But it had been too little, too late.
Kevin caught sight of Christopher and David, standing with Edward near the mouth of the tower, as they watched their men push back the surge. The tower was heavily positioned with torches, so the battle was well-lit.
“Look,” Caius said, pointing. “There is my squire in the middle of it.”
Kevin could see young William de Wolfe swinging a sword with the skill of a much older man. He was a big lad, having seen fourteen years, and fought as well as a seasoned knight. His talent at such a young age was unmatched, but his father and the de Lohr brothers were keeping a close eye on him. Even Kevin could see that. But he didn’t have time to observe anything more. He began to shout at the three earls.
“Clear the gate!” he bellowed. “I have Sean! I must get through!”
They heard him. That drove all of them into the fray, standing around, or near, William and battling the soldiers who very much wanted to claim the tower. There were other de Lohr and de Wolfe knights involved, a very well-trained and experienced crew, and to see their lieges in the middle of the hand-to-hand combat at their advancing ages only made them fight harder.
But it was also an inspiration.
A clear path began to form.
Kevin could see that the de Lohr and de Wolfe men were pushing the tide of de la Londe men back. The little horse, however, was terrified and wouldn’t move forward, so he climbed down from the bench and covered the horse’s eyes with a sash he kept around his neck to catch the sweat.
Kevin began to move forward then, leading the horse and cart, slowly pushing through the tide as Caius came out of the wagon bed and fought men from behind who were trying to close in on the cart. Up ahead, Kevin could see William and Christopher fighting side by side, the talented young squire and the seasoned, older earl. Had he not been so concerned with his brother, he would have thought the sight to be impressive.
He was seeing England’s future knights in young William de Wolfe, and it was an awesome spectacle.
But there was no time to dwell on it. He was forced to unsheathe his broadsword at one point, hacking the arm from a soldier who had grabbed for the reins. As the man screamed and fell away, Kevin started to run, picking up the pace as he pulled the cart through the fighting. But on his way, he grabbed the tunic of William and yanked the youth along.
“Get in the wagon,” he bellowed. “We need your sword.”
Young William gave up his prime spot next to Christopher and vaulted into the wagon where Sean lay bleeding. Caius, seeing that he had collected his squire, jumped on as well. They managed to keep any de la Londe soldiers away from the wagon as Kevin pulled the blindfold off the horse and resumed his seat on the bench.
Snapping the reins, Kevin smacked the horse and the animal bolted. The cart plowed through the remaining men until they finally broke free, leaving the siege of the Tower of London and galloping into the city at a frantic pace.
There were armies clamoring all around the Tower at this point, in groups that were gathering around the moat. There were clashes, too, as the barons and their armies went up against Crown troops or allies, so there were pockets of fighting. All of this beneath a coal-black sky.
Still, Kevin could see enough that he could get through them. There were torches and bonfires everywhere, lighting up the land. Flaming projectiles flew through the night sky as the massive war machines launched them over the walls. He and the pony cart veered onto Tower Street, which ran east and west, paralleling the Thames, but there were mostly lots of land and manor homes here, belonging to some of the great ruling houses of England.
The Marshal had two London townhomes, but they were deeper into the city. Farringdon House, his primary residence, was near Westminster, while Rossington was on the northeast section of the city. It was smaller, but no less heavily guarded. Kevin knew where it was, though he hadn’t visited it frequently, so he quickly turned off Tower Street and headed north to Aldgate Street, which was a major thoroughfare.
He would find Rossington on Aldgate.
Because of the siege at the Tower of London, the streets of the city were vacant. The city’s occupants had folded into their little residences, terrified at the unprecedented battle. There were, however, roaming bands of soldiers in the streets as more military support poured into the city gates. At the moment, London was a city under siege and there were soldiers everywhere.
Kevin spent a good deal of time avoiding these roaming armies, unsure if they were friend or foe. The little horse had a surprising amount of energy and was not showing any signs of slowing down as they neared the city wall. Going beyond the city wall, however, was not necessary because Rossington House was located just before a gate in the enormous wall that encircled London.
In fact, he could see Rossington up ahead in the darkness, a three-storied wattle and daub structure with dark crossbeams and whitewashed walls. As was common with the architecture of the day, the upper floors were wider than the bottom floor to expand the interior space.
The upper floors extended beyond the ground floor by several feet and were supported by large beams dug deep into the ground. The house was also surrounded by a stone wall that rather than having a wall walk, had enormous iron spikes on the top of the wall to prevent men from trying to climb over it.
Rossington House had a fortified iron gate built into the wall at the entry. But at the end of the house, it also had a second larger iron gate that was meant for carriages and horses. Kevin went straight to this second gate and began to shout.
“Open the gate!” he bellowed. “I have a wounded Marshal man! Open it, I say!”
The house was completely dark, meant to give the illusion that no one was inside, but Kevin knew better. He also knew that they might not open the gate to him at all, so he resorted to the seldom-used password that all Marshal agents used in times of confusion and warfare. It identified men under The Marshal’s command.
He began to shout.
“Newberry Castle!”
Very shortly, he began to see men running out of the darkness, straight to the gate to unbolt it from the inside. As Kevin charged through and into the yard beyond, servants emerged from the house carrying fish oil lamps to illuminate the night. They ran straight for the cart as Kevin pulled it to a halt.
“Get this man inside, for he has a terrible wound,” he commanded, unable to say the word “mortal” where it pertained to Sean’s wound. “This horse is to be well tended and well fed, for it has seen a great deal of terror this night.”
He was leaping off the wagon as servants swung into action. He rushed to the rear of the cart as Caius and William were getting a good grip on Sean, who had passed into unconsciousness by this time. Kevin took his brother’s legs and, between him and Caius and William, they managed to shuffle him into the darkened manse.
The majordomo, a man named Bowes, directed them into a chamber on the lower floor of the manse where a large bed was the focal point of the room. The chamber was cold and dark, but that quickly changed as a gang of servants began to stoke the hearth and light the way. Sean was carefully deposited upon the bed as the old physic once again hovered over him, checking wrappings, checking the hasty stitching he’d done earlier at the Tower to ensure it had held.
Caius sent William out to make sure that the manse was secure and they’d not been followed. When the squire dashed off, he stood with Kevin at the end of the bed, watching the servants crowd around Sean as the small physic tried to save his life. They were still in battle mode, still fleeing with a wounded brother, and it took them both a moment to settle down and realize that, for the moment, they were safe.