Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “That is because this has all come about in the past month or so. But I will tell you why this concerns me so – the House of de Lohr has one of the largest armies in England and certainly the largest on the Welsh Marches, and that army is dedicated to Richard. With most of that army in France, that will create an opportunity for John the likes of which he might not see ever again.”

  Garret was catching on quickly. “He will stage a move against his brother, then?” he asked. But there was some confusion there. “But he has been supporting his brother for the past two years. There has been no hint of rebellion from John.”

  Walter nodded faintly. “With John, rebellion is always a possibility,” he said. “Richard has called on his other great houses as well – de Russe, de Lara, de Royans. In fact, Juston de Royans is moving south from Yorkshire with his army, or so I have been told. They are all answering Richard’s call.”

  “And you believe John may take advantage of this?”

  “England will be drained of men loyal to the king. If you were John, what would you do? I fear the temptation will be too great.”

  Garret didn’t like the sound of any of that. In fact, he began shaking his head. “Does Richard not understand this?” he asked. “He is calling away all of his supporters. Those of us left behind will be the last line of defense between him and his ambitious brother if, in fact, John decides he is no longer an ally of Richard. He has switched loyalties before, too many times to count.”

  Walter nodded. “I know,” he said. “That is why I do not trust him. In fact, I have sent word to de Lohr and de Royans about this. I am asking them to leave at least one-third of their men behind. De Winter is already in France but he has left a few thousand men in and around Norfolk to maintain some control there. De Velt, too – they have control of Coventry and the surrounding area.”

  “What of Wellesbourne and de Reyne?”

  “They are moving men, but I understand less than half their respective armies. That means Wellesbourne will hold fast against Warwick and de Reyne has control of the Northumberland coast.”

  “What of de Wolfe?”

  Walter held up a finger. “Ah,” he said. “The heart of England shall be secured by de Wolfe. The Earl of Wolverhampton has already been in touch with me. He is sending a small amount of men, merging it with the de Lohr army. In truth, Garret, I do not believe it will be dire, but if John takes this opportunity, we must be ready to respond.”

  Garret was quickly coming to understand that. “My father’s castle of Rushmere holds around a thousand men,” he said. “Gaubert de Moray is loyal to the king to his very bones but I will have to ask my brother if our father is sending men to France. I have not had contact with my father in a few months so I do not know, but my brother might. He is my father’s heir, after all.”

  Walter was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Your father’s stronghold is near Wolverhampton, is it not?”

  “To the south, my lord, near the Welsh Marches.”

  Walter moved from rubbing his chin to scratching it. “Do not ask your brother anything, Garret,” he said quietly, dropping his hand from his face. “We have reason to believe that the Duke of Colchester is in support of the prince, which means your brother, as his knight, would be part of the rebellion.”

  Garret’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Rickard is loyal to Richard, my lord,” he said flatly. “He would not support the prince in any rebellion against the crown.”

  “He would if he was ordered to. He serves Colchester now.”

  Garret didn’t have a quick response to that, mostly because it was true. In fact, a sense of horror began to creep over him. “Colchester is in collusion with the prince?” he finally said. “How would you know this?”

  Walter could see that Garret was upset by the suggestion no matter how hard the man tried to pretend otherwise. “I have an army of spies, Garret,” he muttered. “You know this. Why do you think Colchester was at the prince’s party last night? The prince has been trying to convince the man to lend him his support. The bits of conversation that were heard between them last night seemed to allude to that. Your brother might not even be aware of it.”

  “Then I will ask him.”

  Walter held up a hand as if to ease the situation. “If you do, make no reference to what we suspect,” he said. “Until you can determine whose side your brother is on, tell him nothing. It could get back to his liege and then our element of surprise would be ruined.”

  Although he wasn’t intending to, Walter was essentially calling Rickard a traitor to the king. It was difficult for Garret to hear but he understood the situation, perhaps more clearly than most. He struggled to drink it all in.

  “Then there has been a good deal going on that you have not told me,” he said, leaning back against the table.

  Walter could see the shock on the man’s face. “There was no reason to tell you anything because you had enough on your mind as of late,” he said, “but given the situation, it is my belief that the prince and Colchester could possibly be in collusion to wrest power from Richard, and Richard is playing into their hands by demanding men from his supporters in England for his war in Normandy.”

  “Does Richard know this?”

  “It has been difficult to convince him of his brother’s intentions. John has been a strong supporter of Richard regaining Normandy and Richard holds true to that loyalty. It seems as if he is more than willing to forgive John for any past transgressions.”

  Garret sighed heavily. “If he does not heed your warning, then he may have to retake England from his brother by this time next year,” he said. “And all of these mercenaries and supporters here at Westminster must be purged immediately and the palace secured for Richard.”

  “My thoughts, exactly.”

  “The White Tower, too. We must secure all of Richard’s properties.”

  Walter rose from his chair, nodding his head wearily. “At least until we know what John is planning, if anything,” he said. Then, he looked to Zayin, who had been sitting quietly, listening to all that was said. “And you? What do you have to say to all of this?”

  Zayin had been digesting everything, much as Garret had been. Because the situation didn’t involve his family or his property, he had the uncanny ability to see both side of the situation clearly. Walter knew this, which was why he’d asked the man to remain. When Zayin looked up at the pair, realizing they were looking for his opinion, he shifted in his chair.

  “If you do not wish for the prince to discover that you are suspicious of him, then I would advise against making it known that you are shoring up Richard’s properties,” he said. “That would tell the prince that you do, indeed, suspect his motives. Although I agree that Westminster and the Tower must be secured, do it quietly. As if it is something normal, but be swift about it. Salibi, you must ask your brother what he knows. If he knows nothing, then you must ask him to discover what Colchester is up to. If you are truly suspicious that the prince and Colchester are allied against Richard, then your brother could provide proof either way. All of the spies in England could not get as close to Colchester as your brother can.”

  Garret knew it was sage advice but he hated putting his brother in the middle of it. “You are asking my brother to be a spy.”

  “It would be asking him to be an advocate for his king. The unfortunate truth is that Rickard may hold the key to everything.”

  He was right. Garret couldn’t even argue about it because it made the most sense. But he couldn’t stomach putting his brother in harm’s way. He looked at Zayin.

  “Colchester is the man who nearly murdered you in The Levant,” he muttered.

  That fact had been established long ago and Zayin simply nodded. “I realize that.”

  “This is Alfaar we are speaking of.”

  “I am well aware.”

  “What he tried to do to you, he could do to my brother if he discovered my brother is spying against him.”

  “Your brother
is a warrior. If he is truly a supporter of the king, then he will be willing to take the risk.”

  Garret had no more argument. He simply shook his head and turned away, trying to absorb everything. Walter watched him pace for a moment before turning his attention to Zayin.

  “Alfaar,” he repeated. “I have heard that name before.”

  Zayin was concerned about Garret and his reaction to all of this. He, too, watched Garret pace for a moment before answering Walter.

  “That is how Sir Garret and I came to know each other,” he said. “He saved me from an English knight who tried to assassinate me and make it seem as if the Templars were the ones who would have committed the murder. On the journey back to England from my home, we realized that Jago de Nantes had survived after trying to kill me because we saw him with the hordes of Christians making their way home. Colchester has never recognized Sir Garret as the man who saved me and, although he has seen me once or twice since our return those years ago, he has never recognized me as the man he tried to kill.”

  Now it was Walter’s turn to be surprised. “Then it is Colchester whom the men called Alfaar?”

  Zayin nodded. “It suits him.”

  “What does it mean?”

  “The Rat.”

  Walter grinned. “Ah, it does suit him,” he said. But he quickly sobered, turning to Garret, once more. “Garret, I know this is a great deal to digest, but it is important we form some plan of action where your brother is concerned. Zayin is correct; Rickard’s inside knowledge could be invaluable to our cause. It could make the difference between Richard holding the throne and losing it.”

  Garret has his back turned to them. “You cannot put the success of this entire endeavor on my brother’s shoulders,” he said. “That is a lot to ask of the man.”

  Walter made his way over to Garret, shuffling over the stone floor. He put a bony hand on Garret’s shoulder.

  “Rickard is a knight,” he said simply. “He has been trained to endure all the vocation involves, including discovering if his liege is a traitor to the king. Do you feel as if he would refuse to do this?”

  Garret hesitated a moment before shaking his head. “Nay,” he said. “He will do what needs to be done. I… I suppose I simply do not want to put him in that position.”

  “There is no one else.”

  Walter was right. God help him, Garret knew the man was right. The situation in England was growing critical and the politics right along with it, so they were all involved to a certain extent. Some more than most. And Rickard, who had been so proud of his appointment with Colchester might very well be putting that appointment in jeopardy.

  For the safety of England, he was going to have to go above and beyond.

  “Very well,” Garret finally said. “I will go and see my brother. I will speak with him and determine if he can be trusted in this matter. I cannot imagine his loyalties have changed to the prince even if Colchester has swung in that direction, but I will discover what I can.”

  Walter patted him on the shoulder. “Excellent,” he said. “I know this is difficult for you, Garret, but it is necessary. When you are finished speaking with him, come to me and tell me what you know.”

  Garret simply nodded. Walter patted him on the shoulder one last time before quitting the chamber, shuffling out into the morning that was already becoming heated and humid from the moisture of the river. When the man was gone and the door shut behind him, Zayin stood up from his chair.

  “Your brother is not a fool, Salibi,” he said quietly. “He will not put himself in any more danger than necessary. And his wife is carrying their child. He would never do anything to put his wife and child in danger. You must not worry so.”

  Garret knew that but he was still protective over his brother and what he was about to ask the man to do. “I know,” he said. “I suppose I should head over to The Wix this morning to see him. I did not have much opportunity to speak with him last night, so I can use that as my excuse to visit this morning.”

  He was already moving for the door and Zayin followed. “You can also see Lady Lyssa this morning,” he said casually, although he was watching Garret for a reaction. “You can see how she fares after hitting her head last night.”

  That brought back memories of the previous evening, some wonderful, some not so wonderful. Garret rolled his eyes as he put his hand on the door latch.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “She will probably want nothing to do with me after that debacle.”

  The corners of Zayin’s mouth twitched. “Then you do want her attention.”

  Garret’s head snapped to him, fully prepared to deny it, but he found he couldn’t. Now, thoughts of Rickard were shifting to thoughts of Lyssa and he was suddenly very eager to go to The Wix.

  “I shall not confirm or deny anything,” he said, shoving the door open into the sticky morning beyond.

  Zayin grinned. “She is a beautiful woman. You can confess your intentions if you wish.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Zayin laughed all the way to the armory.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Wix

  The Wix had a vast flower garden on the side facing the river, a beautiful spread that was carefully attended by several servants on a daily basis. The duchess loved to walk in her garden at least twice a day and she was very particular about her blooms, so the garden was tended to with the utmost precision.

  It was also a place where the duchess’ ladies would come and collect flowers that would at first sit in the duchess’ solar, in full bloom, only to be taken to the kitchens as they dried to be put into a variety of pomades made from suet. Daisies, carnations, calendula, violets, and roses were just a few of the many varieties that grew in the garden, all of them now blooming wildly after a particularly wet season.

  It was going to be a warm day. Lyssa knew that the moment she awoke next to Juliana. The window of the bower they shared overlooked the river and the breeze that was blowing in from the lancet window was already warm and sticky. After the evening she’d had, with too much drink and a knock on the skull, Lyssa’s head was throbbing uncomfortably as they lay there, feeling her stomach roll.

  It was going to be a long day.

  But it was also to be a day of reliving the memories from the night before. It gave her some pleasure in the midst of her discomfort. In fact, she wasn’t at all sure the evening wasn’t a dream until she touched the lump on her head to remind her that, in fact, none of it had been a dream. All of the wonder and excitement she’d felt had been real, as had the interest expressed by the knight every woman in England wanted – Garret de Moray.

  Oh, but surely it wasn’t true. Had she misunderstood him? Had he been drunk? She was still trying to find an explanation for what he’d said to her – God’s Bones, woman, do I have to make myself plain? I should like to call upon you. She heard those words a thousand times last night, rolled over and over in her mind, even after hitting her head and regaining consciousness as they were heading back to The Wix. Perhaps they were the only words she heard, cradled against Garret as they’d ridden the darkened streets of London. Garret had asked her how she felt, if she was seeing double, but all she could hear was I should like to call upon you. He probably thought she was an idiot, responding distractedly to him as she had.

  But she’d never heard more beautiful words in her entire life.

  Now, she was returned to The Wix and life was back to normal for the most part. Her magical night had ended but she knew that wouldn’t be the last she saw of Garret. At least, she prayed it wouldn’t be. She hoped he meant what he said, that it hadn’t been something he’d spoken of in the heat of the moment. Doubts plagued her, but that was normal with her. She still couldn’t understand how a man as fine and powerful as Garret de Moray would want to court her when no one else ever had.

  With thoughts of the black-eyed knight on her mind, she’d rolled over in bed and closed her eyes, dreaming of the man with the silver flecks in his dark
hair and eyes that were the color of obsidian. His voice was deep and soothing, a sound that made her heart flutter simply to think on it. But those warm dreams were quickly dashed with Juliana awoke and swatted her bedmate on the arse to make sure that she was awake, too. With a groan, Lyssa was forced out of bed.

  Because Lady de Nantes liked her women to smell sweetly and bathe regularly, maids brought warmed rosewater into the chamber and helped the ladies with their bathing and dressing. The Wix was overrun with serving women – mothers and daughters, and sometimes entire families served the Duke of Colchester. He had a massive entourage that he was able to maintain from the yearly stipend he received from the crown, so the ladies-in-waiting for the duchess had maids who also had maids. It was a hierarchy structure at The Wix, but Colchester wanted it that way so people would speak of how rich he was.

  Therefore, Lyssa and Juliana had a good deal of help as they bathed and dressed for the day. Rose came to visit when they were bathing and informed them that after they broke their fast, the duchess wished for them to go to the garden and harvest the violets that were growing like mad and threatening to overtake the rose bushes, which were also blooming in a riotous array of colors. They were then instructed to take the violets to the kitchen and help the cook process them into creams and salves, and also candied for garnish on food.

  It wasn’t an usual order. Instructions like that came down from the duchess consistently, so Lyssa thought nothing of it as the servants helped her dress in a long-sleeved garment that was made from linen. Undyed, it maintained its off-white color and was light enough to protect against the humid temperatures and scratchy thorns. The servants also pulled forth the wicker bonnets woven from water-reeds pulled straight from the river. In order to protect against the summer sun, the ladies would wear these wide-brimmed bonnets as they worked in the garden. Noble women did now allow themselves to become reddened from the sun.