Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Val simply stared at him as if he had no real answer. His exhausted face gave forth a rainbow of emotions as the implications of the missive sank deep. While Calum had been given time to think about every angle, Val hadn’t. Now, Calum had slapped him across the face with the reality of the situation and he turned away, missive in hand, struggling to collect his thoughts.

  “I am going to obey his missive,” he said after a moment. “That is the only thing I can do. But for something like this, Henry should have summoned me to Winchester at the very least. He should have told me to my face that this was to be my duty. To send a missive is cowardly at best. In fact, mayhap I should ride to Winchester to discuss it.”

  Calum shook his head. “But he has already sent my brother and the other knights on ahead,” he said. “Hugh told me that you should meet them at the West Gate Inn. Do you know it?”

  “I do.”

  “Then if you seek Henry to discuss the contents of the missive, it will delay you in going to Canterbury and I would wager to say that you will anger Henry. He wants this done quickly; otherwise, why would he have had my brother bring you this missive? To go back to Winchester would cost time and my brother is already heading for Canterbury.”

  Val understood that. Evidently, this was something Henry wanted done very fast so it could be over and done with before church supporters were rallied to protect Canterbury. But Val knew of the troubles Henry had with Thomas Becket; hardly a fighting man in England hadn’t heard of it, troubles that went back for years. He knew about the excommunication of York and Salisbury, something that a knight traveling to Winchester from London last month had told him when he’d stayed a night at Selborne. That same knight was traveling to Winchester to inform the king.

  It never occurred to him that the message the knight bore would someday involve him.

  But it did. The excommunication of those who had crowned Young Henry had evidently been the last nail in the coffin as far as Henry was concerned. Was he surprised by the directive? Nay, he was not. But he was deeply concerned about it. Calum had been correct; Henry was putting him in a very bad position.

  “Henry knows he has placed me in the jaws of the lion,” he muttered. “Did you see the portion of the message that threatened me? If I do not do my duty, then Henry will consider it a refusal of his command. He had to do that because he knew I would not swallow this command easily.”

  Calum watched the man carefully, looking for any signs of rebellion. But Val was very good at covering his emotions. More than that, it would be unheard of for him to refuse an order from the man who had done so much for him. He was loyal to Henry until the end.

  Even his.

  “I am sorry, Val,” he said quietly. “This is not something you should be mixed up in.”

  Val was oddly calm about the situation, mostly because it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. His exhaustion had prevented that, as had the events with Vesper. Even now, when he should be thinking about the king’s directive, it was competing in his mind with thoughts of the lady who was now halfway to Eynsford.

  But he had to shake himself of thoughts of her. He needed all of his focus because he had a very serious duty to undertake. He looked at the missive again, still in his hand, reading those words yet again.

  “I am the law in Hampshire,” he said. “Henry made me so. I cannot pick and choose those laws and royal directives I decide to enforce. I suppose I am the logical choice when it comes to arresting Canterbury although I do not relish it. This will be trouble for me, if I refuse or if I comply. Either way, I am doomed.”

  Calum knew that. He was feeling a great deal of pity for Val. “Kenan and Mayne do not know of this directive,” he said. “It is up to you if you wish to tell them. Do you have any thought as to who will go with you to accomplish this task?”

  Val looked at him as if surprised by the question. “No one will,” he said. “I will go alone. This directive is for me and me alone. I will not allow the rest of you to be sucked up into it.”

  Calum was concerned. “But you must take some men with you,” he said. “What if Canterbury resists? How will you overcome him?”

  Val sighed heavily. “Before I was a justice, I was a knight and a very good one,” he said. “I spent years on the battlefields of France, as you well know. Now, do you truly believe a cleric like Canterbury can fight me off?”

  Calum quickly shook his head. “I did not mean that,” he said. “I know you can handle Canterbury, but he has men that surround him. What will you do about them?”

  Val turned for the table, reaching out to set the missive atop it. “You said your brother and the others have gone on ahead of me,” he said. “I think between the five of us, we can subdue any guards that Canterbury might have.”

  Calum didn’t like that at all. “Please, Val,” he begged softly. “Take one of your knights and a hand-picked contingent with you. For your own safety, please. I know you do not want to get any of us mixed up in this, but we serve you. We are already mixed up in it. Please do not go it alone, I implore you.”

  Val was too weary to fight off his words. He made sense and he knew Calum would pester him until he agreed. Worse still, he might even tell Margaretha and then she would enter the fray. Nay, that’s not what he wanted. Therefore, he gave in to Calum’s soft pleas simply to shut the man up.

  “You are an old woman, Calum,” he said sternly. Then, his face cracked into a smile. “But I understand your concern and I will respect it. If you were hoping to go with me, I will not permit it. You have a wife and a child to think of, so you remain here. But I will allow you to select the knight and contingent who will attend me. Tell them not why; I will do that. We will leave before dawn, so have them meet me here in the solar before dawn breaks. I will explain the situation to them. Even if Henry did not tell me to my face what his wishes were, I will show my men more respect than that. They will know what they will soon be facing.”

  Calum was disappointed that he would not be going with Val but he understood. He did have a wife and child to think of and this mission would have far-reaching implications to those who participated. He didn’t want to jeopardize his family, or worse, leave them completely. He very much wanted to see his son born.

  “Very well,” he said reluctantly. “What about your mother? Will you tell her?”

  Val nodded. “I must,” he said. “She will have to know why she will no longer be welcome in church.”

  It was the truth. The House of de Nerra had always stood for piety and devotion to the church but, after this, they would become an enemy of the godly. There wasn’t much more to say after that and Calum patted Val on the shoulder comfortingly before heading to the solar door. He suspected the man needed time to his thoughts. But he paused before leaving entirely, turning to Val one last time.

  “I did not ask you how your journey was with Lady Vesper and her father yesterday,” he said. “Are you officially courting the woman now? Celesse likes her a great deal, by the way. She is looking forward to another young woman here at Selborne.”

  Val looked at him, sharply. He had only just succeeded from chasing thoughts of the woman from his mind. Now, they were back again, full-bore. They mingled with thoughts of Henry, beating him down. Leaning against the table, he hung his head in a defeated gesture.

  “That is another matter altogether,” he said. “You are not going to believe what happened.”

  Calum was intrigued. He came back into the chamber. “Is that so?” he said. “Do tell.”

  Val had been right; so great his surprise, Calum hardly believed him and wondered, secretly, how much more the man could take. Val de Nerra was strong but he wasn’t invincible.

  That strength was about to be put to the test.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was a winter’s dawn, complete with ice on the ground and a pewter-colored sky. The weather this winter had been so mild that only now, in the midst of the Christmas season, was it starting to truly feel like winter.

/>   Val was in his solar in the hours before dawn, waiting for the men Calum had selected to join him. He knew they would be here soon, eager to know their directive and Val had been wracking his brain for the past two hours on how to ease them into the seriousness of the orders. He’d hoped to soften the blow. But he’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t; any way they were to look at Henry’s missive, the situation was plain – Val had been asked to intercede in something that, so far, only the Pope had made an attempt to intercede in. It was a feud that had been going on for years. And now, Henry was hiding behind the law in this case or, more specifically, behind Val.

  A man who could take the fall for him.

  It was a realization that had cost Val sleep that night. He’d been horribly exhausted from no sleep the night before in Bishop’s Waltham and had managed just a few hours before thoughts of Henry and Canterbury woke him. He hadn’t been able to sleep with those two on his mind, so he’d arisen, shaved, and dressed, preparing to meet his men before heading out to Canterbury.

  In the weak light of the tallow tapers, Val was seated at the table, once again going over the missive sent from Henry. He’d already read it fifty times; he didn’t know why he needed to read it again. When he’d read it the first few times yesterday, he’d been in a bit of a fog, and this morning he was only starting to think clearly about it. If Val was one thing, it was decisive – and he always had a plan. He’d come up with a plan for the arrest, one which relied heavily on logic. He could only hope he could stick to that plan before Canterbury’s guards rushed him.

  As he was mulling over what was to come, a figure appeared in the solar door and he looked up to see the silhouette of someone carrying a tray. He assumed it was a servant until it came into the light and he saw his mother enter, carrying a tray with food and drink upon it. Puzzled, as his mother hadn’t served him food and drink since he was a child, he stood up and took the tray from her as she approached his table.

  “I am flattered,” he said, setting the tray down and looking at the contents – bread, porridge, warmed wine. “Since you have not brought me food in some time, I feel a little as if you are bringing me a last meal.”

  He meant it in jest but Margaretha saw no humor in it. Wrapped tightly in soft blue wool, her features were pale and strained in this early morning hour. She’d been told of Henry’s missive the night before and had been unable to sleep because of it. Her beautiful, strong son was to be used as a scapegoat by a stubborn and vile king… those horrible thoughts had been rolling around in her mind for hours. It hurt her heart to know that her proud boy would soon be facing an unwinnable situation. Therefore, she had to see him before he left.

  God only knew if he would return.

  “It may be poisoned for all you know,” she said seriously, as she was coming to appreciate his attempt to lighten the dark mood. “I would be careful eating it if I were you.”

  Val gave her a half-grin. “That is what I like about you, Mother,” he said. “You show no mercy. You would poison me rather than let me carry out Henry’s order.”

  Any levity Margaretha might have been feeling was dashed. “It might be a blessing,” she murmured, pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Although we did not discuss this much when you told me, I find that now I must. I have been thinking about this all night, Val. You know that you are going to be punished for this. You are being ordered to involve yourself in a family squabble. When it is all over, Henry and Thomas shall forgive each other and you shall be imprisoned.”

  “I am doing what I have been ordered to do.”

  “But you cannot win!”

  Val didn’t want to argue with her, not now. But he’d had the very same thoughts so it was difficult for him to hold out against her. “Then what do you suggest?” he hissed. “That I refuse? I will find myself imprisoned faster if I do that. You saw the missive for yourself; he threatened me if I refused the order. Or shall I side with Canterbury on this? We would lose everything if I did.”

  Margaretha watched him as he moved about the table, his movements full of the frustration he was feeling. “Your father still has family in Le Ruau,” she said quietly. “Go, Val. Go to France and remain there until this situation goes away.”

  Val looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Leave?” he repeated. He could see the concern on her face and he labored to ease her. “Mother, I know you are frightened but running away is not the answer. I would be a coward if I did and I am not a coward. You named me Valor for a reason, did you not? I would not be living up to my name if I ran from this.”

  Margaretha was starting to feel some desperation, unusual for the usually cool woman. “Sometimes caution is the better part of valor,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I have one son,” she said. “I do not wish to see him caught up in Henry’s personal battles. There are some battles that you cannot win and this is one of them.”

  He snorted. “You are fine when I am in the king’s favor but the moment he asks something of me that requires bravery, you want me to fold like a weakling. I am sorry, Mother, but you did not raise a fool. I will fulfill my duties and I will face whatever the consequences are. I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “And Lady Vesper?” Margaretha went for the jugular. “What about her? You said you wanted to court her, Val. How are you to do that if you are in prison?”

  Val was off-balance with her attack now. He hadn’t expected her to bring Vesper into the mix. In fact, he’d been doing admirably well – he hadn’t thought of Vesper in over two hours. Now, Margaretha was throwing the woman in his face, trying to weaken him. They were good tactics from a woman who was used to winning.

  But not this time.

  “I do not know,” he said honestly. “I suppose I shall seek a resolution to that situation when the time comes. Mother, nothing you can say will change my mind. So, before you and I start arguing and say hurtful things, I suggest you stop trying to talk me out of this. I am sorry you do not understand my sense of duty.”

  Margaretha fell silent for a moment, but only for a moment. Her son’s words had wounded her. “I know your sense of duty all too well,” she said quietly. “Your father had the same sense of duty. Do you recall how I met your father?”

  “I do. He served your father.”

  Margaretha nodded. “Indeed, he did. Gavin de Nerra was an astonishing sight, Val. Tall and dark, he was beauty and power personified. He served Matilda’s husband, Geoffrey, as the Count of Anjou because he was a cousin to Geoffrey. The House of de Nerra is kin to the Counts of Anjou. Your father was gifted to my father in a treaty with the Saxon house of Byington to secure an alliance and that is how he came to serve here at Selborne. You know that you are related to the king, Val. He is your father’s cousin and yours as well.”

  Val knew that. “How do you think I have been in favor all of these years?” he asked. “Of course, my sword has played a larger role in that but I received opportunities many did not because of my relationship to the king. I am well aware of it, Mother. You are telling me nothing I do not already know.”

  Margaretha took a step towards him, her eyes riveted to him. “So Henry believes that because you are his family, that he can send you out to attack his enemy in Canterbury?” She was becoming emotional, which was very rare for her. “I lost your father to Henry. Gavin went to France to help Henry protect some of his properties against the French king and he was killed for it. You were there, Val; you held your father as he died upon the field of battle.”

  Val was becoming less and less patient with his mother. He didn’t want to relive that horrible day when his father, in the midst of trying to reclaim a very minor castle in France, was hit in the neck with an arrow. Val watched his father die and it was something he didn’t like to be reminded about.

  “Aye, I was there,” he said.

  “I will not lose my son to Henry as well!”

  Val had to
stop her before she became completely irrational about the situation. “Your husband was a knight and so is your son. You cannot dictate our duties, Mother. I am fulfilling an order from the king just as my father was. And you know that Papa would agree with me.”

  Margaretha stared at him a moment before backing down, perhaps realizing that she’d reached a dead end. Or perhaps she realized that what her son said was true. Whatever the case, she was shaken and frightened by Henry’s orders. She didn’t want to lose her son but she was positive that would happen. It was tearing her up inside.

  “So I am to lose my other love,” she murmured, turning away. “You and your father have the same sense of honor, the same sense of suicide. You do not think of yourselves first.”

  Val could hear the tears in her voice and was coming to feel badly for her. He knew that he was all she had left.

  “Mother,” he said quietly. “What is our family motto?”

  Margaretha closed her eyes, tears stinging. “Ante mortem animo.”

  Val nodded. “Courage before Death,” he whispered. “I can promise you that I will show much courage before death can catch up to me. It may be tomorrow or it may be in thirty years. Who is to say? But I want you to know something… I have a great deal to live for. There is a woman at Eynsford that I very much wish to marry and I am going to do everything in my power to ensure that I live long enough to do that. I do not like these orders, either, but they are from the king and I have no choice. But mark my words… I shall return. I will do my duty and I shall return.”

  Margaretha believed that he believed he would. Whether or not he did… only God knew. Before she could reply, men began entering the solar and she knew her time with her son was ended. She had said what she wished to say and now it was in God’s hands. Val’s sense of duty was stronger than most, no matter how terrible the orders.