The Blue Falcon (47 page)

“
Oh, nay,” Wynne said.
“
I do not think he will fight. He has men-at-arms, but my lady says he will never meet Conan. He fears him. Tedric will find a way to trick him.”

“
And how will he do that, lass?”

Wynne’s chin quivered slightly. Tedric had overpowered her so easily and treated her with such cruelty that she feared he might succeed.
“
He keeps my lady within the keep. She has not ventured even into the town since he killed the priest.” She shook her head sadly.
“
I do not know what Sir Tedric will do, but he promises my lady that Conan will die.”

“
What priest was killed?” Mallory asked.

“
Father Merrick
--
for hiding Sir Conan in the church.”

Mallory and Thurwell were silent for a moment. Thurwell began to examine the wheel.
“
We have tarried too long,” he said under his breath.
“
Let us make haste for Cordell.”

Every day just after breaking the fast, Sir Conan would walk the perimeter of the Anselm wall just as his father had done before him. Now it was the Blue Falcon committing to memory every curve of the land and every tree. He would know instantly if there was so much as a bush out of place. Conan had increased the number of bowmen looking out through the parapets and had many men inside the great, long wall ready to take up arms at a moment’s notice.

Conan looked out over the land that would be his when his father was gone. He remembered a time when he attached much glory to the thought. But he had since learned that being the ruler of land and men was not a glorious job.

With spring on the horizon, the time for a confrontation was near. He would be cau
tious. He worried about Theodo
ric’s support of Tedric. Fighting Tedric would be easier than battling those many heathens on the Crusade, but finishing him would only commit two great families to war; not even Phalen Castle was worth that price. But Chandra’s well-being was worth a great deal more than that.

As he walked toward the keep, he noticed that his mother stood, hands held in front of her, watching him. She no longer held her head high and there was no bright smile
--
nor had there been for a very long time. The face that greeted him was frozen in a sour, pained expression. Udele had grown old.

Conan bowed somewhat stiffly, wondering what problems she would air this time.
“
Good morning, madam,” he greeted.

“
I see your army rises,” she said, indicating the men
m
oving around them.
“
They prepare daily, but no one can say for what.”

“
I have told you, madam, they are ready for a fox that will sneak in the night.”

“
But will you take Phalen? It is yours. Why do you tarry?”

“
I wait, but the time spent is not wasted. A hasty attack could see the lady Chandra hurt or even killed. I will take care with my moves, but when I move, Tedric will have no doubt that I have arrived.”

“
Chandra,” she sighed.
“
You still fret for the wench?”

“
And if I give no care to her safety, madam, who will?”

“
It is not your concern.”

“
Nay, madam, others forced her marriage to Tedric and she has suffered greatly. Even now she is abused and without a protector.”

Udele raised one brow and looked at her son suspiciously. Conan had never confessed his brief visit to Cordell after returning from war.
“
How do you know she is abused?”

“
I have it on the best authority. I intend to free her.”

“
Free her,” Udele gasped. She reached out a hand and clutched at Conan’s arm.
“
Conan, you must tell me true. Do you intend to claim the wench?”

“
Madam, do not speak of the lady Chandra in such a way again,” he said angrily.
“
She is good and kind and never deserved to have such trouble nestle on her own stoop. I have known many women, but there is none to compare to Lady Chandra in strength, wisdom and goodness.”

“
But Conan, you have other things to fight for! Your land! Your family!”

Conan looked at her closely.
“
And will my lands desert me if I free Lady Chandra from her bondage? Will my family turn from me? You speak of her as if she is naught but a beggarly camp follower. She is a lady.”

Udele lowered her eyes.
“
She has no family, no wealth. Her name is attached only to Tedric
--
”

“
Is that reason enough not to free her?”

Udele’s eyes snapped up to her son’s.
“
Do you mean to have her?”

“
I intend to free her from Tedric’s bondage and cruelty. What may come later, I will not guess.”

“
You love her.”

“
Yea,” he said softly.

“
And if she is free of her husband, will you take her? Will you bring her here to my home and make her lady of this keep?”

Conan looked into the green eyes of his mother. Make her the lady? He would be proud to have Chandra stand at his side. He loved her true, and he felt her love reaching out to him even from this distance. He prayed there would come a day when all strife would be laid away and he could go to Chandra in love, promising her his devotion and protection. For now he would make her safe.

He was about to answer his mother, but the guard from the tower shouted to get his attention.

“
A man approaches!”

As Conan turned to go to the wall, Udele pulled at his sleeve.
“
Conan, answer me!”

A warrior and lord first, he pulled his arm free from her grasp and went to the wall to view this man before allowing his entry.

Udele stared at her son’s back for many moments. Would he dare to bring Chandra to Anselm and place her above his own mother? I am the lady of this hall, she thought angrily. There will be no other lady here while I live!

She turned sharply and her angry steps took her back into the hall. She had waited upon the hope that Conan would ruthlessly attack Phalen Castle, retrieve his lands and have the matter done. But now his intention was clear. He would not sacrifice Chandra. He meant to have her or nothing. And Udele could not allow it. She knew the way to enrage Tedric.

No one entered Anselm easily. Conan was cautious about letting even a lone man bearing a message inside his walls. He expected nothing but trickery from Tedric.

The man was nervous and would not place the message in the guard’s hand. When Conan approached, the rider looked him over carefully.

“
You are Sir Conan?” he questioned.

“
Aye.”

“
I see no falcon,” the man said uneasily.
“
I was told you would have a falcon upon your shoulder.”

“
The bird is in the mews. He is new.”

“
I see no scar,” the man attempted.

Conan cocked one brow and smiled at the little man.

Whoever had a message for him had certainly described Conan carefully. He leaned closer so that the man might view part of the scar still visible near his temple. The remainder of it was now covered by a beard.

The man shrugged and put the rolled parchment in Conan’s hand. Conan broke the seal and opened the missive. The message was short and concise. He started and quickly looked over his shoulder before reading the rest of his message.

“
The man who sent this letter,” he said to the messenger.
“
What was his name?”

“
I do not know, Sir Conan,” the man replied.

“
Where can he be found?”

The man shrugged.
“
I was sent from Colchester, but he does not live there. He will meet me at the same inn for your reply on a day I am not to reveal.”

Conan smiled to himself. How cautious they were. He whistled for a page, and a young lad came running eagerly.
“
Go to the mews and bring me two feathers from my bird. Be certain they come from Mars even if you have to pluck them yourself.” The lad’s eyes grew round at the thought of his errand, but Conan urged him on.

“
There is food and drink for you in the hall and a place to sleep one night if you wish it. Return to your man with just two feathers and tell him that I will know where to find him. And tell him the time is soon.”

The man nodded, though he could make no sense of the message. Conan pointed in the direction of the hall and watched as the man walked toward it.

With the parchment rolled up in one hand, he idly struck the palm of the other. A traitor in his house. And they watched for the dove. As in the past, he and his friends would not be parted for long.

Chapter 24

Another lone messenger came meekly to the Anselm gate, a youth of less than twenty years. There were no protectors to ensure that he would return to his master. He called out to the guard,
“
I bear letters from Sir Tedric, for Sir Conan
--
” He faltered and choked on the words he was sent to bear.

Many tension-filled minutes passed before he heard the loud creaking of the drawbridge. The doors to the gatehouse opened and the messenger spurred his horse. He rode through the gatehouse, over the bridge, through the great oaken doors and into the huge yard, the bridge raising behind him. On either side of him were lines of completely costumed infantry, all wearing the red and blue of Anselm, all with their hands fixed on the hilts of their swords, completely outfitted in mail and armor.

Conan would take no chance that Tedric’s plan was to use his messenger to open the doors to his army.

Trembling, the lad dismounted. He was surrounded by an army, and he wondered if the Blue Falcon, the man whose warrior skills he had heard so much about, would kill him with his own sword, or if one of these many soldiers would be ordered to slay him after the message was read.

He looked anxiously about, his legs barely able to hold him up in the midst of this army. Finally, from the end of the long line of handsomely garbed warriors, a man approached. His red and blue tunic fitted handsomely across his broad shoul
ders. He limped slightly as he walked, and the messenger wondered if that was the injury he had incurred in the battle of Acre, when he was said to have slain more than twenty heathens whilst his leg dripped blood. A falcon, his
j
esses painted red against the blue-black of his feathers, rode the knight’s shoulder.

The messenger fell to one knee, holding the papers out before him. He felt the roll pulled from his hand. He kept his head bent, looking at the ground, a toe of the great knight’s shoe within his sight. He waited. His back stiffened and his shoulders began to ache, but the toe of the shoe was still in his sight. His forehead began to bead with sweat though the day was cool. His legs began to shake and falter under the abusive kneeling. Why had he not been fed to the hungry soldiers all about him? Tedric’s missive had not been so long as to cost him this amount of time. Was it possible that the great and powerful Blue Falcon could not read? Nay, it could not be so. He had been advised to deliver the message to his hand, not the hand of a castle scribe.

“
Rise,” the gruff voice commanded.

Shakily he found his footing. He saw rage in the knight’s blue eyes and he thought it would be the last sight he would see.

“
You are aware of impending war between Sir Tedric and me?” Conan asked roughly.

“
Yea,” he returned, his voice quivering.

“
And the missive,” Conan said, giving the parchment a shake.
“
Do you know it to be an invitation to war?”

“
Yea,” he choked.

“
But you brought it. I would know why.”

The messenger saw no compassion in the blue eyes, but he was without choice. He answered honestly.
“
My family is in sore need of shelter and food. They have no farm or animals. Sir Tedric promised a reward for my family. My life is forfeit for theirs.” He gulped and dropped his eyes from the penetrating stare. Moments passed.

“
You show courage. Courage should be rewarded. Make your choice. Stay and pledge yourself to your new lord or return to Tedric.”

He looked up in disbelief. He locked eyes with the great knight for a moment. This act of kindness did not soften the rage he saw there. He fell to one knee and bowed his head.
“
My lord,” he said.

“
Wise as well as courageous,” Conan said flatly.
“
Your life would have been short with the fox. His days are numbered.”

Sir Conan turned.
“
Give this man food and drink,” he barked.

The lad found himself hoisted to his feet. He caught a glimpse of Sir Conan as he strode away from his men. The strides were long and quick, the limp less evident.

The doors to the hall burst open as Conan entered the room. Those soldiers not about their duties filled the hall. A sense of order settled over them at the moment of Conan’s presence. Eyes and ears were ready for a command from the master. Word spread quickly within the stout walls of the hamlet.

Alaric had heard the news that word had come from Tedric, and he came quickly from the stables. Udele, in kind, had ventured from the uppermost chambers to hear what word came to her son. As she descended the stair, she was frozen in her place by the icy blue eyes of her son, and for the first time, she felt terror. With a sweeping bow, Conan indicated the royal chair for the lady of Anselm. Poised, she walked past him and took her seat.

“
Pray, sit, my lord,” he said to his father.
“
Beside your wife.”

Alaric perched on the edge of the
chair, looking expectant
ly at hi
s son.

“
Tedric is ready to parley,” Conan said.
“
His supporters are few. He holds Phalen still and will meet me there. He holds his wife, Chandra, and her son as hostages. He offers their lives in exchange for the castle and land. He invites me to Phalen to give my word before witnesses that we have come to an agreeable treaty. In exchange for my promise, he will allow Lady Chandra and her son to live.”

“
The castle means more to him than his wife and son?” Alaric asked incredulously.

“
At present. He boasts word from an informer that Chan
dra is an adulteress and the son she bore is not his.”

“
Chandra?” Alaric questioned under his breath. Udele stiffened in her chair, her son watching her reaction carefully.

“
I am the accused lover and father,” Conan said slowly, his eyes on his mother.

Alaric half rose. He had not dared voice that suspicion even to himself.

Conan did not look at his father. Alaric followed Conan’s
g
aze to Udele.
“
Tedric takes great pleasure in telling me that my own mother had the news delivered to him.”

“
You?” Alaric choked, bending over Udele.
“
You would do such a thing? You would betray your own son?”

Conan’s hand was on Alaric’s arm, pulling him from Udele. Alaric faced Conan.
“
God’s truth,” Conan said,
“
I am the father of her child. And I have loved her long
--
long before I took her. Tedric be damned, I will have her and my son unharmed, or all of Tedric’s allies will feel the weight of my anger!”

Alaric looked with venom at his wife. Then he withdrew from her side and went to stand behind Conan, giving him silent permission to handle this in his own way.

Conan faced his mother.
“
Why did you send this word to my enemy?” he ground out.

“
Chandra is a witch,” Udele said easily.
“
She makes you look the fool. She would bind you with her rosy breasts and lock you into her spell, but she brings you nothing! She is poor and has no name!”

With a snarl and a grimace, Alaric moved farther from his wife. He felt the urge to strike her senseless.

“
Has she betrayed me?” Conan barked.
“
Nay! Has she thrown herself in my path and tempted me? Nay! I crept to her chamber and begged her merest kiss! But you have betrayed me and I cannot name the reason. Why?”

‘
“
Twas for your own good,” Udele replied, her voice beginning to tremble. Never had she been so frightened of him. His size and strength seemed bent to her destruction.
“
Chandra would bring you low. She has pranced before you as an anxious harlot while your own wife lay suffering in her bed. She is evil! She is
--
”

His hand came out hard against her cheek and she fell back into the chair. Before she could clear her vision, he was before her, his arms braced on the sides of her chair so she could not escape his questions.

“
You sent this word to Tedric in hopes that he would kill them both?”

Udele sniveled piteously, rubbing her stinging cheek with one hand and picking at her gown with the other.
“
You could take Phalen. Tedric is no match for you,” she whined.

“
You will tell me how you knew the child was sired by me,” he growled.

Udele began to weep.
“
Twas for your good. You could not be strong while tied to her charms. She would bind you with her evil seductions. You would bring her here and make her lady of this hall. I am the lady of this hall! I am the lady
--
”

“
Madam!” he shouted.

“
Conan, my love,” she whimpered.
“
She is wrong for you. One taste of her lips has sent you crazed, thinking naught of your family and lands, but only of her! Don’t you see? She would rule your existence, and there would be nothing left for you. Nothing but a shadow where a great warrior once stood!” She broke into more choking sobs.
“
Nothing left for you, nothing left for me
...

“
I am young still,” she continued.
“
I would see your hall managed perfectly; you know that I can do that. You need not share your plenty with so many! There is time yet to find a rich wife: a wealthy woman to add lands to ours! Anselm is yours! Phalen! Stoddard! If Cordell is your desire, take it! Who would stay you? For Galen, to be castellan to one of your estates is enough; he does not need more. Edythe is gone and will take no share.”

Galen, who was standing near his father, turned his back sharply, unable to look at his mother another moment. Alaric’s fists were clenched at his sides.

Conan spoke again, slowly.
“
Edythe. My God, what have you done?”

“
Twas her plan to accuse me! She would have turned my own husband against me! And she would have taken all that we worked for to a knight of no means! They would attach themselves to you like leeches, sucking your power and dividing your lands!”

The door to the hall opened and Udele’s servant entered. He looked at the gathering, observing Conan’s rage and his mistress’s distraught manner. The news had traveled quickly. There was pain in the manservant’s eyes as he faced Conan.
“
Sir Conan, I would speak,” he begged humbly.

Udele’s eyes shot to the servant’s as she heard his voice.
“
So,” she spat,
“
even you would betray me.”

“
Lady Edythe is alive,” Pierce said to Conan, glancing hesitantly at Alaric.
“
I could do her no more harm. I left her in the wood with money enough to buy a horse and clothes to make her look like an aging peasant woman. She was bound
f
or Swaffham Bulbeck and would wait there until her brother and husband returned.”

“
I sent my riders to every nunnery in the country,” Alaric protested.

Pierce shook his head.
“
They would have been sent away. Lady Edythe would not have returned to this place until she could be assured of Sir Conan’s protection.”

Alaric looked with hatred to his wife.
“
Your evil web so ensnared this hall that my own daughter feared to trust me!” he snarled. He turned back to Pierce.
“
And this message?” he questioned.
“
My wife does not speak. How does she know enough to send word to Tedric?”

“
Milord,” Pierce began,
clearing his throat.
“
The lace
maker, Giselle, tells milady what she wants to know.”

“
So she is a sorceress!” Alaric shouted.

“
Nay, milord. She does not play with spells, but sees the future through a crystal.” He cast a worried glance toward Udele and then straightened and went on resolutely.
“
There was little choice for the woman, Giselle, milord. Milady threatened her.” He looked toward Udele again as if he could not bear the pain of what he was forced to do.
“
Beg forgiveness, milady,” he said meekly.
“
I cannot give you aid when you plot against these children and murder
--
”

Udele looked at him coldly and then, in a measured action, spit at him. She lowered her eyes again, picking at her gown.

“
Murder? Edythe lives
--
” Conan began.