“My father is dead,” the boy said without emotion.
Nicola gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment as she turned to her son. But Tab was looking seriously at Brome, who gazed back at the boy with curiosity as well as disbelief.
“Dead?” Brome repeated. Then, he looked to Nicola. “Is this true, my lady?”
Nicola heard the question but she was looking at Tab, having no idea what to say to him. Was the boy simply making excuses for his missing father? Or did he truly know the man was dead? There was only one way to find out.
“Why would you say such a thing, Tab?” she asked, great emotion in her voice. “Your father has not been at Babylon for several months, that is true, but why would you say he is dead?”
Tab looked to his mother and it seemed to Nicola that there was no innocence left in his face at all. Just as he was trying to bea man by escorting her and declaring to protect her from harm, it seemed as if Tab had done a good deal of growing in a very short amount of time as of late.
If she thought about it, hard, it all seemed to start when Kenton began spending some time around him, helping him learn to fish or otherwise paying attention to the lad. Perhaps Kenton’s influence not only spread over her, but over her boys as well. They knew him to be a man of his word, a man who did not beat their mother as their father had, and someone who had taken time with them. Through the eyes of a child, Kenton was someone to be admired and emulated. Young Tab was emulating perhaps the only hero he’d ever known as her little boy tried to become a man.
“Because he is,” Tab said to his mother, without any hint of distress. “I know that Papa is buried in the chapel.”
His words were like an arrow to Nicola’s heart. She completely ignored Brome as she knelt beside her son, grasping the boy by the arms. Her touch was gentle but unmistakably supportive as she tried to determine just how much he knew and what, in fact, she should say to him. Gazing into his green eyes, she didn’t see much point in continuing the lie.
He knew.
“How do you know?” she asked softly. “I never told you.”
Tab wasn’t clear what had his mother so upset. “Papa was very sick and suddenly he was gone,” he said. “I heard some of Kenton’s knights say they found him in the chapel but I did not say anything because I did not want Teague or Tiernan to know. They still think he is off fighting wars. I know you do not want them to be afraid that Papa is not coming home so we should not tell them until they are older.”
Tears filled Nicola’s eyes at her son being so noble and strong for the sake of his younger brothers, keeping a secret he did not have to keep. It was all so very brave of him. But beneath thatbravery, it began to occur to her that Tab didn’t seem to knowhowhis father died, a result of the wound that Tab himself had inflicted. He had mentioned his father being ill so he knew that much, but it was evident he didn’t knowwhyhis father had taken ill. Therefore, she didn’t venture on to that subject. It was best not to. Even if Tab knew his father was dead, Nicola would take the reasons behind it to her grave.
“I am sorry I did not tell you myself,” she said softly. “I did not want to upset you. I planned on telling you and your brothers when you were a bit older and could understand.”
Tab pondered his mother’s words. After a moment, he shrugged his slender shoulders. “It does not matter,” he said. “Papa wasn’t a nice man sometimes. He hurt you. I stopped him from hurting you the last time.”
Nicola grunted softly, embarrassed that a strange knight was hearing her deepest family secrets. “Aye… you did, Tab,” she insisted weakly. “But that is all over now. We do not have to worry over that any longer.”
Tab watched his mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes. He didn’t like to see her upset but when the subject was his father, she was always upset. He frowned.
“It was better when Sir Kenton was here,” he said. “You didn’t cry at all. When I get bigger, I am not going to fight for Edward like my father did. I am going to fight for Henry with Sir Kenton!”
Nicola gasped, standing up quickly and putting herself between her son and Brome. “Tab!” she gasped, trying to push her rebellious son behind her, out of the man’s wrath. She gazed up at the knight, fear in her eyes. “He… is young and weary of war, my lord. We have seen much of it over the past few weeks. This is our third siege in such time and I am afraid it has worn on him, as it has worn on all of us. Forgive him.”
Brome was fighting off a grin at the very bold Tab Thorne. He’d actually learned a great deal over the past few moments listening to Tab speak of his father and of Sir Kenton. It was clear that the boy had no real love for his father, but he clearly had some manner of feeling for Kenton le Bec. He found that rather odd that a child should speak fondly of an enemy soldier but, then again, he had no way of knowing what had gone on with le Bec’s occupation of Babylon. There could be much more to the story than he was being told.
“He’s an admirer of le Bec, is he?” Brome said after a moment. “I cannot blame him. There is much to be admired with le Bec from a military standpoint. But I must say that, knowing that your husband is dead, it must have been very difficult for you with knights like le Bec holding Babylon. Were you treated fairly, my lady?”
Nicola nodded without hesitation. “Very fairly,” she replied. “Sir Kenton and his men were kind to us.”
Brome bobbed his head as if relieved. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “You were very brave to send the missive to me at Conisbrough, my lady. You risked much.”
I risked my very soul,Nicola thought gloomily. As she looked into Brome’s features, she was suddenly very desperate for news of Kenton; she had to know the depths of horror she had brought down upon Kenton and his men. St. John would be the man to ask.
“Did you capture Sir Kenton, then?” she asked, trying not to sound too curious or eager or desperate. “I told you he was going to Manchester. Did you find him?”
Brome nodded. “I received word from Manchester this morning,” he said. “I am told that le Bec’s army has been routed. It is a complete victory for Edward and you are to thank, my lady. Without you, we could not have defeated le Bec. We owe you much.”
Nicola felt as if she’d been hit in the stomach. “A… a complete victory?” she stammered. “Are… are you sure? Le Bec has been defeated?”
Brome continued to nod. “That is what I have been told,” he said. “You see, my lady, when you sent your missive to Conisbrough, it was full of men who had just come from one of the recent sieges of Babylon. I had at least two thousand men at Conisbrough and when we received your missive, we were able to use the information to plan the defeat of Warwick, and le Bec, once and for all in this area. I sent the majority of the troops to Manchester to fight le Bec’s army while a small contingent of men took Babylon back from within. You were instrumental in that, my lady. I was there when you opened the postern gate for us last night. As I said, we have much to thank you for. We could not have been victorious without you.”
Nicola stared at the man, thinking she had never felt less heroic in her life. Her loyalties and emotions were all mashed up, twisted, only to be spit out in ways she couldn’t clearly decipher. All she knew was that she had made a massive mistake. That was becoming abundantly clear.
She wondered if it was a mistake she could right.