“I understand,” he finally muttered, moving to pour himself more wine with his awkward left hand. “If I was in your position, then I might say the same thing. But the fact remains that I need your help to oust the Saesneg and I will pay for the privilege. With my father gone, I am now in control of Nether’s wealth and you know as well as I do that there is a good deal of it. I will pay you handsomely for your assistance in removing the Saesneg and if my sister is untouched by them, you can have her, too. Will you at least think on it?”
Colvyn had to admit that Gryffyn’s proposal had his attention. Even if he was the bastard son of the last king of Powys, the truth was that any family fortune had gone to the legitimate offspring. All Colvyn had was a broken down fortress and limited income. He mulled over the proposal. His conviction to not involve himself in Gryffyn’s battle was fading at the lure of being paid for his manpower.
He knew Nether was very wealthy. It had herds of sheep, orchards, and coveted lands. Perhaps he should rethink his refusal to lend assistance. As much as he didn’t want to, he found himself doing just that.
“How much?” he finally asked.
Gryffyn grinned, knowing he had the man’s interest and, with the right answer, his help. “Half of everything I have,” he replied without hesitation.
Colvyn was stunned. “Half?” he repeated. “Do you swear this to me?”
“I will write it in blood if I must.”
Colvyn thought on that a moment, realizing with sickening certainty that he was about to involve himself in another man’s fight because the lure of money was just too great. He found that he couldn’t refuse.
“Not in blood,” he said. “But I will have it in writing and I shall give the document to my kin. If I help you chase off the Saesneg and you fail to pay, they will bring everything they have down around Nether and take all of it. Is this in any way unclear?”
Gryffyn nodded his head slowly, his dark eyes glittering wickedly. “It is perfectly clear.”
“And I will have Chrystobel, too.”
“Aye… Chrystobel, too. You can even have Izlyn just for sport.”
Colvyn simply sat and eyed the man. He was afraid to say anything more. He was afraid he’d said too much already, because it seemed as if he had indeed committed himself to Gryffyn’s cause. For a price.
He wondered if that price would ultimately prove to be too high.
*
Nether Castle
Keller wasn’t happy in the least. In fact, he was damn well furious. Standing in the solar in Nether’s keep, the one with the door cut into the floor that led down into the storage area, he faced William, George, Aimery, and several senior sergeants. He had eleven men altogether, and all of them were in the chamber because all of them were, to varying degrees, responsible for a significant failure. They were all bracing themselves for de Poyer’s rage.
“You let that bastard escape,” Keller growled, eyeing the men around him. “One man against how many English? Is he really that cunning or are all of you really so bloody incompetent?”
William cleared his throat softly. “In fairness, d’Einen seems to be quite cunning,” he said. “He escaped George and Aimery by throwing a large rock at George’s head and nearly braining the man. George barely escaped unscathed, and Aimery was already injured at that point. It made it difficult to keep up with the man. By the time the horses were brought out, d’Einen was in hiding and he knocked one of the soldiers off his horse and stole the beast. After that, we gave chase but lost him in the mountains to the south. We could not risk pursuing him any further.”
Keller’s jaw was ticking as he listened to William. He had fallen asleep the day before and had slept all day and all night because Chrystobel wouldn’t allow anyone to awaken him, not even when William came to tell him about Gryffyn’s escape. Therefore, the man had been gone nearly an entire day by the time Keller awoke, refreshed and feeling very well indeed, until William told him what had happened. By then, Keller’s legendary temper had been unleashed.
“Spare me your explanations,” he snapped softly, holding up a hand to quiet William. “The fact remains that d’Einen escaped. Three hundred Englishmen could not capture one lone Welshmen and that is a shameful statistic. If the Marshal ever found out, we would all be consigned to scullery duty. This failure is inexcusable.”
William glanced at the men who were stoically receiving their verbal beating. “In speaking with some of d’Einen’s men, they have offered to assist us in locating him,” he said. “But I would advise caution, my lord. These men are Welsh, and loyal to the House of d’Einen, so it would not be my inclination to trust them. I have already sent scouts to pick up Gryffyn’s trail, so we should know something more by tonight.”
Keller’s expression was wrought with disgust. He was furious with their ineptitude and with the fact that he had slept through the crisis. Truth be told, he was perhaps more angry at himself than anything. He had allowed himself to be lulled into a deep and dreamless sleep. Never again, he vowed. I will never let myself be so at ease ever again. After a moment, he looked away from the men crowding the chamber.
“Get out of here,” he told the group. “Go back to your duties and stay out of my way. All but my knights, you will remain.”
The senior soldiers filed out silently, quitting the chamber and eventually the keep altogether. Keller waited until he heard the entry door shut before looking at his three knights.
“I am having a serious difficulty grasping this,” he said, rubbing at his eyes in an exasperated gesture. “I cannot fathom how you let that man escape. Well? I am waiting for an explanation that makes sense because right now, all I can see is three massive failures standing before me. How on earth did you achieve your current posts when you were capable of such failure?”
Aimery, with a swollen nose and two black eyes, spoke softly. “It was inexcusable, my lord,” he agreed. “I apologize for myself because I should not have let my injury slow me down as it did. I should have….”
George cut his brother off. “He could hardly see, my lord,” he told Keller, watching his brother’s indignant expression. “He fell down twice running behind me and the third time, he was in the kitchen yard and slipped in the mud. He went right into the butcher block and knocked himself giddy. D’Einen had already passed through the postern gate at that point so I ordered several soldiers to pursue the man so that I could help my brother. The failure is all mine, as I should not have returned to aid my brother. I am willing to accept your punishment.”
Aimery’s mouth was hanging open in outrage as he glared at his brother. “It was my fault,” he declared, turning to Keller. “You must punish me first.”
George scowled at his brother. “Shut your pie hole, you fool!” he hissed. “You were in no condition to capture d’Einen, so I am the one who must be punished! It was my fault!”