Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (29 page)

BOOK: Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01
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Henry watched him leave, before he shook his head in
disgust. “These weak and worthless noble-born men I am forced to cosset, yet I
am frowned upon for selecting men worthy of title.”

He glanced down at Reina. “Your heart is too kind,
your ladyship. Yet I must confess, in this instance I was counting on it.” He
bent his head to her level. “Once again, you depart with my thanks. The guards
will escort you to your chamber where comforts await.”

Seeing Fulke reach down to assist her from the chair,
Reina gripped the armrests. Adamantly shaking her head.

Lightly gripping her elbows, Fulke leaned close to
mouth. “Trust me, my love.”

Releasing her grip, Reina reluctantly stood, clinging
to his waist as he walked her to the door.

She turned back to him in the passageway.
“I love you, Fulke.”

Before closing the door, he gently ran his hands down
her face. “You are my life.”

Forcing himself to close the door, he rejoined the
king.

Henry waved a hand at the table. “Refresh yourself,
Fulke.”

Selecting a cup of the king’s favored wine, Fulke took
a seat beside him. “Do you think it possible Reynold will sway the opposing
barons, Sire?”

Henry shifted his gaze to him. “If he desires to live,
he will.”

“What do you intend to do now, Sire?”

 
Intentionally
misconstruing Fulke’s words, Henry replied, “After the assembly, I shall banish
him from court.
 
After a time, when he
forgets what he has cost me, I shall remind him by stripping away his title and
lands.”

Fulke came close to feeling pity for Reynold.
 
His future path would not be an easy one.

He stared into his cup, waiting for the king to
pronounce his sentence.
 
After a bit,
Henry broke the tense silence. “Do you know the only person I ever fully
trusted was my mother?”

“I did not know that,” Fulke responded softly.

“Aye,” Henry huffed.
 
“If she did not favor me above my brothers, I would have even doubted
her.”

Fulke thought of his men, risking their lives on his
behalf.
 
“It must be difficult never
knowing whom to trust.”

“The life of a monarch is never an easy one.” Henry
sighed. “I am the unspoken murderer of my brother, William.
 
Present jailer of my brother Robert, and
there are times even I have doubts of how Matilda will fare as queen.
 
If she were not such an ill-tempered bitch, I
would have an easier time of it.
 
I married
her at twelve to a man twenty years her senior believing she would provide me
with an abundance of male spares.”
 
He
scoffed, “Yet here I sit, mourning a son and forced to do battle with my barons
on behalf of a woman.”

Hearing the contempt in Henry’s voice, Fulke thought
of the man he wanted to be for his own child.
 
Son or daughter, if given the opportunity he would raise them to believe
in honor above all else.
 
Whether at the
behest of a King, Queen or themselves, there was no other way he could live.

Resolved, he faced Henry. “I fear that Stephen will
oppose Matilda’s ascension, Sire.”

“Aye, you tell me old information, Fulke.
 
Stephen is my sister’s son.
 
She entrusted me with his care from the time
he was a lad.
 
I have grown too fond of
him to make an issue of it. I remain steadfast in my present course.
 
I shall leave it to Geoffrey to fight for
Matilda’s claim in the future.
 
From what
your lady has discovered, he is tenacious enough to take on Stephen upon my
death.”

Fearing an inevitable war, Fulke said, “I pray you
live a long life, Sire.”

Henry acknowledged with a dip of his head.
 
“Archbishop Corbeil is very fond of you,
Fulke.
 
He believes if I were to command
your death, it shall be a grave sin upon my soul.”

Fulke bowed his head in relief. “Thank you, Sire.”

“Do not thank me,” he scoffed, “my decree is banishment.
I am left with no other choice.”
 

“I willingly accept it, Sire.”

“Your vote is required at the assembly, after which
time, you are to remove yourself to Castell Maen.
 
Albin is likewise, banished.” He skewered
Fulke with his gaze. “Your men’s actions in the hall did not escape my notice.
Had they made a move to defend you, their heads would even now be resting on
pikes.
 
As it stands,” he relented,
“England will have need of her knights. In lieu of punishment, they are to
remain in my service under your guidance.”

Fulke clasped his hands, anxious to hear Reina’s fate.

“As to your lady, I cannot see her being of any
further use to the crown. Reynold will do his part to waylay suspicion, yet
there will be skeptics.
 
I most
regrettably find myself forced to concede the advantage I would have had over
Louis. Henceforth, I release her to your safe keeping.”

Fulke clenched his eyes closed for a moment in
relief.
 
Unable to speak, he struggled to
compose himself.

Henry leaned forward to grab his shoulder. “She is to
remain by your side for the remainder of the assemblage. I cannot have her
sudden absence giving credence to Reynold’s accusations.”

In more control of his emotions, he nodded. “Of
course, Sire.”

Henry leaned back in his seat. “Even with your faults,
you are a good man, Fulke. I would venture to say, better than most.”

Standing, he bowed. “I humbly thank you, Sire.”

Henry raised a hand in acknowledgement. “The court
ladies will not be the only ones to miss you. Go in peace, my friend.”

 
TWENTY
 

Reina numbly followed behind the two men-at-arms as
they escorted her back to her chamber.
 
Confused and upset, she found it difficult to breath as she imagined
what punishment the king planned for Fulke.

She spotted the men standing outside her chamber as
she turned the corner leading to the guest chambers. They straightened at her
appearance as she squeezed between the guards to rush forward.

Flinging her arms around Warin, she began sobbing.

Albin opened the door to her chamber. “Bring her inside,
lad.”

The men exchanged worried glances as Warin guided
Reina to a seat before the fire. Easing her down, he crossed to the sideboard
to pour her a glass of honeyed mead.

Albin dragged a chair around to face her. Taking a
seat, he asked,
  
“Can you tell us what
happened, my lady?”

Shaking her head, Reina could not repeat the
horrifying scene she witnessed.

Albin’s face fell as he asked, “Has Fulke been
harmed?”

Tears streamed from her eyes as she shook her head,
unable to answer.

“My lady,” he said calmly, “We must know what
happened.”

Clasping her hands to still their trembling, she
closed her eyes to calm herself.
 

Her eyes flew open when Reynold’s bloodied throat rose
up before her, the words streaming out of her
. “The king
is mad, he has Fulke alone at his mercy.
 
I have to be with him, I need to be with him, Albin,”
she
burst into sobs.

Staring at her wide-eyed, Albin called, “Ah, a little
assist lads.”

Talan rushed over to kneel before her. “What do you
wish to say, my lady?”

With wild eyes, she clung to the front of Talan’s
tunic.
“You do not understand, the king is mad.
  
He had a dagger to Baron Reynold’s throat, a
dagger, Talan.”

Talan spoke low as he repeated her words.

 
“My lady, first
of all,” Albin said, “If you are going to call the king mad, I am beyond
relieved he cannot hear you.
 
Secondly, I
have no doubt Fulke would be grateful to have you stand as his second, however,
knowing him as I do, I am convinced he would have you out of harm’s way.”

Seeing her eyes widen, he hastened to add, “Not that
he is in harm’s way, my lady.
 
I am sure
the king was only trying to intimidate Reynold.”

Reina looked skeptical as the three knights beside her
rolled their eyes in disbelief. Gesturing to them as proof, Albin scowled at
the trio.
 

Her throat parched, she accepted the cup Warin held
out to her.
 
Draining half of it, she
returned her gaze to Albin.
   

“Can you tell us what happened after you left the
hall, my lady?”

Taking a deep breath, she told them everything that
happened after she was taken from the hall.
  

Ashamed, she refrained from telling them what happened
after the guards shut her in a lightless cell.
 
Terrified of being alone in the dark, she felt for the damp walls with
outstretched, trembling hands.
 
Sinking
down on the filthy floor of the cell, the stench of human waste nearly
overwhelmed her.
 
She spent the long
night cowering in fear, praying Fulke would come for her.

She told them after some time, the guards came for
her, escorting her to a cell further down the passage.
 
Giving them a detailed account, she told them
everything that happened with the king and Baron Reynold, ending with the
escort back to her own chamber.

After she finished, Albin cupped her trembling hand.
“I am sorry for what you have had to endure, my lady. It was not meant to
happen that way.”

Reina looked beyond Albin to Talan.
“I do not understand.”

Albin squeezed her hand, before explaining what they
planned to occur in the hall.
 
With her
secret exposed before the court, she would no longer be valuable to the
king.
 
Avoiding the intimate details of
Gervase’s involvement, Reina figured them out for herself.

Never believing the king would have her seized, Albin
told her of Fulke’s order to keep the plan from her to ensure her safety.

Tears slipped from her eyes as she recalled what Fulke
said before the feast. Knowing she should be angry with him for risking
himself, all she could think was that her husband loved her so much, he risked
his life to keep a promise to her.

“The fault is all mine, my lady.” Albin admitted. “It
was I who came up with the failed plan.”
 

Glancing at the group of loyal men around her, she
forced a smile, knowing every one of them took enormous risk on her behalf. She
touched Albin’s hand.
“And for that, I thank you,
Albin.”

“You are welcome, my lady.
 
Though I wish I felt deserving of your
praise.”
 
Clearing his throat, he
stood.
 
“We shall withdraw now so that you
may refresh yourself.”

Her eyes widened in fear at the thought of being left
alone and she turned to Warin.
“Please do not leave me.”

“She wishes for us to stay, Albin.”

Albin squatted before her.
 
“Have no fear, we have no intention of
leaving you.
 
We shall wait in the
passage until you come for us.”

Reina stood as the men filed out.
 
Stripping off her soiled garments, she flung
them in a corner.
 
Using the earthenware
jug of water on the sideboard, she hastily scrubbed the stench of the dungeon
from her skin before donning a fresh chemise and kirtle.
 

Flinging open the door, the men were surprised at the
speed in which she accomplished her task.
 

 
Albin returned
to the sideboard to pour himself a tankard of ale. Taking a seat by the fire,
he drained it before staring morosely into the flames.

Warin joined Reina by the window as she bowed her head
to pray for Fulke’s safety.

By the time the pacing knights ran into each other for
the second time, Guy cursed in frustration. Stalking over to the fire, he
dropped into a seat beside Albin.

Biting his nails to the quick, Osbert continued to
pace.

Talan retreated to brood beside the window as Gervase
threw his hands up. “It should not be taking this long.”
 
He crossed to the door.
 
“I shall see if I can catch word of
anything.”

Warin wrapped an arm around Reina. “You need to rest
now, Reina.”
 

Gazing sadly up at him, she said,
“I am too
afraid to close my eyes, Warin.”

“You must hold to the faith you have in your husband.”

With a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. She
was about to close her eyes when Gervase burst back into the room.

Reina, Warin, Albin and Guy leapt to their feet, their
eyes on the door. Osbert stopped midstride as Talan spun away from the window.

Taking in the groups startled reactions he faced
Reina. “Forgive me my lady, I did not mean to frighten you.”

“Then why did you come charging in here like the very
devil was at your heels, lack-wit?” Albin shouted.
  

Gervase grudgingly met Albin’s furious gaze. “My
intent was to avoid an admirer, if you must know,” he muttered.

Despite their anxiety, the men rolled their eyes,
before returning to their solitary vigils.

Warin and Reina reseated themselves, their eyes
focused on the door.

Guy stood, crossing to Gervase.
 
“Afraid of a woman, I never thought to see
the day, Gervase.”

“I am not afraid of a woman,” he replied defensively.

Guy wrapped an arm around him. “Who is this formidable
lady?”

“Lady Peronell.”

“Did you say, Lady Peronell?” Guy grinned.

“Aye,” Gervase scoffed. “Do not let her frail
appearance deceive you.”

The sudden burst of nervous laughter making its way
around the room had him throwing his hands up. Stalking over to the bed, he sat
on its edge to sulk.

 

* * * *

 

Fulke raced past gawking nobles to be with Reina.
 
In a roundabout way, he and his men achieved
what they had set out to do.
 
Consumed
with the need to hold his wife, he burst through the door to his chamber.
 

Taking flight from her seat by the window, Reina had
her arms wrapped around him before the door swung closed behind him.

Fulke held her close for a long moment, before he
unwillingly eased away.
  
Bending to give
her a quick kiss, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We return to Castell
Maen after Christmastide,” he addressed the men while looking down at Reina. “I
will tell you all on the morrow.
 
For
now, I need to be alone with my wife.”

With mirrored looks of relief, the men lined up to
make their way from the chamber.

Reina reached up to kiss each one of them on the cheek
with tears sparkling in her eyes, before Fulke gripped their shoulders.
Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he kept clearing his throat.

Albin stepped up last. Gripping his shoulder, Fulke
searched for the right words to thank him.
  

“I know my friend,” Albin said solemnly, “my
brother.”
  
Rubbing his eyes with the
heel of his hand, he muttered, “a bit of dust.”
  

Alone, Fulke cupped Reina’s tearful face. “They told
you everything?”
 
At her nod, he asked
softly, “And you forgive me?”

Covering his hands with her own, tears of relief
flowed from her eyes.
“There is nothing to
forgive, my love.”

Relieved, he dropped to his knees. Wrapping his arms
around her, he rested his cheek against the swell of their child.
 
He felt a rush of suppressed emotion overcome
him as Reina’s fingers slowly stroked through his hair.
 
Held in the loving arms of his wife, he
closed his eyes to give thanks.
 

Looking up at her, he said hoarsely, “I thought I had
lost you, Reina.”

“Never, my love.”

Rising, he allowed her to guide him to the bed.
 
Perched on the edge, she removed his boots
and helped him undress.
 
Easing pillows
behind his head, she bent to place a lingering kiss on his brow, echoing the
way he had taken care of her.

Undressing to her chemise, she climbed in and closed
the bed-curtains before curling up beside him.

The last thing he remembered before falling into an
exhausted sleep was wrapping his arms around her.

 

* * * *

 

Fulke woke to a loud knock on the door. Surprised by
the bright light flooding the chamber, he glanced down at his sleeping wife.
They had slept the rest of the day and through the night without waking.
Bending to kiss her cheek, he slipped through the bed-curtain.

He donned a dressing gown, before opening the door to
Albin.

Dropping into a deep bow, Albin popped up with a grin.
“I trust you have rested well, my liege?”

Fulke stepped back with a welcoming smile to admit
him. “Why is it that you are the last man I see at night and the first one I
see in the morn, Albin?”

Albin replied with mock solemnity, “I yearn for you
when we are apart, my liege.”

Cuffing him on the shoulder, Fulke gestured for him to
take a seat. “I am sure you have an excellent reason for interrupting my
morning solitude.”

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