The Conqueror (Hot Knights)

by Gillgannon, Mary

  Edeva was halfway to the gate before she realized that she could not appear on the tower and speak to the army below. Normans, and indeed, most men, did not consider warfare or politics matters for a woman’s concern. In Jobert’s absence, Fornay was the obvious person to act as Oxbury’s representative. Since she had incapacitated him, the must find someone else, someone she could trust.

  The sight of Rob coming out of the stables filled her with relief. “Sir Rob,” she called, “I have need of you.”

  He walked stiffly toward her. “I don’t know how much use I’ll be. I’m still weak as a babe. I had not realized how far I had to go until I put on my mail. I vow, it takes near all my strength merely to walk around.”

  “I don’t need you to fight, at least not yet,” Edeva assured him. “Simply stand on the gatetower and look and sound like a strong warrior. Someone must speak to the leader of these men and find out their business here.”

  “That is Alan’s duty,” Rob protested. “He is Jobert’s first captain.”

  “Fornay fell off the gatetower ladder and is indisposed.”

  Rob’s jaw dropped. “When did this happen?”

  “Not long ago.” Edeva took Rob’s mailed arm and tried to propel him toward the gate. “I put him in the upper bedchamber. He should be well in a few hours.”

  Rob set his feet. “Jesu, are you certain? Should you not see to him?”

  “The matter of the men at the gate seems more pressing. I’ll tell you what to say.”

  Having been under the care of a woman for the past weeks, Rob was used to receiving orders from them, and he finally submitted to Edeva’s urgings.

  When they reached the gatehouse ladder, Osbert was in a state. “The archers are in position as you asked, milady. But it still feels strange to me. Why should we not let these men in? Why should we prepare for attack? They are Normans, like us.”

  Rob gave her a look. “Yea, that is right, lady. Why should we think these men mean us ill?”

  Edeva thought she would explode with frustration. “Before he left, Lord Brevrienne warned that there might be a threat to Oxbury. We must guard his interests.”

  “But surely he thought the threat would come from Saxons,” Rob said.

  “Are you so certain Brevrienne does not have other enemies?” she demanded. “From what I heard of it, before your people came to harass the English, they fought bitterly among themselves in Normandy for many years. How can you assume that such warlike men have suddenly become peace-loving?”

  “But William outlawed fighting among his nobles,” Osbert said, quoting the king’s decree like a child reciting by rote. “He said that if any of them fought against each other here in England, he would withdraw the lands awarded to them.”

  Gritting her teeth, Edeva forbore to point out that, human nature being what it was, simply outlawing an activity seldom eradicated it. Instead, she said, “Mayhaps you are right and these men mean us no harm. But ’tis only prudent to be certain before we open the gates.”

  Both men agreed to this, and Rob slowly climbed the ladder, Edeva a step behind him. When they reached the tower, she situated herself near the low wall by an arrow notch, where she could not be seen, but from where she could advise Rob on what to say.

  “Identify yourselves, and state your business with the manor of Oxbury,” Rob called out to the leader of the force.

  “My name is Ralph of Bourges, and I come on behalf of Lord William, king of England and duke of Normandy.’

  “The king!” Rob turned to speak to Edeva. “Of course we must let them in.”

  “Nay, nay,” she hissed. “Ask him if he has any document identifying him as the king’s man.”

  Rob did so. Edeva could hear the arrogance in the man’s voice as he responded. “Of course I have documents identifying me. But they are packed away on one of the sumpter ponies. If you will let us in, I will have a man get them out and show you.”

  “Tell him we will see the documents first,” Edeva said. Rob regarded her with dismay. ’Twas clear he was not used to arguing with men who gave him orders. “Tell him,” she insisted.

  “My lord,” Rob began, “there have been troubles here, and we must be cautious. If it so please you, we would see the document ere we open the gates.”

  “Nay, it does not please me!” the man shouted. “I was told this manor was firmly under the control of one of the king’s men, but it appears that Norman authority has yet to be established. William will be most displeased to learn of this. Indeed, he may well rescind the grant of this property after such a display of defiance! Tell me, sir knight, what will Lord Brevrienne do when he returns and finds that through your foolishness, he has lost Oxbury?”

  Rob shot Edeva a stricken look, and from the ladder, she heard Osbert call out, “Good God, lady, we must let them in!”

  Edeva drew a deep breath. Bourges’s threats and his refusal to show his credentials convinced her that he was up to some trickery. But how could she persuade Rob and Osbert? Somehow, she must contrive it so Bourges revealed he was not truly acting on the king’s behalf.

  “Tell him that we will meet him halfway,” Edeva said. “That you will send a man out to discuss this matter face-to-face.” When Rob looked skeptical, she added, “Certainly, that is not an unreasonable request. If the man has nothing to hide, why would he refuse?”

  Rob thought on this, and then turned back to the ramparts. “Although I’m certain you speak the truth, Bourges,” he called down, “I must follow the orders given to me by Lord Brevrienne. To break the stalemate, I will come out to you.”

  “As you will,” Bourges’s voice was harsh with contempt. Edeva saw Rob’s jaw tighten.

  “You are right, lady,” he said. “Something is not right here. This man’s rudeness alarms me. I cannot think the king would employ one such as him on a peaceful mission.”

  “You’re going out to meet him?” Edeva asked.

  “Yea, ’tis the only way. If he fails to produce a missive from the king, we will know Bourges plays us false.”

  “But I fear for you. You are barely recovered from your wound, and now you go to meet a man who may be a deadly enemy.” Edeva’s insides twisted with anxiety. She was fond of Rob. If anything happened to him, she would be wracked with remorse.

  “’Tis time I quit my sickbed and acted as a soldier, lady.”

  Edeva nodded, reminding herself that the man was a knight, trained to face death on a daily basis. Yet, as Rob climbed down the ladder and motioned for the guards to open the gate to let him pass, she wondered how she would ever explain to Jobert if the sweet-faced young knight was hurt or killed.

  She moved closer to the edge of the tower so she could see over it to watch the scene below. Foreboding afflicted her as she beheld the mass of armed men crowded together on the trackway. With their mail gleaming like fish scales and the points of their lances sticking up like prickly spikes, the Norman force reminded her of some hideous creature about to ravage Oxbury.

  She told herself that she had once viewed Jobert and his men the same way, but the choking dread would not leave her.

  Rob walked out to meet the leader of the force. His sword was sheathed, to show he went in peace. As he approached Bourges, the knight climbed from his mount and strode to meet him.

  Edeva could not hear what they said to each other. She held her breath, praying that Rob would be careful, not the easygoing soldier who had once guarded her so carelessly.

  Bourges gestured that Rob should follow him back to the rear of the train where the packhorses waited, stamping their feet in-the cold. Edeva knew a momentary sense of relief. Mayhap the man did have a missive from the king after all. They might have worried for naught.

  When they were halfway down the line of soldiers, Bourges suddenly shouted, “Seize him.” The two nearest knights wheeled their horses, pinning Rob between them. Within seconds, the rest of the army began to move into battle formation.

  They were going to be attack
ed! Edeva felt as if her legs would give out beneath her, and she fought the urge to grab helplessly for the edge of the rampart. Without Alan or Rob to give orders, she was in charge of the palisade’s defense. Mother of God, she knew nothing about this sort of warfare!

  She dashed down the ladder, hoping Osbert had some idea of what to do. By the time she reached the bottom, she had thought of a plan of her own. “Barricade the gate!” she yelled. “And give the order for the archers to prepare to fire!”

  Like the good soldier he was, Osbert immediately echoed her orders in his booming voice. Then he turned back to her. “What’s happened?”

  “They have Rob, and it appears that they mean to charge the gate.”

  He regarded her only a second before cramming his helmet onto his head and drawing his sword. “The treacherous bastards!” he thundered. “By God, we’ll gut them all!”

  “Brevrienne, Brevrienne!” he bellowed, starting a chant that echoed through the palisade. Edeva watched in amazement as the Saxons gathered in the yard joined in.

  Then an arrow landed a few paces from the hall, and Edeva remembered the danger. “Get the children into the chapel!” she screamed. “The rest of you, pull out the water barrels and be ready to put out fires!”

  The Oxbury archers shot hail after hail of arrows, trying to prevent the Norman force from getting near enough to attack the palisade directly. The invaders returned fire, loosing arrows dipped in pitch and set ablaze.

  At first the enemy’s fiery arrows fell harmlessly to the ground, then one landed on the thatch of the stables and the battle was on.

  Within moments, it seemed that everywhere Edeva looked, there was a fire. She joined the rabble of shouting servants and took her place in one of the lines of people passing buckets of water from the cisterns to the fire.

  Time passed in a blur. Edeva’s eyes burned from the smoke, her throat felt raw. How long could they keep this up? she wondered. Even if they kept the palisade from burning down, there were other threats. Bourges and his force could easily use a battering ram to break down the gate. Once inside, what would they do?

  There was pause in the action as the fire line shifted to meet a new threat. Edeva stopped for breath and reached down to feel for the dagger strapped to her ankle. She would not die easily, of that they could be certain! She would fight for her life, and that of the life beginning inside her.

  She’d known that morning, when she vomited for the third day in a row, that she was carrying Jobert’s child. The awareness filled her with awe and joy—and now that all their lives were threatened, with a fierce will to survive.

  The blaze threatening the tannery was close to the water supply, and Edeva took the opportunity to leave the fire line and seek out Osbert. Mayhaps he would know what to do, how to defend the palisade from the next assault.

  When she reached the gate, a begrimed soldier met her. “They’re leaving,” he told her exultantly.

  “All of them?” she asked.

  “Yea, the whole force.”

  Edeva climbed the ladder to see for herself.

  Indeed, the enemy appeared to be in retreat. But unlike the young knight, she did not believe it reason to celebrate. Men like that did not ride away simply because their first attack was thwarted.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “Christ’s bones!” Hamo exclaimed. “This is hopeless! I doubt the king himself could find a room in London this night”

  Jobert nodded grimly. Since arriving in the city, they’d found it even more crowded than last time. “We might as well return to the others and tell them we must camp outside the city walls,”

  “At least now we do not have to worry about what to do with the Saxon prisoners while we wait for an audience with the king,” Will said cheerfully.

  The rest of them glared at the squire. After the harrowing night just passed, none of them relished sleeping on the frozen ground.

  “With luck, I will get in to see William quickly,” Jobert said. “In fact, I will go to Westminster now and see if I might have a word with the king ere he has his evening meal.”

  “Who goes with you and who returns to join the others?” Hamo asked.

  Jobert regarded his men thoughtfully. He misliked splitting up his forces further. If there were a spy among them, this was likely when the man would act “Hamo, Giles, Fulk—you will come with me. The rest of you go back and join the others waiting with the wain.”

  “Must we keep the prisoners fettered?” Will asked. “They have already proven they respect their oath to you, and they would be more comfortable if they were freed.”

  “With their obvious Saxon blood, it is for their own protection that we maintain the appearance that they are prisoners. If they were allowed to roam free, some passing Norman might think to make sport of them.”

  Will looked downcast, and Jobert suspected the squire had formed some sort of friendship with young Alnoth. The two of them were of an age, and ignoring the contrast between the Saxon’s fair hair and Will’s dark curls, of similar build and appearance.

  Jobert and his escort wearily mounted their horses once more and set off for Westminster.

  The abbey was also more crowded than last time they visited. Jobert knew a sinking feeling as he observed the noisy throng stationed at the entrance to the building where the king resided. Without Girard’s influence, they might wait days for an audience.

  Fortunately, Jobert recognized the knight stationed at the door. “Well met, Warrene of Toscny,” he greeted him. “I see you’ve risen high. The king’s personal guard, are you now?”

  “Brevrienne! Yea, I am sworn to William’s service, and ’tis not a bad sort of duty. The food is better than average, the women plump and accommodating.” The knight winked merrily.

  “And some power comes with the duty, I’ll wager. No doubt you have your say in who gets in to see the king.”

  “Ah, I see now. You mean to use your good will with me to get an audience.”

  “’Tis not a frivolous matter. William charged me a fortnight ago to subdue the rebel Saxons in the area of my fief. I can report to him that I have done that. Of a certes, he will be pleased to learn that at least my portion of Wiltshire is securely in Norman hands.”

  “He will at that. There is rumor of trouble in the southwest. Though he keeps court here until Easter, when spring comes, the king marches into battle once again.” Warrene scowled. “What ails these English, that they cannot see when they are beaten? The Londoners submitted easily enough. Why do so many others resist?”

  “The Londoners grow rich off William’s troops, but for the other Saxons who have lost their lands and livelihoods, Norman conquest is a disaster. Even if they surrender and submit to the lord who now holds their property, the best they can expect is to serve in his army. Wealthy noblemen have been reduced to landless knights, and they do not take kindly to their diminished station. Would you?”

  “Most likely not. Norman gain is Saxon loss, in truth. I had not thought of it from their side.”

  “Most Normans have not,” Jobert agreed. “I’m not certain I would have either if I was not smitten with a Saxon woman. She taught me that her people can be valuable allies.”

  Warrene grinned. “Is that how you secured your property then, with kisses and fond love words?”

  Jobert smiled back. “’Tis not so useless a method as you might think. Though men wield the power of the sword, I vow women are the cleverer ones. They find more subtle ways to enforce their will. Can any argue that Queen Matilda could not have the best of the king if she so wished it?”

  “Blessed Jesu, such thinking gives me the shivers! If I get you in to see William, will you cease such morbid philosophizing?”

  “I’ll not speak another word on it,” Jobert assured him.

  The anteroom to the king’s private chamber was filled to bursting. Knights, merchants, clerics—men of every ilk waited to argue their causes and request favors. Jobert took his place among them and considered w
hat he would say.

  He wished that the rest of the Saxon prisoners had not escaped. Although he expected no further trouble from them, he was not certain how William would see the matter. Mayhaps he could discreetly delete that detail from his report.

  The clerk called his name and he went in. The king was seated at a table, eating while he perused the pile of parchment set before him. A clerk sat to his right, pointing out some detail on a document.

  Jobert waited while the king finished his business. At last, William looked up, and mouth full from the capon leg he was gnawing on, nodded.

  “Your highness.” Jobert bowed low.

  “Do you bring me good news or ill?” William asked.

  “Good, my lord. The rebels harassing Oxbury have been captured. Among them are a boy and an old man who I have brought to you for judgment. Since these two aided me in the capture of the others, I forbore to hang them. In fact, with your permission, I would like to accept their oaths and offer them a place in my mensie.”

  William’s deep-set eyes narrowed. “You are willing to trust men who once rose up against you?”

  “You have been known to do such a thing, my lord.”

  “And mayhaps I have been overhasty at times.”

  Jobert hesitated. How far dare he go in arguing for Alnoth’s and Withan’s lives? “My lord, the men in question saved my life. I think I owe them something for that.”

  “And how did they save your life?”

  Jobert ignored his doubts and plunged ahead. “I thought to bring the rest of the rebels to you for judgment. There was an escape attempt on the way here, and I woke to find one of the prisoners with a knife at my throat. If the Saxon youth had not distracted the man so I could get away, I would not be alive to bring this matter before you.”

  William rose from his high-backed chair. “What happened to the man who tried to kill you?”

  “Dead, my lord.”

  “Were there others who also sought to escape?”

  “Yea, my lord.

  “And where might they be?”