It would have been hardly nothing.
But now that nothing was gone.
Joah was, if nothing else, sly. He knew how to manipulate men and he knew how to concoct a scheme. This entire de Wolfe betrothal had been his idea, after all.
He was going to have to think of something else to get back what he had lost.
The House of de Wolfe had outposts and castles all along the Scottish Marches, including two that were closer to Carlisle. Everyone knew of Rule Water Castle, known as Wolfe’s Lair. That was perhaps their biggest outpost. There was another one they had acquired a couple of years ago near The Lair and Joah remembered this because at the same gathering at Alnwick when King Edward gathered his warlords, he had heard talk of Blackpool Castle and that the de Wolfe family had purchased it.
The House of de Wolfe just got richer and richer.
Joah wasn’t sure who the garrison commander was, but surely it was another de Wolfe. Perhaps if he made his way to Blackpool, which was about one hundred miles directly north, he could pose as an injured allied knight and seek shelter. The land up there was fairly remote, so perhaps there would be an opportunity for him to seek a little retribution against those who had ruined his plans and killed his lover. If not, then he’d move on to the next de Wolfe property and seek opportunities there. After twenty years as a de Royans knight, he was ready to move on.
He was finished with Netherghyll.
More than that, it was time for Joah de Brayton to evolve.
With as big as the de Wolfe family was, perhaps he could find a bride amongst them. Where Steffan had failed, he would not.
He was going to make them pay.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Featherstone
“Is this usual?”
The question came from Tor. On a misty morning, with a heavy layer of dew covering the countryside, Tor and Fraser stood in the muddy courtyard of Featherstone, waiting for their horses to be brought out.
“Aye,” Fraser said, resignation in his voice. “Ever since Lady Isalyn arrived, she has thrown all of Featherstone into turmoil. She is used to doing as she pleases and sees no need for an escort in anything she does. She doesn’t even see any reason to tell anyone where she is going.”
Tor wasn’t surprised to hear that and Fraser sounded genuinely worried. “She is a woman of independence,” he said. “I recall hearing stories of my grandmother also being a woman of independence, escaping my grandfather and doing as she pleased.”
“And your mother?”
Tor shook his head. “My mother also,” he said. “The grandparents I speak of are my father’s parents. My mother, however, was a strong and forceful woman. She did as she pleased no matter what my father said. Unfortunately, it cost her in the end.”
Fraser looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
Tor could see the stable servants bringing out Enbarr and Fraser’s long-legged stallion through the mist. “She wanted to go on a visit after heavy rains and my father tried to discourage her,” he said. “She decided to go regardless of his advice and her carriage was lost in a river. She drowned alongside my younger brother and younger sister, an aunt, and two cousins. It took my father years to come to terms with what had happened. He once said he wished he had forbidden her to go on that day. Not that it would have mattered; she probably would have gone, anyway.”
Fraser’s expression of curiosity turned to one of sympathy. “That is a terrible story,” he said. “I am sorry for you.”
Tor nodded politely. “Thank you, but it was a long time ago,” he said. “I think my point was that strong women often run into trouble because they do not know what is good for them, so I will help you look for Lady Isalyn on my way home. I have to go through Haltwhistle, anyway.”
“What about your cousin, Nat?”
Tor grunted. “He drank too much last night,” he said. “He is sleeping it off, still. He will head back to Castle Questing when he feels better, so we do not travel in the same direction.”
“Questing is quite far north.”
“About eighty miles. It will take him a few days at the very least.”
The horses were brought around and the knights mounted up, heading out into the cold, misty dawn. Yesterday’s rainstorm had turned the road into a swamp, so they mostly traveled on the shoulder because there were some massive puddles to avoid.
The ride was silent for the first several minutes. Tor was thinking ahead to the Crown and Sword, wondering if that was where Isalyn had gone, when Fraser broke into his thoughts.
“My lord, I must say something, if you will indulge me,” he said.
Tor looked at him curiously. “Speak.”
“I must apologize for Steffan’s actions,” Fraser said hesitantly, as if he weren’t sure he should speak on such a matter. “If Lord Gilbert has not, I will. Steffan was a complicated and difficult man. He has caused his father much grief, so do not judge the entire family by Steffan. He is not representative of Gilbert.”
Tor glanced at him. “Lord de Featherstone is not being judged, at least not by my family,” he said. “You needn’t worry.”
“Thank you, my lord. May I tell Gilbert that?”
Tor nodded, but his gaze lingered on the black-haired, blue-eyed knight who seemed proper and professional. He had since the beginning of their association and Tor was growing curious about him. It seemed to him like such a knight should be serving in a big house with a big army, not serving a wealthy merchant. There was a definite division of class there.
“What is your story, le Kerque?” he asked. “Not to be nosy, but you seem far more loyal to Gilbert than his own son. Steffan was a knight and did not even serve his father.”
Fraser nodded. “I know,” he said, somewhat quietly. “Steffan did not wish to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a merchant, so Gilbert paid Lord de Shera of The Paladin near Chester to train Steffan as a knight. He went to foster there at twelve years of age, very old for that kind of training, but he learned quickly.”
Tor’s eyebrows lifted. “The Paladin?” he repeated. “That is a prestigious castle and the House of de Shera is very powerful. So that’s where Steffan trained?”
“He did.”
“How did you come to serve Gilbert?”
Fraser smiled wryly. “My family is an old one,” he said. “Once, we were wealthy, but now all we have is our good name. The fortune was gone long ago. My father used it to obtain a position for me in the House of de Winter. I trained at Norfolk Castle and my reputation is without compare, but I have a fortune to build. When my father dies, I will inherit Welton Castle, but only the property and the title of Lord Faldingworth. There is nothing else – no money, no wealth to speak of. Therefore, I serve the lord who pays me the most.”
“De Featherstone?”
Fraser nodded. “He is quite wealthy. The money he pays is better than most.”
Tor couldn’t fault the man for doing what he had to do. “Do you see much action?”
Fraser gave him a long look before snorting. “With de Featherstone?” He shook his head. “I’ve been with him for a few years and have yet to see a serious battle. I drill the small contingent he has constantly so our skills stay sharp, but I will be truthful. I wish I was back with de Winter or served some other great house, like de Wolfe. I miss the camaraderie of other knights and I miss the smell of battle. I miss doing what I was born to do. With de Featherstone… there is little action. I am a guard dog and little more.”