Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (16 page)

Before long, the two knights recognized the
pattern.
 
Stowing the board away, they
quit playing altogether.

She found solace in her stitching.
 
Creating something beautiful out of nothing,
she spent hours embroidering before the fire.
 
It was only when her eyes began to blur that she would retire to the
empty Lord’s chamber. Dressed in Fulke’s dressing gown, she curled up on his
side of the bed to hug his pillow, weeping until exhaustion claimed her.

* * * *

Waking in the dawns early light, Reina could not
summon the energy to spend the day in the village.
 

Several times throughout the night, she had woken to
the same nightmare. Frozen in place, Fulke stood just out of reach with his
back to her. He walked away as she screamed and begged him not to leave her,
but he kept going because he could not hear her.

The last time she woke to nightmares, Fulke had left
her. With a sense of foreboding, she feared something was about to happen that
would keep them apart forever.

Finished dressing, she sat on the edge of the bed to
braid her hair. Seeing the door swing open, her hands stilled.
 
Walking in with his eyes clenched tight,
Talan frantically waved his arms.

Panicked at what would make him enter her chamber in
such a way, she rushed over to him.

Touching his arm mid-swing, he opened his eyes with
relief. “I beg your pardon my lady, I searched but could not find a single
female about to summon you.”

Squeezing his forearm, she managed,
“Is it Fulke?”

“No my lady,” he shook his head. “I fear this concerns
you.”

Searching his steady blue gaze, her heart began to
pound.
“I do not understand.”

“Four of King Henry’s men-at-arms are below.
 
They have come to escort you to London for an
audience with the king.”

Fear widened her eyes.
“The king
has summoned me?”

“Aye.
 
His men
insist on departing as soon as you prepare yourself.”

“Am I to go unaccompanied,
Talan?”
praying Fulke would care enough to come for her.

Misconstruing her words, he hastened to reassure her.
“No, my lady, Albin and I will escort you.”

“What of Fulke, Talan?”
She gripped his arm, fearing the answer.

“I regret to say the king’s men have come for you
alone.”

Dropping her hand, Reina stepped back, stunned.
  

If you wish, I can send for Hylda,” Talan
offered.
 

Her thoughts reeling, she absently replied.
“I believe it best for Hylda to remain here.
 
She has never sat a horse before.”

“I shall not leave your side, my lady.
 
The king will have no other way to converse
with you.”

“Do you think he wishes to see me
as testimony to Fulke’s marriage?”
she asked hopefully.

“I am afraid I do not know why the king wishes an
audience with you.”

Reina wrung her hands nervously.
“I shall
need a moment to prepare myself.”

“You have nothing to fear, my lady. We shall let no
harm befall you,” Talan reassured her.

Distracted, she rambled,
“Please have
Rowan inform Hylda what has transpired as soon as she returns. She is bound to
be anxious.”

Talan gripped her shoulders until he had her full
attention.
 
“No harm shall befall you, my
lady, I vow it.”
  

Reina forced a tight smile.
 
“Thank you, Talan.”

He dropped his hands.
 
“I shall await you below.”

 
Before he
closed the door, she had her clothing chest flung open.
 
Snatching at anything that came to hand, she
quickly bundled them together.
 

Packing the rest of her things, she began to pray.

* * * *

“We wait no longer. Her ladyship has adequate escort.”

“You will wait. It was your decision not to split up
to summon his lordship,” Talan responded angrily to the guard.

“The king gave explicit orders to return with her
ladyship. Whether or not his lordship follows, is by his own choosing,” the
king’s man shot back.

Following the conversation, Reina feared they would be
forced to depart without Albin.
  
Walking
a short distance away, she nervously scanned the path leading to the village,
 

Just when she thought the king’s men would wait no
longer, she spotted Albin cresting a rise. Closing her eyes in relief, she
willed her racing heart to slow.
 

The king’s men left to gather their horses as Albin
dismounted beside her. “I apologize for the delay, my lady.
 
The only available man I could find with a
horse was the ostler.
 
He rides for
Rochester as we speak.”

Reina smiled her thanks as he moved to assist
her.
 
Lifting her up on a small mare, he
returned to his own horse.
 
She smoothed
her skirts with trembling hands, before reaching for the reins.
  

Setting off behind the guard, Talan rode close beside
her until she felt compelled to look at him.
 
“I keep my vows, my lady.”

“I did not think otherwise,
Talan,”
she responded with a sincere smile.
 

* * * *

Fulke was supervising work in the inner-ward when a
peasant rode up on a lathered horse. Somewhat familiar to him, he tried to
place the burly man as he dismounted. “Your lordship, I come from Castell Maen
with news.”

Fear surged through him as visions of Reina in danger
flashed through his mind. “What news?” he breathed.

“Sir Albin sent me, your lordship. The king has
summoned her ladyship to London for an audience.”

The last thing he expected to hear, it took a moment
for Fulke to grasp the meaning of the words.
 
“Did Sir Albin mention why her ladyship has been summoned?”

“I regret he did not, your lordship.”

Figuring how fast he could return to Castell Maen, he
inquired, “When is she to depart?”

“Her ladyship is already on her way to London, your
lordship.”

For the second time, Fulke was taken aback.
 
“Zounds,” he swore. Henry must have sent an
urgent summons. “My knights ride escort?”

“Sir Albin and Sir Talan both, your lordship, along
with four of the King’s men-at-arms,” he added.

“Did you say four of Henry’s men?” Fulke asked in
surprise.
 
The implication had his heart
pounding.

“I saw them for myself when they rode through the
village, your lordship. They wore the king’s own livery.”

His mind focused on Henry’s intent, Fulke absently
retrieved a small pouch of coins from his tunic.
  
“You go with my thanks.”
  

Catching the pouch, the man dipped his head. “Her
ladyship has been very kind to me, your lordship. I pray that all goes well
with you both.”
 
Mounting, he rode off in
the direction he had come.
  

Just the thought of his innocent Reina at court alone,
made Fulke’s blood run cold.
 
He had no
inkling how Henry had heard of his nuptials, but the features of a balding
jovial priest crossed his mind.

Calculating the time needed for the journey, he
suddenly realized Reina would reach London a full day before him.
 
“To me!” he roared in the menacing voice
reserved for battle.

The men working on the tower around Fulke fell
silent.
 
Straightening from their various
tasks, a score of fearful eyes focused on him.
 
Seeing his gaze directed elsewhere, they quickly returned to their
labors.

Heeding his call, Gervase came running with Guy on his
heels. Passing through the stone archway with swords drawn, they searched for
the threat.
 

Guy surveyed the silent serfs surrounding them as he
rushed to protect Fulke’s flank.
 

Remaining behind Fulke to protect his back, Gervase
stood alert, poised for a fight.
 
Scanning the edgy workers, he grew puzzled when he could discern no
visible danger.

“Sheath your swords, the fight is not here.”

To the whisk of steel sliding in scabbards, the pair
sheathed their weapons.
 
“What is it, my
liege?” Gervase ventured, coming up beside Fulke.

 
“Gather your
gear, we make for London with all haste. If we ride hard, we should be a day
behind our lady,” Fulke ground out, his thoughts wreaking havoc with his peace
of mind.

“Lady Reina has been summoned by the king?” Guy asked
in surprise.

“Aye, and I fully intend to be at her side when he
meets with her.” He turned to Gervase.
 
“Ride back to instruct the lads they are to remain in Rochester.
 
You will have to follow the best you can.”

“Aye, my liege,” Gervase dipped his head.

“Warin need not know about the summons,” Fulke
continued grimly. “There is no need to alarm him until we are privy to Henry’s
intent.”
 

“Aye, my liege,” Gervase repeated solemnly.
 
Exchanging a troubled parting glance with
Guy, he ran for the stables.

Fulke gazed after Gervase, lost to his troubled
thoughts.

Shall I fetch the horses, my liege?” Guy prompted.

Imagining how frightened Reina must be, Fulke glanced
at Guy still standing beside him.
 

“The horses, my liege. Shall I fetch the horses?”

“Aye. Fetch the horses; I must speak to the master
builder.”
 
Snapping back into the moment,
Fulke rushed off towards the main part of the castle.

Fearing what lay ahead, Reina was nevertheless
relieved to see an end to their long journey. Prevented from coming to blows
with the king’s men earlier in the day, Talan rode beside her, silent and
brooding.

She blamed herself for the earlier incident. If she
had not been so curious about the men wearing the king’s royal livery, she
never would have followed their conversation while resting the horses.
 
Blushing from one of their cruder comments,
she turned to find Talan staring at her.
 

His mouth set in a grim line, he lunged past her to
take the offender down by the throat.

As the remaining three guards belatedly drew their
swords, Albin pulled a struggling Talan away from the gasping man on the
ground. “Ease up, Talan. They will kill you!”

Yanking free from Albin’s grasp, he glared at the men,
refusing to back down.

Seeing the lethal swords of the guards directed at
Talan, Reina stepped in front of him, her noble status forcing them to lower
their weapons.
 

Talan’s hand remained on the hilt of his sword,
prepared to make a move. When he refused to look at her, she clutched his
sleeve to draw his attention.
“Words have never hurt me,
Talan. Do not let them hurt you now, this I beg of you.”

Breathing hard, he ground out, “They disrespected you,
my lady.”

“I take no offense, Talan. Please
do not give them cause to hurt you.”

Relaxing his hand, he replied, “As you wish, my
lady.”
 
Glaring at the men, he stalked
off towards the horses.

Her gaze resting on the guards, Reina noted their
looks of astonishment at the one-sided conversation they had just
witnessed.
 
Quirking a single brow, she
cast them a smug smile before strolling after Talan.

Riding through the bustling lanes of London, the awful
stench drew her back to the present.
 
Even with the cold to dampen them, the pungent smells of the
over-crowded city were close to unbearable.
 

Young street urchins blended with lame beggars amidst
the squalor and stink of open gutters.
 
Begging for alms, nobles in costly raiment passed by them, uncaring and
oblivious.
 

Slowed by the congestion, the king’s men formed a line
the width of the cobbled lane.
 
Scurrying
from the path of the imposing guard, the populace crammed themselves into
doorways or under awnings.
 

Following behind, with Talan and Albin flanking her,
the nobles gawked at the woman important enough to require such a formidable
escort.
 
Feeling the heat of stares
focused on her, color swept across Reina’s pale features.
 
Gripping the reins with white knuckles, she
kept her gaze on the back of the guard riding in front of her.
    

As they passed a cross-section in the road, she
spotted an elder blind man sitting beside an open sewer. His hands shielding
his grizzled face from the stones pelted at him by a group of laughing young
waifs. Furious at the callous display, she pulled back on the reins.

Easing up beside her, Talan touched her sleeve. “Is
aught amiss, my lady?”

She glanced over at him with tears filling her eyes.
“Please help me down, Talan.”

Halting their horses, one of the guards called, “What
is the meaning of this delay?”
 

Reaching up for Reina’s waist, Talan glared at him.
“Hold your tongue, or I shall lend assist in the matter.”

Albin made light of the situation as the remainder of
the guard swung their horses around. “You know how it is lads,” he called to
the annoyed men. “I have never before known a woman to pass up an opportunity
to spend coin.”

Scowling in response, they once again formed a line
the width of the lane, their eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of
trouble.
  

Relieved the guards would not stop her, Reina
unbuckled her saddle-pack to retrieve the food she brought with her.
 
Gripping her skirts, she carefully stepped
around the piles of horse dung scattered along the lane.

With a glare, she sent the waifs scurrying to find
trouble elsewhere. Bending, she gently touched the elder’s sleeve before
placing the bundle in his feeble arms.

Before she could step back, he grabbed the hem of her
kirtle, staining it with his grimy hands. “Who are you, lass?”

Talan stepped up beside her. “Her Ladyship, the
Baroness of Erlegh has gifted you with food this day.”

Cradling the bundle protectively against his sunken
chest, the man said brokenly, “God bless and keep you, your ladyship.”

She bent to squeeze his hand in acknowledgement,
before making her way back to her horse.
 
Waiting for Talan’s assist, she boldly stared at each guard, daring them
to say something.
 

Once again seated, she reached for the reins and found
Albin staring at her. Tilting her head in question, he nodded approvingly. “You
are worthy of Fulke, my lady.”

Replying with a sad smile, she spurred her horse
forward.

With no food left to offer, she averted her gaze from
the endless spectacle of need surrounding her.

As they neared the city center, the assailing odor
threatened to engulf her.
 
Covering her
nose with the edge of her cloak, she prayed she would not embarrass herself by
wretching.

Noticing her pallor, Albin waved a hand to get her
attention. “I fear the stench takes some getting used to, my lady. We are
nearing Westminster Hall.
 
The breeze
coming off Thorney Island tends to make it more agreeable.”

Hoping she would make it that far, Reina nodded
weakly.

To her great relief, the cold breeze from the river
swept over them as the Hall slowly came into view.
 
Breathing deeply of the bitter wind, she felt
her stomach settle.
   

She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat as
she gazed in awe at the majestic building rising before her.
 
In the center of cream-colored stone, tall
spires framed an arched stained glass window.
 
Scores of people mulled about the courtyard boasting some of the finest
garments Reina had ever seen.

Staring at the noble women in kirtles of every imaginable
hue, she felt small and insignificant. Her heart began to pound in fear at the
thought of having to face the derision of so many.
 

If not for Talan and Albin’s reassuring smiles, she
would not have had the will to continue.

* * * *

With no moon to guide them, Fulke angrily conceded
they would have to stop for the night.
 
Guy lit a fire as he paced in tight circles.
 
Dropping to the frozen ground, he would stare
into the flickering flames, before rising to pace once more.

Gervase caught up to them some time past Matins.
 
Dismounting, he acknowledged Fulke with a
solemn nod. “I brought your court garb, my liege.
 
Lecie also sent food, if you are hungry.”

At Fulke’s absent nod, he settled himself beside Guy.
Sharing a glance, the two best friends remained unusually silent.
 

The first ray of the sun found them once again heading
for London at a blistering pace.

Fulke rode into the city alone, the longer strides of
his powerful destrier having pulled away long before. Making his way through
the teeming lanes he had at one time lost himself in, he opened his eyes to
it.
 

Blind beggars with rags covering their sightless eyes
sat in gutters, blending with those missing hands from Henry’s justice. Vendors
with carts loudly hawked their wares to nobles as they pompously strolled by
storefronts displaying a variety of costly goods.

No longer could he see what he had found so
fascinating about the city. He yearned for the crisp, clean air of the country
with Reina by his side, fearing he had ruined the one chance given him.
     

Reaching the Hall’s stables, Fulke dismounted.
 
Throwing his reins to a stable hand, he
stormed through the archway of the grand entrance. Announcing his presence to a
footman, he requested an immediate audience with the king.

By the time the footman returned, he was pacing.
"Please follow me, your lordship,” he intoned pompously.

Led to a guest chamber, Fulke felt his chest tighten.
The king was delaying his audience. Opening the door, the footman stepped back
to allow Fulke to enter.

Stepping in, Fulke whirled around. “When am I to be
summoned for my audience?”

“I am not privy to that information, your lordship,”
the footman replied stiffly.

“Are you privy to knowing where my wife is?” he asked
harshly.

“Her ladyship has been in private audience with the
king for some time now.”

His shrewd observation made Fulke want to throttle
him. “Two knights arrived with the baroness.
 
Send them to me at once.”

Before the footman could reply, Fulke slammed the door
in his face.

Striding the length of the small chamber, it did not
take long before Albin burst in with Talan hard on his heels.

Fulke glanced at their anxious faces, stopping
midstride. “Tell me everything.”

Talan stood by the door as Albin scowled. “Henry has
been with her for some time now, Fulke.” He pounded a fist into his open hand.
“We both escorted the lady, intent to remain by her side.
 
Henry swiftly commanded my withdrawal.
 
Talan followed as soon as Henry discovered
the lady could understand him without assist.”

Surprised, Fulke turned to Talan. “You converse with
the lady?”

“Aye my liege.” Talan straightened. “Lady Reina and
Hylda were kind enough to instruct me after your departure.”

Fulke crossed to lay a hand on his shoulder. “I am
glad of it, Talan. The lady needed something worthwhile to occupy her time.”

Talan lowered his eyes. “I have failed her, my liege.”

Fulke dropped his hand. “How so?”
 

“I vowed I would not leave her side,” he clenched his
hands. “She was frightened; I should not have left her.”

Fulke felt disgusted, with himself.
 
He fled while his loyal knight was willing to
brave the wrath of a king on her behalf. “You broke no vow, Talan. My lady
would not hold you to something at the risk of your life.”

Talan glanced up with troubled eyes. “What would you
have us do, my liege?”

“For the moment, I fear there is nothing we can do”

Throwing his travel-stained cloak on the silk
coverlet, he took a seat by the fire.
 
Running his hands through his hair, he ground his teeth in frustration.
He was so close to Reina, yet he may as well be back in Rochester for all the
good he was doing her.

Albin spoke to Talan. “Your somber visage is not
helping matters.
 
Take a walk to summon
food and drink.
 
I have a feeling we are
going to be here for some time.”
 
He glanced
at Fulke. “Make it a lot of drink, lad.”

* * * *

Hours later found Gervase and Guy crowding into the
chamber to join the vigil.

Fulke once again found himself pacing before the fire.
With so many conflicting emotions waging within him, he could not sit still.

Lost to his own musings, the men began to discuss
possible reasons the king would require such a lengthy private audience with
Reina. It was a comment from Gervase that snapped him to attention.
 

“She is far too beautiful for the king to overlook,”
he said matter-of-factly.

The image of Reina in Henry’s arms wafted through
Fulke’s mind.
 
Enraged, he kicked over a
stack of kindling with a curse.