“This one is both,” Thomas spat. “For all the gold you have given him, I cannot believe it has taken ten days just to see the king’s administrator. What price to finally reach the king himself?”
“It matters little,” Katherine said as she sat straighter on the wooden bench. “Not many receive an audience with the chamberlain, let alone King Edward. We cannot—”
She stopped abruptly as two ladies and a nobleman approached. The nobleman bowed at Katherine while the two ladies pointedly ignored her behind their fluttering fans.
“The ladies here are less than friendly.”
Katherine felt her face flush at his devilish grin. But she could not deny his observation. More than once during their hours of waiting in this remote castle hallway had noblemen stopped with flimsy excuses for their sudden presence, only to be dragged away minutes later by attending ladies.
Now they were alone again, and Katherine resumed her spoken thoughts. “Thomas, we will only have one chance to present the reasons for an audience with the king. We cannot fail now.”
“Have you not the book?”
“Of course. You bear the burden of its weight every day as we take it here.”
“Then fear not,” Thomas said. “It is proof enough for the king to take action against the Druids. And no longer will we fight alone.”
“Yet—”
“It is enough. You will tell the chamberlain how we found the book and what it contains. The Druids will no longer move in secrecy, and without that secrecy—their greatest weapon—we will prove victorious.”
Katherine knew Thomas spoke true. She had rehearsed again and again their urgent story for King Edward. No mention would be made of Merlin’s Immortals, only of the Druids. She would tell him that—
The church bells rang, a sound that echoed clearly in the silence of the hallway. Almost instantly, the courtier appeared at the corner. He moved no closer, only beckoned from that safe position.
Katherine followed, with Thomas close behind.
Let my words impress, she prayed silently. Let them strike truer than any arrows.
Their yellow-legged guide led them through a maze of corridors, then stopped at an arched doorway. Two guards stood in the recess of the doorway; each solemnly stepped aside at the impatient snapping of the courtier’s slender fingers.
“Go inside,” the courtier said as he pushed open the large double doors. “And expect no more than ten minutes of audience.”
Katherine swept past him, snorting with quiet amusement to see how the servant kept ample distance between Thomas and himself.
The doors shut behind them.
It was a luxurious enough chamber to contain its own fireplace, now filled with white ashes of a fire long past. A portrait of Edward II hung on the wall above the fireplace. Tapestries of deer hunts lined the other walls, and on the far side of the room, an upright divider, much like the dividers used in dressing chambers, hid the rear portion of the chamber. One large chair, with leather armrests and footstool, dominated the center of the room.
No one awaited them.
“Strange,” Thomas said to Katherine. “I assumed the Duke of Whittingham would be here. It seems all these royal riffraff rush to and fro at such a frightful pace, that he would be anxious to hear us and send us off again.”
“Not when he hears my words,” Katherine vowed. “It—”
She was interrupted by the opening of the doors.
A large, stoop-shouldered man in a purple cloak entered the chamber. He bowed once, then stood near the chair and placed one foot upon the footstool.
“You have begged audience,” he said. And waited.
“For good reason,” Katherine said. She drew a deep breath. “My servant carries a book that has lain undisturbed in the Holy Land since the time of Roman soldiers. This book contains proof of a secret circle of false sorcerers and their plot, which now threatens England and the good King Edward.”
Forty-One
The large man leaned forward, so that his elbow rested on the knee elevated by his stance upon the footstool.
“My dear child,” the large man said, “if you meant to intrigue me with such a bold opening statement, you have succeeded. Not that you need such a strategy to hold a man’s attention.” He winked.
Katherine bowed in a courtesy to accept the compliment and hoped Thomas would do no more than clench his fists as he did now.
“My lord,” she said quickly, “my words are truth.”
“Indeed,” the man said with a voice of honey. “Continue.”
Katherine began her explanation much as Thomas had when convincing Rashim that a treasure did exist. She told of the time before the Romans conquered, when Druids ruled the land. She told of the Druid secrets of science and astronomy, and their secrecy, and of the Roman general who plundered their great wealth, only to be summoned to the Holy Land, where the wealth lay hidden in the Caves of Letters for so many centuries. She explained how bandits had taken them and how Mameluke soldiers had followed along the shore of the Dead Sea.
The large man held up a hand glittering with large rings.
Katherine stopped.
“How did you come into possession of this remarkable knowledge?” he asked. “And how is it you have just now returned with your story? We lost the Holy Lands to the infidels a generation ago.”
“My father was a Crusader knight,” Katherine said. “Forsaken in the Holy Land when the infidels defeated our armies. I was raised there, hidden among the peoples.”
She gestured to indicate her fine apparel and the jewelry around her neck.
“I do not have royal blood, as your courtier might have assumed. Rather, the treasure that my father found provided me with passage here and with the clothes I needed to gain entrance into royal society.”
The large man closed his eyes in thought. Without opening them, he said, “You and he found this treasure in a cave. You say you were held hostage by bandits and pursued by Mameluke soldiers. How did you escape with the treasure?”
“The bandits were overcome with greed,” she said. “My father and this servant were able to overcome them. We left the bandits in the pit in the cave for the soldiers to find.”
The large man opened his eyes in sudden surprise. “For the soldiers to find?”
“Yes.” Katherine explained how the soldiers had been tricked into following the main party of bandits. “As we left the cave and trekked through the ravine back to the Dead Sea, we dropped pieces of gold and jewelry, so that a trail of treasure led back to the cave. When we reached the shore of the Dead Sea, we turned north. The soldiers, instead of pursuing us along the shoreline, followed the treasure back to the cave, where they would be rewarded by the bulk of the treasure, and by the sight of bandits held helpless beside that treasure at the bottom of the pit.”
“Splendid!” The large man clapped his hands. “Absolutely splendid!”
His craggy face then became a frown of puzzlement. “Did you not feel dismay to leave such wealth behind?”
“Not when it meant our lives to attempt to keep it all,” Katherine said. “Besides, what we could carry ourselves was enough. And …”
Katherine paused. This was the most important moment.
“… and there was the book. The Druid book. It contains—”
“Nothing but the fanciful spinning of a fairy tale!” came a booming voice from behind the divider.
The large man dropped his foot from the footstool and straightened to ramrod-stiff attention.
“Your Grace, the Duke of Whittingham,” the large man whispered. “I did not know …”
“Think nothing of it,” the duke said as he stepped from behind the divider. “You had your instructions. Pretend to listen to these impostors. You could not know that I too wanted to listen in secrecy. But I have heard enough.”
Katherine barely registered those words, for the shock of recognition of the speaker hit her like the blow of a sword.
“Walera
n!” The uttering of his name was a low hiss, but it did not come from her lips.
Instead, it was like a curse from Thomas’s, as he too reeled with shock.
“You are dismissed,” the Duke of Whittingham said to the large man.
“Yes, Your Grace.” He bowed quickly, then almost ran from the chamber. The doors slammed shut behind him.
Waleran. Not even now, dressed in royal robes, did he have a single redeeming feature to lighten his appearance of fetid evil.
“You would do well not to call me Waleran,” he said. “The Duke of Whittingham is my title. And let me assure you, I have ways to punish those who do not address me properly.”
Katherine opened her mouth once, then shut it. Her thoughts were in such disarray that she was unable to find words.
“That is better,” Waleran said with a cruel leer, misinterpreting her silence as obedience. “You might have been able to escape me in the Holy Land, but you shall not be so fortunate twice.”
Forty-Two
You are such fools,” Waleran said laughing. His teeth were unevenly spaced and black with rot. “So easy to deceive.”
“How … the king’s chamberlain …” Katherine stopped, still nearly faint from surprise.
“How can the king’s chamberlain be a Druid? Or how can the king’s chamberlain accomplish so much as a Druid?”
Katherine nodded dumbly.
“Should it not be obvious? It is I who oversee all the Druid actions. And who better placed to oversee a kingdom than the right hand of the king himself? And why should you show such surprise? You know the Druids have penetrated all levels of society. Surely it would seem logical that a Druid attain the position of chamberlain. Especially when the previous chamberlain was a Druid. As was the previous. The unquestioned authority of this position gives great freedom and—” Waleran snapped his mouth shut and dropped his hand to his sword.
“Young man,” he said to Thomas with a voice promising death, “sit. Yes, immediately. On the floor. From there, you shall have difficulty continuing your attempted slow movement toward me.”
Thomas hesitated.
“Do you think it was an accident that you were searched? I know you do not have a weapon, and mine”—Waleran unsheathed his sword—“is coated with poison.” He paused. “Now sit! Or watch Katherine die.”
Thomas lowered himself onto the stone floor with great reluctance.
“Much better.” Waleran cackled, then broke into a wheeze. When he recovered his breath, he moved to the large chair in the center of the room and placed his sword beside him on the armrest. “I shall satisfy your curiosity. In turn, you shall satisfy mine.”
More like you shall gloat, Katherine thought.
“As you well know,” Waleran said, “it was I who posed as a fellow prisoner in the dungeon of Magnus during the time that Thomas and Sir William spent in captivity.” Waleran scowled. “During which I overheard nothing about that which we seek.”
Katherine grinned inside. Thomas kept his vow well. What still lies hidden at the monastery of his childhood might—
“I overheard nothing about that which we seek,” Waleran repeated, “and a freak child, whose face was burned, helped them escape.”
Again, Katherine found reason for hidden satisfaction. He does not know it was I behind those bandages.
“It was hardly worth my effort for what little I gained in that prison.” Waleran squirmed as if remembering the dank darkness and the flea-infested straw and the scurrying of rats. “However, my time in York paid dividends, as you know.”
Katherine bowed her head. Waleran had been in a neighboring cell as she spoke to the captured Earl of York. What he had heard had been enough to—
Waleran cackled again. “Yes. Thomas thought he was so brave and noble, capturing Isabelle and holding her as hostage. Little did he know we had deliberately allowed that, so that he would lead us to—”
“You saw the old man dead,” Thomas interrupted with bitterness. “Was that not enough?”
Katherine kept her head bowed this time so that Waleran would not see the gleam of triumph in her eyes. Yes, Thomas had led Waleran’s soldiers to her and the old man. But Hawkwood, in the confusion of the attack, had pretended death by swallowing one of the prepared pills he always carried among the herbs and potions hidden beneath his cloak. This pill, made from the dried and crushed bark of rhododendrons, caused unconsciousness, coldness of the skin, and a vastly reduced heart rate. A gamble, for any of the soldiers might have run him through with a sword, but a necessary and successful one.
“Dead, and not a moment too soon.” Waleran laughed. “His death made it easy to outmaneuver you. Following you to the Holy Land was child’s play. And such simple minds.” Waleran choked on his laughter, then recovered. “Should it not be obvious that if there were Immortals in the Holy Land, that Druids would also have their spies?”
“Lord Hubert Baldwin,” Thomas spat.
“None other,” Waleran said. “One of your most trusted men and one of our greatest allies. Without his help, Magnus might never have fallen as it first did.”
Katherine felt frozen to the ground. So many died then. A generation of Immortals wiped out. And now the Druids would be able to move openly against an entire country.
“He is a man of strong arm, but limited intelligence. And I did not want to soil my own hands with such matters. So after he had secured you, his task was complete. I naturally handled the more nuanced matters.”
“Baldwin now rots in a Jerusalem dungeon,” Thomas challenged.
“He was a fool to allow himself to be taken in Jerusalem.” Waleran shrugged. “No matter. I needed to return immediately to England. As a chamberlain, I have freedom but not unlimited freedom, and the situation seemed to be in hand, especially since the Mameluke officials are not averse to bribes.”
Then Waleran grinned, an ugly, evil grin of stinking breath and smug triumph. “You have reported the rest. What he failed to do, you accomplished for us. What we lost so many centuries ago, you recovered and against all odds, returned it to England.”
He stood and rubbed his hands briskly. “And now. I shall take that book.”
Forty-Three
With reluctance, Katherine nodded at Thomas.
“Not so, my dear,” Waleran said. “You take the book from him and slowly hand it to me. He is young enough and strong enough to attempt an attack.”
Waleran placed his hand on the sword’s hilt as he directed his words at Katherine. “And if you attempt anything, I shall run you through.”
Thomas unwrapped the book. Katherine took it with both hands and extended it to Waleran.
He merely smiled.
“You think I will reach for it and drop my guard? Place it on the armrest and step away.”
Katherine did as instructed.
When she had retreated to her previous position, Waleran opened the book and glanced inside.
“Ah. Splendid,” he breathed. “I see already many of the secrets we lost over the centuries.”
He ran a dirty finger down one of the pages. “Here. A mixture of common garden herbs to induce madness … there, a prediction of the stars’ movement, knowledge to impress superstitious peasants.”
Waleran paused. “But you already know these weapons. The eclipse during the hanging of the knight. That was masterful.” He mused further. “Of course, Hawkwood is dead and I need not worry …”
He slammed his fist down on the book, snapping Katherine’s head upward in attention.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice no longer contemplative but ugly and threatening. “What did you hope to accomplish with this book?”
Katherine bit her tongue.
“Tell me!” Waleran roared. “Silence gains you nothing!”
He leaped to his feet and placed the tip of his sword against Katherine’s throat.
“I need only pierce the skin,” Waleran said, in a voice unexpectedly silky, “and she dies. So tell me.”
“At the back,” Thomas said hurriedly. “At the back of the book lies the Druid outline for means of taking a country. Key towns to hold. Key people to bribe. Although it is dated by the passage of centuries, it shows intent. Proof of a Druid master plan, to be delivered to King Edward. That, and news of what is happening in northern towns now, was to be enough for him to consider a Druid threat in this day and age. With his help, we hoped to stop you.”
“Children, children,” Waleran said with insincere sympathy as he stepped away from Katherine and sat once again in his chair. “What delusions you carry. King Edward himself is a pliable fool, who relies heavily on my advice. And he is so distracted now with war against Scotland that I am allowed to dictate our domestic affairs.”
Waleran laughed. “Do you think it is an accident that a hopeless battle against Scotland preoccupies him? Hardly. Once again, my advice. As I said, a useful distraction, and one that weakens the entire country.”
Waleran then sighed and stared into the distance. “Thomas,” he said softly, “give us what we have always wanted from you. What you were entrusted to guard since birth.”
Still Thomas sat silent.
“You have a simple choice,” Waleran said. “Join us and gain the wealth and power of the land’s most powerful earl. Or remain silent and see Katherine die.”
“No!” Katherine uttered. “My life is nothing compared to what he seeks. Thomas, I die gladly.”
“Thomas?” Waleran purred.
Still Thomas said nothing.
“A difficult choice?” Waleran asked. “Perhaps time in the torture chambers will loosen your tongue.”
Waleran did not wait for a response.
Instead, he raised his voice. “Guards!”
The door opened instantly.
Waleran stood and pointed to Thomas and Katherine.
“Take them to the Tower.”
Forty-Four
Blades of Valor Page 16
