“Then I will wait to hear what scheme we are to put into play,” he said. “You do know that de Lohr is behind us with his army.”
“I assumed as much.”
“His men were breaking down their encampment as we were leaving,” he said. “I also saw Christopher, David, and Peter head to the keep of Norwich with about fifty soldiers. I am sure they were going to confront John. Without Sean to defend the man, we could very well have a dead king by now.”
There was contempt in that statement. He couldn’t even say “my brother”, only “Sean” as if that put distance between him and his brother. As if there were no familial relations.
It was so… cold.
Alexander had known Kevin for a few years. He never served with him in The Levant, but they’d worked together several times since he’d returned. He was strong, faithful, and skilled. But he was also very rigid when it came to Sean and everyone knew it.
Alexander had never interfered or commented on Kevin and Sean’s relationship, but given that he’d had brothers once, Kevin’s attitude rubbed him the wrong way. Considering they would soon be fighting for Christin’s life and his future with her, he didn’t need or want any complications.
Like feuding brothers.
“Sean does his duty and he does it well, Kevin,” he said quietly. “I don’t give a damn how you feel about it, however. So for this mission, you will treat him with respect. I don’t care what you do when your time is your own, but this is my time. Sean de Lara is risking more than you can ever imagine to control an uncontrollable king and you would do well to remember that. Whatever your personal feelings are, bury them. I don’t want to see them.”
Kevin looked at him with some surprise, perhaps some indignance. “When have I ever not been professional, Sherry?”
But Alexander shook his head. “Whenever you speak of your brother, it is with such scorn,” he said. “Just now, you did it. You speak about him as if he were dirt and you will not do that again in my presence. It is beneath you and it is incredibly disrespectful to your brother.”
Standing at the livery entry, Sean heard him and turned around. “Sherry…”
But Alexander cut him off. “Nay, Sean. If he is going to display such contempt in my presence, then I have something to say about it.” He returned his focus to Kevin, who was starting to stiffen. “Kevin, I had two brothers who went with me to The Levant. They were younger than I was and they were full of arrogance and foolishness and talent and delusions of grandeur. They were both thorns in my side, but they were also my dearest loves. No matter what I did, they loved me. They worshipped me. Once, I was forced to kill two young boys because they were scouting for the Muslim army. Had I let them go, they would have given away our position, so I did what had to be done. Instead of hating me for it or telling me I had shamed the de Sherrington name by murdering children, they helped me bury the bodies and they showed me great compassion, even at their young ages because they understood the torment I went through for the greater good. I did it to save my men and they knew that.”
Kevin was looking at him most guardedly, taking a step back as if to turn away from him, but Alexander stopped him.
“Is that what you do when you don’t like to hear something?” he asked. “Do you turn away from things that are unpleasant because you do not have the capacity to understand or show compassion? Because if that is truly the case, then you are not the knight I thought you were. You are the one shaming the de Lara name; not your brother. Do you know why? Because part of being a great knight is showing mercy and understanding, both of which you seem to have trouble with when it comes to your brother. My brothers died in the Battle of Acre, right before my eyes, and there isn’t a day that passes that I don’t hate myself for not being able to help them. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them and weep for them. You still have your brother, yet you shun him, and that makes me sick. You could show him compassion and understanding, yet you choose not to. And I think that is pathetic.”
By this time, Kevin was standing there, looking at him as if he either wanted to shout at him or throw a punch. Alexander took a sharp, deep breath and turned away, heading out into the rear yard to cool off so he wouldn’t wrap his hands around Kevin’s throat. The things he’d told the man were things he’d kept buried, so to speak of them shook him up. But he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stand seeing Kevin treat Sean the way he did.
It simply wasn’t right.
As Alexander took to the rear yard, Sean remained by the door, watching the figures of Caius and Bric in the distance. But his mind was on what Alexander had just said. He’d never defended himself against Kevin and to hear Alexander speak so harshly to his brother deeply touched him. He’d known Alexander for a few years, but it wasn’t as if they’d been close friends or had served side by side. Still… Alexander understood Sean’s position and he’d just hammered that into Kevin.
Not that Sean believed it would do any good, but he was still grateful.
As he stood there and pondered the situation, he could see Caius, Bric, Maxton, and Kress heading back in his direction. He ducked back into the livery, moving towards the rear of it to summon Alexander, who saw Sean motioning to him. He entered the livery about the same time everyone else did and when they realized that Sean really was on their side, both Sean and Alexander repeated Sean’s plan.
Have de Lohr’s army engage John’s men.
Sean and the group will ride to Bishop’s Lynn, pretending to be the escort and deliver Christin to FitzRoy.
Kevin volunteered to rendezvous with Christopher’s army to deliver the news, perhaps simply to get away from Alexander’s disapproval and his brother’s presence. Or perhaps it was to prove that he was a good knight, dutiful and diligent. In any case, he separated himself from the rest and headed back the way he’d come.
At that point, everyone knew what was expected.
The rest was up to Christin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“How far ahead of us do you think they are?”
The question came from David. It was just after dusk on a cold, damp night. The de Lohr army of one hundred men, plus William Marshal’s troops, totaled about two hundred and twenty men and given that they were out in the middle of nowhere between towns, they were going to have to stop for the night and sleep in the nearby field.
William had headed back to London with John when the king hastily departed Norwich Castle before his celebration feast, leaving Old Daveigh with piles of food and many confused guests to eat it, confused because the king had departed without warning. Or perhaps there had been some warning, considering rumors of de Lohr storming the keep with his men had spread like wildfire. The de Lohr brothers had departed, the king and William Marshal had departed, and all that was left was hundreds of soldiers, dozens of lords, and Old Daveigh trying to convince everyone that nothing was amiss.
But it had been clear that something was.
But Christopher couldn’t worry about that. He was only concerned with getting to his daughter before Robert FitzRoy got his hands on her. Several of William’s agents had ridden ahead to prevent this while Christopher and David and Peter moved slowly with the army, but it couldn’t be helped.