A Bit of Heaven on Earth (8 page)

Berwyn’s mouth snarled as he hissed, “
You are a bastard!
Can you not understand? You are not of my blood. I loathe the very sight of you, for you remind me of that deceitful bitch and her deception. Get out. Get out!”

Not of Berwyn’s blood?

That meant his mother had lain with another man, before or soon after her marriage. Was this why she lost herself in prayer, day after day, trying to atone for such a powerful sin?

Gavin stumbled from the room, tripping over the sword left in the hallway. He ignored Homer’s attempts at growling. He stooped and slipped the sword into his hand. This was real, a sword in his hand, a fight to be won. Not the lies that spilled from his father’s lips. He hurried down the stairs, passing several servants now who’d been awakened by their argument. He saw pity in their eyes as they stared at him before they turned away wordlessly.

As he reached the bottom, he saw Eben, who’d put him on his first horse and taught him to ride. The stout servant locked strong fingers around Gavin’s arm.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

He pulled Gavin through the castle’s halls till they reached outside. Gavin sucked in the sweet night air, hoping it would clear his head. Eben urged him on, and within minutes he found himself inside the stables of Ashgrove.

He collapsed upon a pile of straw, his breathing harsh. Eben lit a lantern and pulled up a stool next to him. Under his cloak, Homer wiggled in protest. Gavin reached in and pulled the kitten from his sack. Homer scurried off into the darkness.

“Don’t talk, boy,” Eben grumbled in low tones. “Just listen.”

He stared at the servant, the homely face he’d known since his earliest memories, the man who’d taught him all he knew of animals. He nodded, wanting to hear why the world had gone mad.

“Your dear mother died nigh over two years ago, my lord. ‘Twas not but a few weeks after you left for France.” Eben shook his head sadly. “She was a true lady. All at Ashgrove do sorely miss her. With her passing, things changed.”

The servant studied him. Gavin saw the hesitation on his face. “Give me the truth, Eben, and all of it.”

Eben swallowed hard but continued. “Lord Berwyn gathered the servants when her body was discovered. She’d been poorly for some days. It surprised no one when he announced her death.

“But,” he added, “his next words startled everyone.”

He paused, and Gavin spoke. “Go on.”

“Lord Berwyn announced he would marry on the morrow, after Lady Gillian’s burial. He had her body placed far from where family should be buried, my lord. As if she were an outcast. Then he told us that you were not of his flesh and blood. That Lady Gillian deceived him for all these years and confessed on her deathbed. He would not stand for it, nor would he let you grace his presence ever again.”

In the stillness of the night, Eben’s words lingered. Gavin’s mind fought the numbing shock settling over it. He doubted his mother could behave in such a manner. More than likely, Berwyn wanted to please the new mistress of Ashgrove and allow her son to inherit the estate.

“We had standing orders if you ever turned up at Ashgrove again. You were to be struck down upon first sight.” Eben mopped his brow. “No one could do that, my lord. You are most beloved by your people and innocent in this matter.”

As he mulled over things in his mind, Gavin knew it to be true. He’d been loved by his father for all his years, even if Berwyn had not paid him much attention. It would take more than simple misfortune to turn the man away from him. In that moment Gavin realized while he was away, Berwyn had learned a truth that destroyed the tenuous relationship fostered with his son over a lifetime.

And that meant Gavin’s life as he knew it was now over. He possessed no home. No family. No money or land of his own. Where should he turn?

Instinctively, the answer came. He would go south, to Lord Aldred. Aldred would know what to do. Aldred would slice through the confusion and help him see to the heart of the matter. Aldred would give him the advice he needed and shelter him. Moreover, Robert’s family lived nearby. Not only would he have counsel from a man he greatly admired, but he knew he could count on his closest friend for guidance, as well.

He pulled himself to his feet. Exhausted after so long a journey, another one, even longer, now awaited him.

Eben must have seen the weariness in his eyes, for he spoke to him gently. “Come, my lord. I shall saddle you a horse. Even now, my wife and others gather clean clothes and food for you. I beg you. Never return here. Lord Berwyn won’t take kindly to those that disobeyed his orders and allowed you into Ashgrove tonight.”

Gavin winced at the punishment the watchmen and others might face, all at his expense. He, more than most, knew the extent of Berwyn’s wrath when stirred up.

“I cannot allow it, Eben. A missing horse? Father—Lord Berwyn—will have your head for giving me the mount.”

The servant touched a hand to his shoulder. “Nay, my lord. He shall never know. This is wrong, to be treated worse than an animal, thrown out with nothing. We mean to right things as best we can, for we know how he left you to suffer in that prison.”

Before Gavin could protest, three men entered the stables.

“I’ll saddle the horse, Eben. Here are clothes for Lord Gavin,” said one. He quickly hurried away to ready the horse.

The other two smiled encouragingly at Gavin, both playmates of his nigh on a score ago. They handed over a piece of cloth tied together holding food and a small coin purse. Gavin knew the risk they took in aiding him.

“’Tis not much,” the older of the two proclaimed. “But ‘twill help buy a meal or two as you make your way to . . . ” The man’s voice trailed off.

“I go to—”

“Nay, my lord,” Eben interrupted. “If we know not where you flee, we cannot give that information to Lord Berwyn, should he request it.” The look Eben gave him, and what he left unsaid, convinced Gavin of the wisdom in keeping his plans to himself.

“Then I give you my gratitude, Eben.” He looked at the other men gathered about. “To you and to all who have sacrificed for me.” He wrapped his arms about Eben, knowing he would never see the older man again. “I’ll not forget this day nor your kind gestures.”

He called for Homer. The fur ball came running from his hiding place and wound through his legs. Gavin lifted the cat and placed him back in his sack. Homer curled up, his brief adventure in the stables over.

He turned and mounted the horse, a nondescript brown. Eben handed up the bundle of clothes. Into a burlap sack hanging from the saddle, Gavin slipped the clothes and the food.

“We’ll accompany you to the gates, my lord.”

Gavin nodded, words failing him, his throat thick with emotion. They reached the entrance to Ashgrove. Eben himself opened the gate, glaring at the watchmen upon the tower above.

“Godspeed, my lord.”

Gavin gave a wave and managed a smile. No matter how heavy his heart, he must put on a good face for the rest of the world.

For the rest of his life.

CHAPTER 8

“I’m dying. Let us face that fact before we begin this discussion, eh, Robert?”

Robert found it hard to agree with Aldred. This man had been the hero of his youth. Invincible. Like a god. Yet upon closer study, he noticed how much weight Aldred no longer possessed. Strong muscles had turned to frail arms. His beard, once neatly trimmed, now looked scraggly. A haggard look hung about his features. Still, strength of will and character shone in the warrior’s eyes.

He gripped Aldred’s hand. “We all die at some point, my lord. You have lived a hale and hearty life. Who is to say when ‘twill end?”

Aldred glared up at him. “I don’t want you to placate me, boy. Just agree with me. I’m dying. My strength ebbs away. I’m uncomfortable in any position I stand, sit, or lie in. My bones ache. My stomach seems forever noxious. My breath has turned foul. I’m a man with little time. Agreed?”

Robert bowed his head and then nodded, not able to look at Aldred. When did this change occur? He visited Kentwood every month or so. When had Aldred begun to fade away? Why hadn’t he noticed? Or better yet, why had he ignored all the signs?

“Fine. Now that we’ve established that, I have a request to make of you.”

He raised his head. The old warrior’s eyes bore into his own. A grown man, and he still could tremble from a single glance given by Aldred. “How may I assist you? You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, my lord.”

“I want you to marry Elizabeth.”

“Marry . . . Elizabeth?” His voice came out a whisper. He swallowed. “Surely ‘tis the king’s decision as to what happens to her and Kentwood. Once you are gone.”

Aldred snorted. “Edward owes me. He will honor my request. Besides, our two lands could be joined as one. That alone will appeal to our king. We are close to the coast. An invasion is unlikely, but a united property would make for a strong defense.

“Besides,” Aldred finished, “you love her. A great deal.”

Robert felt a flush of guilt rise in his cheeks. “We are but good friends, my lord. I have never gone behind your back. I have never—will never—touch Elizabeth in a familiar fashion.”

Aldred smiled benignly. “I know that. But I’ve seen you look at her when you thought no one watched. True, you have a special friendship already, and that will make for a firm foundation for your marriage.”

The old man cleared his throat. “Elizabeth needs a younger man in her life, one that can give her children. She has so much to give the man she marries. She’s been a best friend to me, a boon companion in my old age. She’s smart, quick as lightning, and I would have loved to put her up against any one of my knights from years past had she been born a man. I think she might have presented a great challenge. Even to Gavin.”

Aldred paused. “I miss that boy. He was one of the bravest soldiers I’ve seen. Certainly the best that ever fostered at Kentwood under me.”

“I miss him, as well,” Robert agreed. “I’ve not seen him since our imprisonment in France. I sent three missives to his home in the north. The first two received no response. I suppose the messages went astray. Finally, his father answered the third.”

“Berwyn?” Aldred snorted in disgust. “That pompous ass never deserved a son as fine as Gavin.”

“Lord Berwyn wrote to me that Gavin remained in France. I assume he stayed on after his ransom was paid and fights to this day.” He swallowed his frustration as he chose his words carefully. “I wish I could be at war again, as well. Yet Father needs me at home more. King Edward insisted I stay here.”

Aldred sighed. “Both of us long to be again at war, my son. There’s nothing that challenges a man’s skills and prowess more than to be thrust onto the battlefield.”

The once mighty soldier waved the thoughts away. “We should enjoy our beautiful surroundings, Robert. We lead fine lives here in peace. Remember the cries of anguish? The blood freely spilt? War should be outlawed. If women ruled, it very well would be.”

The old warrior shivered and pulled the bedclothes more tightly about him. “No talk of this to Elizabeth. I’ll not have her worried about me more than she does already. But when the time comes, give her time to mourn me. I'll ask Edward to do the same. In a year’s time, even six months, when she adjusts to the idea of being alone, approach her.”

“And if she won’t have me?” Robert narrowed his eyes. “You know how obstinate she can be.”

Aldred smiled. “Then woo her, Robert. Show her your love. Let your kiss arouse things within her that she never dreamt were there.”

Suddenly, Aldred’s meaning became clear to him. “You mean . . . ”

Aldred nodded. “Elizabeth is yet a virgin. I could not perform my husbandly duties. She deserves much more. And if she’s stubborn, take her. Show her how grand love can be with the right partner in your arms.

“You’re a handsome man, Robert of Fondren, and a good one. Clever, too. I have the utmost faith that you’ll win her over.”

“She would hate it if she could hear us discussing her in this manner. And despite pretty words and moonlight kisses, I do not know if she would be willing to have me, Aldred. I am more brother to her than lover.”

“Then I will ask of Edward to give her the year alone to mourn. When ‘tis over, if Elizabeth will not marry you of her own free will, Edward will insure that it happens. She may think she knows what ‘tis best for her, my son, but in the end ‘tis for men to make these decisions.”

He glanced over at the table next to his bedside. Robert followed his gaze.

“See those stewed plums? My pain has passed. I could enjoy a bite or two of those now.”

Robert reached over to the bowl. He glanced down at Aldred’s hands, shaking unsteadily, much as his own father’s now did.

“Here, let me help you, my lord.” With that, he spooned a bite into Aldred’s mouth, all the while thinking of Elizabeth.

“Your Majesty?”

Edward raised his eyes to the adviser. “What now?” he asked irritably. “I will not hear ‘tis King John again. Had I known how much trouble that man would cause, I would have forbade him entrance and slammed the door in his face.”

The councilor glibly replied, “I’m sure the Black Prince will take that into consideration and locate a more cooperative hostage next time, Sire.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Know ye what that French monarch demanded yesterday? Or the day before that?” Edward slammed a fist down. The candle on the table flickered with the movement. “’Tis two years I have put up with the man, yet we are no closer to negotiating his release than the very day of his capture. This much ransom, that many hostages. Sometimes I wish to lop off his head and return it to the
dauphin
.”

“War can be lengthy, Sire, as well as expensive. I would advise you to let King John keep his head for now. He’ll be worth more with it attached to his body. Be patient.”

“I’m tired of being patient!” he roared. “And why are you here? Do you bring word from my son?”

The councilor replied, “No word from Prince Edward, your majesty. Nor from John of Gaunt. ‘Tis a messenger, though, that I think you would see.”