The Lion of the North by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online

of death. Unfortunately, there were several other wagons bearing the dead that they had been able to gather from the slaughter at Towton, so the very air around them smelled of putrefaction. It was as if they were bringing death back to Alnwick as it followed them home from Towton.
    Kenton, the most stoic and professional of all knights, watched Atticus’ expression as the wagon bearing his brother’s body moved past him. He could see the grief in the man’s eyes even if his weary face remained expressionless. Kenton was hurting, too; they all were. And they were all equally furious with the news that two of their own had turned on Titus. Though it was not their right, all of Northumberland’s remaining knights had that same sense of vengeance that Atticus had. Treacherous knights, men they had trusted, were an insult and a danger to them all.
    But that was something they could not focus on at the moment; they had an earl to bury, friends to bury, and a castle to secure. Vengeance would have to come at another time, as Warenne had stressed the entire ride back to Alnwick. Since de Winter’s base was in Norfolk and not far from the Duke of Norfolk’s seat, de Winter and his thrashed army had returned to Alnwick with the Northumberland army in the hopes of healing the injured and recuperating somewhat before making the long trek home. Moreover, it was clear that de Winter was very concerned for Atticus. They all were.
    With that in mind, Kenton moved to take over Atticus’ duties and let the man deal with his brother’s wife. He addressed Atticus’ last statement.
    “Then go to Lady de Wolfe now,” Kenton said quietly. “She was quite broken up the last time I saw her.”
    Atticus didn’t look particularly enthusiastic about it as he glanced at the big, brown-stoned keep of Alnwick that had been there since the days of William the Conqueror. It was old and solid, the seat of Northumberland for centuries. It had been home to him for years but now all he felt was emptiness when he looked at it; too many memories of Titus within those old walls. He took a deep, sorrowful breath.
    “I will go,” he said. “Did you tell her about Tertius also?”
    Kenton nodded. “She asked,” he replied. “I told her that her brother is well.”
    Atticus lifted his eyebrows to that statement, sorrow in his action. Her brother was alive, yet his was not. He realized that there was some bitterness towards her because of it. “I have not seen Tertius since we entered Alnwick,” he said, looking around. “If you see the man, tell him to go to his sister. Mayhap he can bring her some comfort.”
    Kenton merely nodded. As Atticus put his helm on the saddle of the young, big-boned warhorse that had belonged to the earl, de Winter rode up in to their midst, bringing up the rear of the army astride his vibrant, red rouncey. As the horse threw its head around, spraying foam from its mouth, Warenne flipped up the visor on his helm and looked at Atticus and Kenton.
    “That is the last of the army,” he said. “Thank you again for letting us seek shelter here while we tend the wounded, Atticus. We shall try not to be terrible guests.”
    Atticus smiled weakly. “I would put you to work mucking the stables to pay for your keep,” he teased his friend. “But since you are allergic to horse shite, I suppose I will spare you.”
    Kenton had a lazy half-grin on his face at the young earl’s expense as Warenne laughed outright. “Put me in the kitchens, then,” he said. “See if you do not find horse shite in your stew someday. That will teach you to make a slave out of me.”
    Kenton chuckled and even Atticus snorted. “Unfortunately, I believe you,” he said. Then, he glanced at the gates of Alnwick as the chains tightened up as men began to close it. “Kenton will show you where your men will bed down. I will put you in the keep, however. You will enjoy all of the hospitality that Alnwick has to offer, but for now, I must see to