Kingmaker

Army of York #2

Stafford had left the meeting with their King Edward in a huff. Muttering to himself. Howard had followed after him, having to take a jog to keep up with the war hungry knight. "You cannot be serious about killing her son. He's nothing but a baby, Stafford" The knight didn't respond, merely headed out of the building and to his horse. "You either hate her and want her dead or you don't, Howard. Choose now" ordered Stafford, mounting his horse as he looked down to his old friend. Howard bit his lip for a moment, before moving to his own horse. Mounting quickly. "Where do we ride?" he asked, looking to Stafford. "Warwick Castle. We are going to pay them a visit"
"You think they will let us in? Stafford" started Howard, only to be shushed by Stafford. "They will let us in, Howard" he sounded so sure as he spoke. Howard chose not to speak further. Instead, he merely followed Stafford in silence. The man had slowly become more and more obsessed with killing Ava. He was as loyal to York as he could get, and with her betraying the house AFTER he was set to marry her. He had lost his patience, tolerance and his will to get her back alive. Now, he wanted nothing more than to torture her and leave Sir Richard in grieving for his wife.
Stafford was now a man of war. More so than he had been before.

----

Ava silently cuddled her newborn as she watched Neville and Plantagenet training their horses in the main yard. She sang softly to her son, his bright blue eyes gazing at her as she did so. Two of her own soldiers stood a few feet behind her. Acting as a small form of protection. They smiled under their helmets at her singing. Through all the battles and bloodshed, she still sang softly and smiled at her boy. She still had some of her innocence. Even if she had been torn apart by the losses of hundreds of soldiers. Since the birth of her baby almost a month ago now, she had trained with her soldiers. She had ran drills with them. She had trained her horse. Taken part in jousting training. All whilst caring for her son. Her soldiers often took the child as she trained. Playing with him so that his laugh brought light to the aura over the army. The child had been a great thing for Ava and Neville. And for their armies. The men often asked to help with the child. It all made Ava smile.
Since having Llane, Ava had returned her body to its former state. Regaining her slender body. An extreme fitness regime with Neville had helped her to get back that body. As she watched the knights, she smiled now. Resting her son in a small wicker basket on the ground right beside her. She bundled him in blankets for warmth. Rolling her shoulder. The old pain of the bolt injury returning. The pain came and went. She stood for a moment. Looking to her soldiers. "Watch him, please" she said with a smile. Nodding to her men as they both moved to sit near the baby.
Ava silently moved to the castle gates now. Gazing out into the horizon. She gazed over the hills, smiling as ewes ran with their lambs to fresh grass for grazing. There was still a chill in the air, but lambing season was well underway. Lazily, she leaned against the wall for a moment. Closing her eyes as the gentle wind brushed her cheeks. In doing this, she had failed to notice the two approaching York knights. She had unintentionally made things extremely easy for them at this moment. Ava's soldiers had seen her move to the gates. So they knew where she was.
As the knights approached, Stafford smirked. Drawing a length of rope from the side of his saddle that would usually be used for catching animals for food. He watched Ava as he approached. It still sickened him to see her in Lancaster colours. And it probably always would sicken him. Ava smiled, moving to return to her son and soldiers, turning her back to the knights; still failing to see them. Keeping his smirk, he lassoed Ava around the neck as though she were an animal. The rope instantly tightening, earning a gasping breath from her as she was dragged along the ground. Howard had remained silent as Stafford tightened the rope around his hand; Ava kicking at the dirt with her boots, scratching at the rope around her neck. She loosened it ever so slightly, screaming for help before the rope once more tightened.
Stafford growled under his breath. But wanting to aggravate Lancaster more, he rode into view of the soldiers and now, Sir Richard and Sir George. "Thank you very much for the traitor. A fine addition to the torture chamber" He said with a dark laugh as he tugged harshly on the rope, dragging Ava into view. Tears streamed down her cheeks, depraved of oxygen. She scratched at the rope, kicked at the dirt over and over again. Her eyes, glazed, looked to Sir Richard, then to her son. She was losing it all. From above, an archer loaded his crossbow. One of Ava's own men aiming at Stafford's thigh. He knew that killing the man would cause far more trouble than they needed.
"Let her go" snarled Neville, taking a step forwards. "One more step and she will be slain here" snapped Stafford, drawing his sword and directing it towards Ava. Sir Richard froze, watching as Ava gave up her fight against the rope. Now simply holding onto it around her throat, keeping the smallest amount of room between it and her flesh. She felt her back throbbing intensly, her shoulder aching in protest. Her Lancaster robes dusty from being dragged along the ground. Without a second to spare, Ava's archer released his bolt. Hitting his target directly where he had wanted. In what seemed like a flurry of dust, and yelling as Stafford's horse reared up, a yell of Llane echoed above the neighing and galloping hoofbeats.
As Neville and Plantagenet rushed to Ava's side...
Sir Howard had remained, a silent attack in the comotion. He left in silence. A single glance to the knights.
Eyes went to the bundle in the basket near two of Ava's soldiers. The men laying dead. The trio watched as soldiers rushed to their fallen comrades side. Several men crowding the basket that had held the baby of their commander.
Fearing the worst, Ava gripped onto Neville, burying her face in his tunic as she cried in gasping breaths whilst Plantagenet cut the rope from her neck. The knight tightened his arms around his love, pushing his nose into her hair gently as he too feared the worst. Neither of them dared to look. The child hadn't cried as men were killed around him. The soldiers that had rushed over were silent. Some dragged away the bodies of their friends to be buried. Finding throwing knives lodged in the finest slits of their armour.

If their child had been slain. War would be their only concern now.

[Authors Note: Is Llane dead?! Had one of Sir Howard's throwing knives been for the child? And what will come of the archers attack on Stafford?!
Don't freak over the child. Characters come and go. And I'm not even 100% sure if he will be slain yet or not. I'm still deciding. But this part was again, a bridge to give me room to continue. York got their hands on Ava for a moment. They will be angry at this failure to kill her or capture her securely. Keep reading, folks. There's more to come.
And yeah. There's a lot of time skips. Writing a baby is so unbeliveably dull so...]