by Mary Yarde
“Sire,” Sampson hesitated. “Let us pause for a moment and think. And let us seek the wisdom of a higher authority. Let us pray for guidance.”
“I do not have time for prayers,” Budic replied.
“You are at a cross-roads, Sire. I do not want you to choose the wrong path.”
“You just said you had the authority to marry us, and that is all I am interested in. Save your sermons for the people, but do not preach to me.”
“Then may I speak my mind freely and without fear of reprisal?”
“Of course. I will listen to your words, but do not be offended if I ignore your council.”
“It takes a great deal to offend me,” Sampson stated without mirth or mockery.
“Then proceed.”
“I can understand the Abbot’s reservations.” Sampson chose his next words very carefully. “A death is always a sensitive time, but, please, don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly when Budic stepped closer towards him, with a hint of violence in his eyes. “I think he was hasty in his refusal to marry you. There is nothing stopping you from marrying each other. But may I suggest that we have the service here, away from prying eyes and, if I may be so bold, I would advise a certain amount of caution at announcing your marriage straight away to the populous. Give your people time to mourn, Sire, that is my advice.”
“Are you suggesting that I keep my marriage a secret?”
“Private, not secret. And only for a small amount of time, maybe three months? Two? One?” Sampson offered when Budic narrowed his eyes.
“Do you think I am so ashamed at my choice of wife that I want to hide her like a dirty bastard child?”
“No Sire, of course not. That is not what I meant at all,” Sampson’s face remained passive, patient, kind. While inside he was wondering if maybe he should have kept his mouth shut and followed the Abbot’s skirts. “I am just thinking of your subjects. I would not want them to consider you insensitive. I would not want them to question your love for our so recently departed Queen.”
“I do not care if my people think me insensitive. I loved the Queen, but she is dead, and there is nothing I can do that will bring her back. The Lady Josephine is my future and besides, who I choose to share my bed with and who I choose to marry has nothing whatsoever to do with you or my subjects. Why should the opinion of the masses concern me? Do not think to tell me how to rule my kingdom.” The way Budic spoke had caused many an older man to cower, but the boy did not flinch. He merely clasped his hands in front of him, as if in prayer.
“I am not trying to tell you how to rule your kingdom, Sire. I am a monk, a shepherd of men, not a ruler of them,” Sampson said with conviction. “I always thought you a wise king. A king who sees the wisdom in allowing his people to mourn their Queen, before presenting them with the one who will replace her.”
Josephine stepped forward and touched her hand to Budic’s sleeve. “The monk’s council is wise, Sire,” she said. “But there is something of the utmost importance that I need to tell you first. It is about-”
“Marry us then. Right now,” Budic cut Josephine off. “That is…if you want me?” his voice came out a little unsure as he looked at Josephine for the first time since she had come into the room.
“Here?” Josephine frowned. Don’t trust him. She heard Merton’s voice in her head. “What about witnesses?” she asked. “We need at least two?”
“Do you not have any faith in me, Josephine?” Budic said as he held out his hand to her. “You think I would not honour my word?”
“No, that is not what I think at all. I know you will honour your word.” She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips. Budic was a king, and his word was his bond. She could trust him.
Budic smiled, and his one eye lost that spark of anger. “Good. I am glad of that. I missed you this morning. I never want to awaken without you by my side again.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.
Sampson cleared his throat in embarrassment, reminding them that they were not alone. They broke apart and looked at him, Budic frowning at such an interruption whereas Josephine blushed.
“Then, let us begin,” Sampson said, looking from one to the other. He then began the wedding rites that would make Josephine a du Lac forever.
21
“Ah, there you are,” Alden slurred his words as he stumbled into Merton’s room without a by-your-leave. He then proceeded to help himself to last night’s ale. Alden picked up the goblet and leant against the table. “You,” he pointed to Merton. “Need to leave,” he raised the goblet in a mock toast.
“Are you drunk?” Merton asked. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who thought he could find a solution at the bottom of a mead jug this early in the morning. After he had left Amandine’s chamber, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He did not feel in the mood to go back to the camp and he certainly did not want to socialise with any of Budic’s followers. And the last thing he wanted to think about was Philippe, after all, this wasn’t his kingdom, and he wasn’t welcome here, so what concern of it was his? Why should he borrow more trouble? He had enough of his own to contend with. So he had ordered the strongest mead and decided he would spend the day locked in his room, drinking himself into oblivion.
“No,” Alden stated, and then he laughed. “Maybe a bit.”
“Here try the mead, it’s nice,” Merton picked up the jug from the floor.
Alden downed the contents of his goblet and held his cup out for a refill.
“It is not safe for you here,” Alden stated, sipping at the mead. “I just spoke to Bastian.”
“Bastian? Is he still alive? I thought he would have died a long time ago.”
“He is still the General of what’s-his-name’s army,” Alden stated gravely.
“Budic’s army?”
“Yeah, that’s right. He is the General of Budic’s army,” Alden spat the words sending a shower of mead out of his mouth as he spoke. “That’s a very important job. He said it was.”
“When did you see him?”
“Just now? No…” Alden swayed alarmingly. “Last night, I think…it was…I…yesterday?...I don’t know. But he…he…he said, what did he say? What are we talking about?”
“You could never hold your drink. Sit down before you fall and tell me why you are so inebriated this early in the morning.”
Alden plonked himself down in the chair opposite his brother.
“Bastian and I we…we…” Alden took another sip of mead and then looked at his cup in surprise. “This is good stuff,” he stated in a high-pitched voice. “I shall tell Budic.” He made to rise, but Merton pushed him back down into the chair.
“Were you playing a drinking game with him?” Merton asked. “And you didn’t invite me?”
“He said…you…you were in danger. You have to leave,” Alden started laughing. “He told me you had to go…today. Otherwise, you were going to,” Alden leant forward in his chair. “Die,” he started laughing again.
“I am glad you find my imminent demise so amusing,” Merton said, trying his hardest not to laugh. His brother could never hold his drink, and he always sprouted absolute nonsense when he was drunk.
“No…you must leave,” Alden said, nodding his head forcefully, his hair falling into his face as he did so. “And I am your king,” Alden waved his hand in the air. “And you must do as I say.”
“Right,” Merton stated, rising from the chair to help his brother to his feet. “Let’s get you into bed, Sire, and…thank you, but I think I had better have that,” Merton took the goblet from him. “You have had enough for one day.”
“I haven’t finished with that,” Alden protested.
Merton quickly downed the contents of Alden’s mead. “Yes, you have. It is all gone. See.”
“I think you are lying.” Alden wagged his finger in Merton’s face.
“Come on, up we come,” Merton encouraged, helping Alden to his feet. “I will ask the
maid to bring you up some food.”
Alden took one-step and fell against his brother. “Oops!” Alden muttered with humour. “There is something wrong with the floor. It is very uneven. What’s-his-name needs to get someone to look at it.”
“You can tell Budic when you are sober,” Merton advised.
“I will,” Alden promised solemnly as he wobbled alarmingly on his feet.
“Alden you smell like an ale house and have you been sick?” Merton asked, as he tried to help his brother walk across the chamber towards the bed.
“Only the once,” Alden said seriously. “Do you know I am a king?”
“I do,” Merton answered.
“I rule a country. I have my own kingdom,” Alden said with pride.
“That’s right,” Merton agreed. “Now, concentrate on what you are doing.”
“I have a wife,” Alden stated. “She’s very pretty.”
“I know. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“I love her.”
“I know that as well.”
“Bastian says you are going to die. I don’t want you to die. I like you.”
“I like you as well, you drunk old bastard, now come on.”
There was a loud and very demanding knock at the door.
“At least someone knocks around here. That better not be Bastian,” Merton warned.
“My Lord?” The voice was commanding. It was one that was used to being obeyed. It was one of Budic’s men. “May I come in?”
“No,” Alden yelled. “Merton isn’t here,” he raised his hand and patted Merton on the cheek. “There is no need to fear, I will keep you safe.”
“Why don’t you just sit yourself down here and I’ll go and have a word with whoever it is.”
Alden gladly fell to the floor, giggling like a little girl as he did so.
“Take my sword,” Alden advised.
“I’ve got my own.” Merton chuckled as he crossed the room and opened the door.
The soldier stood up straighter. “The King demands your presence and that of the King of Cerniw.”
“Merton isn’t here,” Alden yelled again. “He was here, and now he’s not. I don’t know where he has gone. I have looked everywhere but poof, he has vanished.”
“My Lord?” the soldier looked at Merton for an explanation, clearly baffled.
“The King of Cerniw is currently intoxicated,” Merton explained, straight-faced. “It is not a regular occurrence, and I can only think to blame the general of your army for my brother’s current state.”
“I am not here either,” Alden shouted. “Oh, I can see a spider. Here spider, spider, spider…”
“Budic’s orders were very specific, my Lord. He wanted to see you both on a matter of grave importance.”
“The timing could be better,” Merton stated, glancing back at his brother.
“If you have come to kill Merton you will have to get through me first,” Alden said heroically as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He tried to unsheathe his sword, but his hand kept missing the pommel.
“He wanted to see you both immediately,” the soldier said as he peered around Merton and looked at the King of Cerniw. “He was very adamant on that point.”
Merton moved himself so he blocked the soldier’s view of Alden. “Tell my brother we will be honoured to wait on him. But first, if you could be so kind as to get me a bucket of very, very, cold water. A change of clothes and something for him to eat, I would be much obliged,” Merton said.
“I’ll see to it right away, my Lord,” the soldier stated.
Merton smiled and shut the door in his face.
“I told him, didn’t I?” Alden said as he fell onto his knees. “Did you see how scared he was of me?”
“He was terrified, Alden. Quaking in his boots.”
“Aye…he was. You must be so glad I have your back. No harm will come to you while I am here.” Alden’s eyes rolled backwards and then he collapsed onto the floor and began snoring loudly.
Merton shook his head. “And they call me a disgrace?” he chuckled as he watched his brother roll onto his back. “At least I don’t speak to spiders when I’m drunk,” he muttered the words, as he bent over his brother. “Come on, Sunshine, time to wake up.”
22
“You are what?” Alden asked in astonishment several hours later as they stood in Budic’s chamber and listened to his latest happy news. Alden’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was still dripping wet from where Merton had forced his head into a bucket of freezing water, and he had one heck of a headache, but at least he was now coherent and did not sway on the spot.
“Do I really need to repeat myself, or are you growing deaf?” Budic snapped, in that special way that he reserved for when Alden was in his company.
“Congratulations,” Merton said. He lingered near the door. When in enemy territory it was always best to be close to your exits.
Josephine, who had been looking down at the floor, raised her head, and her eyes clashed with Merton’s.
“May you have many happy years together,” Merton said, shaking his head ever so slightly. What had she been thinking, marrying him? Budic would never make her happy. He was too self-absorbed for someone like her.
Josephine lowered her gaze first, and she was glad that Budic clasped her hand tightly in his, for otherwise, she would not have had the courage to stay in the room. Merton’s gaze was full of questions, but she didn’t have to answer any of them. Not anymore. She was finally his equal. Actually, she was now above Merton in rank. He would have to bow to her now. The thought cheered her somewhat.
“When are you going to tell the people?” Alden asked, seeing the problems that would arise from such a union. “Could you not have waited?” he added under his breath, although Budic heard it.
“I did not ask for your opinion,” Budic snapped back, his face going red, and while one hand was clasping his new bride’s, the other was resting on his waist, within easy reach of the pommel of his sword.
“Then why did you summon us?” Alden asked, not at all cowed by Budic’s aggressive tones and threatening manners.
“Because I want Merton to do something for me, and I know that he is your lap dog, and he would need your permission to work for me, so I thought I would try to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
“What could you possibly want him for?” Alden asked. “You have your men to do your dirty work, leave him out of it.”
“But you think nothing of making him do yours,” Budic replied instantly, and the two great Kings glared at each other.
“I am in the room, you know. I thought I would just point that out,” Merton said from the door.
“I want him to spy. I heard he is good at it,” Budic continued, still addressing Alden, but there was a menace in his voice that covered a thinly veiled threat.
Budic knew. Merton realised with a cold sense of dread. Budic knew that he spied for Wessex. He would put money on it.
“And I need him to play a part. I need him to befriend Philippe de Manfrey,” Budic said.
“And what makes you think I would be willing to do that?” Merton asked, his tone menacing. Being blackmailed by Wessex was bad enough, but he would be damned if he allowed Budic to threaten him as well.
“I will forgive you your trespasses if he does. Your enemies will become my enemies, your friends, mine.” Budic continued to address Alden. “I will unite my kingdom with yours, and I will wipe the debt that is between us. I will help you defend your borders from Wessex.”
“You are in bed with Wessex,” Alden stated, and he was pleased when he saw the surprise in Budic’s eyes. “Oh, I knew, Budic. You recognised him as High King two months ago.”
“You did what?” Merton asked in a tone of absolute outrage. “After everything that bastard did-”
“Yes, but I am willing to burn the agreement and pretend it never happened.” Budic interrupted his younger brother, but he did not look at him. “I j
ust need Merton to do what he does best. We are brothers, Alden. We should be united. There is no need for us to be at odds. I know that there has always been bad feeling between us, but I am willing to put that aside and start again. What do you say?” He held out his hand for Alden to clasp.
Alden looked at Budic’s outstretched hand and then he looked back into his brother’s face. “I say who are you and what have you done with the King of Brittany?”
“I know what I am saying seems…wrong…coming from me. But I really do think we should let bygones be bygones. We have a lot of enemies, and the only people we can really trust are each other. Alden…brother…let’s unite.”
“What do you want me to do?” Merton asked, stepping forward until he stood next to Alden.
“Alden, I need your answer,” Budic persisted, not taking his eyes away from the Cerniw King.
“If you cannot even bring yourself to look at Merton, then what right do you have to ask him for anything?” Alden said.
“He is your subject, not mine. I cannot order him to do anything unless you give me permission to do so.”
“And I will not order him to do something when I know not what it is.”
“I have told you already. I want him to spy on Philippe. I have heard…certain accusations from a very reliable source...” he squeezed Josephine’s hand. “I would take his head now, but he is popular in court, and I need to…catch him in the act. All I am asking for is the loan of Merton and his vast resources. I do not want to keep him. You can have him back again afterwards.”
“Believe me, I would never let you keep him.”
“How dare you,” Merton said, his voice thick with suppressed rage. “How dare the two of you stand there and discuss what I will and will not do. I am not a slave who can be ordered around.”
“I did not give you permission to speak,” Budic growled, although he still refused to look at him.
“You will do as you are told,” Alden stated looking at Merton, with more than a touch of anger shining in his eyes. “You are my subject and under my authority.”