, wait until you hear them depart and then go. You don’t want them behind you.”
“I’m not going to cower in a cottage while you’re possibly killed. If Felsteppe and the king’s men are there, I’d as soon know it and leave for London immediately.”
Constantine shook his head. “You’re not coming past the village.”
“Yes, I am,” she insisted. “Only part of the way. I must.”
“No.”
“You can’t stop me, Constantine,” she said shrilly. “I’ll just wait until you leave and follow you.”
He pulled her into his chest and stroked her hair as she began to cry. But William soon objected to the close quarters and roused with a squawk, prompting Dori to pull away from him.
“I’m not going to endanger myself or William,” she said, bouncing the baby to quiet him as she swiped at her nose. “But I can’t allow you to think that you are alone any more. I won’t. Because you’re not. And if you know that the two of us are behind you, perhaps you will try just a bit harder to come back for us.” She glared at him, as if he had committed some terrible slight against her.
But Constantine knew she was only very afraid.
“All right,” he conceded.
Her nostrils flared and she continued to glower at him. “I love you.”
He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly, unable to help his smile. Then he bent and pressed his mouth to the blanket covering William’s head. “And I love you.”
He closed the horses inside the crippled villager’s sty of a home and then met Theodora in the street once more. They left the village side by side, and Dori, true to her word, fell behind him gradually as they ascended the rise leading to Benningsgate Castle. He was grateful for that, for believing she would hide herself away when she ought. Constantine knew Theodora loved him, but he also knew she would not risk the son she had come so close to dying trying to save.
He could see the outline of the ruined keep and walls now, yellow light rippling up from the ward beyond. Many torches would be needed to create such a bright glow, and the thought of Felsteppe trying to use Benningsgate as a fortress against him caused a new, fresh fury to rise up in Constantine.
A smaller flare of yellow was now bobbing along inside the partially collapsed tunnel of the barbican, reflecting on the wall behind the fall of stones washed out on the road. Constantine’s mind went briefly to that day, weeks and weeks ago now, when he had first returned to Benningsgate and wept on this road with the gravel in his hands.
A black shadow grew within the yellow glow—a sentry perhaps.
“Who goes there?” a man’s voice called out with authority, and Constantine stopped in the center of the road. “Announce yourself or prepare to be cut down.”
A lump formed in Constantine’s throat as a sneer twisted his mouth. Despite the years that had passed, the regrets he held, the mistakes he had made and could never atone for in this life, in that moment, Constantine had returned to protect his family.
Patrice and Christian.
Dori and William.
He drew his sword and began walking forward once more.
“It is the master of this hold who approaches,” Constantine said in a low and deadly voice, his weapon at the ready, his steps sure. “And I have come to reclaim what is mine.”
“The true master of this hold is rumored dead,” the voice taunted.
“The rumors are false. I am General Constantine Gerard and—”
He broke off as a piece of the yellow glow from within the barbican separated itself from the larger radiance and crept around the edge of the rubble. A single torch emerged and Constantine’s heart hardened further when he saw that it was a young boy who carried it. It was clearly not this lad who had warned him away.
Constantine stopped. “Fetch your lord, boy,” he growled. “He is using you. You’ll only be hurt. Run, I say.”
The boy shook his head, the torchlight glinting off his unruly blond hair and stared at Constantine.
Constantine looked sideways quickly as Dori appeared near his arm, holding William.
“What are you doing?” Constantine growled. “Go back to the village before you’re seen, Theodora, for the love of God!”
