“Then you will find another Elizabeau and another prince,” Rhys murmured. “Lords and kings have been doing such a thing for a thousand years. All of it will not end with Elizabeau. Life, and England, will go on without her. But I cannot.”
David looked at him as if he had lost his mind. But at the same time, his sister-in-law’s words came crashing down on him, you would border on madness just as much as Rhys if something was to happen to Emilie. God help him, he knew it was the truth. He would not want to live. He had such power at the moment; the power to give another man such happiness as most would never know. It was betrayal of his brother’s cause and it was dishonesty at its best. But he knew, as he lived and breathed, that it was the right thing to do. In hindsight, he’d known it all along. He could feel himself relenting.
“Please, David,” Rhys begged as the voices from the castle sounded as if they were just on the other side of the wall. “Please help us….”
David unsheathed his broadsword in one hand, still carrying Lawrence’s crossbow with the other. He marched over to Rhys and Elizabeau, astride the big red charger, nearly pushing Geist out of his way in his haste. His pale blue eyes were fixed on Rhys.
“All right,” he muttered, his gaze moving between the two of them. “I’ll do as you ask. But this had better not come back to haunt me.”
Rhys almost collapsed with relief. “It will not, I swear it.”
David acknowledged him, feeling guilty and elated at the same time. “You and Elizabeau were beheaded and your bodies burned,” he said quietly, quickly. “Although I did not see it directly, that was what I was told. And Lawrence… Lawrence was killed trying to save you.”
Rhys smiled faintly at the man’s wisdom in all things. It took a strong man to make a decision of the heart, and to also ensure that another man’s memory would always be fondly remembered to those he had served with. It would benefit no one to know of Lawrence’s treachery. Christopher thought of him as a friend, and a friend would be how he remembered him. He would also remember Rhys as a friend and loyal knight as well, killed in the line of duty. It was the best thing for them all.
While Rhys struggled to come to terms, Elizabeau reached out to touch David’s hand again. There were tears in her eyes. “There is no gratitude strong enough,” she murmured. “God bless you, David de Lohr. God bless you for this.”
Uncomfortable, and the least bit emotional, David smacked the charger on the rear, driving the animal through the grass. “Take care of each other,” he called after them. “And for God’s sake, be happy.”
Rhys waved a hand at him in response as he dug his heels into the charger and the beast tore off towards the north where a grove of trees waited to shield and embrace them. David watched until the voices from the castle were too close for comfort before bolting in the opposite direction, taking Geist with him.
“So what do we do now?” Geist was running like the wind beside him, huffing and puffing. “Will you tell your brother what you told Rhys?”
David leapt over the overgrown grass, wondering when the arrows were going to come flying off the walls at them.
“I will tell him exactly what you heard,” he breathed as they raced towards a cluster of oak to shield themselves from flying projectiles. “And you had better take the secret to the grave with you or the grave will come much sooner than you think.”
Geist wasn’t offended. “I am just as guilty as you in this,” he almost tripped in the grass but caught himself. “I will not betray this secret.”
“Not even Conrad must know.”
“You have my word. He will know only what you tell your brother.”
Bolting through the trees and finally onto the road leading south, David and Geist continued running until they were both thoroughly exhausted. They kept waiting for the king’s soldiers to come charging out of the castle at them, but so far, there was no hostile posse on their tail. When it finally became apparent that they were well out of range of the archers and out of eyesight of the castle, David slowed to a walk and the skinny Teutonic knight beside him. Breathing heavily, Geist cast him a long glance.
“You are a good man, Sir David,” he said, coughing for breath. “You have made my lord a very happy man and for that, I thank you.”
David nodded faintly, looking up to see a knight he recognized racing towards them on the dusty road. Rod de Titouan approached at a gallop, a big man on a silver charger, and David suddenly realized how news of his brother’s death would affect the man. Rod and Rhys were as close as David and Christopher were and he knew, without a doubt, how much his brother’s death would destroy him. As Rod drew closer, David realized that he was already about to break his vow. He knew there was one other person who would take the secret to the grave; the secret of Rhys and Elizabeau.