Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) Page 21

  How long would he stay alive in this empty, pitch-black cell?

  With access to neither food nor water, death awaited him in mere days.

  His chief regret? Merryn would never know what happened to him. She might believe he slipped into madness and fled, revealing and reliving his worst nightmares to her. Or she might think him ashamed that she knew what had occurred. That Berold had brought him to his knees, and Geoffrey thought he was not good enough for her anymore.

  Would she live her life alone, as she had before his return? Could she possibly be with child again? They had coupled numerous times since his return, the sweet bonds of love restoring his faith in himself and their relationship. Would she once more carry his child without him at her side, bearing it without his support?

  Bitter tears spilled from his eyes as he stood in the dark. Geoffrey gripped the iron bars in his hands and shook them with all his might. Yet already, he could tell his body weakened. He had not eaten since the noon meal yesterday.

  To be so close to his beloved and never be discovered pained him physically. No one at Kinwick ever came to the dungeons. No marauding invaders lurked nearby, nor rebels in a civil war. It might be decades before anyone ventured down here and found his bones, wondering who the man locked within the cell might have been.

  His voice, long gone from the hours of shouting, broke in a whisper as he raged against a God who would allow this to happen. Not once. But twice. The whole thing had come full circle.

  And this time he had no one to free him.

  Geoffrey slumped to his knees. Hope slipped from his fingers. He pictured a worried Merryn searching Kinwick for him. Her growing despair when he could not be located. Lying in misery in their bed, her pillow soaked with futile tears.

  Word would be sent to the king. This time, Edward would act swiftly. He had already decided which knight to reward, so making the decision would not be difficult.

  He imagined Symond Benedict riding triumphantly through the gates of Kinwick, looking around at his reward. Taking Merryn to wife. Banishing Ancel and Alys to a household far away.

  And making love to his new wife.

  Geoffrey could not rid himself of the agonizing images that flew at him. Benedict’s rough hands sliding along Merryn’s smooth skin. Running through her silken hair. Grasping her buttocks and yanking her toward him. Coupling with her.

  He longed for death to come swiftly and end this torment.

  He had never wished for it—not once—in all his time in the dark cell at Winterbourne. Every fiber in his being wanted to return to Merryn, which caused him to want to live. But this time ‘twas different.

  Geoffrey curled into a ball.

  Wait . . .

  After years in the dark, his hearing was sharpened. He sat up.

  He heard something.

  And once again, despair melted away as he sensed the change in the air. Saw a faint light glowing in the distance, moving toward him.

  Geoffrey cried out, but his voice was barely above a whisper. It sounded as a babe who might whimper fussily, wanting more of his mother’s milk but too sleepy to protest overmuch.

  Using the bars again to pull himself to his feet, he beat his hands against them. Any noise to bring someone close.

  And then Merryn stood before his cell, a lantern in her hand, the anguish on her face melting away, replaced by a look of surprise and then utter joy.

  He held the bars tightly to steady himself and leaned his forehead against them. Merryn’s arms came through the bars, grasping his face, pulling him toward her. She kissed him. He tasted her salty tears, but more importantly, he tasted her love. He would not die alone. His wife had rescued him again, in more ways than one.

  She broke the kiss. “How the Devil do I get you out of here?” she demanded.

  CHAPTER 34

  “Look for the keys to the cell. They often hang on the wall.” Geoffrey paused. “’Tis where Berold kept them. Across from my prison. Always within sight. Never within reach.”

  Merryn’s stomach roiled at the thought. She still found it hard to believe the earl had locked her husband away from the world for so many years. To hear the way out of the cell faced him was almost more than she could bear.

  She lifted the lantern to the stone wall across from the cells and searched for the key.

  “Here!” she cried, spying a hook. But no keys hung from it. She believed Symond had taken them for spite.

  Merryn returned to Geoffrey. Her hand caressed his cheek. “They are not here. I shall go find help to free you.” She paused, wanting to make light of the horrible situation. “And this time you better still be here when I return.”

  Her husband’s jaw dropped in disbelief—then he roared with laughter. “Christ in Heaven, Merryn. Only you would dare to say such a thing to me.” He caught her hands in his and pressed a kiss upon her knuckles. “I will always be here for you, my love. Always.”

  She nodded and hurried from the dungeons, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to spill. She hated leaving him in darkness, but she needed the light she had brought to return above stairs. She hustled up the long flight and allowed the anger at Symond to build until it washed over her, ready to spill out. If he had been waiting upstairs, she knew in her heart that she would have killed him on the spot without hesitation.

  As she reached the top, she found Ancel lurking about, a worried look upon his face.

  “Where were you, Mother?”

  Merryn set down the lantern and drew the boy to her in a tight embrace, kissing the top of his head. “I found your father, Ancel. But I must go for help.”

  Eagerness sprang to his face. “I can help!”

  She smoothed his hair. “Not now, little love. Go find Alys and play with her.”

  Merryn hurried down the hallway and left the keep. She saw Raynor striding across the bailey. Hugh accompanied him.

  “I found him,” she called out, rushing toward them. She briefly explained, watching both men’s anger rise as she spoke.

  “I shall kill Symond Benedict,” Raynor ground out.

  “You might want to leave that for Geoffrey. I believe he will take great pleasure in doing so. But go. Find Gilbert. We need several men to break through the bars. And Geoffrey will want to ride out as soon as he’s freed, so have Gilbert ready the men, as well.”

  Hugh nodded grimly. “I had come to see how you fared after the king’s visit. I cannot believe this ghastly business.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I shall return to Wellbury immediately and ready a hundred men. We shall ride with Geoffrey’s men in a show of support.”

  “Thank you,” she told her brother. “That would mean a great deal to him.” To Raynor, she said, “Bring several torches when you come.”

  Both Hugh and Raynor took off. Merryn went to the kitchens and grabbed a hunk of cheese, along with some bread and two chicken legs. She set them on a tray and thought to bring a pitcher of ale, too. She knew it had been many hours since Geoffrey ate or drank anything. He would need his strength to go after Symond.

  Merryn reached the entrance to the dungeons. It did not surprise her to see her son awaited her. She balanced the tray against her waist as he lifted the lantern. Ancel silently fell into step with her as they began to descend the long flight of stone stairs to the dungeon. She decided not to hide anything from the boy. He must know what wickedness had occurred and that his father would seek justice.

  They reached Geoffrey. Ancel set the lantern down at the edge of the bars. Merryn watched Geoffrey give his son an encouraging smile.

  “Why are you down here, Father?”

  “Because a very bad man locked me in a cell and took the key.”

  “Sir Symond?”

  “Yes.”

  Ancel thought about that. “He wasn’t helping you last night? I saw you with him, staggering around.”

  Geoffrey drew in a long breath and then expelled it. “Nay, son. He attacked me as I left a chamber. I never saw him
. He knocked me unconscious. Then brought me here.”

  “But he’s a knight!” Ancel cried. “He broke his word of honor.”

  Merryn’s heart hurt. Ancel was so young to learn of such evil in the world. But mayhap he would grow wiser at a young age, having been exposed to its existence.

  “’Tis true. Though most knights are good men and strive to honor their oath all the days of their service, some allow their greed to rise above the good they are pledged to do. Symond Benedict is one such man. He wanted something that was not his and decided he would do whatever it took to possess it.”

  “Kinwick?” the boy asked.

  “Aye. He thought if I were gone, then the king would give him the land and woman he coveted.”

  “He would have been my father,” Ancel whispered.

  Geoffrey placed his hands through the bars. They came to rest upon Ancel’s shoulders. “Nay. You are my son. You will always be my son. And I shall love you till I am an old man and your own sons run about me, laughing and playing.”

  Merryn wiped a tear from her eye at the thought. She sent a prayer up to the Heavenly Father, thanking him that she’d found Geoffrey and that they would be able to grow old together.

  “I wasn’t sure if I wanted you to come back,” Ancel admitted.

  Geoffrey squeezed the boy’s shoulders gently. “I know. You have been the man of Kinwick and your mother’s protector. ‘Tis hard to take on that responsibility at your young age, and ‘tis even harder when you find it snatched from you.”

  “I’m sorry, Father,” Ancel said. He squared his shoulders. “And I will help free you,” he declared.

  “We can use all the help we can get,” Gilbert called out.

  Merryn turned and saw a crew of Kinwick men arriving, armed with torches and poleaxes in hand.

  “Move away, lad,” Gilbert commanded. “We shall lay our axes to this iron and have your father out in no time.”

  “Should you hold fire to it first?” Geoffrey asked. “To weaken it?”

  “We can,” Raynor said. “Step back, Geoffrey.”

  “Let me give him something to eat first,” Merryn said, her womanly instincts taking over. She passed him the food and drink through the bars. “You will need your strength for when we leave Kinwick.”

  “We?”

  She grinned. “You do not think I would remain behind?”

  He returned the smile. “I never doubted it.” He retreated to the rear of the cell and attacked the food with enthusiasm.

  Several men stepped up and held flames to the iron for some minutes before they took their poleaxes to task. The pounding continued for some time. Even Ancel tried to help, slamming his wooden sword into the bars, yelling for them to come down.

  “Careful, you don’t want it to break,” Merryn warned him.

  Ancel backed away and continued to watch the men work. Geoffrey finished his meal and moved back to the front of the cell. Merryn went to stand beside him, the bars separating their bodies, but their fingers entwined in unity.

  Finally, some of the iron began to give way. After much labor, enough bars were removed for Geoffrey to squeeze through the opening. She fell into his arms, smothering him with kisses.

  “Enough,” he told her, and she knew it was only because so many of his men were present. “We must make ready to leave. Where was the royal progress heading next?”

  “To the north of us. Lord Southwark’s estate,” Raynor told him.

  “We can reach it in less than three hours’ time, my lord,” Gilbert said. “The men are ready when you are.”

  “Then fetch my armor. We leave immediately.”

  “I have a few things to pack,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “Do not leave me behind,” she warned.

  Geoffrey gave her a swift kiss. “We shall never be parted again. You shall tire of me following you about like a puppy.”

  Merryn kissed him back. “I shall never tire of that, my lord,” she said pertly.

  She returned to the solar and packed a quick bag. She would prefer Geoffrey wash the dust of the road from himself and put on new clothing before speaking to the king. She doubted that would occur, but it never hurt to be prepared. She also slipped in a change of clothes for herself and a brush.

  Ancel appeared in the doorway as she picked up the bag.

  “I want to come, Mother. I need to help Father.”

  She knelt before him. “I know, my precious. But we are riding long and hard. You are not that skilled a rider just yet. And your father would protect you from what will occur at Lord Southwark’s.”

  His eyes grew round. “Will Father kill Sir Symond?”

  Merryn shrugged. “That I do not know. We will speak to the king. He will decide what is to occur since it involves one of his royal guardsmen.” She kissed both his cheeks. “Look after Alys. Be my good boy.”

  “I will,” he promised.

  Ancel followed her all the way to the stables, where her saddled horse awaited her. Geoffrey himself tied her bag to the horn and helped her mount Destiny before he swung up onto Mystery’s back. Ancel tugged on his father’s leg.

  “Come back,” the boy said.

  Geoffrey nodded solemnly. “I will. Till then, you are in charge of Kinwick. Be nice to Alys. We shall see you soon.”

  With that, they turned their horses and left the inner bailey, riding to the outer one and then through the gates. Hugh’s retainers awaited them, the Mantel banner flying in the breeze. The de Montfort banner joined it, and over two hundred rode from Kinwick.

  They made swift time and arrived at Lord Southwick’s estate at dusk.

  “What business have you here?” called the gatekeeper from his tower watch.

  “I am Geoffrey de Montfort, and my men are accompanied by my brother-in-law Hugh Mantel’s troops.”

  “I know the colors, my lord. You have been a visitor here before. But the king is being entertained.”

  “I have a great need to see the king.”

  “Let him in,” a voice called.

  The gatekeeper looked to it. “Aye, Sir Alard.” He motioned to a man hidden from view, and the gates began to widen slowly.

  Merryn allowed Destiny to follow Mystery into Southwick. Sir Alard greeted them.

  “I am surprised to see you again so soon, my lady. My lord,” the knight said to them.

  “We have business with the king that cannot wait,” Geoffrey told him.

  “His majesty is supping now in the Great Hall. I assume ‘tis a private matter you wish to discuss with him?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then if you and Lady Merryn will come with me, I shall escort you to the solar and send word to the king that you await his presence.”

  “May my brother and cousin accompany us?” Merryn asked.

  The knight nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”

  The party of four followed the knight all the way to the keep. They left their horses and hurried up the stairs to enter the castle. Sir Alard found a serving wench and ordered her to escort them to the solar while he went to deliver their message in person.

  “Be patient,” he advised before he departed. “The king is not in the best frame of mind today.”

  Merryn’s stomach twisted. She had witnessed the swing of the pendulum regarding Edward’s shifting temperament. She hoped he would happy to learn they were here, but she knew to anticipate the worst.

  They made their way upstairs, where the serving maid offered them seats, which they took, and wine, from which they abstained. Merryn knew the men wanted to keep their wits about them.

  The door slammed back against the wall, startling her. She watched the king of England enter, a sour look upon his face.

  Following closely on his heels was Sir Symond Benedict.

  CHAPTER 35

  Geoffrey rose to his feet but restrained himself from going for Symond Benedict’s throat. He deliberately rooted himself to the spot upon which he stood, his hands clenched in fists by his side. Merryn came
to her feet and slipped a hand through the crook of his arm. Her touch calmed him.

  But his ire rose at the smirk on Benedict’s face.

  Four more royal guardsmen entered the room behind Benedict and fanned out. Edward glanced at the group gathered in the solar and threw himself into an empty chair. The king looked older than he had at Kinwick. Apparently, the visit at Southwark had not gone well.

  “What do you want?” he demanded surly, his foot tapping impatiently.

  “Sire, I have a grievous issue to speak to you of.” Geoffrey indicated the knights crowded into the solar. “’Tis a private matter that you will wish to hear alone.”

  “So be it,” the king muttered grumpily. He waved a hand in front of him. “Away. To the hall.”

  The knights lost their defensive stance and filed out of the chamber.

  “You may want this one to remain.” Geoffrey pointed at Benedict, the last guardsmen in line.

  Edward frowned. “The man guards me. He’s neither adviser nor confessor. He may take his leave.”

  Benedict hesitated, hatred smoldering in his eyes as he looked at Geoffrey.

  “Your majesty, the matter concerns this knight and his unseemly behavior,” Geoffrey replied.

  The king studied his guardsman a moment, interest sparking in his eyes. “So be it. Close the door and return to my side,” he commanded.

  Benedict did as his liege instructed. He pushed the heavy wooden door shut and came to stand next to Edward’s chair.

  Merryn’s hand tightened on his arm. Geoffrey gave her a reassuring glance and broke away from her, moving closer to the king.

  “To understand the significance of the matter, sire, I must tell you a story. One which you asked of me, but I was not at liberty to speak of it. Till now.”

  He knew he had Edward’s attention. The king’s churlish mood instantly vanished. A ghost of a smile appeared upon his lips. He sat forward, eager to hear what Geoffrey had refused to discuss previously.

  “Go on.”

  “Before I continue, sire, I must ask that what is said not leave this room. The one responsible is gone, and no good would come of punishing the children for the sins of the father.”