Rod nodded in understanding. “And if the girl is not in good health?” he asked. “What do you want me to do?”
Christopher didn’t look at Jax, afraid to see his expression. “If she is not, then you will return to us immediately and tell us what you have seen. We will determine how to proceed at that time.”
He meant plans for a siege. Rod sighed heavily, with regret for what might come. “And do you want me to tell him who we have with us?” he asked. “Do I tell him about his father?”
Christopher shrugged. “I would prefer that you not, but if it is the only way he will meet us on neutral ground for the exchange, so be it.”
Rod nodded and spurred his charger forward, across the dusty road that doubled back on itself as it rose up the incline to Cloryn Castle. Meanwhile, Christopher and Jax plowed back through the lines until they came to John Morgan, back at mid-pack with Berwyn several feet away. Christopher focused on John Morgan.
“We have arrived at the castle your son has confiscated from Lord de Velt,” he said in simple terms. “Do you recall I told you of this back at Lioncross?”
John Morgan nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
“I told you that your son, Bretton, has seized Lord de Velt’s daughter and he is holding her hostage to seek vengeance for your death.”
Again, John Morgan nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
Christopher leaned forward on his saddle, fixed on John Morgan’s bright blue eyes. “We are going to present you to your son in exchange for de Velt’s daughter,” he said. “I told you this before. It is very important that you accept that Bretton de Llion is your son. We will explain to him that you do not rememberhim and I am not entirely sure how he is going to accept that, but it is very important that you go with the man so we can secure de Velt’s daughter. You are a soldier, Morgan. This is your duty to help save this young woman. Do what you can to keep your son calm, at least until we can spirit her away. Is this clear?”
“Aye, my lord.”
Even though John Morgan acknowledged the order, it was anyone’s guess as to how much he really understood. Christopher’s gaze considered John Morgan before seeking out Berwyn.
The old man was several feet away, looking pale and worn. Of anyone, this entire venture seemed to be taking the greatest toll on Berwyn with his long-lost son and grandson involved. Christopher’s heart hurt for the man but there wasn’t time for that now. They had a job to do.
“You will come with us, Berwyn,” he said. “Mayhap we can overwhelm de Llion with his father and grandfather, enough so that we can get Lady Allaston away without harm. I would much rather handle this peacefully if we can.”
Berwyn nodded with resignation. “I will come, my lord.”
As Jax took John Morgan with him and headed for the clearing in the distance, Christopher reined his charger next to Berwyn as the old man secured his helm atop his head. There was lethargy to his movements, something that was sad to watch from the usually spry old man.
“I am sorry things have turned out this way, Berwyn,” Christopher said quietly. “Although I am glad for you that Morgan and Bretton have been discovered alive, the circumstances of their lives are less than desirable. Hopefully, with time, that will change.”
Berwyn nodded stoically. “We shall see, my lord,” he said. “But, at this moment… I wish they were still dead to me. My memories of them are fond ones, but this new reality… I am notso sure I like it. I do not want the new, sad memories to destroy the old.”
Christopher reached out and patted the old man on the shoulder before they drove their chargers onward, across the road and into the field opposite Cloryn’s front gates. As the day around them deepened, the bright blue sky above was cheery and clear, hardly indicative of the turmoil about to happen beneath it.
The turmoil of a dead father returned to a dead son.
*
As Rod approachedCloryn’s gates, he noticed a small forest of poles stuck in the ground surrounding the road leading up to the gatehouse. It looked like a bunch of tree trunks, reduced to stumps, emerging from the soil. As he slowed his charger to a walk, it occurred to him that these were the remains of the poles upon which people had been impaled. It was no secret that Bretton had been emulating Jax de Velt’s pattern of conquest and as Rod plodded up the road towards the gatehouse, he couldn’t help but feel the terror and pain that must have gone on at this place. He could almost hear the screams of the men as poles were rammed up their anus. The mere thought made him shudder and he swallowed hard, trying to push aside the horrific mental images.
His gaze moved to the walls of Cloryn, tall barriers constructed from mottled gray stone. Evil and fear radiated from the very walls, and the phantoms of the dead swirled about him. God, there was so much wickedness here. Rod could see men at the top, looking down upon him, so he slowed his pace as he drew near the entry and lifted his visor. The two-storied gatehouse loomed before him, the drawbridge raised and the moat, soiled with mud and muck and unspeakable filth, filledthe air with its stench. Wary, and cautious, Rod finally pulled his steed to a halt. The time was upon him to speak.
“My name is Sir Rod de Titouan,” he bellowed. “I am a cousin to Bretton de Llion. I have come to speak with him!”
He could see men moving around on top of the parapets and he could hear voices. There was a good deal of scuffling going on but no one called back to him or acknowledged him. Rod waited a nominal amount of time, watching them move about, before shouting again.
“I would speak with Bretton de Llion,” he yelled. “I have come with the armies of de Lohr and de Velt. Tell de Llion I am here!”
More shuffling and voices. As Rod waited with some impatience, a voice eventually called down to him from the junction where the wall met the gatehouse.
“Rod?” Bretton called down to him. “What are you doing here?”
Rod looked up, spying Bretton on the wall above. He could see his face but little more. He waved a hand at the man.
“Greetings, cousin,” he said. “I suppose you did not think you would see me again so soon.”
