“Your son seemed to spend a good deal of time away from Netherghyll Castle,” he said. “My lord, I will tell you what I have heard and what I have seen, and then mayhap you can understand why we were so displeased with your son. Rumor had it that there was a woman in Berwick that had Steffan’s attention, so he was a frequent visitor to the city. That is where he saw my niece, Isabella, and he made the decision to pursue her. He began showing up at Castle Questing, seat of the de Wolfe empire, asking to speak to Isabella. Her father, who is my uncle also, was unimpressed with your son and his reputation, but Isabella was quite fond of him. The more he denied your son, the more Isabella wanted to see him. You can imagine how these things go, my lord. I have three daughters myself. When they want something, it is difficult for a father not to comply.”
Gilbert nodded, wiping at his eyes. “I understand,” he said quietly. “Please continue.”
“Isabella was enamored with him,” Nat said. “Servants saw them in the garden in a compromised position and that made its way back to her father. The fact that they were betrothed was the only thing that kept her father from killing your son. You do realize that Blayth de Wolfe is one of the most fearsome warriors in the north, do you not?”
Gilbert nodded weakly. He was quite pale, the shock of his son’s death sinking deep now. “I know of him,” he said. “He did not kill my son, yet my son is dead.”
“That is because he ran away on the day of the wedding,” Nat said. “He was a coward, my lord. As Tor told you, we tracked him to Newcastle. When he was confronted, instead of admitting his wrongs, he fought with us. He was killed when he tried to kill a young squire.”
Gilbert looked at him in disbelief. “A squire?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Not even a knight?”
“Nay, my lord.”
Gilbert grunted, closing his eyes to the shame if it all. At this point, wine and food was being brought forth and Gilbert grabbed at the nearest pitcher, pouring himself an overflowing cup and drinking nearly the entire contents. Tor took only the drink while Nat took food as well, as he hadn’t been treated to a fine meal earlier in the day. Tor had been so taken with Isalyn during their meal together, he had totally forgotten his promise of food for Nat. As they watched de Featherstone reconcile himself to his son’s cowardly death, a heavily armed knight entered the hall.
Both Tor and Nat stopped what they were doing, watching the incoming knight with suspicion. That was normal when heavily armed men faced one another, and were strangers to each other, but Gilbert lifted a hand.
“Be at ease,” he told Tor and Nat. “This is Fraser le Kerque, a knight who serves me. He is my only knight, but he commands the small army of men who protect me and my goods. Fraser, this is Sir Tor de Wolfe and Sir Nat Hage.”
Fraser was just nearing the table as Gilbert made the introductions. He was a big man, handsome, with a square jaw, black hair, and pale blue eyes. He looked at Tor and Nat with a good deal of concern, clearly curious as to why they were here.
“De Wolfe?” he repeated. “Castle Questing?”
Tor shook his head. “Blackpool,” he said. “It is north of here.”
Fraser nodded. “I know,” he said. “We heard that de Wolfe now occupies it.”
“For eight years now.”
Fraser dipped his head politely. “Then it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance,” he said, but his attention returned to Gilbert. “My lord, I have just been told that Lady Isalyn has returned. How long has she been here?”
Gilbert held up a weary hand. He didn’t want to deal with his headstrong daughter’s behavior at the moment but was forced to by necessity.
“Not long,” he said. “She was in Haltwhistle. These good knights escorted her home.”
Fraser looked between Tor and Nat again, and it was apparent that he was fighting off a wicked surge of annoyance. But to his credit, he remained calm even though he had been out for hours, searching for the errant daughter of his liege. With a heavy sigh, he set his helm onto the table near Nat and began to remove his heavy gloves.
“I see,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I have been all over the countryside looking for her and she was in Haltwhistle all along?”
Gilbert nodded. “At least she did not go far this time.”
“It seems that all I have done since she arrived is chase her all over this valley, my lord.”
Gilbert had no energy to show any concern for that situation. “She will return to London soon and we shall no longer be concerned for her,” he said. “But, Fraser… these knights have come bearing news of Steffan.”
“What of him?”
“He is dead.”
Fraser’s eyes widened for a brief moment, but he controlled himself. His attention moved to Tor, sitting across from Gilbert.
“What happened?” he asked steadily.
Tor simply repeated what he’d told Gilbert. “He entered into a betrothal with a de Wolfe daughter,” he said. “He chose to flee the day of the wedding and when we caught up to him, he chose to fight rather than be forced into honoring his word. He lost the fight.”
Fraser didn’t seem surprised by that statement in the least, but he was shocked by the news. He ended up sitting in the nearest chair, trying not to appear as stunned as he felt. After a few moments, he finally shook his head.
“Far be it for me to speak ill of the dead, but this is not shocking news,” he said. “Steffan did as Steffan pleased.”
Gilbert looked over him. “Not now, Fraser.”
But Fraser ignored his plea. “My lord, Steffan made no secret of that fact,” he said. “He has shamed the de Featherstone name time and time again, now with the House of de Wolfe. God’s Bones, do you realize how powerful they are? They could destroy us with very little effort. And your son has affronted the house? Have you asked them what they wish for compensation?”
He wasn’t being belligerent, simply forthright. Tor took his question seriously.
“We have asked for no compensation,” he said. “We have not come to demand it. We have come to inform Lord de Featherstone that his son has been killed and that we have brought him home.”
Both Gilbert and Fraser looked at him sharply. “Home?” Gilbert said sharply. “Where is he?”
“On my horse.”
Gilbert’s mouth popped open again. “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “I came out into the bailey… I came because my daughter had been brought home… are you telling me that Steffan is on the back of your horse?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“I was that close to him?”
“Aye, my lord.”
He bolted up from his chair. “Then I must retrieve him at once. At once!”
Fraser was on his feet, as were Tor and Nat. Gilbert was muttering to himself, something about collecting his son, and began to scurry from the hall. Fraser was on his heels and because they were nearly running, Tor and Nat were nearly running as well. Everyone was nearly running at that point.
By the time they reached the entry door, they began to hear the screams.
CHAPTER FIVE