Medieval Master Swordsmen(435)
“Where is Fergus?” he demanded.
“In the hall, I think. Is something wrong?”
Emyl could only shake his head as he moved in the direction of the hall. “News. My son must hear of this.”
David put the grain and vegetables in the kitchen. He went to find Offa and the two of them hurried to the hall. Emyl was sitting on a bench, wiping his forehead again and huffing about his age. Fergus, who had been mending a stool, sat on the table beside his father.
“You’re sure about this, Da?”
“Sure enough.”
Offa spoke. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“News,” Emyl said. “I heard in town. There were Welsh knights, talking to the smith.”
“What news?”
The old man fixed the small group with a heady gaze. “A big battle, Richard against John. All the armies of the empire have been called to fight against each other.”
The implication was not lost on Fergus; his eyes closed for a moment as if to ward off the very idea of it. “So it has begun.”
“Aye, it has. And there is more. William Marshal rallied a huge army from the south and met John’s mercenaries at Tick Hill Castle. It was an enormous battle with many lives lost. John’s loyalists have captured thirteen castles about England’s midsection and Richard’s armies are struggling to regain ground lost. All of England is in turmoil.”
Now, it all made sense. Fergus knew exactly where Garren was; if he wasn’t dead already, he was in the middle of the great bloody war that had gripped the country. Feelings of dread and guilt swept him.
“How long has this been going on?” he asked.
“Since July.”
Fergus ran a weary hand across his face, his thoughts racing. As a knight, he knew his only course of action would be to find the Marshal’s army, find Garren, and join the fighting. But William Marshal had ordered him to watch over Derica. There was also the small matter of promising Garren that he would take care of his wife. Still, Derica had three men willing and able to see to her every need, and if the civil war was indeed raging, then the likelihood of Garren forsaking his duties to come back to Derica was slim.
Fergus had carried out his mission for the Marshal, in his opinion. Besides, he never could have truly killed her. The Marshal would have been wiser to assign that task to someone who hadn’t known Garren like a brother. Now, the civil war they had feared for years was finally bearing fruition and Fergus knew where his place should be, as it had been many times; beside Garren in battle.
“Do we know where the fiercest fighting is at present? Did the Welsh knights say?”
“Northamptonshire, they say,” Emyl replied. “Seems that John’s loyalists are embedded at Rockingham Castle. Damn big place. Richard’s army is trying to unseat them and regain the castle.”
Fergus nodded in thought. The news was probably a few weeks old. The only thing to do would be to ride to Chepstow to find out what he could, and then follow the trail from there. He began to move as Emyl and the others watched him with closely.
“Where do you go?” Emyl demanded.
Fergus found his leather jerkin. “I go to war.”
“Why?” the old man was distressed. “This is not your war, son.”
Fergus looked at his father. “There are many things you do not know, things which I have not explained to you. Since I do not have the time, suffice it to say that any war of Richard’s is a war of mine. It is also a war of Garren’s and I can promise you that he has been in the midst of the fighting since it began.”
The others passed glances between them. “What do you mean? He was to go to his father’s aid against the de Rosas.” Emyl said.
Fergus sighed, wondering how much he should tell them. “It is possible that he has. But my suspicion is that he is involved in the civil war now enveloping the county. I must go and help him.”
His explanation only left them more confused. There was some bickering and chatter as Fergus gathered his possessions, only to turn to the doorway to see Derica standing there. From the expression on her face, Fergus knew she had heard far more than she should of. He silently cursed himself for not noticing her until this moment.
His manner softened dramatically. “How much did you hear, love?”
She stared at him. “Where are you going? What has happened to my husband?”
Fergus was truthful, yet he also wanted to reassure her very much that what he was doing was in her and Garren’s best interest. “England is erupting into civil war,” he said plainly. “If you know about your husband, and I suspect you do, then you know he is involved. I must go and help him. I do this so that he may return to you. Do you understand?”