‘What meeting?’
‘He is holding a council of war.’
It was a complete transformation. Men who had revelled in the hall on the previous evening now sat stern-faced round the oak table. Walls which had echoed to music and laughter now eavesdropped on earnest discussion. The air of celebration had been decisively supplanted by an atmosphere of high seriousness. Important decisions were about to be taken.
Earl Hugh sat the head of the table. William Malbank, Robert Cook, Richard Vernon, Hamo of Mascy, Reginald Balliol, Bigot of Loges and Hugo of Delamere were in attendance.
Hugh’s voice was low but his eyes were ominously bright.
‘I will not suffer this humiliation,’ he said. ‘I wish to retaliate without delay.’
‘Against whom, my lord?’ asked William Malbank. ‘We do not know who shot that fateful arrow.’
‘A Welsh archer.’
‘Acting on whose authority?’
‘The followers of Gruffydd ap Cynan,’ said Hugh. ‘Because they cannot release their prince, they try to kill the man who holds him prisoner. Their motive is clear.’
‘I agree,’ said Hamo of Mascy. ‘Trouble is brewing. That arrow was but a warning of the battle that is to come.’
‘They will find us ready for them,’ vowed Hugh.
‘My men will be at your back, my lord,’ said Hamo.
Others were quick to offer their support as well but Malbank’s remained a dissenting voice. He looked round the table at the other barons and ignored the hostile stares which he was receiving.
‘You are very angry,’ he observed, ‘and you have every right to be so. What happened in the forest was unforgivable. Raoul Lambert was murdered by an assassin’s arrow which was destined for a much higher prize.’ He glanced at Hugh. ‘We must thank God that it missed its real target.’
There was loud endorsement for that comment. Hamo and Reginald Balliol both banged the table to indicate assent.
‘Earl Hugh was spared,’ continued Malbank.
‘In order to strike back at my enemies,’ said Hugh.
‘Yes, my lord, but do it in no spirit of anger. I feel as you and the others feel, but I school myself to hold back.’
‘What ails you, William? Cowardice?’
‘No!’ declared the other. ‘I will raise my sword as readily as any man in this room when I have reason to do so. But I will not strike out in blind anger and nor should you.’
‘What should we do?’ taunted Hamo. ‘Sue for peace?’
‘Identify our foe more carefully before we go to war.’
‘Wales is our foe.’
‘No, Hamo. Certain Welshmen, that is all. Let us make sure who they are before we launch any attack across the border.’
‘There is some sense in that,’ decided Bigot of Loges. ‘Commit ourselves too soon and we run the risk of spreading our forces across too wide a front. William Malbank is right. We should strike at the point where it would be most effective.’
‘In Wales,’ growled Hugh. ‘Left to me, I’d kill every man, woman and child in that accursed country! I’d wipe it completely off the map! How dare they try to assassinate me! I’ll be revenged on the whole lot of them!’
‘Choose the right target for that revenge,’ said Malbank.
‘I will. He languishes in my dungeon.’
Even Hamo opposed that course of action. ‘You must not kill their prince, my lord,’ he said with alarm. ‘He is our most valuable hostage. Lose him and we lose our major bulwark against the Welsh.’
‘That bulwark did not prevent an assassin’s attack.’
‘One man was sent where an army would not have succeeded.’
‘Listen to Hamo,’ urged Malbank. ‘We must not take out our anger on Gruffydd ap Cynan. He is their figurehead and is far more use to us under lock and key. While he is in Chester, his men are reminded daily of our superior power and advantage.’
There were murmurs of consent. Earl Hugh was irritated.
‘I demand action now!’ he said, slapping the table with the flat of his hand. ‘God’s tits! This is a council of war, not a peace negotiation. We must hit back now. We must send a raiding party to mete out punishment.’
‘How and where?’ asked Malbank.
‘Stop trying to hinder me, William.’
‘I am merely trying to help. Every knight I can muster will be at your disposal and I will be proud to ride at your side. But I would prefer to know against whom we launch our might.’ He looked around the table again and saw that his argument was prevailing. ‘Battles are won by a combination of power and strategy. At the moment, we have one without the other. I appeal to you, all. Shall we dissipate our power because we have no strategy? Shall we shoot our own arrows without taking careful aim?’
‘Revenge is our strategy,’ affirmed Hugh.
‘Then let us prepare the way for that revenge.’
There was murmured discussion around the table as the barons compared notes with their immediate neighbours. Hamo of Mascy was the first to speak.
‘I support William on this,’ he said.
‘So do I,’ said Reginald Balliol.
‘And I,’ added Bigot of Loges, won over by persuasion.
‘Send intelligencers into Wales,’ said Malbank. ‘Let them search for the truth behind this foul murder. And dispatch an urgent messenger to Rhuddlan Castle. If there is indeed trouble stirring, your nephew Robert of Rhuddlan will be the first to detect it.’
The notion met with general approval and even Earl Hugh recognised the wisdom of it. For once, he elected not to force his own decision upon the others.
‘A messenger will ride for Rhuddlan at dawn,’ he said.
‘Thank you, my lord. That contents me.’
The council of war broke up and the barons dispersed. William Malbank was left alone with the earl. He felt intimidated and gave an apologetic shrug.
‘I had to speak out, my lord,’ he said deferentially. ‘You must accept that. Careful preparation now may save a lot of unnecessary bloodshed later.’
‘I agree.’
‘Then you are not angry with me?’
‘No, William. I am deeply grateful to you.’
‘For delaying a possible attack on the Welsh?’
‘No,’ said Hugh with a lewd grin. ‘For providing me with such delicious compensation. Raoul was not the only loss I sustained in the forest. My hawk was also killed. But not before he had won my wager.’ His grin broadened.’ Send your mistress to me tonight, William. I have need of her.’
Rhuddlan Castle was a symbol of Norman domination in North Wales, a timbered fortress built on a rock outcrop to command a view across the whole valley. Protecting the road between Chester and the Welsh coast, it was a daunting reminder to the indigenous population that they were occupied by invaders. Its castellan,Robert of Rhuddlan, was an experienced soldier who was constantly working to improve his defences. Nothing was left to chance. The area might be quiescent at the moment but Robert knew how quickly the Welsh could ignite. Whatever else happened, he resolved that he and his garrison would not be caught off guard.
The banging on his door awakened him at first light.
‘Yes?’ he called.
‘The captain of the guard has sent for you, my lord.’
‘What is amiss?’
‘He asks that you come at once.’
‘Why?’
‘He said that it was urgent.’
Robert did not need to be told twice. Leaping out of bed, he grabbed his gown and wrapped himself in it before slipping back the bolt and opening the door. Only an emergency would justify disturbing his sleep. He wondered what it might be. Within a matter of seconds, he was stepping out bare-footed on to the western battlements. The captain of the guard was waiting for him with a cluster of his men.
‘What is the problem?’ asked Robert.
‘See for yourself, my lord.’
‘Where?’
‘Down there,’ said the other, p
ointing.
Robert of Rhuddlan looked out across the valley. Half a mile away, stretched out in a single line, were a hundred or more mounted warriors in full armour. It was a menacing sight. They seemed to be studying the castle with great interest, as if searching for any weak points. They were too far away to be identified but their general purpose was clear. They were an advance party of a Welsh army. After a few minutes, they swung their horses round and rode swiftly away.
One thing was obvious. They were massing for attack. When they came again, there would be far more of them.
Robert of Rhuddlan’s orders were curt and peremptory.
‘Double the guard!’ he snapped. ‘And rouse the rest of the garrison!’
Chapter Nine
The arrival of his wife invigorated Ralph Delchard in every way. Not only was he up early on the following morning with love in his heart and energy in his limbs, he felt that his mind had been stimulated as well. Gone was the mood of creeping sadness which always gripped him whenever he and Golde were apart and hampered his relationship with his colleagues. Ralph was now liberated. He could think clearly for the first time since he had come to Chester.
When he encountered Earl Hugh in the courtyard, Ralph beamed happily. His greeting was excessively cordial.
‘You seem to be in good spirits,’ observed Hugh.
‘I am, my lord. My wife arrived last evening.’
‘So I understand, and she is most welcome. I am sorry that she joins us at a time when we are distracted by events in the Forest of Delamere. No matter,’ he said with a confiding grin, ‘I can see that she warmed your bed for you. I, too, had a lively night. There is nothing quite like a woman to provide solace in times of trouble.’
‘Nothing quite like a loving wife,’ corrected Ralph.
‘I will settle for a woman. Any woman.’
‘We must agree to differ.’
‘You would change your mind if you enjoyed the bounty that fell to me last night,’ said Hugh. ‘A fine, fiery wench in every way. Malbank’s loss was my gain.’
His meaning was clear. Not wishing to hear any more about his amorous adventures away from the marital couch, Ralph changed the topic of conversation at once.
‘I have been thinking about the death of Raoul Lambert.’
Hugh scowled. ‘It was a cowardly murder!’
‘Yet obviously planned, my lord.’
‘In what way?’
‘If you were the chosen target – and for the time being let us assume that you were – then you had to be attacked at a vulnerable moment. The forest was the ideal place. You would be among friends and completely off guard. An assassin would never have such a good opportunity here in the city.’
‘What do you conclude?’
‘We must look for someone familiar with your movements.’
‘I could have been watched.’
‘But there is no pattern to your hunting,’ said Ralph. ‘You ride out when the mood seizes you and choose what game appeals to you on any particular day. The forest is vast. You traverse different parts of it every time you venture out.’
‘So?’
Ralph was blunt. ‘You have a traitor in your ranks.’
‘Out of the question.’
‘Not the assassin himself, perhaps, but his confederate.’
‘The night with your wife has befuddled your brain.’
‘Think it through, my lord,’ recommended the other. ‘A hunting party leaves the castle early in the morning. Will an assassin be lurking in the city in order to follow you? It seems unlikely. He would surely be seen on your trail. It would be much easier for him to conceal himself in that part of the forest which you had decided to hunt in.’
‘Go on.’
‘Then he could bide his time until opportunity arose.’
‘You have shifted your ground, Ralph,’ said Hugh with a curl of his lip. ‘Yesterday, you were telling me that a member of my own hunting party actually shot the arrow at me.’
‘That is still a possibility.’
‘Only in the realms of fancy.’
‘The assassin needed help,’ said Ralph doggedly. ‘If he was not a member of your entourage, then he must have been forewarned by a co-conspirator.’
‘Stop chasing moonbeams.’
‘Hear me out, my lord.’
‘I do not need to,’ said Hugh dismissively. ‘Your theory has a fatal flaw in it, Ralph.’
‘What is that?’
‘Nobody in my entourage knew our destination until we breakfasted on the morning itself.’
‘Then listen to my final guess,’ suggested Ralph. ‘And remember, I am a detached observer. I view the situation dispassionately from the outside. No personal loyalties blur my vision. I realise that you do not enjoy that advantage.’
Hugh was sceptical. ‘And what is this final guess?’
‘It will offend you, my lord.’
‘Tell me all the same.’
‘It concerns Raoul Lambert.’
‘Go on.’
Ralph waited until a detachment of soldiers marched past on their way to relieve the guard. Under the earl’s cynical gaze, he took a deep breath before developing his argument.
‘My feeling is this,’ he began. ‘Raoul Lambert was, I suspect, the designated victim, after all. Let me finish, my lord,’ he pleaded as his companion mouthed a protest. ‘We both have archers at our command. We know how long and how painstakingly they will practise. Accuracy is a matter of honour to them.’
‘So?’
‘They rarely miss a target from short range.’
‘The Welsh archer contrived to miss me.’
‘No, my lord,’ said Ralph, ‘his aim was good. An arrow which misses one person will rarely kill another with such precision. It is far more likely to wound him. Yet you say that your huntsman was virtually killed outright.’
‘That is so.’
‘Then grapple with this notion,’ advised Ralph. ‘Raoul Lambert was not merely the chosen target in the forest. He was also the man who betrayed your movements to the assassin.’
‘Then why was he killed?’
‘As a stark warning to you.’
‘The assassin murdered his own confederate?’
‘He removed someone who had already served his purpose.’
‘Raoul?’ spluttered Earl Hugh. ‘He was no traitor. It is an insane suggestion. You never even met the man.’
‘Not face to face, my lord, I grant you. But I know him from the documents we brought with us. He appears a great deal in those. Gervase made his acquaintance that way and so did Canon Hubert. Between the three of us, we know your huntsman far better than you think.’
‘He would never be in league with a Welsh assassin.’
‘Even though his holdings intruded into Wales?’
‘He hated the Welsh.’
‘That would not stop him taking their money,’ said Ralph. ‘We both fought at Hastings, my lord. Remember how many of those French and Breton and Flemish mercenaries of ours must have hated Duke William. Yet they fought under his banner.’
‘Raoul was my close friend!’
‘Then he was in the ideal position to betray you.’
‘Never! The idea is ridiculous!’
But Ralph could see that he had planted a tiny seed of doubt in the other’s mind. It was enough. He backed off.
‘Excuse my ravings, my lord.’
‘That is what they are.’
‘Put them down to the excitement of seeing Golde again.’
‘She must be a remarkable woman.’
‘She is.’
‘I long to meet this paragon. Well,’ he said, anxious to end a conversation which had left him jangled, ‘you have work awaiting you at the shire hall. I will let you go to it.’
‘One moment, my lord.’
‘No more lunatic suggestions – please!’
‘This is a request from an archdeacon.’
‘Frodo?’
‘Idwal,
Archdeacon of St David’s.’
Earl Hugh tensed. ‘A Welsh churchman?’
‘In every sense, my lord. He came in search of you last evening but you were not available to consider his appeal.’
‘What appeal?’
‘An hour with Gruffydd ap Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd.’
‘He will not have the tenth part of a second with him!’ roared Hugh with fists bunched. ‘Nobody is allowed near my prisoner, especially Welsh spies in clerical garments. If this Idwal wishes to visit my dungeons, I will find him one of his own in which to preach. His appeal is denied outright.’
‘I warned him that it would be.’
‘The Welsh are our enemies.’
‘Yet they have learned to live in submission.’
‘They tried to kill me.’
‘That is still open to dispute.’
‘They did, Ralph!’ yelled the other. ‘I will not have anyone say otherwise.’
‘Then I withdraw my foolish suggestions.’
Hugh was adamant. ‘I was the victim of an assassination attempt. That demands a forceful reply from me.’
‘What action are you taking, my lord?’
‘I am marshalling my forces in readiness,’ said the other. ‘If they wish to fight, they will have a battle they will never forget. A messenger left for Rhuddlan Castle at the crack of dawn. My nephew needs to know what has been happening here and I am anxious for his news about any early signs of revolt.’
‘Do you really believe that the Welsh will attack?’
‘I am certain of it, Ralph.’
‘Even though you hold their prince here?’
‘They may have found another leader.’
‘It seems improbable, my lord.’
‘I know these people,’ insisted Hugh. ‘I have lived side by side with them for years. I sense their moods. Warfare is imminent,believe me. The attempt on my life was but the first signal of hostilities to come.’
‘Is that the message you sent to Rhuddlan?’
‘Yes, Ralph. I warned them to beware.’
The messenger had chosen the swiftest horse in the stables and ridden him out of the city at a canter. It was a long way to Rhuddlan and his mount had to be paced carefully. There might be times when he would need to coax extra speed out of him or ride hell-for-leather to escape from outlaws. He had spurned an escort. One man alone, he assured his master, would move faster and attract less attention.
The Hawks of Delamere (Domesday Series Book 7) Page 11
