While Angels Slept Read Online Free PDF

to be dead, too. You are my only father left. Why
do you want to leave me?”
    Charles stared
at him. The determination of his actions began to slip away, fading until he
could no longer hold on to it. But he wanted badly to maintain his focus.
Still, Hunt’s soft words drilled into him as harshly as those arrows that had
killed his son. They weakened him until he could no longer stand it. With a
sob, high-pitched and uncontrolled, the torch tumbled from his fingers. Tevin
dove for it before it could hit the ground and ignite the oil surrounding them.
    The flame blew
out before Tevin caught it. He lay in the dirt and oil, looking up to see
Charles throw his arms around Hunt and weep like a woman. It was a
heart-wrenching scene, the grief for Brac finally pouring out through every
vein. But it did not erase the terror he had just put them all through. It was
a struggle for Tevin not to become infuriated. While Charles held his grandson
and wept, Tevin picked himself up and dusted off the dirt.
    Cantia could
hardly hold back the sobs. She was livid at what Charles had just put them all
through, yet she could see his naked anguish for the loss of Brac. He’d held it
in as long as he could and called it strength of character. But the strength
would not hold, and the grief demanded to be felt. As she walked towards them,
she thought to snatch Hunt away to punish Charles for his uncontrolled lunacy.
But she hadn’t the heart. Instead, she went to Tevin.
    “My lord,” she
said, her voice quivering with emotion. “I have not the words to adequately
thank you for what you have done for us. I fear that you will leave Rochester
believing we are a foolish bunch. Believe me when I say that we are not. We are
simply… shattered at the moment. Please forgive us our weakness.”
    His dark eyes
were intense. “There is nothing to forgive, Lady Penden. You and your family
have suffered a great tragedy. Your emotions are understandable.”
    “You are far too
kind, my lord.”
    He lifted a dark
eyebrow at her. “Nay, I am not.” He handed Myles the torch when the knight came
up behind Lady Penden. “In fact, I must ask your forgiveness for what I am
about to do.”
    “What is that?”
    Tevin’s gaze
moved between Cantia and Myles. “I must rally the men of Rochester once again.
We ride at dawn.”
    “My lord?” Myles
asked, somewhat surprised.
    “Dartford
Crossing has been captured once again by Stephen’s forces,” Tevin told him. “We
must retake it.”
    Cantia drew in a
sharp breath and lowered her gaze, unwilling to let them see her fear. Tevin
waited for more of a response, but she gave none. He focused on Myles.
    “Rally your men,
de Lohr,” he said. “Make them ready to ride before sun up. Tell them of our
destination; I would have them understand that we must retake this bridge at
all costs. Let Brac Penden’s death be the rally cry. I refuse to let that man
die in vain.”
    Myles bowed
swiftly and was gone, but not before casting a long glance at Charles, still
huddled on the ground with Hunt in his arms. Tevin would never forget the look
of disgust on the man’s face; it was difficult to have such little respect for
those you served. He watched de Lohr quit the yard before emitting a low, sharp
whistle between his teeth. It was the signal for his knights, like one would
whistle for a horse or a dog. The knights knew that sound and knew it well. The
five of them were still in the yard, near the gate, and immediately looked over
at Tevin when they heard the shrill sign. All he had to do was nod and they
disappeared through the gate to carry out their liege’s wishes.
    The servants had
drifted away when the crisis was over, leaving the kitchen yard essentially
empty. Tevin stood a few feet away from Cantia, watching her as she struggled
with her emotions. He took a few steps and stood next to her.
    “I will take the
Steward with me,” he said quietly. “Perhaps taking him back to battle, to the
same place