Page 373 of Historical Hotties
“He truly hit her?” he asked, stunned. “You saw this?”
“I did,” Bastian said. “But, in fairness to all concerned, I saw Gisella slap him first. But de la Pole struck back with a hit that sent her to the floor. I do not care if my wife struck him first. I am positive without even knowing the circumstances that the man deserved it. What matters is that de la Pole hit my wife and you understand that I cannot let this go unanswered. If I do not strike and strike hard, I will appear weak and ineffective in that I cannot even defend my own wife.”
Not one man in the room disagreed with him. His honor as a knight and protector was at stake. Unfortunately, it had little to do with Gisella and everything to do with Bastian’s honor. That was well-understood.
“What now, Bas?” Gannon asked. He was particularly infuriated that his sister had been struck. “That son of a whore will feel my wrath as well and when I tell my father, he will go to war against Suffolk for the slight. Tell me what we will do now.”
Bastian cocked an eyebrow. “It is not Suffolk I want but his brother,” he clarified. “Suffolk, by the sheer nature of the fact that I intend to punish his brother, will enter the fray. There is no doubt in my mind. But Gloucester asked me not to do anything. He wants to mediate with Suffolk for the man to turn his brother over to me because de la Pole fled the Tower. He is on the run, and rightfully so, but wherever he is I am sure he is heading to a Suffolk property for protection.”
Across the table they were all standing around, Martin sighed heavily. “I know de la Pole and so does Brant,” he said. “Remember that we serve Warwick and spend a great deal of time at the Tower in proximity to the king. Thomas de la Pole is a liar, a thief, and a man of dubious tastes. He knows that no one will punish him because of his brother. As much as I hate the fact that he struck your wife, in a sense, this is a good thing because now he has earned your wrath. You will punish him as many have wanted to but have been too afraid of Suffolk to move against him. De la Pole usually spends his time at Wallingford Castle, about a day’s ride from here. If I had to speculate, I would say that is where he has run to.”
“Suffolk is the custodian of Wallingford,” Brant put in. “They both spend time there. De la Pole has probably run straight to his brother with what he has done. Suffolk is probably making plans to spirit him out of the country.”
Bastian shook his head firmly. “Not before I get to him,” he said, looking at his father. “I can have a thousand men in London in two days, enough to seal off Wallingford and prevent de la Pole from escaping. I saw Andrew Wellesbourne today and he is staying at the Wellesbourne manor of Rosehill. I can have atleast five hundred men from Wellesbourne alone and have them tomorrow. How many men does Uncle Aramis have at Deverill Castle?”
Braxton sighed heavily, knowing his son was speaking of all-out war against Suffolk. “Fifteen hundred at least,” he said reluctantly. “Bas, I realize your honor is at stake with de la Pole striking your lovely wife, but why not let Gloucester negotiate with Suffolk for his brother? If we can turn the man over to you peacefully, will that suffice?”
Bastian nodded. “Of course it will, but do you really think Suffolk would do such a thing?” he asked, rather irritably. “He knows I will punish the man and more than likely kill him, so of course, he will not. I am inclined to agree with Martin– he is probably figuring how to get his brother out of the country to avoid my wrath. I will not permit this.”
Braxton knew that. His son had been wronged and the man required, and deserved, justice. He leaned forward on the table, resting his weary bones.
“Aramis carries at least fifteen hundred men at Deverill, which is at least two days away,” he said quietly. “If you truly want to force Suffolk’s hand, then send word to Richmond le Bec. The man will bring his thousands to Wallingford and then you can overcome the castle by sheer numbers. But remember that Suffolk has several properties and several thousand men at his disposal, so we must all be prepared to fend off his anger.”
Bastian looked at his father seriously. “And the de Russe war machine has over ten thousand men between our properties in England and my three thousand men in France,” he reminded him. “We have more than Suffolk does. Moreover, now we have Richmond le Bec as an ally and he commands thousands as well. Suffolk would be wise to turn his brother over to me or we are going to tear this country apart trying to exact justice from one another.”
Braxton knew that and he didn’t like it. “I am an old man, Bas,” he muttered. “I have seen more battles in my lifetime than most. My fighting years are behind me and I have seen that, sometimes, battles simply make the matter worse. All I am saying is that you should give Suffolk the opportunity to surrender his brother to you before you tear this country apart in the name of honor.”
Bastian put his hand on her father’s shoulder. “I will give him that opportunity,” Bastian said. “But I am still riding to Wallingford and surrounding it. If de la Pole is there, I do not want him escaping.”
Braxton knew there would be no discouraging him. He had tried to persuade his son for a peaceful solution all he was going to. Bastian, having just come from years upon years of war in France, was in the battle mindset. Battle was a way to achieve his ends and, at this point in his life, battle and warfare were all he knew. There would be no convincing him to seek another way.
“What do you need and when will you go?” Braxton asked, resigned.
Bastian glanced at the knights around him. “Gannon, Lucas, and I must do this,” he said quietly. “Brant and Martin, you are sworn to Warwick. You must get his permission if you are inclined to follow me.”
Both Brant and Martin nodded. “We are with you, Bas,” Martin said firmly. “Answer Uncle Braxton. What do you need and when will we go?”
Bastian thought a moment. “First, I send word to Gloucester to tell him my plans,” he said. “I am sure he will answer swiftly to prevent me from doing anything hasty, but meanwhile, I will send word to Andrew Wellesbourne requesting soldiers to reinforce the weak ranks I have right now. Father, how many soldiers are at West Court?”
Braxton shrugged. “A couple of hundred at the very most,” he said. “It is not a military fortification.”
Bastian cocked an eyebrow. “If I engage with Suffolk, it will be,” he said. “All de Russe properties should be reinforced if I lay siege to Wallingford Castle. In the meantime, the rest of us should be prepared to move out with what men we have while I send requests for larger numbers to Uncle Aramis. Additionally, I want men sent to the ports to be on the watch for de la Pole in case he escapes our net. Brant, how many of Warwick’s men know de la Pole on sight?”
Brant thought on that a moment. “Most of us,” he said. “I will see if I can discreetly convince a dozen or so to head to the ports and try to keep Warwick from noticing that he is down a few men.”
“Excellent,” Bastian agreed. “Tell them I will pay them handsomely for their efforts. I will therefore send word to Gloucester this night asking if he has made contact with Suffolk. Based on his reply, we will know better how to plan. Meanwhile, I will try to get some sleep and see you all on the morrow. Father, will you take the young king in-hand?”
Braxton stood up with a good deal of help from Bastian on one side and Brant on the other.
“Aye,” he said. “I will sleep in his room with him. He seems rather fearful to be left alone.”
Bastian didn’t let go of his father as the men shuffled towards the door that led from the kitchens and back to the manor. It seemed to him as if his father was leaning heavily on him, the weariness of an old man in bad health.
Bidding his cousins and knight a good eve, Bastian escorted his father into the manor and left him off in the reception room where Henry and the young page had been drawing quite steadily since Braxton had originally departed. Bastian smiledwhen Henry pointed out his drawings to Braxton and the old man praised him.
Leaving the king in excellent hands, Bastian headed up to his bedchamber with the intention of making his wife truly his wife in every sense of the word. The day may have been full of obligations and duties, but the night would belong only to them.
Bastian would make sure of it.
