The Silver Falcon (56 page)

Odon ran his fingers through his lank hair, his face twisted in a triumphant leer. By pure chance, he had noticed Robert on his way across the market square. He had changed direction and fought
his way through the crowd so as not to lose sight of him and followed Robert all the way to the latrines.

He’s a criminal sodomite, Odon gloated to himself. Isn’t that good news!

When Robert emerged from behind the latrines, flushed with his exertions, Odon clenched his fists. “You’d have done better not to say anything to my Carla,” he snarled. He was about to pounce when Adam ran up to him.

“Father, will you buy me a pony? I’ve seen one in the market. Tell him, Roland.” He pulled at the tunic of the young knight accompanying him. “Tell him. The pony’s brown and has lovely soft eyes. Please, Father.”

Odon saw Robert disappear into the church. He looked uncertainly at Roland.

“The pony is no longer young. It’s calm and obedient, just right for a boy of his age,” Roland murmured approvingly.

Odon peered over Roland’s shoulder. Robert would not stay in the church forever, but with Roland and the boy also here, he would not be able to follow Robert.

The young knight whispered the price of the pony in Odon’s ear.

“Very well, then.” Odon sighed, took out his purse, and counted the sum into the knight’s hand. “I have something to attend to. Wait for me at the south gate once you’ve bought the pony, and take my horse with you.”

“Thank you, Father, thank you.” Adam was hopping from one foot to the other in his excitement.

Odon watched them go, making sure they really did go back to the market.

Someone like Robert deserves to be punished, Odon thought bitterly. To his regret, the unmentionable vice was increasingly tolerated. Sinners were hardly persecuted at all anymore since the rumor spread that King Richard had publicly admitted to it, twice.
There was probably no point, therefore, in denouncing Robert to the magistrate. Odon stroked his chin. Suddenly, he remembered the looks Robert had bestowed upon William when he’d thought no one was watching. Odon had been unable to make sense of them at the time, but now it all fell into place.

Robert did not come out of the church for a long time.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” Odon murmured in his ear from behind. At first he had intended to grab Robert by his smock, but the thought of getting too close to him was repulsive.

Robert whirled around as if the devil had him by the tail. “What do you mean, Sir Odon?” he asked, acting unconcerned, but his trembling voice betrayed the fear coursing through his limbs.

“You should never have turned my Carla against me.”

Robert relaxed a little. “I don’t know what you mean, Sir Odon,” he said. He was about to turn away when Odon punched him in the shoulder and knocked him to the ground.

“I don’t think you should act so superior, you miserable sodomite!”

All the color drained out of Robert’s face. His cheeks were suddenly white as snow, his lips bloodless, his eyes wide as they looked at Odon in disbelief.

Odon spat on the ground in disgust.

“I saw you. In the latrines. How do you think your friend William would like it if he found out what you get up to there?” Odon stroked his smooth chin again. “I’m wondering whether I should tell William myself, so that I can see his disgusted expression, his disappointment, and his rage, or…” Odon grinned from ear to ear but did not finish the sentence.

“Or what?” Robert broke in.

“Or whether you would prefer to disappear from his life on your own free will. Send him word that you don’t want anything more to do with him, and I’m rid of you forever. A small price to
pay for a big sin, don’t you think? And in case you’re thinking of letting him onto your secret, I advise against it. Unless of course you want to heap even more guilt on yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it would certainly be hard for William to lose another wife. Things happen so easily. I hear the good Marguerite often goes out riding, all by herself.” Odon grinned spitefully. “All alone in the forest, and in her condition. As you know, that’s been the undoing of many a woman.”

“You’re a swine, Odon.”

“Hold your tongue, sodomite. Loud talk doesn’t make you a hero.” Odon gripped Robert by his surcoat, though it made him feel sick to have Robert so near. “If you don’t disappear from William’s life this very day, you’ll have his wife on your conscience. And believe me, it won’t be hard for me to throw suspicion your way. William will believe you followed her, and he’ll strangle you with his bare hands.”

“Robert,” William called again. “Robert, where are you?”

“He’s gone, my lord,” answered the young assistant William had hired only a few weeks earlier. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Gone? Where?” asked William. “We were going to start training the new passager.” More and more recently, Robert had been disappearing for half a day at a time without telling anyone where he was going. Did he have a secret lover?

“I don’t know, but he said to tell you he’s not coming back,” the assistant said timidly. “He packed up his things and left.”

William ran out and looked around. Perhaps Robert was still nearby. He ran to the stables in a panic; Robert’s horse was not there. “When did Robert leave?” he asked the stable boy breathlessly.

“A good while after the bells rang midday, my lord. He came in from Guildford, fetched his bundle, and left straightaway.”

William ran to the manor house and called Marguerite. “Did Robert come to see you before he left?”

When she walked solemnly toward him with her head down, he knew she had spoken with Robert. She looked up with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t understand. He was cold and abrupt with me, but I’m sure it pained him to be so. He didn’t explain—he just said he had no choice. William, you have to ride after him and bring him back.”

William felt an icy blast in his heart, remembering the remark Odon had made shortly after his wedding. Images of Robert and Marguerite whispering or laughing together thrust themselves into his mind. A stab of jealousy pierced his chest and left him gasping. He remembered the day he’d seen Robert kneeling before Marguerite in the great hall. She had burst into tears. Had he been declaring his love?

Nonsense! Didn’t Robert always have some romance? Hadn’t he kept disappearing for half a day at a time without saying where he was going? But what if he was secretly meeting Marguerite?

“William,” Marguerite interrupted his grim thoughts. “What’s the matter? Why haven’t you gone off to look for him?” She laid her hand on William’s arm, but he pulled away.

“He left word that he wasn’t coming back. Robert is a free man; he must know what he’s doing. I can’t force him to stay.” Having said this, he turned and left. As soon as he was far enough away, though, he whispered, close to tears, “Why, Robert? What have you done that you steal away like a thief?”

A
month after Robert’s unexpected disappearance, Marguerite brought a fine healthy boy into the world. He had a charming mop of red hair and was the spitting image of Ellenweore.

“He just doesn’t have her green eyes,” observed William, sounding almost disappointed.

“Oh, my love, infants’ eyes are always blue to begin with,” Marguerite said reassuringly. “You can’t see what color they really are until later. So don’t give up hope just yet.”

William lovingly kissed the tiny boy’s small but prominent nose. “I miss Robert,” he murmured, cradling the child in his arms. “I would have so liked to introduce him to Richard.” They had named the boy after Marguerite’s father, though the custom was to choose the name of the firstborn son from the father’s side. Since they did not know anything about William’s father, and since they were maintaining Richard de Hauville’s legacy, William had suggested Richard.

Naturally, William spoiled both mother and child for the next few weeks. He had apples and grapes brought to Marguerite in bed, ordered honey cakes to build up her strength, and carried little Richard around with him every day, at first only in the bedchamber, and then as far as the hall; eventually, he showed him to everyone in the manor. He was proud of his son.

Marguerite breast-fed the child, though she could have afforded a wet nurse. The boy flourished, and his young mother
soon recovered from the effort of childbirth and resumed her duties around the manor.

“Will you please let Richard sleep,” she scolded William as he tried to take the boy out of his cradle. “What about kissing me instead of him?” She laughed and spread her arms.

William put his arms around her waist.

Pregnancy had softened Marguerite’s body and made her even more beautiful. His hands slid down her back and onto her delightful behind. A roguish smile crept across his lips. He remembered very clearly what it felt like when he discovered the charming flaw there. It must have been two or three days after their wedding. Marguerite was standing in front of him, naked. His hand had slipped slowly down her back, and then he had turned her around so that he could feast on the sight of her small, firm buttocks. At first he thought she was just standing a little crooked, but the cleft that ought to divide the rump into equal halves had a definite leftward kink at the top. He had traced it with his index finger, and Marguerite had immediately tried to turn around.

“No, stay there,” he exclaimed. “It’s charming.”

“But mother said no one should…”

“Shh,” he replied, covering the spot with tender kisses that sent shudders of ecstasy up Marguerite’s spine.

William could feel his desire surging afresh as he remembered. He kissed her and murmured, “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

At that moment he could not help understanding Robert. Marguerite was so beautiful that one could not really blame him for falling in love with her. For the first time since Robert’s departure, William thought he understood why his friend had decided to leave. It must have simply been too painful to love Marguerite and see her every day without being able to possess her. Perhaps it
was right that Robert had distanced himself from both of them. Having no outlet for his love must have been as terrible for him as the constant awareness that he was betraying his best friend with every longing stare at his wife. William nodded almost imperceptibly. One thing was certain: he himself wouldn’t have behaved differently.

“The steward can carry out his duties without you for a while. Why don’t we go to Saint Edmundsbury soon?” Marguerite said, breaking into his thoughts and kissing his cheek gently. “I can hardly wait to meet your family and introduce the little one to them. What about you? Richard is five months old, and the weather is mild enough for us to travel easily.”

William suddenly noticed how homesick he felt. It wasn’t only Robert he missed; it was Jean and Isaac, as well as Rose and his mother.

“All right,” he said as Marguerite looked at him pleadingly. “Why not?”

“I wonder if Robert will ever come back,” she said suddenly, her voice troubled, almost wistful.

“I suppose you miss him,” he replied testily, letting her go.

“Of course I do. Don’t you?” Marguerite looked at him in astonishment.