Twenty-nine
“Take this to King Henry and hand it to no other,” Hugh ordered the knight standing afore him. “Do not fail me!”
“Aye, Sir Hugh,” the man said with a short bow afore running towards his horse. He leapt into the saddle with a mighty swiftness like the devil himself was chasing after him. The messenger never gazed back as he galloped out into the cold starry night.
Hugh turned to the group of men who huddled near the fire, trying to find some warmth from the flames. He stooped down, grabbed another couple of logs, and threw them into the pit. The small sparks flittered upwards, disappearing into the evening sky. A mug was given to him and he downed its contents whilst his cousin stood beside him, perusing him warily in silence.
“What?” Hugh asked, clearly annoyed at the silence between them.
“The king, Hugh?” Gilbert questioned shortly. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you get the king involved?”
“The keep should be mine. I shall show King Henry how Dristan is not fit to see to such an important holding as Berwyck,” he declared sullenly.
“Damnation Hugh! I swear you shall see us all dead with this scheme of yours,” Gilbert protested.
“Do not question my motives again. Cousin or no, I will let no man stand in my way in my desires to have the keep!” Hugh warned, and flicked his wrist to dismiss the irritating man afore him. His patience at an end, he began to pace back and forth, muttering all along about life’s injustice and how he would prove his worth to the king and earn himself a title.
There was only the briefest of an instant where Hugh’s thoughts went to Sabina afore turning to her sister. With the coolness of the evening sharpening his senses, he went to sit and warm himself by the fire. His demeanor sparkled in pleasure, thinking of all the ways he envisioned taking Amiria once she was beneath him in his bed.
Aye, Berwyck Castle would belong to him, and all would be calling him Lord Hugh afore the fortnight was over. He could hardly wait ’til he took the keep as his own, but more importantly made his claim on a certain red haired hellcat. With his vile mirth ringing out into the forest, he turned from the fire and bedded down most contently for what remained of the night.
Gilbert threw up his hands in disgust and went to find a place to make his bed whilst trying to digest what he had gotten himself into. He scrutinized Hugh whilst his cousin at last quit his frantic pacing and lay down next to the fire. He groaned out loud. There was nothing to gain from sending a missive to the king except mayhap a noose stretched tight about one’s neck!
His unrelenting scrutiny of the dilemma gave him no answers, as he tossed sticks into the quickly disintegrating red hot orange flames at his feet. Mayhap I should head to France, he mulled over to himself. At least there he would have a ready wench to serve his needs and no cousin grumbling about the unfairness of his sorry life.
Good Lord above! May the saints save and preserve me from my imbecile of a cousin, he thought, cringing. A message to the king indeed. A cold chill blew across the back of Gilbert’s neck and raced down his spine like the forewarning of an executioner’s axe in his near future. With a bit of luck and fortune on his side, mayhap they would show some leniency and he would not, at the very least, have to dig his own grave.
“Sabina, come to bed.” Lynet stifled a yawn as she called to her. “’Tis late.”
“Leave me be!” Sabina cried out. “I need not you or any other telling me what to do!”
“I was only trying to help, so suit yourself. I care not if you do not rest properly,” Lynet said, turning on her side, away from her sibling. She punched her pillow and closed her eyes.
“Go to sleep,” Sabina muttered, annoyed she still shared a chamber with her sister.
She began to rock back and forth on the stool she was perched upon as if that would help solve the problem of having a child growing within her and still being unwed. She must have speech with Hugh afore any further time comes to pass. Wringing her hands together, over and over again, brought her no answers. She was aware Hugh had left the keep for parts unknown. Surely someone must know of his whereabouts.
Tomorrow, I shall find him, she thought, as her mind schemed to bring him to heel and do what was right by her and her babe. He was a knight after all. Surely he would keep his oath to protect those under his care. Did knights now make such a solemn vow upon their knighthood to do such rot? She scratched her head in indecision on what path to take to bring him to wed with her.
As she crawled between the covers next to her sister, it never occurred to Sabina that Hugh would not want to claim her as his bride. She closed her eyes with visions of Hugh as her husband and the joy she would see in him when he learned of their child.