The Blue Falcon
Page 28
Morning brought Conan from his private hold looking haggard and worn, but his eyes were of that clear and determined blue that his opponents saw in a contest of arms or battles. Udele found her son in the dining hall moments after he had arrived. Clearly her task at hand was to show Conan she would never fail him.
“Prepare Lady Edwina’s body,” he told a serving woman. “I will take her home to lie near her mother.”
“Then I will prepare to ride with you--” Udele started.
“Madam! For the love of Christ! You are not needed at Phalen Castle! Take yourself and your train of servants to my father and bring this sad news to him!”
He turned on his heel and left the hall, the brisk morning air rushing in as he opened the heavy door, catching the soft, light fabric of Udele’s gown and causing it to billow. I must hasten, she thought. I must take myself to Anselm quickly. He will come to me when Edwina is buried and have need of my comfort. He will soon see there is no other more able.
Before the sun was very high in the sky, Udele and Edythe, with horsed men and many servants, were on the road to Anselm.
***
In the cold of January, when the ground was more like rock than soil and the wind threatened to rip a man’s skin from his face, a place was rent in the merciless earth for the body of Lady Edwina de Corbney of Phalen, Stoddard and Anselm. A slow tear touched Medwin’s cheek, but that was all the pain he allowed to show. On one side of him stood Sir Conan, and on the other side was Lady Chandra, her husband next to her.
Later, in the quiet of the hall, those same four sat around the lord’s table, and with a saddened and quiet mien they partook of an evening meal. Tedric, while cautiously quiet, was the only one who could find his appetite.
“You have delivered the tithe now without beggaring this estate,” Conan said to Medwin. “Thanks to Tedric.”
“You need not fear for Phalen now, son,” Medwin said wearily.
“I do not fear. I know that the money was necessary for you to exist. Should other problems with money arise, I would have you approach my father. I have allowed a substantial sum for emergencies.”
Tedric looked up from his food and glared at Conan. Conan returned the stare.
“I am to inherit this land, this keep,” Conan continued. “It is not necessary to rely on any other for the help you need.”
“You do not trust me even now,” Tedric said. “You are advising Medwin to take nothing from me!”
Conan looked at Tedric closely. “Nay, Tedric, I do not trust you. And I do not want you to help Medwin with any matter concerning my estate.”
Tedric’s jaw twitched in muted anger and Chandra seemed to withdraw slightly in apprehension. Even Medwin was uneasy with the fact that these two men were forced to share a table after the event of Edwina’s death.
“My lord,” Conan went on. “I ask only one thing of you. In times of trouble, seek out my father or Galen. Either would work hard and honestly to preserve this estate for me.”
Chandra sat a bit straighter in her chair and a look of surprise came over her face.
“And why would I call on them when you are heir to all this?”
“Because I leave shortly to join Richard. I will go to war.”
“Now?” Medwin choked. “Now, when so much rests on your management?”
“Aye, now. My father grows old, but he commands a strong army still. And Stoddard has benefited from my labors and is a fit place for Galen to learn his duties. As for Phalen, your army is not weak and you can hold this hall. Should that prove difficult, my father and brother will support you.”
“But ‘tis your presence in England that gives me peace of mind!”
“My presence?” Conan asked with a raised brow. “Nobles who once praised my skills call me coward now. And my strong arm here is abused. While I am anxious to serve, I have found myself used as an errand boy for two aging lords, and a lame bird to be mocked before my fellow knights. I could not leave England while Edwina was heavy with child; but she is gone, God rest her soul. And I have a matter to settle with myself--lest I come to doubt my own worth.”
Medwin raised his tired eyes to Conan and nodded. “There is nothing here for you now, is there, son?”
Conan looked at Chandra, then Tedric. He returned his gaze to Medwin. “I do not take the concerns of my inheritance lightly, my lord, but wealth has never been of supreme importance to me. There is much I cherish here, I cannot deny that. But what is worth holding will keep faithful until my return.”
Chandra raised crystalline blue eyes to meet his. A faint and almost imperceptible smile touched her lips. Conan felt the comfort of her support. Any love that was true would not vanish with his leaving. Love would wait faithfully--as would battles to be fought.
Medwin sighed and rose. “My youth is not so long past that I cannot remember the stirrings of a young man. I hope you find what you seek.”
“I would take your blessings into battle, my lord, rather than your reluctance to see me go.”
The old man moved to Conan’s side of the table and dropped an arm about his shoulders. “I cannot give you men, but there are some things you might take with you. Come and look at the leather goods kept with the horses. Those who will pledge to ride with you will have need of sturdy stuff.”
The two walked together to the rear of the keep. Chandra looked down at her hands and felt the tears collect in her eyes, but she did not dare let Tedric see. She longed to wish Conan well, to promise her prayers.
Tedric gave a short laugh and looked at her. “Your hero is leaving you.”
Chandra stiffened. “Does this not finally convince you that he has no great longing for me?”
Tedric laughed outright. “Do not let your pain at his parting show, ma cherie. He goes now because there is nothing he can do to have you. But Conan is never long without a plan. Perhaps he thinks that riches and fame won in war will allow him a better chance at wresting you away from me when he returns--if he returns.”
“Your jealousy and greed eat at you, Tedric. He does not need to return to battle you: you will meet your own end through all this evil--”
He grasped her arm tightly, and she was stilled and forced to look into his steely gray eyes. “There is no one here to protect you, cherie,” he said slowly. “Have a care with your words.”
***
Galen rode swiftly to meet his brother at an inn in Canterbury, following the message from his brother allowing for his rather premature release from the service of Sir Boswell. He walked with a proud gait, his head held high. He was certainly a de Corbney. Conan saw him enter the common room and look about. As Conan approached him, Galen gave a sign of greeting and then fell to one knee before his brother. Conan’s hand on his shoulder and a gentle but firm command bade him rise.
“You are young, Galen. Not yet five and ten. But you are strong. Sir Boswell speaks well of your talents.”
Galen smiled in embarrassed pride.
“You are too young to be knighted,” Conan said.
“If I work hard I will gain that honor by eighteen.” And then more quietly he added, “As you did.”
Conan laughed lightly. “But we have not the time. Are you prepared to pledge your fealty to Richard our king, myself and our father?”
His mouth slightly agape, Galen could do nothing but nod the affirmative.
“You will shortly take my place at Stoddard Keep until such a time as a proper castellan can be installed there. As for Lord Alaric, you must serve Anselm at his whim. In good time, Sir Medwin may have need of you: I have asked him to seek out you or our father in times of crisis, for that land is mine. You see, Galen, you must continue to learn as you rule. It will not be an easy task, but one I believe you capable of.”
“Conan, who will follow me?”
“Any man who loves or fears me. The first you will find easily. The latter will find you.”
“Is the need so great that I am called home to give you aid?”
Galen’s eyes grew wide. He would protect these lands for Conan. Or die trying.
Before the Archbishop of Canterbury, Galen was knighted, one of the youngest ever. Then Conan made his pledge and oath to the Cross. Before leaving for Anselm, Conan discarded his faithful colors and donned the gray of the Crusaders, with the white cross covering his chest.
The total number of men-at-arms serving Anselm and Stoddard together totaled about three hundred. Of these, Conan would take twenty of the strongest and most willing, along with horses and the instruments of their profession.
The banner that was raised as the small party reached the gates of Anselm Keep was not that of the Blue Falcon, but of the Cross. The gates were opened immediately, for the soldiers of the Cross would always be admitted. Lord Alaric and Lady Udele stood in the courtyard ready to greet the Crusaders.
As Conan and Galen dismounted at a fair distance from their parents, a slow smile formed on Alaric’s face. He stood tall and easy as the men approached, one wearing the red and blue of Anselm and the other wearing the Cross.
Udele’s eyes widened and she slowly shook her head in silent denial. He was to stay in England, ready to take on the lands of nobles and landholders who did not survive the war! Now, without a sickly wife to hold him back, he would finally be able to pursue the acquisition of lands! Her lips formed a silent no. The color drained from her face as a new thought came to her: if he did not survive the Crusade, there would be nothing! Nothing! Before her husband noticed or her sons reached her, she fell to the ground in a faint.
Eight men already selected from the guard at Stoddard Keep arrived as prearranged with horses and gear to travel with Conan to Vezelay. Twelve of Anselm’s finest prepared for the journey as well, offering Conan his troop of twenty sound knights. All was in readiness within two weeks’ time.
In the short time that it took Conan to prepare to leave, Udele began to look her years. She would not bid her son a decent farewell and refused to give her blessings to a war that would not promise profit and risked death.
“Do not be concerned,” Alaric told his son. “She fears for you as any mother would and will be praying for your safety before the sun sets on this day.”
“Edwina, God rest her, would have yielded to my leaving with more grace than madam shows,” Conan said.
“And it was Edwina’s passing that made your decision final?” Alaric asked.
“The pain of her death was greater than I could ever have foreseen,” Conan said softly. “And she died knowing that my name was despoiled before my kind--before my king. For her devotion I must reclaim my good name. I cannot hold what is mine when no credence is given to my honor or strength. When I am returned I will finish what business I have left undone.”
Tired blue eyes crinkled at the corners in an affectionate smile. “You have found the man you must serve with the greatest loyalty,” Alaric said. “You have found yourself.” Alaric grasped Conan’s upper arms. “Go with God! Return victorious!”
Part III
Chapter 16
The rains washed away the memory of winter, but for those who had suffered more privation than ever before, the easing of the weather with spring did not heighten their hopes. The energetic smiles that had once greeted those who entered the small hamlet of Cordell were gone, and now the village looked as many others, its citizens moving through their chores and duties without much pleasure or satisfaction. Sir Tedric had proved to be a leader bereft of compassion and decency. During the cold winter, he had collected a heavy tax to pay the scutage that freed him from service in the Crusade, and had hoarded the winter supply of food, yielding nothing to make the villeins more comfortable. His discipline was swift and harsh and his guards were as cruel as he was.
Chandra felt her strength begin to slip away many times, but she mustered her reserves and attempted to show courage if only for the sake of her people. Everywhere she looked she saw evidence of Tedric’s selfishness. Her people were left wanting and frightened. While she could not undo the trouble her husband had caused, she did what she could to encourage them all to endure and wait for a better day.
As she leaned over the small pond in the Cordell gardens, she looked at her face. She had not lived so very many years, and the bruise from her husband’s hand in one of his recent rages was healed, but her face had changed. Etched in the fine, delicate features, she could see the passing of her sister, the slow deterioration of her father as he learned of her miseries, and the slow destruction of the home she loved and cherished. And more closely, in the deep blue eyes, she could see the sad memory of sending a lover off to war. She turned away from what she saw. Her beauty was not marred, but what emotional wounds lay beneath the flawless skin would take a long time to heal.
“Lady,” Wynne said softly.
Chandra looked up to find the maid standing near, twisting her hands and looking down. Chandra stood and lifted her chin with a finger, looking into the innocent brown eyes. “Raise your eyes, Wynne, and straighten your back. Of all, you are least responsible for what has befallen you.”
“It will take time, lady,” she said softly.
“You have your dignity as long as you cling to it. Remember that.”
“Aye, lady,” she murmured, her eyes lowering, a habit for her now.
“Wynne,” Chandra insisted, “do not face me with your shame. I too feel shame, for I was unable to protect you. Had I sent you far from here the moment I suspected Tedric’s lust, I could have spared you.”
“I do not blame you, lady. You could not have done more.”
“He is gone now?” Chandra asked.
“Aye. He has only just left.”
“Did he take many of his men?”
“A goodly number. More than I would have guessed. A dozen, perhaps.”
“We have that much to be thankful for. With so many of his brothers gone to war, Theodoric has need of him more often. And there is always hope that his father will see his wicked ways--”
“He does not go to Theodoric,” Wynne said. “I heard him tell one of his riders that the message was not from his father.”
Chandra looked perplexed. “Do you know where he has gone?”
“Nay, he did not say while I was near enough to hear. Lady--” Wynne started softly, unsure.
“Hold up your head, Wynne. You must be strong. Someday you will have your revenge.”
“I do not seek revenge,” she said timidly, tears smarting in her eyes.
“Do not fear him, Wynne,” Chandra ordered. “If he sees your fear he will take pleasure in frightening you.”
“I do not fear him, lady. I fear God.”
Chandra laughed lightly and stroked the girl’s arm. “Even God would not condemn you for hating him, lass.”
Brown eyes bright with tears looked into caring blue. “Even if I carry his child?”
Chandra’s shock was evident. But she should have expected this much. That Tedric had robbed the lass of her virginity weighed heavily enough on her mind: she had not even considered a child. The fact that she had not come with child herself as a result of their intimate encounters, however infrequent, had removed that worry from her mind.
She reached out and touched the hand that hung limp at Wynne’s side. She smiled kindly. “If there is a child, in spite of the sire, he will be only as good as his mother’s love. Do not despair,” she said, smiling even though this news brought pain to her heart. “Do not despair now, while there is a child growing within you. Now you must be strong and proud--if you wish your child to be.”
Wynne looked into Chandra’s eyes. “My father, lady. I fear his anger once this is known.”
Chandra sighed. “I stayed his vengeance once; I will try to do so once more.”
In the afternoon of that very day, Chandra donned her mantle and covered her golden locks with the snood. She left the warmth of the hall and made her way into the village streets. More men than usual were visible during this time of year. Cordell’s protective scheme was at a disadvantage during the winter months when the foliage in the forest was meager, but during the cold months the men stayed mostly in their homes. Now, while the rain drenched the wood and new leaves began to show, there were many in the village to help with the planting. Soon, as the protection of the new foliage concealed those in the wood, only those unable to act as guard would till the land. The able-bodied men would go into the forest.
Women were seen kneeling in the dirt to tend the tiny seedlings carefully. Whereas through the winter months the animals shared the shelters with their owners, now the children drove the animals farther out to their pastures. Monks from the neighboring monasteries began bringing their carts into the town again, offering to trade or sell their religious relics, carvings, animals and homegrown vegetables for things they needed. Their appearance brought the villagers into the streets to hear what news would be brought from neighboring cities and towns.
Wynne’s father, William, was not really a knight--not in the true sense of the word. He was spoken of as Master William around Tedric and the other guard, but the people who knew he led the forest guard respectfully prefaced his given name with “Sir.” He had earned at least that much, Chandra thought ruefully.
William’s dwelling could be found at the farthest edge of the town, and there he would be tilling the land and watching over what little livestock grazed nearby. Chandra found him thus and quietly approached him as he worked. When he turned to see her, he bowed.
“I would have come at your call, my lady,” he told her quickly.