Dozens of dark spiral curls covered her mons, and he could not keep his fingers from them. Her shyness delighted him, and he touched her over and over again in intimate places, just to watch the blushes come and go in her cheeks. Then he tasted her everywhere and watched her lashes sweep down onto her cheeks in shy disbelief. When he began to remove his own garments, however, he saw that she lifted her lashes and stared at him in fascination.
He had been six foot four when he was fourteen. Now, however, he was broad as well as tall, and Eleanora's eyes shone with admiration as she gazed at his wide shoulders and heavily muscled chest covered by golden hair. She was fascinated by the contrast in their coloring, as a naked Edward once again drew her body to touch his. He was fair-skinned and his torso was gilded by body hair. Eleanora's skin was dusky and shone like satin. She made no protest when he lifted her to the bed and lay down beside her.
She felt both bold and shy as she reached out to touch his golden beard, then trace the outline of his beautiful mouth with her fingertips. She laughed when he playfully pretended to bite her fingers, and
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happiness welled up inside her. Was this golden god, who would someday be king, really her husband? Indeed he is, she told herself, for he has wed me twice over!
Edward was completely enthralled by his adorable bride. Her innocence was the most precious gift he had ever received. Her beauty, her speech, her laughter, her daintiness, and her fragrance fascinated him. In fact, he was enchanted by everything about her. Edward made a silent vow to cherish her, to be faithful to her, and to protect her with his life. He could not wait to give her his child. She was everything a mother should be: sweet, gentle, kind, loving, and intelligent. She must be a gift from the gods! he thought.
When he began to arouse her, he touched her as if she were made of delicate porcelain. He had never felt so tenderhearted in all his life. Suddenly, Edward was all the things he had never been before: patient, gentle, tender, and above all, selfless. He was such a large man that he knew he would cause her pain when he tore her hymen, but he promised himself he would make up for it with the loving he would lavish upon her.
And love her he did. All night long.
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One by one, young men of influence in the country began to visit Edward at Windsor. The first to arrive was Warren de Bassingbourne, followed by the Marcher barons, Mortimer and Clifford. When, following the burial of his brother, Harry of Almaine returned to command his men, Rodger de Leyburn knew that if their ranks swelled further, it would be noticed by the opposition.
"More men are committing to our cause every day, Edward. You must choose a location farther afield than Windsor, where we can mobilize in secret."
"Aye, I've been thinking on it. Since it was the warlord who taught me all that I know of military strategy, I shall take a page from Simon's book and gather my army at Oxford, as he always does."
Rod nodded. "All roads lead from Oxford; it is a good choice in my opinion. We must not wait too long; at some point we must stop recruiting and take armed action."
"I know, my friend. Speed and fury win the day, but Mortimer says that Hay and Montgomery will be here shortly. Send a messenger to intercept them and have them wait at Oxford."
"I'll send Griffin; he rode in last night on Rosamond's palfrey, Nimbus. Poor devil, I half expected him to be wearing a gown, since I left him at Kenilworth naked!"
"Rod, you were there not long ago, do you think we could take Kenilworth Castle?" Edward wanted to hear the honest truth.
"No, because it's surrounded by water and only accessible over the causeway. I doubt we could take it without a long siege, and we don't have time to waste in sieges, but if we are determined enough, I think we might be able to take Northampton."
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Edward turned his attention upon his royal cousin, Harry of Almaine. "Do you think there is any chance of talking your friend Gilbert of Gloucester into changing sides?"
Harry shook his head. "Gilbert is Simon's man forever."
"Forever is a long time, Harry. Well, I am going to try my hand at persuading John de Warenne, the young Earl of Surrey, to defect from Simon de Montfort and join us. I believe he is an ambitious young man who won't be able to resist my fatal charm."
Rod nodded his agreement. "If you can get John to commit to us, his brother, Lincoln de Warenne, will no doubt follow."
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Griffin stood before Rosamond with a worried expression on his face. "My lady, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my transgression against you."
"Was Sir Rickard de Burgh harmed in any way?"
"Nay, my lady, de Burgh is too formidable a warrior to fear aught from me."
"I will never understand why you follow de Leyburn's orders with such blind devotion, Griffin," she said dryly, "but I am learning to endure what cannot be cured. Thank you for bringing Nimbus safely home to me."
Griffin hesitated and looked even more worried.
"What is it? Is aught amiss with her?" Rosamond demanded.
"Not amiss exactly, my lady. But I took especial care with her because she is with foal."
Rosamond was stunned. "How on earth did that happen?"
Griffin flushed. "The usual way, I imagine, my lady."
Rosamond went immediately to Windsor's stables to check on her beloved palfrey. Every stall in the vast building housed a warhorse, and suddenly she felt afraid. When she found Nimbus and ran her hand lightly over her belly, Rosamond's heart sank. Indeed her beautiful little mare was in foal. She damned the male of every species for their impregnating proclivities. What made matters worse was the fact that as she looked around the stables, she saw that Lord Edward and her husband were preparing for war.
That evening she waited for Rodger to tell her about their immi-
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nent plans, but to her chagrin he said nothing. It was from Lord Edward himself that Rosamond learned they were leaving on the morrow. When she took Chirk to the garden, Edward approached her.
"Rosamond, I will be forever in your debt if you will watch over Eleanora for me while we are away on this campaign. She thinks me quite invincible, which is most flattering, but she has no idea of the very real danger we will be in, and the last thing I want to do is frighten her."
"She has become my dear friend; we will be good company for each other when you are gone, my lord."
"You are strong and have so much courage, Rosamond. Nora is far too gentle, sweet, and trusting for her own good, but I would not change her, in anyway."
Rosamond's brows drew together anxiously. "Lord Edward, you must promise me that you will return, for I would never be able to console Eleanora if aught happened to you."
He squared his shoulders and told her what she wished to hear. "I promise I shall return."
No sooner did Rosamond arrive back at her own chambers than Rodger came in and began to pack his things. Still clutching Chirk, she turned accusing eyes upon her husband. "You are going tomorrow, perhaps into battle, yet you have not said one word about it to me!"
"I didn't want you running to the enemy again the moment my back was turned, so I kept silent."
"I suppose I deserve that." She searched his face anxiously. "My God, Rodger, what if you don't return?"
His brows went up in mock surprise. "Chérie, could it possibly be that you are beginning to love me a little?"
"Nay!" she said quickly—too quickly. "I need you. Whatever will I do when Chirk has her puppies?"
Rod began to laugh, then he stopped as he realized how afraid of birth Rosamond was. "Chirk will be all right, sweetheart." He patted the Welsh terrier and set her down on the rug. "Giving birth is part of nature's course. I cannot be here, but you will be with her, and if she gets into trouble, you will do the right thing."
"But Chirk isn't the only one who is pregnant!" She wanted to tell him about her baby, but found that she could not. "Nimbus is in foal,
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and it frightens me that she might die It frightens me that you might die."
Rod took her in his arms and kissed her brow. "Death is part of life, Rosamond, but you mustn't let the fear of it stop you from living. I know you have lost loved ones, but you must let go of yesterday, and you must accept that you cannot control tomorrow. All we have is today . . . tonight."
She gazed up at him, seeing his jet black hair and brilliant green eyes, whose intensity always startled her. His strong jaw was darkly shadowed by the day's growth of beard, yet he had never looked more handsome to her than he did tonight. "Take me to bed and make love to me, Rod."
His mouth curved with irony. "You really do expect me to die."
"No, Mother of God, don't say that!"
"Thenyou do love me?" he pressed.
"Nay!" she denied, "I could not bear the guilt if aught happened to you... everyone I love dies!"
"Stop it!" He swung her into his arms and carried her to their bed. "You'll love me, by God, every way a woman can love a man, and when I return you will love me all over again."
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On the third day of April, the royal army that Edward had gathered moved north from Oxford, past the Chiltern hills, heading to Northampton. His men covered the thirty-five miles in just over one day, which was miraculous. He ordered his soldiers to attack the city of Northampton immediately, knowing surprise and speed were his greatest allies.
Edward had no experience of fatigue himself, but his dust-covered men-at-arms were dog-tired after their long trek, and the baronial forces easily repulsed them. The prince was sitting morosely in his war tent that night, when Rodger entered accompanied by a prior.
"Here is an ardent royalist, Edward. His monastery of St. Andrew was built at the corner of the wall by the north gate, and the monks have a tunnel leading under the wall into Northampton."
By dawn, Prince Edward and his forces were pouring into the
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streets. Young Simon de Montfort and his cousin Peter, who garrisoned Northampton, fought valiantly to hold them back, but were captured, and soon after, Northampton Castle surrendered. King Henry, still safely in the Tower of London, placed his mercenaries in the command of his brother, Richard of Cornwall, and they now pillaged the country from Northampton up to Simon de Montfort's city of Leicester, razing manor houses and burning villages.
Edward did not linger; he knew he must follow up his victory without delay. The young barons and Marcher lords who had joined Edward were in a triumphant mood and marched south, capturing the town of Winchelsea. The next town was Tonbridge, where Gilbert of Gloucester's Tonbridge Castle was located. Alyce de Clare ordered the guards to throw open the gates to Edward, and for appearances' sake he had to take her prisoner. Naturally, the unpalatable job of guarding her fell to Rodger de Leyburn, for he was the only one who knew of Alyce and Edward's adulterous affair.
That night, Alyce used a douche of alum to tighten her woman's sheath. Since Edward had developed a taste for virgins, she used the trick her French mother had taught her. When she emerged from her bedchamber into the adjoining chamber, arrayed in a diaphanous robe, she announced dramatically, "I am ready."
"Ready for what? " Rod asked blankly, though he knew full well she was expecting him to take her to Edward's chamber.
"You bastard, how dare you try to keep me from him!"
"I am only obeying orders, Alyce."
Alyce laughed. "Then let me help you change your mind, my beautiful Rod." She drew close and put her arms around his neck; standing on tiptoe, she still could not reach his mouth with hers. She felt piqued that he did not dip his head to taste her mouth, and rubbed her slim body against his, urging him to intimacy.
Rod felt disgust rise up in him as he looked down at the woman who had betrayed her husband so blatantly. He could not keep the contempt from his voice. "You are most tempting, Alyce, but I do not need to eat the crumbs that fall from the royal table."
She drew back her hand and slapped him full in the face. "That
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bitch you married has you on a short leash. Let me warn you that it is most unwise to make an enemy of me ... I know things about you, Rodger de Leyburn!"
"I happen to love my wife, Alyce, but that is a concept you wouldn't understand. You hate your husband enough to poison him— perhaps Gloucester drank wine that was meant for Gilbert? We could all tell terrible tales, Alyce, if we were fool enough."
Alyce de Clare, Countess of Gloucester, was sent to reside with the queen for safekeeping. Though she dwelled in luxury, she found the queen's household held as much excitement as a graveyard under snow. She blamed Rodger de Leyburn for keeping her from Lord Edward's side and swore to bring him down, along with Rosamond Marshal, his blond bitch of a wife.
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Edward Plantagenet's strategy was sound. He knew that whoever was master of Sussex and Kent, ruled England. If the royalists controlled the country south of London, they could keep open the route for forces from France that King Henry and Queen Eleanor had recruited. Earl Simon's baronial party still controlled the Cinque Ports, so Edward's army held the country behind them and would attempt to take them over one by one.
Simon de Montfort's army was now out in full force. The main road from the coast to the capital went from Dover to Canterbury, then Rochester to London. The baronial soldiers had taken the town of Rochester and were now savagely attacking its castle. When King Henry learned the barons had taken Rochester, he fled London to join his son in the south. Edward's army took the road that went from Hastings to Lewes, then they would go north to London.
Simon de Montfort did not have enough men to guard both roads, so when his scouts told him the royal army was marching to London by the western route, he abandoned the siege of Rochester Castle and moved his men to Fletching, nine miles from Lewes. There he concealed his soldiers near the weald and waited like a wolf in its lair.
Edward Plantagenet took his army to Lewes, where he and his knights were housed in a castle belonging to John de Warenne. His own spies had told him that his royal army was larger than the baronial army,
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and his abundant energy, barely held in check, made him eager for battle. It was May 13, a month and ten days since his fighting force had left Oxford.
Under cover of darkness, Simon de Montfort moved his men beneath a four-hundred-foot ridge of the Downs, just north of Lewes. The great warlord wore a plain surcoat over his chain mail, and the barons wore the white cross of the Crusades on their backs as a symbol of the justice of their cause. There were two roads that led up the escarpment; one was a steep incline leading up between the peaks of Black Cap and Mount Harry. The other road was longer, but rose more gradually and wound around Mount Harry. Simon's foot soldiers and archers scrambled up the steeper incline, while the mounted knights and heavily armored troops took the latter.
Simon de Montfort was risking all to gain a foothold on the Downs and engage the royal army before they could be joined by their foreign mercenaries, who had scattered when he took control of London. When his army reached the top, dawn was streaking the gray sky red, and he and the knights in his vanguard saw they had a clear downward path to Lewes.
The royal army was only just awakening, and Simon de Montfort's arrival was a total surprise. Edward Plantagenet, Harry of Almaine, and Rodger de Leyburn were in the saddle in minutes, marshaling their knights and men-at-arms with furious energy. By some miracle, Edward had his troops in battle array before the baronial army was within striking distance.
Edward's father, King Henry, was adamant that he should command the center. Both Edward and Richard of Cornwall tried to dissuade him, but Henry insisted upon his kingly rights. Prince Edward, filled with explosive energy and a savage will to fight, knew in his bones it would be better if he took full command. Reluctantly bowing to his father's wishes, however, Edward led the right wing, and Richard led the left, leaving the center to Henry.
Simon de Montfort had given command of his center to none other than the new Earl of Gloucester, fiery Gilbert de Clare. His right flank was commanded by his two sons, Henry and Simon de Montfort, and on the left were knights commanding bands of soldiers from the city
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of London. Simon himself commanded a large troop of mounted reserves, waiting on the highest ground to attack any weak link that appeared in the royal army's chain.
Edward Plantagenet, filled with zeal and impatience, charged the enemy's London men-at-arms, who were streaming down the eastern ridge. Rodger de Leyburn, in the forefront with his mounted knights, gave a brief thought to the sixteen-year-olds on both sides, who would find themselves fighting a war for the first time. He well remembered that first shock of finding himself in the midst of a battle where he had committed himself to die or to kill those about him. Then there was no more time for thought, only for action, as the killing began.
They charged up the ridge in a deafening clatter of hooves, clash of weapons, and wild battle cries. The enemy's mounted knights and foot soldiers were no match for the onslaught of Edward's troops. They began to retreat back over the crest of the escarpment, and Edward's men followed in furious pursuit. They chased the enemy for four miles and systematically annihilated it.
Simon de Montfort could do nothing to aid his left flank, but when Edward's army disappeared over the crest, the earl saw a golden opportunity to ride down the slope and attack the king's center with all the strength he commanded. The battle swayed back and forth amid bloody swords, maces, and battle-axes. The dead fell under the hooves of the warhorses, while the wounded lay screaming and unheeded. Richard of Cornwall's line buckled beneath the hammer blows of the barons, and the king's brother was taken prisoner. Then the center broke, and King Henry retreated to the Priory of Lewes, where he took refuge.
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