The Marriage Prize (49 page)

her to Dover Castle with a force of eighty knights,

commanded by Sir Rickard de Burgh. This would ensure

peace in the eastern counties, keep the Cinque Ports loyal,

and make sure no aid for the king was brought in from France.

With his son Simon commanding the forces of Surrey and

Sussex to keep peace in the South, de Montfort and his own

men-at-arms headed west to bring the rebel Marcher barons

to heel.

When Simon de Montfort arrived at the city of Gloucester, the

castle looked like an armed camp; moreover, he found Gilbert

de Clare in a truculent mood. The fiery-tempered youth was

incensed that the de Montfort family held al the power in

England. That night, the sky was lit up by the fires of armed

horsemen who were camped on the wooded hil s surrounding

Gloucester, and Simon realized that if he did not appease

Gilbert the Red, they would be at war. Simon immediately

promised Gilbert a governing role, but the young earl

remained uncommitted.

The next day, Henry de Montfort rode in with the mortifying

news that Lord Edward had escaped from Hereford. Although

Simon berated his son for his lax vigilance, he had feared in

his bones that Prince Edward Plantagenet could not be kept

caged. He immediately issued his soldiers marching orders

for Hereford, for if he al owed Edward to remain free, men

everywhere would flock to his cause and civil war would erupt

again. Before they could depart, however, Simon's spies

brought him the urgent news that John de Warenne, Earl of

Surrey, had landed at Pembroke with a huge fighting force.

Knowing the Cinque Ports of the east coast were closed to

them, they had sailed around England to land on the west

coast of Wales.

Now, Simon de Montfort was torn. Should he try to recapture

Edward, or should he march into Wales and, with the military

aid of his al y Llewelyn, wipe out the forces that had landed at

Pembroke? He decided the latter was more pressing and

urged Gilbert, Earl of Gloucester, to join him. Gilbert was

unfriendly and evasive, and Simon de Montfort realized he

could not depend on his support, so before he crossed the

River Severn, de Montfort sent urgent instructions to his son

Simon to gather the loyal

forces of the South and East and bring them to join his own

army.

* * *

At Ludlow, the royalist army grew larger and stronger each

day. Edward Plantagenet, exhilarated with his freedom, was

fil ed with zeal and determination, which was contagious to

those who gathered about him. He was a far different man

from the impetuous and reckless commander who had fought

at the Battle of Lewes. He had learned some bitter lessons on

the battlefield, and during his months of imprisonment, he had

had little to do but plot revenge and study strategy.

Edward was like a golden god, bursting with energy and fil ed

with a consuming fire to take up arms against his enemy and

win back England for the crown. The warlord himself had

taught him that battles were won with speed and fury, but

Edward now realized that with shrewd strategy and meticulous

planning, battles could be won before they were ever fought.

First and foremost, your men-at-arms must be wel trained and

disciplined to take orders. To win, you also needed to choose

the battlefield and place your troops in the best position. If you

could add the element of surprise, the battle was won!

Rodger de Leyburn's job was to maintain communication

between the various groups and factions that supported the

crown. Basical y, he rode back and forth between Edward at

Ludlow and the towns of the western barons, tal ying numbers.

Amazingly, he found that he need do little recruiting, for the

news of Lord Edward's escape had turned the tide so that the

whole of the western region was ablaze with martial activity.

Rodger thundered into the bailey of squat Ludlow Castle on

his great black destrier, with Griffin at his back. Inside he saw

Edward's tal frame bent over a map table as the prince

conferred with Lincoln de Warenne. "The Lion and the Lynx,

just the two I hoped to find. I've ridden straight from Gilbert in

Gloucester, and the news is al good!"

Lincoln poured Rod a tankard of ale to wash the dust of the

road from his throat, as Edward clapped his friend on the

back.

"Simon de Montfort took his army to Gloucester expecting

Gilbert to join him in bringing the Marcher barons to heel. It

was at Gloucester he learned of your escape, and he

was at Gloucester he learned of your escape, and he

immediately gave the army its orders to march to Hereford."

Rod held up his hand when he saw Edward's look of savage

anticipation. "Before they could leave, his scouts brought him

the news that John de Warenne had landed at Pembroke

288

with a fighting force, and Simon has crossed the Severn into

Wales to meet them."

Edward threw back his head and laughed with glee. "The fool!

His brain must be addled with age! He has made a tactical

mistake crossing into Wales. His first priority should have

been me! His force is greater than mine at the moment. He

should have marched directly north and turned our flank

toward the army young Simon commands, trapping us

between."

"Our force here in Ludlow may be smal er than his, but you

haven't seen the men Gilbert has gathered at Gloucester. The

Forest of Dean and every foot of the hil s about the city are

covered with armed camps. It must have been a terrible shock

for Simon de Montfort when Gilbert refused to join him," Rod

declared.

"I appreciate the importance of detaching Gilbert of

Gloucester from him, and I have you to thank, Rod, for

persuading him to switch his al egiance to me."

The swarthy Mortimer stepped into the map room. "Three

days ago, your brother John landed at Pembroke with a huge

fighting force," he informed Lincoln de Warenne.

"Aye, de Leyburn has just brought the same news. Simon de

Montfort has crossed into Wales to move against them,"

Lincoln said with a worried frown.

Mortimer grinned. "I had scouts posted in Pembroke to lead

them north. They are more than halfway to Wigmore and

Ludlow. When Simon de Montfort takes his army up the Usk

Val ey, the hunter wil find his quarry has flown."

Edward straightened up and hit his head on a low beam.

"Splendor of God, we are going to need bigger headquarters.

There is no longer any need for us to skulk in the borders.

Since de Montfort has crossed into Wales, I intend to make

this side of the River Severn mine! We wil patrol the entire

length from Worcester to Gloucester," Edward said decisively.

"In that case, my lord, I had better see what I can do about

securing Worcester as our new headquarters." Rod was only

half jesting; none in the room doubted his powers of

persuasion.

At Pershore, Rosamond saw the results of Rodger's wise

decisions

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everywhere. The entire household was happy and industrious

under the caring management of her steward, Hutton, and his

wife, Lizzie. The sunshine spil ing through the sparkling

windows showed that even the corners of the chambers were

spotless and the furniture gleamed with polish. The kitchens

were immaculate and the stil room rafters hung with savory

herbs.

The young maids were delighted to have a baby in the castle,

and begged Rosamond to al ow them to bathe him, dress

him, and carry him about. Nan supervised them with a watchful

eye while she kept the other on Rosamond, who was quiet,

pale, and introspective. Nan urged her to spend time

outdoors. The gardens were a profusion of late summer

blooms, and beyond the trees, the River Avon flowed gently,

bringing an air of tranquility to al of Pershore.

Rosamond knew this was the haven she needed to sort out

her tangled thoughts and emotions. As she lingered in the

solitude of the gardens, her mind went back to the time when

she was twelve and she received the terrible news.

Rosamond had never dared to do this before; fear and self-

protection had prevented her. Now she remembered Lady

Eleanor tel ing her there had been a tragic jousting accident,

and that her beloved brother Giles had lost his life. She

recal ed being too numb with shock to ask questions, but

recol ected that she had overheard the kitchen servants

whispering about dangerous tournaments where chal engers

were ofttimes trampled by their opponents' destriers. That

was when her trampling dreams had begun. Her grief had

been unbearable, and she had been convinced that she had

lost her brother because she loved him.

As Rosamond looked back she remembered how kind and

compassionate everyone had been to her, and she now

understood their reluctance to discuss the bloody details with

a twelve-year-old girl. What she did not understand was why

she hadn't asked questions and learned the circumstances

surrounding the tragedy when she was older. Rosamond

realized the answer was lack of courage; it had been easier to

blot it out and never speak of it.

Now, as she thought about that day, it came to her how

devastating it must have been for Giles's companions to know

their reckless disobe- 290

dience in attending the tournament at Ware had resulted in the

death of their friend. How much distress, sorrow, and self-

loathing they must have suffered. How sobering it must have

been for fifteen-year-old Lord Edward ... how horrific for

Rodger de Leyburn!

Like a revelation, it came to Rosamond that he had betrothed

her because he felt responsible for her. Because Giles

Marshal had died by his hand, Rodger de Leyburn had

stepped forward like a knight-errant to shoulder the

responsibility of his friend's young sister. He had felt honor-

bound. Then, five years later, when he saw her grown to

womanhood, he had become instantly attracted.

Rosamond final y admitted that she too had been instantly

attracted to the bold young knight, whose dark beauty was so

irresistibly potent. She had rebuffed him because she never

again wanted to suffer the wrenching pain of loss. But Rodger

again wanted to suffer the wrenching pain of loss. But Rodger

de Leyburn would not be denied. He had vowed he would

never let her go, and in the end, she had surrendered. Her

mind conjured a vision of him that was as vivid as if he stood

before her. His powerful body exuded strength, and that was

what had first attracted her. She shivered as she thought of the

strength of his hands and his wrists, as thick as oak branches

from wielding sword and lance.

Giles Marshal had died from a lance thrust, yet those same

hands that had couched the lance had snatched her from the

raging river and helped Nimbus to foal twins. She

remembered how gentle his hands had been when he had

delivered her baby and ended her torture. He had taken one

life, but given her back another, and she knew in her heart that

Rodger de Leyburn could never commit murder.

As Rosamond's doubt dropped away, her thinking became

crystal clear. Though she had fled from Rodger de Leyburn,

his presence was ever with her. He walked beside her in the

gardens, his hand joined hers when she rocked her son's

cradle, and his warmth enveloped her throughout the night. A

part of him was with her, whether she was sleeping or awake,

and Rosamond realized that what she carried with her was his

love.

She was inextricably bound to him, just as love and trust were

inextricably bound together. It was amazingly simple. To trust

was to love, ` 291

and to love was to trust. Rosamond acknowledged that she

loved Rodger de Leyburn with al her heart and with al her

soul; and it fol owed that if she loved him, she must trust him.

He had sworn that Giles's death was accidental, and

Rosamond knew she trusted him enough to believe him.

She remembered the raw pain in Rodger's eyes, and realized

how difficult it must have been carrying such a secret burden.

To have accidental y kil ed the brother of the woman you loved

must have often been unendurable. How he must have longed

for her forgiveness, yet dreaded hurting her with the truth.

Rosamond realized that without Rodger she was bereft; with

him she was complete. My life's story is up to me, she told

herself. / choose happiness! Miraculously, she was suddenly

fil ed with joy, and she understood that love real y was a

miracle. She looked down at her baby son, who was sleeping

at her feet. She picked him up and kissed him. "I have

decided that your name wil be Rodger!"

Twenty-seven

When the royal steward arrived at Worcester Castle, Sir

Rodger received his usual warm welcome from the staff, most

of whom he had hired himself when he and Lord Edward first

returned from Gascony. The exception was the new castel an