Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03

by A Knight of Valour

  Frederick slowed to study the approaching cart being pulled by a pair of sorrel coated mules. “It looks to be a lone priest.”

  “I shall let you do the talking, but be discreet.” Caine slowed his horse into a trot. “Priest or not, we cannot take any chances.”

  “Greetings!” Father Godfrey hailed the pair when they rode within shouting distance. Stopping the mules on the narrow dirt rutted track, he waited for their approach.

  The brothers stopped alongside the cart. Frederick dipped his head while Caine spoke. “Good day, Father.”

  “Good day, my sons.” Father Godfrey looked from one to the other. “Are you headed to the abbey? Archbishop Corbeil should have arrived by now.”

  “We did not know such a luminary would be in residence.” Caine shared a look of concern with Frederick. “There is like to be a large throng of believers waiting to greet him.”

  “I can attest to that,” Father Godfrey said. “Add to that the archbishop’s retinue, and the town will be fair to bursting. If you were looking to retain a spot at the inn, I fear you may not be successful, my sons.”

  “If that is the case,” Caine said, “I see no reason for us to stop there.”

  “Where is it you both hail from?” Father Godfrey inquired.

  “Rochester,” Caine said after a lengthy hesitation.

  “Rochester? I have many acquaintances there.” Father Godfrey beamed. “Your village priest is Father Bartolomeo, is he not?”

  “He is indeed.” Caine glanced over at his brother.

  “Ah, by the look on your face I would say you know him all too well.” Father Godfrey chuckled. “I myself know Father Bartholomeo to be surly at best.”

  Frederick’s dark brows shot up.

  “My outlook has that effect on most, my son. I may be a priest, a bold one at that, yet I assure you I am also human. Father Bartholomeo and our Cornish counterpart Father Farus tend to forget that fact. It is no wonder they get along so well. It tends to happen when one covets power and wealth over piousness and simplicity.”

  “No wonder,” Caine repeated. Clearly at a loss for words, he looked to his brother for help.

  “Have you happened to come across any other travelers on the road, Father?” Frederick asked.

  “Travelers?” Father Godfrey eyed them more closely. “Are you searching for someone?”

  “We were just wondering since you are the first person we have come across.”

  “Well, I best let you both get on your way then,” Father Godfrey said without answering the question. “I am headed to Hitchin near Dunstable on an important mission and have no time to tarry.” Raising the reins, Father Godfrey set the mules into motion. “Good day to you, God’s blessings upon you both.”

  “Thank you, Father.” The brothers replied in unison.

  They were over the nearest rise when Caine slowed his horse to a walk.

  Slowing ahead of him, Frederick reined his horse around. “What it is, Caine?”

  “Something the priest said.”

  “What did he say that has you looking so pensive?”

  “He said he was on his way to Hitchin near Dunstable.”

  “So?” Frederick shrugged.

  “Castell Maen is in Hitchin,” Caine said. “What if the priest’s mission is to deliver a message from Talan to Baron Erlegh?”

  “He was such a peculiar fellow I did not give what he said much thought. Do you think it very likely?”

  “It all seems like too much of a coincidence is all. The priest has acquaintances in Rochester, he is departing Reading a place we know Talan to have been, and headed for Hitchin near Dunstable, Sir Talan’s home.” Glancing back down the road, Caine seemed undecided. “He is a priest…”

  “Then let us take a chance on him.” Spurring his horse into a gallop, Frederick took off down the road the way they had come.

  Father Godfrey hauled back on the reins bringing the wagon to a rumbling stop. On guard now, he was not as amiable. “Did you need something further, my sons?”

  “Father,” Frederick said, “afore I say anything, I would ask that this conversation remain betwixt us.”

  “You wish to make a confession?” Father Godfrey appeared taken aback. “Here and now?”

  “Not exactly.” Frederick looked over at Caine.

  “We have something to ask you,” Caine said. “It is of the utmost importance to those closest to us. For that reason, we require your discretion.”

  “You have it.” Father Godfrey grew solemn. “What is it you would ask of me?”

  “Are you acquainted with Baron Fulke of Erlegh?”

  “I happen to be well acquainted with the baron.” Father Godfrey once again became guarded. “Does this matter of import concern him?”

  “It concerns one of his knights, Sir Talan,” Caine said. “Would you also happen to know him?”

  “Are you looking for Sir Talan?” Father Godfrey countered.

  “We are looking for Sir Talan, and our sister, Mylla,” Frederick said.

  Father’s Godfrey looked from one to the other, assessing the situation. “What do you intend to do to the couple if you happen to find them?”

  “Your cautious responses lead me to believe that you are aware of the situation, Father,” Frederick said. “We are on Talan and Mylla’s side and wish to escort them safely into Wales.”

  “Well why did you not say so from the start?” Father Godfrey relaxed.

  “So you have seen them, Father?”

  “Seen them, I officiated at their wedding,” Father Godfrey said proudly. “They were united yonder eve at Reading Abbey. Your brother Edmund stood witness.”

  “Edmund found them,” Frederick said with relief.

  “Father.” Caine seemed troubled. “Are you fully aware of the circumstances surrounding Sir Talan and my sister?”

  “Do you think that Talan would not have enlightened me to the situation?” Father Godfrey’s smile was sad. “All I did was right a wrong, my son. If my life is forfeit because of it, so be it. I live according to God’s law, not mans.”

  “You will be in the prayers of my family for your kindness,” Caine said. “Come what may, I know my parents will be relieved to hear that Mylla is wed.”

  “I cannot believe Talan would deem it safe to remain in Reading with the Archbishop in residence,” Frederick said. “Have they already departed the village, Father?”

  “They rode out after dawn this very morn,” Father Godfrey said. “They are on the road to Chertsey. If you ride with little rest, you will catch them. As for me, I carry a message to Baron Erlegh on their behalf.”

  “Baron Erlegh has departed Castell Maen,” Frederick said. “He and his knights are headed to the capital to petition the king on Talan’s behalf.”

  “That changes things up a bit, does it not?” Father Godfrey pondered the latest news. “You must waste no more time speaking with me.” Making the sign of the cross, Father Godfrey briefly closed his eyes. “God’s blessings go with you on your mission. I will continue my journey to Castell Maen. I take it her ladyship remains in residence?”

  “She does, along with Sir Albin’s lady wife. Sir Euric’s wife, Lady Bronwyn is also there. They are—”

  “Do you speak of Sir Euric and Lady Bronwyn from Cornwall?” Father Godfrey’s merry eyes lit up.

  “Aye, do you know them as well?”

  “Indeed, twas I who united them in holy matrimony. I heard word that she has been blessed with two children since last we met. It will be good to be among old friends again. Worry not I shall enlighten the ladies to the latest developments.” Clicking the reins, Father Godfrey set the cart in motion. “Get on now, Yseult and Tristram. We must make haste.”

  †

  “It does not look like the weather will let up,” Fulke called to be heard over the pouring rain. The hour was growing late and the men had grown silent in their misery. “If we make camp for the night, we should arrive in London around terce on the morrow.
”

  “I wager we all get very little sleep this sodden night,” Albin complained. “It has been some time since I slept outdoors.”

  “Do not tell me you have grown soft in your dotage?” Fulke teased with a grin.

  “Speak to me in the morn and I shall let you know.”

  “I like it no more than you,” Fulke said, “but we are expected to set an example for the younger men.”

  “The younglings know better than to expect such a thing from me.”

  “It is times like these that I miss being your liege.”

  “I bet you do.” Albin chuckled. “If it will make you feel better, order the lads about.”

  “Gervase, Guy,” Fulke called back to his men, “ride ahead and locate a suitable spot, a dry one if at all possible.”

  “Aye, my liege,” the two knights chorused.

  They had traveled over several rises by the time Albin spotted flickering firelight through a thick grove of trees. “It looks like the lads found us some dry ground.”

  “Did you doubt it? They do not want to sleep on the sodden earth any more than you do.”

  “Guy must have scouted the spot,” Albin said. “I doubt Gervase could locate a raging river if he were standing in its flow.”

  “There is more to Gervase than you give him credit for,” Fulke said. “One of these days he may surprise you.”

  “I would not lay a wager on it.”

  “That is probably for the best.” Fulke grinned. “If I recall correctly, you do not have a good history when it comes to wagers.”

  “I would not say I lost our last wager.” Albin shrugged. “I gained Lecie for a wife out of the deal.”

  “My point is that Gervase has proven himself time and again. I would ask that you give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I am willing to admit that Gervase is quite skilled with a sword, when he remembers which end to hold.”

  “Albin…”

  “Do you intend to strip me of all diversion, Fulke? Since Talan and I have become genial there is no one left for me to mock.”

  “While I am pleased you have come to an accord with Talan, why do you feel the need to mock any of the men?”

  “I cannot help myself,” Albin admitted. “Talan is easily baited, and Gervase makes himself an easy target.”

  “Are you sure your baiting has nothing to do with Gervase’s luck when it comes to women?”

  “Mayhap in the past jealousy may have played a wee part of it,” Albin said. “Since Lecie has come to possess my heart and soul, I would say it is more to allay the tedium whilst I am away from her and the children.”

  “Did you ever think Gervase acts the way he does because that is what we have come to expect of him?”

  “Very well, I concede,” Albin said. “I give you my word that I will try to lighten up on the… him.”

  Arriving near the campsite, they dismounted to lead their horses through the trees to a small clearing protected by a canopy of budding alder trees.

  “Well done, Lads,” Fulke said upon entering the semi-dry clearing.

  After tending to their horses, the men placed their saddles around the blazing fire. Settling down, they dined on bread, cheese, and smoke dried strips of pork.

  Stowing his leftovers in his pack, Gervase withdrew his small dagger. “Guy will you trim my hair?”

  “I am no lowly squire.” Guy looked offended. “See to your own hair.”

  “We are not going to the palace so you can seduce women,” Albin said from across the fire. “With any luck we will not be there long enough to even see any.”

  “That is no reason to look unkempt,” Gervase said. “We are knights representing our liege lord. We should be a credit to him at all times.”

  “Seems to me your reputation for womanizing at court has tainted us all,” Albin said. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “Do not lay that charge on me alone.” Gervase darted a look in Fulke’s direction. “The rumors existed long afore I added to them.”

  “Touché.” Fulke chuckled. “I have owned up to my less than savory past, Gervase.”

  “I meant no offense against you, my liege.” Gervase lowered his head.

  “Never mind Gervase’s ramblings,” Guy said. “It is his heart that has him speaking so, my liege. Despite her disinterest, he is still smitten with Lady Adorlee.”

  “She does not yet know me well enough to be disinterested,” Gervase said.

  “One does not have to be acquainted with you to have heard of your reputation,” Guy persisted. “Besides, you have been away from court for far too long. She is likely to be wed to some bloated noble by now.”

  “Who is Lady Adorlee?” Euric shifted position to see Gervase.

  “The only woman Gervase has ever failed to seduce,” Albin said.

  “Ahh, I see.” Euric nodded. “She presents an enticing challenge.”

  “That is not it at all.” Gervase cast an irritated look at Albin. “Lady Adorlee is unlike any woman I have ever met. If not for the spectre that follows her, I would no doubt already have an accord with her.”

  “What do you mean by the spectre that follows her?” Euric looked baffled.

  “It is what people call Lady Adorlee’s personal servant,” Gervase said. “Completely concealed in flowing black robes, she shadows my lady’s every move.”

  “Do not spread tales like a common gossipmonger, Gervase.” Fulke bent a stern look on his knight. “There is no doubt a logical explanation as to why the servant dresses in such a fashion.”

  “Aye, my liege.” Gervase averted his gaze. “Not to spread rumors, but I heard tell that the woman was horribly disfigured in a fire. Better to believe that than the other rumors swirling about her.”

  “Rumors are all bad in my opinion,” Leofrick said.

  “Not as bad as what Lady Josephina confided,” Gervase said. “She told me Lady Adorlee’s servant was stricken with The King’s Evil. It may be painless, yet the condition causes masses of unsightly sores on the body that often rupture. The only known cure is to be touched by the king. If it is true, the most likely reason Lady Adorlee has taken the poor woman under her roof is to help her obtain an audience with the king.”

  “Gervase,” Fulke said, “when will you learn that you cannot trust anything that comes out of the palace?”

  “Spreading rumors is all you are doing,” Guy said. “I overheard a reputable churl speaking of the poor woman the last we were at court. He said her face was disfigured by a vicious attack upon her person. The man claimed to have overheard a court physician describing the incident in some detail. The woman and her mother were sleeping in their manor house within sight of the palace when a madman broke in and attacked them. The mother lost her life while attempting to shield her daughter. It was the talk of the city at the time. They never did detain the attacker. After the daughter healed, Lady Adorlee’s father brought her into his household as an attendant to his wife. How she became Adorlee’s servant, I know not.”

  “Do you now see why I loathe gossip, Gervase?” Fulke caught his knight’s gaze. “It is naught but a grain of truth which blossoms into a forest of falsehoods.”

  “My apologies, my liege,” Gervase said.

  “Mayhap your lady has instructed her servant to act the mouse,” Leofrick suggested, “so as not to be overshadowed.”

  “It is not up to us to surmise,” Euric said.

  I would not call it surmising or gossip,” Guy said. “Most of us here are acquainted with women of the court. I for one know how vain they can be.”

  “You are wrong on Adorlee’s account,” Gervase snapped. “Whatever is wrong with the woman, my lady is the epitome of kindness to give the poor creature such an important position in her household.”

  “My, but you do seem familiar with the lady to call her by her given name. Are you sure you know her true character?” Propped on an elbow, Fulke tossed twigs into the crackling fire.

  “Why do you
ask?” Albin glanced over his shoulder at Fulke. “Are you acquainted with Gervase’s lady?”

  “I have heard her name mentioned in passing.”

  “Of course you have.” Albin chuckled. “Gervase spoke of little else since we escaped the palace.”

  “You escaped from the palace?” Confused, Leofrick looked from Albin to Fulke.

  “It is Albin’s lame attempt at humor,” Fulke said.

  “Banished, escaped.” Albin shrugged. “What is the difference?”

  “One retains your head upon your shoulders,” Fulke said. “I recall hearing the lady’s name from another source. Gervase, are you acquainted with her father?”

  “Aye, my liege,” Gervase said. “He encouraged my favor toward his daughter until the king… banished you. The next we met, he ordered me to stay away from his daughter.”

  “Her father sounds like a wise man.” Albin smothered his chuckle when Fulke flashed him a warning look.

  “Lady Adorlee’s father holds the position of master-marshal in King Henry’s domus, my liege.”

  Fulke sat up. “Lady Adorlee is the daughter of Paul de Bounauito?”

  “He is one and the same,” Gervase confirmed. “Do you think that speaks well of Lady Adorlee’s character?”

  “Never mind that now,” Fulke said. “Does her father still think well of you?”

  “It would appear that Fulke has come up with an idea,” Albin said, nudging Leofrick.

  “I have not seen him since he ordered me away from his daughter, my liege.” Gervase fidgeted anxiously. “I swear it.”

  Fulke relaxed back upon his saddle. “Guy, see to making Gervase look more presentable. He needs to present himself at court looking his best.”

  “My liege?” Guy looked offended.

  “Lady Adorlee’s father is responsible for Henry’s travel and accommodations,” Fulke said. “It would be to our benefit to be on his good side.”

  “Perhaps that is so,” Euric said. “Only by the sounds of it, the lady’s father does not seem to approve of Gervase. Would you risk offending him?”

  “You do not know our Gervase,” Fulke said proudly. “If anyone can change the man’s mind it would be he. Pressing his suit for the lady’s hand also gives him a perfect excuse to return to court with me.”