The Silver Falcon (65 page)

“She must have bewitched the king. No man in his right senses would willingly be unfaithful to you, my lady,” he declared, although from the first he had wondered what John saw in Isabelle. She was certainly very pretty, but she was not so out of the ordinary that it was worth offending the powerful Lusignan family. “You must keep her away from him,” he’d advised the young queen. “Until he explains himself, you should not back down. You’re bound to bear him a prince soon, and you don’t want the king to divide his attention between his bastard and his heir.”

With these words, Odon had looked meaningfully at the young queen and felt very pleased with himself. It would not take many more words to cause her to press her husband to banish this rival of hers from court forever. In this way, William would find himself at a disadvantage, permanently.

Odon would prick William’s pride by teasing him about his bastard son, waiting for William to lose his temper and do something careless. Odon grinned. For added security he had another plan, too. William was fond of little Richard, king’s bastard though he might be. What could be a more obvious solution than to ensure that he somehow lost the child? And if John really was Richard’s father, he certainly wouldn’t like it if the boy disappeared. His rage would once again be directed at William.

“Is it true my father killed your son?” Adam asked quietly one evening, looking at William with glistening eyes. “I can’t believe it.
He’s always been good to me, you know. The pigsticker beat me and fed me on scraps, but he treated his own son like a prince. My father has a son by marriage, too. But he’s never favored him.”

William did not really know what to say to the boy. The thought of Odon still made him angry, but Adam was obviously suffering, and he felt sorry for him.

“The pigsticker?” Robert’s ears pricked up.

“My mother married him just after I was born. Apparently he treated me like a real son at first. But then my mother bore him a boy with a red birthmark on his cheek, and from then on the pigsticker loved only him. When she was on her deathbed, she called for Lord Elmswick and handed me over to him. She was ill, you know, very ill.”

“Was your mother’s name Carla?” asked Robert. “I thought so,” he murmured when the boy nodded. “I met her once, only briefly, but long enough to know she was a good person.”

William glanced at him questioningly. What did Robert have to do with Adam’s mother? Was she the one who told him about Odon’s part in Enid’s death?

“I can hardly remember her face—it’s all blurry,” Adam said, interrupting William’s thoughts.

“Everyone we ever loved keeps a place in our hearts forever. If you’ve been listening to the priest at church like a good boy, you’ll know that our earthly shell is fleeting, but that good people meet again in heaven. Until then, you must live a righteous life, so that you can be reunited one day, you and your mother. Don’t you think she would be proud if she knew you were at the king’s court?” asked William kindly.

“I’m sure she would,” Adam said, nodding bravely.

“You are my page, and one day you’ll be a squire. If you’re honest, clever, and loyal to your king at all times, you’ll eventually become a knight and have a good life, both here on earth and in paradise. A deed like your father’s, though, doesn’t lead to eternal
life after his time on earth, but to hell. I let him go because a just God will punish him for his deed.”

“So he did kill him?”

“I wasn’t there, so I can’t say so for sure. But it doesn’t matter whether he killed him himself or just stood by, as he claims, because he was too cowardly to help him or my wife. He allowed it to happen, and that makes him as much a murderer as the man who held the knife. Mark my words, my boy. He who allows unrighteousness to pass makes himself as guilty as the wrongdoer himself.”

“I’ll never be a coward, I promise.” The boy’s innocent soul was in anguish, and the struggle against it was visible in his eyes.

William put his arm around the boy. “You’re a good lad, Adam.”

“I will always protect you, your lady, and your son.” Adam thrust out his chest and beat his fist on it. “With my life. I give you my word of honor.”

William smiled tenderly. He was certain that his decision to take in the boy had been the right one. While he was still reflecting on this, Marguerite came in. Adam rushed out, so she would not see his eyes were filled with tears.

“I can’t bear it any longer.” Groaning, Marguerite sank into a chair and rubbed her back. “The queen is still miserable. Whenever I walk into the hall, she gives me a nasty look and leaves as soon as she can. It’s been like this for three days. She’s not just venting her displeasure on me, though, but also on her husband. I hear she won’t even let him into her bedchamber. I must talk to her, Will. To her or John. I can’t sit and do nothing any longer.”

“Better you rest first. You’re pale, my dear. I can see that your back has been bothering you for days. The journey must have been too much for you.” He kissed her on the cheek. “What would you say if Adam brought you something from the kitchen and you allowed yourself to be waited on for a while?”

“But I have to speak to her eventually,” she protested weakly.

“Of course, as soon as you’re better. Now lie down for a while.”

On William’s command, Adam hurried off and came back with roast meat, cheese, and a slightly wrinkled apple, as well as sparkling cider and enough bread for a whole company.

The nursemaid and the knights did not receive their food from the castle kitchens. Maids from Canterbury distributed cabbage, meat and fish pies, eggs, onions, bacon porridge, bread, and beer among the barons’ retinues. The men did not eat in the hall or inside their tents but sat together, huddled around the constantly burning fires in front of their tents.

Once Marguerite and the child had been taken care of, William and Robert went silently to the hall to join the king’s banquet again. There were only two days to go before Epiphany, when Christmastide would finally come to an end.

“I’m glad you get on so well with Adam,” William remarked spontaneously.

“He’s a good boy,” he replied at length. “And he’s plucky, unlike his father.”

“I’ve always been able to rely on you.” For the first time in a long while, there was not a hint of reproach in William’s voice.

“Nothing’s changed there, William.”

“Good,” he said, satisfied. It was bad enough that he had to worry about Marguerite. She was taking the trouble with the queen too much to heart. At first, William had hoped Isabelle would voice her suspicions to her husband and that she would accept his explanation—whatever that might be. But in vain. Either she had not said anything or his answer had made matters worse. William sighed. Women seemed to think and behave differently from men. Their ways of waging war were more subtle and brutal. Whereas a man with any pride would strike a rival down, women banned their straying husbands from their beds. This dubious tactic would gradually wear down the king, to be
sure, but it would also, thanks to his bad mood, spoil the festive period for all their guests.

“You don’t look very well,” said Odon from behind William and Robert just before they reached the hall. He grinned smugly. “The queen is crying her eyes out and hardly eating. And you don’t look any better. It’s understandable. It must feel terrible to raise only bastards in your house. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. Truly humiliating. And another one on the way soon. Or perhaps you think the child your wife is carrying is actually yours this time?” Odon laughed condescendingly. “It’s not a bad position to be in, keeper of a royal bastard, but it must be painful to have other men’s delightful children swarming around you when you haven’t produced any offspring of your own. I mean, Adam and Richard are both wonderful sons, but they’re not yours!”

While William looked at him, aghast, Robert clenched his fists. “You talk too much,” he said to Odon.

“Leave it, Robert.” William held him back.

Odon clapped William on the shoulder and pretended to feel for him. “The king’s right to your wife is older than yours, but you’ll get over it. After all, he could have made a better match than you for the girl if it weren’t for his bastard. So you were lucky,” Odon asserted with a sneer.

For a brief moment William regretted not having slit his throat in the forest.

“One day I’m going to smash that asinine face of his. How can he suggest that about Marguerite and the king?” growled Robert once they were far enough away from Odon. “Or is there some truth to the rumor?”

“No.” William turned to him in shock. “I should have told you about Isabelle’s suspicions. It’s a stupid mistake, that’s all. Richard is my son. I don’t have the slightest doubt about it.”

“Of course not, that’s what I said.”

Although William had always known that Richard was his son, he was still beset by a guilty conscience because it was not long ago that he had suspected Marguerite of being Robert’s lover. He knew, from his own painful experience, how jealousy could gnaw at one’s heart, and how destructive the terrible feeling of being betrayed could be. Hatred, envy, and resentment consumed their victims from within, making them pitiable and weak, just as the perpetual desire for revenge blinded its victims to the beauty of life.

Odon rubbed his hands with satisfaction. The first part of his plan had been set in motion. He had got the young queen so worked up that she had sworn revenge. So now he could concentrate on the second part.

“Follow me,” he murmured to the young maid, waving to her.

“Right now?” she asked, blushing as she put her hand under her bonnet to push back a stray hair. Her hands were red and chapped from her work. Everything about her was ordinary. That was why she was perfect for his purpose. Her complexion was doughy, her nose a little too wide, her lips narrow, and her eyes too close together. She was indistinguishable from any other girl, except for one thing: she was desperately in love with Odon and determined to do anything for him.

Most maids did not get their hopes up when a knight took them to bed. It was a simple give-and-take, nothing more. A little affection and relief in exchange for a warm, soft bed and a hearty meal. But this girl had fallen for Odon. He had seen it in her eyes long before he’d bedded her for the first time.

Odon did not look for beauty—his wife had that in abundance. He sought admiration and complete submission. A girl like this would want to come back, not for the warm fur blankets on
his bed, but for him. Odon had known immediately that he could exploit her devotion to carry out his plan.

“They’ll beat me if I’m caught,” she breathed.

Odon knew what she liked, so he held her neck and whispered in her ear, “I need you.” He felt her shiver as her resistance melted away. Not the way you think, he thought arrogantly, but for something that will cost you your head if you’re caught. He grinned enticingly, took her by the hand, and pulled her away.

In a dark corner where no one could see them, he took her in his arms and kissed her until he could feel her knees trembling.

“You have to do something for me,” he said. “It’s very important.”

The maid, whose name he could not even remember even though she had told him twice, groaned softly as he began to squeeze her breasts.

He interspersed his whispered instructions every now and then with tiny kisses on the spot he knew made her particularly amenable.

“But—” she protested.

“I thought you loved me,” he said reproachfully, making as if to push her arms away from him.

“Oh, I do, I do,” she exclaimed heatedly. “I’ll do it, exactly as you say.”

Odon pressed her to him, grinning triumphantly over her shoulder.