Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01

by A Knight of Silence

  Fear surged through him as visions of Reina in danger flashed through his mind. “What news?” he breathed.

  “Sir Albin sent me, your lordship. The king has summoned her ladyship to London for an audience.”

  The last thing he expected to hear, it took a moment for Fulke to grasp the meaning of the words. “Did Sir Albin mention why her ladyship has been summoned?”

  “I regret he did not, your lordship.”

  Figuring how fast he could return to Castell Maen, he inquired, “When is she to depart?”

  “Her ladyship is already on her way to London, your lordship.”

  For the second time, Fulke was taken aback. “Zounds,” he swore. Henry must have sent an urgent summons. “My knights ride escort?”

  “Sir Albin and Sir Talan both, your lordship, along with four of the King’s men-at-arms,” he added.

  “Did you say four of Henry’s men?” Fulke asked in surprise. The implication had his heart pounding.

  “I saw them for myself when they rode through the village, your lordship. They wore the king’s own livery.”

  His mind focused on Henry’s intent, Fulke absently retrieved a small pouch of coins from his tunic. “You go with my thanks.”

  Catching the pouch, the man dipped his head. “Her ladyship has been very kind to me, your lordship. I pray that all goes well with you both.” Mounting, he rode off in the direction he had come.

  Just the thought of his innocent Reina at court alone, made Fulke’s blood run cold. He had no inkling how Henry had heard of his nuptials, but the features of a balding jovial priest crossed his mind.

  Calculating the time needed for the journey, he suddenly realized Reina would reach London a full day before him. “To me!” he roared in the menacing voice reserved for battle.

  The men working on the tower around Fulke fell silent. Straightening from their various tasks, a score of fearful eyes focused on him. Seeing his gaze directed elsewhere, they quickly returned to their labors.

  Heeding his call, Gervase came running with Guy on his heels. Passing through the stone archway with swords drawn, they searched for the threat.

  Guy surveyed the silent serfs surrounding them as he rushed to protect Fulke’s flank.

  Remaining behind Fulke to protect his back, Gervase stood alert, poised for a fight. Scanning the edgy workers, he grew puzzled when he could discern no visible danger.

  “Sheath your swords, the fight is not here.”

  To the whisk of steel sliding in scabbards, the pair sheathed their weapons. “What is it, my liege?” Gervase ventured, coming up beside Fulke.

  “Gather your gear, we make for London with all haste. If we ride hard, we should be a day behind our lady,” Fulke ground out, his thoughts wreaking havoc with his peace of mind.

  “Lady Reina has been summoned by the king?” Guy asked in surprise.

  “Aye, and I fully intend to be at her side when he meets with her.” He turned to Gervase. “Ride back to instruct the lads they are to remain in Rochester. You will have to follow the best you can.”

  “Aye, my liege,” Gervase dipped his head.

  “Warin need not know about the summons,” Fulke continued grimly. “There is no need to alarm him until we are privy to Henry’s intent.”

  “Aye, my liege,” Gervase repeated solemnly. Exchanging a troubled parting glance with Guy, he ran for the stables.

  Fulke gazed after Gervase, lost to his troubled thoughts.

  Shall I fetch the horses, my liege?” Guy prompted.

  Imagining how frightened Reina must be, Fulke glanced at Guy still standing beside him.

  “The horses, my liege. Shall I fetch the horses?”

  “Aye. Fetch the horses; I must speak to the master builder.” Snapping back into the moment, Fulke rushed off towards the main part of the castle.

  TEN

  Fearing what lay ahead, Reina was nevertheless relieved to see an end to their long journey. Prevented from coming to blows with the king’s men earlier in the day, Talan rode beside her, silent and brooding.

  She blamed herself for the earlier incident. If she had not been so curious about the men wearing the king’s royal livery, she never would have followed their conversation while resting the horses. Blushing from one of their cruder comments, she turned to find Talan staring at her.

  His mouth set in a grim line, he lunged past her to take the offender down by the throat.

  As the remaining three guards belatedly drew their swords, Albin pulled a struggling Talan away from the gasping man on the ground. “Ease up, Talan. They will kill you!”

  Yanking free from Albin’s grasp, he glared at the men, refusing to back down.

  Seeing the lethal swords of the guards directed at Talan, Reina stepped in front of him, her noble status forcing them to lower their weapons.

  Talan’s hand remained on the hilt of his sword, prepared to make a move. When he refused to look at her, she clutched his sleeve to draw his attention. “Words have never hurt me, Talan. Do not let them hurt you now, this I beg of you.”

  Breathing hard, he ground out, “They disrespected you, my lady.”

  “I take no offense, Talan. Please do not give them cause to hurt you.”

  Relaxing his hand, he replied, “As you wish, my lady.” Glaring at the men, he stalked off towards the horses.

  Her gaze resting on the guards, Reina noted their looks of astonishment at the one-sided conversation they had just witnessed. Quirking a single brow, she cast them a smug smile before strolling after Talan.

  Riding through the bustling lanes of London, the awful stench drew her back to the present. Even with the cold to dampen them, the pungent smells of the over-crowded city were close to unbearable.

  Young street urchins blended with lame beggars amidst the squalor and stink of open gutters. Begging for alms, nobles in costly raiment passed by them, uncaring and oblivious.

  Slowed by the congestion, the king’s men formed a line the width of the cobbled lane. Scurrying from the path of the imposing guard, the populace crammed themselves into doorways or under awnings.

  Following behind, with Talan and Albin flanking her, the nobles gawked at the woman important enough to require such a formidable escort. Feeling the heat of stares focused on her, color swept across Reina’s pale features. Gripping the reins with white knuckles, she kept her gaze on the back of the guard riding in front of her.

  As they passed a cross-section in the road, she spotted an elder blind man sitting beside an open sewer. His hands shielding his grizzled face from the stones pelted at him by a group of laughing young waifs. Furious at the callous display, she pulled back on the reins.

  Easing up beside her, Talan touched her sleeve. “Is aught amiss, my lady?”

  She glanced over at him with tears filling her eyes. “Please help me down, Talan.”

  Halting their horses, one of the guards called, “What is the meaning of this delay?”

  Reaching up for Reina’s waist, Talan glared at him. “Hold your tongue, or I shall lend assist in the matter.”

  Albin made light of the situation as the remainder of the guard swung their horses around. “You know how it is lads,” he called to the annoyed men. “I have never before known a woman to pass up an opportunity to spend coin.”

  Scowling in response, they once again formed a line the width of the lane, their eyes scanning the crowds for any sign of trouble.

  Relieved the guards would not stop her, Reina unbuckled her saddle-pack to retrieve the food she brought with her. Gripping her skirts, she carefully stepped around the piles of horse dung scattered along the lane.

  With a glare, she sent the waifs scurrying to find trouble elsewhere. Bending, she gently touched the elder’s sleeve before placing the bundle in his feeble arms.

  Before she could step back, he grabbed the hem of her kirtle, staining it with his grimy hands. “Who are you, lass?”

  Talan stepped up beside her. “Her Ladyship, the Baroness o
f Erlegh has gifted you with food this day.”

  Cradling the bundle protectively against his sunken chest, the man said brokenly, “God bless and keep you, your ladyship.”

  She bent to squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, before making her way back to her horse. Waiting for Talan’s assist, she boldly stared at each guard, daring them to say something.

  Once again seated, she reached for the reins and found Albin staring at her. Tilting her head in question, he nodded approvingly. “You are worthy of Fulke, my lady.”

  Replying with a sad smile, she spurred her horse forward.

  With no food left to offer, she averted her gaze from the endless spectacle of need surrounding her.

  As they neared the city center, the assailing odor threatened to engulf her. Covering her nose with the edge of her cloak, she prayed she would not embarrass herself by wretching.

  Noticing her pallor, Albin waved a hand to get her attention. “I fear the stench takes some getting used to, my lady. We are nearing Westminster Hall. The breeze coming off Thorney Island tends to make it more agreeable.”

  Hoping she would make it that far, Reina nodded weakly.

  To her great relief, the cold breeze from the river swept over them as the Hall slowly came into view. Breathing deeply of the bitter wind, she felt her stomach settle.

  She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat as she gazed in awe at the majestic building rising before her. In the center of cream-colored stone, tall spires framed an arched stained glass window. Scores of people mulled about the courtyard boasting some of the finest garments Reina had ever seen.

  Staring at the noble women in kirtles of every imaginable hue, she felt small and insignificant. Her heart began to pound in fear at the thought of having to face the derision of so many.

  If not for Talan and Albin’s reassuring smiles, she would not have had the will to continue.

  * * * *

  With no moon to guide them, Fulke angrily conceded they would have to stop for the night. Guy lit a fire as he paced in tight circles. Dropping to the frozen ground, he would stare into the flickering flames, before rising to pace once more.

  Gervase caught up to them some time past Matins. Dismounting, he acknowledged Fulke with a solemn nod. “I brought your court garb, my liege. Lecie also sent food, if you are hungry.”

  At Fulke’s absent nod, he settled himself beside Guy. Sharing a glance, the two best friends remained unusually silent.

  The first ray of the sun found them once again heading for London at a blistering pace.

  Fulke rode into the city alone, the longer strides of his powerful destrier having pulled away long before. Making his way through the teeming lanes he had at one time lost himself in, he opened his eyes to it.

  Blind beggars with rags covering their sightless eyes sat in gutters, blending with those missing hands from Henry’s justice. Vendors with carts loudly hawked their wares to nobles as they pompously strolled by storefronts displaying a variety of costly goods.

  No longer could he see what he had found so fascinating about the city. He yearned for the crisp, clean air of the country with Reina by his side, fearing he had ruined the one chance given him.

  Reaching the Hall’s stables, Fulke dismounted. Throwing his reins to a stable hand, he stormed through the archway of the grand entrance. Announcing his presence to a footman, he requested an immediate audience with the king.

  By the time the footman returned, he was pacing. "Please follow me, your lordship,” he intoned pompously.

  Led to a guest chamber, Fulke felt his chest tighten. The king was delaying his audience. Opening the door, the footman stepped back to allow Fulke to enter.

  Stepping in, Fulke whirled around. “When am I to be summoned for my audience?”

  “I am not privy to that information, your lordship,” the footman replied stiffly.

  “Are you privy to knowing where my wife is?” he asked harshly.

  “Her ladyship has been in private audience with the king for some time now.”

  His shrewd observation made Fulke want to throttle him. “Two knights arrived with the baroness. Send them to me at once.”

  Before the footman could reply, Fulke slammed the door in his face.

  Striding the length of the small chamber, it did not take long before Albin burst in with Talan hard on his heels.

  Fulke glanced at their anxious faces, stopping midstride. “Tell me everything.”

  Talan stood by the door as Albin scowled. “Henry has been with her for some time now, Fulke.” He pounded a fist into his open hand. “We both escorted the lady, intent to remain by her side. Henry swiftly commanded my withdrawal. Talan followed as soon as Henry discovered the lady could understand him without assist.”

  Surprised, Fulke turned to Talan. “You converse with the lady?”

  “Aye my liege.” Talan straightened. “Lady Reina and Hylda were kind enough to instruct me after your departure.”

  Fulke crossed to lay a hand on his shoulder. “I am glad of it, Talan. The lady needed something worthwhile to occupy her time.”

  Talan lowered his eyes. “I have failed her, my liege.”

  Fulke dropped his hand. “How so?”

  “I vowed I would not leave her side,” he clenched his hands. “She was frightened; I should not have left her.”

  Fulke felt disgusted, with himself. He fled while his loyal knight was willing to brave the wrath of a king on her behalf. “You broke no vow, Talan. My lady would not hold you to something at the risk of your life.”

  Talan glanced up with troubled eyes. “What would you have us do, my liege?”

  “For the moment, I fear there is nothing we can do”

  Throwing his travel-stained cloak on the silk coverlet, he took a seat by the fire. Running his hands through his hair, he ground his teeth in frustration. He was so close to Reina, yet he may as well be back in Rochester for all the good he was doing her.

  Albin spoke to Talan. “Your somber visage is not helping matters. Take a walk to summon food and drink. I have a feeling we are going to be here for some time.” He glanced at Fulke. “Make it a lot of drink, lad.”

  * * * *

  Hours later found Gervase and Guy crowding into the chamber to join the vigil.

  Fulke once again found himself pacing before the fire. With so many conflicting emotions waging within him, he could not sit still.

  Lost to his own musings, the men began to discuss possible reasons the king would require such a lengthy private audience with Reina. It was a comment from Gervase that snapped him to attention.

  “She is far too beautiful for the king to overlook,” he said matter-of-factly.

  The image of Reina in Henry’s arms wafted through Fulke’s mind. Enraged, he kicked over a stack of kindling with a curse.

  Mindful of where they were, Albin spoke low, “Be at ease Fulke. The king’s passion of late extends no further than the table.” He scowled at Talan. “I overheard the men-at-arms speaking amongst themselves on our journey. I would have discovered more had Talan not silenced them with his temper.”

  “What reason would Talan have to come to blows with the king’s men?” Fulke asked.

  Talan glowered at Albin as he replied, “It was naught so much what the men did. It was more a matter of thrashing out amongst themselves what they would like to have done. They were a bit too descriptive in discussing our lady's finer points.”

  Fulke glanced over at Talan. “I owe you a tally at the tavern, lad. You did no less than I would in your stead.”

  “Thank you, my liege. If you will excuse me, I have a need of some fresh air.”

  Frustrated, Fulke crossed to the window. Leaning on the sill, he stared at the crowds in the courtyard below.

  “No harm shall befall her, Fulke,” Albin said softly.

  “I do not fear her physical well-being,” he scoffed, turning to face Albin with a bleak stare. “What does it say about me, that I cannot stand the thought o
f her in another man’s arms?”

  “Do you think Lady Reina would willingly turn to Henry?” Albin asked incredulously.

  “I all but abandoned her,” Fulke replied bitterly. “I cannot very well lay blame at her feet were she to do so.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Albin called, “Lads, take a walk.”

  Hearing the click of the latch, he snapped, “You are a fool to even suggest such a thing, Fulke.”

  He shrugged, causing Albin to seize the front of his tunic. “I am weary of you trying to find reasons to turn from the lady.”

  “Turn from her?” he asked in surprise. “I can no more turn from her than I could live without breathing.”

  Releasing his grip, Albin looked confused. “What mean you?”

  “I have caused Reina nothing but heartache,” he replied softly. “Given the chance, what woman would not seize on a king’s attention?”

  Furious, Albin ground out, “If you believe for one moment she is capable of such, you do not deserve her.”

  Striding across the room, he slammed the door on his way out.

  * * * *

  Reina gazed out her window to the churning river below, her thoughts matching the bleak winter landscape. Her shoulder suddenly seized in a firm grip, she flinched away in fear. Whirling around, her eyes widened at the group of solemn women staring at her.

  Her arms crossed in front of her ample chest, the plump elder woman, rudely assessed Reina. Thin lips pursed in a tight line of disapproval, she motioned to a wood stool.

  Reina scanned the faces of the young women staring at her in silence. Greeted with cold indifference, she grasped her skirts to step up on the stool. As the head seamstress snapped curt instructions, she found herself being measured, poked and prodded by the younger women.

  Casting furtive glances at her flushed face, they began to murmur amongst themselves. Following their words, she shifted on the stool, drawing a frown of disapproval from the elder woman. Word had spread that Henry had a new favorite, an addle pate who could not hear or speak.