by Alexa Aston
Bold in Honor
Knights Of Honor
Book Six
Alexa Aston
Copyright © 2018 by Alexa Aston
Kindle Edition
Published by Dragonblade Publishing, an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Code of Honor
Journey to Honor
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Isolated Hearts
Sentinel
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The Lost Lord of Castle Black
The Vanishing of Lord Vale
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Revenge of the Corsairs, Heart of the Corsairs Series
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Endearing
Enchanted
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Meet a Rogue at Midnight, book 4
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Second Chance Marquess
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Vienna Woods
Vienna Dawn
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The Wicked Baron
The Wicked Lady
The Wicked Rebel
The Wicked Husband
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My Reckless Love
Clash of the Tartans Series by Anna Markland
Kilty Secrets
Kilted at the Altar
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Child of the Night Guild
Thief of the Night Guild
Dark Gardens Series by Meara Platt
Garden of Shadows
Garden of Light
Garden of Dragons
Garden of Destiny
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Books from Dragonblade Publishing
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Kinwick Castle—June, 1376
Ancel de Montfort made Old Davy’s cottage his last stop of the day. The oldest tenant on Kinwick lands had died the previous week. At the end of his life, Davy had gone blind and usually doffed his clothes when the weather turned warm, complaining that they irritated his skin. Ancel remembered how he and his twin sister, Alys, had been frightened of Davy when they were young children but as Ancel grew older, he had learned to respect the irascible serf. Davy grew mellow during his last years and Ancel enjoyed visiting with him each time he returned home to Kinwick on summer break from fostering at Winterbourne.
He checked the inside of the cottage and found it in good condition. The sparse furnishings included a table and two chairs that the next tenant could use. Davy’s bed had been a pallet on the floor near the fire. The threadbare blanket could be tossed away with the old straw. Ancel went outside and examined the walls and roof of the structure and found it needed some new thatching in one spot. That could wait until early autumn, after the harvesting had been completed. He wondered who his mother had in mind to receive the vacant cottage. Merryn de Montfort was always matchmaking among their workers and soldiers and he had no doubt the cottage would soon have new occupants.
Ancel remounted his horse and wound his way through the forest until he reached the main road which led to the keep. He’d enjoyed his day, visiting with various farmers as he helped work the hay harvest. Tomorrow, he’d spend time with other serfs involved with the June shearing. His father had emphasized that Ancel must get out on the estate frequently and learn everyone’s name, as well as what tasks occurred throughout the year on Kinwick lands. One day, he would become the new earl upon his father’s death and Ancel wanted to be every bit the man his father was. Geoffrey de Montfort not only had a reputation as one of England’s greatest warriors but he was a fair liege lord, involved with every aspect of his estate.
As Ancel approached the castle, he saw in the center of the lane a bedraggled young man. The stranger had almost reached the closed gates. Ancel spurred Storm on, curious as to who this visitor was.
“I demand to see Lord Geoffrey de Montfort at once,” the man said, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight as he looked up.
“And what might your business with Lord Geoffrey be?” called down the gatekeeper.
The filthy stranger hollered back, “I have a very important missive from the king for the baron. ‘Tis something Lord Geoffrey must read at once and act upon.”
“And where is this missive?” Ancel asked as he drew up his horse beside the man. “I am Ancel de Montfort, Lord Geoffrey’s eldest son.”
The messenger looked at him warily before he pulled a small, rolled up parchment partly from his shirt. “I’m to put this in Lord Geoffrey’s hands. No others,” he insisted.
“Usually, a messenger sent from the king is riding a horse,” Ancel noted, his eyes skimming their visitor’s shabby appearance. “And he has the king’s banner so that all may recognize where he comes from. You have neither.” He didn’t add that the king’s man would have been dressed in a much better quality of clothing. This stranger, who looked close to Ancel’s age, wore attire that was more suitable for a servant in the royal kitchens.
The young man’s mouth set stubbornly but his eyes darted about nervously. Finally, he said, “Please, my lord. I swore to the king I would see that Lord Geoffrey read this. The king needs him. If your father reads it, he’ll understand why.”
Ancel studied the stranger before him. Despite the unusual circumstances, for some reason he found this messenger to be credible. He wondered why the king might have sent such an unusual courier but the answer could lie within the missive itself.
“Open the gates,” Ancel called up. “I’ll escort our visitor to his destination.”<
br />
“Oh, thank you, my lord,” the man said with relief.
As the gates swung open, Ancel told him, “Go directly to the keep and wait at the foot of the steps. I’ll drop my horse at the stables and meet you. We’ll go together to see my father.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Ancel rode straight to the stables and left his mount with a groom. The young man supposedly sent from King Edward had drawn Ancel’s curiosity. He hadn’t seen the king in several years now. The monarch had made it a habit to call on the de Montforts every few years by directing the royal court’s progress toward Kinwick, but the sovereign’s health in recent years had been poor and prevented him from traveling across his kingdom as he’d done each summer for decades.
Ancel rounded the corner and saw the messenger nervously pacing at the foot of the steps leading up to the keep. He visibly relaxed as Ancel came toward him.
“Thank you again, my lord, for seeing me inside the gates. And for granting me an audience with your father. The king was insistent that his missive reach Lord Geoffrey as soon as possible.” He paused. “I know I am not the kind of man the king usually sends but he had his reasons for me coming all the same.”
“Come.” He motioned for the man to follow him. As they mounted the stairs, he asked, “What’s your name?”
The courier hesitated.
Ancel laughed. “Surely, you can share your name with me.”
“I suppose so,” he said reluctantly. “I am Jupp.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Ancel teased.
Jupp scowled. “The king told me to be wary. To trust no one till I reached Lord Geoffrey’s estate.”
“I see.” Ancel found himself even more intrigued as he led the man inside the keep. He spotted Tilda carrying a tray with food and drink on it.
“Is that for Mother and Father?” Ancel asked her.
“It is, my lord.”
“Are they in the solar together?”
“Aye.” She eyed the scruffy messenger beside him with disdain.
Ancel took the tray from the trusted servant. “I’ll see they get it.” He nodded at the stranger. “This is a messenger from the king. Would you see that clean clothes are found for him? He’ll need something to eat and drink, as well, once he’s met with Father.” He glanced back at the bedraggled young man. “And a bath, I think, before we send him back on his way to London.”
Tilda frowned. “I’ve never seen a royal messenger that looked like this one and we’ve had plenty of them over the years.” She paused. “And we don’t just go giving baths to strangers, you know.”
The opinionated servant had always had a soft spot for Ancel, so he gave her an engaging smile. “Please, Tilda.”
“Oh, all right,” she said begrudgingly. “But he needs to wash the grime from his face and hands before he meets with Lord Geoffrey. Lady Merryn will be appalled at his appearance as it is,” Tilda declared.
“That’s a good idea,” Ancel agreed.
“But my lord,” protested Jupp. “I need to deliver the king’s message.”
He shook his head. “You heard Tilda. Her word is law inside the keep, Jupp. Clean your hands and face thoroughly and then she will deliver you to the solar to meet with my parents. I will see you in a few minutes.” He looked at the servant. “Tilda, Jupp is all yours.”
Ancel climbed the stairs and went to the end of the corridor. He pushed opened the door to the solar, balancing the tray in one hand, and then closed it from the other side.
His mother’s face lit with a smile. She put her sewing aside. “This is a surprise. I was expecting Tilda to bring us refreshment, not my handsome son.”
Ancel set the tray on the table and kissed her cheek. “Are you making something new for Wyatt and Philippa?”
She smiled. “I am. They’ll grow so fast. Alys has so much on her hands since she gave birth to twins this spring. This is a small way that I can be helpful to her.”
His father laughed. “Your mother would move to Brentwood without a second thought if your sister asked her to.”
“Geoffrey, I would never leave you. You know that. But if Alys does have need of me, I might go and spend a few weeks again with her and Kit and the little ones. Besides, weren’t you the one saying the minute we returned to Kinwick last week that you couldn’t wait to see your grandchildren again?”
He shrugged. “It’s not every day that twins are born. And they are our first grandchildren, my love. I know we are both eager to spend more time with them.”
“I look forward to meeting my new niece and nephew,” Ancel said. “Mayhap when Mother is done sewing these clothes and blankets for them, I can escort her to Brentwood.” He sighed. “It’s funny to think of Alys as a mother now.”
“Well, she’s always mothered your brothers and sister since they are younger than the two of you,” his father pointed out. “Alys has a nurturing spirit.”
Ancel laughed. “Hal and Edward both think they’re too old to be coddled by her anymore but I know Nan still enjoys the attention she gets from Alys.”
His mother asked, “How did you find Old Davy’s cottage?”
“It’s in very good shape. The roof could stand a little work but it can wait till we do repairs to the other cottages come autumn.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’m glad to hear that. We may have need of it very soon.”
His father groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and decided to marry off another of my soldiers, Merryn.”
She shrugged. “If you don’t want to know, then I won’t tell you.”
He laughed and turned to Ancel. “Be glad she hasn’t married you off yet, Son.”
Merryn clucked her tongue. “I would do no such thing, Geoffrey. You know our family believes in love matches. I’d never pick a mate for Ancel. He needs to be free to find a wife of his own choosing.”
Ancel laughed. “And I have no desire to marry for several years, Mother. But I have other news.” He paused. “A messenger arrived from the king just minutes ago.”
“I want to see the missive at once,” his father demanded. “Where is it?”
“The courier doesn’t look like a usual messenger, Father. Jupp was on foot when I came upon him and covered in filth. I believe he actually walked all the way here from London by his appearance.”
“Not on horseback? That’s odd. Where is he?” Geoffrey asked.
“He should be here any moment. Tilda had him wash up before he came to see you.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“That should be him now.”
Ancel retrieved Jupp from the hallway. He saw his mother’s eyes widen at the young man’s tattered appearance.
“My lord. My lady.” Jupp bowed awkwardly and swallowed hard. “I bring you a missive from the king. He asked that I see it placed in your hands.” He removed the small scroll from under his muddy gypon and handed it to Geoffrey.
His father took it and frowned. “What? There’s no seal on this. How can I believe this is from King Edward, much less take it seriously?”
Jupp implored, “You must, my lord. The king is counting on you. He didn’t call for wax and his seal because he wanted no one to know he sent it to you.”
Geoffrey handed the parchment to Ancel. “Here. You read it. Tell me if it’s worth my time,” he said dismissively.
Ancel sat at the table and unrolled the scroll. The first thing that surprised him was the number of blotches on it. He’d seen missives the king had sent to his parents and those letters were beautifully written with no ink spots upon them. He scanned it without reading it and saw numerous misspellings.
“Why did a child write this?” he quizzed the messenger, who shuffled uncomfortably.
“Because he couldn’t trust his secretary,” the young man blurted out. “The king said he could trust no one.”
Ancel saw that statement got his father’s attention.
Geoffrey wheeled to face the messenger and asked, “What has happened
at court that would lead to such secrecy?”
“The Black Prince is dead,” Jupp revealed. “He summoned the king and the Duke of Lancaster to his bedside as he lay dying. The Black Prince had both his father and brother swear an oath that they would recognize Richard as the next king. And King Edward will ask Parliament to do the same.”
Although Richard was the son of the Black Prince and should be next in line as heir to the throne with his father’s death, Ancel knew there was always the possibility that John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, would try to seize power once King Edward passed. As the king’s second oldest son, Lancaster might feel he would make for a better monarch than a small boy. England had been stable for decades, thanks to King Edward’s long rule. A nine-year-old boy was hardly a replacement for a king who’d sat on the throne for almost fifty years.
“When did this happen?” his father asked.
“Prince Edward died last week on the eighth of June. King Edward knows that the duke has spies everywhere. The king asks to see you in person, Lord Geoffrey, and he didn’t want his son to know you’d been summoned to court by him.” Jupp paused. “I’m only a servant in the royal household. The king told me that you’d find a place for me at Kinwick. He said by the time I reached you, his son’s spies would know I was missing. That I’ve been gone. If I return?” Jupp shuddered.
Geoffrey looked to Ancel. “Read the missive aloud.”
To Lord Gefrey de Monford –
Grandfather says to tell yu that these are his words, my lord, but I am writting them down for him. I am Richard, son of Edward of Woodstock, known as the Black Prince of Englund.
Lord Gefrey, I have need of yu. My helth is fayling and I must see yu at once. Bring yur oldest sun when yu come. I warn yu—there’s danger evrywhere.
Pleas keep Jupp at Kynwyk. He’s a good workur and will serv yu well.
Hurry, my lord.
Sorry, Lord Gefrey. I’m not the best speller in Englysh. My Latin is beter.
Ancel glanced to his father. “That’s all there is.”
He watched a look pass between his parents. They had been married long enough that they could communicate without words. His mother nodded but Ancel saw her eyes mist with tears.
