“As you will,” he says. Turning to his men he raises his voice and says, “The Hawk wants us at Brook’s Hollow at dawn.” Then he kicks his horse and they ride away down the street, with cries and whoops, his men follow.
James gets into his saddle as Jiron asks, “What’s going on?”
“Seems we’re going to have company,” he explains. “Right now we need to catch up with Illan, he’s on the way to the cemetery to find his wife.”
“Right,” Jiron says and they get moving.
Illan’s group hasn’t progressed all that far down the street by the time James and the others arrive. They remain behind them as they wind through the streets toward the far side of town where the cemetery is located.
When they get there, Illan has Jorry and Uther keep an eye on Faetherton while he and the guard proceed into the cemetery. They all watch Illan as he and the guard make their way through the headstones and crypts, toward the last resting place of his beloved Alaina. About midway through the cemetery, they come to a stop and Illan falls to his knees.
It looks as if the guard says something to him and then Illan replies. The guard then begins walking away from where Illan is kneeling beside his wife’s grave.
“Should we stop him?” Jiron asks James indicating the guard.
Shaking his head he says, “No. Illan told him he could leave if he showed him where his wife was buried.”
The guard glances toward them and by the time he’s reached the edge of the graveyard has broken into a run and looks to be fleeing for his life. “Guess he felt there might be a change of heart,” offers Miko.
“Looks that way,” agrees Jiron. Turning to James he says, “How long should we wait?”
“As long as he needs,” he says quietly.
Faetherton stands there quietly for several minutes. Then when Illan isn’t making any move to leave he says, “You know you all are in a lot of trouble.”
Jiron laughs, “I suppose.”
“So?” Yern says.
“If you let me go I’ll go easy on you when the time comes,” he says.
“I doubt if you’ll live that long,” Uther says.
“Are you threatening me?” he says offended.
Uther looks at him and nods over to where Illan is returning, “I’m not the one you should be worried about.”
Faetherton turns to see Illan stalking from the graveyard wearing a grim expression. The color drains from his face as he sees Illan’s hand resting on the pommel of his sword.
Illan comes to stand before Faetherton, the others gathered around. “I charge you with the death of my wife, the wrongful imprisonment of my son and his family. I also charge you with the illegal seizure of power here in Seastar. How do you plead?”
Faetherton gasps when he hears that. “How do I plead?” he replies indignantly. “Who are you to make charges against me? You, who killed with reckless abandon many years ago. You hold no authority here.”
“Is there anyone here who has anything to say on this man’s behalf?” he asks. A silence hangs in the air as he looks to each in turn, finally settling on James, of everyone there, he’s the most likely to voice an objection. To the surprise of all, he shakes his head.
“So be it,” he says and draws his sword.
“Wait!” Faetherton cries, the doom of the moment finally becoming real to him. He tries to make a break for it but Jorry and Uther grab him and drag him back. Forcing him to his knees, they hold him there to face Illan’s judgment.
“You are found guilty, the sentence is death!” he says as he lashes out and severs his head from his body. Jorry and Uther quickly back away to avoid being sprayed by the blood as it fountains from his neck.
“Battlefield justice,” Potbelly says.
Wiping his sword on the dead man’s clothes, Illan says, “Let’s go.” Moving to his horse, he mounts and leads them back through town and to his estate. As they leave, James glances back to the dead man and shudders.
Arriving at the estate, they find two of Ceadric’s men standing watch in front by the gate. They come to attention when he arrives and one opens the gate to allow them through. Up at the manor house everyone’s in a flurry of activity.
As they leave the gate behind them and make their way toward the house, word begins to spread of their return and all activity ceases. The front door to the house is open and before they arrive, Ceadric, Delia and the others come out to greet them.
“Are they settled in?” Illan asks Ceadric.
“Yes, sir,” he replies. “They’re in the dining room having a bite to eat, they were all quite famished. I have riders out to gather those who will have time to reach Brook’s Hollow by dawn.”
“Good,” he says as he dismounts. Caleb and Moyil come forward to take their horses. Illan moves into the house.
James signals for Delia, Jiron and Miko to follow him and he takes them from the bustle surrounding the manor house to an area where they can have some privacy. “I guess you realize things have changed slightly?” he asks.
“You could say that,” Jiron replies.
“Poor man,” Delia says, saddened by Illan’s loss. Then an angry look comes to her as she says, “Those children were on Coryntia’s doorstep. Any longer and none would have survived.”
James nods in agreement. “Illan took care of Lord Faetherton.”
“He’s dead,” adds Jiron.
“Good,” she says. “I don’t usually wish ill of another, but this was reprehensible.”
“I agree,” states James. “Our small band is now practically an army.”
Delia looks questioningly at him and Jiron explains. “It’s Illan. As Black Hawk, he commanded a sizeable force of men, men it would seem who are still loyal to him. Tomorrow at Brook’s Hollow, wherever that is, we’ll see just how much our group has grown.”
“Do you think he’ll revert to his old ways?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” replies James. “He said he still follows me. If I don’t ask him to, he will likely continue on as he has been. Only this time with an army at his back.”
“With what we have coming ahead, that can only be a good thing,” interjects Miko.
Silence fills the air as James glances from one to the other. “I was hoping to have a small band which may remain unnoticed and easily escape. If I take an army into battle, what chance do we have of that?”
“Good point,” says Jiron.
“So what do you plan to do?” Miko asks.
“Play it by ear,” he tells them. “As a wise man once said, ‘No battle plan ever lasts past the first fall of the sword.’ Already the plans I’ve made are undergoing change.” He glances over to the dozen or so men beginning to set up camp on Illan’s front lawn. “More men can’t be a bad thing, can it?”
Jiron laughs, “Hardly. Have you actually looked at these guys? They’re battle hardened veterans who are no strangers to war. A better bunch of men you couldn’t ask for. True, they’re getting on in age, but not so much that it will hinder them.”
Nodding, James says, “Perhaps you’re right.” Already, plans and strategies for how he’ll use these men in the upcoming battles are beginning to take shape. “Yes, perhaps you are right.” Smiling, he takes them back to the manor house.
Chapter Six
The following morning, Illan takes his leave of Alric and his family. He and his son were up talking through the night about his wife, their future and more inconsequential matters. He offered to leave some men behind for
