Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (26 page)

The sounds of the doors opening were followed by solitary boot steps. 

“We have anxiously been awaiting your arrival, my friend.” The king spoke to the newcomer without taking his narrowed eyes from Fulke.

“I apologize for the delay, Sire. I returned to the city the moment I received your message.” Stopping beside the humbled group Justice de Glanville eyed Mylla with a chilling smile.

Chapter Nineteen

Overly emotional, and having gone without food or rest since being parted from Talan, proved too much for Mylla. Upon hearing the justice’s voice, she collapsed into a faint.

The knights’ instincts to render her assistance were superseded by their training. Following Fulke’s lead, his men remained motionless.

“Why do you not join me on the dais, Ranulf?” Ignoring Mylla’s plight, King Henry warmly greeted the justice.

Without waiting for the order two footmen rushed to place a seat beside the king’s. Only then did the king wave a hand in Mylla’s direction. “Assist the woman to her seat. I would not have it spoken that I am a king without compassion.”

“If it were me, I would leave the harlot where she lays,” Justice de Glanville said stiffly climbing the steps.” I fear my sitting in the saddle these last days has affected me sorely. Though I see Baron Erlegh seems to have no such complaint. He must have departed for London to plead his knight’s case afore I had time to clear his land.”

“We are not as young as once we were,” the king said sympathetically. “Where is your clerk? I rarely see you without him.”

“I left him in Rochester.” A sigh of relief escaped the justice when he lowered himself into the seat. “He has proven to be a disappointment to me.”

“I know how you feel,” Henry said with narrowed eyes. “Would you care for some refreshment prior to the start of the judgment?”

“After we settle the matter will be soon enough for celebration,” Ranulf assured the king. “I recently received a shipment of the most delightful wine from France. I shall have a cask of it delivered to you by nightfall.”

“I shall look forward to raising a glass to our longstanding friendship.” Abruptly changing course, King Henry said, “Speaking of which, I have a gift to bestow upon you.”

“Sire is too kind.” The justice beamed.

“Bring in the justice’s gift,” Henry called.

The back doors once again opened.

Locked into their bows Fulke and his knights listened to the sound of overlapping boot steps approaching the dais. 

The only one seated, Mylla glanced fearfully over her shoulder at the newcomers. Heedless to the king’s presence, she was up and running before anyone could stop her. Closing the distance, she threw herself in Talan’s waiting arms.

Flanked by the king’s guard, and followed by Caine and Leofrick, Talan held her tightly.  

“I must say, I am impressed, Baron Erlegh.” Henry cracked a smile when the Erlegh knights remained in position despite Talan’s appearance. “I was certain my first surprise would see you rattled. Mayhap, I shall succeed with my second. You and your men may be seated.”

Lithely rising from their positions, Fulke and his men briefly glimpsed Talan. They appeared more relaxed when they resumed their seats. 

After the epithets he hurled at the embracing couple were ignored, the justice directed his attention to the guards. “Seize Sir Talan. I will behead him myself.”

“Hold,” Henry commanded the confused guard. “Do not be so hasty, Ranulf.”

Fuming, the justice was forced to witness the couple’s affectionate display.

“Enough already, Sir Talan,” Henry called. “I would have you stand afore me.”

Reluctant to let her go, Talan escorted Mylla to her seat. Gently prying her fingers from his arm, he gave her a reassuring look. “Whatever happens, we are together,” he spoke for her ears alone.

Mylla perched anxiously on the edge of her seat to watch the scene unfold.

Filthy from his time spent in the dungeon, Talan did not bother with his appearance as he dropped into a bow before the king. He simply said, “Sire.”

“You may rise.” Henry gave the knight a rude once over. “I well recall the last time you were in my presence, Sir Talan. You appeared much more insolent then.”

“For that, I humbly beg your pardon, Sire,” Talan said. “I felt it my duty to protect my liege’s wife.”

“You felt the need to protect her from
me
?” Henry’s fingertips began to drum on the throne’s armrest.

“I swore an oath afore God to protect the baroness with my life be it from anyone or anything,” Talan said. “I could not fail in my duty to my liege, Sire.”

“How very valorous of you,” Henry said glancing toward Fulke. “I should have expected no less from one of the baron’s knights.”

“Once more I ask for your pardon, Sire.” 

“In the future, if there is to be one for you,” Henry said, “I suggest you place your king above all living souls.” 

Willing to say or do anything to keep Mylla safe, Talan said, “It shall be done, Sire.”

“Henry,” the justice said. “Why are you coddling the knave? He should be clamped in irons and flayed alive.”

“The lad is attempting to protect his wife, Ranulf. Were we men of a different ilk I doubt we would fault him for it.”

“His what?!” Justice de Glanville rose halfway out of his seat.

“Have you not heard?” Henry enjoyed Ranulf’s reaction. “It appears your betrothed has wed Sir Talan. By their greeting, I would say they have consummated their union many times over. Am I correct, Sir Talan?”

“You are correct, Sire,” Talan replied while looking at the justice. “The lady is now my wife.”

“I want his head,” the justice seethed. “I want it resting on a pike where she is forced to look at it every day for what remains of her short life.” Turning his rage on Mylla, his voice echoed in the hall. “You drasty lowborn doxy, I will have you licking the offal from my boots on your way to the block.”

“You forget yourself in my presence, Ranulf,” Henry chided. “I have not given you permission to speak so freely. Calm yourself lest you do something I will be forced to regret.”

“Forgive me, Sire.” The justice immediately backed down. “Seeing the whore again has overwhelmed my good sense.”

Fulke lightly cleared his throat when Talan tensed upon hearing the justice besmirch Mylla.

Instantly relaxing his stance, Talan folded his hands behind his back.

King Henry’s laughter suddenly rang throughout the chamber. 

“Do you find the matter amusing, Henry?” The justice narrowed his eyes on Talan. “For I must admit, I do not.”

“We both know you are trying to rile the lad into doing something foolish, Ranulf,” Henry said. “Had you missed it, Baron Erlegh will not lose his man so easily.”

“His man made a cuckold of me,” the justice seethed, “I demand justice as is my right.”

“Since she is Sir Talan’s wife, he made you no such thing,” Henry said with steepled fingers. “Now, if you were to swive the lass, and I could hardly deny you a spot of revenge after your unjust treatment by the couple, you would make a cuckold of him. How ironic would that be?”

Mylla lowered her head to softly weep. 

“Alas, I do not think the lass approves of the idea,” Henry observed. “Nevertheless, I believe some order of compensation is warranted for the broken betrothal issue.”

“Stop your sniveling,” the justice snapped at Mylla, “you will find no pity here.”

“Sire,” Fulke braved to speak when Talan’s hand reached for his missing sword. “I am sure you would agree that Lady Mylla does not deserve such harsh treatment.”

Justice de Glanville glared at Fulke. “So says the man who hangs on his woman’s skirts like a babe rooting out its mother’s tit.”

“You are not worthy to touch the hem of my lady’s skirts,” Fulke calmly replied.

“If the two of you are going to debate the matter, you should do so properly,” Henry said. “Stand with your man, Baron Erlegh.”

“As you wish, Sire,” Fulke said.

“Now then,” Henry said after Fulke stood alongside Talan. “You were saying, Baron Erlegh? Something about good Ranulf here being unworthy of touching your wife’s skirts…”

“First of all, Reina is my lady,” Fulke spoke to the justice as if speaking to a child. “Secondly, I was a knight prior to entering the ranks of the nobility. I am sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves. It is a duty I will adhere until the day I die.”

“He does have a point, Ranulf,” King Henry said. “My mother was a woman. I would not approve if she were treated thusly.”

“Your mother was not a doxy,” the justice said.

“Have a care, Ranulf, lest you insult me again this day. It does not please me to hear the two titles used in the same sentence.”

“Forgive me, Sire,” the justice said. “As you know, I meant no offense. Your mother was the epitome of goodness.”

“She was a coldhearted shrew, and well you know it,” Henry spat. “Nonetheless, by calling her a doxy you bring my parentage into question. That is something I shall not have.” He flicked his hand in Mylla’s direction. “Such talk is not fit to be heard by a woman. Take the lady to my private chamber and give her something to eat lest she faint again.”

Mylla stood and rushed to embrace Talan before the guards led her away. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Je t’aime, mon coeur.” Inhaling the scent of her hair, he reluctantly released her.  

“Henry, I protest,” the justice’s head swiveled between the king and Mylla. “She should stand alongside her husband when the sentence is announced and carried out.” 

“Protest all you like, Ranulf, all this speaking has made me hungry.” Henry idly scanned the group. “I think I have a taste for something different this day. My favored lamprey dish gave me indigestion yester-eve. See it done,” he called to no one in particular.

Four footmen quickly exited to do the king’s bidding. Before the echoes of their footfalls faded from the hall the remaining men were struggling to replace the oak table on the dais. Soon after, servants entered the hall. Their arms laden with large platters and steaming bowls, they climbed the dais on one end to deposit their burden prior to exiting on the other end. The table was soon covered with steaming dishes of fowl, fish, and roasted meats seasoned with rare spices of caraway, nutmeg, and cardamom. Silver bowls brimmed with dried dates, figs, and raisins. The last to find a place on the table was an ornate silver pitcher filled with wine and two matching goblets.

Henry licked his lips as the savory smell of food carried to his captive audience. Spearing a piece of seasoned fish with his silver knife, he took a large bite. With his mouth still full, he glanced over at Ranulf. “Do you see why I made him one of my favored?”

Ranulf eyed Fulke with contempt. “Unfortunately, I do not.”

“Come now,” Henry said, lowering his knife, “you are not being reasonable. Not only is he the quintessence of the perfect knight, he has trained his men to emulate him.” 

“In my humble opinion, it is fear of you and not training that renders them so immobile, Sire.”

“Oh, there is nothing at all humble about you, Ranulf.”  

“Still, what they do now is nothing unusual. On the eve of his knighting every squire must bathe, confess, and hold an all-night vigil of prayer in the chapel.” The justice looked bored. “The only difference I see here is that they have yet to bathe and have not yet started praying for their soon to be departing souls.” 

“Perhaps you are right,” Henry said. “Why force them to do something they do not deem to be a punishment? Take your seats,” he ordered without taking his eyes from Ranulf.

Acknowledging the command with a dip of their heads, Talan and Fulke resumed their seats.

“Do you see how well they move together?” Henry clapped his hands excitedly. “It is as though they are one. That, Ranulf, comes from years of training.”

“Your guard is just as well trained, Sire, if not more so.” Swirling the contents of his goblet, the justice took a long swallow of wine. “They are after all commissioned to protect your life.” 

“Indeed.” Henry faced his friend. “What think you of the wine? An emissary from the pope delivered it from Rome.”

“I much prefer French wine.”

“Of course,” Henry said, “and you wish to present me with a cask of it.”

“You will not be disappointed, Sire. I have discovered a region in Bordeaux where the monks make the finest of wines.”

“Then why am I wasting my time on this Roman swill?” Henry knocked over his half-filled goblet. Blood red wine ran across the table to drip on the dais. “I will sample this fine Bordeaux you speak so highly of.”   

Settling into his meal, the justice said, “After we dine, I shall send a footman to retrieve it.”

“Why wait?” Henry laboriously gained his feet. “Let us go and retrieve it now.”

“Sire?” Food fell out of the justice’s gaping mouth. King Henry seldom left the palace, and if he did, it was to relocate to another of his palaces.

“Have I not trusted your judgment in all matters past?” Henry asked. “I would try this delightful wine with all haste.”

“It is not safe for you to travel the city streets, Sire.” The justice reluctantly set his knife down to stand. “Why do I not send a few footmen to retrieve the wine? In fact, I am so assured that you will prefer the vintage, I will gift you with two casks.”

“I appreciate your concern, and generosity, Ranulf.” Henry eyed his guard. “Have my carriage readied and the streets to the justice’s abode cleared. Baron Erlegh and Sir Talan will accompany us. The remaining knights are to remain here with Sheriff Richard’s sons. Escort them to the Lady Mylla and set a guard on the door.”