To save England and keep her whole.
Even so, The Marshal’s visit had, thus far, been an unsettling one. Perhaps Preston had known that the loyalties of Banbury and Sudeley had always been in question, given that the men remained at Rodstone House and in London most of the year, and exposure to the king and his men was inevitable. No matter how much Preston tried to keep his loyalties ambiguous, any man who wasn’t a clear ally with the king was a potential rebel. But therein lay the problem – both Banbury and Sudeley knew Preston’s true loyalties. It would have been easy to divulge that to the king with the proper motivation.
And greed was a great motivational factor.
“I want to know who has told you such things,” Preston said after a moment. “I have listened to you speak on Banbury and Sudeley for nearly an hour, but you’ve yet to tell me how you know they are against me. Who has told you such things?”
William looked at the well-groomed earl as he formulated his reply. He’d spent almost three weeks debating about reaching out to Preston given what Cullen had told him the last time he’d seen the man. But after a meeting with the king wherein Preston de Lacy had been worked into the conversation, William had discovered much more about the two rogue knights than Cullen had suggested. Ultimately, William had decided that it was necessary to seek de Lacy out to tell him what was happening, for the man’s own protection.
In truth, he knew this information wasn’t going to sit well with Preston. There was a certain damage to one’s pride when one’s own men were turned against him. But William also knew that de Lacy was particularly paranoid, and for good reason.
His own men were out to kill him.
“Listen to me and listen well,” William said firmly. “I have tried to be tactful about the situation. I have tried to ease the information to you to save your pride, but I find I can no longer be tactful or gentle. De Lacy, you have a problem and you must know of it or you will not live to see the end of the year.”
“But –”
William interrupted. “Is it fair to say that I have been entrenched in the politics of England for many years?”
“That is fair.”
“And is it fair to say I have seen my share of betrayal? Think carefully before you reply. I have served three kings – a father and two sons, all of whom, at one time or another, have turned on each other. Well?”
Preston eyed him unhappily. “Aye,” he said reluctantly, moving to the pitcher of wine to pour William more. “You have seen more than your share of betrayal.”
“Then I have no reason to lie to you. And my instincts are excellent.”
“I would not dispute either of those statements.”
William nodded sharply. “Good,” he said, taking a gulp of his wine before continuing. “Now, if you want to stay alive, listen carefully to me.”
“I am listening.”
William waited until the man sat in the chair opposite him before continuing. “Cullen de Nerra was the first person to tell me that he believed Banbury and Sudeley to be secretly loyal to John,” he said. “This happened after the incident with Lady Barklestone, God rest her soul. Cullen came to me and…”
Preston cut him off. “What do you mean God rest her soul?” he demanded. “Has something happened to her?”
William looked at him with confusion. “You did not know that she is dead?”
Preston’s eyes widened. “Dead?” he hissed. “Who told you this?”
William could see that the man was genuinely shocked. “Cullen did,” he said. “He told me that Banbury told him the lady had died in an accident whilst in the custody of the king’s men. Did… did you not know this?”
Preston shook his head. “Nay,” he breathed. “They… Hamilton and Godfrey… they never told me that. In fact, they have been telling me since that terrible day that they have been pleading with the king to release Lady Barklestone, but to no avail. Now… now you are telling me that she is dead?”
William nodded. “According to what they told Cullen, she is,” he said. Frustrated, he held out a hand to the man. “Focus, man. We will discuss your wife at another time because I do not wish to get sidetracked. Cullen came to me after the incident with Lady Barklestone and told me that he believed that Banbury and Sudeley were in league with the king. In fact, it was Banbury who brought Lady Barklestone to the king when the king saw her in Westminster Hall. And although Cullen should not have done what he did by bursting in on the king, it is Banbury’s fault that Cullen had to do it. Cullen was protecting your wife and he is now a wanted man. He has had to flee London and I do not know if he shall ever return. But, I digress… we were speaking of two vipers within your household. Not of Cullen’s escape.”
Information on Cullen had Preston’s interest. “Then Cullen did survive,” he said. “After the incident with the king, all Hamilton and Godfrey could tell me was that Cullen could not be found. All I knew was that he did not return to me, so I did not know what had become of him.”
“He came to me,” William said, his manner softening somewhat. “You recall that he served me for many years before you won him in that fateful game. He came to me to tell me he was leaving London, running from the king. And he told me that Banbury and Sudeley are loyal to the king. It is only a matter of time before they kill you, de Lacy. I am sure John will reward them greatly, and Sudeley most of all.”
Preston eyed him fearfully. “Why Sudeley?”
William’s face washed with a knowing expression. “It is worse than you could imagine,” he said. “It is no secret that I serve John. But above all, I serve England. The good of England is always my priority. But two days ago, I visited the king on state business and saw both Banbury and Sudeley leaving his chamber just as I arrived. When I casually mentioned their presence, John confessed to me that he had paid them well to spy on you and, in particular, he was eager to tell me that Godfrey Sudeley has a secret.”
“What secret?”
“He is your bastard brother and he covets the Barklestone earldom for himself.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Preston was astonished. His eyes flew open wide, as did his mouth. In gaping shock, he faced William.
“What’s this you say?” he hissed. “Godfrey is… he is my… what?”
“Brother,” William repeated steadily. “De Lacy, it is no secret that your father had a wandering eye when it came to women. I am old enough to have known Hugh de Lacy when I was younger and he was an older man, respected, but with secrets of his own. One of them was a bastard son he’d had with a servant woman, a child he’d sent off to the House of Sudeley for them to assume as a son of their own. But, somehow, Godfrey found out about his parentage and he is using it as a bargaining point with the king. Or, should I say, the king is using it as a bargaining point with him. Sudeley will do whatever John wants, including eliminating you. Sudeley’s reward? Assuming the Barklestone earldom.”
Preston stared at him, unable to shake the utter shock he was feeling. “Is this true?” he gasped. “Really true?”
William nodded. “The king told me this in confidence,” he said. “Therefore, I say unto you – we have had our differences, de Lacy, but if you are removed from Barklestone, it will revert to John, who will gift it to your bastard brother – and the man will do anything for him. I will admit that, initially, I suspected John wanted your earldom to gift to any number of his French favorites, but that is not the case. The truth is that he will gift it to a bastard who is loyal to the king, but something tells me that Sudeley would not be the earl for very long. He brings nothing with him – no great alliances, no strengths. John could easily rid himself of Godfrey and still gift the earldom to a great Savoyard ally who brings much more to John’s forces. Sudeley will merely be a means to an end, and when he ceases to serve a purpose, he will be eliminated.”
Preston was filled with horror; a true, tangible horror. He sat there a moment, stroking at his beard as he rolled the information over in his mind, st
ruggling to come to terms with it. The nearly-empty pitcher of wine was next to him and he drank from the neck, draining it, as if that ruby red liquid could help him face what he must.
The king wanted him dead, and the poison to accomplish it had been planted very close to him.
“You and I are not great allies,” he finally said to William. “Why would you tell me this?”
William drained the last of his cup and set it to the fine cherrywood table next to him. “Because as much as an unpredictable man you tend to be, you are still loyal to England as a whole,” he said. “I do not want to see another French snake in command of a great English army, and that is exactly what will happen if you are gone. In this, I am willing to help you, de Lacy, but you must do as I say or we shall both be in trouble. Is that clear?”
Preston would have normally refused any idea to be under the control of another man but, in this case, he knew he was in great danger. He had no choice but to trust William.
“What would you have me do, then?” he asked.
William stood up, wandering over to the big lancet windows that overlooked the bailey of Rodstone House. The bright morning had turned to clouds, and it was starting to rain now, creating muddy soup down below as soldiers and servants went about their business.
“Are Banbury and Sudeley here at Rodstone?” he asked.
Preston nodded. “I believe so.”
“Send for them.”
“Why?”
William turned away from the window. “Because you are going to tell them something,” he said. “You are going to tell them that you have it on good authority that the king is moving north, to Yorkshire, and word has been sent out to the rebel barons in the area to attack the king’s convoy. Tell them to prepare the men to move north because of it.”
Preston’s eyebrows lifted. “And then what?”
William headed back in his direction. “When one or both of them leaves Rodstone House to tell the king of your plans, it will confirm to you that they are traitors.”
It was a simple plan, but an effective one. Preston was so muddled by all of the information he’d been given in the last few minutes that it was difficult for him to absorb one more element, one more scheme. But he did so, shaking off whatever shock he was still feeling. In order to save his own life, he had to. He began to nod his head, unsteadily.
“Aye,” he said. “It will. But is it true? Is John really moving north?”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “At least, not at the moment, but that could change. In any case, Sudeley and Banbury will not make it to John because I will be waiting for them before they can reach Westminster.”
“Will you arrest them?”
William shook his head slowly. “Nay,” he replied without a hint of regret. “I will kill them. And you will be in my debt.”
He meant every word of it, but Preston didn’t argue. He was simply glad that the man was willing to help him in this very dangerous situation. It was all so distressing and he wasn’t very good at keeping his emotions in check, feeling targeted and persecuted, and now under the thumb of William Marshal.
But he didn’t have much choice.
“For your assistance, I am indebted to you,” he agreed, humbled. “You have my gratitude.”
“And your army.”
Preston hesitated. “And my army,” he said. “But only for you. I will not send it to serve the king, in any capacity.”
“I should not ask you to. But if England needs your army, then you will send it without hesitation.”
“Agreed.”
“And I will be moving some of my troops to Quellargate Castle. It is too strategic not to be reinforced.”
Preston could only nod, having a feeling he’d made a deal with the devil at that point. William Marshal was, indeed, a devil to some, now taking possession of the Barklestone properties. He’d gotten what he’d wanted; a stable earldom. Preston had gotten what he wanted in William’s protection.
The deal was struck.
Distressed, Preston called for a servant, sending the man for more wine and also telling him to send Hamilton and Godfrey to him. When the servant was gone, William moved for the same door, a servant’s entrance that led to stairs that would take him out through the kitchens.
“I purposely kept out of sight when I arrived,” he said to Preston. “I do not want Banbury or Sudeley to know I have been here. Is that clear? Tell them only what I told you to tell them, and my men and I will be waiting for them when they leave Rodstone House. Do not mention anything else we have spoken of, de Lacy, or they will suspect we are wise to them. If you want to live a long and healthy life, say nothing more. Is that in any way unclear?”
William must have read his mind because Preston did, indeed, want to interrogate Hamilton and Godfrey about their loyalties. But he also knew that William was correct. If he did question them, it would tip the men off, and there was no knowing what would happen in that case.
“It is clear,” he said. “But I am ashamed. Two knights who would betray me, and another one who has left me. There is no one I can trust any longer.”
William was at the door, opening it. “You can trust me,” he said. “We do not have to like each other, but you can trust me. I must keep you as head of the Barklestone earldom or risk having to deal with a Savoyard favorite. That is a fate worse than death.”
With that, he disappeared down the servant’s stairwell, leaving Preston alone to his thoughts. Turbulent, terrible, depressing thoughts.
The Marshal had told him so much he didn’t know, perhaps so much he didn’t want to know. His men were against him, Cullen was on the run, and Lady Barklestone was apparently dead and Hamilton and Godfrey had been lying to him about it the entire time. But why? He very much wanted to know why.
And then, there was the little matter of Godfrey Sudeley’s parentage…
A bastard brother.
Preston was the first one to admit that his father had been something of a hound. The man had seven legitimate children, five girls and two boys, and at least three illegitimate daughters that Preston knew of, and now adding one more bastard to that mix wasn’t a surprise in hindsight.
But this particular bastard was male.
If Godfrey had told him of their familial relationship from the outset, that wouldn’t have changed things. Preston wouldn’t have cared about the family ties and he still would have used the man for every revolting purpose he’d ever imposed on him. Preston had wanted young men to pleasure him whilst in London, and Godfrey had seen to it.
It was simply the dynamics between them.
But it was a surprise that Godfrey had evidently been coveting the Barklestone earldom for himself because Godfrey had never come across as particularly ambitious. He was weak and malleable, and was far more of a follower than a leader. Clearly, this was the case because he’d evidently been easily swayed by the king’s promises.
As Preston stood next to the lancet windows and watched the rain fall, he thought on the turn his life had taken that afternoon. So much had happened in a short amount of time and he was still trying to take it all in. He wondered if he ever really would. But one thing was for certain; he had to do what William told him to do if he had any chance of saving his own life.
He wasn’t about to let a bastard brother get the better of him… or his earldom.
When Hamilton and Godfrey finally showed up in his solar nearly a half-hour later, Preston’s mind was a bit steadier and he was able to relay the fake plans of the king’s movements north as if it were the truth. He sounded convincing. He sounded even more convincing when he told the pair to muster the army and prepare for the movement north, as they were going to catch the king on the road and make short work of him.
All the while, he kept watching Hamilton and Godfrey for any hint of resistance or subversion, but he didn’t see any, which made him wonder if The Marshal had been correct in his information, after all. To Preston, his knights weren’
t behaving any differently. They took their orders and quit the solar, heading to presumably carry them out.
But the trap had been set.
Preston didn’t monitor their movements after that. He simply sat in his solar and drank, waiting for news, drinking until the sun eventually set and his supper was brought to him. By that time, he was fairly drunk, and he would rather drink than eat. The food turned stone-cold and, still, he drank. That went on until nearly midnight when the servant’s entrance to the solar opened and more than one man entered.
It was dark in the chamber but for the fire in the hearth, so Preston could only see dark figures moving toward him. He was so drunk that it didn’t occur to him to be frightened; he simply watched as they approached. The first face he saw was William Marshal, but he didn’t recognize the second one – a truly massive knight with dark blue eyes and a square jaw, a man who tossed first one broadsword down on the hot stones of the hearth and then a second. As Preston stared at the swords, he realized that they belonged to Hamilton Banbury and Godfrey Sudeley.
And they were both covered in blood.
That was when he knew the truth. The traitors had met their ends at the hands of William Marshal and his stable of elite knights.
Thankful for his very life but terrified for the future, Preston continued to drink before promptly passing out just before dawn.
PART THREE
FURES VINDICEM (CHAMPION OF THIEVES)
CHAPTER TWENTY
She was ill.
Cullen had heard Regal cough throughout the night, an increasingly wet cough. By morning, she was pasty-pale and had a fever.
The morning had dawned misty and cold, with water dripping from the canopy and onto the ground. In fact, Cullen was very wet and the cloak Regal had wrapped up in was also quite wet, but the oiled cloth of the cloak had managed to keep most of the moisture off of her. Still, the damage was done. The weeks of traveling the open road in bad weather most of the time was now starting to take its toll on the old woman as she struggled with every breath she took.
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 24