Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (27 page)

Fulke and Talan immediately stood.

Gervase, Guy, and Albin hazarded a confused look at Fulke only to be ignored. Having faith in their liege, they again faced forward to appear impassive.

“Sire… Henry… I must protest,” Ranulf rambled, “I cannot, I will not risk your safety in such a foolhardy way.” 

“Do you accuse me of being reckless?” Henry asked.

“Such a thought would never enter my mind, Sire.” The justice was not fooled by Henry’s easygoing manner.  

“Then come, Ranulf. I have been remiss in not visiting your home prior to now.” Assisted from the dais, Henry began to issue orders to his guard.

Left with no choice, the justice followed. “Sire, I really must protest—”

“I am growing bored with your protestations,” Henry cut his words short. “You speak as if we are sharing a cup in my solar. Do not again allow our friendship to give you such false bravado.”

“Forgive me.” Ranulf appeared contrite. “May I at least allow my guard to ride ahead to prepare my household for your illustrious arrival?”

“There is no need for such formality.” Henry led the retinue from the hall.

With a last look of longing at the door Mylla had exited through, Talan fell into step beside Fulke. Surrounded by guards, they remained silent.

The entourage was forced to pair off when they reached the palace’s crowded passageways. Nobles genuflected alongside commoners when the king passed. 

Edging closer to Talan, Fulke kept his eyes fixed forward. “All will be well if the justice’s clerk spoke the truth.”

Talan briefly closed his eyes in relief. He now understood what was happening.

The group exited the palace to gather in the courtyard. The king’s carriage was waiting with six white stallions already in harness. Behind it stood an open wagon pulled by four destriers.

Once situated inside his carriage, Henry leaned out of the gilded gold door. “Join me for the jaunt, Ranulf.”

With a glare of loathing directed at Talan and Fulke, the justice accepted the assistance of a footman to accompany the king.

Fulke and Talan were led to the wagon. Once they were seated on a bench running the length of the bed, guards climbed up to sit across from them. The remaining guards fanned out on either side of the king’s carriage to walk the short route.   

The road leading to the justice’s London residence was lined with palace guards. Every connecting intersection had curious onlookers jostling for a better view of the king.

With the king’s guards focused on the crowd, Fulke used the opportunity to speak in low tones to Talan. “You should have come to me from the start.”

“Our present circumstance is the reason I did not, my liege.” Readjusting his seat, Talan kept his head down. “I would have spared you all this had I been able.”

“We are family, lad. What affects one, affects us all.”

“I know that now, my liege.” Inhaling deeply, Talan kept his head down long after Fulke fell silent.

Chapter Twenty

“La-La, you should eat something.” Pacing past the sideboard laden with the remains of King Henry’s impromptu feast, Caine could not sit still.

“Tis you and Frederick who need to eat.” Seated at the table, Mylla had worriedly twisted her kerchief into an unrecognizable wad of linen. “What do you think is happening to them?”

“Our liege spoke to the king at length, Lady Mylla,” Gervase said. “You must not worry yourself so.”

“And what happens if Lady Kaylein’s body is not in the oubliette?” From his seat beside a narrow glass-paned window, Guy looked over his shoulder at Gervase. “You of all people should know that the justice’s clerk would not be the first male to tell a falsehood to impress a woman.”

“You believe that Chaucey may have lied?” Mylla’s hands stilled.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Guy said. “I was merely thinking out loud.”

“Whether or not Chaucey lied, I have faith in our liege.” From his seat by the banked hearth, Gervase directed his displeasure at Guy. “You should as well.”

“It is the waiting that is driving me near to madness.” Stretching his arms over his head, Albin winced in pain. “My damned shoulder is paining me once again. What I would do to have my Lecie here to tend me.”

“It pains me that you were forced to leave her side, Sir Albin,” Mylla said softly.

“Feel no regret on my account, my lady,” Albin replied. “Neither one of us would have me in any other place.”

A guard opened the door to allow a shrouded figure to enter bearing a tray laden with a pitcher and cups. “I have brought ale,” she said for the guards benefit.

“Liliana.” Gervase stood. “What are you doing here?”

Setting her burden on the table, Liliana glanced at the empty doorway. “The nobility have all been summoned to the great hall, the reason why, I know not. All I can tell you is that I have heard rumors the king intends to make a formal announcement.”

“You are the woman who came to the inn,” Albin stated.

“I am, and now that I have warned you,” Liliana said, “I must be away.”

Mylla reached for Liliana’s gloved hand. “Thank you for taking such risks on our behalf.”

“I do so gladly, my lady.” Liliana backed away from Mylla’s touch. “God be with you.”

“Liliana,” Gervase said. “I find myself pleading for your forgiveness. You were right, and I should have trusted you.”

“I must go.”

“Wait, please.” Gently clasping her forearm Gervase detained her.

“What is the delay?” One of the guards now filled the doorway. “Sir Gervase, unhand the woman.”

Reluctantly releasing Liliana, Gervase said, “I did not receive a response.”

“You are forgiven,” she whispered. In a whirl of black skirt, Liliana slipped past the guard to disappear from view.

“Do not feel bad.” Under the wrong assumption the guard remained in the doorway. “Many a man has tried and failed to have a look beneath the many layers she wears. I heard she was horribly disfigured in a fire. She may be a hideous crone, yet she has the singing voice of an angel.”

“How do you know?” Gervase felt suddenly protective of Liliana.

“If the captain catches you prattling he will have you scrubbing the royal garderobe,” a guard unseen by the chamber’s occupants called to his companion.

“Would not you like to know,” the first guard said to Gervase. With a chuckle he closed the door.

“It appears you have not lost your touch, Gervase,” Guy said with a grin. “Yet another woman snared by your rakish charms.”

“It is not like that,” Gervase said angrily. “Liliana is different.”

“I for one consider her a Godsend,” Albin said.

“I do as well,” Mylla seconded. “We should all feel indebted to her.”

“I feel so ashamed, Gervase said. “I treated her most callously when first we met.”

“Tis like I said.” Guy spread out his hands.

“There is more to me than my looks,” Gervase said, “whether or not you choose to believe it.”

“It appears that everyone has forgotten we presently have more pressing concerns to deal with,” Frederick said.

“I am just impressed Gervase is interested in a woman for something other than swiv…” Guy flushed, recalling he was in the presence of a lady.

Albin’s disgusted look was wiped away by sheer surprise when Gervase angrily flung his silver cup into the hearth. About to respond to the unusual display of temper, his attention was drawn to the door when a trio of guards entered.

“You are all to come with us.”

Albin raised a hand to the others to keep them in their places. “Where exactly are we going?”

“We are taking you where the king has ordered us to take you.” The lead guard rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Do you plan to impede our instructions?”

“I would not think of disobeying the king. I merely wondered where we were going.” Rising, Albin extended his arm to Mylla. “Shall we, my lady?” 

†

Bruised and bloodied with one eye swollen shut from the beating Leofrick gave him, Edmund lay fuming in the dark of the inn’s cramped pantry. Ambushed by his younger brother within sight of the palace, Edmund had managed to gain the upper hand when Mylla decided to enter the fray. The bloodied furrows she scratched onto his face and neck pained him more than any injury Leofrick could have inflicted upon him. He should have run Leofrick down with his horse when he ran into their path to stop them. If he had, he would not be trussed up waiting for whatever fate his siblings were currently planning for him. 

Determined to salvage his association with the justice, he had a lot of time to think how it could be done. Willing to make sacrifices of his father and brothers, he would plead with the justice to spare the life of his mother. While he cared little for women, his mother was different. He would do whatever necessary to keep her safe.  

Edmund saw his chance to escape when the innkeeper’s wife, Ebba, took pity on him. Entering the storage closet with a bowl in her hand, she removed his gag to feed him. “I am certain Baron Erlegh would wish it so I have brought you some stew.”

“Take it away.” Edmund feigned discomfort. “I cannot eat lying on my side.”

“You will have to,” Ebba said. “My husband is not here to assist you up.”

“Then you can assist me.” Edmund had already figured the workings of the woman’s mind. Used to taking orders, she often acted on instinct without thinking the matter through. “Hook your hand under my arm,” he said without giving her a chance to think. “I shall push up with my feet.”

Setting the bowl aside, Ebba crouched to do as instructed.

After some effort on both of their parts, Edmund once again sat upright. Rolling his head on his neck, he winced in pain from being forced to remain in one position for so long. “Feed me now.”

Ebba spooned a mouthful of stew into Edmund’s waiting mouth. “It has mutton in it, I hope that pleases you.”

Famished, Edmund kept opening his mouth for more until the wooden spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. “I have need of the garderobe.”

“My husband says you are not to leave the pantry.”

Edmund bent a stern look upon her. “Then bring me a chamber pot.” He watched with satisfaction as the simpleton hurried off to do his bidding. Testing the rope that bound his hands behind his back, he could not find the leverage to loosen them. He stilled when Ebba returned to place a chamber pot beside his legs. 

“I shall return when you are finished.”

“Unless you plan on holding my cock, you are going to have to untie me.” Like he intended, Ebba was clearly distressed by the immoral proposition. He twisted his upper body to give her better access to his hands. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

†

The small royal caravan turned off the hard-packed dirt road of the main thoroughfare onto a quiet cobbled lane. Lined with opulent homes of the kingdom’s wealthiest merchants and nobles, the king’s carriage stopped in front of the justice’s three-story manor. Guards fanned out across the road when the wagon pulled up behind. 

Assisted down from the carriage, the king appraised the justice’s residence. “It appears I pay you extremely well, Ranulf.”

“I would serve you for a single denier, Sire.”

“Baron Erlegh would have said gratis.” Henry slanted his gaze to Fulke. “Or do I presume too much?”

“Not at all, Sire.” Joining the two men, Fulke stood a full head and shoulders above them. “I would give my life to protect you from harm.”

“A feat you willingly conveyed some years past at the Battle of Bremule.” Bringing up their first meeting in Mesnil-Verclives, Normandy, Henry’s stern look softened. “Whilst you have proven a disappointment at times, I have never doubted your loyalty to me.”

“I strive to do the best I am able, Sire.” 

At a loss for words, the justice’s sagging jowls quivered as he followed the affable exchange.

“Well, Ranulf,” Henry said, “are you going to invite us in, or are we going to stand here all day?”

“Forgive me, Sire.” Sensing Henry’s shifting allegiance the justice fell back into the role of obedient servant. “I can only hope my humble abode is suitable for your illustrious presence.” Leading the way up the steps, he critically eyed the liveried servants waiting silently on either side of the front entrance doors. 

Following behind the king and a handful of guards, Fulke gave a Talan a reassuring look.

The servants lining the foyer appeared flushed and slightly out of breath by their employer’s unexpected arrival. Immediately dropping into the appropriate bows or curtsies upon sight of the king, they waited silently for instruction.

“As you can see, we have been graced with his majesty’s presence,” the justice called loudly. “Bring forth a cask of the best French vintage from the cellar and prepare refreshment. We shall withdraw to the sitting room.”

The servants quickly took their leave to follow the justice’s orders.

Henry studied his manicured fingernails as if bored. “Ranulf, prior to making ourselves comfortable, I should like to see your renowned wine cellar.”

Completely taken aback by the request the justice paled. “Sire?” he said after a moment, “I shall have my servants bring forth the casks I gifted to you.”

“My intent is not to play the lackey, Ranulf. I wish to see the collection of vintages that you so often boast about.”

The justice looked over at Talan. Seeing nothing to alert him to the present situation in the knight’s casual stance, he briefly focused on Fulke. 

For his part, Fulke calmly met the justice’s panicked gaze with a triumphant smile. The justice would not appear so hesitant if he did not have something to hide.

“Why are we standing here? Have you gone deaf of a sudden?” Henry’s tone had chilled considerably.

“The steps are steep—”

“Let us go now, Ranulf.”

“Certainly, Sire.” Uneasily eyeing the guards Henry had not ordered to remain outside, the justice led the large group to the back of the manor. Servants busy in the kitchen came to a standstill upon their entrance. Leading the group through a massive food store lined with stocked shelves and stacked with barrels, and baskets, he stopped at a thick ironbound door. “I have need of light!”

A servant quickly came forth with several lit torches. Passing them out, she handed the last to Fulke.

Descending the stone steps first, Ranulf held the chain anchored into the roughhewn stone wall for support. A guard followed to keep pace with the justice and another preceded the king should he trip on the way down. It was a slow process since the king stopped to catch his breath every few steps. By the time the last guard descended into the cellar aromatic smells of roasting meat had begun to drift down to them.   

Sweating profusely, Henry reached the cellar floor. Waving off his guard’s offer of assistance, he struggled to catch his breath.

“Mayhap the king would currently benefit from a cup of this fine wine of yours, lord justice.” Eyeing the expansive chamber they had entered, Fulke’s gaze was drawn to an archway leading into another chamber.

Lined with shelves of dusty bottles, casks and barrels, the justice drew Henry’s attention away from the archway. “Come, Sire. Have a seat while I pour you a glass of my finest vintage.”

Indulging the justice, Henry’s lip curled in distaste at the dusty oak armchair the justice had proffered.

“Forgive me, Sire. Had I known your wishes I would have prepared for your visit.” Using the hem of his black tunic to dust off the chair, the justice stepped back.

Falling heavily into the chair, Henry shifted uncomfortably to adjust to the arms digging into his sides. “I would have that cup of wine now.”

The justice hastened to serve the king. Using his sleeve to clean a silver goblet, he filled it with his costliest vintage. So focused on pleasing Henry he failed to notice that Fulke and Talan had slipped into the adjacent chamber. Only after refilling the king’s cup did he remark upon their absence. “Guards, escort Baron Erlegh and his lowborn knight back in here.”

Standing at order along the wall closest to the king, they looked to the king for direction.