His mother would own such adornments. Perhaps she could lend them to Rhosyn. Or, mayhaps the peddler would finally arrive and he could purchase some jewelry from him. And of course, they’d need fine fabric for her gown. He would not ask Rhosyn to sew it. That would be a waste of her skills. Elspeth or someone at the castle or in the village could do it. And the gown would need to be embroidered or ornamented in some way.
He recalled the lavish attire he’d seen when he went to London with his father to pay homage to the king for the honor of Higham and his father’s other properties. At court they favored rich gowns and tunics of silk, velvet and sarconet, adorned with intricate embroidery and trimmed with fur. If he took Rhosyn to London, he wanted her to look as beautiful as any woman there.
“It doesn’t appear they’ve made much progress on rebuilding the mill.” Baldwin jerked his head in the direction of the millpond. From a distance, William could see the frame of the structure was up but naught else. All his thoughts of London vanished and his chest tightened with dismay. He’d made it clear that rebuilding the mill was a priority. Had they at least gotten the millstone working again?
He would have to have a stern talk with Adam. He’d been very clear about what needed to be done. But even if Adam hadn’t insisted on rebuilding the mill, the villagers should have kept working on it anyway. Surely they knew it was important to having adequate food this winter.
When he reached the village, he considered seeking out the carpenter and finding out what was going on. But first, he decided to find the miller’s son, Ned, and see how he fared. The health of Ned, now the new miller, was at least as important as the mill itself.
As he rode through the village, people came out and stared. They looked as if they were seeing a ghost. He continued on until he reached the tanner’s cottage. As he dismounted, the tanner’s wife, Helewise, came out. The surprised look she gave him was similar to the rest of villagers. But then her face brightened. “Blessed Jesu, it’s not true! You’re not dead!”
“Dead?”
Helewise looked him up and down as if she could still not believe he was real. “We had word that you and your men were set upon in Wales, milord. That it was not certain if any of you had survived. A bloodbath, they said. Of course, we held out hope. It hardly seemed possible those crude barbarians, ill-equipped as they are, could have killed all of you.”
“Who delivered the grim tale?”
She shrugged. “Some knight. He rode directly to the castle. Hearne went to find out what was happening and came back with the news.”
William felt like he needed to sit down. Helewise must have seen his distress for she said, “Let me get you some buttermilk, milord. You look as if you need some refreshment.”
She went into the dwelling. While he was waiting for her, William puzzled on what she’d just told him. Who would have brought such a message? And what was their intent in doing do?
Helewise returned with an earthenware cup and handed it to him. William drank he buttermilk, which was rich and delightfully cool.
Again, Helewise guessed his thoughts. “We keep it in the river at night and the water chills it. I’m certain you’re here to enquire after Ned. I vow, he’s near mended. Amara did a fine job caring for him. Healer Rhosyn trained her well. Ned felt well enough to be on his own now.”
“I thought the fire had burned down the miller’s house.”
“Oh, aye. But young Maybelle and he…well you know how young people are. And he’s the miller now, someone of status. He’s staying with her family. But it’s only temporary, until you get back and can approve the match.”
William shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts. He’d come here to find out why the work on the mill was halted. “I gave orders that rebuilding the mill was a priority. But I see no workers there.”
“Sir Rollo insisted there were projects at the castle that needed the carpenter’s skills more. And then Hearne said it was time for plowing the fields that will be left fallow over the winter. Everyone has been busy with that.”
William tried to control his temper. “’Tis all fine and well to be planning for next year’s crop. But most of this year’s harvest has yet to be milled. Have you not considered that? We need the mill up and running or there will be no flour for bread this winter. And what the devil is Sir Rollo doing making the decisions? I left Sir Adam in charge.”
Helewise’s face fell. “That was a sad thing, milord. He was killed by the raiders. Took a swordblade to the lung. Amara and Hawise tried, but there was naught they could do to save him. Mayhaps Rhosyn could have done so, but I doubt it. He was in grievous shape when they got him back here.”
William closed his eyes. Adam was dead. How could that be? His grief was swift and intense, but he knew he could not deal with it now. He needed to discover how it had happened. He nodded stiffly to Helewise. “The raid. Tell me about the raid.”
“’Twas at night, as you said it would come, milord. Adam was on guard. I don’t really know what happened.” Her face grew disapproving. “Sir Rollo is not one to trouble himself with coming to the village and sharing news of what is happening. Not like you, milord,” she added quickly. “We heard about Sir Adam, of course, and that the whole cattle herd had been driven off at the same time.”
“The whole herd?”
“Aye, milord. Oh, and Adam wasn’t the only one who was hurt. Young Miles was also injured. Just cracked ribs, but it’s affected his breathing. Amara’s worried about him. ’Tis a good thing Rhosyn is back. Amara had the knights bring Miles here to the village so she could keep a better eye on him. He’s at Golde’s croft, since she has the room.”
Blow after blow. When would the shocks end? It was numbing. But not for long, his anger was gradually growing. The cursed Welsh! It must have been Cynan’s men. Biding their time. Waiting for their chance. And he’d given it to them when he made this foray to Cardiff.
What a fool he was. He could have sent Baldwin and a couple of other knights to get salt and the other supplies most urgently needed. Baldwin was more than capable of handling a trading expedition. But of course, William had wanted to buy furnishings for the castle, and a few luxury goods. He’d sought to get the castle back to being a fine, comfortable keep so he could impress his father, should he choose to visit.
Now he was paying for his prideful motives. Having a well-furnished bedchamber would do naught to assuage his father’s anger and disappointment over how William had bungled everything else. Two fine knights lost, three if Gervaise didn’t survive. The whole cattle herd gone. His authority usurped and all his orders defied. That worthless wretch Rollo in charge. What other damages had his fool cousin wrought? He’d have to go to the castle and find out.
Helewise touched his mailed arm. “But one good thing happened. Although I suppose it would have better if you’d been here. The peddler and wool trader arrived. We were able buy a few things. I’m sure those at the castle were also able to purchase some goods to make up for what Lord Roscales took. The peddler said he might come back, although he has many more stops to make before he goes to London to resupply.”
“That’s where he resupplies, in London? Not Cardiff.”
“Nay. He’s wary of the Welsh attacking.” Helewise suddenly looked past William at the troupe of nights behind him. “I don’t see the healer. Where is she? Did something happen to Rhosyn?” Helewise’s sun-burned face creased with worry.
“Rhosyn is well. But she had to stay in Wales for a time to tend a wounded man. But that’s another tale. And not one I have time to tell you now.”
He started to move away. Helewise followed him. “I’m very glad she was not hurt or something,” Helewise said. We’ve come to value Rhosyn’s skills. She taught Amara a great deal in a short time. And many of us credit her with saving young Ned’s life, even if there was naught to do for his father. And I suspect nearly every household in the village has gone to Rhosyn for medicine and advice about ailments at one time or another,
and been well-satisfied. And she did treat you when you were wounded, and look at you now, as fine and fit as ever.”
He’d forgotten how Helewise rambled. In the past, he’d usually tried to deal with her husband. In contrast, the tanner was a man of few words. William should probably have asked to talk to him instead of his wife. But then he might not have learned nearly as much about the villagers’ opinions. Helewise might ramble on, but she’d given him a wealth of information. A wealth.
But he had to get to the castle and find out what was going on. He inclined his head to Helewise. “I thank you for all the information you’ve given me. You’ve caught me up quite well.”
Helewise beamed. “Of course, milord. Happy to do. While I know there are a few people who don’t wish you well, to my thinking they’re stupid. Roscales never concerned himself with doings outside the castle. He took what he needed and ignored us the rest of the time. There were no raids while he was here, true. But it’s not like you had any control of that, is it? The raids might well have come anyway. That’s what I say when the matter is discussed.”
“Thank you for your support, Helewise, but now I truly must be away to the castle.”
“Of course, milord.” Helewise bowed to him.
William stalked back to where his men were waiting. Baldwin quirked an auburn brow. “Bad news, milord?”
William shook his head. “You cannot imagine.” He vaulted onto Trueheart. “We go to the castle now.” Once mounted, he said, “I want you to all put on your helms and be on alert.”
The knights stared him. Rob was the first one to blurt out the question. “To enter our own keep? What’s happened, milord?”
“I don’t know, Rob. But I intend to find out.”
The drawbridge was down and the portcullis up. And there were no signs of archers on the walls. But that didn’t mean anything. Their enemy this time wasn’t a typical one.
They rode into the bailey. The ostler and stableboys were waiting for them, having obviously been alerted to their arrival. Thomas rushed over to grab Trueheart’s bridle and the others hurried to help the other knights dismount.
“Milord. God be praised that it’s not true you were killed.”
William could hardly contain his impatience. “I need to know who brought the news.”
Thomas nodded. “’Twas one of Roscales’s men, milord. Name of Sir Remy. Said you and your men were set upon in Wales. A bloodbath. All of you killed. Of course, I always held out hope. It hardly seemed possible those crude barbarians, ill-equipped as they are, could have taken out all of you. But then, after Adam was killed by the raiders, it seemed more and more likely that you’d also met your demise. And no word came saying otherwise.”
“Where did this Sir Remy get this story? Did he say?”
“Some Welsh prince named Cyan ap Ifan.” He stumbled badly over the name.
“Did you not think it odd that one of Roscales’s men, someone who serves the man who lost Higham to me, would come here with news from Wales?”
“Well, we all know Sir Remy, milord. I didn’t see why he’d have any reason to lie. And we knew you were venturing into enemy territory on this journey. The Welsh are treacherous. I’ve heard tales of them, how they seek to injure a knight’s horse, and then when the man is down, they surround him and attack. Besides, sometimes greater numbers can prevail against men much more well-equipped and skilled. Especially in a surprise attack. That’s what Sir Remy thought it was. They fell on you when you were camped for the night.”
“We were never camped at night. We stayed at Llanternam Priory.”
“I did not know that, milord. Did not know much of your plans at all. Other than you meant to bring back supplies.” Thomas looked uneasy. As if he was slowly realizing he’d been taken in by a web of treachery and lies and was wondering if William would be angry.
But Thomas was guilty of naught but being too trusting. He’d believed Sir Remy because he knew him. Or thought he did.
This exchange confirmed for William that this wasn’t simply about Rollo trying to seize power. Nay, this was all part of a much bigger plot hatched by Roscales. It should not surprise him Roscales had done something like this. Maybe the man had come up with this scheme as soon as he heard he’d lost Higham. By stripping the castle, he might have thought it would force William to leave Higham to buy supplies. Then Roscales could swoop in and wreak havoc.
Or the real plan might have been to have William murdered. All Roscales had to do was get the Welsh to come raiding. Then when William was drawn out of the castle to fight off the raiders, arrange for a skilled archer to pick him off. That part had almost worked. If the bowman’s aim hadn’t been off, William would have died the day he foolishly decided to go swimming.
But why hadn’t Roscales come to seize the castle by now? Because he could not. He had no legal right and likely didn’t want to risk the wrath of King John. Instead, he would set up another man in his place. A puppet overlord. He wondered when Roscales had contacted Rollo. And how long Rollo had vacillated before betraying William. Not long at all, he imagined.
With Rollo in charge, all Roscales had to do was wait until everything fell to pieces. With William dead and the castle defenses, and everything else, in total disarray, Roscales could go to the king and petition him to restore the castle to him.
William doubted Roscales’s plan would work. More likely John would have confronted William’s father and insisted he take over Higham himself. Or found another loyal baron to give the demesne to. But you couldn’t blame Roscales for trying. It was probably his only chance to regain any real power.
The wretched bastard was probably somewhere in Wales right now sweating it out. His plan to overpower William and his men had failed. Twice. By now he would know William was alive and on his way here, and his clever plan was about to unravel.
Did Rollo know William was alive? Probably not. ’Twould be interesting to see what lies and excuses he would give to explain his part in things when confronted. William could hardly wait.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He went first to the barracks. When he arrived, it was clear Baldwin and the rest of the men who’d been with him in Wales had already shared what had happened there. The eyes of more than a dozen knights and squires regarded William with trepidation as he entered.
He glared at the group. “As you can see, I’m not dead.”
“But what were we to think, milord?” Crispin made a helpless gesture. “We’d had no news of you for days and then a knight arrives and tells us—”
“A knight? Not just any knight, but Richard Roscales’s man. Did it never occur to you to wonder why he was coming with news? A knight who serves the man who lost Higham to me? Did you not consider how my death, or simply the news of it, might benefit my predecessor?”
Guymond got up from the gaming board and faced him squarely. “Well, in fairness, milord, we weren’t sure what to think. It seemed far-fetched that everyone in your traveling party had been killed. But after all the raids the Welsh have made on Higham, it seemed quite possible you had encountered trouble. We thought word would come asking for ransom for the survivors. And we didn’t think Welsh raiders would kill Rhosyn, since she is Welsh herself, and a woman and a healer. We thought at least some message would come from her. We weren’t yet mourning you, milord, because we didn’t entirely believe the account to be true.”
“Why didn’t you send anyone to confirm the story?”
“It seemed risky to do so, milord. If the Welsh could kill or capture a whole troupe of knights, what might happen to a lone messenger?” Guymond spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Rollo, especially, urged against sending anyone. And with Adam dead, it seemed as if Rollo had the most authority. He is your cousin, milord.”
“Yea. Scheming, treacherous wretch that he is!”
Many of the men flinched at the fury in William’s tone. They weren’t used to seeing him in this sort of white hot rage.
“Where
is Sir Rollo?”
“Hard to say…” Robert began.
“I know!” boyish Hugh piped up.
“Show me.” William gestured for Hugh to go ahead of him. He followed the squire from the barracks and across the bailey to the keep. Up the stairs to the solar and then to the lord’s bedchamber. There Rollo and a very young girl, who William seemed to recall was named Egelina, lay sprawled naked on a newly-built bed. A flagon, two wine-splashed cups and a guttered candle on the table beside them suggested they had been there for some time.
The girl shrieked and made to cover herself. Rollo sat up and leisurely drew the sheet up to his waist. Then he faced William with an expression of shocked innocence. “William. Milord. We thought you were dead.”
“Dead, and easily replaced. By your own self. You had your chance at power, Rollo. And this is how you use it?” William gestured to the sordid scene, his expression harsh with disgust.
“Egelina and I were making plans. The castle badly needs a mistress, and she has the skills. And I needed time to decide what to do next. Whether to send a force into Wales to try to get the cattle herd back. As well as fetching your body, and that of the other men. So you could have a proper burial.”
“Oh, I’m quite certain you were making plans. But mostly you were waiting for orders from Roscales, is that not right? He’s your partner in this scheme.”
Rollo maintained his mask of guilelessness. “Roscales? Why would I have anything to do with him?” He shrugged. “None of this is of my doing, milord. I’m simply trying to make the best of a difficult situation.”
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