Chapter Eleven
Desiree sat clutching Frewyn’s hand, seeking comfort rather than wishing to give it. For a whole horrible week she had struggled to keep her misery secret from her husband, a feat more difficult because she had been spending almost all her time in Frewyn’s chamber. He had protested at first but then guessed Vachel was trying to seduce her because he was old and sick. After that, Frewyn had sent Elias and Father Harold to keep Vachel company, except at dinner when courtesy demanded Desiree’s presence at table with a guest.
A worse problem was that she had not dared to tell Frewyn that Alex’s brother had come to order Alex home. She feared it would kill her husband; he loved Alex. He was still helpless, but Alex had filled his life with interest and reward. Desiree knew that Sir Simon would send another castellan, but that new castellan would not be Alex.
Frewyn’s eyes fixed on Desiree’s anxious clasp on his hand. At last he said, “I wish you would tell me what the trouble is, my dear. I know that…something is wrong…” He was silent for a moment then suddenly clutched her hand with convulsive strength, almost coming off his pillows with his terrible anxiety. “My God, dear God, is Alex wounded? Not dead!”
“No, no,” Desiree cried, and then shuddered as a terrible fear turned her cold. “Oh, that is impossible. He took a troop with him. Had there been any mischance, someone would have returned to tell us.” Then she breathed a sigh and smiled. “What geese we are, Frewyn, honking over nothing. You know as well as I that Reid rode in just yesterday to deliver a prisoner and said all was well.”
For a little while Frewyn lay still against his pillows gathering strength after the shock. Then, slowly but steadily, he said, “But your trouble is about Alex.”
There was never much expression on Frewyn’s face, but some subtle change in the relatively immobile features told Desiree that to deny the problem now would cause him far more worry than to describe it. Besides, she thought suddenly, sitting a bit more upright. Frewyn was very clever and knew the law. Perhaps he would be able to think of some way to keep Alex at Exceat.
“Yes, it is about Alex,” she admitted with a small sigh. “Master Vachel says he has come to bring Alex his father’s command to return to Lessai.”
“Why…should he order Alex…home now?” Frewyn’s one freely movable brow edged toward the bridge of his nose. “Can he be John’s…ally? Seeking to…create a weak spot…along the coast?”
Desiree’s eyes widened. “Oh, I wonder if that can be the reason. Master Vachel told Father Harold that he had received an offer of a place in a high nobleman’s household. But I do not think he ever named the man. Could it be John?”
They exchanged a hopeful glance and began to talk about how Desiree could extract information from Vachel about whose household he had been invited to join and whether his purpose in taking Alex away could be to weaken the coastal defense.
When Elias came in to take her place—after some pointed comments from Vachel about the lady of the household always being so late at the dinner table when there was a guest—Desiree rose reluctantly. Little as either of them liked Vachel, he was Alex’s brother. Alex might love him and neither wanted to offend. Although, Desiree had difficulty believing dearling Alex would have such bad taste.
Desiree was not allowed to seat herself as she had done before Vachel arrived. No, he took her arm and held her back while he pulled out the bench for her, directing her with several soft pressures on her arm and one along her back to be seated. Then he slid the bench in, leaving enough room for him to seat himself…in Alex’s place…to her right.
He immediately made some remark about how her presence lit up the dark room. Desiree repressed a sigh and responded with a trite remark about March being gloomy because of the rain. Father Harold quickly began a disquisition on why it was rainy at the end of March and into April and God’s prescience about the need of sprouting crops to be kept moist.
The first course arrived, and Desiree was able to give all her attention to her food. Her enjoyment of it was somewhat marred by having Vachel carve for her. She did get a tiny fillip of pleasure out of noticing that although he set choice slices on her trencher, he furtively kept the very best for himself. Occasionally, he touched her hand.
Hastily, in an attempt not to scream at him not to touch her, Desiree said, “I have been thinking about your prospects for the future, Master Vachel. You must be very excited and eager to join the household of… Oh, dear, how thick-witted I am. I seem to have forgotten to whom you said you would be beholden.”
Vachel gazed at her languishingly. “Oh, I am not so eager to be a liege man as I once was,” he murmured in a voice he obviously meant to be suggestive, and smiled at her with such intent in his eyes that Desiree was tempted to spit in his face. “This is so comfortable a lodging, and the company, at least at dinnertime, is so beautiful and inviting that—”
Vachel’s voice checked at a sudden disturbance at the door. Several servants cried out wordlessly. Byford and Godric rose from their places at the table for upper servants and turned, their hands on their sword hilts. But they did not move and the servants coming toward the table to clear away the remainders suddenly shied out of the way.
Then Alex was past them, standing on the service side of the table. He was bedraggled with rain, his hair plastered to his skull, his surcoat soaked, and droplets running down the mail covering his arms. What was startling, however, was the look of utter horror on his face as he stared across the table at his brother.
Desiree could not help it. She burst out laughing. Alex blushed, likely thinking she was laughing because he looked like a drowned rat, but she did not care, she could explain later that she was just overjoyed to see that Alex did not like his brother any better than she did. He would not be in the least hurt, she suspected, if Vachel complained about her sequestering herself with her husband and ignoring the courtesy due a guest.
“Oh, Alex,” she cried. “I am so glad to see you.”
Vachel, seeing his brother’s expression of horror, seeing that expression intensify when Desiree laughed and then ease as Lady Desiree welcomed him, was delighted. Obviously Alex was afraid that Vachel had already exposed him and that he would no longer be welcome in Exceat.
“And I am glad to be here,” Alex replied, tearing his eyes from Vachel’s face. “I need to speak to Sir Frewyn, Lady Desiree. Do you think he is well enough to see me?”
To explain his lies before I expose them, Vachel thought. “Why not?” he said aloud. “We should go together, I think.”
Before Alex could answer his brother, Desiree protested, “You are dripping wet. You must be freezing and starving. Go change your clothes. I will tell the servants to bring you something to eat and Father Harold will tell Frewyn that you are home safe. He was worried about you.”
“Lady Desiree, I need to speak to Sir Frewyn first. There is something I need to tell him.”
“Not without me,” Vachel said. “There is something I need to tell him too.”
Alex stared at his brother in total befuddlement. “You know what Nicolaus of Lewes was trying to do?”
“Nicolaus of Lewes?” Vachel echoed. “What has he to do with anything?”
“He has a great deal to do with why I need to speak to Sir Frewyn at once,” Alex snapped.
Father Harold stood up. “I will go tell Frewyn that you are returned and there is an emergency. It will take a few minutes for Pollock to make him ready to see you. Meanwhile, go put on dry clothing.”
Byford who had heard most of this exchange, the servants having fallen silent when they saw Alex standing tensely at the table, came to Alex’s elbow and said he would help him disarm, calling him “my lord”.
Vachel watched uneasily. He knew Byford to be strong and clever and to have near absolute control over the men-at-arms in the keep. And now it seemed that Byford acknowledged Alex as his superior. Vachel decided he would try first to convince Alex to return home to Lessai. Only if that failed wou
ld he expose Alex’s lies.
In a very short time Alex was back wearing a gown of a soft brown wool. As he emerged from his chamber—Vachel had discovered which it was but had found nothing of value in it, Alex’s clothing being sparse and too large for him anyway—everyone stood up. Desiree preceded them into Frewyn’s part of the hall, reopening the door to gesture them in a few moments after she had entered herself.
Alex went directly to Frewyn’s chair and knelt down beside it. Vachel pushed forward between Father Harold and Elias. Both looked affronted but did not speak because Alex was saying, “My lord, I have done something that may be considered an act of aggression by Nicolaus of Lewes. We came upon a troop of men camped—“
Vachel, who had opened his mouth to tell Frewyn not to listen to Alex’s excuses, closed his mouth abruptly. It seemed that Alex was not going to try to wriggle out of lying about being a knight, at least not immediately.
“Camped where?” Frewyn asked.
“Northwest of Seaford, my lord. It was in a valley, perhaps two-thirds of a league from the town.”
“Desiree’s land?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then nothing…you did…is outside the law. They were on our…land.” Frewyn gestured for Alex to rise.
“Even though they were not doing any wrong? I know now that they were Nicolaus of Lewes’s men and were likely planning harm, but they had not done any yet. They had not raided. They were only camped.”
“Nicolaus’s men? How did you…learn?”
“By accident. Brydger—he is one of our men-at-arms and had dismounted and gone aside to piss—came across another man doing the same. Brydger is a fierce-looking brute, but not really a bad man. When this other saw him, however, he fell into such a panic that he startled his own horse, which he had not tied securely, and when he saw the horse was beyond him he tried desperately to run away.”
Byford snickered. “What a fool to try to run. Why did he not simply give Brydger a ‘good day’ and stand there to finish his business?”
Alex smiled slightly. “He had a guilty conscience. Naturally when Brydger saw him trying to run, he forgot all about pissing and seized the man. He had sense enough to clap a hand over his mouth too and brought him back to me. He was well dressed but not armed. I took him for a clerk, and so he was.”
“With a purse full of letters?” Desiree said. “Are you not glad now that Frewyn asked Father Harold to teach you to read?”
“Indeed I am, my lady. If I had not been able to read the letters, I might have let the man go, thinking that Brydger’s fierce aspect had startled him. But you are quite right. The man was carrying letters and was on his way with them to Seaford to take ship for France.”
“Find out…which ship. Most likely innocent…but too much trade with…France…should be watched.”
“Yes, my lord. Most of the letters were about trade, but one was not. That one was written to ‘My good and gracious lord’ and thanked that lord for allowing a sum of money to buy mercenaries who the writer would send on to seek employment in a keep guarding the seashore.”
“‘To open that keep…to the invaders?”
“I thought so, my lord, although the letter did not say so in so many words. Still, I saw that the clerk was a fearful churl, so I said at once, ‘Treason,’ and he began to cry it was none such, that Sir Nicolaus had a private grudge and the target was Exceat Keep—in his panic the fool had forgotten that my men and I must be from Exceat.”
“Could be both at once.” Frewyn paused to breathe. “If ‘my good and…gracious…lord’ is John, he expects to get…what he paid for.”
Alex smiled broadly. “So perhaps we could strike down two purposes with one blow. We of Exceat could be rid of an enemy and this might be the proof Sir Simon was seeking that Nicolaus should not be left to hold Lewes?” He grimaced. “I am so sorry I do not know where Sir Simon is. I would bring him the clerk and the letters.”
As he heard that, a great light burst upon Vachel. He himself could take the prisoner and letters to Roselynde. If Simon were there, he could stay just long enough to poison him. Then he could ride to Lewes and warn Nicolaus that his clerk had been taken and his men-at-arms captured. He had to swallow hard twice to keep from laughing. He would be a hero in both Roselynde and Lewes.
“You do not have time to be carrying prisoners and messages to Sir Simon,” Vachel said. “Our father has ordered that you go back home to Lessai at once. I have the offer of a place in a nobleman’s household and Father desires that there be two sons at home.”
Every head turned to look at Vachel. Alex stared for a moment, eyes wide with horror. Before he could speak, Vachel said smoothly that he had just come from Roselynde and he would gladly take the prisoner and the letters there. It was Alex’s duty, he said, to respond immediately to his father’s command.
Frewyn’s mouth had dropped open and his breath rasped. Desiree had her hands pressed to her lips, tears shone in her eyes. Father Harold and Elias had moved closer together as if to find strength in each other. Byford looked stunned. If Alex left Exceat and a new castellan was appointed, his place as master-at-arms might be lost.
“Nonsense.” Alex’s voice, calm and strong, dropped into the silence. “My father hardly knew I was alive when I lived in his house. I am not certain he knew my name. Moreover, not only is my father still strong and healthy, but he has a strong and healthy son whom he has trained to be his heir. And that son has two strong sons.”
“It is your duty to protect Lessai,” Vachel shouted.
“From what?” Alex asked. “No war threatens Lessai.”
“How do you know?” Vachel countered. “There is much unrest in Normandy.”
“I know because before Sir Simon brought me to take oath as castellan here, he bade Lady Alinor’s fisherfolk to listen for any news concerning Lessai and to pass on that news to Lady Alinor. If any great unrest swept Normandy, the fisherfolk would have heard of it and Lady Alinor would have sent me the news.”
Vachel could hardly believe his eyes and ears. In Lessai, when he had given Alex an order, the boy had slunk away to do his bidding. What had happened to Alex in the few months he had been gone from Lessai? There was no fear in him now, no doubt.
“You will be cursed for shunning your duty,” Vachel said.
“Te absolve!”Father Harold said, stepping forward and making the sign of the cross over Alex. “Alex does not have one clear duty, but two. He has given his oath as castellan of Exceat and he is his father’s son. However, Christ the Merciful knows mortal weakness. No man can be in two places at once. It is my conviction and belief that God would see Exceat’s need as more pressing than that of Lessai.”
Furious, Vachel took a half step forward, fist raised to strike the old priest, but Alex was in the way. Vachel slammed the fist into Alex, who did not seem to notice. Suddenly, Vachel realized that Alex not only stood a head taller than him, but was now as broad and solid as a wall.
“Father will never speak your name again,” Vachel cried desperately.
Alex laughed. “He never spoke my name in all the years I lived with him. How will matters be different for me now? I am finished with Lessai. Uncle Simon has been more of a father to me than he of my blood ever was. I will hold by the faith I swore to my uncle. I will remain here at Exceat until Sir Frewyn, Lady Desiree, or Sir Simon bids me depart.” And he turned his back on Vachel and knelt down again beside Frewyn. “My lord, before I let you rest, what is to be done about the men-at-arms we captured?”
But Frewyn had reached the end of his strength. His eyes closed, his head fallen to the side, he could barely whisper, “What…Desiree…advises…and you think…best, my son.”
Elias had sidled around the group to his master and took his limp hand. Pollock came up on Frewyn’s other side.
“Enough,” Elias said. “Sir Frewyn needs his bed.”
Out in the hall, the group separated. Sobbing softly, Desiree hurried to the tower stair t
hat would take her up to the women’s quarters. The last words her husband had spoken had made her heart clamp painfully. Never, since Alex had first come, had Frewyn failed to offer opinion and advice. That he should, on the matter of the captured men-at-arms, which could have serious consequences, leave the decision to her and Alex…that was ominous.
Alex stood looking after her, longing to follow her, to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew that if he so much as touched a finger to her sleeve or spoke sympathy she would be disgusted. Even though he too loved Frewyn, for a man who desired a woman to comfort her because the husband that separated them was dying…that was ugly.
Father Harold, his eyes full of tears, went to the chapel to pray.
Byford pulled his forelock to Alex and went to join Godric, who had not yet finished his dinner or left the table. Byford was vaguely sorry about Sir Frewyn, but Alex had said he would remain in Exceat; that confirmed his and Godric’s positions. Still, he needed to tell Godric what had happened. Maybe they needed to make a few mistakes so that Sir Alex would know how badly he was needed at Exceat. They certainly needed to keep a close eye on that Vachel.
Vachel, finding himself alone with Alex, decided to make the first move in his newest plan. “Where is this pouch of letters and the messenger?” he asked.
“What does it matter to you?” Alex asked in turn, still watching the tower into which Desiree had disappeared.
“I thought you wanted them to go to Roselynde at once,” Vachel said sneering.
Alex pulled his gaze from the tower stair and instead stared at his brother for a long moment. “You wish to ride for Roselynde now? Regardless that it is raining fit to drown a fish?”
Vachel shuddered slightly thinking of the misery of riding wet and cold, however, he did not need to go far. He could take lodging in Seaford. This was the most perfect excuse he would ever have to return to Roselynde, discover where Sir Simon was, and hurry off to find him. Once Simon was dead, he could “borrow” his seal, find a clerk to write an order that Alex leave Exceat and Vachel replace him.
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