Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (23 page)

She was carrying Fulke’s child. Tears of joy spilled
free with the knowledge she carried part of her beloved within her. Holding the
glass in her arms, she prayed the spring would find them together at home.

* * * *

That evening when she opened her door, she graced
Talan with a radiant smile.
“Good eve to you, Talan.”

Returning her smile, he asked, “Am I to assume you
liked your gift, my lady?”

She gazed up at the knight who had become her dearest
friend.
“You would assume correctly.”

Taking his extended arm, she almost danced down the
passage.

For the first time since arriving, she filled her
plate, eating until she could hold no more.

The king quirked a suspicious brow at her newfound
appetite and leaned into comment, only to draw up when a passing platter of
lamprey distracted him. Without giving her another thought, he returned to his
overflowing plate.

After the king had finished gorging himself, he
stood.
 
The music stopped and the hall
gradually fell silent. Surveying the hall, he announced, “The court is
preparing its move to Windsor to enjoy the twelve days of Christmastide.” He
tilted his head to acknowledge Geoffrey. “I say for all, we look forward to you
joining us, count.”

Without rising from his chair, Geoffrey lifted his
goblet.
 

A chorus of whispers started racing through the hall
at the obvious snub to the king.

Seated beside Geoffrey, Reina caught Matilda’s smirk.

Henry reseated himself without comment, signaling to
the minstrels for more music.

Couples began to dance the intricate dance steps of
the latest quadrille when the king touched Reina’s sleeve, beckoning her to
follow him.
 
Rising from her seat, she
felt the heat of a number of gazes, relieved not to see the crude comments that
went with them.
 

As soon as they were alone, the king handed her a
heavy leather pouch.
 
“On the morrow you
may have a day of leisure to explore the city.”
 
Gesturing towards the pouch, he said, “I believe that to be sufficient
coin.”

Surprised by his generosity, Reina curtseyed.
 

He stared at her in response, his look inscrutable.
After a long tense moment, he gave her a slight nod before returning to the
hall.

Overjoyed by the thought of escaping the Hall for a
full day, she rushed from the room through a side door.

Surprise lit Talan’s features when she exited from a
side door.
 
Scanning her face, he asked,
“Is there aught amiss, my lady?”

Pulling him into an alcove, she forced herself to
speak slowly.
“On the morrow, the king has granted us a
full day to explore the city.”
She showed him the bag of coins.
“Talan, we get to go shopping.”

He replied with a wry smile, “I shall inform Gervase,
my lady. He will be overjoyed to hear the news.”

Reaching her door, she beamed up at him.
“I shall be ready first thing in the morn.”

“Then we shall be here to escort you, my lady.”

* * * *

Entering the barracks, Gervase was surprised to find
Talan waiting for him.
 
Greeting a few of
the knights he recognized, he poured himself an ale.
 

Sliding on the bench across from Talan, he downed half
the tankard, before setting it down. “It is no secret that I have often
wondered why you never took more of an interest in the court ladies, Talan,” he
began.

Talan raised a brow. “And?”

“I think I finally understand,” he sighed.

“What is it that you finally understand, Gervase?”

“That every bleeding last one of them is as shallow as
the next.”

Talan’s brows shot up. “You are just realizing that
now? We have been coming to court with Fulke for years.”

“I never before had to seduce more than one woman at a
time. How was I to know?” he sulked.

“Did you not hold a conversation with the ladies you
seduced in the past?” Talan pressed.

Puzzled, he asked, “about what?”

Talan shook his head, muttering, “I swear Gervase, if
I did not see you in battle, I would wonder how you know which end of a sword
to hold.”

Mindful of the men crowded around them, he spoke low,
“I will not fail in my duty to Fulke.”

“I know this well.” Talan blew out a breath.
 
“I fear the whole situation puts me on
edge.
 
I apologize if I offended you.”

Gervase shrugged. “I am not offended. I myself wish to
see an end to the matter.” Brightening, he said, “There is one encouraging
aspect to the whole experience.”

“What would that be?” Talan asked doubtfully.

“No longer shall I think you daft for snubbing court
ladies.”

Talan laughed. “I believe there to be hope for you
yet.”

“High time you realized it,” he huffed, before
continuing, “No offense, but you are not usually one to chat over ale. Was
there a reason why you were waiting for me?”

“Aye, we escort our lady into the city on the morrow.”
Talan paused. “To shop.”

Gervase hung his head, groaning. “It is a sad day
indeed when I look forward to a day of shopping.”

Talan gripped his shoulder. “Look on the bright side,
it will give you a break from the ladies.”

Finishing his ale, Gervase set his tankard down. “This
reminds me, I am overdue for my liaison with Lady Peronell. Rumor has it she is
Reynold’s latest conquest.” Swinging his long legs over the bench, he stood to
leave. “I shall meet you outside our lady’s chamber first thing in the morn.”

“Have a care, my friend.”

With a solemn nod, Gervase trudged from the room.

Making his way through the darkened passages, he
lightly rapped on a door.
 

He plastered a smile on his face by the time Lady
Peronell opened the door, wearing only a smile. “I thought you had forgotten
me,” she pouted.

Gervase swept the reed-thin woman into his arms,
gazing into her dull brown eyes with feigned desire. “Impossible. I would
sooner forget to breath, my beauty.”

Blowing out the lone candle, he proceeded to make love
to Peronell, as she lay as unmoving as a stick beneath him.
 
Having trouble rising to the occasion, he
closed his eyes to envision a fair country maid, losing himself with gusto to
the illusion.
 

Curled against him afterwards, Gervase nudged the
conversation. “I am to escort her ladyship into the city on the morrow.”

“It must be horrid for you to serve someone impaired,”
Peronell sniped.
 
“If she were not the
king’s whore, the mute would never be tolerated at court.”
 
She stroked the lines of his muscular chest.
“How do you manage it, love?”

Enraged by the harsh words spoken against his lady,
Gervase nevertheless played his part.

“Now that you mention it,” he feigned puzzlement, “she
seems to have no difficulty understanding at all. I often find the lady
watching my lips in the most peculiar way.”

Peronell stroked her hand lower. “She would do well to
leave your lips alone.” Wrapping her fingers around the girth of his shaft, she
began to caress him. “Do you think she can understand what you are saying?”

Inwardly cursing as his traitorous body responded to
her experienced touch, he shrugged. “I fear I do not know, my lady. Since you
suggest it, I shall pay closer attention in the future,” he moaned.

Peronell stroked faster. “I shall also have to watch
her. The mute would do well to stay away from what is mine.”

“Oh?” he gasped. “From what I hear, Baron Reynold has
caught your eye.” He bucked unwillingly against her hand.

Pleased by his jealous tone, she shrugged. “Reynold
seeks pleasure, naught else. He is too rough for most.”

“But, not for you?” he asked in surprise.

She clenched her hand, forcing him to wheeze in pain.
“It is the only thing that excites me, love.”

* * * *

Early the next morning, Talan was waiting by Reina’s
door when Gervase walked stiffly down the passage.

About to question him, Gervase held a hand up. “Do not
even ask.”

Talan noted the dark shadows beneath his eyes. “You
did not return to the barracks?”

“Lady Peronell had me tied up for most of the night,”
he replied dryly.
  

“I fear you take too much on yourself, Gervase.”

“You doubt my prowess?” There was a hint of a smirk
beneath his weary expression.

“Never,” Talan responded lightly. “I know you too
well.”

“Then fear not on my account.”

“Still. I despise saying it more than most, I suppose.
Yet, should you have need, I shall endeavor to do what I must.”

Gervase grinned. “Are you offering to seduce a woman
for me, Talan?

“Aye, I guess I am” Talan smirked.
 

“That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”

Reina opened her door to find them both laughing.
Stepping out, she smiled.
“Are you ready to explore
all the city has to offer, dear sirs?”

Willing martyrs, they turned to her with a bow. “We
are, my lady.”

Reina relished the freedom of being outside. Clear and
cold, the sachet she brought to combat the smell remained unused. The frozen
ground did wonders to dampen the stench.

She took more of an interest in the city than when she
first arrived.
 
Excited to have coins for
Epiphany gifts, she could not decide which shop to visit first.

They entered a cutler’s shop where she had Talan ask
the man to display his solid silver dinner knives.

Boldly staring at her, the merchant slipped through a
curtained doorway leading to the back of the shop.
 
Returning with a wide bolt of black velvet
cloth, he unrolled it on the wood plank counter.
 
Over a dozen knives gleamed in the filtered
light coming from the shutters.

Perusing the detailed handy-work of the blades, she
turned to Talan.
“If you were to choose, which one would it
be?”

He picked up a knife to balance the weight. “This is a
fine blade, my lady.”

Brushing him aside, Gervase laughed. “Have a liking
for the scrollwork lass, I mean lad?”
 
He
held up a knife with a broader handle. “This speaks of being a man’s knife.”

“Please wait outside while I
decide for myself,”
she said, feigning frustration.

With a meaningful frown directed at the merchant,
Talan shoved Gervase out the door ahead of him.
 

She set the two aside, selecting five more for the
rest of the men. Examining the display of hair ornaments, she chose a pair of
ornate silver clips for Hylda.

Wrapping her purchases, the merchant averted his eyes
each time she looked at him. Paying with silver deniers, she smiled her thanks
before turning away with a sigh.
 
Some
things never changed.

Determined to enjoy the day, she visited several more
shops. Asking Talan to stay with her, she purchased Fulke and Warin both a pair
of soft black leather gloves.

Enthralled by the selection at the mercer’s, she
purchased bolt after bolt of vibrant colored silk, along with a huge selection
of silk thread for Hylda.

At the linen-draper’s, she purchased bolts of sheer
linen to be stitched into chemises.

Finding a nedeller, she purchased an assortment of
sewing needles.

Marveling at the delicate lace at the pointers, she
purchased several patterns for embellishments.

In the harberdasher’s, she purchased a new cloak for
Fulke as well as one for Warin. Glancing at the worn condition of Gervase and
Talan’s, she added two more.

In a tapicer shop, she purchased a tapestry with a
castle in the background, a field of wildflowers in the foreground. Reminding
her of Castell Maen, she planned to display it beside the glass Fulke had
gifted her with to remind her of home.

She paused at a cart display where she purchased
scented bath oils and soaps from Spain as a luxurious gift for herself.

To the relief of the two knights, the malemaker sold
ironbound chests. Purchasing one, Reina withheld two cloaks, having the rest of
her purchases stowed within.
 
After Talan
left instructions to have it delivered to the Hall, they stepped outside with
their arms considerably lighter.

With a smile, she presented each with a costly gray
woolen cloak, lined in soft vair fur.
“I thank you both for your
escort this day.”

“I have never possessed one finer. Thank you, my
lady.” Gervase grinned. Flinging off his worn cloak.

Stepping from the walk, he wrapped his worn one around
a beggar wearing a threadbare tunic.

Talan followed suit, finding a young boy dressed in
rags.
 
Turning back to Reina, he smiled.
“Thank you, my lady.”

“Did you think I would make you
suffer through a whole day of shopping without recompense, Talan?”

They both laughed.

Stopping at a tavern for an early supper, the trio
enjoyed what remained of their freedom. With so many people about, Reina could
not join the discourse so she sat back, content to see the two friends banter
about old times.

When they could delay their return no longer, they
slowly made their way back to the Hall.

Handing Gervase and Talan a denier to spend, she spent
the rest of Henry’s silver by giving a coin to every beggar she passed.

* * * *

The following days were hectic as Westminster Hall
prepared for the move to the country. King Henry remained active wrapping up
pressing matters that could not wait for his return.

Early one morning, Reina spotted Geoffrey of Anjou
approaching the dais.

Without bowing, he doffed his cap. “King Henry, it has
been brought to my attention that I am to share a barge for the move to
Windsor.”

Henry frowned. “Is that a problem, count?”

Geoffrey waved a hand arrogantly. “You most of all,
should know the hazards of travelling by water. I am the heir of Anjou. I do
not feel it prudent to overcrowd the barge in which I am sailing.”

Narrowing his eyes, Henry asked, “Do you dare remind
me of the White Ship?” Straightening in his seat, Henry leaned forward. The
threat in his posture, unmistakable.

Geoffrey immediately backed down. “King Henry, all of
Anjou stood devastated to hear the news of your beloved son’s drowning. I am
merely seeing to my safety.” Belatedly adding, “Along with that of your
daughter’s.”

Henry turned to his closest advisor. “Ensure the count
and his entourage sail on their own barge.”
 

Returning his cold gaze to Geoffrey, he flicked a hand
as if he were a troublesome gnat. “If that is all, be gone with you.”

Geoffrey donned his cap, before making a hasty
retreat.
   

Waiting for the next petitioner, Henry slowly surveyed
the crowded hall, before resting his gaze on Reina. Calling for a recess, he
motioned for her to precede him from the hall.

Once they were alone in the anteroom, he turned on
her. “Have you made your ability known to anyone at court, your ladyship?”
Startled by his abrupt manner, Reina’s eyes widened as she shook her head in
denial.

Henry’s brow furrowed. “If that is the case, I fear
someone must suspect. You are drawing far too many suspicious glances for my
liking.” He paused a moment, making up his mind.
 
“I hereby release you until the court removes
itself to Windsor.
 
Plan your departure
for the morrow. We shall follow within the next sennight.”

As Reina dropped into a curtsey, he waited for her
gaze to return to him. “I have sent a messenger to summon your husband to
Windsor, your ladyship.
 
Does that please
you?”

Her answering smile caused the corner of his lip to
twitch. “I see that it does.”
 

Finding Talan and Gervase, she waited for them to
acknowledge her. Dipping his head, Gervase, said, “My lady.
 
Please excuse me, I am overdue for my
…err…ah… meeting with the Lady Adelaide.”

A knowing smile lifted her lips as he weaved his way
through the milling nobles.

Clasping Talan’s arm, she rushed him into an alcove.
“The king has released me until court moves to Windsor. He has
instructed that we depart on the morrow.”

Talan looked surprised.
 
“Did he say why he was releasing you, my
lady?”
     

“He fears someone suspects me.”
She hastened to add,
“I am most careful not to
look at any one person for long, Talan.”

“Please do not be concerned, my lady.
 
Did the king say when he plans to move
court?”

“He plans on arriving in the
country within the next fortnight.”
 
She smiled.
“Talan, he
has sent for Fulke.”

* * * *

Fulke entered the tavern to join Guy, Osbert and Warin
as Lecie came from the kitchen bearing a tray.
 

“My thanks, Lecie,” he acknowledged when she set a
steaming bowl of pottage and warm roll in front of him.

“I shall be back in a moment with ale to quench your
thirst, your lordship. Do you know if Sir Albin will be joining the table?”

Taking in Lecie’s blush, Albin’s strange behavior
began to make sense. “I was just about to send my page to fetch him.”

Shoving his chair back, Warin jumped to the task.

Albin’s heavy tread sounded on the steps soon after .

“Take a seat, my friend,” Fulke called, fighting a
grin. “Lecie will no doubt be right out to tend your needs.”
  

Albin pulled out the chair across from him, grumbling
under his breath.
 
He cleared his throat
uncomfortably when Lecie appeared.

Placing a steaming bowl of pottage before him, she
asked, “Would you care for a mug of ale or some cider, Sir Albin?”

“Ale would be fine lass,” he mumbled.

Craning his neck to follow her progress to the bar, he
met Fulke’s knowing grin. “Not a word, Fulke, I mean it.”

Lecie returned to the table with a brimming full mug,
just as Guy asked, “Not a word about what?
 
What juicy tidbit are you keeping from us, Albin?”

Three things happened simultaneously after that.
 
Albin choked on the roll he had just bitten
into, Lecie lost her grip on the mug, spilling the majority of ale into Albin’s
lap, and Fulke feigned a cough to cover his burst of laughter.

Seeing what she had done, Lecie cried, “Oh Sir Albin,
forgive me,” dabbing at his tunic with a linen cloth.

Warin reached over to pound Albin on the back, handing
over his own mug for him to take a drink.

Swallowing a large gulp of ale, the roll found its
intended destination. He abruptly shifted away from Lecie’s ministrations to
stand.
 
Yanking down his tunic, he
ignored the smirking men. With his back to her, he called over his shoulder,
“No harm done lass.”
 

Giving in to his laughter, Fulke heard Albin cursing
all the way up the steps.

* * * *

Fulke stood beside the master builder on a raised
platform as a score of men hoisted a support beam into position. He turned as a
horse and rider crested a distant rise beyond the tower. Shielding his eyes
against the sun’s glare, he recognized Henry’s royal livery.
  

 
Bidding
farewell to the tower’s architect, he leapt from the platform.
 
Before he had straightened completely from
the high jump, he was running for the outer wall.
  

He slowed his pace through the gate as the rider
reined in beside him.
 

“Your lordship, King Henry commands your presence at
Windsor for a meeting of the barons.”

He feigned surprise to hear the news, replying,
“Inform the king, I shall depart on the morrow at lauds.”

“I shall do so. Good day, your lordship.” Reining
around, the messenger rode off to his next destination.

Running for his horse, he shouted for Albin.
 
He had no intention of waiting until dawn.

He vaulted into the saddle as Albin came rushing
through the gate. “I take it the summons has come?”

Fulke grinned. “To Windsor.” Spurring his horse, he
raced towards town.

Striding through the common room, he spotted his men
lounging by the fire. “We make for Windsor, layabouts.”

Whoops of merriment followed him up the stairs.

* * * *

Hoping to make Windsor by nightfall, the weather
turned against them. Outside of Buckinghamshire, the sleeting rain turned into
a blinding blizzard.
 
Determined to push
onward, the horses began to struggle against the driving force of the wind.