The Falcon and the Flower

by Virginia Henley

Jasmine said quietly, “You did it to yourself, but if your mind is bent on blaming me, I will remove the curse from you. Bathe it in the waters of the River Shannon at midnight and the stiffness will leave it forever.” She knew the affliction was in the girl’s mind; any ritual would unfreeze it.

  Jasmine moved away from her with regal dignity, although in reality she went blindly, searching out a place where she could be alone. Tam followed her up to a bedchamber and watched helplessly as she crumpled down in one of the window embrasures, leaning her head against the stones, so cold and weary that she could not think. Her teeth chattered and beneath her drooped eyelids the shadows of the room swayed like water.

  “My lady, I swear to you I did not know she was here,” Tam said desperately. “Why did you heal her hand?” he asked in disbelief.

  She stared at him for a moment as if she had not heard him, but then she answered. “Because it is not Morganna who I hate!” Suddenly her composure shattered into a million pieces as her heart broke. Tam held her closely for an hour until her sobbing ceased and she had cried herself dry. Then he helped her to bed, covered her with the warm furs, and crept from the chamber.

  Chapter 40

  When Jasmine rode into Galway Castle the next day, William’s ship rode in the harbor. She learned that as soon as he arrived yesterday a messenger had been dispatched to Falcon, and he was expected any hour now. Jasmine cringed at the thought of seeing him so soon. She hadn’t the vaguest idea what she would say—she knew only that she hated him with an intensity that threatened to consume her. Thank God Estelle was back, she would be able to advise her.

  In the kitchens she saw Murphy deeply quaffing a large horn of ale. “Ah, it’s like an angel crying on my tongue,” he said with satisfaction.

  “I’m glad you are back safely. Was William successful? How is his health? Where is Estelle?”

  “So many questions, my little darlin’. Estelle had to stay behind with the king. She gave me this letter for you.”

  An icy finger seemed to touch Jasmine, “But she was treating William’s health. Did the king force her?” she demanded.

  Murphy set down the horn. “Darlin’, there’s little she can do for William an’ he’s the first to accept it. John didn’t force her outright; she insists her destiny lies with his, an’ there’s no arguin’ with the woman.” He shrugged. Then he smiled. “There now, ye’ve had the bad news, the rest is all wonderful. William was most successful in securing the de Burgh holdings, but I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ to tell you an’ Falcon himself.”

  She tucked the letter into her belt and went up to the children. They both had the same response. After a quick kiss they both wanted Daddy and couldn’t seem to understand why she had dared to come back without him.

  She sat down in a large wooden chair and opened Estelle’s letter.

  My dearest Jasmine,

  I have only a moment to pen you a brief warning. The king has granted the de Burghs all they ask and more. In return William has pledged his sons and Falcon must do the same. I know you too well. I fear that, like Mathilda de Braose, you will refuse him. If you refuse, you endanger yourself and Falcon. Not all his pride, nor courage, nor skill with a sword would protect you from the wrath of the King. The children will be perfectly safe with Hugh de Burgh and I shall remain here to guarantee their welfare. Think long and hard before you do something foolish.

  Your loving grandmother,

  Estelle.

  Jasmine rested her head on the back of the chair and Mick crawled up into her lap. She stroked the black curls so infinitely precious to her. She thought of the child Falcon had made with Morganna while she thought his heart had beat only for her. The ache in her heart was so heavy she could scarcely endure it. No wonder she had had a premonition of impending doom. First the woman, now her children.

  She glanced down at Rickard. He had pulled off her shoe and was wiggling her toes, saying “This little piggy went to market.”

  A woman’s lot in this world was pain and tears, aching fear and sacrifice. She hugged Mick fiercely and kissed his temple. It would not be her sons who were sacrificed, she vowed. Mick squirmed in her tight embrace until she put him down. She watched him go, taking his brother with him. They ignored the toy animals and drums, much preferring the small wooden swords their father had made them. They were so like Falcon it took her breath away. She whispered, “I’ll not hand over my sons as if the king deserves anything he sets his dirty mind to have!”

  Jasmine bathed and changed her clothes. She knew de Burgh would be arriving at any moment. She must look her best, for it always gave her confidence. In her wardrobe she pushed aside the whites and pinks, because de Burgh liked her best when she was soft and feminine. To face him now she’d choose a bolder color. Her hand hesitated over the black. Perhaps she should wear mourning for the love that he had killed. In the end she chose defiant red velvet and painted her mouth as boldly scarlet as her gown.

  She waited until the men arrived from Portumna and Falcon had been closeted with William for an hour before she interrupted them. By now she knew he would have poured William more than one strong Irish whisky. She could not bear to look at Falcon, but greeted William warmly with a welcoming kiss. “Congratulations, my lord, on your overwhelming success. By all accounts Meiler fitz Henry has been vanquished.” She saw his ravaged state of health. “Oh, William, London has taken its toll of you.”

  He nodded. “It rained every day. The dampness of England is insidious, I’m afraid.”

  Falcon watched his wife in silence. She had neither spoken to him nor looked at him. Her attitude screamed aloud that something was very wrong between them.

  William held out a sealed parchment. “The king entrusted me with a letter for you, Jasmine.”

  Falcon went black as iron. He snatched up the letter. “How dare he!” he exclaimed with loathing.

  She turned glittering, cold eyes upon her husband. “You must be drunk, sir.” She held out her hand. “My letter.”

  The space between them stretched incredibly wide. His mouth was ruthless and hard as he noted she was back to being the ice queen. He tore open the letter to reveal its contents and read aloud with disbelief: “My dearest Jasmine, You need not send your sons if you will come to me in their stead.”

  High on Falcon’s cheekbones spots of red spread like blood. He threw the letter aside and grabbed her, his hands bruising her shoulders. “Holy God, I’d sooner kill you. I’d see you dead first!”

  She raised her arms and threw aside his hands. “Surely the decision is mine,” she said icily.

  Falcon was in a black temper. “Leave us. Seek your room, madame.”

  She left, but she certainly did not seek her room. Instead she sought out Moira, who was happy that at last her sons would be put into service that would train them for knighthood. They were long past the age of five, when most boys became pages. She could ask for no greater household than that of the boys’ uncle, Hubert de Burgh. Perhaps William would send Murphy with them to see to their daily welfare.

  Moira asked nothing more than to stay by William’s side to the end, no matter how long or how short that time turned out to be.

  Jasmine sighed and squeezed Moira’s hand. She could not burden the other woman with her own dilemma; she had quite enough with which she must cope. Jasmine climbed the stairs to her chamber and began to remove her clothes from the great wardrobe. She would sleep in the nursery with the children from now on, until it was time to leave, she thought to herself. With that last thought she realized that she had already made her decision.

  She would never place her sons in John’s hands. She would never separate them from their father. John had made her decision so much easier for her. Instead of disobeying his commands and bringing the wrath of the king down upon the de Burghs, she would simply go to join her grandmother. She shuddered at the thought of the journey back to England for she knew not what she had to face at the end of it. But perhaps with guile and cunning a
nd the blessed help of St. Jude, she would not be forced to submit to him. And if she did have to submit after all, then that was the price she was willing to pay to keep her sons free.

  She heard Falcon’s booted step on the threshold but kept her back to the door. After he had observed her for a moment, he asked in a deadly quiet tone, “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

  “I’m removing my things to the nursery,” she said stiffly.

  “Jasmine, I’m sorry I acted like a jealous fool over John’s letter.” Then after a slight pause, he said, “This isn’t about that, is it?”

  The bedgown she was holding slipped through her fingers as she faced him. “I went to Bunratty … I saw your other child.”

  “I have no other child!” he shouted, his temper stormy.

  “I hate you!” she cried vehemently. “Have you any notion how wildly I loved you? I held nothing back, I gave you everything. You have degraded me by forcing me to live a lie.”

  He saw her mind was made up, no matter how he protested. She had no faith in him whatsoever. Falcon stood silent and proud, his face closed against her. He dismissed the idea of dragging Morganna before her to. Swear that the child was not his. His honor was at stake! His word was his bond. His whole life was based upon his integrity. When Jasmine came to realize he had kept his marriage vows sacred, he would accept her apology.

  Before the week was out William de Burgh took to his bed. He relied on Falcon’s judgment regarding his sons’ placement. His brother Hubert was in charge of so many castles the decision was a difficult one. As justiciar of England he held all the Cinque Ports plus every castle at every other port on England’s southern coast, from Sandwich to Corfe. Falcon thought it best to send William’s sons to a castle that was de Burgh personal property rather than one of which Hubert was only warden. So in the end it was decided the boys would go to Castle Rising in Norfolk. It was far enough removed from the political intrigue of London and it was a safe northern haven should France ever carry out her continual threat of an invasion. Indeed, Castle Rising was the place where Falcon would send his own sons, once his delaying tactics were exhausted.

  The ship that was to take the boys was being readied, as they must sail before the gales of September made the seas treacherous. Jasmine contemplated telling Gervase her intentions but reluctantly decided against it. His first loyalty would always be to Falcon, and he would feel duty-bound to reveal her intent. Her only difficulty would lie in evading Tam, for he took his duty of guarding her most seriously. She had a twinge of conscience when she thought of the punishment Falcon would mete out to him.

  In the end she told only Big Meg and Glynis, the little servant from Wales. Glynis was terrified and begged her to change her mind. “My lady, when he learns what you are planning he will beat you to jelly.”

  “Most likely,” agreed Jasmine, “so be sure to keep my confidence.”

  Big Meg held her tongue. She knew how much this woman loved her sons and to what degree her heart would ache for them.

  “Meg, promise me you will stay with the children until they are past their second birthday. Somehow I will try to return by then.” The thought came to her that likely de Burgh would not have her back. “At least I promise to come for a visit.”

  Getting her things aboard ship was easier than she thought. Since William’s condition was rapidly deteriorating, Jasmine offered to take over the task of readying the boys for their journey to England so that Moira would be free to stay at her husband’s bedside. Murphy was going with William’s sons, and he saw to the horses and dogs they were taking with them, as well as an ever-growing collection of belongings that active young boys decided they could not bear to leave behind.

  Falcon’s temperament was dark and stormy as the gulf between himself and Jasmine widened. The moment he saw William’s sons safely aboard and the ship had weighed anchor, he intended to leave for Portumna and stay there until the castle was finished. And thus three weeks elapsed before he could stand the separation no longer and returned to have it out with his wife. When he discovered that she had left him to return to England, he nearly ran mad.

  He questioned all the women over and over. Each put into words her own feelings of why Jasmine had gone— so that her sons could remain free—but their words did not penetrate his brain to make any sense of it. She should have trusted him. Didn’t she think him capable of protecting his own sons? The twins were the most precious part of their lives. He would have agreed to the king’s demands but never actually complied with sending them as hostages, at least not while they were still babes.

  Tam knew enough to keep his distance from de Burgh, and even Gower received his share of de Burgh’s black temper.

  William died. Because Falcon was kept busy seeing to the details of the burial and comforting Moira as best he could, he couldn’t get drunk and stay drunk. Falcon found it difficult to share his feelings with another man, but finally he turned to Gervase and exposed the deep hurt he was feeling. “Why did she go?” he demanded wretchedly.

  “The honor Jasmine carries in her heart cannot be explained,” said Gervase. “She is a great lady. Can you imagine the courage of a woman who will not betray her sons, even though she faces disaster herself? Falcon, she had a terrible dilemma and acquitted herself with her faultless integrity.”

  Falcon smashed a fist into his hand. “God’s breath, I’m going to go and get her. I’ll not let that evil swine besmirch her.”

  When the de Burgh ship delivered Jasmine to Castle Rising in Norfolk, she was surprised and delighted to find Avisa with Hubert de Burgh.

  “Darling, don’t look so shocked. We were quietly married a few weeks ago, after Beatrice died. Poor lady had been ill a long time.”

  Jasmine, wondering wildly if Hubert had killed Geoffrey de Mandeville, was relieved when he read her thoughts and chuckled. “Fellow conveniently died of a fever last year; saved me the trouble of disposing of him!”

  As Avisa enfolded her in a welcoming embrace, Jasmine said, “Oh, Avisa, I am so happy for you. It is what you have both wanted for years.”

  Avisa laughed. “Isn’t there an old saying that when the Gods wish to punish us they grant us our wishes? Have a rest from what must have been a wretched voyage and after dinner we’ll sit up half the night and gossip.”

  Jasmine put her hand out to Hubert. “Your brother William’s condition is critical. He may even be gone by now, but he wouldn’t want you to grieve, he only wants what is best for his sons.” Jasmine’s young nephews had already galloped off to explore the countryside the moment their mounts and dogs were brought ashore.

  At dinner the conversation focused on the Magna Carta that the barons had forced John to sign.

  Avisa said, “I don’t for one moment think that John intended to honor the document, but the barons are holding him to it.”

  Hubert, ever the king’s advocate, said, “Avisa, you are being ungenerous I think. You do not know John’s intent.”

  She laughed. “I know John. That says it all!”

  Jasmine turned to Hubert. “Can you explain the Magna Carta to me in simple terms, my lord? I am woefully ignorant.”

  “Well, it’s more or less a contract. If the king gives his vassals good government, they will give him good service. It’s basically an acknowledgment on John’s part that the tenants in chief, or barons, have the right as well as the power to call the king to account.”

  “There! So you know automatically that John hates every word of it!” Avisa put in.

  Hubert continued. “Of course whatever the king grants to his barons, they in turn must observe toward the men below them. The Great Charter has some magnificent clauses, which I have had to learn by heart, being justiciar. ‘No free man shall be seized or imprisoned or dispossessed or outlawed or banished or in any way injured, nor will we attack him or send against him, except by the legal judgment of his peers or by the law of the land.’”

  Avisa teased, “Hugh, stop showing
off. You know what these de Burgh men are like! The main points are no taxation unless agreed by council. The church is to be free to have its rights and liberties unhurt as are the ancient customs of the cities to be preserved. No man can be kept in prison without trial, and goods and property can no longer be seized for debts if they can be discharged. Best of all, darling, women finally have some rights. Widows can no longer be forced to marry against their will!”

  Hugh winked at Avisa, which prompted her to point out, “If that had always been the law, think of all the time and heartache we could have saved.”

  “Our love is sweeter for the waiting,” Hugh said gallantly.

  “Waiting?” Avisa hooted. “I haven’t denied you in years. De Burgh men don’t take no for an answer.” Avisa saw a shadow cross Jasmine’s face, and knew there was trouble with Falcon. “Come, darling, let’s go upstairs where we can be private and I’ll shock you with tales of the court’s latest indiscretions.”

  Upstairs in her chamber, Avisa poured Jasmine a goblet of sweet wine and made her comfortable on a chaise longue. “Life is strange. Once upon a time you thought to serve me as your queen; now we are both Lady de Burgh.”

  Jasmine’s heart was so heavy, she was close to tears. “Whatever is amiss between you and Falcon?” asked Avisa.

  Jasmine shook her head. “He-he was unfaithful,” she whispered.

  “Is that all?” asked Avisa, laughing at her innocence. “Forgive me, darling. It’s simply unimportant to a woman who has had three husbands, married to a man who has had three wives.”

  Jasmine considered her words. “But, Avisa, being first isn’t so important so long as you are his last love.”

  Avisa was amused. “I don’t for one moment delude myself that I will be his last love. I am older than Hugh, so I don’t even imagine I’ll be his last wife!”

  “Oh, Avisa, you make my troubles seem inconsequential.”

  “Darling, you are in danger of taking yourself seriously, and that can be deadly. What you need is a little flirtation, an amusing little affair, after which you’ll be so much more understanding of your poor husband’s peccadillos.”