There was no arguing with him, as his mind was made up. Fighting off a grin at Tab’s chivalrous behavior, Nicola obediently went to the door just as her son had asked. When she quit the room, Tab followed her onto the dark landing beyond and shut the door behind his mother. He was the first one down the stairs as she followed.
The third floor of the keep was very quiet, as it had been since Kenton and his men had departed, and the smile faded from Nicola’s face as she was once again reminded of his absence and of what she had done. Gazing into the two empty chambers on this level, the ones that the knights had once used, left her feeling sick and hollow. At some point, she simply couldn’t look at the rooms anymore; the longer she stared at them, remembering who was once in them, the more sickened she became.
Nicola and Tab made their way down the great staircase to the entry level below, their senses heightened and their manner cautious. The hall to their left and the solar straight ahead seemed to be empty and they couldn’t hear any voices, nor any sounds except those coming from outside. Quickly, Nicola hurried through the dark, smelly hall and to the alcove at the far end that led to the kitchen where she found Hermenia out in theyard bent over a steaming pot of grainy porridge. When the old cook saw her mistress, she crowed with delight.
“M’lady!” she gasped. “Ye survived the onslaught!”
Nicola nodded as the old woman reached out to grasp her hand, kissing it, and Tab went to the pot to see if there was anything interesting cooking inside. He stuck his finger into the bubbling gruel, hissing when he burned it. He sucked the gruel off his burned finger as Nicola pulled him away from the scalding pot.
“We were safe in our chambers all night,” she told the cook. “And you? Where did you spend the night?”
The old woman pointed to the kitchen. “In there,” she said. “I bolted all of the doors so no one could get in, but they found me this morning and told me to feed the men. I asked what men and they said I was to feed the army. My lady, these men are sworn to Edward. There is a new army here after last night.”
Nicola looked around the yard, noting that it seemed untouched and unchanged from the last time she saw it. No looting, no destruction. The sheep that she and Kenton had purchased were still over in their corral, munching on their feed, and right next to the corral was the postern gate. She stared at the gate a moment, remembering her role in the recapture of Babylon. It had been pivotal, for without her, none of this would have happened. Depressed, she forced herself to turn away.
“I know,” she muttered. “I must find the commander and discover what is to become of Babylon. We are back in Edward’s hands now and I must know what their plans are.”
Hermenia nodded, pointing to the gate that led from the kitchen yard out into the inner ward. “A knight was just here,” she said. “He was the one who told me to feed the men. He can’t have gone far.”
She was urging Nicola towards the kitchen yard gate and Nicola took the suggestion. She hurried to the gate with Tab onher heels, both of them peering outside into the inner ward to see what it looked like beyond. It was muddy and they could see signs of damage. Here and there were men sitting against the inner wall either injured or simply resting, but she couldn’t see much more than that.
Timidly, she opened the gate, yanking on it when the hinges stuck. The rusted iron hinges often gave her trouble and when the mud would shift after heavy rain, the gate would sometimes be wedged closed. Fortunately, she was able to squeeze through it, out into the inner ward, as Tab followed close behind.
Nicola was several steps into the inner ward when she realized that Babylon appeared much worse off at eye level than it did from her perch above. The walls weren’t damaged but there were injured men everywhere and the gatehouse was in shambles. She gasped when she saw the great portcullis off-track, hanging at an angle, and there were men she did not recognize trying to fix it. The big gates themselves were wide open and one of them seemed to be unhinged. Men were milling about and there was a group of soldiers, Kenton’s soldiers, who were being corralled.
Shocked at the sight of the devastation, Nicola called to the first soldier she came across.
“Where is your commander?” she demanded. “I am Lady Thorne and this is my home. Take me to your commander immediately.”
The soldier, who had been assigned to collect fallen weapons, eyed Nicola strangely for a moment. She thought he might actually deny her simply by the expression on his face, but after a moment he leaned the used arrows he had been collecting against the wall of the keep and pointed towards the gatehouse.
“He is over there, my lady,” he said.
“Take me to him.”
The soldier turned for the gatehouse without another word. Nicola, grasping Tab’s hand tightly, followed through the muck and mud. She passed by men who were badly wounded and being tended to by other soldiers, but she tried not to look at them. She tried not to look at any of them because every man reminded her of Kenton. Most of the wounded she saw were, in fact, Kenton’s men, and she knew that if they saw her, they more than likely recognized her. Perhaps they even blamed her for what happened. Or perhaps they were hoping she would save them. In any case, she simply couldn’t look at them. She was afraid that if she did, she would weep.
Weep with guilt.
The gatehouse seemed to be the busiest area in the inner ward and the soldier led her through the crowd of men trying to repair the unhinged gate, straight to a big man in armor and shoulder-length blond hair. The soldier muttered something to the armored man, who then looked at Nicola with both surprise and interest. He pushed the soldier aside as he went to her.
“Lady Thorne?” he asked politely.
Nicola eyed the large knight, who was not unhandsome. “Aye,” she replied. “Who are you?”
The knight smiled politely. “I am Brome St. John, commander of Conisbrough Castle,” he said. “We have answered your missive, my lady. I hope we have responded to your liking.”
Nicola sighed, although she tried to cover it. It was simply a reaction to his statement;I hope we have responded to your liking.She couldn’t say what she was thinking, that she wished she’d never sent the damnable message. But she was certainly thinking it.
“Thank you for your response,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound ungrateful for all of the effort. “Then it is safe to say Edward once again controls Babylon?”
Brome nodded. “He does, indeed,” he said, looking to Tab. “And this is your son, my lady?”
Nicola nodded. “This is my eldest son, Tab,” she said. “There are two more boys, younger. You will see them about, too.”
Brome smiled faintly at Tab, who was looking up at him with a great deal of hostility. “You have a fine young man by your side, my lady,” he said, wondering why the child looked as if he wanted to kill him. He tore his eyes off the boy, his expression somewhat hesitant as he fixed on Nicola. “I have not yet seen Lord Thorne. Do you know where I can find him?”
Nicola wasn’t sure what to say, at least in front of Tab. She endured the same question from Kenton those weeks back and she’d physically had to show the man where Gaylord was and she didn’t want to go through that again. The destruction of Gaylord’s tomb had been traumatizing and she was still fearful that Tab would hear whispers of what Kenton’s men had discovered. As she tried to come up with a generic answer, Tab suddenly spoke.