It was the first volley of words in what would hopefully not become a battle. Already, Henry was establishing his position but Curtis maintained his even manner. It would not do to become frustrated this early on.
“I have asked you here to discuss the de Shera brothers,” he said steadily. “I spent a good deal of last night speaking to them about their loyalties, Your Grace. You know that I do not want to see them harmed; they are good and true men. They are the Lords of Thunder, men to be admired and feared. I asked you to meet me here this morning because I want you to understand something – they did not support de Montfort out of a hatred of you. They supported de Montfort because they agreed with the man’s ideals. They, too, want a fair and just England for their children. There is nothing wrong with that.”
Henry wasn’t keen on accepting Curtis’ gentle explanation of the de Shera brothers. “Hmpf,” he grunted. “They have been a thorn in my side for nine years, Curtis. Nine years of their subversion and rebellion. Call it what you will, but that is what it boils down to – they are rebels and now their rebel leader is dead. I will have their fealty or I will wipe them from this earth.”
He was very plain about his position, without any kindness or tact leading up to his statement. He presented it clearly, for all to hear. There was no doubt he meant what he said and Curtis was careful in his reply.
“It is difficult to change a man’s ideals overnight, Your Grace,” he said. “Gallus and his brothers still believe in de Montfort’s principles. You cannot erase that with a wave of your hand. It will take time.”
Henry shook his head, now growing agitated. “Meanwhile, they openly rebel against me?” he demanded. “I will not have it, Curtis. You know I will not. They are powerful enough to pick up where Simon has left off and I cannot have that manner of threat against me. If you were in my position, would you tolerate it?”
Curtis was clear. “I would not,” he said firmly. “But I would also want to open a dialogue with them to understand what it is they want and what I can do to exist peacefully with them. They are strong men with good ideals, Your Grace. You need men like them. They have great hopes for the future of your country.”
Henry hissed. “It is my country,” he said. “They either serve me and my needs or they do not. There is no negotiation. Is that what you are trying to do? Negotiate for them?”
Curtis was coming to see that the king would not be swayed. He didn’t want to discuss a kinder, gentler rule and he was quite sure the de Shera brothers were rebels and nothing more. They were a threat, pure and simple, and that was how Henry would forever see them. They were so intertwined with Simon, and had been for years, that Henry couldn’t see them as anything else.
And that was a problem.
“I am not negotiating for them,” Curtis replied evenly. “I am simply telling you that men’s ideals do not change so swiftly. If you want these men to swear fealty, then you must give them something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps all they need is your assurance that you will listen to them in matters that affect them. Perhaps all they want is to know that you will consider their advice.”
Henry sighed heavily with frustration. He was glaring at Curtis but happened to catch sight of de Moray. He pointed at the man.
“You,” he said to Bose. “I sent you to relay my terms of their surrender. Did you do that?”
Bose stepped forward. “I did, Your Grace.”
“And?”
Bose glanced at Curtis before speaking; it wasn’t an easy answer he was about to deliver. “And they are men of strong ideals and convictions,” he said. “I believe that Lord Curtis’ suggestion is a good one – if you will only speak with them and give them assurances that you will listen to their advice and concerns, they may be willing to swear fealty.”
Henry’s jaw ticked. “You mean to tell me that you were unsuccessful in securing their surrender.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
Henry grunted with further displeasure. He turned away from Curtis and Bose, pacing the floor just as Chad had been doing minutes earlier. In fact, he caught sight of Chad, standing back with his cousins in the shadows, and jabbed a finger at him.
“Where is the de Shera heiress you took from Newington?” he demanded. “De Serreaux told me that you were able to remove her before he could get to her. Why did you do that?”
Chad was strong in the face of an angry king. He came forward, preparing to address his liege.
“Because it needed to be done, Your Grace,” he said.
“Who told you of my desire for the girl?”
“I heard rumor, Your Grace.”
“From whom?”
Chad would not reveal his source. “I cannot recall, Your Grace,” he replied. “I was half-drunk in a tavern in London when I heard the information. I do not recall who I heard it from.”
Henry scowled at him. “Do you think to lie to me?”
Chad shook his head. “Nay, my lord.”
“Was it de Moray who told you?”
“Was de Moray at that tavern? I do not recall, Your Grace.”
Henry was growing increasingly frustrated at Chad’s evasiveness. He jabbed a finger at him again. “Where is the girl?”
“Here, Your Grace.”
A soft, female voice came from the entryway and every man there turned to see a small, wrapped figure standing in the arched doorway. When she noticed the attention on her, she swiftly came forward into the light.
Chad, who had been stunned by the sound of the familiar voice, could hardly believe what he was seeing. What in God’s name is she doing here? He thought wildly. But when Alessandria began to move, he moved as well, bolting forward to intercept her before she could reach Henry.
“Aless!” he hissed, reeling with shock. “Why are you here?”
Alessandria gazed up into the face of the man she loved so well, feeling a lump form in her throat at the sight of him. It was a surprise. Thinking he’d been occupied elsewhere, she had congratulated herself on being able to flee Isenhall without running into him. She’d stolen a horse from the stables and slipped from the gates, losing herself in the chaos of the de Lohr army outside of the walls before taking the road north into Coventry.
Alessandria had spent those few short miles to Coventry telling herself that this was the right thing to do, that turning herself over to Henry would solve all of their problems and that he would no longer be inclined to attack Isenhall. But seeing the armed men in the cathedral, and the unexpected appearance of Chad, had her shaken.
She was doing the right thing… wasn’t she?
“I did not know you would be here,” she whispered tightly.
Chad looked at her in confusion and disbelief, reaching out to grab her arms. “What do you mean?” he demanded softly, urgently. “Answer my question; what are you doing here?”
Alessandria put her hands to his face, touching the stubble. He was upset and her resolve to do the right thing was weakening the longer she looked at him.
“Please let me go,” she whispered. “You must let me go.”
Chad had no idea what she was talking about. “Let you go?” he repeated, aghast. “What does this mean? Why must I let you go?”
Gently but firmly, Alessandria managed to pull herself from his grasp, dodging him when he made another swipe for her. She rushed forward, towards the king and his men.
“My name is Alessandria de Shera,” she said. “I am the lady you wanted as a hostage. You sent your men for me at Newington Priory but Sir Chad took me instead.”
Henry was looking at the lady with great curiosity. “My lady,” he greeted. “This is unexpected, to say the least.”
Before he could say anything more, Chad came up behind Alessandria, quickly, and Henry was forced into action. Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the group of his men, and when Chad tried to push through, de Serreaux and d’Vant were there to stop him with their swords drawn. St
eel flashed in the weak morning light and the message was clear.
Finally, they had their hostage.
Immediately, the mood of the meeting plummeted as the silver sword was unsheathed. More swords were coming forth, including Lespada in the hand of Davyss. That singing of steel against leather echoed against the walls and men began shuffling around as Chad tried to push forward to get to Alessandria, who cried out when she saw all of the weapons coming forth. She was immediately terrified.
“Nay!” she cried. “No fighting! Please, no fighting! I have come to turn myself over to the king so that he will no longer attack Isenhall. Now you have what you wanted, Your Grace; you have me. I will willingly surrender to you if you will now please leave my friends and family in peace.”
So her silly, naïve plan was shouted for all to hear. Henry still had a grip on her and she also had a grip on him, beseechingly. He could see his Six preparing for a battle, with weapons out, and the soldiers he had brought also had weapons drawn. Curtis de Lohr, his sons, as well as Bose and Chad had their swords out and the battle promised to be quite epic.
But as Henry looked around, he also noticed something else, something very odd – Davyss and Hugh were standing with de Lohr and de Moray. He could see the wicked gleam of Lespada in Davyss’ hand and it took him a moment to realize that, for once, the weapon was not lifted in his defense. It was lifted against him. Suddenly, it all came quite clear to Henry and, still gripping Alessandria, he waved an arm at the group.
“Cease!” he roared, shoving through his armed men, dragging Alessandria with him. There was an expression of incredible disbelief on his features as he looked at Davyss and Hugh. “What are you two doing? Do you actually think to stand with de Lohr?”
Davyss didn’t lower his weapon. “Aye, Your Grace,” he said evenly. “I had hoped it would not come to this but given the choice between defending you and standing with my brothers and friends, I am sorry to say that I will stand with them. You ordered me to march on Isenhall to test my loyalties, Your Grace, and I did. If you did not want to know the answer to that question, then mayhap you should not have asked it.”
Henry was astounded. “You would stand against me?” he was clearly shocked. “How can you do this, Davyss? You belong to me, do you hear? You are mine!”
Davyss remained in position. “I support you in every endeavor, Your Grace,” he said. “I will fight and kill and die for you. But if you force me to make a choice between you and the House of de Lohr and, ultimately, the House of de Shera, then you must understand I will choose to stand with my brothers. It is as simple as that.”
Henry stared at him, his face growing red. “I knew it,” he hissed. “I have always known you were a de Montfort at heart, simply waiting for the moment to take a stand against me. Don’t you know that? Everyone knows you are the bastard son of Simon de Montfort because the man seduced your mother those years ago. I was waiting for you to show your true loyalties and now you have. It is bred into you to hate me.”
Davyss didn’t flinch at the mention of the rumor that had long been about, a rumor that he had known, from his mother’s own lips, to be truth. But he would not confirm or deny such a thing. It was, in fact, of little matter. Perhaps he was of de Montfort’s loins but he was a de Winter by name, and that gave him all of the power behind it. Before he could answer the king, Curtis spoke quietly.
“I was hoping it would not come to this, Your Grace, but it seems as if it has,” he said. “In your hatred and determination to eliminate the House of de Shera, you are, in fact, attacking a family that is kin to the House of de Lohr. I cannot and will not let you raze Isenhall and destroy the Lords of Thunder, not while there is breath left in my body. Therefore, know this; if you choose to follow this path, to destroy the House of de Shera because you feel they are a threat to you, in doing so you are forcing me to take sides. Since I will not see you destroy my nephews, you should know that I intend to stand with them. I will defend them to the death, as will my cousin, Daniel. Canterbury will also join the fight. Is this in any way unclear, Your Grace? Do you understand the path you are choosing and the warlords you will turn against you?”
Henry still had a grip on Alessandria, his face turning red with rage. “Then you would betray me also?” he said through clenched teeth. “The House of de Lohr has always stood with the crown. Will you throw that allegiance to the wind to protect rebels?”
Curtis shook his head faintly. “Nay,” he said. “But I would do it to protect family. That is the only thing that matters, Henry. Protecting one’s family from a threat and you are, indeed, a threat. I am not sure what paranoia and hatred has brought you to this moment in time, but if we all band against you, you will not win. You will be lucky to survive. I can raise such an army against you that you would be destroyed before you realized what had happened. It is a very dangerous and very foolish stance you are taking against the House of de Shera. I would strongly suggest you gather your men and leave and simply forget about them for now. If you leave them in peace, then I will let you leave without any further action and my loyalty to you will remain intact. But if you choose to be the aggressor, then know I will act in kind. And I have a bigger army than you do. You will not walk away from this a free man, I promise you.”
It was as deadly a threat as any of them had ever heard, coming from a man who, indeed, had the power to make it so. Chad, Bose, Davyss, Hugh, Chris, William, and, finally, Curtis were ready to make good on that threat – that much was clear. They were ready, willing, and able to meet Henry in a battle that would constitute one of the greatest battles in the annals of Henry’s rule. Once-allies of the king were now facing off against him.
The moment of truth was at hand.
The air in the cathedral was as brittle as ice, ready to crack at any moment. One move, by any of them, and the battle for their lives would begin. Therefore, no one moved. It was a staring game, and a waiting game, waiting to see what Henry would do next. It was all up to him now. Would he concede?
Would he fight?
“Please,” Alessandria’s soft voice filtered up through the tension. “Your Grace, you have me now. You do not need to fight them. You may use me for a hostage to ensure my cousins’ good behavior. I am prepared for a life of confinement.”
Henry looked at Alessandria as if suddenly remembering that he had hold of her. It was clear that a thought was occurring to him, for his brow rippled, but it was a thought that none of them were prepared for. Swiftly, Henry snatched a dagger from de Serreaux’s belt and immediately put it to Alessandria’s neck. He looked straight at Chad.
“Drop your sword or the woman you want to marry dies,” he said flatly. “All of you, drop your swords or she dies. Is that clear?”
It was a horrific turn of events, one that had the de Lohr allies uncertain and sickened. Certainly, they couldn’t let Henry kill the girl in cold blood but they couldn’t drop their weapons, either. But they weren’t in love with the girl.
Chad was.
His sword clattered to the floor.
“Please, Your Grace,” Chad pleaded. “Do not hurt her. I will stand with you if that is what you wish, but do not hurt her. I beg you.”
Curtis, seeing that his cousin was willingly conceding, put out a hand to try and stop him. “Chad, nay,” he hissed. Then, he looked at Henry. “Is that what you have become, Your Grace? A murderer of weak women? And this is the man I am expected to swear my fealty to? It is a disgusting prospect.”
It was a terrible insult to Henry, who only gripped the dagger tighter. Alessandria yelped when the tip poked her tender skin, sending a bright red stream of blood down her neck.
“I am your king,” Henry hissed. “You de Lohrs have sworn fealty to me in theory but the truth is that you have twisted that fealty to suit your whims over the years. You have all disobeyed me at one time or another, but I will not stand for that any longer. Worcester, if you believe standing against me is what you must do, then I say again that I am y
our king and for that reason alone, you will support my wishes at all times or I will strip you of everything. I will strip all of you of whatever lands or titles or possessions you have, and that includes de Winter and de Moray as well. Is defending the Lords of Thunder worth losing everything?”
Curtis cocked his head. “Ask yourself that same question,” he said. “Is your quest to destroy the Lords of Thunder worth losing your most powerful warlords? Because that is what will happen, Henry. You will be the loser in this far more than we will and you know it.”
He was correct. Henry knew it; they all knew it, but Henry’s sense of pride had him unable to concede the point. His sense of vengeance seemed to reign above all else, even in this instance, and it was difficult for him to realize that what Curtis was saying was true. But with his last wispy shreds of common sense, he began to understand the severity of what was about to happen. He didn’t want to lose de Winter and de Lohr and de Moray; God help him, he didn’t. Was having their loyalty worth more than seeing the House of de Shera destroyed?
The choice was his.
“I cannot have open rebellion against me,” Henry finally said. “If you were in my position, you would not have a threat against you, a threat to your rule, and that is what the House of de Shera represents. They are a threat to me and my rule. How can I simply ignore that?”
“If we promise not to participate in any action against you, will you leave us in peace?”
The booming voice was not Curtis’. It came from the doorway and, once again, everyone turned with surprise to see three big men standing in the entry. The day was beginning to dawn outside, shades of purple and blue illuminating the silhouettes of three unarmed knights.
Their appearance was unexpected. Perhaps it was even unwanted. But there was no turning them away, not now.
The Lords of Thunder had arrived.
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