In Honor Bound

by DeAnna Julie Dodson

  "Philip would never step so far as to marry one of these common wenches!" Robert said, shocked more at the idea of such a marriage than at such a murder.

  "He has refused all the others. I hardly dare to speak it, but might he not set this girl up one day as Lynaleigh's queen? I fear even the thought, but it seems he'll never take a noble wife as long as this base wench is alive."

  "No."

  "He is your heir now. If you should die before his marriage, he would be free to choose a wife for himself. He thinks he loves this drab."

  "But he'd not marry her!"

  "If I know him, my liege, as no doubt you do, he'll have no other so long as she lives."

  "Would you have me take her life?"

  "Would you have her bastard blood forever pollute the line of Lynaleighan kings?"

  Robert was galled by the thought. "He says he loves her, calls her fair and virtuous and most loving to him. He has braved me again and again for her sake. Can I condemn her and keep my son?"

  "Is she truly all these things, my lord, or does she merely seem so to him?" Dunois lowered his voice. "I have heard that a man might be–" He paused and almost imperceptibly stressed the word. "–bewitched by such a woman."

  For a moment, Robert thought he might laugh at the suggestion, then understanding flashed through him and he crossed himself. "God defend us, do you think her a witch?"

  There was a certain archness behind the concern in the lord chamberlain’s expression.

  "It could explain, to the satisfaction of any who might raise questions, his sudden infatuation with her and his disobedience to you and why she must not live. A young prince of such promise would be especially prized by the evil one. Doubtless the girl has been empowered by Satan expressly to draw him into destruction. Still, we must not act rashly in so grave a matter. This should be tried in court."

  "The girl is nothing, but Philip would never forgive me such a trial."

  "Send him away, my liege. When he returns, she will be gone and he will quickly forget her. Such light wenches are easily replaced in a boy's fancy."

  "Where?"

  "To Amberly, so please you. The unrest there has too long been neglected and we both well know how apt my young lord is to win a people's loyalty with just a few brave words."

  Robert looked at his counselor, an awed, admiring fascination in his eyes. "What will you have, my lord, to pay you for saving my kingdom yet again?"

  "I only wish your happiness, Your Majesty, and my lord Philip's, of course. I wish him happy in his marriage, too. Of all the ladies that might be suitable for him, I noted but one that seemed to win his favor."

  "Your Marian."

  Dunois' answer was a self-deprecating shrug, but the king's expression turned thoughtful.

  "Your lady was of the Chastelaynes, I know, Dunois, and Marian is heir to your lands. More importantly, Philip did seem to favor her most of all the nobility."

  "Perhaps he will take the Fletcher girl's loss the better if Marian above all the others was chosen."

  Robert paused for a moment, remembering the pleas his son had made. "For Philip's sake, I cannot on so slight evidence take the girl's life."

  "Not even if it was she who made away with the poor innocent child of the son you lost?"

  "There is no proof of that."

  "I spoke to Princess Margaret earlier this morning, my liege. She remembered taking a potion to ease her discomfort shortly before her pains started."

  "So Philip said, and it was given her by Merryn."

  "It was given her by Katherine Fletcher."

  "Dunois–"

  "Who is to say it was not? The child is dead, my lord, whether by chance or by design. If this charge was proved against Katherine Fletcher, could you not then, in law, rid yourself of her and remove this dangerous hindrance to your son's reign? Surely, my lord Philip would not sanction murder just for the benefit of his lust."

  "Let it be so," Robert said after long consideration. "Rid me of this low-blooded Katherine and your daughter shall be Lynaleigh's next queen."

  "Your Majesty overwhelms me with this honor."

  "It will be well worth it, if you can do what you have said and keep me my son."

  "One day he will thank you, my liege, for sparing him the ignominy he now seems bent upon," Dunois assured him. "Bring the witch to trial."

  The king nodded. "There my nobles can see and tell the people she is fairly dealt with and none can call it unjust."

  "Of course," Dunois agreed. "Of course."

  ***

  Before noon, Philip was again in his father's private chamber.

  "Have you spoken yet to Margaret, Father? Heaven and earth, what she has done is an offense to God Himself!"

  "She is very ill yet," Robert said placidly, "but do not fear. This matter shall be brought before the court and the guilty shall not go unpunished. So, let that rest. I have need of you now in another cause. You must go to Amberly."

  "Why?"

  "There has been a dispute and near rebellion in the town over our levies for war. The lord mayor has asked me to send someone to settle the matter and I think it only right you should be my representative."

  "But the trial, my lord. I cannot go now."

  "That must wait until Margaret is well. It is important now that you be seen governing the people. You will next be king in Lynaleigh."

  Philip's eyes widened. He would be king. He had not before deeply considered what the death of Richard's child would mean to him. He would be king and Kate would be queen. He could never tell his father about her now. There was no knowing what Robert might do to keep the royal line pure.

  "No."

  "Of course you will, Philip. You are my heir."

  "No, please, Father, I have no right. I cannot."

  "You can, boy, you can! By the mass, have I strived so long for this kingdom to have you balk now? No right? Your ancestors have been the kings of Lynaleigh time out of mind. You are now my eldest son. I was my father's eldest and he was first born to an anointed king. No right? By law and before God, you have every right to the crown after me. Do you think that butcher Stephen would better fit the place."

  "No."

  "Well then, do as you are bidden. I would have you leave tomorrow early. Settle matters in Amberly and then, if you please to, you have my leave to visit Tom awhile in Chrisdale. It is not so much farther on."

  ***

  Philip left Katherine sleeping, pausing only long enough to press the image of her indelibly into his memory. When he was very old, he wanted still to see her as she was just then with her hands clasped together under her blooming cheek and the fair cascade of her hair caressing her skin. He wanted so much to wake her, for a last kiss, a last embrace, a last farewell, but he dared not. This swift, silent parting was kinder, and he would only be a few days away.

  "Good-bye, sweeting," he murmured, promising himself he would make all the haste he could in returning to her, and then he was gone.

  He and his men had ridden little more than half a day before they came upon a rider from Chrisdale. Philip recognized him as one of Tom's serving men, the one who openly numbered himself with the Heretics, the one Tom had recently made a captain in his army, much to their father's disapproval. Tom had taken a liking to his easy-going ways and, despite the ten or fifteen years difference in their ages, the two had become fast friends. Philip himself found much to like in the man and smiled at the sight of him.

  "Palmer!"

  "You are very well met, my lord. I have letters to you."

  "From my brother?"

  "Yes, my lord, to you and to the king such as should please."

  "Yes?"

  Palmer tossed a thick handful of his long hair back out of his face and nodded. "There was some trouble in Amberly, but my lord Tom, hearing of it, went to see what was the matter. The grievance was more to the old tune, but he told them again of your father's descent and right to the crown and how these levies they balked at are meant
more for their own protection being so near Ellenshaw as they are and more such until they swore faith again to the king. I am sent to tell His Majesty that it is settled now and he need not worry any further."

  "Better and better, thank God. Your news spares me a task I was loath to do. Let us go back to Winton. I know your duty requires you there and mine no longer requires me away."

  It was very late when they again came to Winton, but Philip would not hear of stopping anywhere else for the night. He was disappointed to find his chamber empty of Katherine, though it was bright and warm as if it had only just been left.

  He was searching the palace for her when he heard the sound of voices in the council chamber and saw a flicker of light under the door. He had never known the council to meet so late, and he stopped for a moment to listen.

  "Confess that you took the life of our late Prince Richard's child!"

  Philip recognized the lord chief justice's clipped tones. Could it be that they had brought Margaret to trial already? And at this hour?

  "Will none of you take the part of right and innocency?"

  That was Katherine's voice, helpless and pleading! He strained to hear more.

  "If not for mercy's sake, my lords, then for the love you bear Prince Philip? I beg you, call him here. He will witness the truth of what I say. Please, my lords, I am innocent!"

  Philip flung open the door.

  "She is innocent, Your Majesty!"

  Robert drew back from the white-lipped fury on his son's face.

  "Philip, son, I thought you would be by now in Amberly."

  "Tom settled that matter before I could get there, I met his messenger along the way. What is this?"

  "My lord of Caladen," the justice said over the rumblings of the others, "you are not required at this trial."

  Philip turned to the haughty, gray-faced old man. "I believe, if you will pardon me, my lord chief justice, that I am most required." His voice was taut. "Mistress Fletcher is innocent and you will be guilty of gross misjustice if you find her anything less. Question me, if it please you. You know I always speak the truth."

  "That's so," one of the courtiers said, and a murmur of assent rippled through the onlookers. Dunois frowned.

  "My lord, it is not your honor that is in question here. We all know it to be beyond reproach. Your judgment, however..." He faltered there, as if he were reluctant to continue, and Philip turned cold eyes on him.

  "Say what it is you have to say, my lord. There is no argument you can make that will stand up to plain truth."

  Dunois only looked uncomfortably at the king, but the lord chief justice did not hesitate to speak what was on his mind.

  "I say, my lord, Your Majesty, and all you peers here, that my lord of Caladen cannot speak truth because he has been blinded from it. This witch has charmed his tongue so he cannot speak truth. Having seduced him with her body, she has gained control of his spirit and thinks to rule Lynaleigh through him when he is one day king."

  "That's a lie!" Philip protested. "If Lynaleigh is abused by witches, then it is that witch from Westered, Margaret, and her serving woman that abuse us! Katherine is innocent, I know it."

  "How is it that you know this, might I ask?"

  "She told me."

  A ripple of nervous laughter passed through the court.

  "She spoke the truth!" Philip insisted.

  "This is no evidence, Your Majesty," the lord chief justice said. "It has already been proven that she has bewitched our unfortunate Prince Philip to say anything she chooses."

  "Already been proven?" Philip protested. "How proven? I've not been questioned. Try me and see if I am master of my own spirit."

  "She has confessed to sympathy with the Heretics already, my lord, and will not recant. It is but one small step from blasphemy to witchcraft."

  "Then condemn me along with her," Philip said. "I am as guilty in that as she."

  "Your words only prove your enslavement to her black arts, Your Highness, as much as it pains me to say so," the justice told him, his voice gentle.

  Desperate, Philip turned to the Lord High Chamberlain. "Dunois, this is madness. How can they say this? Can you not see that this is Margaret's doing?"

  Dunois only shook his head sadly and turned back to the king. "I grieve with you, Your Majesty."

  "What proof?!" Philip cried, wondering if he were indeed mad or bewitched, or if the entire court were. "What have I done, I beseech you my lords tell me, that has convinced you of this?"

  "If you are your own master, as you say, then renounce this heresy this woman has led you into."

  Philip looked at Katherine. Her eyes pled with him and for a moment he wavered, then she dropped her head and shook it, a slow decisive gesture. Philip looked up hopelessly.

  "I cannot."

  Every face in the court was turned to him, every expression grieved and sympathetic.

  "Come away, my lord," Dunois suggested. "You should not be here now. It will only pain you to–"

  Philip shoved him aside and went to his father. "You'll not do this to her. Did you think to bring her here in the night and make away with her without my knowing? You'll not do this to her. You'll not do this to me."

  Robert was careful to keep his voice gentle. "Please, son, go with Dunois. Once you have been freed from her, you will understand why it must be so."

  "I shall never understand."

  Robert stood and tried to calm him. "Go with Dunois. Let us do what must be done."

  With a speed born of desperation, Philip threw his father aside and grabbed the girl's arm. He pulled her towards the door, but he was not halfway there before the king’s guard overpowered him.

  "Philip!" she shrieked as she was dragged away from him. "Philip, no!"

  "Kate! Do not touch her!" Philip's struggles became more violent, wild. "Let me go!"

  "Take him to the north tower," Robert commanded over his protests. "We need see no more of this to prove the witch guilty, and the sooner my son is away from her the better."

  "Philip! Philip, please!" the girl cried. "Speak them fair! Your ravings condemn me!"

  Abruptly, Philip stopped his struggling and only the heaving in his chest remained to testify to his earlier outburst. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, my lord chief justice, my lords all," he said with a controlled expression and a still-trembling voice, "but I cannot let such a terrible punishment be met out to the innocent. Mistress Fletcher is–"

  "See how he calms at her command," the lord chief justice said in an awed half-whisper, crossing himself, and the king was quick to press his sudden advantage.

  "Need you further proof?" he said into the court's dead silence, then he signaled the guard. "Do as I have bidden you."

  "Please, Philip," Katherine cried, "tell them. Tell them!"

  "I cannot. If you are to have any hope of mercy, I cannot." Philip turned desperate eyes to his father. "Please." Then he felt the strong hands on him tighten as he was pulled towards the door. "No, Your Majesty. My lord. Father! Please do not do this! Please! Kate! Kate, forgive me!"

  Suddenly her arms were around his neck, her lips on his. Moving to prevent her, the guards were forced to loosen their grasp on him and that was enough to allow him to hold her close one last time.

  "Kate, Kate," he sobbed.

  "Part them!" the king barked, and one of the guards pulled Katherine from Philip's arms. Philip lunged at him, but could not break his captors' hold.

  "Father," he pled again, the word choked, hardly intelligible. "I beg you, oh God, Father, on my knees. Don't. You take my life in taking hers."

  He tried to kneel, to give force to his plea, but he was denied even that.

  "The witch's power over him is strong," the justice said gravely. "Speak true, witch! Have you given him some token to bind him to you? Or taken aught of his?"

  The girl clutched her hands against her breast.

  "Nothing in sorcery, my lord."

  "See. She lies again." The just
ice pulled her hands away and seized the treasure she had sought to conceal against her heart. "Do you know this ring, my sovereign?"

  Robert snatched it from him. "My son's! A token by which she might rule him, God defend us!"

  "God defend us from false accusations!" Philip spat.

  "He is likely to have some talisman of hers as well, Your Majesty." The justice flicked open Philip's shirt and lifted up the fine sapphire cross that hung against his skin. "This."

  "No." Philip struggled again. "A holy cross, my lords. It speaks for her innocence. Would a witch give such a token?"

  Robert came to him and examined the cross. "When ever did evil shun to put on seeming grace to disguise itself?"

  He snapped the fine chain and dropped it to the floor. Philip watched in horror as he ground the delicate cross under his heel.

  "Take the prince away. I shall not bid you again."

  Philip howled curses at them all, struggling once more to free himself until it felt as if his sinews would snap.

  "God will judge all of you for this!"

  It took four of them to drag him backwards out of the door and he fought them wildly, straining every muscle, using every ounce of strength he had, screaming all the while to be freed, to be heard.

  The silence that followed was sullied by the echoes of his cries and by the girl's desolate sobs.

  ***

  "What say my lords now?" Robert said finally. "The witch seems guilty to me. I trust you will find her so."

  "What can we say, Your Majesty, in the face of such evidence?" asked Dunois, then he turned to the other lords. "We have seen his bewitchment with our own eyes. Can we find, in our love for the poor oppressed boy, any verdict but guilty?"

  ***

  Philip sat numbly in the corner of his cell, oblivious to the dawn light that had filtered into his bleak surroundings. His mind was fixed on his last sight of his young wife, looking scared and small, flanked by soldiers, forbidden to speak to him. He knew it would likely be the last time he ever saw her.

  It still astounded him that he was even here in his father's prison, forbidden to communicate with anyone. His father thought him mad or bewitched and would not hear him. Katherine was doomed, he could feel it in the cold dread that sat heavily in the pit of his stomach, and he could do nothing.