Alastor was watching his soldiers enter the keep with a litter to put the burned corpse upon. “Then mayhap he had enough of that wine to loosen his tongue just a little.”
“Possibly.”
“In all of your time at the side of William, you never heard the mention of Berwick?”
Cole shook his head. “My directive was not to become an advisor or close confidant,” he said. “My directive from The Marshal was to observe. That meant I only heard certain things. There were times William called a special council, but I was excluded like the rest of his guard. But Alpin had been part of those gatherings, which was why we thought he could supply any information I missed.”
It made sense. The life of a spy meant to blend in. Alastor rubbed a hand over his face, struggling to think.
“Berwick has a river,” he muttered. “A river that flows deep into England, the border between England and Scotland.”
Cole nodded. “That is true,” he said. He paused before continuing, his tone ominous. “A river that is deep.”
“How deep?”
“Deep enough to accommodate longships.”
Alastor looked at him, surprised. “God’s Bones,” he said. “Do you suppose that was what he meant?”
Cole lifted his shoulders. “It is possible,” he said. “My father’s methods were brutal, so it is a tribute to Canmore’s self-control that he didn’t mention Berwick to him, but the wine… he must have had just enough of it, as you said. Enough that he let Berwick slip. That was something I did not know.”
Alastor sighed heavily. “Then it must be Berwick,” he said. “Sometime in the summer, those longships will come to Berwick.”
That realization wasn’t lost on Cole. In fact, he felt a sense of urgency about it because it made perfect sense. If there was to be an invasion by the Northmen, the River Tweed would be a perfect vessel for their onslaught. It would cut England and Scotland in half and they could bombard and attack from the river. They could even bring Scotsmen on those longships and launch them into England that way.
The possibilities were endless.
“I must send word not only to my father, but to William Marshal,” he said. “He will want to know.”
“Who does Berwick Castle belong to these days?” Alastor asked. “Do you suppose the garrison commander is in league with the Scots?”
Cole cast him a long look. “You do not know?”
Alastor shook his head. “Berwick is a far enough away that I do not normally concern myself with the town,” he said. “Carlisle is the largest city nearest to me and that is where I focus my attention. Why? What is happening with Berwick?”
Cole lifted his eyebrows. “You are not going to like the answer,” he said. “King Richard sold Berwick to the Scots right before he went on crusade to raise money for his armies. It has belonged to the Scots ever since.”
Alastor shook his head with regret. “I knew of that,” he said. “But that was twenty years ago. I suppose I was hoping against hope that it was again an English garrison after all these years.”
“It is not.”
“Then the Scots at the garrison will make it easy for the longships to enter the river.”
“And straight into the heart of England.”
That was the truth of it. Even as Cole spoke the words, he felt as if he’d just been hit by a hammer. Everything they’d wanted to know had just become clear.
Unless, of course, it was a diversion to throw them off the path of the true plans.
But Cole didn’t think Canmore was that smart.
“I must tell my father,” he repeated. “And unless we want the Scots at Berwick to openly welcome the Northmen, we are going to have to gain control of that castle before the summer months arrive.”
Alastor looked at him. “I will pledge my army for that purpose,” he said. “Tell me what more you need, Cole. I will do what I can to support the efforts.”
“I will,” Cole said. “I will send word to my father tonight. I would not be surprised if he came to The Keld to discuss the situation with you.”
“I would be honored by his visit.”
There wasn’t much more to say at that point. They both knew the implications. What Ajax de Velt’s army couldn’t accomplish, some strong wine could. As Alastor went after his sons to inform them of his discussion with Cole about Berwick, Cole headed out to find Addax and Essien to tell them the same thing. There was a great deal at stake and no time to waste.
Alpin Canmore’s death wouldn’t be in vain.
He told the English what they wanted to know, and they would be ready.
Or die trying.
CHAPTER FIVE
That evening’s feast wasn’t like any other.
Tonight, it was different.
At least, that’s how Corisande felt as she gazed out over the packed great hall. It was full of men, feasting and laughing and drinking, and the enormous hearth was spitting more smoke into the room than was probably going up the chimney, so a fine haze of blue smoke hung up near the ceiling.
In spite of what had happened that afternoon, the mood of the hall was one of gaiety. As if a man hadn’t burned to death in Alastor’s hearth, a man who had been key to much of the political winds that were blowing in their direction. As Corisande looked out over the hall, it was as if the men of The Keld hadn’t a care in the world.
At least, that was the attitude of the rank and file. On the dais, however, the mood was a quite different. Those men knew what had transpired earlier in the day because they’d been part of it, so they were a bit more subdued.
Perhaps reflecting on what the future would bring.
“Who are those men with Papa?”
The question came from Corisande’s younger sister, and the youngest de Bourne sibling, Gaia. She had seen ten years and eight and was newly returned from fostering at Prudhoe Castle. Corisande had only seen her youngest sister intermittently over the past seven years until her return home a few months ago, so the sisters were still coming to know one another as grown women. But Corisande knew one thing for certain –
Her sister was man-crazy.
She was a pretty little thing, too, petite and blonde as their mother had been. Already, she was giving Alastor and her older brothers fits because she would flirt and tease, and then her father and brothers would have to rush in to fend off the men she had been toying with. There was one squire in particular, one who had served with distinction for a few years, who Gaia would not leave alone. The poor young man had been the object of her attention since her return to The Keld and three weeks ago, Alastor finally sent the lad south to an ally’s home simply to get him away from his man-eating daughter.
Now, Gaia was already eyeing the visitors to The Keld, Cole de Velt included, and Corisande knew there was going to be trouble.
Gaia had little restraint when she saw a man she found attractive.
“Those men are important allies,” she said. “They are here on serious business with Papa and you will not embarrass him. No winking, smiling, or pinching, Gaia. Do you understand?”
Gaia looked at her sister, frowning. “What has happened to you?” she said. “You used to be much more fun when we were younger. When did you become so serious?”