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The Silken Cord

Page 20

by Leigh Bale


  Shaking her head, she considered her words carefully. “Wulfgar has fought more for life than death. I believe, if he’s restored to Cynan, peace will return to our border. If Lord Carlinham rules here, there will always be war.”

  The king tilted his head in acknowledgement.

  Casting caution aside, she continued. “Lord Carlinham is a vile man with evil ambitions. He’s used trickery and deception and has broken every treaty he’s ever made with my people. He even confessed to me that he strangled his wife before throwing her down a flight of stairs.”

  A gasp swept the room. Edwin’s face drained of color and he jumped to his feet, blustering with fury. “She lies, sire.”

  The king held up a silencing hand.

  “But, sire!”

  The king’s hand did not lower and Edwin wisely sank back into his seat, staring at Ariana with naked hate. She inwardly shuddered to think what he might do to her if he had her in his power. She prayed silently that God never let that day come.

  Anger darkened William’s ruddy cheeks and his brows lowered in an ominous glare. “Princess, do you realize what you accuse Lord Carlinham of?”

  She lifted her chin. “I speak the truth. His own son heard him make the claim.”

  The king’s gaze swept the hall until he found Markus sitting at one of the far tables by the outside door, his eyes wide.

  Heads turned in that direction and the boy squirmed beneath so many stares.

  “Markus,” the king called. “Come here, boy.”

  Slowly, Markus stood and stepped over the wooden bench he’d been sitting on. His gaze swept his father, whose face beamed red with fury. Markus’s eyes widened and he glanced at Ariana, then the king. Walking as slow as honey rolling downhill in the dead of winter, he came to stand before William. The boy stared at the rushes on the floor and prodded a discarded chicken bone with the tip of his leather shoe.

  “Did you hear what your father was accused of?” the king asked.

  Markus nodded.

  “And is it true? Did you hear your father claim that he’d murdered your mother?”

  The boy glanced at Edwin, whose expression was dark and foreboding. Fear covered Markus’s face.

  “Look at me, boy,” the king demanded.

  Markus met William’s gaze. “I d…don’t want t…to….”

  “Just nod your head yes or no,” the king said.

  Markus hesitated, then nodded.

  “Sire!” Edwin stabbed a finger toward the boy. “My son was very upset when his mother died. Now he blames me for her death. Surely you won’t listen to the imaginations of a half-wit.”

  William’s disapproving gaze rested on Edwin. “Be quiet, Carlinham. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

  Wulfgar shifted his feet and the chains binding his hands jingled. As Ariana looked at him, his eyes darkened, their depths filled with angry emotion, as if he longed to pound Edwin to a pulp.

  At that moment, a messenger came into the hall and walked briskly to the head table. Going down on one knee before the king, he bowed his head.

  “Sire.”

  “What is it?” William growled with impatience.

  Rising, the man stepped to William’s side and leaned near to whisper in the king’s ear.

  William waved an imperious hand. “Good. Yes, of course. Bring him in.”

  The messenger walked out of the hall and returned momentarily. Vachel followed behind, accompanied by two men-at-arms.

  Wulfgar’s steward could barely walk. Aided by the two guards, he approached the dais on wobbly legs. Vachel had bathed and dressed in clean clothing. His gray hair was damp and slicked back, his beard trimmed, the wounds on his face and arms smoothed with shiny ointment.

  It nearly broke Ariana’s heart to see Wulfgar’s loyal servant in such a bad way. Hopefully he’d been freed from the dungeon in time to save his life. With time, he might recover his strength.

  When he reached the king, Vachel went down on his knees and bowed his head.

  “Arise, Vachel,” the king said, his eyes softened with kindness.

  Vachel was too weak to stand on his own. The men-at-arms lifted his frail body and he stood on trembling legs.

  “Let him sit,” the king ordered gruffly.

  A wooden chair was provided. Once Vachel was seated, the king peered at him. “Vachel Durand, it’s been a long time since last we met.”

  “Aye, sire.” Vachel’s voice quavered. “Much sadness has befallen us since that time.”

  “You were locked in the dungeon by Lord Carlinham. What is your crime?”

  Edwin slapped his hand on the tabletop and half-rose from his seat. “Sire, this man is a thief and supporter of Wulfgar de Conteville. He refused to swear fealty to me. I caught him conspiring against me with the townsfolk. Later, he was found stealing bread from the kitchen. Surely you won’t listen to the ranting of a crazed old man.”

  William held up a hand, his gaze showing irritation. “If you speak out of turn again, I’ll have you thrown into the dungeon. Now, sit down and shut up.”

  Shifting restlessly, Edwin threw an ugly look at Vachel. Wulfgar locked his jaw, his brows lowered with suppressed wrath. He stared at Edwin as though he’d like to strangle the man for what he’d done to Vachel.

  “The bread I took was for the poor, sire,” Vachel’s voice rasped. “While Lord Wulfgar ruled here, he offered bread freely to the widows and orphans. No one went hungry at Cynan as long as Lord Wulfgar had grain and meat to feed them. But Lord Carlinham let them starve.”

  Sitting back in his tall chair, William rested his scarred hands along the armrests, pondering Vachel’s words. “That explains the bread. But why wouldn’t you swear fealty to Lord Carlinham after he became Lord of Glyndwr?”

  Vachel coughed, a dry hacking sound. “I’ve always been faithful to my king.”

  William nodded. “Of course."

  “I’ve also been faithful to Lord Wulfgar.”

  William frowned. “I fear he’s unworthy of your loyalty.”

  “He’s always been faithful to you, sire.”

  Sitting forward, William’s expression darkened. “His faithfulness was condemned by the testimony of another.”

  Vachel shook his head, his gray eyes filled with sincerity. “I mean no disrespect, sire, but Lord Huntingdon lied.”

  “How do you know that?” William demanded.

  Lifting a scrawny arm, Vachel pointed at Edwin. “Last spring, this man imprisoned me in Cynan’s dungeon. He took great pleasure in torturing me. He told me he’d gone to Alnwick to meet with Lord Huntingdon and Malcolm Caennmor, the Scottish king. Edwin agreed to lend his forces to the Scots to come against you.”

  Edwin’s face drained of color.

  The king took a deep breath. “This is the first I’ve heard this tale. Waltheof of Huntingdon testified it was Wulfgar who conspired with him and the Scottish king, not Edwin. Why would Huntingdon lie?”

  A weak smile curved Vachel’s thin lips. “It’s simple, my lord. Edwin of Carlinham was wed to Waltheof’s sister, Lady Sybil. Huntingdon lied to protect her from Carlinham’s cruel temper.”

  The king’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t heard that Lady Sybil is dead? An unfortunate fall down a flight of stairs.”

  Vachel’s mouth dropped open and his gaze swept over Edwin. “Nay, I hadn’t heard. But it seems a most convenient death, if you ask me.”

  Ariana watched Markus lift his head, his gaze resting on the king. In the boy’s eyes, she saw deep, wrenching sorrow. His mouth worked, as if he wished to speak, his brows furrowed with the effort.

  The king faced Markus and his eyes crinkled with thought. He beckoned to the boy. “Markus, come closer, my boy.”

  Markus hesitated.

  “Do not fear me. Come, stand here.” The king pointed at a spot directly on the other side of the table.

  A guard went to retrieve the boy and William waved the man away. “Let him come to me on his own.”

 
; Markus visibly trembled as he walked to stand just before the king. Once, the boy’s gaze darted over to his father, who gave a sharp shake of his head. Markus blinked and looked back at the king.

  Edwin’s gesture didn’t escape William’s keen gaze. “No one will harm you, boy. Not even your father. You must speak honestly to every question I ask you. Is that understood?”

  Markus nodded and a lock of dark hair fell over his brow.

  “Do you have knowledge of your mother’s death?”

  The color drained from Markus’s face and his mouth rounded as he tried to form the words. Instead, he nodded his head.

  “My lord, this is ridiculous,” Edwin choked. “You can see my son is frightened near to death. He’s a half-wit and can barely speak.”

  William clenched his jaw, his voice like rolling thunder. “Lord Carlinham, did I not make it clear that I’d have you gagged and clapped in irons if you made one more outburst?”

  “Aye, sire. My apologies.” Edwin shrank back into his seat.

  The king leaned forward, resting an elbow on the cloth-covered table. He smiled at Markus and spoke in a calm voice. “I know it might be difficult for you, son, but you must speak the truth. A man’s life depends on what you say. Do you understand the importance of the truth?”

  Markus nodded and stood straighter. “Sometimes, to be a man, y…you have to conquer y…your greatest fears.”

  Ariana tilted her head. He’d repeated exactly what she’d said to him earlier. Her words must have pierced the boy’s heart.

  “That’s right,” the king agreed. “So, tell me what you know.”

  “I was there, sire. At Alnwick. Mother was there, too. We h…heard them speaking.”

  “Who?” the king urged.

  “My father and L…Lord Huntingdon. They met with a big man with red hair and a vile temper.” As the boy spoke, the stutter seemed to disappear.

  “Malcolm Caennmore.” William breathed the Scottish king’s name with disgust.

  Markus nodded.

  Ariana’s hands tightened. Edwin’s breathing increased and she glanced at him. His nostrils flared, like a charging bull.

  “Did you hear what they were speaking about?” the king asked gently.

  Markus hung his head, staring at his hands as he twined them together. “Lord Waltheof said you should be sent into exile after they took your stronghold at Winchester. He didn’t want you killed, but Father said…he said he’d see your head upon the executioner’s block and then put your head on a pike and let the crows pick out your eyeballs.”

  Edwin snorted. “Absurd!”

  A guard stepped to Edwin’s side, his hand on his sword. The gesture silenced Edwin.

  “And what about your mother?” the king asked.

  A lone tear rolled down Markus’s cheek. Ariana’s heart went out to him. Turning, she glanced at Wulfgar, who also watched the boy, his eyes filled with such hope that Ariana could hardly breathe.

  “Mother told me we must leave with haste, to go to you at Winchester. S…she said she had to stop father, before our family was destroyed. She wanted to warn you.”

  The boy’s voice grew stronger with each word.

  “That night, I was in my bed when I heard mother scream. I went to her room and saw father with his hands around her neck. Her eyes bulged and her face turned blue. I hid and father carried her to the head of the stairs and threw her down.”

  A gasp filled the hall. Markus sniffed and wiped his eyes.

  Ariana watched William’s face grow hard. Would he believe the boy?

  Everyone turned to look at Edwin, who sat still as stone, his face pale as buttermilk.

  “My lord,” he said. “I would never murder my own wife. How could I have been part of the traitor’s conspiracy? I had no wealth and no army to come against you.”

  “But you had ambition,” William replied. “Once I made you Earl of Glyndwr, you had Wulfgar’s vast army and wealth at your disposal. But his men deserted you and traveled to the slave auction to bring Wulfgar back. One of my spies has reported to me that you’ve met with Malcolm Caennmore often since Wulfgar’s conviction. Why do you think I sold Wulfgar into slavery instead of beheading him?”

  The king leaned back in his chair, watching Edwin like a poisonous snake. He didn’t wait for Edwin to speak, but answered for him. “I’ve always suspected that Wulfgar was innocent of treason, but I wanted to find out the truth. I needed time. With Wulfgar sold as a slave instead of being executed, I could wait and discover if he was innocent or not.”

  A hum of whispers filled the great hall. Several knights came to their feet, glaring at Edwin, their faces dark with outrage. Edwin’s eyes widened and he shrank beneath William’s penetrating stare.

  “Then, am I to be convicted of these crimes?” Edwin wailed. “Will I not be allowed to defend myself?”

  William’s lips thinned. “I remember another time when I listened to what you had to say and I passed judgment on an innocent man. Because of your lies, I took all Wulfgar had and gave it to you.”

  Staring wide-eyed with fear, Edwin lifted his hands in supplication. “I am innocent, sire.”

  “Your own son witnessed you murdering your wife before she could warn me of your evil plans. I have no doubt you tried to ruin Wulfgar and use his army against me.”

  Ariana’s heart beat madly in her chest. Edwin was the traitor. She knew he had always sought power, but to conspire against his own king had been beyond her imagination.

  Wulfgar took a step forward, the chains on his hands jingling, his eyes menacing. “It’s over, Carlinham. Your lies have seen your doom.”

  Sweat poured off Edwin’s forehead. His gaze darted about like a trapped animal.

  Markus watched this drama, his face almost as pale as his luminous hair. He stood absolutely still, but Ariana sensed a rising fury.

  “Murderer,” he shouted at his father. “You murdered my mother. You’re not my father anymore.”

  The boy didn’t stutter one bit.

  King William’s voice thundered through the rafters as he made his final decree. “Edwin of Carlinham, you will be punished for your crimes. You will be taken to Winchester where you’ll be executed within a fortnight, alongside Waltheof of Huntingdon. Guards! Take him away.”

  Armed men approached to take him, but Edwin spun about and jerked Ariana out of her seat. She gasped and raised her hands to protect herself.

  “Don’t move or I’ll kill her,” Edwin cried.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wulfgar jumped onto the high table, jerking at the manacles binding his hands. “Let Ariana go.”

  “Stay back.” Edwin pressed a knife against Ariana’s throat.

  Wulfgar froze. Ariana gasped as the prick of steel bit into her skin. Edwin pressed his face against hers as he jerked her toward the wall.

  “I’ll slit her throat,” he warned.

  His chest pressed against her back. She clutched the arm he wrapped across her and tried to push the knife away. He held tight, the knife poised to take her life.

  Wulfgar jumped down from the table, his hands raised, a snarl on his lips. When he spoke, his voice sounded dangerously quiet. “Harm a hair on her head and I’ll see the skin flayed from your body.”

  Edwin’s tone was just as chilling. “You’ll have to catch me, first. I mean it, de Conteville. I will kill her. I have nothing left to lose, now.”

  Guards surrounded the king, protecting him. He sat stiffly in his chair, his face puffed with fury. “You dare this outrage, Carlinham? There’ll be no place for you to hide. You’ll be hunted down like a mongrel dog.”

  “Do you think I care about your threats?” Edwin sneered.

  “Free him.” The king jerked his head toward Wulfgar. A guard hurried to remove the manacles from Wulfgar’s wrists.

  Edwin pulled Ariana away from the table. A collective gasp of outrage filled the room. Drawing their swords, several knights crowded close to Edwin.

  “Stay back
. He has the princess,” Wulfgar shouted.

  The knights moved back, but still surrounded Edwin.

  Wulfgar dropped the manacles and waved the guards away as he accepted a sword from Baldwin. He’d handle this on his own.

  Wielding the sword, Wulfgar took a step toward Edwin. Fury pounded against his temples. For some time, he had suspected Edwin of being the traitor, but he had no proof.

  Until now.

  “You’ll pay for all you’ve done,” he told Edwin. “Put down the knife. Let Ariana go and I’ll make your death painless.”

  Edwin drew the blade tighter against Ariana’s throat. Her jaw tightened as a drop of blood wet the blade. Wulfgar grit his teeth.

  “Don’t come any closer,” Edwin barked. “I’ll leave England and take Ariana with me. If you want to keep her alive, you’ll pay a ransom to me. When I’m through, there’ll be nothing left of your fortune.”

  Wulfgar snarled. He cared nothing about wealth, but he’d never let Edwin take Ariana out of Cynan. The thought of his beloved in the hands of such a man made Wulfgar sick.

  Edwin backed around the table, pulling Ariana with him. Wulfgar met Ariana’s gaze. Her eyes widened with fear, her lips parted as she breathed. Would he be able to save her this time?

  Edwin panted heavily and Wulfgar sensed the rising panic in him.

  The fear.

  Ariana stumbled as Edwin pulled her with him, passing the long tables filled with angry knights. He jerked her upright, giving her no opportunity to break free.

  “Think what I’ll do to her,” Edwin said. Without taking his gaze off Wulfgar, Edwin grinned and licked Ariana from her chin to her cheek.

  With a grimace of disgust, she shuddered and turned her face away, squirming against his hold.

  Wulfgar’s grip tightened on his sword. Fury boiled in his gut. Edwin was a dead man. He just didn’t know it, yet.

  As Edwin dragged Ariana the length of the hall, Wulfgar followed. Edwin turned the corner, stepping out into the sunlight. Wulfgar was right behind them as Edwin whirled with Ariana to face more guards standing in the bailey. The men gaped at Edwin in confusion. They didn’t know he was the real traitor.

  “Stay back,” Wulfgar told them. “He’ll harm the princess.”

 

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