“For this,” he whispered. “La lealtà alla morte. Onorare soprattutto.”
The sledgehammer hit. Garren was confused and suspicious. Had Fergus been an agent for William, Garren would have known long ago. Or perhaps he wouldn’t; there were those in service that even Garren didn’t know about. Something wasn’t right and his guts churned with dread. It occurred to him that the probing Fergus had been doing was for a definitive reason, an overshadowing motive that Garren was slowly coming to understand. Something told him not to respond.
“What does that mean?”
“Your phrase, my friend.”
“The last I recall, I don’t speak Italian.”
“You are obligated to respond.”
“Fergus, what are you talking about?”
Fergus gazed at him without saying a word. Then, he smiled weakly. “Nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. In fact, it is best you do not respond.”
“Why not?”
“Because… well, because ‘tis best, that’s all. I do not want to know that you know what I know.”
Garren could have done of two things at that moment; he could have continued his ignorant charade, or he could have let his guard down. He had known Fergus far too well and long to let it go.
“What in the hell are you talking about, Fergus?” he rumbled.
Fergus shrugged weakly. “Nothing, my friend. Nothing at all. ‘Tis simply… stay away from Chepstow, and stay away from Chateroy. Stay here, with your wife. ‘Tis the best place for you.”
Garren felt as if he were walking the edge of a cliff, unwilling to look down, but being inexplicably drawn towards the danger. “I cannot stay here,” he said, wanting off the subject, unbalanced by the entire conversation. “My only concern, beyond my father, is that Derica is protected in my absence.”
Fergus nodded. “I will protect her with my life. You know that.”
“I know that,” Garren said. “But it shan’t be for long. I shall return as soon as I can.”
“Christ, I hope not,” Fergus muttered.
“What’s that you say?”
“Nothing,” Fergus said quickly. “And if you do not return, Garren? What then?”
Garren forgot about the past few moments of conversation, Fergus’ oddly murmured words. He looked at Fergus as his oldest, closest friend. “Then I will trust you to take care of her, for all time. Will you do this for me?”
“Without question.”
Garren left without another word.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He thundered in at dusk of the second day. Even from a distance away, Garren could see that the ambiance of Chepstow had changed. A heavy blanket of smoke hung over the castle and he knew that could only mean one thing; either Chepstow was under siege or there was an army in residence.
Fortunately for him, it was the lesser of the possibilities. Many of the men at arms recognized him as he pounded into the bailey, as they were loyal to the Marshal and had fought under Garren’s command many a time. Somewhat perplexed as to the purpose of the amassing army, he tried to appear as if their presence was nothing new to him as he stowed his horse and made his way, somewhat wearily, into the keep. He was increasingly apprehensive of what he would find.
It was busier than usual inside. Commanders and noblemen that he recognized greeted him. Garren had to admit it was good to see the familiar faces. The Marshal was found in a sea of officers, clustered two deep around his table in the solar. There were plans on the table, and a map. When the old blue eyes lifted at the movement in the doorway, Garren saw the wave of surprise, then a flash of anger, then massive relief.
“Garren,” William pushed his way between armored men in his haste to get to him. “Thank God, you have come.”
Garren accepted the outstretched hand, unusual for the old man. He wasn’t the warm kind. It was a gesture that put him on his guard.
“My lord,” he was suddenly torn between the guilt of what he’d done and the gladness of seeing him again. “I came as soon as I was able.”
The Marshal’s pale eyes glittered at him, reprovingly, suspiciously. “Of course,” he took Garren by the elbow. “Come with me. I would speak with you privately a moment.”
That was not an unusual occurrence, and the men in the solar let them go without a thought. William pulled Garren into the adjoining room, a small chamber used by the servants, and closed the door. When he faced Garren again, the warmth was gone from his face and Garren felt the chill.
“Now,” William grumbled. “I give you two minutes to satisfactorily explain to me what has happened over the past few weeks.”