Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (12 page)

“Have no fear, sheriff.” The justice spurred his horse to follow. “All of England will be notified when I locate your daughter.”               

Sheriff Richard watched until the group rode out of sight before shifting his gaze to Edmund. “Tell me your plan.”

Chapter Ten

Mylla rested her head against the back of the wooden tub with a weary sigh. Her hands making slow revolutions through the lukewarm water, she longed for her scented rose oil. “How spoiled and selfish am I?” she spoke aloud to the empty chamber.

Closing her eyes, she prayed Talan would return to her safely. After managing to procure them a second floor chamber, he was kind enough to order a bath to soothe her aching muscles. Albeit small, the room was tidy, had a wardrobe, and boasted a comfortable looking bed. The single window overlooked the town center. Before he left her, Talan had opened the shutters to catch the late morning breeze.     

The sound of a commotion in the street below suddenly had Mylla’s heart racing. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub to wet the floorboards in her haste to reach the window. Snatching up a cloth to cover herself, she watched the scene unfolding below.

A pair of cart drivers bellowed angrily at each other after colliding in the middle of high street. Young waifs wearing rags took advantage of the chaos to scoop up some fruit that had toppled into the road.

Scanning the growing onlookers for any sign of Talan, Mylla gave up when the street returned to normal. Tears filled her eyes when she sat on the edge of the bed. She wondered what their future held and if fear would consume her every time Talan left her alone.    

†

Having dispatched a messenger to The Wounded Stag, Talan exited the draper’s after placing a special clothing order. To the sound of the bells tolling terce, he mingled with the crowds gathered in the front of the abbey. After the bells had pealed their last, the sound of chisel on stone once again dominated the late morning air. Approaching an elder priest exiting the shell of the abbey, he froze in alarm when he heard his name being called.

“Sir Talan!”

Talan unconsciously reached for the hilt of his sword. Facing the advancing threat, recognition had him relaxing his stance with a relieved smile. “Father Godfrey, can it really be you?”

“Aye, it is I.” Winded from his jog across the courtyard the plump ageing priest struggled to catch his breath. Dressed in a brown alb, his leather sandaled feet poked out from beneath the heavy woolen gown. Balding with a round face and merry blue eyes, Father Godfrey was well known to Talan and his extended family. He had officiated the wedding of Fulke and Reina, and not long after, Euric and Bronwyn’s. “I dare say I almost did not recognize you without your whiskers and arms. Are you no longer in the good Baron Erlegh’s service? How are the lordship and ladyship? I have heard word the baroness has given birth—”

“Tis a long story,” Talan interrupted the priest’s rambling, “yet I believe it to be divine providence to find you here this day. There is something of great import I need to discuss with a priest. Finding one well known to me is a true blessing. Would you be so kind as to take a walk with me?”

“Do you need to confess your sins?” Father Godfrey leaned closer. “Is that why you have shed your arms?”

“You could say that is part of it.”

Father Godfrey glanced around at the other priests.” Then let us be away from any prying ears.” Clasping Talan’s forearm, the priest led him toward the back of the abbey. “Something tells me your sins involve a mutual friend of ours.”

“They do indeed,” Talan said. “I fear my actions have brought trouble to his door.”

Passing into a narrow corridor, Father Godfrey led Talan into a small windowless cell. “There are sycophants everywhere in Reading attempting to gain the bishop’s notice. We shall be safe here. What has you looking so glum, my friend?”

†

“You shame my good name you incompetent whelps,” Justice de Glanville shouted. “Do you hear the sheriff’s sons whining like a bevy of women giving birth?” Angered by the constant bellyaching from his men, he put an end to their chatter. “Should even one of you utter another word, you will find yourselves marching the rest of the way.”  

Trailing well behind the justice and his guards, Leofrick, Caine, and Frederick, found it difficult to keep pace. Their palfreys were no match for the more powerful destriers belonging to the justice’s men. Beginning to show signs of exhaustion the horses would soon need a rest whether or not the justice allowed it.

“How much further is it to Castell Maen?” Caine ventured.

“Albin said it is a full day’s ride from Rochester given good weather.”

“You do not think the justice intends to ride straight through, do you?” Frederick eyed his stead with a look of concern. “It could very well kill our mounts were he to try.”

“He will likely kill his own if he does,” Leofrick said.

By late afternoon ominous storm clouds had begun to gather overhead. The palfreys were beginning to lather and the brothers were arguing over which one of them would approach the justice with their demand to rest the horses.

Relief had them easing up on their mounts when they spotted the justice up ahead slowing his horse to a stop beside a stream.

His guards scrambled from their fatigued horses to assist him from the saddle.

Quenching his thirst from a bladder one of his men handed him, the justice passed it back with a pained expression. He glared his disapproval at the approaching brothers.

After murmuring apologies for their slow pace, the brothers led their mounts directly to the stream.

Drinking his fill of water, Leofrick topped his bladder off from the stream and stowed it back in his pack. He was in the process of rubbing down his horse when the justice ordered them all to remount.

“I will not allow Erlegh’s knight to slink away when we are so close to catching him.” Jerking on his horse’s reins, the justice spurred the fatigued beast onward.

“The man is intent to ride the horses into the ground.” Caine spoke when the brothers once again fell out of pace.

“Put another way,” Leofrick said, “their sacrifice will benefit Mylla and Talan.”

“What do you suppose the justice will do when he discovers Talan is not at Castell Maen?” Frederick asked.

“We shall soon see,” Leofrick replied. 

The riding party reached the Village of Maen after sundown. There was just enough light to see the tidy rows of thatched mottle-and-daub huts lining the dirt road leading up to the castle.

Returning to their homes from the fields, the villagers stopped to watch the newcomers approach. Justice de Glanville’s reputation was well known to the people of Maen. Having great respect and affection for their lord and lady his unexpected appearance would be worriedly discussed well into the oncoming night.

“Raise my standard,” Justice de Glanville called on the final approach to Castell Maen.

Surrounded by a moat, the immense stone structure stood on a sloping rise and held a square turret on each of its four corners. Decorative arrow-slits situated in strategic places along the curtain wall added additional defensive measures. Castle guards stood in the crenel openings high up on the battlements watching their approach.

One of the justice’s men unfurled a silver embroidered black pennant bearing the justice’s badge. Raising it high, the group passed the last line of trees to enter into a wide expanse of cleared parkland. Further ahead lay the water filled moat.

The drawbridge was locked in the lowered position causing the justice to scowl at Baron Erlegh’s confidence. Leading the men, his horse’s hooves clattered over the bridge which led to an open cobbled courtyard.

Fulke stood in a leisurely stance with his arms crossed waiting on the steps in front of two immense oak ironbound doors. Flanked by his knights; Albin, Gervase, Guy, and Osbert. His squire, Warin, stood off to the side with Euric, a visiting friend from Cornwall near the Celtic Sea.

Without waiting for assist, the justice slid from his horse and stumbled forward when dismounting. Righting himself, he snarled, “Guards, draw your swords.”

The justice’s men hastened to dismount in order to comply. Last to arrive, the brothers dismounted at a more leisurely pace.

Fulke’s response to the justice’s order was to quirk a single chiseled blond eyebrow.  “There appears to be something amiss, lord justice.”

“Do not attempt to deceive me, Erlegh.” The justice approached the base of the steps. “Where is the lowborn cur cowering?”

Sizing up the situation, Fulke’s gaze briefly rested on Leofrick. “To whom may I ask are you referring?” 

“Dare you feign ignorance with me?” The justice was blocked from ascending the steps when Fulke’s men refused to budge. “Where is your man?!”

“My men stand afore you.” Glancing along the line of his men, Fulke returned his gaze to the justice. “Have you grown short-sighted in your dotage?”

“You know very well which man I seek,” the justice seethed. “I warn you, if you attempt to conceal him from me I will have a full contingent of the king’s guard here within a senight to tear this place down, stone by stone.”

“I believe the justice may be speaking about Talan, my liege.” Albin casually leaned past Guy to catch Fulke’s attention. “He is the only one of our band not presently accounted for.”

“You bloody well know I mean that rutting cocker.” Justice de Glanville’s hand slipped to the hilt of his dagger.

“There is no need to use such foul language, lord justice,” Fulke said. “There are ladies in residence.”  

“Where is he?!”

“Since the sheriff’s sons’ ride with you, I take it you have come from Rochester,” Fulke said. “Have you tried searching for him there? That is where I last knew Talan to be.”

“I warn you, Erlegh, if you thwart me in this matter I will have you brought up on charges of obstruction. Your head will rest on a pike alongside your man’s.”

Fulke acknowledged the presence of the brothers for the first time. “It seems we are getting nowhere and the evening meal is growing cold on the table. Would any of you care to explain why the justice is so adamant to find Talan?” 

Leofrick held his reins out to Caine before approaching the base of the steps. “Your lordship, it appears Sir Talan has run off with my sister who is, or rather, was betrothed to Justice de Glanville.”

It was obvious by their reactions that the Erlegh men knew nothing about the matter; Albin closed his eyes and swore under his breath, Guy shook his head in disbelief, and the rest of the men looked taken aback. Having presumed as much, Fulke remained impassive.

“Do you still claim the knave is not here?” the justice demanded.

“I assure you Talan is not here, lord justice.” Fulke extended his arms. “Since you are unlikely to take my word for it, I give your men leave to search the castle. Whilst they are doing so, you and the sheriff’s sons are welcome to join us in the hall to sup. You must all be famished after your long ride.”

Slightly appeased, the justice ordered his men to search the stables, village, and grounds.

“Warin,” Fulke said, “summon stable hands to see to our guests’ horses before joining us inside. From the looks of them, they were most brutally used.”

“Aye, my liege.” Warin took off at a run for the marshalsea.

Without waiting to see if the justice followed, Fulke entered to find his elder castellan waiting by the doors. “Rowan, the king’s itinerant justice has ordered his men to search the grounds for Sir Talan. Please bring them food and drink in the stables once they have concluded he is not here.”

“It shall be done as requested, your lordship.” Rowan bobbed nervously.

“Also, please ask your good wife to set out four more trenchers. We have friends and a guest joining us to sup this evening.” 

“I will inform Hylda at once, your lordship.” Rowan braved a glance at the justice on his way to the scullery.

Fulke sidestepped Tugger when the huge brown mastiff came bounding across the hall. Tail wagging furiously, the slobbering dog’s intended lunge for Fulke sent him crashing into the justice.

“Easy does it, lest you fall, lord justice.” Leofrick steadied the tottering man.

Jerking his arm free, the justice righted himself.

“You have my apologies, lord justice,” Fulke said. “Tugger’s greetings tend to knock lesser men over.” He gestured toward two trestle tables laden with food set on one end of the cavernous hall. “Shall we sup?” 

The justice surveyed the opulent hall with a practiced eye. Detailed tapestries depicting momentous battles of old covered the stone walls in order to keep out drafts. The slate flooring held large woven rush mats threaded with scented herbs. Hand-carved benches and chairs with needlepoint cushions were grouped around an immense hearth set into the inner wall. Light from recessed arrow-slits would brighten the hall by day while torches in evenly spaced iron sconces gave an inviting glow at night. If the justice needed proof that Baron Erlegh had once been in favor with King Henry, Castell Maen was it.

Fulke smiled reassuringly at his wife who was holding their toddling daughter, Raine. Dressed in a kermes kirtle of crimson over a rose pink linen chemise, Reina’s matching veil concealed her auburn tresses. Her hands were clasped protectively around her daughter while she waited for her husband’s approach.

Albin’s wife, Lecie, stood beside Reina. Slightly taller than the former, she wore a pale green samite kirtle over a cream chemise. The flowing skirts did little to conceal Lecie’s late stage pregnancy. Wearing her dark silken hair tucked into a linen snood, her unusual golden eyes were narrowed on the justice. The last time she had been in the man’s presence, he had attempted to have her hung on the charge of murder.