by Kevin Ashman
‘My Lady Elisabeth,’ he announced, ‘first of all, my condolences for the loss of your husband and indeed, my beloved brother.’
‘Thank you, Owen,’ said Elisabeth quietly, ‘I expect your pain is no less than mine.’
‘Indeed,’ said Owen. ‘Secondly, please accept our gratitude in receiving us here this evening, so soon after the tragedy. I appreciate the wounds are still raw but there are things that must be arranged as soon as possible in order to protect the family’s affairs.’
‘I understand,’ said Elisabeth, ‘and of course, you are right but first, please allow me to discharge my obligations as a hostess and provide respite from your long journey. Please be seated.’
With the formalities over, all the Knights sat down and conversation resumed as the food was brought in. The fare was simple yet elegant, consisting of rabbit stew and slices of swan accompanied by roast vegetables and loaves of bread. The food was washed down by mead and wine before the tables were cleared and conversation turned to the politics of the day.
Throughout the evening, Gerald of Essex went out of his way to engage the elder of the two girls in polite conversation and indeed, the Lady Suzette found his attentions more than flattering, finding herself very attracted to the handsome young man. The Lady Elisabeth talked at length with Owen Cadwallader until finally they came to the subject that both knew was the real reason for Cadwallader’s visit.
‘Owen,’ said Elisabeth, ‘I know you mean well but I have my concerns.’
‘And what possible concerns can there be?’ asked Owen, ‘it is for the best.’
‘Perhaps we could discuss this more privately?’ asked Elisabeth as heads looked up at the raised voices.
‘Of course,’ said Owen. ‘I forget myself.’ He turned to his Knights.
‘Gentlemen, I think you will join me in thanking our hostess for fine fare and agree that it has been a long time since we have eaten so well in such pleasant company.’
Shouts of drunken approval echoed around the hall accompanied by the banging of tankards on tables.
‘But alas,’ continued Owen, ‘the time is nigh that we break up this gathering for I have business to discuss and request you retire to your quarters to continue your merrymaking. I will arrange wine to be brought.’
‘Thank you, My Lord, My Lady,’ came a chorus of voices and eventually they filed out with Gerald of Essex being the last to leave. Before he closed the door, he turned to smile at Suzette and was gratified to receive a wave in return, a gesture not lost on her mother.
‘Girls, you too should retire,’ she said.
‘Of course, mother,’ said Suzette and after kissing her on the cheek, both girls disappeared through a different door, leaving Owen Cadwallader and the Lady Elisabeth alone in the hall.
Elisabeth poured herself a goblet of wine and stared at her brother in law.
‘You cannot blame me for being worried, Owen,’ she said, ‘I fear I am not long for this world and my daughters have no male to guide them.’
‘Then consider my proposal,’ said Owen. ‘Gerald of Essex is a man of standing and a union between our families can only bring good.’
‘To whom?’ asked Elisabeth, ‘you or him?’
‘To both,’ said Owen. ‘A union of families will strengthen both names at court and will glean favour from Longshanks himself.’
‘Our allegiance has always lain with Llewellyn,’ said Elisabeth.
‘I know,’ said Owen, ‘but times are changing. Llewellyn is weak and but a Prince. Under Henry, England has become strong and grows annoyed at the Welsh Prince as a horse does with a fly. He was patient due to the treaty of Montgomery but now Henry is dead, the treaty holds no water and the houses of England and Wales manoeuvre to decide allegiances.’
‘Why would his son annul the treaty?’
‘Edward is an ambitious man, Elisabeth and such things are of trivial importance. Yes the ripping up of the treaty would be seen as an act of aggression but what could Llewellyn do about it? Declare war on England? I think not. Longshanks is of a single mind, the unification of all these lands and those who do not declare for him, sets themselves in the opposite camp.’
‘But our family is Welsh.’
‘There is a time for national pride, Elisabeth but this is not it. Our family name is at risk of being wiped out within years should we not align ourselves with the King. Your daughters could be sent to a convent to see out their lives in isolation or even worse, find themselves at the end of an English Pike should war arrive on our doorstep.’
‘But why this man, Owen? What made you choose a man of such dubious reputation?’
‘Gerald is young, Elisabeth and yes he has been known to fall short of the chivalric code but what man hasn’t? He will mature and I have no doubt become a fine man in time but the facts are these. His father has the court’s ear and marriage into their family will secure our place for as long as a Plantagenet occupies the throne.’
‘And my daughter’s happiness?’
‘I am sure she will be fine. Did you not see the way they laughed together this evening? They are obviously attracted and will make a fine couple.’
‘A skin deep attraction, no more,’ said Elisabeth. ‘Suzette knows little of men and is easily swayed. I fear she sees only the fair face, not his black heart.’
‘That is unfair,’ said Owen, his voice rising. ‘You have known him hours only and already cast doubt on his honour. If you were a man you would be obliged to settle the insult.’
‘But I am not a man, Owen. I am a dying mother with the best interests of her girls at heart. Allow me this one discretion for it is all I have.’
Owen paused and took a deep breath.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I forget myself and beg forgiveness.’
‘And what little Margaret,’ continued Elisabeth, ‘what will become of her?’
‘I will take her into my house,’ said Owen, ‘and see that she marries well. Your daughters will be well cared for, Elisabeth, I swear. All I ask is that you see the sense in this arrangement. I am sorry it has come to this but had my brother been here, I assure you he would see the eminent sense in this matter.’
‘And if I say no?’
‘I will be honest with you Elisabeth. I will wait for your death and as their protector will make the arrangements anyway. It means waiting a while but the result will be the same.’
‘I could have her married off elsewhere before I die.’
‘You have no time to find a suitor of adequate standing, Elisabeth and anyway, do you not wish them to marry into nobility?’
‘I just want them to be happy.’
‘She will find no happiness in being married beneath her station. She has been brought up in this noble family and knows no other way of life. Surely you want what is best for her?’
Elisabeth paused and stared at her wine. Finally she spoke again without taking her eyes from the goblet.
‘I have no choice in the matter, do I?’ she asked. ‘You have me cornered like a frightened deer.’
‘Elisabeth, I mean you no distress but the politics must be addressed. Trust me on this. The joining of our house with the house of Essex will forge a place in history for our family name. Your grandchildren will be seen around the courts of Kings and your memory blessed as a woman of vision. Do this for us, for your family but most importantly, for your daughters.’
Elisabeth looked up.
‘I have heard enough,’ she said. ‘Thank you for your concern Owen. I feel very weak and will now retire but you will have my answer on the morrow. Now, if you will excuse me.’
‘Of course,’ said Owen and stood up from his chair. ‘Sleep well, Lady Elisabeth.’
Elisabeth disappeared through the same door as her daughters and Owen Cadwallader sat back to finish the jug of wine. A few minutes later the door at the opposite end of the hall opened and Gerald of Essex entered, carrying his own flask of wine. He sat opposite Owen and stared at him with a
musement.
‘Well,’ said Gerald, ‘Did you make representation?’
‘I did.’
‘And how did it go?’
‘As well as can be expected,’ said Owen. ‘These things are delicate matters.’
‘I see no need for delicacy, Sir. These women now answer to you and as such, should bend to your decree.’
‘I accept this, Sir Gerald but they are still the family of my dead brother. I will respect Elisabeth’s doubts but worry not, she will see sense in my argument.’
‘Let’s hope she does,’ said Sir Gerald. ‘Having now cast eyes on the prize I find myself much more agreeable to the arrangement.’
‘I told you the Estate was impressive,’ said Owen, ‘and easily outweighs my debt to you.’
‘It is indeed an impressive place,’ said Gerald, ‘but I speak of the Lady Suzette. The quicker she warms my bed the better.’
‘She is still a child, Gerald. Harness your ardour and let these things take their course.’
‘I am not known as a man of patience, Cadwallader,’ said Gerald. ‘You of all people should know this.’
‘I am trying my best, Gerald. At least respect my brother’s memory and allow me to do this my way.’
‘Do it whatever way you wish, Sir Knight but I want this situation resolved within days. The addition of these lands to my estate will go a long way to repairing the relationship with my father and the thought of that pretty thing in my bed only sweetens the deal.’
‘Do not press me Gerald,’ growled Cadwallader. ‘It pains me enough to have to do this. At least have the courtesy of allowing me some saving grace.’
‘You should have thought of that before gambling away your fortune, Owen.’ He stood up. ‘Continue as you will, Sir Knight. You have until the end of this month and no more. Deliver your promise and all debts will be cancelled but fail and I will ensure every noble family in the country knows the extent of your disgrace and you will be hung as a brigand.’
‘I will deliver my debt, Gerald and after that I hope for your sake our paths never cross again.’
‘Brave words from a poor man,’ said Gerald. ‘I will leave you now with your thoughts.’ He walked across the hall but stopped before the far door and turned around. ‘I believe you are going up to the abbey in the morning to pay respects to your brother?’
‘I am.’
‘I will accompany you,’ said Gerald. ‘After all, he was a fellow Knight and we are a brotherhood, are we not?’
Before Owen could answer, Gerald left the room, slamming the door behind him. Owen threw his wine tankard across the hall to break against the door but despite his frustration, he knew he had no option but to do as Gerald demanded. His fate was in the other man’s hands and there was nothing he could do about it.
----
The following morning saw a group of riders approach the abbey through the morning mist. Owen Cadwallader led the group along with all his Knights. Elisabeth had been too weak to ride but her two daughters went in her place. Margaret rode alongside her uncle while Suzette rode alongside Gerald of Essex.
‘Your father was a great man, Suzette,’ said Gerald.
‘Thank you,’ said Suzette. ‘He was also very kind.’
‘I’m sure he was. His chivalry was well known and it is said Longshanks valued his alliance above all others.’
‘Once his word was given it was unbreakable,’ said Suzette, ‘and when he took the cross he swore allegiance to Longshanks for the duration of the Crusade. Alas, we will never see him again.’
‘Let his memory be your light, sweet lady. It can be a beacon for you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Suzette. ‘So what of you, Sir Knight. I hear you are making a name for yourself around the tournaments?’
‘Jousting is indeed my passion,’ said Gerald, ‘and I have won many a prize though I would give them all up for just one kiss from you.’
‘Sir Gerald,’ gasped Suzette in feigned shock. ‘You are very forward.’
‘I only speak the truth,’ said Gerald. ‘God frowns on falsehoods.’
‘He may do,’ said Suzette with a blush, ‘but I expect he also raises an eyebrow at such brazen nerve.’
‘Well I will beg forgiveness when we get to the abbey,’ laughed Gerald, ‘but until then, I will settle for a simple smile.’
‘A smile is something I will willingly share,’ said Suzette and followed up her comment with the prettiest smile he had ever seen.
‘Suzette, if I fall from this horse and end my days’ right now I will die a blessed man.’
‘Your words are like honey, Sir,’ laughed Suzette, ‘but I am well pleased.’
‘Then my life is complete,’ said Gerald but before Suzette could continue the conversation, the abbey loomed before them and the column clattered into the courtyard. Within ten minutes they had discarded their riding cloaks and entered accompanied by a dozen Monks carrying candles to illuminate the darkened interior. In the background hidden voices recited psalms as they walked up the nave to face the Abbot waiting before the Cross of Christ. All the travellers got to their knees and crossed themselves as Father Williams blessed them and said a prayer. Finally he stepped forward to greet them.
‘Suzette, Margaret, how lovely to see you again. How is your mother?’
‘She is as well as can be expected,’ Father,’ answered Suzette, ‘but sends her apologies. She hopes to be able to attend in a day or so.’
‘There is plenty of time,’ said Father Williams. ‘The good Lord places no deadlines on faith.’
‘Has father’s tomb been finished?’
‘It has had the relief added,’ said the Abbot, ‘and we will have a blessing ceremony as soon as your mother is well enough to attend. Are you ready to pay your respects?’
Suzette and Margaret nodded silently and followed the Abbot over to the family chapel. Owen Cadwallader joined them as the Abbot pulled aside the curtains. Margaret stifled a sob as she saw the magnificence of the carved Knight atop the stone tomb and both girls held onto their uncle’s arms as they approached the final resting place of their father. The Abbot withdrew quietly and closed the curtains for privacy. As he turned away he saw Gerald of Essex staring at him from the central Nave.
‘Sir Gerald,’ he said. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘And you, Father,’ said Gerald. ‘It seems our paths are destined to cross many times in this life.’
‘It seems so,’ said Father Williams, ‘and if I remember, the last time we met there was mutual beneficial outcome.’
‘Indeed there was,’ said Sir Gerald. He looked around the impressive abbey.
‘So this place is yours?’ he asked in admiration.
‘It is the house of God,’ said Father Williams, ‘and you would do well to remember that.’
‘Oh I know my place,’ said the Knight, ‘it just surprises me to see you in your alternate guise.’
‘My holy life and my personal life are two separate things,’ said Father Williams.
‘Is that normal for a Monk?’
‘Perhaps not but I will seek my own redemption at another time.’
Sir Gerald smirked.
‘You and I are men alike,’ he said, ‘and truth be told, I enjoyed our last business venture. Perhaps we can work together again sometime soon.’
‘Actually, now you come to mention it, there may be something you can do for me,’ said Father Williams.
‘And the benefit?’
‘Huge,’ said the Abbot.
‘Then I am intrigued. What conspiracy is swirling around that dark mind of yours?’
‘Not here,’ said Father Williams looking around. ‘Let the family see out this day and return after dark. I believe I have an offer you cannot refuse.’
‘Then how can I say nay? said Sir Gerald. ‘Perhaps you can arrange some refreshment.’
‘I will have wine and ale waiting as well as good food.’
‘And entertainment?’
; It was Father Williams’ turn to smirk.
‘You have the same appetites, I see.’
‘I am a young man with healthy needs, Father and if I recall, you were not averse to carnal pleasures the last time we met or have you forgotten that night in the tavern?’
‘A moment of weakness and the subject of much prayer since,’ laughed the Abbot. He paused before continuing. ‘Bring yourself back later, Gerald for I feel this meeting is most opportune.’
‘Until later,’ said the Knight and stepped past the Abbot to approach the Cadwallader family’s chapel, closely followed by the rest of the Knights.
----
Down in the valley Garyn and his wife were paying respects of their own in the village graveyard. Garyn leaned against a tree and watched as Elspeth placed a posy of holly on his family’s grave before joining him.
‘They would have been proud of you,’ she said quietly.
‘Really? I couldn’t save them from a killer’s knife.’
‘That wasn’t your fault, Garyn.’
‘I should have been there.’
‘If you had, then you too would be lying in that grave and I would be without a husband.’
‘Still, I miss them every day.’
‘And so you should,’ said Elspeth, ‘but use that emotion in a positive way. You have already done them proud by rebuilding the forge, now take that further and rebuild the family name. We will do it together, Garyn. You will become a successful blacksmith and I will give you many sons.’
‘And Geraint?’
‘He will make his own way, Garyn. When he returns I expect him to have purged his demons and settle down with Misha.’
‘If he returns,’ corrected Garyn.
‘That is in the hands of the Lord,’ said Elspeth. ‘Anyway, come on, those hares have hung long enough. You skin them and I will make a stew for tonight’s meal.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Garyn and after a quick backward glance at the grave, followed Elspeth out of the graveyard and back toward the forge. As they approached they saw Tom Thatcher leaving the house and disappearing up the path. Misha stood in the doorway watching him go.