Hellion (22 page)

Henry Beauclerc had accepted his mother’s word. She had never lied to him or played him false. He trusted her as he trusted no other. Besides, he had liked the young Saxon boy come to court to be his companion. Unlike so many of the little Norman boys he knew, Hugh Fauconier was friendly and fair. He did not cheat, and when others did, Hugh would shake his head and invariably say, “ ’Tis no victory if it is not won honestly.” At first the others would mock him, but gradually they ceased their cheating because Hugh’s simple words shamed them. There was something about this tall, plain-faced Saxon boy that made them want to please him, become his friend. Hugh, however, while courteous to all, chose his own friends. Prince Henry was one, and Rolf de Briard the other. And as his mother had promised him, Hugh Fauconier served the sons of William of Normandy faithfully.

After the feasting was done, Hugh came to the king’s tent with Rolf. The three men greeted each other affectionately. A page brought goblets of good wine, and the trio sat together for the first time in many months as old and cherished friends.

“Tell me how Langston pleases you, Hugh,” the king said. “Your missive told me little more than the plain facts.”

“I found the estate in good condition, my lord. Belle had managed it well in her father’s absence, for Robert de Manneville had scarcely left England when the old steward died. Everything was as it should be. The most amazing thing was that because she could neither read nor write then, she kept the records of everything done, and the figures, in her pretty head.”

“Then you need have no fears for Langston in your absence,” the king noted. “Is it a pretty place?”

“Great stretches of fields, and softly rolling low hills, my lord. Some forest. Aye, a very sweet land. I thank you for returning it to me. There are still some serfs alive on it who remember my family.”

“And the lady, Hugh?” The king’s eyes twinkled. “Is she as fine as the land? She sounds a most competent and perhaps even a frightening lady for one as young as she.”

Hugh laughed. “The serfs used to call her Belle from Hell, my liege,” he said. “She has a fierce temper, and would not allow them any quarter. She is strict in her judgments, but none ever called her unfair. I think they resented her most because she was a female. I find her a good wife, however. I am content with Belle.”

“Father Bernard is happy?” the king asked politely.

“We are building him a church, and his own house,” Hugh said. “I think he enjoys ministering to Langston’s folk far more than he enjoyed being one of your many chaplains, my liege. He is filled with energy at all he must do and the many duties that claim him.”

“And you, Rolf.” King Henry turned to his other companion. “Are you pleased with your position as Langston’s steward? You will be looking for a wife soon, I have no doubt, now that you can afford one.” The king chuckled.

“I have already remedied that lack in my life, my liege,” Rolf told Henry. “When we first came to Langston, I fell in love at first sight with Robert de Manneville’s widow, the lady Alette. She became my wife, and we are expecting our first child around the feast of the Nativity. Hugh is building us a house within the bailey of the keep.”

The king laughed heartily. “You are a sly fellow, Rolf de Briard, and a fortunate one, too, I think. Is the widow pretty, then?”

“My mother-in-law is a beauty,” Hugh told Henry. “Prettier than my Belle, though she be lovely, too.”

“I am pleased that it has all gone so well for you, my lords,” the king said to them. “I need a strong England, and loyal knights. I know I can count upon you both now that this matter with my brother has been settled
for the time being.
”

Hugh and Rolf immediately understood the king’s emphasis, and nodded silently. “We are always here for you, my
liege,” Hugh told him. Then, lowering his voice, he asked, “What will you do with the disloyal? You have after all promised to pardon them.”

The king smiled wolfishly. “Indeed I have, but there are other ways of containing the rebellious, and their rebellions, my friends.”

“We are with you, my liege,” Hugh replied firmly.

They spoke on until finally the king admitted to being tired, and his companions left him. In the morning the king’s men and the duke’s men came together to witness the signing of the peace accord between the two brothers. Afterward the king called to Hugh Fauconier.

“Come and pay your respects to Duke Robert, Hugh. He wishes to speak with you about your hawks.”

Hugh came forward and bowed before the duke, a handsome man with strong features and mild blue eyes. “How may I serve you, my lord duke?” he inquired politely.

“Henry tells me you are now raising those fine birds that your grandfather once raised. Is this so, my lord?”

“My mews is but newly built, my lord duke,” Hugh said. “My grandfather still raises his hawks in Worcester. I have several breeding pairs, and some young birds this year, but little else.”

“I want a gyrfalcon,” Duke Robert said. “It must be snowy white and trained to hunt cranes. Can you supply me with one?”

“Not until next spring, my lord duke,” Hugh answered honestly. “I have a fine young bird, born two months ago, of snow-white parents. Her mother is the best gyrfalcon I have ever owned. Her offspring should be even better once she is trained, but the training will take time.”

Duke Robert nodded. “I am willing to wait for a bird trained by the line of Merlin-sone, Hugh Fauconier. When she is ready, bring her to me yourself so that you may personally instruct my falconer in this bird’s care and feeding. Such a creature is true royalty.”

Hugh looked to the king. “With my liege’s permission, my lord duke,” he said.

“You have my permission, Hugh, to take the bird to Normandy. Let it be a gift from me to you, Robert,” Henry said graciously.

The duke inclined his head toward his younger brother. “My thanks, Henry. It will be an expensive gift, I think.” Then he smiled.

The king laughed. “What will you take for the bird, Hugh? Will a quarter knight’s fee do you?” He then turned to his brother. “Hugh’s estates at Langston are worth two knights’ fees to me each year, plus the service he renders me. He is a faithful man.”

“
Langston
?” The duke thought a moment, and then he said, “Henry, I must speak to you about Langston. The son of the previous lord is disputing its ownership. He has asked me to speak to you about it.”

“Is he here?” King Henry asked.

“Aye, he is,” Duke Robert said.

“Call him forward, and we shall settle the matter now,” the king said. Then he winked at Hugh, for he had heard the previous evening about Richard de Manneville’s visit to Langston.

Richard de Manneville came from among the ranks of the duke’s men, bowing first to his liege lord and then to the king.

Henry noted the younger man’s error, or was it sly discourtesy? “What is your claim to Langston manor?” he asked Richard de Manneville in a stern voice.

“Langston was given to my father outright by your father, sire. I am my father’s sole surviving, legitimate heir. The manor is mine by right of inheritance,” the Sieur de Manneville told the king.

“Your father made a will, my lord, leaving Langston to your sister Isabelle to be her dower, and an inheritance from him. A copy of that will was among the papers of my brother, William Rufus, then the King of England, for it was written here at
court and approved by him. I learned of your father’s death before you even thought to inform your sister. As king it was my right to claim the wardship of such a young, innocent, undefended maiden. So I did. In my capacity as your sister’s guardian, I gave her in marriage to my own man, Sir Hugh Fauconier. Your sister is content with the arrangement, as am I,” the king finished. His tone was final.

“That being the case,” Duke Robert said, “the Sieur de Manneville can surely offer me no further objection, or make any claim upon this manor.” Duke Robert was a fair man.

Richard de Manneville’s dark eyes were angry, but he knew he had no other choice than to accept the decision rendered by England’s king, and his own duke. He bowed to the two men with ill-disguised bad humor, but the king was not yet finished with him.

“Come, my lord,” he said in jovial tones. “You have not yet met your sister’s husband.” He drew Hugh forward. “My lords, greet one another, and give each other the kiss of peace.”

Hugh, amused by the situation, did his king’s bidding. His brother-in-law was stiff with anger, but Hugh pretended not to notice. “Come, Richard de Manneville,” he said, “and let us share a cup of wine together. I am sorry I was not at Langston when you called. My good lady wife, of course, informed me of your visit.”

“And did the bad-tempered wench tell you that she would not even offer me a night’s hospitality beneath your roof, my lord?” Richard de Manneville said irritably. “I had hoped marriage would mature my sister, but I see you are as lax with her as was our father.”

“My wife is a unique creature, Brother Richard,” Hugh said, pressing a goblet of the king’s wine into the Sieur de Manneville’s hand. “She did not trust you, I fear, but I am certain ’twas just foolishness upon her part, eh? Women are such skittish creatures.”

“That is true enough,” Richard de Manneville agreed grudgingly, raising the goblet to his lips and drinking deeply.

“Then it is resolved between us, and we are friends?” Hugh said with a smile.

Richard de Manneville shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “Besides, it is unlikely we shall ever meet again, Hugh Fauconier. There is little need for me to leave my estates but for my service to Duke Robert each year. I have a son now, and the promise from my wife of other children. I wish you the same good fortune. I hope my sister will prove a better breeder than my stepmother, the lady Alette. She could only give my father Isabelle in all the years that they were married. Perhaps it was for the best, however.”

Hugh raised his own goblet to Richard. “I wish you a safe journey home to Normandy,” he said quietly.

When the two men had emptied their goblets, they parted.

“So that is the end of it, then,” Luc de Sai murmured, coming to Richard de Manneville’s side.

“How little you know me, Luc,” was the reply. “It may take a bit of time, but Langston will be mine one day. Let my sister and her husband believe that they have won. Let them be lulled into a sense of false security. In the end I shall triumph. Be patient.”

“And your sister will be mine?” his companion asked.

“If you want her, aye,” Richard de Manneville answered.

“I want her,” Luc de Sai said. “I suspect her passion is as fiery as her red-gold hair. I will enjoy making her howl with pleasure.”

“How basic your needs are,” the sieur replied coldly.

“The simpler a man’s needs are, the better, my lord. That way he is rarely disappointed,” Luc de Sai responded, surprising his master with his sagacity.

Duke Robert remained in his brother’s kingdom of England until Michaelmas, and everywhere the duke visited, his men caused difficulty and damage. Angered by being denied a war with its spoils, they had become difficult to control. Warned by their thoughtful monarch, England’s citizens
buried their valuables, sent their daughters to safety, and bore the abuse. King Henry allowed the Normans a certain latitude, not wanting to damage the fragile peace. He was as relieved as his subjects, however, to see Duke Robert and his forces embark for their brief voyage across the channel that separated their two realms. Then the king dismissed his armies, sending most of them home.

Hugh Fauconier and the Langston men returned on a rainy October morning. Hugh was happy to see his keep, and happier yet that there had been no war, that he could return with all the men who had ridden out with him in early July. Rolf beamed with delight to find Alette, her rounded belly very visible now beneath her skirts, eager to receive him. Leaping eagerly from his horse, he clasped her to him, kissing her soundly.

“Gracious, my lord!” Alette emerged from the embrace rosy with blushes and her great happiness to have him safely home.

Hugh dismounted his stallion, his eyes never leaving those of Belle’s. She stood quietly awaiting him. Her elegance and her dignity both impressed and delighted him. She was every inch the chatelaine.

“Welcome home, my dear lord,” she greeted him. Her look was a passionate one, although her calm demeanor would have fooled anyone not acquainted with Isabelle of Langston.

“I am glad to be home, madame,” he said, stripping off his riding gloves. “Shall we go indoors? I have had enough of the damp this day, and long for the fire.”

“Some wine, too, I have no doubt,” Belle responded. “And the meal is almost ready, my lord. You and the men will be hungry after your many hours in the saddle.” She turned, and with him following, walked into the hall. “Afterward you will want a bath, and my stepfather, too,” Isabelle said. “We are ready for you, my lord.”

“We will eat first, and then I will let Rolf bathe. I want to visit the mews. That young gyrfalcon hatched by my Neige this spring has been promised to Duke Robert. I am to go to
Normandy next spring and bring her to him. She is to be trained to hunt cranes.”

“Then the war is over?” Belle asked, taking a goblet of rich, sweet red wine from a servant and handing it to her husband.

“It was settled without any blood being spilt,” Hugh said, and explained the terms of the agreement to his wife.

“I think the king foolish to pardon those lords who rebelled against him,” Belle noted. “They should be punished.”

Hugh chuckled. “Do not fear, ma Belle,” he said, and took a gulp of his wine. “King Henry is no fool. While he has pardoned Robert de Belleme and the others for their treason, they are fools if they think him content with the matter. The king is his father’s son. He does not forget a fault done him. He will find other ways to punish them. The agreement so carefully crafted by the archbishop will not hold forever. The king means to have Normandy, and in the end he will have it. The duke is a fine soldier, but so is King Henry, who has an advantage over his brother because he is far more clever than Duke Robert. Be patient and you will see,
chérie.
” He swallowed down the rest of his wine and kissed her cheek. “I hope you are well rested, madame.” His look was smoldering.