Warden of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book 8) (15 page)

“She shouldn’t leave Canterbury in case we need her again,” Cassie said.

I looked at Beatrice, who was staring at the ground. “I expect we can find you at the inn.”

“Yes, sire.” She curtseyed, and Cassie escorted her away.

Ieuan sneered. “Frenchmen.”

I ran a hand through my hair. This was a piece I really hadn’t wanted to fit into the puzzle.

“I can’t see how that helps us find Lee,” Darren said, but at the general silence that followed, he looked from one of us to the other. “What?”

I felt a chill at the back of my neck as Callum said, “Actually, it could.”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend?” I said.

“Scotland allied with France against England at various times throughout history,” Callum said.

“Llywelyn Fawr, my great-grandfather, reached out in that direction too.” I said. “It might seem natural for interests in Ireland to look to France for help in ridding Ireland of the Norman menace.”

Darren was still looking puzzled. “If Ireland unites with France to overthrow you, that still doesn’t rid Ireland of the Norman barons.”

“But as we discussed before, it creates chaos,” I said. “Upon my death, those same Norman barons would be looking to their estates in England, leaving their holdings in Ireland exposed.”

“Or so Lee might think,” Callum said.

I looked over my companions, calculating who I could spare from my side and what tasks I needed them to do. I started with Bevyn and Huw, who’d been moving among the refugees. I waved them over to me and gave them a rundown of the discussion so far. “I need every bit of information the Order can muster from its contacts.”

“Yes, my lord.” Bevyn said immediately, but then he hesitated, seeming about to say something else.

“What is it?” I said.

Bevyn moved in close. “The Order failed you, sire. We should have known what Lee was up to even before Huw brought his news from Wales. And now with this French link—if Lee was meeting with your enemies, we should have known about it.”

“You will have to address that within the Order,” I said. “Now is not the time for recriminations.”

Bevyn cleared his throat. “What I meant was that you might be better off using others for this task. I don’t want to fail you again.”

I scowled at him. “You tried to resign from my service once, as I recall. It didn’t go well.”

Bevyn’s eyes strayed to what remained of the castle, but he didn’t speak. I caught his arm. “You could not have predicted what happened. It is far beyond your experience.”

“As I was saying, sire,” he said. “You need someone else for this.”

“Who do you suggest?” I said. “You and your Order are what I have to work with, so I am expecting you to find out the information I need to stop Lee before he does something equally terrible. He spoke with Frenchmen. Start there. I want to know who they are, how long they were in Canterbury, and the name of their master.”

Bevyn swallowed. “Yes, sire.”

“Don’t doubt now. I have others for that.” Turning away before Bevyn could say anything else, I left the circle under the trees and strode towards Lili, who was talking quietly with Carew. “So you know already?” I said to my wife.

Lili nodded, though she looked hard at me for a second before putting her arms around my neck and looking up at me. “Don’t you dare do anything foolish.” And then before I could assure her that I wouldn’t, she shook a finger in my face. “You swore you wouldn’t last time, but you did anyway and you almost died.”

“I will do my best to stay out of harm’s way,” I said. “I always do.”

Lili took in a breath. “But you are the King of England. There’s only so much you can do to protect yourself. I know.”

I kissed her. “I love you.”

“Lee wants you dead,” she said. “You have never faced anyone like him before, not even Valence.”

“More than Lee, it may be his employer who wants me dead,” I said.

Lili raised her eyebrows. “His employer?”

“The King of France.”

“Ah. So that’s it.” She shrugged. “Well, better to know than to not know.”

We walked together to where Bronwen sat with Catrin and Arthur. While Catrin slept in Bronwen’s lap, Arthur was awake again, and he left the shelter of her arm at my approach.

I knelt in front of him and took his shoulders in my hands. “You have been very brave.”

“Someone blew up our castle.”

I’d spoken to him in American English, and he’d responded in the same language.

“Someone did,” I said. “Because of it, Daddy has to go to work now, and you can’t come with me.”

“Are you going to find the man who did it?”

“I am.” I looked into his eyes. “It will be your job to protect your mother and your little sister or brother until I get back.”

He nodded. The idea that a three-year-old could protect his mother was absurd, but it was something a father asked of his son, and Arthur would see the responsibility as his right. He would be king himself one day, and tonight he’d grown a little bit more in that role.

“Good boy.” I kissed his forehead, and he wrapped his arms around my neck.

I stood up, still hugging him. He was so big now that his feet almost reached my knees. “It’s going to be okay. We lost a castle, but we’re all safe.”

“I was scared,” he said.

“I know. I was too. It’s okay to be scared. What’s important is to do the brave thing anyway,” I said. “That’s what I do.”

He nodded into the hollow of my neck. Lili approached and hugged us both, and I transferred Arthur to her arms. “You need to go.” I kissed her and then kissed Arthur one more time.

Carew had been waiting in the shadows under a nearby tree for me to finish saying my goodbyes. I tipped my head to him, and he bent his head in a slight bow. Then he helped Lili mount one of the horses that had been brought from the castle and handed Arthur up to her. Ieuan assisted Bronwen and Catrin onto another horse. The stables, where the rest of the company could find mounts, were just over the rise. It would take no more than a few minutes to reach it.

As for me, it was time for a speech.

I leapt onto the stone stile that allowed parishioners to enter the graveyard without going through the gate. My sword banged against my thigh. Somewhere along the way, William had girded me, but I had no memory of it. I raised a hand above my head.

Ieuan barked, “Quiet!”

Stragglers had been coming into the churchyard since the castle had fallen, people who’d panicked as they’d run from the gatehouse but who were now seeking friends and companions. Members of Parliament who’d come to Canterbury to consult about a tax bill mingled with ladies-in-waiting, servants, a few minor lords, and various friends and relations of the above. More than a hundred faces looked up at me, and I was reminded strongly of the speech I’d made yesterday in the churchyard of the cathedral. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Someone tried to hurt us,” I said. “He failed.”

A few people shifted their feet, their expressions showing puzzlement. They were thinking:
how did he fail? Isn’t Canterbury Castle destroyed?
So I got straight to the point.

“That castle behind us is the same pile of stones it was an hour ago.” I shrugged and gave a half smile. “It’s just been rearranged slightly.”

That got a laugh from those closest to where I was standing, which was what I was looking for.

“Castles can be rebuilt. Lives are irreplaceable. Thanks to a soldier named George whom I hadn’t met until today, you are standing before me. You may have lost your possessions. You may be scared and apprehensive about the future. But you are otherwise unharmed.”

In the back of the crowd, a few soldiers were jostling, and I recognized George being buffeted around the head and shoulders by his fellows. I gestured with one hand. “Come up here, George!”

George was half-dragged, half-shoved towards the front of the crowd, his face flushed very red. When he reached me, I clapped him on the shoulder. “How about a round of applause for George?”

The crowd cheered; George bowed and finally managed a big grin before I sent him back to his friends.

“We have some cleaning up to do.” I pointed to the castellan, Thomas Fairfax, to whom I hadn’t yet spoken. “Sir Thomas will see to the salvage.”

Thomas raised a hand and nodded, bowing towards me as he accepted the assignment.

“We will rise from the ashes,” I said. “We will not be defeated.”

General cheers now.

“For now, we have no home to return to. Those of you who are able-bodied, who can help Sir Thomas, will of course be asked to do so. For their safety, Queen Lili and Prince Arthur, along with many of our staff and guard, will not stay here. If any of you do not feel you can return to Canterbury just yet, you are welcome to go with them.” I pointed to where Carew waited with Lili, Bronwen, and the children. A small crowd of people were already gathered around them, along with Carew’s hand-picked guard of thirty men, about one-third archers and the rest men-at-arms.

“Where are they going, sire?” asked a woman near me.

“With Lord Carew,” I said. “For their safety and yours, I will not tell you their destination.”

That got a murmur of both consternation and approval.

“We have been attacked. I can name the man responsible. I do not know why he destroyed my castle, nor for whom he destroyed it.”

“Them Frenchies!” someone said from the rear of the crowd.

I raised a hand in acknowledgement of the accusation, interested that it was to the French that the man’s mind had gone. And he didn’t even know what I knew.

“I cannot say, and I won’t speculate. It does us no good to name enemies without proof. The one I can name is the man responsible for the destruction. He goes by the name of Lee. Many of you might have seen him or known him, for he has lived at my court since May.” A babble of incomprehensible responses rose up, and I made a shushing motion to dispel it. “If you know something about his activities, please speak to someone who can get that word to me.”

I jumped off the stile to find William de Bohun planted in front of me. “I’m staying with you.”

“You’re not,” I said. “I need you with Lili and Arthur.”

“They have many men to guard them. I can help you. I speak perfect French, and I am the son of Humphrey de Bohun.” William, with his bright blond hair, narrow chin, and patrician nose, looked far more noble than I did. By comparison, my features were those of a typical American mutt.

I studied him without answering.

“I am also your squire. I would stand by you even were you to enter the gates of hell.”

“I hope it won’t come to that.” I stepped to one side to go around him, but he put a hand to my chest to stop me. Touching the king was a brave move for a medieval man.

He knew it too, but he was too far gone to care. His fierce look could have melted iron. “Take me with you. Please, sire.”

I shook him off and strode past him. I was two paces beyond his position before I said, loud enough to make sure he heard, “Did you hear me say no?”

I smiled as I heard him hustling behind me to catch up.

Chapter Fourteen

T
he King of England could never go anywhere without a personal guard of fifty or more, and I always had a company of archers as well. The company existed to protect me, and I had to accept that. What I didn’t have to accept was for my whole court to stay at my side. The majority had to be sent back to London, so as to leave me with a workable number of personal companions in this time of crisis: Ieuan, Callum and Cassie, William, Rachel, Peter, and Darren—with Justin, as always, as captain of my guard.

“Where to first?” Justin said once Ieuan and I had seen Lili and Bronwen on their way and encouraged some of the nobles to put their heads together to arrange for their return to London.

“Back to the castle,” I said. “I need to see it up close.”

Justin didn’t argue with me. I figured he was happy I hadn’t ordered him to stay with Lili, as I could have. Leading Cadfan and with Sir Thomas pacing along at my side, I skirted the damaged curtain wall and headed towards the back gate. This was the same gate through which we’d left the castle before the explosion. It was the closest entrance into the castle bailey and didn’t require us to go through the town of Canterbury itself, which was protected by stone walls and had many gates of its own.

It was still full dark—perhaps darker even then before. We’d stayed at the chapel for an hour, but if it had been two in the morning when the castle blew up, we could have hours until dawn. The wind blew on the back of my neck, bringing with it the smell of imminent rain. I checked the sky. The cloud cover was absolute.

Before I crossed the drawbridge, I was met by the captain of my archers, a man named Afan. Unusual for a northern Welshman, he was an expert shot and the best I’d ever encountered. The expression of relief on his face at seeing me coming towards him would have been comical if the situation were less serious.

“My prince.” He bowed.

One of the affectations of my Welsh guard was that their allegiance to me derived from the fact that I was a prince of Wales and the heir to the Welsh throne, not because I was the King of England, a station about which they adamantly cared nothing. And they were right not to care. England and Wales were allies, but England had no authority over Wales. When—hopefully in the far distant future—my father died, and I ruled both countries, they would continue as separate nations. Such an arrangement had precedent: when William the Bastard conquered England, he ruled England as its king and Normandy as its Duke.

This double authority had also created the situation in Aquitaine to which the pope so objected. I could rule England as its king, like William had, but rule the Duchy of Aquitaine as its Duke, in fief to the King of France.

 Afan fell in beside me as I passed underneath the gatehouse, and we all came to a halt within a few paces of the entrance to the bailey. I stopped and stared, and then at a nudge in my back from Cassie, moved aside so the people behind me could press forward. The keep presented a shocking sight. What had once been a magnificent square tower was now little more than rubble. In addition, several of the smaller wooden buildings adjacent to the keep were on fire, flames shooting through their thatched roofs.