He looked at Alastor.
“Do you have a map of Northumberland that we can examine?” he asked.
Alastor nodded wearily, a man resigned to the fact that they really were going to war. Perhaps some part of him hoped it would never come to that, but the threat had come to fruition. As the men crowded around his table, he spread out a well-used map that covered the area from the River Tyne to the River Tweed. It was smudged and torn in places, but it gave a good overview.
The Marshal bent over it.
“Now,” he said. “If what Essien’s friend says is true, and The Rough is moving an army out of Edinburgh for Berwick, they should arrive in the next day or two. That is before we can get there. That means we cannot use the element of surprise and their armies will see us coming. Jax, you have fought the Scots longer than I have. Give me your thoughts.”
Jax folded his big arms across his chest, looking at the map before him. He could see just how close Pelinom was to Berwick and that did not give him any comfort in the least.
It put him right on the edge of the battle.
“Before I left Pelinom, I instructed my son, Julian, to take his mother and sisters away from Pelinom,” he said. “Something told me to remove them. Call it a hunch, I suppose, but Julian and about a hundred men are taking my wife and daughters south to Alnwick Castle. Pelinom is strong, but it cannot stand against thousands of Scots and Northmen, so they are heading south as we speak. As for Berwick, it is my sense that it is a three-pronged attack, meaning we will have three objectives.”
The Marshal was looking at him with interest. “And that would be?”
Jax thumped on the map, next to Berwick. “We have Scots coming from the north,” he said. “We have Berwick Castle, and we have the arriving Northmen. Part of the army needs to engage the Scots to drive them away from Berwick while another part of the army shall go for the castle itself. The remains of the army will sit at the mouth of the River Tweed and prevent the Northmen from entering the river by any means necessary.”
It made perfect sense and The Marshal sighed heavily. “That will take a good many men,” he said. “We have six thousand with us now with an addition five or six thousand still coming north. Maxton, can you send word to Caius to take Richmond’s army directly to Berwick?”
Maxton, standing behind David, nodded. “Aye,” he said. “In fact, I will ride to meet him and come north with him. May I suggest something?”
“Please do.”
“If the Northmen haven’t arrived yet by the time this army reaches Berwick, then you can divide your army into two groups to go after the Scots and after the castle,” he said. “Richmond is big enough to take the mouth of the River Tweed and wait for the Northmen.”
The Marshal cocked an eyebrow. “Providing they move fast enough,” he said. “He is at least two days behind us.”
“We will move faster,” Maxton assured him. “What about Northwood Castle? Are they sending men?”
“I have sent a messenger to Lord Teviot telling him what is happening,” Jax said. “He is sending men to join with Pelinom’s troops. We will have at least fifteen hundred men between the two of us.”
“Excellent,” The Marshal said with some enthusiasm. “That reinforces our numbers greatly. What about Castle Questing? Baron Dudforth has a small army, though the man hasn’t been right in the head since returning from The Levant. Something about a sword he lost on crusade. He’s apparently always looking for it. Jax, do you know the man?”
Jax nodded. “I do,” he said. “He has a fifty-man army, and that’s being generous. Dudforth has one of the largest castles in the north and a tiny army to staff it because no one in their right mind would attack that place. I can say with some certainty that asking him for men would not be to our advantage. He does not have enough to make a difference. There are several other castles in the area, like Wark and Roxburgh, but they belong to the Scots right now.”
The Marshal looked back to the map. “Then we’ll have to make do with what we have,” he said. “But every army that is set to join us must be told to go directly to Berwick. Sherry, can you make sure that happens?”
Alexander nodded. “I will have the missives drawn out within the hour.”
The Marshal glanced up at him. “De Lara, Forbes, de Nerra. They must be told.”
“I will make sure of it.”
The wheels were in motion, everything focusing on Berwick. Alastor stepped away from the table, rubbing his eyes wearily. “Then it is settled,” he said. “I must make sure my army is ready to depart on the morrow, so you will excuse me. I must ensure the provision wagons and quartermaster and surgeon are prepared.”
The Marshal waved him on. “Do what you must,” he said. “I plan to eat and then sleep for a few hours. We shall regroup here two hours before dawn to go over the plan with everyone before departing.”
The group began to fracture, breaking into little clusters of conversation, but Cole remained by the hearth, thinking about the last few words Alastor had spoken.
Provision wagons and quartermaster and surgeon…
That meant Corisande.
He wasn’t going to mention that to Alastor, not in front of everyone, but the more he thought about it, the more opposed he was to her going on a battle march, and possibly into one of the nastiest battles the north had ever seen. He didn’t want her involved in that.
He didn’t want her involved at all.
Over to his left, Christopher and his father were in conversation. He could hear his father ask about Cassian, his youngest son, who had been serving at Lioncross Abbey for a few years. Jax wanted to know if he’d come with Christopher only to be told he’d been left at Lioncross because Christopher had pulled so many of his senior officers with him when the army moved out. Someone had to stay behind and protect Lioncross, he said, and Jax seemed glad. It was bad enough that he had one, and possibly two, sons involved in the battle at Berwick, so leaving his third son behind to be bored but safe… he seemed quite agreeable to that.
He wanted at least one son safe.
And Cole wanted Corisande safe.
Without another word to the men in the solar, he quit the keep in search of a certain blonde he was very much in love with.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
She knew he wasn’t happy.
In fact, he was bloody well furious.
Corisande knew Cole was deeply upset that she was riding with the wagons at the rear of her father’s army, but it couldn’t be helped.
She had a job to do.
The past two days had been a whirlwind. The armies of William Marshal had descended on The Keld and within the space of one night, the army of Castle Keld had been mustered and that included the surgeon’s wagon.
Knowing how Cole felt about her accompanying the army, Corisande had struggled to focus on properly supplying what she needed as a field surgeon. She had been her father’s surgeon for quite some time, as she had told him, and she knew what to do. She knew what she needed and she knew how to organize. But this time was different.
Cole was watching her.
He hadn’t said anything to her about her father’s command to muster the army so quickly. He hadn’t said anything to her about the surgeon’s wagon going along to Berwick with her in it. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all, but he had watched her as she went about her business. She had been moving between the keep and the kitchens and the stable yard where the surgeon’s wagon was located, and everywhere she went, she caught a glimpse of him watching her from afar.