The Silver Falcon (51 page)

William had sat in silence beside Robert during their meal, so deep in his thoughts that he did not notice the furrow in Robert’s forehead until they were leaving the great hall together. “You ought to be happy for me,” he said.

“So you’re going to marry her,” Robert confirmed harshly. His voice rang with disappointment. “I didn’t think you would be so easily bought.”

“You know as well as I do that I can’t refuse this marriage,” William said, looking at his friend in shock. “And why should I, anyway? I’ve earned it, and besides it’s an excellent opportunity.”

“To rise into the higher ranks, yes, I know, but aren’t you forgetting someone?” Robert demanded petulantly. “Someone who used to be important to you?”

“I shall never be able to love the woman the king has allocated to me as much as Marguerite. I know that,” said William. He knew he was doing his future wife an injustice, but it could not be otherwise. “But I shall respect her, and have Marguerite as the only one in my heart forever.”

“All you think about is women! I’m talking about
me
! What about me? You become Sir So-and-So. Fine. And me? Well, who knows? De Ferrers might even make me his new falcon master once you’re gone.”

“You’re jealous! I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that from anyone else, but I didn’t expect it from you,” William exclaimed angrily, shaking his head. “Surely you don’t begrudge me marriage and a title?”

“You no sooner find out you’re going to be a lord than you immediately doubt my friendship. You’re already like them, even though you’re not one of them yet. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to go,” Robert screamed before walking away.

“What’s got into you?” William muttered in disbelief.

The next morning, while William was busy seeing to the king’s falcons, de Ferrers and his men left the castle. William did not find out until they were already gone, and he was disappointed to be left behind. Robert had not even bid him farewell.

When the king himself set off a few days later, William took his place in the royal procession alongside the other falconers and mulled things over. Robert wasn’t jealous of the forthcoming marriage; he just didn’t want to lose his friend. William was angry with himself for not talking to him again. Robert was his best friend, and already he missed him. How was he going to set up a new falconry without him? Who would train the hounds they would need for hunting if not Robert? A future without him was unthinkable. William realized he had to do something.

He spurred on his horse and sped up until he caught up with the king. “My lord, would you grant me a request?”

“I give you a rich wife and you have further wishes?” said John peevishly. But then he laughed. “Go on, William, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Robert is a good falconer, and he has a gift for handling hounds,” William began hoarsely.

“And?”

“He would be a great help to me when I’m setting up the falconry.”

“I understand. But what am
I
supposed to do about it? If you pay him properly, I’m sure he’ll be glad to serve you. And if he’s a true friend to you, as I suspect he is, he won’t hesitate to follow you even if you can’t offer him as much as another master. I’m sure de Ferrers will be very reluctant to let him go, but your friend is a free man. He can decide for himself what he wants to do.”

“Then will you permit me to go and fetch him?”

“Return to us at Sevenoaks, southeast of London, within the week. I can’t allow you more time.”

“Thank you, sire. Thank you. I’ll see you at Sevenoaks.”

When William arrived at Oakham three days later, the de Ferrerses were surprised but welcomed him with open arms.

“Shouldn’t you be with the king?”

“He gave me permission to leave for a few days. I beg you, Sir Walkelin, don’t be angry with me. I’ve come because I’d like to persuade Robert to help me set up my new falconry. I know you value him as highly as I do. That’s why I’ve come to you first to ask for your approval.”

“First you and now him.” Sir Walkelin turned away and poured himself a cup of wine. He did not offer any to William. “Robert is a damned fine man.”

“I know, my lord, and he is profoundly loyal to you, as I always have been, too. He wouldn’t leave if he thought you would be angry. But we’ve worked together for so long—” William broke off. Sir Walkelin had volunteered to be a hostage for King Richard. He knew what friendship and loyalty meant.

“Since you left, he’s been neglecting his work. That being so, I can’t make him my master falconer. I’ll have to place someone else over him, and he won’t like that. As far as I’m concerned, he can go with you.” Sir Walkelin coughed, supporting himself on the edge of the table.

“Are you all right?”

“Why should I be all right? I’m old and worn-out. My back hurts after every ride, and whenever it rains—which, unfortunately, is often around here—my old joints give me trouble. I won’t be doing much hunting anymore. Henry will have to find himself new falconers. Now go. Go to Robert. I’m sure he’ll accept your offer all too willingly.”

“Thank you, my lord. May God bless you and reward you for your kindness.” William bowed and set off down the familiar path to the falconry.

“Leave me alone,
my lord
,” Robert exclaimed when William asked Robert to join him. “My place is here.”

“But I need your help to set up the falconry. Apparently it’s in a dreadful state. The king has given me only a few days. We’re supposed to rejoin him at Sevenoaks. Just think about the exciting challenges ahead for us!” William smiled encouragingly at Robert.

“I’m sorry, William. I can’t leave here.”

“But Sir Walkelin has agreed. Please.”

Robert shook his head defiantly. “Go now.”

It took William three long days to reach Sevenoaks, and he arrived at almost the same time as the king. The royal party had shrunk noticeably. Several of the barons had returned to their estates for some days, and only a few men remained with the king. A downcast William reported to the king, and when the latter asked where Robert was, he tried in vain to hold back the bitterness he felt. Why did Robert have to be so pigheaded?

The king paid no heed to William’s dark mood. He accepted the hospitality of this place, with its neat houses and welcoming people, for one night and then granted its charter as a city, which made it somewhat less dependent on the archbishop of Canterbury. The following day, he casually informed William that the house and lands that would be his after his wedding were only a short day’s journey away.

William did not know what to think. He could no longer feel glad about his new life, now that not even Robert would have a place in it. How would it all work out?

At daybreak, John gave the order to depart. They were just about to leave Sevenoaks when Robert arrived in haste.

“It looks as if I’ve arrived just in time,” he said, laughing sheepishly, and asked whether he could join them.

The king nodded, and a great weight was lifted from William’s heart. With Robert’s help, he would be able to fulfill all the new duties of his future life more easily. Although
he took pride in being a royal falconer, the realization that Marguerite would never be his was becoming all the clearer and increasingly unbearable. If, by giving up Richard de Hauville’s daughter and her lands, he might have been able to win Marguerite’s hand, he would have sacrificed his new prosperity without regrets. He would prefer to live poor and unnoticed with Marguerite than ennobled without her. But that option was not available.

He rode beside Robert in silence. The mist that had surrounded them in Sevenoaks had burned off, and the sun now bathed the bleak winter landscape in soft light, encouraging nostalgic thoughts. King John was in a hurry, though, and by dint of some hard riding they reached their destination before sunset.

During their last pause for rest, one of the knights had set off early and ridden ahead to warn of the king’s arrival. Thus it was that a good-looking man in his forties, with broad shoulders, an alert expression, and an equally alert mind, came out of the house to greet the king as they arrived.

“Sire, what a pleasure! It is a great honor to welcome you again, this time as king.” He bowed deeply.

“It seems an eternity since last I was here. I didn’t spend many days here, but they were all the happier for that.” The king looked at the man amiably. “This manor, and Richard’s daughter, are very dear to my heart. I have therefore chosen an extremely capable—though quite young—man as its future lord. He will continue Richard’s work and rebuild the falconry.” He put his hand on William’s shoulder. “This is William FitzEllen, son of the finest swordsmith in the land.” He tapped his sword belt in confirmation; his latest weapon from Ellenweore hung from it.

William blushed. His mother had made swords for King Richard; that John too bore one of her swords by his side at all times filled him with tremendous pride.

“Above all, though, he is an outstanding falconer,” John went on. “The steward has always rendered good service. You should rely on him in the future, too, as far as the manor house is concerned.”

“My lord,” the steward greeted William with a graceful bow. “Welcome to Roford.”

He cleared his throat. “What did you say the manor is called?” he asked, flustered.

“Roford Manor, my lord.”

“Roford,” William repeated, almost tenderly. “It sounds like Orford, doesn’t it? Orford is a port in East Anglia. My mother was born there.”

“Well, that must be a sign from heaven meaning God is with you and with this marriage,” John jovially teased him. “It looks as if you have not only my blessing for this wedding but also the Almighty’s. What more could you ask?” John turned to the steward again. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Then let the ceremony take place tomorrow,” said the king to William. “Brief and not too solemn, but you’re not the only man who wants to hold his bride in his arms as soon as he can. I haven’t seen my dear Isabelle for a long time, and I’m anxious to get back to her. I’m sure she’s waiting impatiently for me.” He winked conspiratorially at William. “She’s insatiable in love, and I treasure it in her.”

“If I may, sire, I will have a bath drawn for you and the groom,” the steward suggested.

“A shave would not be a bad thing. It can’t do him any harm to look a bit more presentable when he comes into his bride’s presence.” The king laughed, turning to William. “We’ll be setting off again immediately after the wedding. My queen is waiting for me south of the Thames. So if you’d like to look around your lands for a while first, I’m sure you have time before there’s enough hot water for our bath.”

“Everything around belongs to Roford, sir, whichever direction you ride. Would you like me to come with you for a while?” The steward looked at him expectantly.

“That won’t be necessary, thank you. I won’t be riding any more today. I just want to stretch my legs a little.”

Robert offered to accompany him, but William declined. “Leave me alone for a moment. I need some time to collect myself.”

“Ah, yes,” added the king almost as an afterthought. “If you see Marguerite, send her to me.”

“Marguerite?” At the sound of the name, William’s heart began to pound.

“Yes, she’ll have arrived by now.” He glanced at the steward, who confirmed with a nod. “She’s going to keep the queen company while I take care of government affairs,” the king explained, turning back to the steward. “I’d like to have a look at the books in the meantime.”

Stunned, William walked off. Did the king have to meet Marguerite here, of all places, and now? Why did he torment him so? Did he enjoy seeing others suffer? John probably didn’t even suspect how the thought of marrying someone other than Marguerite afflicted him. William took a deep breath. He felt terrible. Perhaps he should refuse the marriage? No, that was impossible. He knew he had to fall in with the king’s wishes; there was no choice. “So all this will be mine,” he whispered, looking around.

The manor house and the village were behind him. In a field not far from the edge of the forest, two foxes rubbed their noses together. “They want to get married,” he murmured pensively, sighing from the bottom of his heart. How happy the foxes were. They were free, and they could choose with whom they coupled.

“They look as if they like each other,” said a familiar voice from behind him.

“Marguerite!” William’s jaw dropped. Was it possible that she had grown even lovelier?

“How do you like the land? It will be yours soon.”

Her voice seemed to reach him from afar; he was so bewitched by her sparkling eyes. He fought the temptation to clasp her in his arms and never let go again. Then he shook his head sadly. “I know I should be happy about this bond, but I can’t. My heart is already plighted, even if there’s no hope of my love being returned.”

Tears appeared in the corners of Marguerite’s eyes, and he raised his hand to wipe them away. But then he dropped it and stared at the ground. If he touched her now, he would never let her go again, never mind marry some other woman.

“I wish I could. I’m sorry,” he stammered.

When he looked up again, Marguerite was running off. Had she understood that he meant her? Surely she knew he loved only her. Why else would he have asked the king for her hand? Even if she felt as he did, it wouldn’t alter anything. John had come to a decision and wouldn’t change his mind. William came within a hairbreadth of chasing Marguerite, seizing her, kissing and caressing her, but he couldn’t even put one foot in front of the other. The king would marry him to the daughter of a de Hauville tomorrow, thus making him a member of the most illustrious family of falconers in the land. That was a great honor, he reminded himself, so he had to behave honorably.

He took a deep breath, stood up straight, and decided to go back. The bath they were drawing for him was bound to do him good. He had to forget Marguerite, once and for all. Once he was Lord Roford, a great deal of work would await him. The falconry, the villages, the forest—he would have to take care of it all. Perhaps there wouldn’t be time to mourn Marguerite.