Garren was listening intently. “I do. Then what?”
“Have them bring her here, to me. That way, if her family tracks her, it would lead to the abbey and not even the de Rosa’s would dare breach the sanctity of the abbey. I will keep her here with me until you come for her.”
“Where am I going to be?”
“After you tell the Marshal that you no longer wish to be an agent for the king, you will find a place for you and your wife to live. You cannot run the rest of your lives. Find a place in Scotland or Wales, something well off the path and fortified, and take her there. Swear fealty to whichever king you wish, raise a sizable force and recruit bachelor knights, and live there with your lady for the rest of your life. If that is what you wish, Garren, then make it so.”
Garren just stood there and smiled. “A sound enough plan, madam. How is it that your mind works so?”
“My brother taught me.”
Garren knelt down beside her again, kissing her softly on the cheek. “I am glad to have come to you,” he said softly. “You help me to think clearly when my entire world is in turmoil.”
Gabrielle patted his hand. “You have no time to waste, Garren. I suspect even now that your lady is living anxiously. If she supported you against her family, she cannot be in their good graces. The sooner she is removed from Framlingham, the better. The sooner you are reunited with her, the better.”
Garren collected his saddlebags, his mind was racing with possibilities, of hope, where moments before there had been none. He had another mission now, perhaps greater than any he had ever undertaken. He took his sister’s hand, trying to think of the proper words of gratitude.
“To express my thanks seems quite inadequate,” he said simply.
She waved him off. “None needed, Garren.”
“I do not know when I shall return. I do not know when Derica will arrive. Of the future, I can say nothing for certain. Only that I will do my very best.”
“I know you will. And I shall be prepared for any event. I shall welcome it.”
He gave her hand a squeeze before quitting the room, marching into the early morning light with more purpose he had ever felt in his life. Back in the small chamber, Gabrielle swore she could hear his charger race off even though she knew she could not. She sat there, wondering if she had given him advice that would end his life. But the man’s heart was in turmoil, and she gave the only advice she knew she could.
There was nothing to do now but wait.
*
Garren had knownFergus de Edwin since they had been boys. They had fostered together at Sandhurst Castle and had formed a friendship that had lasted all of these years. They had served together, and at times had gone years without seeing one another, but somehow they always found each other again. Garren knew, in any circumstance, that Fergus was the only man who would postpone his own funeral if Garren needed him. That manner of friendship was few and far between, and Garren valued it.
Fergus was a bachelor knight and something of a free spirit. His fealty shifted from time to time with different lords. His cause also happened to be any cause that Garren had, and at the moment, Garren needed his friend desperately for a cause that he never thought he would support. In this crisis, Garren could only turn to one man.
Fortunately for Garren, he had last heard that his friend happened to be serving Walter de Lacy at Longton Castle in Herefordshire. The nearby village, Haverhill, was a two-day’s ride from Framlingham. Garren had taken a room in a tavern in Haverhill and found a youth to run a message to the castle. It was the middle of the night by the time he sent the message.
He suspected it would be dawn before Fergus arrived, if he was even still at Longton. Having not slept in well over two days, Garren stripped off his armor and fell down on the bed of his rented room. The straw inside the mattress was damp and old, but he didn’t care. He was beyond exhausted and asleep before he realized it.
As a knight, his life depended upon his reflexes. Knights were notorious for sleeping lightly. But the sun was up and there was someone in his room before he was fully oriented. His sword was near his hand and the blade came up. He heard it clang against metal, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a yelp. Rollingoff the opposite side of the bed in a flash, he saw a man with bright blue eyes standing on the other side, rubbing his left arm.
A bolt of relief ran through Garren and he lowered the sword. “Christ,” he muttered. “Fergus, you idiot….”
Fergus stood there, still rubbing his arm. “Did you have to try and cut my head off?” he complained. “You send for me and this is the welcome I receive? Even from you, that is cold.”
Garren tossed the sword on the bed and wearily scratched his head. “What did you expect, sneaking into my room? I will wager that you were standing over me trying to decide how best to smother me as I slept.”
Fergus broke into a wide grin. Garren did the same. The men embraced each other as one would a brother.
“You’re as ugly as ever, Garren.”
“And you’re still as stupid as I remember.” Garren rubbed the sleep out of one eye and indicated the only chair in the room. “Please, sit. So you’re still at Longton, after all?”
Fergus took the chair as Garren lowered himself back onto the bed. Fergus was a nice looking man with brilliant blue eyes and dark blond hair. His teeth protruded slightly and his skin was rough from sun and cold. He shrugged to Garren’s assertion.
“De Lacy is fond of me and pays me well,” he said. “I have no reason to leave yet. And you? Last I heard, you were wandering somewhere between Dover and Hastings.”
“I still am.”