[u]Part 39[/u]
Sir Kyle stared out over the town of Nottingham from his position above the castle's gate, a slight frown on his face. The sun was just beginning to set over the forest. He narrowed his eyes. If Maxwell DeHarding made a bid to retrieve Elizabeth, as Kyle knew deep in his gut he would, tonight would be the night. He would wait until full darkness and then he would come.
Kyle would be able to kill him once and for all. Because now that he had made Elizabeth fully his, he did not intend to lose her again. She had finally accepted him and he would not have her face Maxwell again, which Kyle knew deep down would throw his bride's emotions into turmoil. She was sensible, his new wife, as she had demonstrated through her careful and deliberate pronouncement of her vows earlier this day, but Kyle would not risk a face to face meeting between she and his enemy, even if it was for her to tell her one-time husband that she had finally made the right choice.
In spite of her submission over the past day, Kyle did not doubt that should Maxwell will it, Elizabeth would succumb to his advances again. She had turned out to be much more romantic in her sensibility than Kyle had ever anticipated. While she had won out over that detrimental side of her nature upon her return to Nottingham Castle, he would not have her struggle with it again. And, in spite of all her claims that she was over Maxwell DeHarding, Kyle would not force her to confront him again.
He would not risk her. Because, in spite of all that had occurred between them over the past day, he still did not entirely trust her. Because, in spite of his memories of the night they had spent together, of Elizabeth coming to him the night before, pleading with him and begging for another chance, which had resulted in him taking her to his bed, something was still amiss. He could not put his finger on what it was, but something was still not [I]right[/I] - and it wasn't just that Elizabeth had told him that she would not be returning to his bed until she was sure she was not with child. He was willing to accept that. While his satisfaction with her had been great, due to the fact that he had finally gained the final triumph over Maxwell - that even though they had wed, Elizabeth had never given Kyle's enemy the prize of her virtue - he could wait for her. There were plenty of doxies around the castle just for that purpose after all.
No, it was not his bride's chastity that vexed him, but something deeper, something that he could not conquer. It was a fear that not everything was as it seemed. Because every time he focused his thoughts on the night he had shared with the dark-eyed beauty he had craved and loved since his father and Queen Eleanor had first betrothed them, Elizabeth transformed somehow into Tess DeHarding. While, in his memories, he caressed Elizabeth's soft skin or silky hair, his mind changed it slowly but surely to Tess's fairer flesh, her blonde curls.
He was losing his mind. He would not have put his hands on that slut. He thought he knew himself at least that far. And, yet, Kyle stared down at his mailed hand in dismay as his fingers began to tap impatiently against the curtain wall over the gate. He willed the nervous motion to stop, felt a frisson of fear when it would not.
What had that blonde witch done to him?
It was only then that he became aware of movement at the far end of the city. From his high vantage point over his father's domain, he could see directly to Sherwood's fringes and the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. The entire forest seemed to be coming to life as a large train of horses and carts began to emerge from the green wood. But it was not that to which Kyle's eyes were drawn in horror. The queen's return to Nottingham, while unexpected, was not necessarily unwelcome. The old hag could not yet be aware that it was Sir Kyle's interference with the taxes on behalf of Prince John that had resulted in her younger son's bid for the throne. Eleanor would also accept Kyle's marriage to Elizabeth. It was she who had arranged it after all.
No, it was not Eleanor he feared. Not yet. It was the banner which flew slightly behind hers that caused his heart to stop. The arms of Whitfield - Alexander Delucie's domain - were blowing in the slight breeze, entangling with the queen's, reminding Kyle abruptly of how closely Eleanor regarded Alexander. She would believe Alexander Delucie were that young baron to tell her all that had transpired since she had left. But did Alexander know about the taxes?
Kyle quickly searched his mind, tried to figure out how the young lord could have discovered the truth - if indeed he had. He knew that the other man was somehow linked to Maxwell DeHarding. His interference at Kyle's original wedding to Elizabeth proved that. But where had Alexander of Whitfield been since then? It was not rare for the young lord to lay low on his own lands when he was not traveling with Eleanor, but then circumstances had been anything but normal over the past fortnight.
And, if his arms were flying with the queen's, it meant that Alexander [I]was[/I] with Eleanor. Which meant that he had to have gone directly to his guardian upon his successful bid to end that original, over-hasty wedding. Because what else would the queen doing in Nottingham anyway? The old bitch was supposed to be in London. Prince John had assured his mother's interference would not be a problem by calling her there the week before. Why was she back?
It had to be connected to Alexander Delucie, which could not be a good thing. No, not at all. Alexander had raised her suspicions somehow and it had to be over more than simply Elizabeth's wedding. The queen would not have returned for that. She had been the one to contract the betrothal after all, even though she had likely not expected the marriage to take place so quickly. No, it had to be the taxes. Somehow Alexander had found out the truth about them and he had gone directly to Eleanor.
For the first time since Kyle had received the message that morning that Prince John had successfully taken the throne, Kyle wondered if he had been misled. Because the closer the cortège came, the more Kyle knew that John must have failed.
The final proof of it was impossible to ignore. For his eyes suddenly lit on a standard that he had not noticed before, the slight wind not having picked up its fabric until the last possible second. Kyle's heart stopped beating.
It was the banner of Prince John of Mortain. Richard's younger brother was traveling with his mother. Which could only mean one thing. The rebellion had failed.
"I am sorry my son."
Kyle whirled, stared at his father in horror. James DeValence was watching him sadly, having come up beside him without a sound.
"Father? What.I don't understand!"
"I sent the messenger this morning. It was the only way to prove to myself once and for all that you were behind the treasonous plot."
"[I]What?[/I]"
Kyle's father closed his eyes, took an unsteady breath. "You are a traitor Kyle. I could not allow our house to be labeled as such."
"You tricked me!" Kyle bellowed. "I am your son! How could you do this to me?"
"Richard Plantagenet is the rightful king of England," the sheriff replied quietly. "I sent a message after the queen upon my investigation into exactly why those false outlaws had been sent into Sherwood. Once I understood that the tax shipment was being waylaid by Prince John's followers, I had no choice." His disappointed gaze caused shame to enter Kyle's heart, in spite of himself. "My son, I will protect you. The queen will understand that you are young, that you were led astray." His gaze darkened. "Just as she is sure is the truth with her youngest boy, the king's brother." The sheriff was obviously not as convinced of John's intentions.
"She has forgiven John?" Kyle gasped in disbelief.
"Of course," the sheriff shrugged. "No real harm has been done and he is her son. And now she knows to keep a closer eye on him. The king's brother is perfectly safe. She will never kill her own child, not even in the name of her favorite son. Richard will deal with him when he returns, but John will not die." James's jaw set. "Nor will my son. Which is why there is a horse waiting for you below. The queen will not wish to see you right now but I am sure, because of my loyalty, that I will be able to convince her to pardon you. She is already inclined that way."
Kyle could not believe that this had happened. All of his father's declarations that he was proud of him over the past days, that he was glad that Kyle was finally taking a hand in his own destiny, that he was becoming a man, had been lies. His father had been investigating him the entire time, had betrayed him.
He felt his world crashing down around his shoulders. Where an hour ago the entire shire had been at his feet, where he had been finally sure that Nottingham would respect him, it was all gone. All because of the one man he had trusted above all others.
"I cannot believe you would betray me thus," Kyle said quietly, pressing his lips together.
"I still have hopes that you will become the man I want you to be," James replied sadly. "But treason is not the way my son. You must see that. For now, accept your limitations and leave this place. I will call you back after I have secured the queen's forgiveness. I burnt that church to assure your marriage to Lady Elizabeth." Kyle could see his father's guilt at the mortal sin written on his face and, yet, he had done it - for him. He felt himself softening. "You can start to rebuild a life with your young wife and the queen's affection for her will help your cause. Soon, all will be right again. You will be able to return and it will be as if none of this ever happened." DeValence's satisfied gaze moved away from Kyle and back to the spectacle below.
Kyle followed his father's gaze back to the cortège, which was slowly winding its way through the heavily packed streets below, the citizens of Nottingham apparently not wishing to miss an opportunity to lay eyes on their king's mother, the famous Eleanor of Aquitaine, even if it was a surprising appearance.
"I will never forgive you for this," Kyle told his father. "You are dead to me." Kyle blinked, unsure why he had said such a thing, surprised at the venom in his tone. He was not thinking it after all. His father was doing all of this [I]for[/I] him. He was beginning to realize that perhaps his plot with Prince John had been a foolhardy one. And, at least, he still had Elizabeth. They were legally wed now.
But he had said the words anyway. He had not thought them, but he had said them.
He did not miss the spasm of grief that crossed his father's face. "I hope that you will reconsider that, but if it must be true, so that you will leave and save your own life, so be it."
Kyle stared at him for another long moment, fighting to say what he really meant - that he would follow his father's plan, that it all would work out. His father must have seen this as a slight willingness to forgive him because he reached out a hand and clasped Kyle's shoulder.
And, with that simple act of affection, in spite of a slight softening towards his father, his rage was rekindled and Sir Kyle could not stop what happened next. Upon later reflection, he was almost positive that it was not his own will that made him do it, but some other power that he could not even begin to explain. But, he could not deny the truth of it, in spite of the fact that he refused to blame himself.
In the end, it was he who took his father's life.
Because, without a thought, his dagger was in his hand and then in his father's chest. He watched James DeValence's eyes widen with shock as he managed to lower his chin, to stare down at the destruction his betrayal of his son had caused. It had ended his own life.
"Kyle." he gasped, clutching at his son's shoulders. Kyle wrenched away in horror, watched his father fall to the ground. Their eyes met once more and he felt a spasm go through his entire frame as the light went out of the sheriff's blue eyes.
His own eyes.
What had he done?
It was only then that he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched in horrified fascination as a wraith emerged from the shadows, the fading sunlight catching the gold in her long locks. She stared at him with her cold blue eyes, then raised a hand, beckoning him to come to her.
And, so, he did, stepping over his father's fallen form to do so. He did not look back.
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"This is the stupidest plan I have ever heard," Michael muttered to Isabel as they both pulled hoods over their heads and emerged from the forest. "The only other time we have asked Tess to mindwarp under such circumstances, she failed. Isn't it how we got into this mess in the first place? When she tried to change Father Desmond's memory? We should have taken Lord Edmund's advice. We should have waited for Alexander to return, to make certain that Queen Eleanor would not help."
Isabel sighed, did not disagree. This plan wasn't exactly fool-proof, especially since neither she nor Max particularly trusted Tess at the moment. But Isabel also understood why they had to proceed. Their queen - in spite of everything Lord Edmund had said to Tess about that, Isabel knew that she and Max and Michael all considered Elizabeth to still be such - was in danger and they could not allow her to stay that way a day longer. "Tess did manage to mindwarp the guards at the castle long enough to get you both out," Isabel reminded him. "And Max is desperate. With his marriage to Elizabeth nullified by the burning of the chapel, Sir Kyle will make haste to bind her legally."
"But Elizabeth will not agree," Michael said, still annoyed. "We know that. They cannot force her. We have proven that once. And I do not like the role Mary must play in this. It is too dangerous. She should not be in that castle. They will make her stay."
Isabel shook her head, her understanding suddenly that Michael's concern in all of this was mainly for Mary, which softened her response and her impatience with her brother and his incessant arguments. "Something is amiss Michael. I think Max believes that Elizabeth refused to leave with Tess. We [I]must[/I] get her out of there. And you know that Mary would be angry to even hear you question her right to help."
She felt Michael's eyes on her. "Why would he think such a thing?" He asked, ignoring her statement about Mary, likely because he knew it was true.
"Tess admitted to us that she lied about not remembering," Isabel told him. "She knew everything about it. She met with Elizabeth and Elizabeth would not leave. She insisted that Tess get you out and leave her behind."
"Tess remembered?" Michael demanded, stupefied. Isabel could almost [I]hear[/I] him searching his own mind for the memories that still would not surface.
"Yes." She paused, then tentatively broached her and Max's suspicions to her brother. "Michael, we wonder if perhaps Tess has not [I]made[/I] you forget what happened."
"What?" He practically yelled. They were still a considerable distance from Nottingham's walls and, yet, Isabel flinched in spite of herself.
She looked around carefully. No one else on the road to the town appeared to be looking at them. They were well covered after all. "Michael, quiet yourself," she insisted anyway.
"What?" Michael demanded again, although he lowered his voice. "Tess saved me. Why would she make me forget it?"
"We are not entirely sure," Isabel admitted.
Michael stopped walking. "Are you sure this is not a way for Max to convince himself that he was right to set Tess aside?" He finally asked, sounding suspicious.
"Michael!"
"Well, you know as well as I do that he will feel guilty about it for the rest of his life, in spite of the fact that Lord Edmund has approved his match with Elizabeth," Michael muttered. "He still loves Tess, as a sister, if nothing else. I do understand that he did not want to hurt her in any of this, though his actions seem to indicate otherwise."
Isabel sighed again. "I know it seems that way Michael." She trailed off. "I just don't know how to explain it to you. Things have not been right with Tess for many days now. Have you not noticed how swiftly her character has changed for the worse since we met Elizabeth and the others?"
Michael was pensive as they began to walk again. "Yes," he admitted grudgingly. Isabel could hear his reluctance to believe anything negative about Tess though. She was still his sister, in spite of the fact that they argued constantly. Isabel understood that Michael felt protective of Tess, as they all did still - even Max, in spite of his recent questioning of her loyalty. And she [I]had[/I] saved him from the dungeon in Nottingham Castle.
They had been raised together. The four of them were bonded, not only through childhood ties, but also through the mission their planet had set for them. The idea that one of them might betray the others to enemies outside the group - no matter what any of them did to each other - it was just as foreign and distasteful to Isabel as it apparently was to Michael.
And, yet, she could not help but believe it. Even in spite of the fact that Tess was currently mindwarping she and Max into the castle, disguised as servants to the Lady Mary Delucie.
"She has a right to be upset Bella," Michael continued, making all of Isabel's own arguments. "Max [I]did[/I] toss her aside. And, as we have already discussed, she has no one. You and I have made the choice to go our separate ways. Tess never got to make that choice."
"I know it," Isabel replied. "It is why I am inclined to forgive her if she will only admit that she has made you forget." She paused. "Because the problem lies in that there is no reason for you not to remember. If it is simply to help you move beyond your ordeal, that is one thing. But I feel like she is trying to hide something altogether different. Why is she lying?"
"We don't even know that it is she who is responsible for my memory loss," Michael reminded her. "Sir Kyle did make me hit my head very hard.
"I know," Isabel snapped. "I just feel that she is. It is all too coincidental. And isn't it a bit strange that you remember Sir Kyle beating you, but nothing else?"
"Well, yes," Michael admitted. There was another long pause as they came to the great gates of the town. "We will melt in with that merchant caravan." Michael whispered, taking her hand and pulling her close to his side. Isabel felt the blood in her veins begin to pump more quickly. This was the first test. They needed to get into the town without alerting the guards and they did not have the benefit of Tess's mindwarp. They both knew that Michael's description would have been circulated to all the guards and many of them had already seen him after all, during his captivity in the castle.
They could not be captured. They were responsible for securing the escape of the others once Elizabeth was freed. If they failed, the entire enterprise failed. Isabel silently agreed with Michael that the whole plan was extremely weak, but there was little else they could do. They did not have an army to storm the castle, nor did they have a guarantee that Alex would convince the queen to support them. It was true that Max had saved the taxes for King Richard, but as far as any of them knew, Richard was no longer king. The queen might even be supporting her younger son now. The loyalties of noblemen and women were notoriously changeable. John was just as much Eleanor's son as Richard was after all. Isabel could not understand why she loved one more than the other, felt a pang for the old woman that, because a kingdom lay in the balance, she was forced to choose. But, perhaps she did understand. Perhaps the only way to do it was to love one more. And, yet, Isabel pitied the queen. It would be like asking Isabel to choose between Max and Michael. Impossible.
Isabel breathed a sigh of relief when no one stopped to question them as they passed through the gates in the shadow of the merchant's cart. It was only once they were in the walls that she understood. She could sense the excitement in the air as she took in the inordinate amount of people still circulating in the streets. It was getting dark. Most of these people should be in their beds! Something had happened.
"Bella?" Michael spoke in an undertone.
"I know," Isabel said quietly. She reached out, gently grasped the arm of a passing woman. "Excuse me. Can you tell me what has happened? We have only just arrived in town."
The woman paused, then bobbed a curtsy. She seemed to recognize Isabel and Michael's bearings as those of people above her in station. "Certainly madam. The queen and Prince John have taken up residence in the castle. The town is in an uproar because they will need to be entertained. There will likely be another fair or perhaps a market. It is good for the town you see. The rich noblemen will swarm upon us in order to petition her grace and the prince. Already they begin to come. Alexander of Whitfield even rode in with her."
"Thank you." Isabel turned away, her heart thundering in her chest. Alex had succeeded! How had he managed to bring Eleanor to Nottingham so quickly? He was brilliant! She felt warmth spread through her at the thought that she would soon see him again. She had not expected to for more than a fortnight. This was joyous beyond belief.
"Michael! Is it not wonderful?" Isabel clutched at her brother's arm.
Of course, Michael was not so easily convinced. "It would seem our luck is turning," he allowed, although his tone was still suspicious. His next words betrayed about what he was still worried about. "Bella, I do not understand why Elizabeth would not leave with Tess and I. Do you think, if she's doing it, which I am still not convinced she is." He trailed off, then plunged on. "Do you think that is what Tess is hiding? Elizabeth's reason for staying behind?"
"She told us it was because Elizabeth has chosen Kyle," Isabel admitted, brushing aside his concern. There was no need for it any longer. "We both know that is impossible. I think she was simply trying to make Max doubt his wife. I am convinced that Elizabeth did not think you would escape easily if she accompanied you."
"That does sound more like her," Michael replied, clearly wanting to be convinced. "And, yet, she has undergone so much trouble to be with him before. What changed the last time?"
"I am sure we will find out soon enough," Isabel told him. "Let us find Max. He must not try and spirit Elizabeth away. We must allow Alex to have time to petition our cause."
"Very well," Michael returned. "I would see that Mary is safe anyway." He took her hand and started to lead her through the crowded streets in the direction of the castle.
As Isabel followed behind, she wondered at the shiver that descended her spine. Michael was right. Their luck was turning. Everything was going better than planned. Much better.
And, so, why was it though that she still suddenly felt that things were going to get worse?
Sir Kyle stared out over the town of Nottingham from his position above the castle's gate, a slight frown on his face. The sun was just beginning to set over the forest. He narrowed his eyes. If Maxwell DeHarding made a bid to retrieve Elizabeth, as Kyle knew deep in his gut he would, tonight would be the night. He would wait until full darkness and then he would come.
Kyle would be able to kill him once and for all. Because now that he had made Elizabeth fully his, he did not intend to lose her again. She had finally accepted him and he would not have her face Maxwell again, which Kyle knew deep down would throw his bride's emotions into turmoil. She was sensible, his new wife, as she had demonstrated through her careful and deliberate pronouncement of her vows earlier this day, but Kyle would not risk a face to face meeting between she and his enemy, even if it was for her to tell her one-time husband that she had finally made the right choice.
In spite of her submission over the past day, Kyle did not doubt that should Maxwell will it, Elizabeth would succumb to his advances again. She had turned out to be much more romantic in her sensibility than Kyle had ever anticipated. While she had won out over that detrimental side of her nature upon her return to Nottingham Castle, he would not have her struggle with it again. And, in spite of all her claims that she was over Maxwell DeHarding, Kyle would not force her to confront him again.
He would not risk her. Because, in spite of all that had occurred between them over the past day, he still did not entirely trust her. Because, in spite of his memories of the night they had spent together, of Elizabeth coming to him the night before, pleading with him and begging for another chance, which had resulted in him taking her to his bed, something was still amiss. He could not put his finger on what it was, but something was still not [I]right[/I] - and it wasn't just that Elizabeth had told him that she would not be returning to his bed until she was sure she was not with child. He was willing to accept that. While his satisfaction with her had been great, due to the fact that he had finally gained the final triumph over Maxwell - that even though they had wed, Elizabeth had never given Kyle's enemy the prize of her virtue - he could wait for her. There were plenty of doxies around the castle just for that purpose after all.
No, it was not his bride's chastity that vexed him, but something deeper, something that he could not conquer. It was a fear that not everything was as it seemed. Because every time he focused his thoughts on the night he had shared with the dark-eyed beauty he had craved and loved since his father and Queen Eleanor had first betrothed them, Elizabeth transformed somehow into Tess DeHarding. While, in his memories, he caressed Elizabeth's soft skin or silky hair, his mind changed it slowly but surely to Tess's fairer flesh, her blonde curls.
He was losing his mind. He would not have put his hands on that slut. He thought he knew himself at least that far. And, yet, Kyle stared down at his mailed hand in dismay as his fingers began to tap impatiently against the curtain wall over the gate. He willed the nervous motion to stop, felt a frisson of fear when it would not.
What had that blonde witch done to him?
It was only then that he became aware of movement at the far end of the city. From his high vantage point over his father's domain, he could see directly to Sherwood's fringes and the sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. The entire forest seemed to be coming to life as a large train of horses and carts began to emerge from the green wood. But it was not that to which Kyle's eyes were drawn in horror. The queen's return to Nottingham, while unexpected, was not necessarily unwelcome. The old hag could not yet be aware that it was Sir Kyle's interference with the taxes on behalf of Prince John that had resulted in her younger son's bid for the throne. Eleanor would also accept Kyle's marriage to Elizabeth. It was she who had arranged it after all.
No, it was not Eleanor he feared. Not yet. It was the banner which flew slightly behind hers that caused his heart to stop. The arms of Whitfield - Alexander Delucie's domain - were blowing in the slight breeze, entangling with the queen's, reminding Kyle abruptly of how closely Eleanor regarded Alexander. She would believe Alexander Delucie were that young baron to tell her all that had transpired since she had left. But did Alexander know about the taxes?
Kyle quickly searched his mind, tried to figure out how the young lord could have discovered the truth - if indeed he had. He knew that the other man was somehow linked to Maxwell DeHarding. His interference at Kyle's original wedding to Elizabeth proved that. But where had Alexander of Whitfield been since then? It was not rare for the young lord to lay low on his own lands when he was not traveling with Eleanor, but then circumstances had been anything but normal over the past fortnight.
And, if his arms were flying with the queen's, it meant that Alexander [I]was[/I] with Eleanor. Which meant that he had to have gone directly to his guardian upon his successful bid to end that original, over-hasty wedding. Because what else would the queen doing in Nottingham anyway? The old bitch was supposed to be in London. Prince John had assured his mother's interference would not be a problem by calling her there the week before. Why was she back?
It had to be connected to Alexander Delucie, which could not be a good thing. No, not at all. Alexander had raised her suspicions somehow and it had to be over more than simply Elizabeth's wedding. The queen would not have returned for that. She had been the one to contract the betrothal after all, even though she had likely not expected the marriage to take place so quickly. No, it had to be the taxes. Somehow Alexander had found out the truth about them and he had gone directly to Eleanor.
For the first time since Kyle had received the message that morning that Prince John had successfully taken the throne, Kyle wondered if he had been misled. Because the closer the cortège came, the more Kyle knew that John must have failed.
The final proof of it was impossible to ignore. For his eyes suddenly lit on a standard that he had not noticed before, the slight wind not having picked up its fabric until the last possible second. Kyle's heart stopped beating.
It was the banner of Prince John of Mortain. Richard's younger brother was traveling with his mother. Which could only mean one thing. The rebellion had failed.
"I am sorry my son."
Kyle whirled, stared at his father in horror. James DeValence was watching him sadly, having come up beside him without a sound.
"Father? What.I don't understand!"
"I sent the messenger this morning. It was the only way to prove to myself once and for all that you were behind the treasonous plot."
"[I]What?[/I]"
Kyle's father closed his eyes, took an unsteady breath. "You are a traitor Kyle. I could not allow our house to be labeled as such."
"You tricked me!" Kyle bellowed. "I am your son! How could you do this to me?"
"Richard Plantagenet is the rightful king of England," the sheriff replied quietly. "I sent a message after the queen upon my investigation into exactly why those false outlaws had been sent into Sherwood. Once I understood that the tax shipment was being waylaid by Prince John's followers, I had no choice." His disappointed gaze caused shame to enter Kyle's heart, in spite of himself. "My son, I will protect you. The queen will understand that you are young, that you were led astray." His gaze darkened. "Just as she is sure is the truth with her youngest boy, the king's brother." The sheriff was obviously not as convinced of John's intentions.
"She has forgiven John?" Kyle gasped in disbelief.
"Of course," the sheriff shrugged. "No real harm has been done and he is her son. And now she knows to keep a closer eye on him. The king's brother is perfectly safe. She will never kill her own child, not even in the name of her favorite son. Richard will deal with him when he returns, but John will not die." James's jaw set. "Nor will my son. Which is why there is a horse waiting for you below. The queen will not wish to see you right now but I am sure, because of my loyalty, that I will be able to convince her to pardon you. She is already inclined that way."
Kyle could not believe that this had happened. All of his father's declarations that he was proud of him over the past days, that he was glad that Kyle was finally taking a hand in his own destiny, that he was becoming a man, had been lies. His father had been investigating him the entire time, had betrayed him.
He felt his world crashing down around his shoulders. Where an hour ago the entire shire had been at his feet, where he had been finally sure that Nottingham would respect him, it was all gone. All because of the one man he had trusted above all others.
"I cannot believe you would betray me thus," Kyle said quietly, pressing his lips together.
"I still have hopes that you will become the man I want you to be," James replied sadly. "But treason is not the way my son. You must see that. For now, accept your limitations and leave this place. I will call you back after I have secured the queen's forgiveness. I burnt that church to assure your marriage to Lady Elizabeth." Kyle could see his father's guilt at the mortal sin written on his face and, yet, he had done it - for him. He felt himself softening. "You can start to rebuild a life with your young wife and the queen's affection for her will help your cause. Soon, all will be right again. You will be able to return and it will be as if none of this ever happened." DeValence's satisfied gaze moved away from Kyle and back to the spectacle below.
Kyle followed his father's gaze back to the cortège, which was slowly winding its way through the heavily packed streets below, the citizens of Nottingham apparently not wishing to miss an opportunity to lay eyes on their king's mother, the famous Eleanor of Aquitaine, even if it was a surprising appearance.
"I will never forgive you for this," Kyle told his father. "You are dead to me." Kyle blinked, unsure why he had said such a thing, surprised at the venom in his tone. He was not thinking it after all. His father was doing all of this [I]for[/I] him. He was beginning to realize that perhaps his plot with Prince John had been a foolhardy one. And, at least, he still had Elizabeth. They were legally wed now.
But he had said the words anyway. He had not thought them, but he had said them.
He did not miss the spasm of grief that crossed his father's face. "I hope that you will reconsider that, but if it must be true, so that you will leave and save your own life, so be it."
Kyle stared at him for another long moment, fighting to say what he really meant - that he would follow his father's plan, that it all would work out. His father must have seen this as a slight willingness to forgive him because he reached out a hand and clasped Kyle's shoulder.
And, with that simple act of affection, in spite of a slight softening towards his father, his rage was rekindled and Sir Kyle could not stop what happened next. Upon later reflection, he was almost positive that it was not his own will that made him do it, but some other power that he could not even begin to explain. But, he could not deny the truth of it, in spite of the fact that he refused to blame himself.
In the end, it was he who took his father's life.
Because, without a thought, his dagger was in his hand and then in his father's chest. He watched James DeValence's eyes widen with shock as he managed to lower his chin, to stare down at the destruction his betrayal of his son had caused. It had ended his own life.
"Kyle." he gasped, clutching at his son's shoulders. Kyle wrenched away in horror, watched his father fall to the ground. Their eyes met once more and he felt a spasm go through his entire frame as the light went out of the sheriff's blue eyes.
His own eyes.
What had he done?
It was only then that he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He watched in horrified fascination as a wraith emerged from the shadows, the fading sunlight catching the gold in her long locks. She stared at him with her cold blue eyes, then raised a hand, beckoning him to come to her.
And, so, he did, stepping over his father's fallen form to do so. He did not look back.
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"This is the stupidest plan I have ever heard," Michael muttered to Isabel as they both pulled hoods over their heads and emerged from the forest. "The only other time we have asked Tess to mindwarp under such circumstances, she failed. Isn't it how we got into this mess in the first place? When she tried to change Father Desmond's memory? We should have taken Lord Edmund's advice. We should have waited for Alexander to return, to make certain that Queen Eleanor would not help."
Isabel sighed, did not disagree. This plan wasn't exactly fool-proof, especially since neither she nor Max particularly trusted Tess at the moment. But Isabel also understood why they had to proceed. Their queen - in spite of everything Lord Edmund had said to Tess about that, Isabel knew that she and Max and Michael all considered Elizabeth to still be such - was in danger and they could not allow her to stay that way a day longer. "Tess did manage to mindwarp the guards at the castle long enough to get you both out," Isabel reminded him. "And Max is desperate. With his marriage to Elizabeth nullified by the burning of the chapel, Sir Kyle will make haste to bind her legally."
"But Elizabeth will not agree," Michael said, still annoyed. "We know that. They cannot force her. We have proven that once. And I do not like the role Mary must play in this. It is too dangerous. She should not be in that castle. They will make her stay."
Isabel shook her head, her understanding suddenly that Michael's concern in all of this was mainly for Mary, which softened her response and her impatience with her brother and his incessant arguments. "Something is amiss Michael. I think Max believes that Elizabeth refused to leave with Tess. We [I]must[/I] get her out of there. And you know that Mary would be angry to even hear you question her right to help."
She felt Michael's eyes on her. "Why would he think such a thing?" He asked, ignoring her statement about Mary, likely because he knew it was true.
"Tess admitted to us that she lied about not remembering," Isabel told him. "She knew everything about it. She met with Elizabeth and Elizabeth would not leave. She insisted that Tess get you out and leave her behind."
"Tess remembered?" Michael demanded, stupefied. Isabel could almost [I]hear[/I] him searching his own mind for the memories that still would not surface.
"Yes." She paused, then tentatively broached her and Max's suspicions to her brother. "Michael, we wonder if perhaps Tess has not [I]made[/I] you forget what happened."
"What?" He practically yelled. They were still a considerable distance from Nottingham's walls and, yet, Isabel flinched in spite of herself.
She looked around carefully. No one else on the road to the town appeared to be looking at them. They were well covered after all. "Michael, quiet yourself," she insisted anyway.
"What?" Michael demanded again, although he lowered his voice. "Tess saved me. Why would she make me forget it?"
"We are not entirely sure," Isabel admitted.
Michael stopped walking. "Are you sure this is not a way for Max to convince himself that he was right to set Tess aside?" He finally asked, sounding suspicious.
"Michael!"
"Well, you know as well as I do that he will feel guilty about it for the rest of his life, in spite of the fact that Lord Edmund has approved his match with Elizabeth," Michael muttered. "He still loves Tess, as a sister, if nothing else. I do understand that he did not want to hurt her in any of this, though his actions seem to indicate otherwise."
Isabel sighed again. "I know it seems that way Michael." She trailed off. "I just don't know how to explain it to you. Things have not been right with Tess for many days now. Have you not noticed how swiftly her character has changed for the worse since we met Elizabeth and the others?"
Michael was pensive as they began to walk again. "Yes," he admitted grudgingly. Isabel could hear his reluctance to believe anything negative about Tess though. She was still his sister, in spite of the fact that they argued constantly. Isabel understood that Michael felt protective of Tess, as they all did still - even Max, in spite of his recent questioning of her loyalty. And she [I]had[/I] saved him from the dungeon in Nottingham Castle.
They had been raised together. The four of them were bonded, not only through childhood ties, but also through the mission their planet had set for them. The idea that one of them might betray the others to enemies outside the group - no matter what any of them did to each other - it was just as foreign and distasteful to Isabel as it apparently was to Michael.
And, yet, she could not help but believe it. Even in spite of the fact that Tess was currently mindwarping she and Max into the castle, disguised as servants to the Lady Mary Delucie.
"She has a right to be upset Bella," Michael continued, making all of Isabel's own arguments. "Max [I]did[/I] toss her aside. And, as we have already discussed, she has no one. You and I have made the choice to go our separate ways. Tess never got to make that choice."
"I know it," Isabel replied. "It is why I am inclined to forgive her if she will only admit that she has made you forget." She paused. "Because the problem lies in that there is no reason for you not to remember. If it is simply to help you move beyond your ordeal, that is one thing. But I feel like she is trying to hide something altogether different. Why is she lying?"
"We don't even know that it is she who is responsible for my memory loss," Michael reminded her. "Sir Kyle did make me hit my head very hard.
"I know," Isabel snapped. "I just feel that she is. It is all too coincidental. And isn't it a bit strange that you remember Sir Kyle beating you, but nothing else?"
"Well, yes," Michael admitted. There was another long pause as they came to the great gates of the town. "We will melt in with that merchant caravan." Michael whispered, taking her hand and pulling her close to his side. Isabel felt the blood in her veins begin to pump more quickly. This was the first test. They needed to get into the town without alerting the guards and they did not have the benefit of Tess's mindwarp. They both knew that Michael's description would have been circulated to all the guards and many of them had already seen him after all, during his captivity in the castle.
They could not be captured. They were responsible for securing the escape of the others once Elizabeth was freed. If they failed, the entire enterprise failed. Isabel silently agreed with Michael that the whole plan was extremely weak, but there was little else they could do. They did not have an army to storm the castle, nor did they have a guarantee that Alex would convince the queen to support them. It was true that Max had saved the taxes for King Richard, but as far as any of them knew, Richard was no longer king. The queen might even be supporting her younger son now. The loyalties of noblemen and women were notoriously changeable. John was just as much Eleanor's son as Richard was after all. Isabel could not understand why she loved one more than the other, felt a pang for the old woman that, because a kingdom lay in the balance, she was forced to choose. But, perhaps she did understand. Perhaps the only way to do it was to love one more. And, yet, Isabel pitied the queen. It would be like asking Isabel to choose between Max and Michael. Impossible.
Isabel breathed a sigh of relief when no one stopped to question them as they passed through the gates in the shadow of the merchant's cart. It was only once they were in the walls that she understood. She could sense the excitement in the air as she took in the inordinate amount of people still circulating in the streets. It was getting dark. Most of these people should be in their beds! Something had happened.
"Bella?" Michael spoke in an undertone.
"I know," Isabel said quietly. She reached out, gently grasped the arm of a passing woman. "Excuse me. Can you tell me what has happened? We have only just arrived in town."
The woman paused, then bobbed a curtsy. She seemed to recognize Isabel and Michael's bearings as those of people above her in station. "Certainly madam. The queen and Prince John have taken up residence in the castle. The town is in an uproar because they will need to be entertained. There will likely be another fair or perhaps a market. It is good for the town you see. The rich noblemen will swarm upon us in order to petition her grace and the prince. Already they begin to come. Alexander of Whitfield even rode in with her."
"Thank you." Isabel turned away, her heart thundering in her chest. Alex had succeeded! How had he managed to bring Eleanor to Nottingham so quickly? He was brilliant! She felt warmth spread through her at the thought that she would soon see him again. She had not expected to for more than a fortnight. This was joyous beyond belief.
"Michael! Is it not wonderful?" Isabel clutched at her brother's arm.
Of course, Michael was not so easily convinced. "It would seem our luck is turning," he allowed, although his tone was still suspicious. His next words betrayed about what he was still worried about. "Bella, I do not understand why Elizabeth would not leave with Tess and I. Do you think, if she's doing it, which I am still not convinced she is." He trailed off, then plunged on. "Do you think that is what Tess is hiding? Elizabeth's reason for staying behind?"
"She told us it was because Elizabeth has chosen Kyle," Isabel admitted, brushing aside his concern. There was no need for it any longer. "We both know that is impossible. I think she was simply trying to make Max doubt his wife. I am convinced that Elizabeth did not think you would escape easily if she accompanied you."
"That does sound more like her," Michael replied, clearly wanting to be convinced. "And, yet, she has undergone so much trouble to be with him before. What changed the last time?"
"I am sure we will find out soon enough," Isabel told him. "Let us find Max. He must not try and spirit Elizabeth away. We must allow Alex to have time to petition our cause."
"Very well," Michael returned. "I would see that Mary is safe anyway." He took her hand and started to lead her through the crowded streets in the direction of the castle.
As Isabel followed behind, she wondered at the shiver that descended her spine. Michael was right. Their luck was turning. Everything was going better than planned. Much better.
And, so, why was it though that she still suddenly felt that things were going to get worse?