Val could see what was going on, too. He reached out, grasping Vesper’s arm to give her a reassuring squeeze.
“I will make sure your brother is taken care of,” he said. “And I will deal with your father appropriately. For now, go over to where the horses are and wait there. I will speak with St. Lo about your escort.”
Before he could turn away, Vesper stopped him. “Val,” she said, fighting the lump in her throat. “Whatever happens, I want you to know how very grateful I am to you. You have shown me… you have helped me to understand what it means not to be lonely any longer. If for no other reason than that, I thank you for giving me that gift. It was the best blessing you could have ever given me.”
Val’s throat was rather tight, too. He smiled wanly. “Even better than the necklace?”
Vesper nodded, a single tear popping from her eye. “Even better.”
“Then I am glad.”
Vesper swallowed hard, struggling not to weep again, as Val headed over to McCloud and that horrific scene. She could see him talking to the red-haired sheriff of the town, pointing to McCloud before finally turning around to point at her.
Feeling far more settled about the situation than she had minutes earlier, Vesper turned for the horses, who were over in a corner of the square, tearing out the fat green grass and munching happily. Her satchel was tied to the white palfrey and she wandered over to the horse, standing by it as she’d been directed. But her gaze inevitably returned to Val as he ordered men about.
It made her heart swell simply to look at him. He was so strong and tall and proud, but every second she looked at him, she was reminded that he didn’t need to be associated with a family of murderers. Was she being a martyr in all of this, sacrificing her happiness so that Val’s reputation would remain clean? In truth, her intentions were altruistic. She firmly believed he would be better off without her association.
But the fact remained that she didn’t want to be without him. She’d risked much to keep his opinion of her intact and she’d almost lost that when he’d discovered the truth. But the man had an unnatural capacity for forgiveness, as she’d discovered.
Such a man deserved something far better than she could provide.
Soon enough, a wagon was brought around and Mat’s body was put into the bed for transport to the church. McCloud climbed in with his son and Vesper wondered if that would be the last she ever saw of her father as the wagon lumbered down the road, heading for St. Peter’s Church. Although Mat would not be buried in the church yard, the priests would ensure he had a proper burial outside of the walls.
Once McCloud and Mat had disappeared, Val continued to give what appeared to be instructions to St. Lo and his men. Men would dash away, obviously off to complete a task assigned to them by Val, while still others completely disbursed the crowd which, by now, had thinned out considerably.
Still, Vesper stood by the horses, ignoring the hunger she felt now that the evening meal was approaching, looking up to the sky to see that it was, in fact, a glorious sunset. How ironic, she thought. A beautiful sunset as if to signify a new future now that Mat, the Angel of Death, had finally been punished. Even God was celebrating her brother’s death. For the people of Bishop’s Waltham and the surrounding area, it was a new future, indeed.
Val eventually returned to Vesper with six men who had been assigned as her escort. They were older men, heavily armed, used to being paid for their protection and men that St. Lo trusted. So, Val instructed the six in the strongest possible language that they were to ensure that Lady Vesper reached Eynsford without incident. Vesper watched Val pay them all extremely well with the promise of more coinage when the job was complete. Wanting to please the Itinerant Justice of Hampshire, the men firmly agreed.
But night had fallen and they would not begin their travel at night, so Val took Vesper over to The Crown Inn, the oldest and best inn the village had to offer. He asked twice to remain with her, at least for sup, but she politely declined both times.
Heartsick, but understanding that she was trying to stick to their bargain when he was fully prepared to ignore it, Val paid the innkeeper for his finest room and a meal. He stood in the corridor while Vesper went inside her rented room and bolted the door. Only then did he feel comfortable enough to leave her there, although it was killing him.
He very much wanted to stay with her.
Dulled from the events of the day and thoroughly exhausted, Val quit the inn and went across the street to a livery where he had a birds-eye view of the inn and of Vesper’s chamber window. Although he could only see the faint glow of the taper, he was comforted by knowing she was behind the shutters. Even if she didn’t want him in the inn, near her, that didn’t mean he couldn’t watch out for her through the night.
And that was exactly what he did.
In a stall next to his war horse, Val spent the entire night watching Vesper’s window and the inn in general. No one went in or out without his knowledge. When dawn hinted over the eastern horizon, he saw Vesper and her six guards emerge from the inn and head to the livery to collect their horses. Val stayed out of sight while the escort gathered their beasts, helped Vesper mount her palfrey, and departed the city just as the sun began to rise in the east.
After that, Val left the livery astride his horse, leading the old war horse he’d loaned McCloud, and followed the escort at a good distance as far as the tiny settlement of West Meon where there was a fork in the road. As Vesper and her party continued east, Val headed north towards Selborne.
Once Vesper was out of his sight, Val realized, with a heavy heart, that he’d never felt so empty in his entire life.
He began to count the minutes until he would see her again.
Please, God… let me see her again!
CHAPTER TEN
Selborne Castle
“God’s Bones, Hugh. I’ve not seen you in ages. Where have you been?”
Hugh grinned at Margaretha de Nerra, a woman he genuinely liked. She was feisty and strong, everything a well-bred mother should be. But he had to admit that he felt sorry for Val sometimes the way his mother came down on him. But he was very patient with his mother and mostly taunted her in return, which had resulted in some truly hilarious conversations that Hugh had witnessed. Here at Selborne, he felt truly at home and truly in the presence of friends. He enjoyed it here.
But now, he was about to violate that trust.
“I have been with the king in France, Lady de Nerra,” he said, greeting the woman with a kiss to the hand. “We have only just returned. Henry is heading to Winchester, in fact, and plans to hunt through the new year. And you? How is it you become younger every time I see you?”
Margaretha cocked a dark eyebrow. “You have the silken tongue of a viper,” she said. “Do not flatter me. I shall beat the foolishness right out of you.”
Calum was standing beside his brother, as he had escorted the man from the gatehouse to the keep so Hugh could pay his respects to Lady de Nerra. Both he and Hugh laughed softly at Margaretha’s threat.
“It would be a pleasure to be beaten by such lovely hands, Lady de Nerra,” Hugh teased.
But Margaretha simply rolled her eyes. “I see you get your manners from my son, you beastly boy,” she said, mostly because that was how Val reacted to her threats. “Where have you been keeping yourself? Why have we not seen you?”
Hugh shrugged. “The king has kept me very busy,” he said. Then, he gestured to the group of knights by the gatehouse. “Being that it is the Christmas season, he has kept us busier than usual. We are on an errand for him, in fact. It is something I must speak with your son about. Is Val here?”
Margaretha shook her head. “He is not,” she replied. “But I expect him back shortly. Is it something I can help you with?”
“Nay, Lady de Nerra.”
“Then you shall enjoy the hospitality of Selborne until he returns.”
“Thank you, Lady de Nerra.”
Margaretha gestured tow
ards the keep. “Will you come inside and refresh yourself?”
Hugh shook his head. “You are most gracious, but I must speak with my brother first. Will you excuse us?”
Well aware when it was time to conduct business and that she was not wanted, Margaretha gathered her heavy silk skirts and headed for the steps to the keep. “Calum, bring your brother inside when you are finished,” she commanded. “And where is your wife?”
Calum turned to her. “She is lying down in our cottage,” he replied. “She has not felt well this morning.”
Margaretha shifted course. “Then I shall see to her,” she said, heading off across the bailey. “I shall see you both later.”
The men let her go, watching her as she headed to the western wall where the cottages of the married knights were situated. Calum waited until she was out of earshot before returning to his brother.
“What is amiss?” he asked, glancing at the gatehouse where the other knights were gathered. “FitzUrse? De Tracy? Le Breton? It must be something serious if those three are with you. What has happened?”
Hugh’s gaze lingered on his younger brother. “Is there someplace quiet that we may speak?”
That request did nothing to ease Calum’s curiosity. If anything, it was now joined by a measure of apprehension. “Aye,” he said. “Inside.”
He began to take the steps up to the keep and Hugh turned to his men, off by the gatehouse, and emitted a shrill whistle. When the three turned to look at him, he indicated for them to follow him with a big wave of his arm. When he could see the three men in motion, he followed Calum into the keep of Selborne.
The interior was dark and cool, smelling the same way most keeps did – of dust, of dirt. Sometimes, there was a snippet of smoke from the hearths, or even food. Sometimes, there was even incense if the owner liked to burn that kind of thing. But this keep smelled like any other.
Hugh had been inside Selborne many times before and he knew the layout. Entering into the lobby took one immediately into the small hall which, at this time of the morning, was full of servants sweeping floors and scrubbing the tables in the room. There was a doorway on one side of the hall that led to a corridor, built into the thickness of the wall, that led to a chamber that was used by Val as his private solar. It wasn’t a big room but it was comfortable. The room was packed with shelves that contained decrees and laws, all rolled up in yellowed vellum, plus a pile of maps, two cow hide rugs on the floor, and a big table that was pocked and marred from years of use.
There were also two big chairs with backs on them and a smattering of stools near the hearth. Hugh planted himself in one of the chairs before the others arrived and confiscated them. No one wanted to sit on stools. He watched his brother as the man bent over the hearth to light a fire.
“The weather seems to have grown cold suddenly,” Calum said casually as he struck the flint against stone. Sparks flew, igniting the kindling. “Did you see any frost on your ride here?”
Hugh shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “We left Winchester before dawn but we saw no frost.”
Calum blew on the fire to feed it. “So you’ve been at Winchester?” he asked. “We were just speaking of you only a day or so ago, wondering where you’d been. I thought you might have gone north to see to Father.”
Hugh watched his younger brother, knowing he was simply making conversation until the others arrived and the serious discussion began. Calum had always been so eager to please, something that made him a very good knight. He was noble and true, and obeyed without question, which made him perfect for the message that Hugh was about to deliver.
“Nay,” Hugh replied, leaning back against the chair. “I have not gone north but I have been planning to. However, Henry keeps me so busy that there hasn’t been the opportunity. I was fortunate that I was able to come to Selborne today.”
Boots were heard in the doorway as Reginald, William, and Richard entered, pulling off gloves and removing cloaks. Calum stood up from the hearth, brushing his hands off and summon a servant for food and wine. When the servant fled, Calum took the cloaks and hung them up by the hearth to both dry them off and warm them.
“Well,” he said with a grin, looking at the men in the chamber, “this is not a sight I expected today. I know you have come to see Val but I will do what I can for you. He should not be long.”
“Where is he?” Reginald asked, moving to warm his hands by the fire. “I thought he was chained to this place.”
Calum shook his head. “He is chained to Hampshire, but not Selborne,” he replied. “He leaves quite frequently to render justice throughout the shire. That is why they call him an itinerant justice. In case you do not know what that means, it requires him to travel.”
Reginald grinned, lopsided. “Now I remember why I do not like you,” he said. “You have your brother’s smart mouth.”
Calum laughed softly. “He learned everything he knows from me.”
“Now I really do not like you.”
Chuckles filled the chamber as William and Richard went to warm their hands, feeling the delicious warmth from the fire lick their flesh. Calum came away from the hearth when he saw the servant return with refreshments, taking the pitcher and cups from the man and setting them onto Val’s big table. Wine was poured, men were satisfied. When the servant left, Calum turned to the group.
“Now,” he said, his voice low. “Will you tell me why you have come? You did not leave Henry’s side and ride all the way to Selborne simply to drink my wine and warm yourself by my fire. What has happened?”
Reginald, William, and Richard looked at Hugh, who remained seated on the big chair. But Hugh’s gaze was on a pair of saddlebags that had been brought in. He stood up and went to the bags, unlacing one of them and pulling forth a faded yellow roll of vellum. It was tied with a red silk ribbon and he brought it over to his brother, handing it to the man. Calum accepted it, looking at his brother in puzzlement.
“What is this?” he asked.
Hugh was grim. “I already know what it says. You had better open it.”
Calum did. Unrolling the vellum, he was met with the perfectly scribed letters from the king’s clerk. At the bottom was the big red waxed seal of Henry II. Moving into better light, he began to read.
Most Wanted Notice
Upon this First Day in December, Anno Domino Eleven Hundred Seventy, Sir Valor de Nerra, Itinerant Justice of Hampshire with jurisdiction granted by the king for all of England, is hereby ordered to arrest Thomas à Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, for crimes against the king and his descendants. Failure to do so constitutes a refusal of the king’s wishes and a criminal action by the Itinerant Justice.
Becket is to be brought to Winchester Castle with all due haste to face the king’s good judgement.
Calum read it three times. He wasn’t the fastest reader, but he took particular time with this. The missive was signed at the bottom with Henry’s distinctive seal. To Calum, it looked official. When he was finished, he looked at his brother in shock.
“Is Henry serious?” he breathed. “He wants Val to arrest Canterbury?”
Hugh nodded calmly, but in truth, he was vastly relieved. The missive, forged by the same clerk Henry had clipped with a pewter cup when he’d first learned of L’Évêque’s excommunication, was done with great skill, exactly as the king would have done it, down to the signature of the monarch. Calum may not have been a fast reader but he had a good eye and he had seen Henry’s missives before, many times. If it was able to pass his scrutiny, then surely it would pass Val’s. At least, that was the hope.
“He does,” Hugh replied. “I do not know if you’ve yet heard, but Canterbury excommunicated York, London, and Salisbury for crowning Young Henry at the king’s request. As you know, Canterbury was out of the country when Henry had his son crowned. When Canterbury returned, he excommunicated the clergy who did it. This power struggle between the two of them has to stop, Calum. Henry has ordered Canterbury arrested.”
Calum was astonished. “My God,” he hissed. “So he will send Val to do it?”
“Val has been ordered to.”
Calum looked at the other knights; FitzUrse, le Breton, de Tracy… these were men deep in Henry’s inner circle, men who had served the king flawlessly for many years. The weight of the order began to push on Calum, so much so that he sought the nearest chair, sinking into it as he digested the contests of the missive.
“God’s Bones,” he finally hissed. “So it has come to this. All of these years of the king and the man who used to be his closest ally and it has come to this – the arrest of Becket. But why Val? Henry surrounds himself with hundreds of men of greater rank.”
“But Val is the law in Hampshire, which includes Winchester,” Hugh pointed out. “It is his duty to carry out the king’s arrest warrants when they are issued from Winchester Castle. As unsavory as this is, Val has no choice.”
Calum knew that. He looked back at the warrant, still in his hand, and sighed heavily. “The church’s anger will not be directed at Henry for this,” he muttered. “It will be directed at Val. It was very clever of the king to order another man to do his dirty work.”
Hugh was aware. He’d said the same thing, essentially, and therefore struggled against the guilt of it. It was he who was putting Val’s neck on the line in the name of justice, not Henry. But he still stuck to the belief that Henry had ordered this; all of the four of the knights still did – him, FitzUrse, le Breton, and de Tracy. They all were still under the firm belief that Henry had ordered Canterbury arrested. Therefore, he pushed aside the guilt.
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