He knew he could not let his only friend die. The man she loved was asking for his help to save her. He knew that he must, above all else for his duty was that of a knight and he had taken an oath to protect the weak and helpless long before he had taken an oath to the king.
“Very well,” he murmured in resignation. “I will do it.”
Christopher nodded to Lawrence, standing beside him, who immediately went on the run for de Wolfe. Edward de Wolfe hadn’t come out with the rest of them because he had been ordered to remain in the hall and protect the occupants of the keep. As Lawrence mounted the steps to the keep two at a time, Christopher turned back to Rhys.
“We move the army out after you leave, with or without de Braose’s five hundred men,” he said. “We will tear through this weather and lay such a siege to Ludlow that God himself will be fearful.”
Rhys nodded. “If nothing else, it will shift their focus from the execution, hopefully delay it entirely. At least until I can get to her.”
“We will do our best to create such a distraction.”
There was nothing more to say; the wheels of something big and critical were in motion. With a lingering glance at Edward, still sitting on the ground, Christopher turned with his men and made his way back to the keep. Rod stood up, brushed the snow off himself, and extended a hand to Radcliffe. Edward looked at the hand, confused, before realizing it was meant to help him up. Hesitantly, he took Rod’s hand and the man yanked him to his feet.
With a lingering look at the strange new knight, Rod followed the rest of the men into the keep, leaving Rhys and Edward standing alone. Rhys seemed lost in thought, still dazed from the information. But the longer he stood there, the more focused and determined he seemed to become.
“How is she?” he finally asked.
Edward was startled by the sound of his voice when it had been so silent between them. He scrambled for a quick reply. “She… she is well, my lord. She is comfortable and well.”
“She has not been harmed at all?”
“Nay,” Edward shook his head. “She has been treated with respect. Even when she tried to escape.”
Rhys looked at him, then. “She has tried to escape?”
“Four times.”
That brought a smile to Rhys’ lips and he shook his head faintly. “I would have expected nothing less. She is a strong, cunning woman.”
“My lord,” Edward took a step towards him timidly. “There is something the lady made me promise to tell you should she not survive.”
Rhys smile vanished, his expression taut with the horror of that thought. His nostrils were flaring. “She will survive,” he rumbled. “But what is it?”
Edward didn’t get too close; he didn’t want the seemingly edgy man to snap at the news he was about to deliver. “She says to tell you that her love for you has grown by the day and her joy in the child she carries has made her entire life worth living. She will die a happy and fulfilled woman because of your love.”
Perhaps no one thought it was possible for Rhys to get any paler, but he was indeed. He grew positively ashen and he stared at Edward until the knight became uncomfortable with the brilliant blue eyes boring into him.
“She… she is with child?” he finally managed to stammer.
Edward nodded. “She kept it hidden well. I only just learned of it. It has made her rather sick to her stomach but in general she is healthy enough.”
Rhys tried to stay on his feet. But with his current mental state and the weight of the news, he ended up on his knees. Concerned, Edward bent over him.
“Are you all right, my lord?” he asked.
Rhys shook his head. Then he nodded. He reclaimed his feet slowly. “My Dear God,” he breathed. “Is it true? Is it really true?”
“It is,” Edward said, watching him closely. “Am I to understand that you did not know?”
He shook his head and almost lost his balance again. “I did not know,” he whispered. “My God….”
“Then I do not have to tell you how important this is,” Edward insisted quietly. “Not only will she lose her life, but the life of the child. They do not know she is pregnant although I doubt it would make any difference.”
Rhys was struggling to compose himself, struggling to keep a thousand horrific thoughts from his mind. “Nay, it would not,” he breathed. “It would make no difference at all.”
Edward watched the man as, with shaking hands, he wiped a gloved hand over his face. He studied him closely, far more intuitively than most men would have. But then again, Edward was not like most men.
“The lady and I spent many hours speaking, simply because there was nothing else to do for either of us during her captivity,” he said softly. “I know that she is to marry a prince.”