Rose Victory - Eagle Series

by Eagle Lady

  “He could have hurt you too.”

  “I was only going to distract Black so that the page could get out.”

  “Black is a warhorse, son. He is trained to do just that.” Roydon suppressed a shudder; he couldn’t even bear to think of what the outcome could have been.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you?” An intense look appeared in the earl’s eyes. “Tell me truly. Would you do it again?”

  “I…I…” Aguilus had not wanted to disobey his father but neither could he have allowed the girl to get hurt. He remembered the terror he had felt when the horse had come at him, but also the satisfaction when the girl had pulled her tongue out at him later.

  The boy squared his shoulders and looked decisively up at his father. “Yes I would, sir.” He would take whatever punishment his lord deemed necessary for his defiance but he would not lie. “I am sorry that I disobeyed you, but I would not let the girl be trampled if I could prevent it.”

  “My orders, Aguilus, as indeed are those of Sir Stefan and even Ivan’s, are to be obeyed immediately and without question, as are my instructions. Your life, as well as that of others, could depend on your actions.”

  Aguilus felt saddened by his father’s implied displeasure, but he stood his ground. He had meant what he said and he would not say otherwise, but on the other hand he also understood what his lord was saying. Blind obedience from a squire to those in authority was an integral part of the training. In a battle there could be no hesitation, as the incident in the forest had demonstrated. He nodded his head slowly, but confusion now suffused his gaze.

  “However,” Roydon saw the distress in the boy’s eyes and laid a hand on his shoulder, “there are times when a man must decide for himself. A time when he stands alone and only he can decide if he follows the safe path of obedience or the dictates of his heart and conscience. Always remember that you will live, or die, with the consequences of those actions, so do not plunge in without thought, ever.”

  The squire’s distress had gradually dissipated at his sire’s words, to be replaced by a growing sense of relief. His father had practically called him a man and he did not seem to be angry.

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Did you think before you jumped into that stall?”

  Aguilus nodded, his face set and determined. “There was nothing else I could do, sir. There was no time and I thought I could distract Black long enough for the girl to get away.”

  The earl stared at the boy for a moment in silence and then he nodded. “Very well, I will accept your decision and your actions this time. But do not for a moment think that this gives you leave to disregard my orders in future. Do you understand me?”

  Again the squire nodded, his relief now full blown, though his face remained serious. “Yes, my lord.”

  “Good. Now let me just add that though I tremble to think of what might have happened, I am very proud of you, son.” An expression of pride settled on the earl’s face. “It was an unbelievably brave thing you did.”

  “You do not fear anything, Father.” Aguilus’ beautiful, golden eyes shone with the knowledge that his sire trusted and was proud of him.

  “You are mistaken, Aguilus.” The earl leaned forward and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I fear daily for the well-being of my children, all my children.”

  This time Aguilus did not hesitate. He walked into his father’s arms. After an incredibly satisfying hug, the boy stepped back.

  “As regards your words to the king, we will not go into that.” Roydon smiled ruefully. “I too have erred in that respect and am the last person to bring you to task for it. Did you apologise?”

  “Yes, sir.” The squire stated emphatically.

  “As did I.” The earl raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Suffice it to say that we will never do it again?”

  “Yes, my lord,” Aguilus agreed. “Besides I liked the king, he was nice to me.”

  Roydon had never heard Henry described as ‘nice’ before, but he only nodded seriously. “Henry is our king and we owe him our loyalty and our respect.”

  “I liked Princess Elizabeth too. She has long, black hair that she stuffed under a cap and then she pretended to be a boy so that she could go to the stables.” Aguilus grinned, “She is brave too. She also jumped into Black’s stall.”

  “That’s not brave, Aguilus. That’s stupid.”

  “Maybe she didn’t realise how dangerous Black is?” the boy defended the Princess.

  “Maybe,” the earl conceded. “But enough of this, there is something I wish to speak to you about.” Roydon paused for a moment, unsure how to proceed. “By the king’s command, I will be getting married tomorrow,” he said at last, unable to find an easier way to tell the boy his news.

  Aguilus stared blankly at his father for a moment. “Married?” he murmured in shock. “Married?” he repeated, alarm in his voice as old, vicious taunts suddenly rose up to haunt him.

  “It is a political alliance arranged by the king,” the earl explained quietly, noting the boy’s pale face. “The lady will come to live at Eagle Rock.” Roydon looked steadily at his suddenly ashen faced son. “What worries you, Aguilus?”

  “Will I have to go away?” There was pain and uncertainty in the boy’s voice.

  “Of course not!” The sincerity in his father’s voice calmed the boy somewhat. “What gave you that idea?”

  “The kitchen boys said that no lady would allow their husband’s bastard to live in her home.”

  “That is unfortunately true. Some men are weak willed enough to be ruled by their wives.” The earl cocked his head to the side, his expression one of mock anger and outrage. “You think me weak and feeble? That I am unable to rule in my own home? Unable to protect those I love?”

  Aguilus laughed at the earl’s threatening expression, his fears put to rest by his father’s words. He should never have doubted him, but all this was so new.

  “Answer me, boy!” Roydon intensified his frown but his dark eyes were laughing along with his son’s giggles.

  “No, my lord!” Aguilus managed at last, catching his breath. “I think you are the strongest and best father in the whole world.”

  The boy’s golden eyes, so like his mother’s, shone up at Roydon with complete trust. For a moment the earl wished with all his might that he could see his Eagle Lady again, wished that she could see the beautiful child that they had created together. They were mates, made for each other and yet apparently fated to live apart.

  Would the emptiness in his heart never be filled? Never again feel the solace of her arms? His lady had felt so near lately, even now he felt a shadow of her presence… Roydon shook his head. It was just his imagination, probably due to Aguilus’ golden eyes, eyes that were looking at him now in perplexity, due to his long silence.

  “Your lord, you say, squire!” Roydon grumbled at the boy, burying his longing. At least he had the boy; that would have to be enough. “Yet here I am, practically dying of thirst and not even a cup of water am I offered.”

  Aguilus grinned and turned away to get the earl some wine.

  “You have grown lax in my absence and now I will have to do something about it.” Roydon contemplated the boy so seriously that Aguilus didn’t know what to think. “Some sword practice, I think,” the earl murmured and then watched as his son’s face brightened with excitement.

  “Sword practice with you, Father! I mean with you, my lord? Really?” Aguilus couldn’t keep still in his excitement.

  “Yes, I need the exercise and you I see, have energy enough to spare. We will go to the training field and you can show me what Ivan has been teaching you.”

  “I have learnt a lot, sir. Sir Ivan says I have good reflexes and that I have grown much stronger. He has given me leave to call him Ivan when I am off duty, just like Uncle Stefan, I mean Sir Stefan. It’s a bit confusing but I will get used to it all. Can we get them to come with us now? They said they were going to the courtyard and…”
/>   Roydon smiled as he followed his son from the chamber. Just to think that he had missed the boy’s never ending chatter…

  Chapter Ten

  The earl of Eagle Rock arrived in the yard of the White Chapel shortly before midday. He was dressed in unrelieved black, as was his norm, except for the small embroidered Eagle Rock emblem on the left breast of his tunic. Yet today the absence of colour struck a jarring note among the gaily dressed people waiting to witness the wedding ceremony.

  “Not many friends here, Roy.”

  What Stefan said was true. Roydon did not consider any of these people friends, acquaintances at best and so he kept his distance. He did not make shallow, casual friendships. His real friends were loyal and true, not back-stubbing courtiers, and their number could be counted on the fingers of two hands. A few fellow noblemen and a handful of military men, but these were not available to attend his wedding. Not that he would have asked them to, Roydon considered this a farce and the sooner it was over the better.

  “I wouldn’t be here either if I could help it.” The earl replied shortly, looking up at the small, white limestone building. The midday sun reflected off the rare, tall, coloured glass windows as Roydon led the way towards the main entrance to the chapel.

  Deciding to wait outside rather than in the close confines of the building, the earl stopped beneath one of the windows with his companions. Dark, silent and with a totally expressionless face, he awaited the arrival of his bride. Inside Roydon did not feel calm or relaxed, but he would run a gauntlet before he allowed these people to see his reluctance and distaste for this marriage.

  Roydon looked down at his son who stood by his side and a tiny smile broke the hard contours of his lips. The boy tried, unsuccessfully, to emulate his own stony countenance but his eyes kept darting around the yard; looks of surprise, awe and excitement chasing across his features. Aguilus, as his squire, also dressed in black but over his dark attire he wore a tabard depicting his lord’s emblem, the twin of the symbol that graced the earl’s breast. The soaring golden eagle, on the blue background with the mountain in the distance, matched exactly the colour of his eyes.

  On Roydon’s other side stood Stefan, with Ivan beside him. Both had dressed soberly with black chausses and dark green and blue tunics respectively. Roydon noticed the curious and startled glances thrown their way when anyone noticed Aguilus’ resemblance to him, but no one come near them. His dark forbidding countenance saw to that. Nevertheless the subtle and not so subtle pointing and whisperings continued until the king arrived.

  Henry, splendidly attired in a bright blue, jewel studded tunic with a gold circlet on his brow, drew the attention of the crowd. Amid fawning bows and curtseys, the king, surrounded by his bodyguards, walked towards the isolated group by the wall. At a murmured command from the sovereign, Henry’s guards kept the people that followed the king at bay as he joined the earl.

  “Your Majesty,” Roydon and his companions bowed deeply.

  “Eagle, Sir Stefan,” Henry acknowledged the greeting then turned to stare at Aguilus, fascinated. “It is uncanny, Eagle! He would be a younger identical version of you, were it not for his singular eye colour.”

  Roydon saw his son straighten his back and pull back his shoulders. “It’s a poor gift I have given the boy, Sire, with this great beak of mine.”

  “Nonsense, the boy looks handsome enough in your colours.”

  At the king’s words, Aguilus seemed to swell even more. He would burst with pride in a moment if this continued, thought Roydon, as he laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He is a good boy, Sire.”

  “Yes, we have met.” Henry smiled as he remembered the boy’s outspoken defence of his father as he started to turn away.

  “How is Princess Elizabeth, Sire?” Aguilus asked quickly before the king left.

  The earl turned an icy, cold look on his squire that clearly conveyed the fact that he should not have spoken, let alone questioned the king. The gasp from Sir Ivan confirmed the fact; Stefan just grinned. “I am sorry, Sire,” Roydon excused his son’s faux pas. “My squire,” the earl emphasized, “should know better than to speak without permission,” he glared at Aguilus. “He will be reminded of his manners shortly.”

  The king, at first taken aback by the boy’s forwardness, now smiled at the earl. “Do not punish the boy, Eagle. He is like a breath of fresh air. Much like my Elizabeth, a hoyden that one,” he mused affectionately. “The Princess is fine, Aguilus,” Henry addressed the squire. “I thank you for your concern.”

  This time Aguilus glanced at his lord for permission before speaking and at the curt nod, he spoke his voice contrite. “I am sorry for speaking out, Sire, but I am glad that the Princess is well.”

  The king nodded and turned away. “Come along, Eagle. It’s time to take our places; your bride is on her way.”

  “If I must,” the reluctance in Roydon’s voice came across loud and clear.

  Henry raised an eyebrow at him, all amusement and good humour suddenly in abeyance. “My lord?”

  “I am here at your behest, Sire, I gave you my word. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “No, but you will go through with it all the same.” The steel in the king’s voice would easily have cut through one of the thick wooden practice posts. “Come.” Without waiting to see if his vassal followed, Henry started for the chapel entrance.

  Roydon waited at the foot of the altar; in front of him stood the king’s chaplain, ready to start the ceremony as soon as the bride arrived. Several paces behind the earl and to the side sat the king on a lone backless chair, beside him stood the Gibel delegation. The main body of the chapel was filled with as many of the courtiers and their ladies as that small building could accommodate. The only open space left, apart from that at the foot of the altar, was a narrow passage down the middle of the chapel from doorway to altar. Three paces behind the earl and to the forefront of the crowd stood Sir Stefan and Ivan with Aguilus between them.

  Roydon had walked straight up to the altar steps, without a single glance to left or right. Now he stood facing front refusing to acknowledge either the mass of people or the arrival of his bride.

  “She is veiled, Roy,” Stefan stepped up to him, obviously not wanting his friend to be caught unawares. “Otherwise the lady seems sound of limb. Tall though,” he whispered.

  The earl shrugged, “Even if she is ugly as hell beneath that veil, it still does not matter.” He just hoped that the woman would not snub his son. He preferred peace in his household, but if she refused Aguilus then she would discover who ruled in his castle, be she a princess or not. Roydon straightened his stance, hand on his sword hilt, he waited as silence gradually enveloped the chapel and Stefan stepped back to his previous position.

  Still the earl refused to turn around. He waited until he felt, more than saw, someone pause by his side. Only then did he turn his head. Stefan had been right; the lady was tall, and curvaceous. Dressed in a dark gold velvet over-dress, a cream lace veil covered her face and also fell from the top of her head and down her back.

  His bride stood beside him and Roydon could not see a single inch of her. Now he understood Stefan’s comment. Apparently the lady had two arms and two legs under all that cloth, and a head, surely there must be something holding up the veil? Was the woman diseased or marked that she had to be covered like this? Roydon asked himself as he unsuccessfully tried to see through the lace, to the face beyond.

  Then one of the bride’s attendants came forward, her intention obvious as she lifted the bottom of the facial veil. But the servant was too short, unless the lady bent down or the attendant stood on a stool, she would never be able to lift the veil over the lady’s head.

  Roydon faced his bride impatiently. Protocol or no protocol, he refused to stand here all day. Stepping in front of the servant, he easily lifted the veil and flung it over the lady’s head. Unfortunately the thing had not been secured in any way and the whole thing slipped down her back
to the floor.

  The first thing that the earl saw made him catch his breath. Long, golden hair curled and flowed down her back to her waist. Roydon knew that hair, had imagined it, dreamt of it for ten long years. The earl shook his head, he must be mad. It was just hair. He stepped back, but still he hesitated a moment before he could bring himself to look at his bride’s face.

  He had just gone insane. Stubborn chin, generous mouth, smooth dusky skin and beautiful golden eyes that were now sparkling with inner joy. Roydon fell back a step, dazed, this could not be happening. He closed his eyes for a moment, but when he opened them again she still stood there. It seemed impossible and yet… The earl raised a tentative hand and brushed it lightly, gently against the lady’s smooth cheek.

  The moment he touched her, the emptiness that had been his constant companion for so long, disappeared. Roydon felt the deep loneliness within him gradually being replaced with a feeling of well-being, of satisfaction, and then a deep joy engulfed him as he drunk in the sight of his Lady. Black, gleaming eyes sought bright golden ones and time seemed to hesitate. Roydon’s lips formed the words that clamoured to be shouted from the battlements, yet were delivered as barely a thought on his lips. “Mine! Mine!”

  The answer, just as silent, just as profound, echoed from his bride’s lips. “Yours!”

  The earl of Eagle Rock stepped slightly back from his bride; a deep contentment etched on his proud features. He had found his Eagle Lady!

  Roydon felt a hand on his arm and he dragged his eyes away from his lady. “Roy, are you alright?” Stefan’s concerned gaze studied him. “You have been staring at the bride for a while now and the priest is getting impatient,” he whispered.

  “I am well, Stef.” Roydon smiled at his friend, a deep contentment in his eyes that Stefan had not seen in a long time. “Have you seen my lady?”

  “No, from here it’s…” Stefan’s words dried on his lips, as the lady in question turned towards them. “Good Lord…Roy! Her eyes…!”

  “She is my son’s mother, my lady from the mountain, Stef,” the quiet satisfaction in the earl’s voice brought a lump to the knight’s throat.