Soon after they delved into the leek soup and fresh bread the innkeeper offered, Rob came bursting in. “They have been here and have gone on to the priory. It seems they stopped and watered their horses at one of the farmer’s wells. While they were there, they inquired as to where they could find a priest, and the farmer advised them to seek out the holy men of Wherwall Abbey.
“A priest!” Hamo exclaimed. “What need do they have of a priest?”
Frightening thoughts went through Jobert’s mind. Edeva was hurt and her captors sought a man learned in the healing arts, as many priests were. Rob’s explanation horrified him even more: “They said they needed a priest so that the Norman lord could wed the lady traveling with them.”
Jobert put down his chunk of bread. He shook his head, willing himself to believe his own words, “She would not wed any other man unless they threatened her. And if she was coerced, the marriage will not be valid.”
The men were silent. Hamo rose and said, “If they passed by here only recently, ’tis possible the ceremony has yet to take place. You know how tedious holy men are. I doubt that they could perform a wedding without praying over the matter for hours beforehand.”
Jobert got to his feet. “Let us go. The priory is only a mile or two from here.”
The porter at the priory gate refused to admit them at first, grumbling about “hordes of soldiers disrupting a place of peace and refuge.” He finally agreed to allow Jobert and Rob to enter, as long as they left their weapons behind.
Jobert felt naked and vulnerable without his sword as they followed the brown-clad brother to the chapel. If there was trouble, how would he fight? He had made up his mind to claim Edeva even if she appeared unwilling. He’d made her love him once, he could do so again. If only he could have time alone with her. Time to remind her of what was between them.
He heard the sound of monks chanting prayers as he approached the Saxon-styled chapel. His body grew tight. What if he was too late? What if Edeva was already bound by vows to another?
Rob opened the arched door and they went in. Candles lit the high-beamed building with wavering light. Rows of monks stood praying along the length of the nave. At the far end of the long, narrow building, near the altar, stood a knight and a lady.
Jobert waited motionless as his eyes made out details in the dim light. Then he recognized the rich bronze of the woman’s gown and the glint of golden braids beneath her veil. He strode forward. “Stop, priest,” he called out. “This woman cannot wed this man. Lord William, king of England and duke of Normandy, has given her to me!”
The knight and the woman turned. The monks paused in their singing. For a long moment, the church was silent. Then Edeva picked up her skirts and dashed toward Jobert. “You’re alive! Thank God!” She threw herself into his arms, near knocking him down.
“Oh, Edeva, my love,” he murmured into her hair as he found his balance. “’Tis true, the king has agreed to let me wed you. Let us do it now, before something else comes between us.”
She pulled away, her eyes wide. “Bourges,” she whispered.
Jobert held her close to his body as the knight at the altar moved toward him. Although Jobert had no weapon, he had no intention of relinquishing Edeva. Not while there was a breath in his body.
“Brevrienne?” The man stopped a few paces away and surveyed Jobert carefully.
“Yea, I am Brevrienne.”
The man nodded. He glanced briefly at the priest behind him, then said, “As God as my witness, I never meant you harm. Valois forced me into this thing. He made it seem a simple matter. That you would meet with an accident in London and all I had to do was claim your demesne.” He paused, and when he continued, his voice sounded desperate, “He is my liegelord. How could I refuse him?”
“Did it not trouble your conscience at all that he meant to murder me?” Jobert said coldly.
“He said he had good cause. That you had ruined his daughter and then abandoned her.”
“That is not true. Even if it was, do you think for that I should have my throat cut in some filthy London alley and my property stolen?”
Bourges gestured helplessly. “He is not the first father to seek such brutal vengeance.”
“Valois is not some doting parent who seeks redress for his daughter’s shame,” Jobert ground out. “Let me tell you the facts, Bourges. My relationship with Damaris de Valois was chaste and innocent. She chose to enter a nunnery because she believed it to be her true calling, not because she was shamed. If I am guilty of anything, it is for exposing Valois for the greedy, scheming wretch he is. His anger arises not out of concern for his daughter, but from having his plans for a profitable marriage alliance come to naught!”
Bourges digested this a moment, then ran a hand over his balding pate, looking near as weary as Jobert felt. “I beg your pardon, Brevrienne. I knew none of this.”
“Of course, he knew nothing!” Another man stepped from near the altar and spoke in a harsh, mocking voice. “The fool was merely a pawn of my lord Valois.”
He addressed Bourges. “Surely you did not really think that Sir Robert would let you keep the Saxon heiress? Hah! You were to be eliminated after Valois had convinced the king that no Saxon, and especially a female one, could be trusted. Valois intended to claim the lands himself and put the wench in a nunnery.” The man’s dark, narrow eyes raked Edeva. “Of course, myself, I think that would be a waste of luscious English quim. I’d much rather see her set up as a harlot in London.”
Jobert felt Edeva tense in his arms, and he guessed this man was the one he must deal with. But how could he do so without a weapon?
Abruptly, Edeva began to swoon, and Jobert turned all his attention to her. “Let me fall,” she whispered as he leaned near. She crumpled to the ground. Jobert immediately called for someone to get water, and then knelt beside her. She pressed a dagger into his hand. “Be careful,” she whispered.
Jobert picked her up and started to carry her toward the door. Halfway there, he felt a weapon prick into his back. “I’ll take the woman, Brevrienne.”
Jobert turned slowly and faced the dark-eyed man, who held a wicked-looking sword pointed at Jobert’s unprotected throat. “There will be no wedding today,” the man said. With his free hand, he gestured for Jobert to release Edeva.
Jobert slowly set Edeva on her feet, keeping his hand holding the knife hidden behind her skirts.
“You cannot do this!” The priest spoke for the first time, his voice shaking with outrage. “This is a holy place, and I claim sanctuary for all gathered here. If you take the woman by force, you will live your life cursed and condemned!”
The dark-eyed man laughed. “Think you that I am not already cursed and condemned? I have no soul, you stupid priest. Now,” he added to Jobert, “give the woman to me.”
Edeva took a step toward the man. Jobert’s fingers itched to use the knife, but he held back. He must take this man by surprise, or the chance of failure was too great.
“You killed the priest,” Bourges spoke suddenly, as if the realization had just come to him. “’Twas not the Saxons after all, it was you.”
The man turned toward Bourges, a sinister smile on his face. “Of course. I took pleasure in ending Father Reibald’s miserable exist... ”
The last word ended in a scream as Jobert’s dagger sank deep into the man’s neck. He made another gruesome noise, and then collapsed. Edeva backed away from his twitching body and Jobert heaved a huge sigh of relief.
“Appalling!” the priest cried, striding towards them. “Simply appalling. The man might have been a villain, but you need not have murdered him in our church! I doubt your immortal soul can survive this horrible sin!”
“I will take my chances with the Almighty,” Jobert said. He groped his way to the church’s smooth whitewashed wall and leaned against it. “I have found God to be more merciful than men with sharp blades at my throat.”
Edeva came to him and wrapped her arms around him. �
�Oh, Jobert,” she whispered. “Do not anger the priest. He has yet to perform our wedding.”
It took some coercion from both Jobert and Bourges, as well as some outright begging from Edeva, but the prior finally agreed to conduct the ceremony.
“At least I am properly attired,” Edeva said as she took her place beside Jobert at the altar.
“For all my grimy, travel-stained clothes, I have had a bath this day,” Jobert retorted.
“A bath.” Edeva looked at him, eyes luminous. “I believe that is the first thing I wish to do when we arrive at Oxbury.”
“Share a bath with me?”
“Yea, that is exactly it. A long, leisurely, very hot bath.”
Jobert heaved a sigh. “’Twould be paradise.”
The prior cleared his throat. “This is a sacred rite I am about to perform. You should strive to cleanse your mind of all base and sinful thoughts ere I begin.”
“Mmmm,” Edeva whispered. “’Tis not your mind I wish to cleanse, milord.”
“Hush,” Jobert whispered back. “We are in disgrace enough without your lewd thoughts.”
Edeva giggled. The priest cleared his throat again, frowning more severely.
When the ceremony was over, Jobert and Edeva shared one brief kiss, then parted, she to go to the guest quarters for women visitors, he, the one for men.
Jobert sat down to a plain meal in the refectory where Hamo tried to console him regarding his celibate wedding night. “It’s not as if you haven’t sampled the woman’s charms already,” the knight said. “Tired as you are, you might even have trouble performing.”
“I would not have trouble performing with Edeva unless I was unconscious or dead,” Jobert asserted. “For that matter, one time when I was out of my head with fever from my shoulder wound, we actually...” He paused, realizing that every man at the table was regarding him with amused curiosity.
Jesu, what had come over him—he’d grown as loose-tongued as Edeva!
He cleared his throat. “The soup’s tolerable. At least it’s warm. Although I prefer Beornflaed’s choice of seasonings.”
Hamo guffawed and the other men suppressed chuckles. The light mood vanished as the door opened and Bourges entered. He looked around uneasily. “I do not know if I am welcome here, but I would offer an explanation for my actions if you would hear one.”
Jobert gestured with a crust of bread that the knight should seat himself.
The older man took a place at the table and drank deeply from a cup of wine before speaking. He said, “They say there is no greater fool than an old fool, and I am one. I knew Valois to be treacherous and corrupt, yet I listened to him.”
“Tell us of his plan,” Jobert said. “I would know how the pieces fit.”
Bourges nodded. “I’ve told you the story he gave me regarding your treachery with his daughter. He said you would meet with your death while in London, and I was to go to Oxbury and take over the manor, then wed the Saxon heiress in order to seal my claim.”
Bourges heaved a sigh. “But there were problems from the beginning. Your men would not give in without a fight, and there were more of them than expected. I realized that if we engaged in battle with other Normans, we would be in violation of the king’s orders. I had to think of a way to get the woman to come with us without bloodshed.
“But Henry—may God assoil him—kept pushing me to attack. He told me that the Saxons had killed the priest and that was sufficient excuse to storm the palisade. Although I did not know for certain that Henry was a spy for Valois, my instincts told me not to trust him. Instead, I remembered Valois had said that the Saxon woman was heir to other property besides Oxbury, and I decided to use that as a means to convince her to come with me.”
“You mean there is some truth to that?” Jobert asked.
“I believe so. Although I do not know how Valois knew of it.”
“And was the promise of wealth the means you used to convince Lady Edeva to wed with you?” Alan spoke the question. The other men looked around uneasily, as if unwilling to meet Jobert’s gaze.
“Nay,” Bourges answered, “’Twas the fact that she thought Lord Brevrienne was dead. She agreed to wed me if I would use her wealth to gain revenge against Valois. In truth, I half suspected Valois would find me inconvenient, and that I might have to choose between my own life and loyalty to my liegelord. I agreed to her bargain.”
Jobert felt a self-satisfied smile spread across his face. “So, you see, Alan, a woman can be as loyal and trustworthy as a man.”
“My apologies, sir,” Alan said. “Mayhaps it is my own circumstances that make me doubt all women.”
“What circumstances are those?” Bourges asked.
Hamo clapped Alan on the back. “Fornay has a tendre for a certain Saxon wench, but she flirts and dallies with every man but him. Daily Alan must swallow the bitter gall of jealousy as fair Wulfget bestows her smiles elsewhere.”
“Wulfget!” Rob exclaimed. “I did not know you still fancied her. You always appear so sour-faced and grim whenever you are in her company!”
“Why should I not seem grim? The woman is a fickle, heartless creature who finds pleasure in torturing me!”
“Wulfget—heartless?” Rob got to his feet. “I’ll not hear you disparage her name so cruelly. She is the kindest, the most patient of maidens.”
“As you should know, after all these weeks of shamelessly exaggerating your wounds so she would fuss over you.”
“A belly wound is a grave thing. I might have died!”
“I wish you had, you bastard! If you were gone, Wulfget might finally notice me!”
Jobert stood. “Sweet Jesu, you are like two dogs fighting over a juicy bone! If the wench is causing this much trouble between the two of you, I vow neither one of you shall have her. Indeed, I’m of a mind to marry her off to some man outside of Oxbury. How would you like that, you half-witted fools!”
The two knights immediately looked contrite. “I did not mean to provoke you, Alan,” Rob said. “In truth, although I am fond of Wulfget, I had not thought of marrying with her. If you wish to win Wulfget’s favor, I’ll not oppose your suit. But be advised—the way to woo a woman is not to mope and curse around her, but rather to be lighthearted and pleasant when in her company.”
“I try, but when I see her with you, the pretty words I have thought of turn to vinegar in my mouth.”
“Have you spoken to Edeva about the matter yet?” Jobert asked. “I think she would help, if you asked her.”
“How can I beg a boon of Edeva after all the awful things I have said about her?” Alan asked.
“Edeva is ever generous-hearted. She knows you did not mean them,” Jobert answered, smiling.
They all sat down and began to eat again. Jobert spooned the warm soup into his mouth, then took a mouthful of bread. The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him. “Wake up, Brevrienne. You’ll sleep better lying down, even on a monk’s hard pallet.”
He was vaguely aware of being half-carried out the doorway and through the snowy yard to the guest house. Then he sank down on the straw-filled pallet and knew no more.
TWENTY-SEVEN
In the morning, Jobert thanked the prior and then went to the abbey gate where his men waited with Edeva. Jobert gave her a quick kiss, and then drew away. ’Twould be torture enough to ride pillion for their long journey. He did not need to stoke his lust any higher.
He helped her onto the horse, and then climbed up behind her. As they left the priory and started down the frost-covered road, he heard her heave a sigh. “Are you weary, love?” he asked.
“Nay, merely relieved. These last few days have been so trying. You cannot know what it was like to think you were dead.”
He leaned close to murmur in her ear. “Yea, I can. The thought of losing you filled me with a dread so great I could scarce go on.”
She reached back to caress his cheek. “But now all our foes are vanquished. No one will take Oxbury from you as
long as William lives.”
His jaw tightened. “Myself, I will not be satisfied until Valois is punished. He was behind all of this. If not for his treacherous plotting, so many would not have suffered.”
“But my brothers played a part—they kept the conflict alive.”
“In truth, I think they might have given up long ago if Father Reibald had not been giving them encouragement and supplies.”
“You think the priest used them to damage your claim to Oxbury?”
“Yea, I do. I think he convinced them to attack the palisade when we were in London.”
“And then the priest—and Golde—betrayed them.”
Jobert nodded. “Father Reibald wanted the rebels to be captured so I would hang them and further alienate you.”
“But it did not work.”
“Nay. And then he changed his plan to helping the prisoners to escape so they could kill me on the journey to London,”
“What?” Edeva turned on the horse, her eyes wide. “I did not know of this, Hamo told me after the wedding ceremony that Alnoth was safe and Beornwold, Gothic and the others had escaped. I did not know any of them tried to kill you.”
“That is mostly true. Alnoth is safe and Godric and his companions did flee. But Beornwold...” Jobert took a deep breath, wondering if he should say the words. If he told Edeva he had killed her brother, would the tender warmth between them vanish?
“Beornwold tried to cut my throat. I have no doubt that it was at the urging of Father Reibald.”
Edeva said nothing.
“I was able to twist out of his grasp before he did the deed, but I could not let him get away. I... I drew my own dagger and killed him.”
Edeva faced forward again, and the silence stretched between them. Jobert felt his throat swell with anguish. He could not argue that it was self-defense. Beornwold had been fleeing when Jobert cut him down. ’Twas pure instinct that made him throw that dagger.
Edeva spoke softly, “If I must choose, ’twould be your life I would preserve. Beornwold might be my brother, but he does not hold my heart as you do.”
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