Tyringham Castle

Carbis Bay, Corwall

April, 1450 A.D.

 

 

 

“They are coming,” Rhodes hissed. “I can see them on the horizon. See the lamps swinging through the mist? They are approaching.”

The soldiers upon the battlements of Tyringham began to move, trying not to kill each other because they were moving in almost complete darkness.

But that was the plan.

Ships were out in the bay, approaching the shore through the swirling mist that so often shrouded Carbis Bay. But those ships were part of a trap set up by Lady de Leybourne’s brother and husband in their attempt to destroy a rogue band of marauding French pirates that had launched a series of attacks along the western coast of Cornwall since last November. They were an offshoot of the larger band of French pirates that sometimes drifted into these waters, a group known as les porteurs d’Eau, or The Water Bearers. It was a rather benign name for a very nasty group of men, but this rogue offshoot was even worst. At least they had named themselves appropriately – le viande de la mer – or, The Sea Vipers. For the new Lord Tyringham and his subjects, this group had indeed been a hoard of vipers.

But now their reign of terror was about to come to an end.

Rhodes supposed this was one advantage of having married the sister of the most feared English pirate in these waters. Unless he wanted to face a very angry sister who could quite literally best him in a fight, Constantine le Brecque had little choice but to come to the aid of his brother-in-law in order to chase off the raiders who had been killing and looting in Tyringham lands. There was even a story of them having abducted monks from a small and isolated abbey down towards Penzance and using the monks for slave labor on their vessels.

But the truth was that Constantine and Rhodes has become good friends over the years, so their alliance was a natural thing. Constantine didn’t like any other pirates in his territory and Rhodes didn’t want them raiding his lands, so this joint venture against The Sea Vipers would benefit them both. Constantine had been watching the coast in one of his lesser vessels for the past month and a few days ago, he’d caught up to The Sea Vipers by Padstow Bay and a nasty fight had ensued.

Pretending to be wounded, Constantine had launched a message onto the nearby shore via a well-placed arrow where several Tyringham men had been shadowing him, waiting to take just such a message to take to Rhodes. With the news that the great Leader of Titans was engaging the enemy and would head south to Carbis Bay, hopefully with The Sea Vipers giving chase, Constantine proceeded to lure his enemy southward where about a thousand Tyringham soldiers were lying in wait for them.

Now, the moment was upon them as the two vessels closed in on Carbis Bay beneath a full moon and a swirling mist. There was a sense of excitement and danger in the air as the men at Tyringham scattered to their posts. No one was allowed to light a lamp or carry a torch other than just a few scattered on the battlements because Rhodes didn’t want it to appear as if the castle was loaded with men. He wanted the French pirates to believe that Tyringham was sparingly manned and that there weren’t gangs of soldiers hiding in the trees just off the beach, waiting. The plan had been for the French pirates to chase what was presumably a wounded ship, and that was exactly what they were doing.

Now, the plan was coming to fruition but Rhodes knew he was going to have one big problem with it all.

His wife.

He knew she was going to want to fight. He’d tried to keep his plans from her for the past month, but that was impossible. Samarra had always been one of his greatest advisors, always listening in on conferences with his knights and giving sage advice. Since their marriage, he’d at least managed to convince her to lay down her sword and put aside her fighting ways to become his chatelaine and raise his children, but it had been a difficult conversion for the woman who had always lived the life of a warrior.

Then, the children started to come.

They had been married almost six years and already had two young boys with a third child on the way. Even now, as Rhodes made his way down the battlements, his eldest son was at his side. Rex de Leybourne was a boy in his father’s image, even at his young age. He had seen nearly five years but he was smart, well-spoken, and had a natural sense of command. The Tyringham men loved him and Henry, before he had died, had been deeply in love with his grandchild.

It was the heir he’d been waiting for.

Now, little Rex held on to the hem of his father’s tunic as they ran from the battlements, letting go only to permit his father to help him down the steps that led to the bailey, and such assistance with him was rare. More often than not, he wanted to do it by himself, a stubborn lad much as his father had been and much as his mother was.

Fifteen months younger than Rex was his brother, Reed, who was now with his pregnant mother up in their chamber. At least, that was the hope as far as Rhodes was concerned but something told him that with all of the activity in the bailey, the chances of Samarra actually staying to their chamber were slim to none. Even six months pregnant as she was, she could still outfight nearly every man at Tyringham. If she truly wanted to do battle, then it would be difficult to stop her.

Rhodes braced himself that that possibility.

Down in the bailey, it was very dark as men with weapons charged out of the gatehouse and raced down to the trees surrounding the beach, preparing for battle with the French when they came ashore. It was a bit chaotic and much to Rex’s displeasure, his father had to pick him up so he wouldn’t be trampled on his way to the darkened gatehouse. As men began to settle in to their positions, both in the fortress and out of it, one of Rhode’s knights approached him from the gatehouse.

“Le Brecque has landed on the beach,” he said. “He should be here shortly.”

Rhodes nodded, peering out of the gatehouse and into the mist beyond. “The fog is not too heavy,” he said, “but this cover is to our advantage when the French disembark their vessel. Send someone to make sure that le Brecque keeps his men on the beach. The French will need something to lure them out of their boat and wounded English on the beach should do the trick.”

With a grin, the knight nodded and rushed off, sending one of the gate sentries out of Tyringham with the message for le Brecque. In truth, the beach was just down the slope from Tyringham so it wasn’t far in the least. Rhodes was concerned that the French might see men running up and down the path from the beach and into the fortress so he began to spread the word that men were to stop their movement and hunker down to await the command to attack. The entire plan hinged on whether or not they could get The Sea Vipers out of their ship. If the French remained in the boat, then it would be a long waiting game. Perhaps there would be no success at all. As Rhodes reached the gatehouse, a man he recognized was coming through.

Constantine le Brecque emerged from the darkness. Tall and blond, with sun-kissed skin and a bright smile, Constantine looked like a man who had been borne of the waves and lifted up by the gods of the sea as their most prized possession. Trained as a knight, and a very good one at that, it was difficult to believe the man had chosen the life of piracy rather than the life of a pious knight. He had his reasons, of course, but they were reasons no one in the family spoke of these days. Constantine’s path had been established long ago. At the moment, he was simply glad to see his brother-in-law and his nephew.

“Rhodes,” Constantine said, gladness in his tone even though he was winded from running up the path from the beach. “I saw your men in the trees surrounding the beach. Is everything set, then?”

Rhodes nodded. “It ‘tis,” he said. “And you received my message to leave your men on the beach?”

Constantine grinned. “I already thought of such a thing before you did,” he said. “My men are to lure the French onshore and then run from them. When the French pursue, it will lead them right to your men.”

Rhodes liked the way he and Constantine always seemed to think the same way. Except when it came to matters of their respective professions, they almost always thought the same way. “Excellent,” he replied. “My men are well-armed. How many French do you think there are?”

Constantine cocked an eyebrow. “They have a twin-sail, Portuguese-built caravel that is as sleek as any vessel I have seen,” he said. “My ship is larger and I have an extra sail, and I believe that sail is the only way I was able to escape them. My ship can carry thirty to fifty men, depending on how many I can shove into the hull, but the French vessel cannot carry any more than twenty-five men and the fact that she was unable to catch me tells me that she is carrying the full twenty-five. She is weighted.”

Rhodes processed the information. “And I have hundreds of men waiting to ambush them.”

Constantine lifted his shoulders. “Then it shall be a short fight.”

That was good news to Constantine. He was tired of those French bastards raiding along his coastline.  They’d done terrible damage to the village of Gwithian up the bay, burning out at least two hundred villagers and making off with four beautiful young women, so the villagers told him. But that was only one in a long list of offenses by these pirates. If Rhodes had anything to say about it, this would be the end of the terror.

“Greetings, Con.”

That soft, sultry voice came from behind. Both Rhodes and Constantine turned to see Samarra approaching out of the darkness. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Rhodes could clearly see that she was geared for battle, dressed in a heavy leather tunic, her husband’s breeches because her rounded belly could no longer fit into her own, and a mail coat that she’d had for many years. It hung on her, heavily, and there was no mistaking her bulging belly beneath it.

Constantine looked at his pregnant sister, dressed for battle, and struggled to contain his outrage. A glance at Rhodes saw that the man wasn’t being quite so subtle about his displeasure so before he could explode, Constantine moved towards his sister to kiss her on the cheek.

“Greetings, Sam,” he said, smiling at her when their eyes met. “You are looking well. When is the child due?”

Samarra returned her older brother’s smile. “Not until later this summer,” she said. Then, she looked to her husband. “I could see the French ship approached. It is nearly upon us. Do you intend to meet them on the beach?”

Rhodes was looking at his wife as if he wasn’t happy to see her. He was torn between the need to scold her and the reality that he should be gentle about it. She’d had incredibly good pregnancies and easy deliveries, as if her long-legged body had been built for such a thing. No sickness at all and she’d eaten like a horse through all three of her pregnancies. But the one thing she did suffer from was a shortness of temper. She could become quite irate, very quickly, so unless Rhodes wanted a battle on his hands, he knew he had to tread carefully.

But it was difficult.

“I have five hundred men in the trees down by the beach,” he informed her steadily. “You are dressed for battle; what did you intend to do?”

Samarra smiled thinly; she knew her husband was on the verge of berating her and she hoped, for his sake, he wasn’t about to do it in front of her brother. It would go badly for him if he did.

“I intend to protect the keep,” she said. “Did you think I was going to go to the beach with your men?”

“It would not have surprised me.”

She snorted. “Then you are becoming ridiculous in your old age,” she said. “I had no intention of going do the beach. I will remain here and protect our children.”

“Excellent,” Rhodes said as he handed over Rex. The child immediately reached out for his mother and Samarra had no choice but to take the boy. “Rex can return to the keep with you. He has been a great help, however. Mayhap he can now help you in the keep.”

Samarra held her son on her hip. “Rex is always a great help,” she said. “He will make an excellent knight someday.”

Rex, who had remained silent until that moment, piped up. “I want to sail with Uncle Con!”

Both Samarra and Rhodes looked at the boy. “Do you not wish to fight with your father?” Rhodes asked, appalled. “Surely you wish to remain at Tyringham with me.”

Rex shook his head, his curly blond hair wagging back and forth. “I would sail with Uncle Con,” he said again, grinning when he looked at his uncle, whom he resembled a great deal. “Uncle Con fights the French bastards!”

Samarra’s eyes widened and she looked at her brother, at her husband, and both men were looking at her as if they had no idea how the child had come up with such language. Their innocent expressions were too pure to be real. Constantine cleared his throat loudly.

“I never said French bas- uh, French sailors,” he said, uncomfortable and fearful that Rex had picked up the language from him in his frequent visits to Tyringham. “Sometimes the French do very bad things, but I have plenty of men to fight them, Rex. You must stay with your father.”

Rhodes could only shake his head, annoyed that his son should want to be a pirate, something he considered less than noble by profession. “Of course he will stay with me,” he said to Constantine. “You have your own son now. See if your wife will let him sail with you.”

Constantine. “Gregg will abide by my wishes, whatever they are.”

It was Samarra’s turn to snort. “Gregg has said she does not wish for your son to take to sea,” she said. “He has the de Moyon lordship to inherit since she is the heiress. He will make a fine lord.”

“And I want to fight French bastards!”

Rex wouldn’t shut up about fighting the French and both Rhodes and Constantine wondered who was going to get punched first for teaching the lad such a naughty word. Samarra wasn’t beyond punishing them the same way she punished her sons. She was a loving mother, but strict. She was a loving wife and sister, but not afraid to throw a well-aimed fist when warranted. Constantine thought this would be a good time for him to depart.

“We shall discuss it later, Rex,” he told his nephew, putting a finger to his lips to silence the boy when Samarra wasn’t looking. “Go back inside with your mother, now. Your father and I will be around shortly.”

Rhodes took Constantine’s cue. He went to his wife, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her sweetly. “Please go inside now,” he said, quietly but firmly. “We are unsure of the numbers we might be facing and in case the French have brought any archers, I would prefer you safely inside.”

Samarra was torn; she knew that her husband was trying to get rid of her but now with her son in her arms, the need to protect the boy was overwhelming. Still, she very much wanted to position herself on the battlements and watch the battle when the French came ashore. This had been the type of internal struggled she’d faced almost daily since marrying Rhodes, the struggle of the lady mercenary against the wife and mother who was not expected – and discouraged – to fight.

Truth be told, she loved being a wife and mother. She loved being Lady de Leybourne, chatelaine of Tyringham Castle. But in times like this, with the smell of battle in the air, well… she missed it.

“Very well,” she said, although it was clear that she was disappointed. “If you are sure you do not need any help?”

“I am sure, sweetheart.”

“You will call me if you need me?”

“I will, indeed.”

Samarra sighed, glancing up at the gatehouse, at the battlements of Tyringham. Now she was starting to feel some self-pity. “There used to be a time when I was quite useful,” she said wistfully. “Mayhap that time will come again.”

Rhodes was feeling badly now. Samarra had been a warrior her entire life and he’d essentially forced her out of it. He was the one who had asked her to go against her natural instincts. With a sidelong glance at Constantine, he put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and turned her for the keep.

“There will be a time when you can fight alongside me again,” he assured her quietly. “But now is not the time. You have children to protect, including one in your belly, and that is the greatest calling for you. I may protect the fortress, but you protect my heart and soul. If I were to lose you and the boys, I could not go on. You protect me, Samarra. Does that make sense?”

She looked at him, his eyes glittering in the weak light from the torches. He’d never really presented his thoughts in such a way and, in truth, she did understand him. She didn’t feel quite so useless when he put it that way.

“It does,” she said. “But you will still call upon me if you need me, won’t you?”

He smiled faintly and kissed her tender lips. “I will always need you,” he whispered, his mouth against hers. “And I will always love you. Go inside, now. It is my wish.”

When he spoke like that, he turned her into putty. She would do anything he asked. But she also wasn’t so dull that she didn’t realize he was manipulating her on some level. Still, she didn’t mind. She had his heart, and he had hers, and that was all that mattered in the end.

Kissing him once more, Samarra took her son back into the keep, leaving Rhodes standing there, watching her go. He didn’t move until she went inside and bolted the door. Only then did he return his attention to Constantine.

By now, the fortress had quieted down considerably because the French pirates and their sleek vessel had just beached down below. As Constantine and Rhodes rushed up to the battlements to watch the ensuing ambush, Constantine muttered to Rhodes.

“I thought you were going to have trouble with my sister,” he said. “If there is a battle, she wants to be part of it. She has always been that way.”

Rhodes reached the crenellation of the battlements, protected by a section of stone wall as he watched the French disembark down below. Because of the mist, he could barely see them.

“You can take the sword from the woman but you cannot take the woman from the sword,” he replied quietly. Now, Constantine was standing beside him and they were watching the activity together. “Your sister’s warrior ways were what I first fell in love with but it is something I have asked her to surrender. I have often wondered if that was wrong of me, if I should have simply let her be what she was.”

There was shouting down on the beach now as men burst forth from the trees lining the sand and a full-scale brawl commenced. Constantine watched with interest as the French pirates were engaged by hundreds of angry English soldiers.

“I have known the woman my entire life, Rhodes,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you that she needed you. A sword in her hand would only take her so far in life. What you did… you gave her everything she needed, only she did not realize it. I believe she realizes it now.”

Rhodes was watching the fight below, which wasn’t much of a fight. The French were quickly overwhelmed and it was only a matter of time before they were all either killed or captured and their ship taken a prize by Constantine. But even as he watched the battle, his thoughts drifted to Samarra. It seemed that she was never far from his thoughts, no matter what.

“I hope so,” he said. “I need to know I have not made her unhappy.”

“You have made her delirious with joy.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

“I will say something else.”

“What?”

Constantine pointed to the sands down below, the battle that was quickly ending. “That ship I am about to take from the French bastards….”

Rhodes rolled his eyes. “Christ, Con, if you say that one more time in front of Rex, Samarra will beat us both.”

Constantine started to laugh. “As I was saying, that ship I am about to take from the French bastards – take a good look at it. Rex shall be sailing it in about twenty years.”

Rhodes eyes narrowed. “If that is true, then I shall take your first-born son and swear him to service for me.”

Constantine shrugged. “So my son will have a noble profession and yours will not. I can live with it.”

Rhodes was irritated with the overly-smug pirate. “And I cannot. Now I am sorry I helped you with the French. It would have been better for me and for Rex had they caught you.”

Constantine was enjoying Rhodes’ distress. He patted the man on the back as he turned away from the battlements.

“The French could not catch me,” he said, “nor can the Spaniards. The Scots, on the other hand… well, they are my brethren, as odd as it seems. This shall not be the last you see of me, dearest Rhodes. I will return for your sons and take them to sea with me.”

“My sons will do as I say.”

Constantine was grinning as he took the first step of the stairs down into the bailey. “Just as you did as your father wanted? I have heard the story, Rhodes. Think carefully before you make that declaration about your sons. They could very well grow up to defy you just as you defied your father.”

Rhodes broke into a grin in spite of himself. “Cheeky devil,” he growled, turning to look at Constantine. “Defying my father was the best thing I ever did.”

Constantine’s eyes glimmered in the torchlight. “Then remember that when it comes to your sons choosing their destiny,” he said. “Whether they sail with me, or whether they fight with you, all men must make the decisions that are best for them regardless of what their father says.”

They were wise parting words and Rhodes knew he was right. As Constantine headed down to the bailey and, ultimately out to the beach where the French had been subdued, Rhodes found himself thinking of his sons and the men they would become someday. Would they defy his wishes to find their own destinies in life?

Considering the stubbornness of their parents, Rhodes couldn’t help but think that, perhaps, the men in the de Leybourne family were indeed masters of their own destinies.

They, too, would have to find their happiness just as he had.

It was the call in the heart of every man.

 

 

*** THE END ***

 

 

Children of Samarra and Rhodes

Rex

Reed

Reyne

Rhiannon

Roan

Rosamunde