Lady of the English (27 page)

Will was keeping his head down and staying clear of trouble as much as he could. He admired D’Ypres as a soldier, but he was wary of the large Flemish contingent Stephen maintained as the backbone of his army. Not that D’Ypres was in camp just now.

He had been out on a patrol since yesterday afternoon.

Stephen was preparing to advance on Lisieux and force Geoffrey to commit himself. At the same time he was negotiating with various Norman lords and trying to gain their support. Yesterday, Will had served wine to Rotrou of Mortagne, who had agreed to Stephen’s terms. Today, Stephen was conducting talks with the lords of Tancarville and Laigle.

Going to the camp fire, Will helped himself to a small loaf of bread, breaking it open and tucking into it a thick slice of bacon from the rashers his cook was frying in a huge skillet, then, chewing with enjoyment, he went to look at his horses.

Forcilez, his pied destrier, swung his head and blew a gust of hay-scented breath over him. Will fed him a piece of crust and ran his hand down the solid black and white shoulder. Thus far the stallion was holding his condition despite three months in the field and Will was pleased with his stamina.

Turning at a sudden rumble of hooves, he was in time to see William D’Ypres ride past with his entourage. The mercenary captain’s expression was thunderous. Something bad had happened, that was for certain. Swallowing the last of his breakfast, Will hastened over to Stephen’s pavilion, where he was expected anyway.

ttt

D’Ypres spoke to Stephen with his rage controlled, and all the more powerful for it.

209

LadyofEnglish.indd 209

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

“He knew,” he growled. “Robert of Gloucester knew about the trap I set for him. How many Normans here in camp are working on his behalf and not ours?” He shot a glare at Will who was decanting the wine for the imminent meeting with Laigle and de Tancarville.

Will turned to Stephen. “Do you want me to leave, sire?”

Stephen shook his head. “I trust your discretion, Will. I hardly think you have been sneaking information out of the camp to the Earl of Gloucester or the Count of Anjou.”

“Well, someone has,” D’Ypres spat, “because the whoreson suddenly turned back from the place where I know he had arranged to meet Geoffrey of Anjou’s man. My informants are men I can rely on.”

Will said, “I did not realise my lord of Gloucester was a sworn enemy.”

D’Ypres curled his lip. “He may have made his oath to our lord king, but he is just biding his moment to turn to the other side.”

“What of the count’s man?” Stephen asked. “Was he there?”

“No trace beyond a few hoofprints, sire. The Angevins sneak around like smoke and shadows, and when Gloucester saw my troop, he fled.”

Will busied himself with the wine. From what he could glean, D’Ypres was convinced Robert of Gloucester was passing information to the Angevins and planning to defect to their company. That could well be the case, but if D’Ypres had failed to trap Robert in the act, there was nothing to be done.

Indeed, there were likely to be serious repercussions from this failed attempt, and both Stephen and D’Ypres must be aware that they were treading on precarious ground.

ttt

The consequences arrived two days later as Stephen was striking camp for his march on Lisieux. Robert of Gloucester had been 210

LadyofEnglish.indd 210

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

absent from the court ever since D’Ypres’s failed attempt to trap him in treacherous dealings, but now he arrived at the head of his knights, and was cheered by the Normans and English in the camp because he was popular and the eldest surviving son of the old king. Will was attending Stephen with some others, including D’Ypres, when Robert flung into the tent, his eyes hard with anger.

Stephen immediately rose to his feet.

Robert knelt in obeisance. “Sire,” he said curtly.

Stephen kissed him and raised him to his feet. “I am pleased you are here,” he said. “There is a matter we must set to rights between us.”

“Indeed there is,” Robert said. “I will not be spied upon by your Flemish cur and have my name dragged through the slime. I will not be subjected to attacks on the road when I am about my legitimate business.”

“How is meeting up with Angevin spies legitimate business?” D’Ypres demanded, stepping forward.

“You cross the line!” Robert bared his teeth. “But then why should I expect you to know what honour is when you were banished from your own family for dishonour!”

D’Ypres flushed. “Do not speak to me of crossing lines, my lord. You are so far over your own, you will never find the way back!”

“Peace!” Stephen raised his hand. “I will not have this wran-gling between my lords. I have said this matter must be set to rights, not inflamed!”

“Then leash your dog and whip him to order,” Robert said.

“I do not deny I was going to meet with the Angevins, but not to commit treason. I was garnering intelligence as any commander does—intelligence that I would have brought to you, except I was unable to complete the rendezvous because of this lackwit’s blundering. So now I have no intelligence. If he was acting 211

LadyofEnglish.indd 211

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

alone, I have to ask if the dog sits in place of the master, and if he was not, then what does it say of your motives, sire?”

Stephen’s face was scarlet. “It says I am a prudent man. What does it say of you that you did not come to me openly and tell me you were meeting with a spy from the enemy camp? What am I to glean from that in my turn?”

Gloucester stood tall. “These arrangements are delicate. I deemed it safer to hold back until I had information. But of course now I have none. My hands are empty, and it is not my fault.”

“You were going to defect,” D’Ypres growled.

Gloucester arched his brow at the mercenary. “You have proof? Doubtless had your ambush succeeded, you would have brought my corpse before the king and sworn your lies over the wound between my shoulder blades.” He glared at Stephen. “I swore my oath to you on the proviso that you would rule in justice and honour. Where is that justice and honour now?”

“You swore your loyalty too,” Stephen replied.

“Have I violated that loyalty in any way?”

Stephen lifted both hands, palm facing outwards. “Indeed no, but you did not signal your intentions clearly. Let us treat this as what it is: an unfortunate misunderstanding. I swear to you it will not happen again, but in your turn, come to me with your plans next time, rather than hoarding them to yourself.

On that understanding, let us have peace, because we have an army to set on the road.”

Gloucester gave a curt nod. “So be it,” he said, “but I will not stand for more.”

Stephen leaned forward and gave him the kiss of peace.

“Good,” he said. “And now you and William will make your peace too.”

D’Ypres’s throat swelled until the veins bulged and he looked as if he were harbouring a craw full of unspoken words.

212

LadyofEnglish.indd 212

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

Gloucester hesitated and then gripped the Fleming’s shoulders and the men exchanged an embrace that expressed violence rather than resolution, even if form was observed. Both dogs might have been leashed, but neither was muzzled.

Will decided to remain clear of the pair of them and do his best to avoid being bitten. He was certain it would come to bloodshed, even if for the moment it had been postponed.

What he was less certain of was the truth, because it seemed to him that everyone was dancing around their own versions of it and feeding the flames, while the fire that mattered dwindled and went out.

ttt

Will’s vow to avoid trouble lasted little more than a week. The king had camped at Livarot, intending to retake Lisieux and bring Geoffrey of Anjou to battle. He saw to it that his own men erected their tents and tended their mounts, then retired to his own pavilion.

Having dropped the tent flap behind him, he went to the small devotional at his bedside and knelt to thank God for being with him through another day. He asked His protection from evil and begged forgiveness for his sins. Standing on the devotional was a small, exquisite incense box that Queen Adeliza had given him as a gift in the days when he had sometimes ridden as her escort. He cupped the dainty thing in his large hand, running his thumb over the inlaid silver and the intricate cerulean-blue enamelling. Inside were several pieces of precious frankincense and a small silver spoon, the end of which bore an image of the Virgin. He was frugal with the frankincense and only burned it on special occasions, because he wanted to preserve her original gift for as long as he could, and because frankincense, given to the baby Jesus in the stable at Bethlehem, was a very precious commodity, not to be squandered on the mundane. In its smoke was the breath of God and kings.

213

LadyofEnglish.indd 213

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

He often thought of Adeliza when he prayed. His vision of “Heaven’s Queen” was inextricably bound up with his image of her at a crown-wearing, robed in cloth of silver and a cloak of blue. It was how he always thought of her, although he knew she was living quietly in retirement at Wilton and devoting herself to good works. She would always be a queen to him. He thought that when he returned to England, should his road pass by Wilton, he would go there and pay his respects.

His wistful ruminations were rudely curtailed by loud shouts from outside the tent. He put down the little incense box and hurried out just in time to have a Norman soldier crash into him, blood pouring from his broken nose and cut lip. A Fleming pounced upon the man with a snarl and smashed his bunched fist into his victim’s face again. Will had staggered at the first assault, but righted himself, seized the Fleming by the shoulders and flung him to one side. A dagger flashed and pain streaked along Will’s ribs. He avoided the second slash of the knife and managed to grab the Fleming’s wrist and with a hard twist disarm him. Several Albini knights who had been frozen with astonishment now leaped into the fray. The Fleming was caught and pinned, but more of his comrades appeared out of the night, intent on his rescue, and they brought in pursuit more Normans, in a rapid chain of violent brawls. Will ducked back inside his tent, grabbed his sword and shield, and jammed on his helm. His side throbbed like a drum in time to the swift beat of his heart. He did not know how hard he was bleeding, but there was as yet no stain on the outside of his gambeson.

Plunging back out of the tent, he rallied his men around him and drove Flemings and Normans alike away from his ground.

Shouts, screams, and the clash of weapons rent the night. Two loose packhorses galloped past. Across from Will’s camp, the great round pavilion belonging to the Norman lord Hugh de Gournay was on fire. Will seized a water jug from outside his 214

LadyofEnglish.indd 214

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Lady of the English

cook tent and ran to help beat out the flames, shouting over his shoulder for his men to bring the barrels of sand that they had been using to clean their hauberks. Mounted men pounded through the camp, brandishing spears and swords: the personal knights of the king’s household riding through to restore order and round up the instigators.

“Whoreson Flemings!” spat a Norman knight who was beating at the flames of de Gournay’s tent with a leather cape.

“They started this?” Will panted.

The man nodded. “Over provisions!” he said between thuds of the cape. “Caught one of the bastards stealing a tun of wine from our supplies…Said he had the right to take it because we were hoarding stocks and their lot had none. Next moment all of his cronies arrived and we weren’t going to stand by and let them steal what’s ours.”

Will’s knights started shovelling sand on the fire, but it was plain that Hugh de Gournay’s tent was a lost cause and all they could do was clear the ground and prevent the flames from spreading. De Gournay was in a seething fury as he regarded the destruction of his camp, his face black and a horse blanket clutched in his grip from his efforts to put out the flames. “I will have no more of this behaviour from the king’s Flemings,” he said through clenched teeth. “Enough is enough.” He gestured to the knight standing beside Will. “Pack up what’s left of this mess. We’re leaving.” He started to turn away.

“But what of the march upon Lisieux?” Will pressed his hand to his side where blood had now begun to soak through his gambeson.

“What of it?” de Gournay said with a large shrug. “Let the king use his Flemings since he loves them so much. Robert of Gloucester is right. He lets them do as they please. The Flemings are a law unto themselves. If the king will not heed complaints in council, then let us see if he heeds this! If I were 215

LadyofEnglish.indd 215

6/9/11 5:35 PM

Elizabeth Chadwick

you, I’d do the same: take your men and go.” He strode off shouting orders.

Will wove his way back to his own camp and ordered one of his knights to fetch a chirurgeon. The night’s brawl had created a high demand for such services and by the time one arrived, Will had peeled off his garments and packed his wound with linen bandages. He had several nasty burns and singed brows as result of the fight with de Gournay’s now incinerated tent. The chirurgeon clucked his tongue as he threaded his needle with the hair from a destrier tail. “You are fortunate the blade filleted along your ribs and not under them,” he said, “or else you’d be a corpse, and I’ve seen too many of them tonight. Plenty of men will be stitched in their shrouds following this foolish brawl, never mind put back in their skins.”

Will clenched his fists on his knees and squeezed his eyes shut as the chirurgeon began his work.

“More than just de Gournay have left the camp,” the man said between stitches. “I counted at least a dozen Norman lords riding out. The king’s numbers will be much weakened.”

Will grimaced. He supposed Stephen might persuade some to return, but whatever happened, there would be no advance on Lisieux now. The rift was too great and the divided could not conquer.