The Conqueror (Hot Knights) (25 page)

Once inside, Fornay began to mumble and groan again. “Take him to the upper bedchamber,” Edeva ordered. As Osbert moved past the trestle tables, she grabbed one of the torches from a wall bracket and held it near the wounded man’s face as he hung over Osbert’s broad back. Fornay’s incoherent ramblings quickly turned to coughing.

She followed Osbert up the stairs in that fashion, ostensibly lighting the way. By the time they reached the bedchamber, poor Fornay was all but choking to death.

“Jesu, what’s wrong with him?” Osbert asked after he laid his convulsing burden on the bed.

Edeva tsked sadly. “I’ve seen it before. The bump on his head has made it hard for him to breathe. Quickly now,” she motioned toward the doorway. “Fetch me some wine from the kitchen. ’Twill aid him.”

“But lady, there is wine here.” Osbert pointed to the ewer on the table.

“Nay, we must have fresh wine. Hurry! If we do not bring him round soon, he may never recover his wits.”

Osbert started toward the door, and then hesitated. “But what of the soldiers in the valley?”

“I’ll deal with them, anon.” Edeva waved him urgently toward the door. “I swear, as soon as I have Sir Alan safe, I’ll go to the gate and speak to them.”

Osbert’s brow furrowed, but he finally departed. Edeva ran to the chests in the corner and dug out a badly smoked bedlinen. After tearing the fabric into strips with her teeth, she quickly bound Fornay’s wrists together and tied his feet to the bedposts.

He stopped coughing and began to moan again.

Edeva rushed to get the container of poppy juice and mandrake and mix it with the wine. She returned to the bed and sloshed the mixture into the knight’s mouth, forcing him to drink. He choked a few times, and then swallowed.

When she thought he’d had enough, she took the cup away. There was a commotion on the stairs. Edeva hurriedly arranged the bedcovers over the knight’s bound body. By the time Osbert reached the doorway, she was calmly leaning over the bed, her hand on Fornay’s forehead as if feeling for a fever.

“He sleeps now,” she announced. “I think he will be well as soon as he wakes.”

“But what of the wine?”

Edeva shrugged. “I thought to use the other, to see if it worked.”

“But you said we must wake him, lest his wits slip away.”

Edeva straightened and left the bed. “He did rouse briefly. Enough so that I believe he will recover completely.” She moved toward the door. “But now I must tend to the business at the gate.”

Osbert looked doubtfully at the still form in the bed. “Should I stay with him?”

Edeva put her hand on the big knight’s shoulder, urging him from the room. “There is no purpose to it, and I require your help below. If these knights attack, we will need every man to help defend the palisade.”

Osbert shot one last forlorn look at his unconscious captain, and then preceded Edeva out the door.

Edeva was halfway to the gate before she realized that she could not appear on the tower and speak to the army below. Normans, and indeed, most men, did not consider warfare or politics matters for a woman’s concern. In Jobert’s absence, Fornay was the obvious person to act as Oxbury’s representative. Since she had incapacitated him, the must find someone else, someone she could trust.

The sight of Rob coming out of the stables filled her with relief. “Sir Rob,” she called, “I have need of you.”

He walked stiffly toward her. “I don’t know how much use I’ll be. I’m still weak as a babe. I had not realized how far I had to go until I put on my mail. I vow, it takes near all my strength merely to walk around.”

“I don’t need you to fight, at least not yet,” Edeva assured him. “Simply stand on the gatetower and look and sound like a strong warrior. Someone must speak to the leader of these men and find out their business here.”

“That is Alan’s duty,” Rob protested. “He is Jobert’s first captain.”

“Fornay fell off the gatetower ladder and is indisposed.”

Rob’s jaw dropped. “When did this happen?”

“Not long ago.” Edeva took Rob’s mailed arm and tried to propel him toward the gate. “I put him in the upper bedchamber. He should be well in a few hours.”

Rob set his feet. “Jesu, are you certain? Should you not see to him?”

“The matter of the men at the gate seems more pressing. I’ll tell you what to say.”

Having been under the care of a woman for the past weeks, Rob was used to receiving orders from them, and he finally submitted to Edeva’s urgings.

When they reached the gatehouse ladder, Osbert was in a state. “The archers are in position as you asked, milady. But it still feels strange to me. Why should we not let these men in? Why should we prepare for attack? They are Normans, like us.”

Rob gave her a look. “Yea, that is right, lady. Why should we think these men mean us ill?”

Edeva thought she would explode with frustration. “Before he left, Lord Brevrienne warned that there might be a threat to Oxbury. We must guard his interests.”

“But surely he thought the threat would come from Saxons,” Rob said.

“Are you so certain Brevrienne does not have other enemies?” she demanded. “From what I heard of it, before your people came to harass the English, they fought bitterly among themselves in Normandy for many years. How can you assume that such warlike men have suddenly become peace-loving?”

“But William outlawed fighting among his nobles,” Osbert said, quoting the king’s decree like a child reciting by rote. “He said that if any of them fought against each other here in England, he would withdraw the lands awarded to them.”

Gritting her teeth, Edeva forbore to point out that, human nature being what it was, simply outlawing an activity seldom eradicated it. Instead, she said, “Mayhaps you are right and these men mean us no harm. But ’tis only prudent to be certain before we open the gates.”

Both men agreed to this, and Rob slowly climbed the ladder, Edeva a step behind him. When they reached the tower, she situated herself near the low wall by an arrow notch, where she could not be seen, but from where she could advise Rob on what to say.

“Identify yourselves, and state your business with the manor of Oxbury,” Rob called out to the leader of the force.

“My name is Ralph of Bourges, and I come on behalf of Lord William, king of England and duke of Normandy.’

“The king!” Rob turned to speak to Edeva. “Of course we must let them in.”

“Nay, nay,” she hissed. “Ask him if he has any document identifying him as the king’s man.”

Rob did so. Edeva could hear the arrogance in the man’s voice as he responded. “Of course I have documents identifying me. But they are packed away on one of the sumpter ponies. If you will let us in, I will have a man get them out and show you.”

“Tell him we will see the documents first,” Edeva said. Rob regarded her with dismay. ’Twas clear he was not used to arguing with men who gave him orders. “Tell him,” she insisted.

“My lord,” Rob began, “there have been troubles here, and we must be cautious. If it so please you, we would see the document ere we open the gates.”

“Nay, it does not please me!” the man shouted. “I was told this manor was firmly under the control of one of the king’s men, but it appears that Norman authority has yet to be established. William will be most displeased to learn of this. Indeed, he may well rescind the grant of this property after such a display of defiance! Tell me, sir knight, what will Lord Brevrienne do when he returns and finds that through your foolishness, he has lost Oxbury?”

Rob shot Edeva a stricken look, and from the ladder, she heard Osbert call out, “Good God, lady, we must let them in!”

Edeva drew a deep breath. Bourges’s threats and his refusal to show his credentials convinced her that he was up to some trickery. But how could she persuade Rob and Osbert? Somehow, she must contrive it so Bourges revealed he was not truly acting on the king’s behalf.

“Tell him that we will meet him halfway,” Edeva said. “That you will send a man out to discuss this matter face-to-face.” When Rob looked skeptical, she added, “Certainly, that is not an unreasonable request. If the man has nothing to hide, why would he refuse?”

Rob thought on this, and then turned back to the ramparts. “Although I’m certain you speak the truth, Bourges,” he called down, “I must follow the orders given to me by Lord Brevrienne. To break the stalemate, I will come out to you.”

“As you will,” Bourges’s voice was harsh with contempt. Edeva saw Rob’s jaw tighten.

“You are right, lady,” he said. “Something is not right here. This man’s rudeness alarms me. I cannot think the king would employ one such as him on a peaceful mission.”

“You’re going out to meet him?” Edeva asked.

“Yea, ’tis the only way. If he fails to produce a missive from the king, we will know Bourges plays us false.”

“But I fear for you. You are barely recovered from your wound, and now you go to meet a man who may be a deadly enemy.” Edeva’s insides twisted with anxiety. She was fond of Rob. If anything happened to him, she would be wracked with remorse.

“’Tis time I quit my sickbed and acted as a soldier, lady.”

Edeva nodded, reminding herself that the man was a knight, trained to face death on a daily basis. Yet, as Rob climbed down the ladder and motioned for the guards to open the gate to let him pass, she wondered how she would ever explain to Jobert if the sweet-faced young knight was hurt or killed.

She moved closer to the edge of the tower so she could see over it to watch the scene below. Foreboding afflicted her as she beheld the mass of armed men crowded together on the trackway. With their mail gleaming like fish scales and the points of their lances sticking up like prickly spikes, the Norman force reminded her of some hideous creature about to ravage Oxbury.

She told herself that she had once viewed Jobert and his men the same way, but the choking dread would not leave her.

Rob walked out to meet the leader of the force. His sword was sheathed, to show he went in peace. As he approached Bourges, the knight climbed from his mount and strode to meet him.

Edeva could not hear what they said to each other. She held her breath, praying that Rob would be careful, not the easygoing soldier who had once guarded her so carelessly.

Bourges gestured that Rob should follow him back to the rear of the train where the packhorses waited, stamping their feet in-the cold. Edeva knew a momentary sense of relief. Mayhap the man did have a missive from the king after all. They might have worried for naught.

When they were halfway down the line of soldiers, Bourges suddenly shouted, “Seize him.” The two nearest knights wheeled their horses, pinning Rob between them. Within seconds, the rest of the army began to move into battle formation.

They were going to be attacked! Edeva felt as if her legs would give out beneath her, and she fought the urge to grab helplessly for the edge of the rampart. Without Alan or Rob to give orders, she was in charge of the palisade’s defense. Mother of God, she knew nothing about this sort of warfare!

She dashed down the ladder, hoping Osbert had some idea of what to do. By the time she reached the bottom, she had thought of a plan of her own. “Barricade the gate!” she yelled. “And give the order for the archers to prepare to fire!”

Like the good soldier he was, Osbert immediately echoed her orders in his booming voice. Then he turned back to her. “What’s happened?”

“They have Rob, and it appears that they mean to charge the gate.”

He regarded her only a second before cramming his helmet onto his head and drawing his sword. “The treacherous bastards!” he thundered. “By God, we’ll gut them all!”

“Brevrienne, Brevrienne!” he bellowed, starting a chant that echoed through the palisade. Edeva watched in amazement as the Saxons gathered in the yard joined in.

Then an arrow landed a few paces from the hall, and Edeva remembered the danger. “Get the children into the chapel!” she screamed. “The rest of you, pull out the water barrels and be ready to put out fires!”

The Oxbury archers shot hail after hail of arrows, trying to prevent the Norman force from getting near enough to attack the palisade directly. The invaders returned fire, loosing arrows dipped in pitch and set ablaze.

At first the enemy’s fiery arrows fell harmlessly to the ground, then one landed on the thatch of the stables and the battle was on.

Within moments, it seemed that everywhere Edeva looked, there was a fire. She joined the rabble of shouting servants and took her place in one of the lines of people passing buckets of water from the cisterns to the fire.

Time passed in a blur. Edeva’s eyes burned from the smoke, her throat felt raw. How long could they keep this up? she wondered. Even if they kept the palisade from burning down, there were other threats. Bourges and his force could easily use a battering ram to break down the gate. Once inside, what would they do?

There was pause in the action as the fire line shifted to meet a new threat. Edeva stopped for breath and reached down to feel for the dagger strapped to her ankle. She would not die easily, of that they could be certain! She would fight for her life, and that of the life beginning inside her.

She’d known that morning, when she vomited for the third day in a row, that she was carrying Jobert’s child. The awareness filled her with awe and joy—and now that all their lives were threatened, with a fierce will to survive.

The blaze threatening the tannery was close to the water supply, and Edeva took the opportunity to leave the fire line and seek out Osbert. Mayhaps he would know what to do, how to defend the palisade from the next assault.

When she reached the gate, a begrimed soldier met her. “They’re leaving,” he told her exultantly.

“All of them?” she asked.

“Yea, the whole force.”

Edeva climbed the ladder to see for herself.

Indeed, the enemy appeared to be in retreat. But unlike the young knight, she did not believe it reason to celebrate. Men like that did not ride away simply because their first attack was thwarted.

“C
hrist’s bones!” Hamo exclaimed. “This is hopeless! I doubt the king himself could find a room in London this night”

Jobert nodded grimly. Since arriving in the city, they’d found it even more crowded than last time. “We might as well return to the others and tell them we must camp outside the city walls,”

“At least now we do not have to worry about what to do with the Saxon prisoners while we wait for an audience with the king,” Will said cheerfully.

The rest of them glared at the squire. After the harrowing night just passed, none of them relished sleeping on the frozen ground.

“With luck, I will get in to see William quickly,” Jobert said. “In fact, I will go to Westminster now and see if I might have a word with the king ere he has his evening meal.”

“Who goes with you and who returns to join the others?” Hamo asked.

Jobert regarded his men thoughtfully. He misliked splitting up his forces further. If there were a spy among them, this was likely when the man would act “Hamo, Giles, Fulk—you will come with me. The rest of you go back and join the others waiting with the wain.”

“Must we keep the prisoners fettered?” Will asked. “They have already proven they respect their oath to you, and they would be more comfortable if they were freed.”

“With their obvious Saxon blood, it is for their own protection that we maintain the appearance that they are prisoners. If they were allowed to roam free, some passing Norman might think to make sport of them.”

Will looked downcast, and Jobert suspected the squire had formed some sort of friendship with young Alnoth. The two of them were of an age, and ignoring the contrast between the Saxon’s fair hair and Will’s dark curls, of similar build and appearance.

Jobert and his escort wearily mounted their horses once more and set off for Westminster.

The abbey was also more crowded than last time they visited. Jobert knew a sinking feeling as he observed the noisy throng stationed at the entrance to the building where the king resided. Without Girard’s influence, they might wait days for an audience.

Fortunately, Jobert recognized the knight stationed at the door. “Well met, Warrene of Toscny,” he greeted him. “I see you’ve risen high. The king’s personal guard, are you now?”

“Brevrienne! Yea, I am sworn to William’s service, and ’tis not a bad sort of duty. The food is better than average, the women plump and accommodating.” The knight winked merrily.

“And some power comes with the duty, I’ll wager. No doubt you have your say in who gets in to see the king.”

“Ah, I see now. You mean to use your good will with me to get an audience.”

“’Tis not a frivolous matter. William charged me a fortnight ago to subdue the rebel Saxons in the area of my fief. I can report to him that I have done that. Of a certes, he will be pleased to learn that at least my portion of Wiltshire is securely in Norman hands.”

“He will at that. There is rumor of trouble in the southwest. Though he keeps court here until Easter, when spring comes, the king marches into battle once again.” Warrene scowled. “What ails these English, that they cannot see when they are beaten? The Londoners submitted easily enough. Why do so many others resist?”

“The Londoners grow rich off William’s troops, but for the other Saxons who have lost their lands and livelihoods, Norman conquest is a disaster. Even if they surrender and submit to the lord who now holds their property, the best they can expect is to serve in his army. Wealthy noblemen have been reduced to landless knights, and they do not take kindly to their diminished station. Would you?”

“Most likely not. Norman gain is Saxon loss, in truth. I had not thought of it from their side.”

“Most Normans have not,” Jobert agreed. “I’m not certain I would have either if I was not smitten with a Saxon woman. She taught me that her people can be valuable allies.”

Warrene grinned. “Is that how you secured your property then, with kisses and fond love words?”

Jobert smiled back. “’Tis not so useless a method as you might think. Though men wield the power of the sword, I vow women are the cleverer ones. They find more subtle ways to enforce their will. Can any argue that Queen Matilda could not have the best of the king if she so wished it?”

“Blessed Jesu, such thinking gives me the shivers! If I get you in to see William, will you cease such morbid philosophizing?”

“I’ll not speak another word on it,” Jobert assured him.

The anteroom to the king’s private chamber was filled to bursting. Knights, merchants, clerics—men of every ilk waited to argue their causes and request favors. Jobert took his place among them and considered what he would say.

He wished that the rest of the Saxon prisoners had not escaped. Although he expected no further trouble from them, he was not certain how William would see the matter. Mayhaps he could discreetly delete that detail from his report.

The clerk called his name and he went in. The king was seated at a table, eating while he perused the pile of parchment set before him. A clerk sat to his right, pointing out some detail on a document.

Jobert waited while the king finished his business. At last, William looked up, and mouth full from the capon leg he was gnawing on, nodded.

“Your highness.” Jobert bowed low.

“Do you bring me good news or ill?” William asked.

“Good, my lord. The rebels harassing Oxbury have been captured. Among them are a boy and an old man who I have brought to you for judgment. Since these two aided me in the capture of the others, I forbore to hang them. In fact, with your permission, I would like to accept their oaths and offer them a place in my mensie.”

William’s deep-set eyes narrowed. “You are willing to trust men who once rose up against you?”

“You have been known to do such a thing, my lord.”

“And mayhaps I have been overhasty at times.”

Jobert hesitated. How far dare he go in arguing for Alnoth’s and Withan’s lives? “My lord, the men in question saved my life. I think I owe them something for that.”

“And how did they save your life?”

Jobert ignored his doubts and plunged ahead. “I thought to bring the rest of the rebels to you for judgment. There was an escape attempt on the way here, and I woke to find one of the prisoners with a knife at my throat. If the Saxon youth had not distracted the man so I could get away, I would not be alive to bring this matter before you.”

William rose from his high-backed chair. “What happened to the man who tried to kill you?”

“Dead, my lord.”

“Were there others who also sought to escape?”

“Yea, my lord.

“And where might they be?”

Inwardly wincing, Jobert answered, “I know not, although I expect no further trouble from them. The man who was killed was the leader of the rebels. Without him, I vow they will not harass Oxbury further.”

William began to pace. “But they might well join some rebel forces elsewhere. I cannot say I am pleased with this news, Brevrienne. I charged you with subduing the rebels. All you have done is run them off your demesne. I ask you, why should I honor any of your requests, when I cannot depend on you to carry out your duty?”

I am caught in a trap
, Jobert thought miserably. By trying to save Alnoth and Withan, he had lost further ground with William.

The king turned his back and approached the pile of work on the table, as if signaling Jobert’s dismissal.

“There is one other thing, my lord.” Jobert drew a deep breath before continuing on. He might be risking everything, but it was his only hope. “I don’t believe that all the troubles at Oxbury have been caused by Saxons. I believe that someone else has been aiding the rebels and causing me difficulties.”

William cocked his head. “And have you any idea who this ‘someone’ might be?”

“Robert de Valois, my lord. You know that he hates me, and blames me for his daughter’s decision to enter a convent. I think he has set men to spy on me and paid them to inflict damage in whatever way they can.”

“What proof do you have?”

“Strange things, my lord. A few weeks ago, the rebels’ attacks suddenly became more daring, their awareness of the palisade’s weaknesses much more acute. Someone had to be helping them.”

“What else?”

“I was injured while in Gloucestershire in the attempt to suppress the rebels there—shot in the shoulder by a crossbow bolt. No one else around me was hurt, and from what I can learn of it, the crossbow is not a Saxon weapon. I believe now that the bowman’s intent was to kill me.”

“Now you talk murder, a very serious charge.”

“Yea, my lord. But you well know that Valois hates me enough to plot my death.”

William paused and drummed his fingers on the table, then looked at Jobert. “I will not say I don’t believe you. My instinct tells me Valois is capable of such ruthlessness. But your proof is slim, indeed, near nonexistent. And...” He arched a brow meaningfully. “Valois is a powerful force in Normandy With the arduous task ahead of me here in England, I cannot afford to offend my allies there.”

“So, what do you advise, my lord? That I go back to Oxbury and wait for the next attempt on my life, the next threat to my property?”

“You must do what you see fit, Brevrienne. I have lived all my life with the shadow of the assassin’s blade hovering over me. All I can advise you is to surround yourself with men who have more to benefit from your remaining alive than from your death. In the end, your fate is in the hands of God anyway.”

Jobert could not be angered by William’s casual attitude. In truth, the king had survived numerous challenges to his power, beginning in his boyhood when he woke in a blood-soaked bed and found that his trusted seneschal and protector had been murdered next to him while he slept.

The king sat down at the table, and Jobert realized his audience was nearly at an end. “And what of the Saxon prisoners?” he asked. “What is your judgment for them?”

“It appears you need all the loyal soldiers you can find, Brevrienne. If you desire to accept their vow of allegiance, you may do so.”

“And the matter of my marriage to Oxbury’s heiress?”

William did not look up. “I have not yet decided.”

* * *

“What think you, lady?” Osbert came up beside Edeva on the gatetower, and his steady gaze met hers.

“I think they will try again.”

He nodded. “The archers struck a few, but ’tis scarce more than a burr in a bear’s paw to an army such as that. It puzzles me that they were so easily turned away.” Below the helmet, his mouth twisted into a frown. “’Tis almost as if they meant to harass us, but not overtake the palisade.”

“I know. Something is not right here. What is their plan?”

“To learn that, we must consider why they came here to begin with. If we had opened the gate to them, as Bourges requested, what would they have done?”

Edeva shrugged. “Seized control of the manor and murdered all inside?”

“And when Brevrienne returned?”

“I suppose they would kill him as well.”

“But their actions would eventually be reported to the king and Bourges would end up an outlaw. William will not tolerate private war among his barons. Bourges can conquer Oxbury, but he cannot claim it, not without writ from the king. And if he had that, why bother doing battle at all?”

“’Tis a puzzle.”

“Yea, and we must decipher it.”

Edeva sighed. She did not feel up to solving riddles at this time.

Beornflaed called to her from the bottom of the ladder. “My lady, is it safe for the children to leave the chapel? They are hungry and fussy,” the cook added apologetically. “If the danger is past, ’twould seem better to let them leave for now, in case they must seek shelter there again later.”

“Yea, feed them and let them have their rest. Where is the priest, by the by? Did he not stay with you?”

“I have not seen Father Reibald,” Beornflaed answered. `In fact, I believe he has left the palisade. Before the enemy soldiers even arrived, I saw him by the postern gate.”

The priest was missing, having conveniently disappeared before the palisade was attacked. Edeva thought it odd but then, Father Reibald was a strange man. The way he pretended to admire her, even though he did not. His suggestions that Jobert was unfit to control Oxbury, that King William would send another man to take his place...

Edeva stared blindly across the yard. Father Reibald had warned that another Norman would come to claim Oxbury. What if Bourges were that man?

“Lady, what do we do next?” Osbert prompted.

She turned to him. “If we could find the priest, we might find the answers we seek.”

“How is he entangled in this?”

“I know not. But he was seen leaving the palisade ere Bourges and his men even arrived.”

Osbert gave her a puzzled look. Edeva decided she did not have time to explain her suspicions. If Father Reibald was a spy, ’twas unlikely he would return to the palisade until the invaders had triumphed.

“Send your swiftest man down to the village,” she told Osbert. “Have him offer the women and children there sanctuary inside the palisade. I fear what Bourges and his men will do if they return.”

Osbert nodded and left.

Edeva remained on the tower, thinking furiously. What if she sent a man to London to find Jobert and alert him to what was happening? She gazed up at the overcast sky. A storm was brewing. If it snowed, ’twould be near impossible for a lone knight to get to London in time. Should she risk it?

Below, she heard the creak of the gate opening. A knight on horseback—probably Payne—started down the muddy trackway toward the village. Edeva fought the urge to call him back and send him to London instead. She must see to the safety of the villagers first, then she could decide what her next action would be.

The gate clanged shut, and Edeva climbed down the ladder. She paused to speak to a dozen different people in the yard, reassuring them, answering questions. The turmoil inside her deepened. Everyone depended on her and looked to her to make sound decisions regarding the safety of Oxbury. She wanted to scream that she didn’t know a thing about defending a fortress. She wanted to run away. Going to the chapel seemed the next best thing.