By Possession (22 page)

“And what did he say while he lay dying? About Edith?”

“ 'Twas tragic to see their love and sorrow. I was pulled in to witness his words to her. Gave her and her people
the freedom. About time, what with him setting her above everyone like a lady when we all knew she was no different than the rest of us. Should have done it years before if he meant to. What good was the freedom then, with herself sick already and not long for the world?”

“Was a priest present?”

“Aye. And we all made our marks on some parchment.”

“You are very sure that he included Edith's people? Her daughter?”

She nodded. “Spoke of Moira like his own. Wanted her free. Makes sense. She hadn't lived like us for some years, had she? Hard to go back to that once you know better. I certainly couldn't, for all the work here.”

He thumbed in his purse and slipped a shilling next to the mark. “You are very sure that he included the daughter?”

Alice looked up in surprise.

Another shilling topped the other. “Positive? You could swear it?”

She licked her lips. “It was some years ago. Whether I could swear it …”

A third shilling joined the stack.

“Seems that wasn't so clear, now that I recall. Spoke of it, but it wasn't on that parchment, I don't believe.”

Addis nodded. She slid out a plump hand to scoop up the coins.

He grabbed her wrist before she got them. “I think that you should join the pilgrims traveling to Canterbury.”

“Make a pilgrimage! There's too much to be done here. I might be gone a month, walking all the way down to the shrine and back.”

“Think of the benefit to your soul. There is coin enough there to pay someone to help your cousin while you are gone.”

She considered that. “Aye, well, I've always wanted to make the pilgrimage, if truth be told. One hears of such wonders from the others. It is said the cathedral is like heaven itself.”

Addis added another shilling to the pile. “Perhaps you will say a prayer for me at the shrine of St. Thomas.”

“Certainly, my lord.” She glanced to the coins. “Will that be all? I've these cups to wash and …”

He pushed the candle closer to her. Not a clever woman, and too frightened to lie effectively. “Nay, that is not all. I want you to tell me about Claire's time at Barrowburgh after I left. I want to hear about Brian's birth and my father's death.”

The thick brows shot up into half circles. She met his gaze warily. “Not much to tell.”

“All the same, I will hear it.”

“Better to let the dead lie in peace.”

“Start with the boy. Did she show affection to him while she lived?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “As much as could be expected. He was conceived in violence, wasn't he?”

He heard the condemnation that even her fear could not hide. “Is that what she said? If my wife confided that to you, perhaps we need to start earlier. I would hear what Claire told you. I would learn all of it.”

Addis stared at the stack of coins on the solar's table. He had found them beneath a stone in the hearth, in the hiding place his mother had once shown him as a boy. Joan and Henry had missed this little cache.

Thirty pounds. It would not go far in hiring an army.

His thoughts drifted back to the coins left in the tavern with Alice. A high price to pay for a woman he could
not bed. The mark alone would have hired a knight for a month. Well worth it though, if it got Alice out of Southwark for a month or so. He should feel guilty about bribing away Moira's pledge about Bernard, but his need for her would not let him. The story did not release her of her obligations to Darwendon for the reasons he had explained at the hallmotte, but he did not want to tangle over legalities with her now.

Alice had not wanted to speak of Claire. She might easily betray Moira, the bondwoman who had been raised above her natural place, but she had not wanted to discuss her lady. Nor had he wanted to hear it. He had only suffered it because he needed to know now. He had already surmised much of the story and little that he had heard this evening had surprised him. He should have felt more sympathy when Alice described Claire's loneliness and isolation, but a part of him had been glad to hear that the woman who had let him face hell on his own had seen something of it herself.

He let himself picture her for the first time in years and the memory of her beauty almost seduced him into understanding. A woman whose appearance could devastate the strong had little need of internal strength. The Claires of the world took without asking because everyone insisted on providing whatever they wanted. Small wonder that she had no practice in giving, and had been incapable of it even under the demands of duty.

The memories created a bitter taste in his mouth. He turned back to the coins and his calculations of how many men they would hire and for how long. Selling the gold armlets would make a considerable difference, but if the king failed him and he had to lay siege to Barrowburgh he would need war machines and a large force and possibly many months. Even so, his chances of success were slim,
and any victory might be short-lived if Simon procured aid from the Despensers.

A woman's sharp scream suddenly shattered his contemplation. He listened alertly but heard nothing more. It had sounded like Moira. He was out of the chamber and down the stairs even before he had decided to move.

In the torchlight of the courtyard he saw her by the gate. She twisted in an unnatural way and it took a moment to realize that a man held her body, with his hand over her mouth. Addis strode toward them, reaching instinctively for his absent sword.

“Unhand her,” he ordered.

The man looked up from where he had been speaking in her ear. He wore long dark hair tied back at his nape and the plain garments of a London townsman.

“I could not risk her slamming the gate,” the man explained. “My apologies for frightening you, madam, but tonight's business will not wait for morning.”

“Release her,” Addis warned again, tightening his fist in case the man refused.

A bright smile beamed. “Pity to have to. She is a nice armful at that. You will not scream again, will you, madam?”

She shook her head and the man stepped away. “You are Sir Addis? I must ask you to wait here a short while. I need to get the others.”

The man slipped back out through the gate. Several minutes later he returned leading five men. One dressed in clerical garb led the others. “Addis de Valence?”

“I am.”

“My name is Michael. I am clerk to John Stratford, Bishop of Winchester. Myself and the others would like to speak with you. I apologize for the hour but it is essential that none other knows that I am in London.”

“Let us go into the hall. Moira, have Jane pour some ale for these men.”

“She has retired. I will do it.”

Addis brought the men into the hall. They settled themselves around a table. “I would know your names,” he said. “If you seek me out at night I assume that your reasons are not friendly to the king.”

Michael nodded. “You are an intelligent man, Sir Addis. It is a relief to deal with one for a change. Nay, our errand is not friendly to the king but it is most friendly to the realm. There is no harm in your knowing our names, but I must ask you to swear to speak to no one about this meeting and what we discuss here.”

If they wanted an oath it would be treason that they discussed. He should send them off at once, but his days of waiting for the king's attention had not left him in a very loyal mood. He swore as they wanted.

Michael pointed around the table. “This is Sir Robert, Lord of Cavenleigh in Yorkshire. Thomas Wake, son by marriage to Thomas of Lancaster. Peter Comyn, cousin of Elizabeth Comyn, who is one of Lancaster's heirs. Sir Matthew Warewell, once of the king's royal household.”

Addis noticed that the man who had held Moira was not introduced, and sat a little aside as if he were not truly a part of the group. When Moira arrived with the ale he got up to help her. The cleric's servant, he guessed.

“There are many others,” Michael said. “You are not alone in your dissatisfaction with events in this realm. Robert here was forced to sign a note pledging that he owed Hugh Despenser twenty thousand pounds in order to keep his land. Peter's cousin was imprisoned until she made over a similar obligation and relinquished two estates. Sir Matthew's brother was executed even though he played no part in the rebellion. Unfortunately his lands
adjoined those of a Despenser favorite. The king's men flout all sense of law and custom and know no shame. It will be the same for you.”

“Perhaps. I have not spoken with the king yet.”

“You have tried for several days. We know of your efforts. It will come to naught. Look at what happened to your kinsman Aymer. The Earl of Pembroke spoke for compromise and tried to influence the king to the right path. He became an inconvenience and was murdered while he sat on a privy.”

“I am aware of all that you describe. I have not sat in the king's anteroom and walked through this city with my ears covered. I also know that it is not just the barons who are disgusted, but the town burghers and the common people as well. No one is pleased with Edward's choice of friends and the influence that they wield over him. If you have come to tell me about my country and warn me about these men, do not concern yourself.”

Michael spread his hands. “I can see that you are a man who likes to get to the point. Let it be so. I am just come from Hainault, where the bishop is in exile with Queen Isabelle. He is there like the bishops of Hereford and Norwich because his life was endangered when he was made bishop over the king's choice, and because he spoke for decent governance to men who do not know the meaning of the word.”

Addis had learned all about the exiled bishops. Stratford was an ambitious man, but he was known for good counsel. He had tried to support the king until circumstances and conscience demanded that he speak out.

“The queen has betrothed her son, Prince Edward, to Philippa of Hainault, the daughter of the count. In return the count has promised aid to Isabelle. She has said that she and the boy will not return here while the Despensers are in power. We got rid of them once, but when the rebellion
failed the king brought them back and their influence is greater than ever. The return of the queen and the prince cannot be effected until the Despensers are removed again, but a parliament will not achieve it this time.”

Now they were getting down to it. Five pairs of eyes searched to see his reaction to this overture.

The long-haired man still sat aside, drinking his ale. Moira entered from the kitchen and set some fruit on the table, then disappeared back through the door. The disturbance at the gate must have pulled her from her room while she prepared to retire because her hair was unbound and uncovered. She wore one of his mother's linen robes, a simple green one that scooped at the neck and stretched across her breasts before flowing freely. The servant's quiet examination was not missing any of it.

“I trust that you are not going to ask me to kill Hugh Despenser,” Addis said, trying to ignore the attention Moira was provoking. “It would be almost impossible, and solve nothing.”

“Nay,” Sir Matthew blustered. “If any kill him, it will be me, and Lancaster's brother, Henry, will hone the ax.”

“We only ask if you are with us should other steps be taken,” Michael said.

“That depends on the steps.”

“Isabelle is raising an army. The Count of Hainault is aiding her. Some time soon she will be ready.”

“You speak of an invasion? It had better be the largest army known to man.”

“Perhaps not. Edward has lost the confidence of the barons and the townsmen. It is a small group who still are loyal to him. If the country welcomes Isabelle …”

“Do you think that Edward will not fight?”

“There is no standing army. He will not have time to call a levy, and if he does few will come.”

“You speak of deposing a king.”

“We speak of setting aside an incompetent, corrupt ruler, and placing his rightful heir in his place.”

“Let us consider frankly what that means. The prince is underage. If a way is found to depose the king and crown his son, there must be a regent. It is said that Isabelle has openly taken Roger Mortimer as her lover. Even when I was a youth he was known as a grasping, ambitious man. If he is regent, or she, we could have another Hugh Despenser.”

“It will be a council, not one man, who advises the young king. Any power Mortimer accrues will be short-lived. The prince is fifteen,” Thomas Wake said.

“It is a rash thing that you propose.”

“It has been done before. There is precedent. Did not his own father set aside a king of Scotland?” Thomas asked.

Addis considered the audacious plan. If the people supported it, it could work. If it failed, everyone who touched it would be cut into pieces and hanged from crossroad gibbets. They had all better be reading the mood of the country correctly.

“We came for a reason,” Michael said. “You are not known as one of us, and we will see that you never are. We have need of someone who can move about without being followed. In two weeks Isabelle will send word saying where and when she will land. The messenger needs to be met on the coast and the instructions brought back here. We thought that you might do that.”

“Why me?”

“It will be a man from Hainault. A merchant. He will not know any of us. Your scar…it cannot be faked. If I say only speak with you, he will know if it is the right man.”

So someone had finally found a use for his badge of identity.

They did not press him for a decision. The conversation shifted to more descriptions of the Despensers' excesses and to stories of families destroyed by their greed and injustice. All the while Addis contemplated their request. His father would not have approved. Patrick had believed in diplomacy and took his oath of fealty to heart. But Addis had never sworn to Edward, and would not do so unless Barrowburgh was returned to him.

Moira arrived with some bread and cheese. The long-haired man observed her subtly as she bent to place it on the table. Addis shot the man a warning glance which he did not see as he angled to watch her walk back across the hall.