But it couldn’t be helped. Sean bellowed commands to get the army moving forward, hauling that dreadful carriage the last mile or so. As he fell in behind the carriage, keeping an eye on the axels, which seemed to be folding under the strain of the bad road, the fortified rear door opened, spilling out Monnington.
“De Lara!” he shouted over the rain that was beginning to pound. “His Grace wishes to speak with you!”
Sean wasn’t particularly thrilled that Monnington addressed him so informally. The man hadn’t earned the privilege. But he dutifully dismounted, handing the reins over to the nearest soldier before sloshing his way through the mud to the carriage. Sean was an enormous man, big and powerful and intimidating, far superior to the mortal men around him. Reaching the door, which was still swinging open as the carriage swayed, he heaved himself into the carriage.
The smell of urine and body odor hit him in the face and he fought off the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust. But the Lord of the Shadows never outwardly reacted to anything. He was, if nothing else, enigmatic. It was part of his mystery.
The carriage before him contained a bed near the front, right behind the drivers, and then two cushioned benches on either side. There was one advisor sitting on the cushioned bench, looking ill because of the sway of the carriage, and the king in the bed at the front.
Bracing himself against the wall so he wouldn’t fall, Sean made his way towards a man covered in furs against the cold weather. A short man but strong for his size, his auburn hair had mostly turned to gray and one droopy eyelid gave him a rather dense appearance, but there was nothing dense about him. He was clever, crafty, bold, and without boundaries of any sort, as he had proven many a time. King John of England had been raised with wolves and behaved like one. Every time Sean was summoned, he wondered what fresh new hell he was going to face.
John didn’t keep him waiting.
“How long until we stop for the night?” John asked.
“The village of Scole is not too much further, your grace,” Sean said. “About an hour.”
John nodded, hitting his head against the side of the cab when the wagon lurched. He grunted unhappily, hand to his head.
“I think I shall ride tomorrow,” he said. “The roads have not been kind to us.”
Sean felt some relief in that directive. “Nay, your grace, they have not been,” he said. “We can leave the carriage in Scole and move much swifter on horseback. We will collect it when we return to London.”
John nodded, but it was an absent gesture, as if his mind were elsewhere. “Monnington and I were just discussing the coming festivities at Norwich,” he said. “It has been at least two years since we were last there.”
“Two years last August, your grace.”
John lay back on his cushions. “Norwich Castle has always been a particular favorite of mine,” he said. “The only problem is that the House of de Winter has taken it over. It belongs to them more than it belongs to me.”
“That is because your ancestor who came to these shores with the Duke of Normandy was given stewardship of the castle, your grace,” Sean said. “The crown may hold Norwich, but it has never been out of de Winter hands. The only time it has even fallen was when the garrison was weakened by a disease that swept through it and the Earl of Norfolk was able to capture it when you and your brothers revolted against your father. Had the garrison been at full strength, it would have never been captured.”
John lifted his shoulders. “It is of no matter now,” he said. “It belongs to me. Or, to Old Daveigh de Winter. I could not take it back if I wanted to.”
“That is true, your grace.”
“At least I am paid well for the privilege of having de Winter as my steward.”
“Aye, your grace.”
John scratched his head thoughtfully. “Do you think all of the de Winter allies will be in attendance?”
Sean braced himself as the carriage bumped over a particularly bad rut. “I would think so, your grace. This is to be a very special feast in your honor.”
“Du Reims? Summerlin? De Vaston? Even de Lohr?”
“More than likely, your grace.”
“Those men are not my allies, you know.”
Sean nodded. “It puts them in an awkward position, your grace,” he said. “De Winter serves the crown but has always and historically been allied with those houses. With them attending this feast, it will be like attending a feast with a disagreeable old grandfather. You know you should go and tolerate him purely out of respect, but the awkwardness of the event is almost unbearable.”
“And I am the old grandfather?”
“To them, I would imagine so, your grace.”
John fell silent as he looked up at the ceiling, mulling over the situation. “Monnington told me something interesting,” he said. “Christopher de Lohr’s eldest daughter, Lady Christin, serves at Norwich.”
A warning bell went off in Sean’s head. Whenever John began to speak on women, there was usually trouble ahead, so he proceeded carefully with the conversation.
“I do not know, your grace,” he said. “I do not bother myself with details that do not concern me.”
It was a lie; he knew very well that it was true. Christin de Lohr did serve at Norwich Castle. But John was oblivious to the change in his tone.
“I have been thinking on something,” the king said. “Monnington gave me the idea. Christopher de Lohr was my brother, Richard’s, champion. In fact, he held the title of Defender of the Realm until my brother’s untimely death. After that, he allied with me for a time but that relationship turned sour. I believe I know how to bring the man back into the fold.”
“A brilliant idea, your grace?”
John rolled onto his side so he could face Sean. “I have a son in need of a wife.”
Sean’s eyebrows lifted. “Young Henry, your grace? But he is only six years of age.”
John shook his head. “Not him,” he said. “Robert.”
Sean understood. Robert FitzRoy was the illegitimate son of the king, born almost thirty years before from the daughter of John’s old tutor, Ranulf de Glanvil. Ranulf’s daughter, the fair Isabella, had died in the birth and John’s father had insisted the boy be raised as part of the royal household, so he’d had every advantage.
Another spoiled Plantagenet offspring.
When his father became king, Robert had been given land in Norfolk and a title, Lord Brimington. He even had a fine manor home in Bishop’s Lynn called Fairstead. The problem was that Robert was just as cruel, ruthless, and immoral as his father, or so Sean had heard. He didn’t know the man and didn’t want to, so for John to bring him up was curious. John usually didn’t give much thought to his first-born.
“I would have thought Robert to have married by now, your grace,” Sean said.
“Not yet. But I believe I have the perfect match.”
“Who?”
“Lady Christin de Lohr.”
Sean struggled not to react outwardly, realizing he should have seen that coming. John had brought up Christopher’s daughter and Robert in the same conversation, so it was only logical he’d meant to merge the two subjects.
But this merger was worse than anything Sean had imagined.
“I see,” he said, hoping his shock wasn’t evident. “And Monnington gave you this idea, your grace?”
John nodded. “He knows de Lohr’s family,” he said. “Monnington’s father was close to Christopher, so Evan knows the children. He mentioned Lady Christin and her younger sister, Lady Brielle. He says they are both beauties.”
Sean shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Given their mother’s comely looks, I would believe that, your grace,” he said. “But marrying Robert to de Lohr’s eldest daughter? Have you spoken to anyone else about this idea?”
“A few.”
“And what did they say, your grace?”
John shook his head. “It does not matter,” he said. “I want to know what you think.”
>
Sean eyed him. “The truth, your grace?”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Then I would not consider that plan if I were you, your grace,” Sean said. “Christopher de Lohr probably already has his daughter pledged. Or, at the very least, you will never gain his permission, so it would be futile.”
“Not if you whisk her from Norwich and take her to Bishop’s Lynn,” John said pointedly. “Robert can marry her before de Lohr can regain her and once consummated, not even the church will dissolve the marriage. With de Lohr’s daughter married to my son, we will be family.”
It was a horrific plan. Even Sean thought it was a horrific plan, and he’d heard many a horrific plan coming from John. But this one… it was absurd as well as outlandish. He struggled to remain neutral.
“May I further give my opinion, your grace?”
“Of course.”
Sean didn’t hold back. “Should you marry your son to de Lohr’s daughter without his permission, that will not create an alliance,” he said. “It will create civil war. De Lohr will march on you, and bring his allies with him, and he will wash over you like a wave upon the sand. You would destroy England with this plan, I fear.”
John eyed him. “Not if I threaten to harm his daughter should he act against me.”
“So you would use her as a hostage disguised as a bride, your grace?”
John had an intense look about him, as if everything in his entire future hinged on the vile scheme he was about to spew.
“If I bring de Lohr to his knees, then I remove not only him, but David de Lohr from any affront against me,” he said. “With the House of de Lohr subdued, do you realize what that means?”
“I realize what you think it means, your grace,” Sean said steadily. “But the reality could be very different. De Lohr is well-respected; even if he stands down because you threaten his daughter, his allies more than likely will not. That will put you in a precarious position.”
“Explain.”
“If you make a threat against Christin de Lohr and de Lohr’s allies move against you, then you will have to act on your threat,” he said. “If you do not, you will be viewed as weak. But if you do and you harm her, kill her even, then you remove the restraints on her father and he will destroy you. He may even ally with Philip. Imagine thousands of Frenchmen flooding England, allied with de Lohr and his supporters. You will not be able to stand against that.”
Sean painted a bleak picture that was very truthful. Nothing he said was fabricated or imagined; all of it was true. John was astute enough to know that. Still, he didn’t like to be denied his wants. That had historically been an issue with him. What John wanted, Sean would always, with rare exception, provide. The only way Sean would discuss an order with the king is if he believed it would hurt John beyond repair.
This was one of those times.
Unfortunately for Sean, John’s quest to restrain or otherwise control Christopher de Lohr was stronger than his fear of the consequences.
“De Lohr would not ally with Philip,” he finally said. “He would never support France on these shores, not even to destroy me. But I still want his daughter for my son because, as the son of the king, he commands the best bride in England. It will create an alliance that will benefit me. The man would not side against his kin and his daughter would be a duchess.”
Sean was genuinely trying not to argue with the man because it would only look suspicious, but he was greatly troubled by the king’s intentions. The last word in the man’s statement had him confused.
“I was not aware your son was a duke, your grace,” he said.
John shook his head. “He is not at the moment,” he said. “But when he marries Lady Christin, that will change. My wedding gift to them will be the Dukedom of Dersingham. Surely de Lohr cannot object to his daughter becoming a duchess.”
There was so much wrong with that statement that Sean truly didn’t know where to begin. All he knew was that they were headed for some terrible trouble and Christopher knew nothing about it.
Not yet, anyway.
Sean wasn’t certain if he was going to be at Norwich but he knew William Marshal was, and he further knew that William would not be happy to hear this in the least. Years ago, John had set his sights on Christopher’s wife, Dustin, and it seemed that eighteen years later, the man was going after the woman’s daughter. They were traveling down a road that would only take them to ruin because as fiercely as de Lohr had fought for his wife, he would fight even harder for his daughter.
Desperately, Sean tried to salvage the situation.
“Then mayhap you should propose the marriage to de Lohr, your grace,” he said. “Mayhap if you ask him to enter into negotiations for his daughter, or send a liaison to negotiate, it might be a much more civilized way to go about it rather than abducting a bride for your son. That will set the situation on end from the very beginning and given your history with the House of de Lohr, mayhap that is not the best way to go about it. De Lohr will kill you and more than likely kill me to get to you, so you will put us both in an impossible situation.”
John did nothing more than lay back on his bed again, arm over his forehead. “Possibly,” he said. “Faithful Sean; always trying to save me from myself. It must be a difficult task.”
Sean smiled weakly. “I serve at the pleasure, your grace. It is an honor.”
John snorted as if he did not believe him. “You are a gracious liar,” he said. “We will speak on this subject again when we arrive at Norwich and I get a look at Lady Christin. But for now, let us speak on this evening.”
“What is your wish, your grace?”
John was looking at him again. “Lord Edward Needham lives not far from here, I believe,” he said. “His seat is Elsdon House. Do you remember him?”
“I do, your grace. An older man with bags under his eyes. He has a look of illness about him.”
“That may be true, but he has a new wife,” John said. “He brought her to the masque at Westminster this past summer. Do you recall?”
“I believe so, your grace.”
John wagged a finger. “He tried to be clever and keep her out of my sight, but I saw her,” he said. “She is quite a beauty. Rumor has it that he’s in love with the girl, although he is old enough to be her father.”
“A woman with red hair? I do recall, your grace.”
John lay back again, closing his eyes as the carriage rocked and bumped. “Go to Elsdon and bring her to me,” he said. “If Needham stands in your way, do what you must to subdue the man. It will be a cold, wet night and I wish for a warm, soft body to fill my bed.”
It wasn’t an unusual command. Sean had carried out dozens of them over the years. He’d learned not to become outraged or upset by them, as barbaric as they were. He had to push his personal feelings aside.
“Aye, your grace.”
“Needham has a daughter, too. She’s young, but I hear she’s pretty enough. Bring her, too.”
“Anything else, your grace?”
“That will be enough.”
Sean quit the carriage without another word, mostly because he now had orders to head to Elsdon House and steal a man’s wife and daughter away for the king’s pleasure. It was part of the hell he’d condemned himself to when he’d accepted this mission from William Marshal those years ago, a mission that saw him embed close to the king to watch the man’s every move and report back to William Marshal. But it was with directives like these that made him question his loyalty to the Marshal, to England in general. He knew there would be a special place in hell for him and all of the things he’d done in the name of the king.
It was something he tried not to think about.
Lady Barbara Needham was young, pretty, and very much in love with her older husband, who begged Sean not to take her away when he showed up with about thirty of the king’s soldiers. The man wept and pleaded as Sean yanked his wife right out of their marital bed and handed her over to an
other of John’s bodyguards, a bear of a man named Gerard d’Athee. When Lord Needham lunged for Sean, trying to physically reclaim his weeping wife, Sean slugged Lord Needham so hard in the head that it knocked the man unconscious in an instant.
It was a good thing that Needham had been rendered immobile, deaf, blind and dumb to what was going on around him, because once d’Athee took Lady Needham down to his waiting horse, Sean went to find the man’s daughter, locating a thirteen-year-old girl who was cowering in her bedchamber at all of the screaming. Looking at that tiny, weeping girl, Sean knew she would not survive a night with the well-endowed and lusty king.
He simply couldn’t do it.
Telling her to be silent and locking the door behind him, he shut the panel and headed down to the servants’ quarters where he located a rather bold serving wench, who claimed she had seen eighteen years, and dragged her out into the night. Under penalty of death – her death – Sean told her that, for the night, she was to pretend that she was Needham’s daughter. When he caught up to the hysterical Lady Needham, he managed to get her alone for a few moments to tell her the same thing – unless she wanted to see her stepdaughter violated, she would confirm that the serving maid was Needham’s young daughter.
Poor Lady Needham was facing horrors beyond belief, but she understood.
She agreed.
Sean felt very sorry for her.
Before dawn the next day, Sean personally returned Lady Needham and the maid to Elsdon House. Fortunately for Lady Needham, the king seemed to be more interested in the maid, who had turned out to be virgin, so Lady Needham had been forced to mostly watch what had happened rather than actively participate. The maid hadn’t been particularly bothered by the event, thinking it a badge of honor to have been bedded by the king, but Lady Needham had been devastated by the entire event. When Sean brought the women home before sunrise, Lady Needham had actually thanked him for sparing her stepdaughter.
But that didn’t make Sean feel any less dirty or dishonorable.
On the ride back to the village, all he could think of was Christin de Lohr and what was going to happen once John reached Norwich. God help him, he was going to have to make sure Christin stayed out of sight. He had never come close to blowing his cover in the entire time he’d served John, but if Christin de Lohr’s life and future was on the line, Sean knew he’d have to make some hard decisions.
A Time of End Page 8
