Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (17 page)

“Henry wanted to pair you with Jaenelle the Mad? Was that afore or after her father used a trephine to drill a hole into her head?”

“Slightly afore,” Fulke said sarcastically. “In Baron de Wrotham’s defense, he thought her possessed at the time, not mad from practicing witchcraft.”

“If you ask me,” Albin said, “one would have to be mad to believe in possession.”

After riding a few paces in silence, Fulke said, “To be perfectly honest, it was not for my lack of trying.”

“What are we talking about?” 

“Bronwyn,” Fulke said. “She rightly shunned my attempts at flattery. Once I found out her affections lay with Euric, I halted my pursuit immediately.”

“Does Reina know about your unrequited flirtation with Bronwyn?”

“I met Bronwyn well afore meeting Reina, but to answer your question, yes,” Fulke said. “By now, my wife knows everything there is to know about me.”

“Then all is well and good,” Albin said, “for the ladies seem quite fond of each other.”

“There is no reason why they should not be.” Fulke hesitated slightly. “Have you ever noticed anything awry about Bronwyn?”

“You mean apart from her refusing your advances?” Albin shook his head. “I cannot say that I have. Why do you ask?”

“I find when she is at ease she tends to speak in the most peculiar way.”

“She does come from a small village far from us,” Albin said. “Mayhap that is why you feel that way.”

“It is more than that,” Fulke confided. “She and Euric have always been so secretive about her past. I fear that Bronwyn may also dabble in the Wiccan way.”

“Now you sound like the justice,” Albin scoffed. “She and Euric regularly attend mass with us.”

“I know,” Fulke said with a shrug, “perhaps it is just fanciful thinking on my part. They have proven to be dear and loyal friends to us. Forget I even mentioned it.”

“Consider it forgotten,” Albin said. “Besides, even if Bronwyn were a follower of the old ways, she uses it for good. She saved my life, and is now caring for Lecie. I am deeply indebted to her.”

“You are right. I owe her a debt as well for those very reasons.” Fulke looked over at his oldest friend. “I suppose we should make an attempt not to focus so much on ourselves. Talan’s troubles currently trump our own.”

“If I did not know King Henry half so well I would worry less.”

“In truth, he is fickle,” Fulke said, “yet I have faith that he can be reasoned with. He needs to maintain loyal allies if his daughter is to assume the throne.”

“I hope you see the irony in your plan to use Stephen,” Albin said. “It is a dangerous game you play.”

“I am open to suggestions.”

“You are the strategist, not I. Whilst you work your wiles in the palace, I shall be worrying for us all.”

“A few prayers may not be amiss,” Fulke said. 

They fell into a companionable silence, each lost to their own troubled thoughts.

On the outskirts of Hitchin, Albin glanced over. “Have you ever noticed a pattern to our troubles?”

“I know what you are thinking, and you are far too superstitious,” Fulke said. “Sir Everard’s message has nothing to do with the trouble we now find ourselves in.”

“Hear my reasoning afore you discard the idea,” Albin said. “The day I departed for Rochester on the fated trip that came close to seeing the last of me and my wife, a messenger arrived from Lincolnshire Wolds. Then yesterday the justice arrived at Castell Maen close on the heels of another messenger from Lincolnshire Wolds.”

“I am fairly certain you are attempting to make a point.”

“Is not it apparent to you? Messengers from Kenwick Keep are heralds of doom,” Albin said. “They have brought naught but calamity to our doorstep.”

“How Reina and Warin managed to thrive in such a dreary place is beyond me,” Fulke said. “Though your claim of foreshadowing extends beyond what I am currently willing to believe.”

“And if it happens again? Will you then believe me?”

“Albin, if you want to know what Reina’s father had to say, all you need do is ask.”

“Well,” Albin said, “it is none of my business.” He slanted his gaze to Fulke. “Is it?”

Fulke shook his head with a smile. “If the justice had not arrived so unexpectedly, I would have already discussed the matter with you.”

Fulke fell silent prompting Albin to say, “What matter?”

“You are so easy to rile.” Fulke chuckled. “It appears that after all of her clandestine rendezvous, Sibilla has found herself with child. The father is believed to be a cottager from the Village of Kenwick, yet knowing Reina’s half-sister I believe it could be any number of men.”

“I admit to being surprised,” Albin said. “Sibilla has gone so long without conceiving I wrongly assumed her men used Gervase’s method.”

Fulke glanced back at Gervase. “Do you mean his tried and true method of plowing the field in lieu of planting the seeds?”

“It must work,” Albin said. “Otherwise, he would be sire to a score of bastards from here to Normandy.”

“Let us see if he uses the technique when he falls in love,” Fulke said. “One tends to get carried away when there is an emotional attachment.”

“He seems fond of this Lady Adorlee he speaks so much about,” Albin said. “Mayhap she will be the one to turn his heart along with his head.”

“Mayhap,” Fulke did not sound convinced.

“How did the dour Sir Everard react to the news about his youngest daughter’s predicament?” Albin resumed the main topic.

“The messenger made no mention of his master’s state of mind. It appears Lady Baldith had a fit of madness upon discovering her daughter’s condition,” Fulke said. “Apparently, Sir Everard was forced to lock his wife in her chamber for fear she would hurt the girl.”

“I cannot say I am taken aback to hear such news. The only person completely blind to Sibilla’s wanton behavior was her mother.”

“The lady did indeed have high aspirations for her daughter,” Fulke agreed.

“How did Reina and Warin accept the news?”

“You know my wife,” Fulke said tenderly.

“She wants you to help them.”

“Regardless of her stepmother and half-sister’s past treatment of her, Reina does not want to see them suffer. Warin is far less forgiving. I do not believe he will again set foot in Lincolnshire Wolds until he returns to claim his birthright.” 

“Sir Everard is a proud man. It must have taken him much to contact you,” Albin said. “Had he the nerve to request that you take Sibilla in for her confinement?”

“If he had, I would have refused him outright,” Fulke said. “My father-in-law is of the belief that I may know of a peer who would wed Sibilla in her current condition.”

“Surely you jest? He believes a nobleman would marry the soiled daughter of a lesser peer bearing a bastard child? What did you tell him?”

“I have not yet replied,” Fulke said. “The justice arrived on our doorstep, and here we are.”

“I know what I would say,” Albin muttered. 

Fulke kept his gaze fixed in the distance. “Regardless of my wife’s wishes, my response will be similar to yours. There are some things I cannot forgive. The abuse Reina endured at their hands is one of those things.”

“Proud or not, it is beyond fathomable to me that Sir Everard would have the bollocks to ask such a thing from you after what he has done.”

“In a way, I have come to understand him. Sir Everard and Reina’s mother were deeply in love. He was a broken man after Lady Malina’s death.”

“So you believe his being heartbroken justifies his actions then and now?”

“You misunderstand,” Fulke said, “there is no justification for how he neglected his daughter. I only meant that I can sympathize with what has happened to him. If I were to lose Reina, I would not be the man I am today.”

“Nor would you blame Raine for her passing.” Albin refused to be swayed.

“Can you not imagine how you would feel if Lecie were lost to you?”

“I refuse to imagine it,” Albin said. “The inhabitants of Kenwick Keep will receive no sympathy from me. Let that be an end to the discussion afore I say something I shall regret.”

Fulke smiled at Albin’s unwavering loyalty. They remained silent as the forest gradually opened up into wide rolling hills. A cool spring breeze stirred the cloaks of the men and the sun would occasionally make an appearance through the cloud-laden sky above.   

“We could not be blessed with a finer day,” Gervase observed. “What think you, my liege?”

As if on cue, raindrops began to fall on the men. Shifting in his saddle, Fulke bent an irritated look on his knight.

“This one is on me, my liege.” Guiding his horse closer, Guy reached out to cuff Gervase. “When will you ever learn? It is bad luck to say such things. You jinx us every time.”

Rubbing the back of his head, Gervase nudged his horse away from Guy’s. “I do not believe in luck.”

“Well you should,” Guy said. “You bring the worst of it upon our heads more often than not.”

“What do you believe in, Gervase?” Euric called from his place beside Leofrick.

It looked for a moment like Gervase would not respond, then he said, “I believe in fate.”

“No wonder you are such a bumble headed dolt.” Guy chuckled.

“Guy,” Euric said, “you should not make light of another’s beliefs. How is your believing in luck any different from Gervase’s belief in fate?”

“Careful, Euric,” Albin called back. “Such enlightened talk will likely render the lads speechless.”

“Since when have I ever been rendered speechless?” Guy called before glancing over at Gervase. “Euric presents a valid argument. You have my apologies.”

“It is shaping up to be a fine day after all.” Gervase’s grin melted when the slight drizzle turned into a torrential downpour.

Chapter Fourteen

Riding astride, Mylla had convinced Talan to spur the horses into a canter. A cold drizzle had begun to fall less than a mile outside of Reading. Ominous dark clouds billowing overhead threatened worse to come. Each time Talan would cast a worried look her way, she would reassure him with a smile. She would not be the reason behind their capture. 

The trio approached the outskirts of Chertsey along the river Thames when Edmund spoke. “We need to rest the horses soon.”

“Your stubborn sister could also do with a rest,” Talan said slowing his horse to a trot. “I see a suitable place up ahead.”

“I have never known my sister to be obstinate.” Edmund looked at Mylla as if seeing her for the first time.

“Perhaps that is because you never took the time to know her.” Slowing his horse to a walk, Talan led the way through a thicket of trees to the muddy bank of the churning river.

Mylla halted her horse alongside Talan’s. “Am I to be considered Edmund’s sister when you are vexed with me and your wife when you are pleased?”

Clearly at a loss for words, Talan was slow in dismounting. 

“It appears we may have both underestimated my sister.” Dismounting, Edmund reached up to assist Mylla from the saddle. “Do you need a moment of privacy?”

Mylla flushed to be talking about such a personal topic with her brother. “I will go a little ways downstream.”

Talan scanned the direction she would be heading. “Do not wander far.”

“I shan’t.” Picking her way around young saplings, Mylla waved away the insects buzzing around her as she moved further into the trees.

“If the weather turns against us, we will find little shelter between here and Chertsey.” Leading the horses to the river to drink, Edmund eyed the sky.

“We shall not tarry here long.” Removing a cloth from his satchel, Talan began to rub down his horse.

“Mylla has changed,” Edmund said. “I have never seen her so confident.”

“I love her.” Talan paused to look back at Edmund. “She is her true self with me.”

“When I wed, I do not think I could allow my wife so much freedom,” Edmund reluctantly admitted.

“If you choose to marry for love instead of position, you may think differently when the time comes.”

“Perhaps you are right.” Edmund glanced over his shoulder when Mylla returned. “Are you hungry? Along with a bottle of mead, Father Godfrey gifted us with a round of bread, and some cheese.”

“It was very kind of him to remember the mead,” Mylla said. “I can wait to eat until we reach Chertsey, if you can.”

“See what I mean about her stubbornness?” Talan spoke to Edmund without looking away from his task.

“Indeed I do.” Walking past Mylla, he said, “I shall return directly.”

Mylla watched her brother make his way into the trees. “What did you say to him?”

“It was nothing of great import.” Rising from his task, Talan

shifted to her horse. “I believe your brother may finally be reckoning your true worth.”

“After you told him that I am stubborn?” Mylla teased.

“That was prior to our most recent conversation.” Talan grinned. “I am not convinced he approves of the more assertive you.”

“And you?” she asked. “Do you approve?”

Talan straightened to embrace her. “Whether I am vexed, sad, happy, or tired, you are my wife, and I love you.”

“Shall we be off?” Edmund’s brusqueness had returned with him.

Mylla stepped out of Talan’s embrace. “We shall follow directly, Edmund.” 

“He is a moody sot,” Talan said when Edmund once again disappeared through the trees. “Perhaps I should not have given him the benefit of the doubt.” Cinching his saddle tighter, he began to lead the horses when Mylla’s hand on his sleeve stayed him.

“I know Edmund is a difficult person to get along with, yet he is my brother. Please do not give up on him.”

“He is my brother now as well,” Talan said. “Whilst I cannot promise to hold my tongue where you are concerned, I shall endeavor to get along with him. Will that suffice?”

“It is all I ask.” Reaching up on tiptoe, Mylla kissed his cheek.

“I think you can do better than that.” Talan wrapped his free arm around Mylla’s waist to kiss her properly.

“Are we to camp here after all?” Edmund called back to them.

Talan released Mylla with an irritated look.

“If you remember your promise,” Mylla said on the verge of laughing, “I shall promise to make it up to you when we bed down for the night.” Twirling in a flounce of skirt, she led the way through the woods.

“And I promise to hold you to it,” Talan called softy to her back.

†

Frederick and Caine were on the road leading to Reading. Their clothing soaked through from the intermittent rain, they were exhausted and hungry. With only a few brief stops, they ran their pair of borrowed chargers hard.

Rounding a bend they spotted an approaching wagon.

“We must be nearing the village,” Caine said. “Those are the first travelers we have seen all day.”

Frederick slowed to study the approaching cart being pulled by a pair of sorrel coated mules. “It looks to be a lone priest.”

“I shall let you do the talking, but be discreet.” Caine slowed his horse into a trot. “Priest or not, we cannot take any chances.”

“Greetings!” Father Godfrey hailed the pair when they rode within shouting distance. Stopping the mules on the narrow dirt rutted track, he waited for their approach.

The brothers stopped alongside the cart. Frederick dipped his head while Caine spoke. “Good day, Father.”

“Good day, my sons.” Father Godfrey looked from one to the other. “Are you headed to the abbey? Archbishop Corbeil should have arrived by now.”

“We did not know such a luminary would be in residence.” Caine shared a look of concern with Frederick. “There is like to be a large throng of believers waiting to greet him.”

“I can attest to that,” Father Godfrey said. “Add to that the archbishop’s retinue, and the town will be fair to bursting. If you were looking to retain a spot at the inn, I fear you may not be successful, my sons.”

“If that is the case,” Caine said, “I see no reason for us to stop there.”

“Where is it you both hail from?” Father Godfrey inquired.

“Rochester,” Caine said after a lengthy hesitation.

“Rochester? I have many acquaintances there.” Father Godfrey beamed. “Your village priest is Father Bartolomeo, is he not?” 

“He is indeed.” Caine glanced over at his brother.

“Ah, by the look on your face I would say you know him all too well.” Father Godfrey chuckled. “I myself know Father Bartholomeo to be surly at best.”

Frederick’s dark brows shot up.

“My outlook has that effect on most, my son. I may be a priest, a bold one at that, yet I assure you I am also human. Father Bartholomeo and our Cornish counterpart Father Farus tend to forget that fact. It is no wonder they get along so well. It tends to happen when one covets power and wealth over piousness and simplicity.”

“No wonder,” Caine repeated. Clearly at a loss for words, he looked to his brother for help.

“Have you happened to come across any other travelers on the road, Father?” Frederick asked.

“Travelers?” Father Godfrey eyed them more closely. “Are you searching for someone?”

“We were just wondering since you are the first person we have come across.” 

“Well, I best let you both get on your way then,” Father Godfrey said without answering the question. “I am headed to Hitchin near Dunstable on an important mission and have no time to tarry.” Raising the reins, Father Godfrey set the mules into motion. “Good day to you, God’s blessings upon you both.”

“Thank you, Father.” The brothers replied in unison.

They were over the nearest rise when Caine slowed his horse to a walk.

Slowing ahead of him, Frederick reined his horse around. “What it is, Caine?”

“Something the priest said.”

“What did he say that has you looking so pensive?”

“He said he was on his way to Hitchin near Dunstable.”

“So?” Frederick shrugged.

“Castell Maen is in Hitchin,” Caine said. “What if the priest’s mission is to deliver a message from Talan to Baron Erlegh?” 

“He was such a peculiar fellow I did not give what he said much thought. Do you think it very likely?”

“It all seems like too much of a coincidence is all. The priest has acquaintances in Rochester, he is departing Reading a place we know Talan to have been, and headed for Hitchin near Dunstable, Sir Talan’s home.” Glancing back down the road, Caine seemed undecided. “He is a priest…”

“Then let us take a chance on him.” Spurring his horse into a gallop, Frederick took off down the road the way they had come.

Father Godfrey hauled back on the reins bringing the wagon to a rumbling stop. On guard now, he was not as amiable. “Did you need something further, my sons?”

“Father,” Frederick said, “afore I say anything, I would ask that this conversation remain betwixt us.”  

“You wish to make a confession?” Father Godfrey appeared taken aback. “Here and now?”

“Not exactly.” Frederick looked over at Caine.

“We have something to ask you,” Caine said. “It is of the utmost importance to those closest to us. For that reason, we require your discretion.”

“You have it.” Father Godfrey grew solemn. “What is it you would ask of me?”

“Are you acquainted with Baron Fulke of Erlegh?”

“I happen to be well acquainted with the baron.” Father Godfrey once again became guarded. “Does this matter of import concern him?”

“It concerns one of his knights, Sir Talan,” Caine said. “Would you also happen to know him?”

“Are you looking for Sir Talan?” Father Godfrey countered.

“We are looking for Sir Talan, and our sister, Mylla,” Frederick said.

Father’s Godfrey looked from one to the other, assessing the situation. “What do you intend to do to the couple if you happen to find them?”

“Your cautious responses lead me to believe that you are aware of the situation, Father,” Frederick said. “We are on Talan and Mylla’s side and wish to escort them safely into Wales.”

“Well why did you not say so from the start?” Father Godfrey relaxed.

“So you have seen them, Father?”

“Seen them, I officiated at their wedding,” Father Godfrey said proudly. “They were united yonder eve at Reading Abbey. Your brother Edmund stood witness.”

“Edmund found them,” Frederick said with relief.

“Father.” Caine seemed troubled. “Are you fully aware of the circumstances surrounding Sir Talan and my sister?”

“Do you think that Talan would not have enlightened me to the situation?” Father Godfrey’s smile was sad. “All I did was right a wrong, my son. If my life is forfeit because of it, so be it. I live according to God’s law, not mans.”

“You will be in the prayers of my family for your kindness,” Caine said. “Come what may, I know my parents will be relieved to hear that Mylla is wed.”

“I cannot believe Talan would deem it safe to remain in Reading with the Archbishop in residence,” Frederick said. “Have they already departed the village, Father?”

“They rode out after dawn this very morn,” Father Godfrey said. “They are on the road to Chertsey. If you ride with little rest, you will catch them. As for me, I carry a message to Baron Erlegh on their behalf.”

“Baron Erlegh has departed Castell Maen,” Frederick said. “He and his knights are headed to the capital to petition the king on Talan’s behalf.”

“That changes things up a bit, does it not?” Father Godfrey pondered the latest news. “You must waste no more time speaking with me.” Making the sign of the cross, Father Godfrey briefly closed his eyes. “God’s blessings go with you on your mission. I will continue my journey to Castell Maen. I take it her ladyship remains in residence?”

“She does, along with Sir Albin’s lady wife. Sir Euric’s wife, Lady Bronwyn is also there. They are—”

“Do you speak of Sir Euric and Lady Bronwyn from Cornwall?” Father Godfrey’s merry eyes lit up.

“Aye, do you know them as well?”

“Indeed, twas I who united them in holy matrimony. I heard word that she has been blessed with two children since last we met. It will be good to be among old friends again. Worry not I shall enlighten the ladies to the latest developments.” Clicking the reins, Father Godfrey set the cart in motion. “Get on now, Yseult and Tristram. We must make haste.”

†

“It does not look like the weather will let up,” Fulke called to be heard over the pouring rain. The hour was growing late and the men had grown silent in their misery. “If we make camp for the night, we should arrive in London around terce on the morrow.”

“I wager we all get very little sleep this sodden night,” Albin complained. “It has been some time since I slept outdoors.”

“Do not tell me you have grown soft in your dotage?” Fulke teased with a grin.