Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Page 23

  A slight flicker of hope lit deep within Fulke as Henry continued. “As displeased as I am with you, it fails to surpass the rage I feel at Reynold’s rash act.”

  Setting his cup on a low wood table, he steepled his fingers as if a thought had occurred to him. After a moment, he slid his gaze to Fulke. “I believe I may have found a way to remove us both from this mire, Fulke.”

  Daring to hope, he waited for the king’s next words.

  “It would mean making a scapegoat of Reynold.”

  * * * *

  Early the next morning, Fulke waited for the final scene to play out. Hearing the echoing footfalls of the guards, he rose from his seat to stand against the wall.

  The door opened to admit a gloating, Reynold. His eyes widening at the cell’s comforts, he stepped before the king. Dropping into a bow, he smirked at Fulke as he rose. “You sent me for me, Sire?”

  “I did,” Henry replied coldly.

  Seeing the door swing open, it took every ounce of self-control Fulke had to keep from running to Reina when she hesitantly stepped through the door.

  At the sight of her dirty, disheveled appearance, rage eclipsed his relief. While affording him comforts, the wellbeing of his innocent Reina did not even occur to Henry. Knowing how much she feared the dark, he hid his fury behind a passive mask.

  Her gaze resting on him, Reina’s face lit with relief as she rushed to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she buried her head in his chest, weeping uncontrollably.

  Attempting to sooth her, he held her against him, stroking the back of her head. Catching Henry’s glower, he eased away causing her to clutch his sleeve. “Fulke, I am afraid for you.”

  “Do you remember what I said about having faith in me?” he mouthed.

  She nodded, tears slipping from her eyes.

  “Hold to that now, Reina, I must do this.”

  Biting her lip, she clung to him.

  Reynold eyed them with dawning suspicion as Henry stood keeping his back to the trio.

  Showing a glimpse of the fearsome warrior he once was, he snatched a dagger from its sheath. Rushing forward, he drove the point against Reynold’s throat. “Give me a reason not to slit your throat, churl.”

  Reina gasped as Reynold stuttered incoherently at the latest turn of events.

  Stumbling over his words, he managed a weak, “Sire, what have I done to deserve this?”

  Henry pressed the blade to the point of drawing blood. “I am Henry Beauclerc. Educated to be a bishop and son of the mighty Conqueror of England. Do you believe I was unaware of her ladyship’s ability?”

  Petrified, Reynold remained silent. If he said yes, he would insult the king. If he said no, it would be admitting that he knowingly exposed Reina’s secret. Either way, he was likely to be strung-up before day’s end. Refusing to answer altogether, he chose his own way, whimpering incoherently.

  Disgusted, Henry lowered the dagger, kicking Reynold to the dirt beneath his feet.

  Scrambling up to kneel in supplication, Reynold began to plead. “I beg of you, give me a chance to make amends, Sire.”

  Shrewdly eyeing him, the ghost of a smile crossed Henry’s face. “What use could you be to me, Reynold?”

  He caught sight of Reina’s ashen face, addressing Fulke. “Pray Fulke, your lady looks terrified, have her take a seat before she collapses. I have no intention of spilling the bastard’s blood.” He glanced down at Reynold. “Yet.”

  Fulke guided Reina to a seat as she craned her neck to keep her frightened gaze focused on the king. Gently forcing her to sit, Fulke stood at her side as she clung to his hand.

  Glaring down at Reynold, Henry sneered, “You are unfit for the nobility. Rise, you worthless churl.”

  Reynold stood on quivering limbs, unable to meet Henry’s fierce gaze. “I will do anything Sire,” he pleaded.

  “Your life hinges on the following three conditions, Reynold. Fail even one and I shall have your head on a pike as warning to all who would speak false witness against another in my court.”

  “I will do anything,” he wailed.

  Placing the dagger under Reynold’s chin, Henry mocked, “My conditions suit your noble-born self?”

  “Aye Sire,” he whispered.

  “First and foremost, you, along with every baron you have convinced otherwise, will swear allegiance to Matilda.”

  He wiped the blood from the dagger on Reynold’s tunic. “Know this,” he leaned close enough to whisper, “If I lose the majority by even one vote, it shall mean your head.”

  “Aye, my king,” he squeaked.

  “Secondly, you shall go forth to convince every last noble present in that hall, starting with Geoffrey of Anjou and ending with King David, that you were mistaken about her ladyship.”

  He pressed the dagger against Reynold’s bleeding neck. “Do you understand?” he asked softly.

  “Aye, my king,” he gasped.”

  “Thirdly, you shall beg her ladyship’s forgiveness. She has been the subject of malicious slander which you have proliferated.”

  “Sire, grant me the chance,” he pleaded.

  “If I were you Reynold, I would make the apology a good one.” Lowering the dagger, Henry stepped back waiting.

  Unaware of Henry’s words, Reina watched in horror as Reynold pleaded with the king, jumping back in her seat when he suddenly spun around to drop to his knees before her. Staring at the top of his bent head, tears began to leak from her eyes.

  Seeing Reina on the verge of panic, Fulke glared with contempt at the man kneeling before her. It was only for her sake that he took pity on him. “Her ladyship needs to see your lips, Reynold.”

  Reynold began mumbling again as he stared up at Reina. Grabbing the hem of her kirtle, he began to wring his hands in the folds, begging her forgiveness.

  Fulke glared at the man brought down by his own vindictiveness. “Remove your hands from my wife or I shall remove them for you.”

  Reynold dropped the hem to raise his hands in supplication, begging Reina’s forgiveness for assaulting her.

  Henry lunged forward at these words. “What is this about an assault whilst the lady was under my protection?”

  Fulke watched dispassionately as Reynold began to sob incoherently in fear. He found Reina’s frightened gaze resting on him and knew what she would want. “My lady would not have me make issue of the matter, Sire.”

  Henry stepped back, which began another round of disjointed begging from Reynold.

  Reina glanced up at Fulke with frightened eyes. “I do not understand.”

  Fulke gently caressed her cheek. “Reynold is asking for you to forgive him, my love. If you choose to deny him, his life will be forfeit.”

  Reina released her numbing grip on Fulke’s hand to clasp Reynold’s shoulders.

  His mouth open, he gazed fearfully up at her.

  She tilted her head for Fulke to see her lips. “Tell him I forgive him, my lord.”

  “My gracious lady grants you forgiveness, Reynold.”

  Reina sank back in fear as Henry stepped forward.

  Henry skimmed her face as if surprised by her reaction, before frowning down on Reynold. “It appears you have passed your first obstacle, Reynold.” He flicked his hand. “Be gone, harder tasks await you.”

  Avoiding Reina’s sympathetic gaze, Reynold pulled the collar of his bliaut up to hide his wounded neck before bowing.

  “Remember this day, Reynold,” the king called after him. “You owe your worthless life,” he paused, “to a woman.”

  Lowering his gaze, Reynold replied in a strained voice, “Aye, Sire.”

  Henry watched him leave, before he shook his head in disgust. “These weak and worthless noble-born men I am forced to cosset, yet I am frowned upon for selecting men worthy of title.”

  He glanced down at Reina. “Your heart is too kind, your ladyship. Yet I must confess, in this instance I was counting on it.” He bent his head to her level. “Once again, you depart wi
th my thanks. The guards will escort you to your chamber where comforts await.”

  Seeing Fulke reach down to assist her from the chair, Reina gripped the armrests. Adamantly shaking her head.

  Lightly gripping her elbows, Fulke leaned close to mouth. “Trust me, my love.”

  Releasing her grip, Reina reluctantly stood, clinging to his waist as he walked her to the door.

  She turned back to him in the passageway. “I love you, Fulke.”

  Before closing the door, he gently ran his hands down her face. “You are my life.”

  Forcing himself to close the door, he rejoined the king.

  Henry waved a hand at the table. “Refresh yourself, Fulke.”

  Selecting a cup of the king’s favored wine, Fulke took a seat beside him. “Do you think it possible Reynold will sway the opposing barons, Sire?”

  Henry shifted his gaze to him. “If he desires to live, he will.”

  “What do you intend to do now, Sire?”

  Intentionally misconstruing Fulke’s words, Henry replied, “After the assembly, I shall banish him from court. After a time, when he forgets what he has cost me, I shall remind him by stripping away his title and lands.”

  Fulke came close to feeling pity for Reynold. His future path would not be an easy one.

  He stared into his cup, waiting for the king to pronounce his sentence. After a bit, Henry broke the tense silence. “Do you know the only person I ever fully trusted was my mother?”

  “I did not know that,” Fulke responded softly.

  “Aye,” Henry huffed. “If she did not favor me above my brothers, I would have even doubted her.”

  Fulke thought of his men, risking their lives on his behalf. “It must be difficult never knowing whom to trust.”

  “The life of a monarch is never an easy one.” Henry sighed. “I am the unspoken murderer of my brother, William. Present jailer of my brother Robert, and there are times even I have doubts of how Matilda will fare as queen. If she were not such an ill-tempered bitch, I would have an easier time of it. I married her at twelve to a man twenty years her senior believing she would provide me with an abundance of male spares.” He scoffed, “Yet here I sit, mourning a son and forced to do battle with my barons on behalf of a woman.”

  Hearing the contempt in Henry’s voice, Fulke thought of the man he wanted to be for his own child. Son or daughter, if given the opportunity he would raise them to believe in honor above all else. Whether at the behest of a King, Queen or themselves, there was no other way he could live.

  Resolved, he faced Henry. “I fear that Stephen will oppose Matilda’s ascension, Sire.”

  “Aye, you tell me old information, Fulke. Stephen is my sister’s son. She entrusted me with his care from the time he was a lad. I have grown too fond of him to make an issue of it. I remain steadfast in my present course. I shall leave it to Geoffrey to fight for Matilda’s claim in the future. From what your lady has discovered, he is tenacious enough to take on Stephen upon my death.”

  Fearing an inevitable war, Fulke said, “I pray you live a long life, Sire.”

  Henry acknowledged with a dip of his head. “Archbishop Corbeil is very fond of you, Fulke. He believes if I were to command your death, it shall be a grave sin upon my soul.”

  Fulke bowed his head in relief. “Thank you, Sire.”

  “Do not thank me,” he scoffed, “my decree is banishment. I am left with no other choice.”

  “I willingly accept it, Sire.”

  “Your vote is required at the assembly, after which time, you are to remove yourself to Castell Maen. Albin is likewise, banished.” He skewered Fulke with his gaze. “Your men’s actions in the hall did not escape my notice. Had they made a move to defend you, their heads would even now be resting on pikes. As it stands,” he relented, “England will have need of her knights. In lieu of punishment, they are to remain in my service under your guidance.”

  Fulke clasped his hands, anxious to hear Reina’s fate.

  “As to your lady, I cannot see her being of any further use to the crown. Reynold will do his part to waylay suspicion, yet there will be skeptics. I most regrettably find myself forced to concede the advantage I would have had over Louis. Henceforth, I release her to your safe keeping.”

  Fulke clenched his eyes closed for a moment in relief. Unable to speak, he struggled to compose himself.

  Henry leaned forward to grab his shoulder. “She is to remain by your side for the remainder of the assemblage. I cannot have her sudden absence giving credence to Reynold’s accusations.”

  In more control of his emotions, he nodded. “Of course, Sire.”

  Henry leaned back in his seat. “Even with your faults, you are a good man, Fulke. I would venture to say, better than most.”

  Standing, he bowed. “I humbly thank you, Sire.”

  Henry raised a hand in acknowledgement. “The court ladies will not be the only ones to miss you. Go in peace, my friend.”

  TWENTY

  Reina numbly followed behind the two men-at-arms as they escorted her back to her chamber. Confused and upset, she found it difficult to breath as she imagined what punishment the king planned for Fulke.

  She spotted the men standing outside her chamber as she turned the corner leading to the guest chambers. They straightened at her appearance as she squeezed between the guards to rush forward.

  Flinging her arms around Warin, she began sobbing.

  Albin opened the door to her chamber. “Bring her inside, lad.”

  The men exchanged worried glances as Warin guided Reina to a seat before the fire. Easing her down, he crossed to the sideboard to pour her a glass of honeyed mead.

  Albin dragged a chair around to face her. Taking a seat, he asked, “Can you tell us what happened, my lady?”

  Shaking her head, Reina could not repeat the horrifying scene she witnessed.

  Albin’s face fell as he asked, “Has Fulke been harmed?”

  Tears streamed from her eyes as she shook her head, unable to answer.

  “My lady,” he said calmly, “We must know what happened.”

  Clasping her hands to still their trembling, she closed her eyes to calm herself.

  Her eyes flew open when Reynold’s bloodied throat rose up before her, the words streaming out of her. “The king is mad, he has Fulke alone at his mercy. I have to be with him, I need to be with him, Albin,” she burst into sobs.

  Staring at her wide-eyed, Albin called, “Ah, a little assist lads.”

  Talan rushed over to kneel before her. “What do you wish to say, my lady?”

  With wild eyes, she clung to the front of Talan’s tunic. “You do not understand, the king is mad. He had a dagger to Baron Reynold’s throat, a dagger, Talan.”

  Talan spoke low as he repeated her words.

  “My lady, first of all,” Albin said, “If you are going to call the king mad, I am beyond relieved he cannot hear you. Secondly, I have no doubt Fulke would be grateful to have you stand as his second, however, knowing him as I do, I am convinced he would have you out of harm’s way.”

  Seeing her eyes widen, he hastened to add, “Not that he is in harm’s way, my lady. I am sure the king was only trying to intimidate Reynold.”

  Reina looked skeptical as the three knights beside her rolled their eyes in disbelief. Gesturing to them as proof, Albin scowled at the trio.

  Her throat parched, she accepted the cup Warin held out to her. Draining half of it, she returned her gaze to Albin.

  “Can you tell us what happened after you left the hall, my lady?”

  Taking a deep breath, she told them everything that happened after she was taken from the hall.

  Ashamed, she refrained from telling them what happened after the guards shut her in a lightless cell. Terrified of being alone in the dark, she felt for the damp walls with outstretched, trembling hands. Sinking down on the filthy floor of the cell, the stench of human waste nearly overwhelmed her. She spent the long night cowering in
fear, praying Fulke would come for her.

  She told them after some time, the guards came for her, escorting her to a cell further down the passage. Giving them a detailed account, she told them everything that happened with the king and Baron Reynold, ending with the escort back to her own chamber.

  After she finished, Albin cupped her trembling hand. “I am sorry for what you have had to endure, my lady. It was not meant to happen that way.”

  Reina looked beyond Albin to Talan. “I do not understand.”

  Albin squeezed her hand, before explaining what they planned to occur in the hall. With her secret exposed before the court, she would no longer be valuable to the king. Avoiding the intimate details of Gervase’s involvement, Reina figured them out for herself.

  Never believing the king would have her seized, Albin told her of Fulke’s order to keep the plan from her to ensure her safety.

  Tears slipped from her eyes as she recalled what Fulke said before the feast. Knowing she should be angry with him for risking himself, all she could think was that her husband loved her so much, he risked his life to keep a promise to her.

  “The fault is all mine, my lady.” Albin admitted. “It was I who came up with the failed plan.”

  Glancing at the group of loyal men around her, she forced a smile, knowing every one of them took enormous risk on her behalf. She touched Albin’s hand. “And for that, I thank you, Albin.”

  “You are welcome, my lady. Though I wish I felt deserving of your praise.” Clearing his throat, he stood. “We shall withdraw now so that you may refresh yourself.”

  Her eyes widened in fear at the thought of being left alone and she turned to Warin. “Please do not leave me.”

  “She wishes for us to stay, Albin.”

  Albin squatted before her. “Have no fear, we have no intention of leaving you. We shall wait in the passage until you come for us.”

  Reina stood as the men filed out. Stripping off her soiled garments, she flung them in a corner. Using the earthenware jug of water on the sideboard, she hastily scrubbed the stench of the dungeon from her skin before donning a fresh chemise and kirtle.