The Troubadour's Romance (27 page)

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Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical, #General

BOOK: The Troubadour's Romance
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She laughed uncomfortably.

I saw the use the day I arrived, Sir Hewe. There is much to be done to make this
keep worthy of Royce and his heirs. And the town. Mercy, the town. I doubt he could possibly have left enough, but we will see that he returns to an improved estate. Surely that would please him.

Hewe raised an eyebrow in surprise and looked sideways at her.

She turned her eyes back to the fire and heard Hewe

s voice quiet behind her.

An improved estate would please him well, lady. He deserves better than this.

Felise did not turn. She sighed heavily, deep in thought. Finally she rose to face Hewe, her voice low but firm.


Aye, he deserves all our labors and loyalty. I am certain I shall be occupied every moment he is gone. Yet if it earns one small smile of pleasure from him, it will be well worth the effort.

She passed Hewe, moving toward the stairs, turning once to look at him with tear-filled eyes.

Have a stout meal, Hewe. I plan to begin at once to attend to matters that will better my husband

s home.

 

 

 

 

Twelve

 

To see a large troop of knights pass through Coventry was not unusual, for the road between Worcester and Leicester was woven through the town. Also, many enroute to York would travel through Coventry, which was of some consequence in its travel houses, merchant goods, and food.

And there was a church, large and rich by the standards of the time. Monseigneur Trothmore, a common son of a merchant craftsman, had risen through the ranks to a position of authority and wealth in this town. He had managed to wield the authority of the church over the local barons and earls, and much conjecture about who ruled the land floated among the common people.

While the men-at-arms sought a stable for their destriers, Sir Boltof and Sir Wharton lingered within the church for an audience with the priest. As they waited, they quietly conferred.


Since Royce is gone now to France, and the weather is not with us in our travels,

tis best to await his return and discover what that Aquitaine property holds, rather than rushing into the keep and overthrowing the Scelfton knights,

Boltof said.


But then, the woman resides much alone. Would it not be better for you to venture there now?

Wharton asked.

Boltof smiled wickedly.

What ho! You would allow me a measure of her time alone?


That is not what I meant,

Wharton corrected.


Never mind, Wharton. I wait in the event she denies me admittance when her man is gone. And remember, I dare not go there alone, but must take Celeste if I am to succeed.


What am I to do while you wait? Sit in this fair shire and count the mares until you deem it time?


Patience, Wharton. The longer we wait, the more assur
ance to those who would watch that there is no bad blood over this marriage. And ... you do want to know what there is in Aquitaine, do you not?

Wharton nodded, but one of the things he seemed to have little of was patience. He had lost many a contest because he had struck too soon.

Perhaps the Scelfton men will soon be called to their duties and the gate will be easier to open. Remember, I know each and every Leighton knight. I have ridden with Royce.

Their attention was drawn by the entrance of Trothmore, and he always made a grand entrance. Never seen in the humble rags of a priest c
ommitted to poverty, this self-
acclaimed church leader wore robes of rich cloth, jewels, and heavy velvet mantles. His cap, sewn with gems, rose high above his head, and he was tall enough to create a stir when he moved. His position of power was not conferred to him by the church, but came through the attainment of riches. He had managed to
impress most of the higher-
ranking ecclesiastics so well that they rarely asked how his high title had come about. Very few people knew he was only a priest
.
Wharton and Boltof bowed and crossed themselves, both knowing this was all a show, for the priest was less religious than the Templars. He was every bit a baron whose keep was a church.


Sir knights,

he greeted.


I am Boltof, and this is Wharton. I sent you the missive.


How did you know of me?

Trothmore asked.


I have had occasion to pass through Coventry more than
once, and acquaintances have spoken of you.

He raised an eyebrow.

Was I correct that you would be of service to a humble knight of Henry?

Trothmore stiffened.

I would aid any who could rid the land of Leightons for all time. And there is only one left.


Why do the Leightons chafe you so?

Wharton asked.

Trothmore

s expression was grim and his anger was barely concealed.

I have served this church for over a score of years, and as long as there are Leightons in Segeland, there is no faith and I cannot wring a tithe from the burg. Tis a well-known fact they worship Satan. Now ruling in the stead of the devil is a witch they call lady. That same one called arms against me and will not allow me within the town. The church will shed them, as in generations past, as a bird sheds its fouled feathers.

Boltof struggled to keep his expression serious, but in
wardly he smiled. He would ta
ke great pleasure in watching Fe
lise, the beautiful witch, standing her ground and refusing to part with any coin to a wicked priest. But for now, the priest was necessary to his plan.


By the summer, my lord, you shall begin to see some attempt to unseat the Leighton bastards for good and all. Then you shall have your faith and the tithe again. Have you written the papers?


I have submitted to the Archbishop the complaints against Segeland and her rulers and requested excommuni
cation for all who reside there ... until such a time as those whose wickedness rules either beg for forgiveness or die.


It shall shortly come to Henry

s attention, Boltof,

Wharton said with a note of panic in his voice.


Be at ease, Wharton. Henry does not know we are here.

He turned to Trothmore.

Our efforts will be of little use if you give us away, my lord. I have a pittance to help you seal your lips.

Trothmore

s hand was instantly outstretched, and his angry face relaxed into a sly smile. He loved money and riches more than anything.

Why would I speak against you, when you come so far as this to do God

s work?


All the better, my lord,

Boltof replied, placing a small money bag in the man

s hand.

There will be more, when the time is right to move against Segeland. Until then, abide
by their order and stay away from there. I see no need to keep them on their guard.

He laughed loudly, pleased that things were going so well.

Indeed,

tis much the better they are relaxed and believing themselves safe, for I shall war with them from within their walls, and Sir Wharton here, from without. I doubt anyone could stand firm against such a sound plan.


I bid you well, then,

Trothmore said, turning from the knights to leave. When he had entered his rectory and closed the door behind him, Wharton turned suspicious eyes to Boltof.

How is it you can trust that man?

he asked.


Come, Wharton,

he chuckled, slapping a hand on his shoulder as if they were long-time friends, and leading him out of the church.

Trothmore is easier to trust than any friend, for it is clear his price is silver or gold. He cares nothing for truth, loyalty, or honor, i
f only he can have riches. So .
.. while he can serve our purpose, let us see that he is well paid.

They came down the stairs of the church and into the crowded Coventry street.

You part more easily with your hard-earned money than I would have supposed,

Wharton observed.

Boltof laughed good-naturedly.

Surely you know that I only loan the sum to Trothmore. I intend to have it back.


Boltof,

someone shouted. Both men turned abruptly toward the knight who had called out.

Wharton?

he questioned, dismounting quickly on sight of them.

Wharton frowned when he saw Sir Maelwine, nearly panicking at being seen with Boltof. But Boltof was quicker to see the usefulness of this. He walked briskly toward Maelwine, giving a salute and then stretching out his hand.

By God, what a pleasure to see you again, Maelwine,

Boltof said cheerfully.

And of course you are well ac
quainted with Wharton.

Maelwine rather reluctantly shook the other knight

s hand.

Twas a long time ago that we parted ways and you rode with the elder Leighton.

Wharton was not quick enough to understand the value of this meeting, and Boltof spoke rapidly, energetically, hoping he would soon gather the sense of it. He laughed lightly and easily.

And so we come full circle in our
meeting. You, parted from your friend by a Leighton; I, the friend of a Leighton and enemy of Wharton
--
all united herein. Can it be old battles could be laid away with a tipped mug?


I thought you hated each other,

Maelwine said.

Wharton snorted, catching on at last.

The defeated have come to a truce,

he said derisively.

We share our miseries better than we fought.

All three then laughed, and Wharton suggested a warm Coventry room for good ale and a chance to tell all the old tales. Maelwine nodded exuberantly, for he was worn from all the hard work and traveling to Coventry for supplies that Segeland demanded. He instructed those with him to gather up their goods while he joined his friends.

Before a blazing hearth in a common room, the three men shared a friendly brew. Maelwine was comforted by their presence. He had parted ways with Wharton a long while back and, upon this reunion, realized how he had missed his company. And although Boltof was a fairly new acquaint
ance, the friendship of their fathers brought them together.

Maelwine believed their questions about Segeland, Royce, and
Felise
to be born of simple curiosity, and it gave him the opportunity to talk about his tasks through the past weeks. Several toasts and jests later, they emerged from the common room and stood again in the street.

I am for Segeland,

Maelwine said, a bit unsteady on his feet after all the rich brew.

But I found Coventry more to my liking this time than at others. I did not ask
--
where are you bound?

Wharton nearly gasped, but Boltof, the silver-tongued schemer, won with his words again.

We have traveled together from London, b
ut from here I go to York and
Wharton is on to Gloucester.

Maelwine thought for a moment, but his mind was nearly as scrambled as his footwork.

Gloucester? A bit beyond your road, isn

t it?


But well worth the travel,

Wharton laughed, slapping Maelwine on the back.

I would have our next meeting better planned. What say you, Maelwine?


Aye,

the knight returned.

I shall soon be free of Segeland and will send word to you. Perhaps we will put together our troops at some future day and ride together
again.

Maelwine was unaware of how much valuable information he had already given about Segeland, feeling sure that these two men were his comrades.


Until you leave, assure Lady
Felise
that we harbor no anger toward any member of her family,

Boltof said.

I shall ride upon Segeland when my duties in York are completed and give Royce my renewed pledge of friend
ship.


Aye,

Maelwine said, accentuating this with a large belch.

Full circle. A better arrangement than before.


Tell the lady, Maelwine, that I shall visit Segeland to offer my support,

Boltof repeated.

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