“Milady Comtesse,” the Steward said hurriedly to Mabelle, who had been waiting for Baudoin and Caedmon to return with any news. “This friar claims to have a message from our dear lady, the Comte’s wife.”
Mabelle rose quickly from her chair. “Speak, Brother,” she commanded excitedly. “What news?”
The monk hesitated, scratching his chin. “Madame, it’s taken me many days to wander here to your castle. These are not easy times for a pilgrim alone on the road. Perhaps ale, before I begin my message?”
Baudoin glowered at him. “You’ll have ale aplenty, good friar, but first you’ll deliver your message.”
The monk shrank back, licking his lips. “As you wish, milord. It’s from a woman at the Abbaye aux Dames in the Bourg l’Abbesse in Caen who claims to be the Comtesse de Montbryce. She’s given birth to a son.”
Mabelle swayed. Baudoin rushed to her aid. She grasped his hand. “Baudoin, it’s our Dorianne. A child. A grandson. An heir. We must get her home. See to this kind friar.”
Caedmon turned to the monk. “I thank you for your message. The kitchen will see to your needs of food and ale, and Bonhomme will find you a chamber for the night. The news you bring is welcome indeed.”
~~~
“We’re clear on the plan, I assume?” Baudoin asked the group assembled in the Map Room of Montbryce Castle. “We can’t go into the environs of the Abbaye with a large group of armed men. That would alert Curthose. We’ll ride to the outskirts of the town and then Caedmon and I will take the donkey and walk the rest of the way dressed as monks. We’ll bring Dorianne and the child back on the donkey and rejoin the main group for the ride back. Are there any other suggestions or ideas?”
The plan was risky. “Sometimes, the simplest plan is the best,” Caedmon observed.
Baudoin agreed. “They won’t be expecting intruders to the Abbaye. It’s the castle which will be heavily guarded.”
~~~
The elderly nun charged with the gates of the Abbaye responded to the persistent ringing of the bell. Her eyes widened considerably at the sight of two monks, drenched to the skin. Baudoin forced a smile, despite the chill in his bones and the rain dripping from his hood. “We seek shelter, ma soeur, for ourselves and our donkey.”
The nun opened the creaky gate and ushered them inside.
Baudoin would do the talking. Caedmon’s accented Norman French might make people wary. “We would beg an audience with the Abbesse, ma soeur. We’re here to see the Comtesse de Montbryce and her child.”
The woman scurried off without a word and came back a few minutes later with the Abbesse, who eyed them critically. “I assume you’re not monks?” she said derisively.
Baudoin and Caedmon went down on one knee and each in turn kissed the Abbesse’s hand. Baudoin reassured her. “Non, ma mère, but we are good men who revere God and who seek only to protect and rescue our sister-by-marriage and nephew from a cruel injustice. I am Baudoin, Earl of Ellesmere, son of Comte Rambaud de Montbryce who fought alongside the Conqueror at Hastings, and this is my brother Sir Caedmon FitzRam.”
“You’re welcome, sirs,” the Abbesse replied, softening. “Men who revere God are difficult to find these days. Come, I’ll take you to the Comtesse.”
“On behalf of my family I thank you for the care you’ve taken of her and her child.”
The Abbesse bowed in acknowledgement. “Perhaps a small donation as a token of your family’s gratitude?”
Caedmon arched his brows and smiled a crooked smile. As they followed the nun, Baudoin asked him about it.
Caedmon smiled again. “Reminds me of how I convinced the Abbey in Alnwick to give up Agneta. Every religious establishment has a constant need of money.”
“Ah, oui, I forgot you told us that.”
When Baudoin walked into her small cell, Dorianne jumped up and he suspected she thought he was Robert.
“Dorianne,” he exclaimed, embracing her as she trembled. “Dear sister, we’ve come to take you home. Where is the child?”
Caedmon embraced her and she led the two men to the corner where a tiny boy slept. “He takes after Robert,” she croaked as the tears trickled down her cheeks. “Is there news of him?”
Caedmon shook his head. “No, but we surmise he’s in the castle here in Caen.”
She told them how she came to be at the Abbaye and why she stayed there to bear her child. “I have felt his presence close by.”
Baudoin passed her a blanket and an oilskin. “Wrap the child. We plan to take you back to Saint Germain. Madame l’Abbesse, can we trouble you to give our sister a habit? In these dangerous times we must travel incognito.”
Dorianne interrupted. “I still have the habit they made me wear when they captured me.”
Caedmon’s eyes widened. “They made you wear a habit?”
She swallowed hard. “Oui, they forced Robert to wear a penitent’s robe. It was my brother,” she gasped with sorrow. “But he did it for Curthose.”
“We’re of the same mind, Dorianne,” Baudoin answered. “Quickly now, we’ve a long way to go before nightfall. Our men await us not fair off to aid our escape from Curthose’s lands.”
Dorianne slipped the habit over the surcoat the nuns had given her, and the Abbesse brought a wimple. She gathered up her child and swaddled him then kissed the Abbesse’s hand. “Ma mère, how can I thank you?”
“Go with God, milady Comtesse,” the Abbesse replied. “I’ll continue to pray for the safe return of your husband.”
Baudoin helped her mount the donkey and she clasped her son to her breast. They made their way slowly in the rain to the wood where the men-at-arms lay hidden. Tears flowed unbidden when she caught sight of the ramparts of Caen castle in the distance in the Bourg le Roi. “Robert is there,” she whispered. “I’m sure of it.”
“Aye! Keep faith, Dorianne,” Caedmon said. “King Henry plans to seize Caen when he invades Normandie to oust Curthose. We’ll save him.”
There was nothing else they could do but wait for Henry’s help. They did not have the forces necessary to launch an attack on the fortress at Caen. But she worried what effect his long confinement would have on her proud husband.
They rendezvoused with the larger group and made the long journey back to Montbryce safely. Mabelle came out to the courtyard to greet them and to take the child.
“He’s a beautiful boy, Dorianne. Welcome home, daughter. You’re safe now. Saint Germain is a fortress since your abduction. Hasten the day when we can be free of the dangers threatening us now. Your girls are anxious to see you.”
Tears trickled down Dorianne’s cheeks and she had to blow her nose. “I’ve missed them terribly.”
Turning to Baudoin, Mabelle asked, “What news of Robert?”
“Nothing, maman, but we’re convinced he’s in Caen. Caedmon and I will stay here with you. Ellesmere is in good hands and there’s no threat to it. We’ll await Henry’s command.”
Dorianne hastened off to the nursery to reunite with her daughters.
PASSION IN THE BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Not long thereafter, King Henry extricated himself from the domestic political problems besetting him in England and arrived in Normandie with an invading army. Caedmon and Baudoin joined him.
“This war won’t end peacefully until my brother is captured and I’ve won a complete victory,” Henry told them. “I will win. I’ve put my trust in money.”
Baudoin and Caedmon had indeed seen the great barrels and carts full of coin.
The King smiled. “Money makes it possible to fight with more men. It will allow me to make promises to Comtes and barons. The more I promise, the more likely they are to abandon my brother. Even those who hold lands from the duke and owe him fealty have already left him in my favor, abandoning their true lord.”
Baudoin grimaced. “Majesté, suddenly Normandie is a land full of fear. We’ve heard of people burying everything in cemeteries, leaving nothing in their houses
for robbers and thieves.”
The King shook his head sadly. “It’s a result of my brother’s greed. I’ve summoned men from Le Mans and Anjou and Bretagne, and they have come willingly at the prospect of gain. All know the rewards to be had. My brother has no money left. He’s spent it freely. He’s had his castles rebuilt, walls repaired and strengthened, battlements constructed and trenches made in front of castles. At Caen he built a trench stretching from Rue d'Esmeisine to Porte Milet. But do you know what he does when he runs out of money to pay his mercenaries?”
Baudoin and Caedmon both shook their heads, though they had heard rumors.
Henry smirked. “He hands over his burgesses to the mercenaries, who then ransom them back to their families. This is a man who pretends to be a king! Many of his own burgesses now hate him.”
~~~
The war commenced. Curthose sought to make alliances with the King of France and other factions, but Henry had bought them off.
The cathedral town of Bayeux fell to Henry. Baudoin sent an account of events to Dorianne and his mother.
Maman, Dorianne,
We are well, as I trust you are.
The inhabitants of Bayeux defended themselves bravely, not wanting to surrender to the king and he couldn’t take them by force. Gonthier, their constable, rode throughout the region, bringing prisoners and booty which greatly assisted the town. King Henry was very displeased that Bayeux’s resistance threatened the advance on Caen.
The king and some of his knights, including Caedmon and myself, assembled and went to Bayeux together, where we set light to the town. Flames leapt high, chapels and churches burning, houses and food-stores toppling. The church was entirely destroyed and its precious possessions taken outside.
Henry took the city and laid waste to the area as far as Caen. Curthose hasn’t been able to recover anything or return to Bayeux. No one can remain between Bayeux and Caen. The peasants are too afraid to till the land, join their oxen together or plough the fields and the merchants do not dare go about the town or transport their merchandise.
On to Caen! We will find our brother.
Baudoin.
Caedmon and Baudoin took advantage of the confusion in the aftermath of Bayeux to work with another knight, Robert FitzHaimo, to capture influential citizens of Caen. They met with the King at Yvrandes, in a hermitage surrounded by a great wood called the Lande Pourrie. They told him their plan.
The king was pleased. “It’s a good plan. These prisoners you’ve brought are powerful men, born in Caen. We can have the town through them.”
Baudoin folded his arms across his chest. “Oui, they’ve agreed that if you release them and make it worth their while, they’ll hand over Caen. But it must remain secret.”
The King turned to FitzHaimo. “Can we trust them?”
The knight chuckled. “To make sure, we’ve insisted they provide their sons and nephews as hostages. They’ll pretend to obtain what’s necessary and pay their ransoms.”
This plan was successful and Caen surrendered to the King, without much bloodshed. Henry’s men flooded into the town.
Baudoin and Caedmon made immediately for the cells below the castle. They searched by torchlight, rags over their mouths. Baudoin’s eyes watered. “How can he have survived this stench?”
Caedmon shook his head and continued the frantic search. Cell after cell revealed broken, confused men, terrified by the torches thrust into their dark existence. But nowhere could they find Robert.
~~~
Unaware of events in the world above him, Robert was wrenched from his cell and dragged along the darkened corridor. It was the first time in months he had been outside the black hole. He did not recognise the men, but they bore the Curthose device on their tunics. The mute giant was not one of them.
His hands were tied to something. His heart beat faster. Was this to be the end then? Was this his execution? Death would be welcome. He heard the sound of the lash before he felt it tear into his flesh. His ravaged body recoiled, but he did not have the energy to cry out. He did not bother to count the strokes as they bit into his skin. He would be dead before they stopped.
Then, he was back in his cell, his mangled back on fire. He remembered his indignation when he had first learned Dorianne had been whipped. He heard loud voices above. It disoriented him. Did he hear his name? Was the angelic host calling him to heaven? Searing pain overwhelmed him. He blinked hard, trying to hold on to his wits. The voices receded, leaving, leaving him to the black meaningless existence he had endured for too long. He would die alone in this awful place.
“Dorianne,” he murmured with his last breath.
PASSION IN THE BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Baudoin and Caedmon were devastated not to find their brother. They were on the point of leaving the prisons, their hearts heavy, when Baudoin stopped. “Listen,” he rasped to Caedmon.
Caedmon cocked his head. “What is it?” He waited, frowning. “All I hear is a cat’s mewling cry.”
“He’s here,” Baudoin replied turning back. “I feel him. I feel my brother’s presence. There must be more cells somewhere.”
They turned back, creeping carefully along narrow dark corridors. After many long minutes Baudoin heard Caedmon shout, “Here! A stairway.”
They descended the steep slippery steps, their torches held high to illuminate the narrow walls. The meagre light fell onto an oubliette. They peered inside.
“There’s a man in there,” Caedmon cried.
Baudoin strained to see, his eyes watering. A wretched man lay on a bed of straw. “He’s dead, I think.”
Caedmon smashed the crude lock with his sword and they entered. The mangled creature prostrate before them did not move. A cat scurried by and was swallowed up by the blackness. Then they heard a faint whisper. “Dorianne.”
Bile rose in Baudoin’s throat, his heart thudded in his ears. “By the saints, it’s Robert! Hold the light here.”
His fury intensified when he saw Robert’s bloody back. “He’s been flogged—and recently. A parting gift! Call for more help.”
Robert groped the straw. “Espérance?”
Tears streamed down Baudoin’s face. He grasped his brother’s hands firmly. “Oui, you have hope now, Robert.”
With Caedmon’s help, he lifted Robert over his shoulder. The Montbryce men-at-arms came at the call and they and Caedmon helped guide Baudoin up the steps to the courtyard. Robert cried out when the light assailed his eyes. Baudoin quickly tore a strip from the crude shirt and tied it over Robert’s eyes.
“Robert,” Baudoin strained. “It’s Baudoin. You’re safe now. Caedmon is here. We’re here for you.”
“Dorianne?” Robert rasped.
Baudoin wiped away tears. He could barely speak. “She’s safe, my brother. You have a son.”
“A son? I have a son. But where is Espérance? Don’t leave her behind.”
Caedmon and Baudoin looked at each other and shook their heads.
“He’s delirious,” Caedmon said.
Robert fainted.
The men-at-arms carried their broken lord on a litter to the Abbeye aux Hommes where the monks shaved the lice ridden hair from his face and body. They bathed his lacerations and applied salve, washed him and tended the sores on his body, then rebandaged his eyes against the light. He remained in a stupor as they ministered to him.
“How bad is it?” Caedmon asked as Baudoin emerged from the infirmary.
“It’s bad,” Baudoin replied angrily. “He’s been beaten, starved, humiliated, deprived of light. It will be a long road back to good health. He’s emaciated. I can barely recognize him. It’s hard to believe a Norman nobleman would treat another this way. So much for a code of honor.”
Caedmon put his arm around Baudoin’s shoulders. “Dorianne will help nurse him back to health.”
Baudoin shook his head. “I doubt if she’ll want to touch him the way he looks.”
“Never underes
timate the power of a woman’s love,” Caedmon replied.
Baudoin was lost in his thoughts for a long while as they stood in the silent cloister of the Abbey. “I’ve sent messengers to Saint Germain. But I doubt he’ll be able to travel for a few days.”
A monk appeared with news Robert had awakened. They entered the infirmary. Robert lay on his side on a palette. Baudoin choked back tears as he clasped his brother’s hand. “Robert…Robert…we thought you were lost.”
Robert coughed. “Baudoin? Where…am I? It’s been…so…long…since I talked…with anyone…I—”
“Don’t worry about talking, Robert,” said Caedmon. “We’re relieved to have found you.”
“Caedmon? You’re—both here?” Robert had difficulty making his voice work. “Take me home—I want to go home—to Montbryce—I want to die there—not here.”
“You’re not going to die, Robert,” his brother retorted. “We’ve gone to too much trouble to save you. Dorianne would never forgive us.”
“She will—not want me now—I’m not the man—she married,” Robert whispered.
“You’re doing what I did, Robert,” Caedmon said. “I was afraid Agneta would never speak to me again when I returned from the Crusade, and yet she welcomed me back with open arms.”
“But Caedmon—you didn’t look like this,” Robert said sadly, running a gaunt hand over the ribs protruding from his once broad chest. He coughed deeply. “I don’t want her to see me. She will—want to flee.”
Baudoin snorted. “I won’t be the one to try to keep her away from you when we return home.”
“Nor I,” Caedmon added. “King Henry plans to leave Normandie tomorrow. He’s been called back to England to deal with the Investiture problem, but he’ll return as soon as he’s able.”
Baudoin wanted to hearten his brother. “Curthose has avoided capture this time, and Henry won’t stop the fight until he has his brother soundly defeated. He’ll leave Caen and Bayeux garrisoned until his return. If possible we should leave with him on the morrow to take advantage of the escort to Montbryce. Will you be able to travel, Robert?”
Box Set - Knights of Passion (7 Novels) Page 44
