by Alexa Aston
“At least I know my sister is loved.”
“Aye, that she is. By her husband and her people,” Sir Albert agreed.
The pair finally broke the kiss. Nicholas cupped his wife’s face.
“I love you, Kate,” he said hoarsely.
“Come back to me. Come back to us.” She lowered a hand to her belly and rubbed it.
Joy filled Nicholas’ face. “Again?”
“I think so,” she replied. “I will know for sure soon but I wanted to tell you before you left.”
Her husband kissed her with enthusiasm. “I hope this time it will be a girl, Kate. A girl strong and beautiful, just as her mother is.”
Katelyn’s eyes welled with tears. “Go. Before I decide to chain you in the dungeon at Northmere to keep you from leaving me to fight the bloody French.”
Nicholas gave her a swift kiss and then bent and kissed her belly. “I’ll be back. I promise.” He looked to Landon and swept Ruston into his arms, tossing the boy in the air and catching him. Ruston giggled. “And don’t grow too much or too fast, my sweet boy.” He kissed the top of his son’s head. “I love you both. You are the little man of Northmere now. Take care of your mother.”
He handed Ruston back to his wife without looking at her. Turning to Sir Albert, he said, “Get them home, Albert. Watch over them.”
“Always, my lord,” the knight replied.
“Come,” Nicholas told Landon. “I see Morley.” Without a backward glance, he strode off.
Landon went and brushed a kiss on his sister’s cheek. “Take care, little sister.”
“You, too,” she said softly.
He caught up to Nicholas and soon found himself introduced to Robert Morley. Landon liked him immediately. He’d always found himself a good judge of character and knew Morley was an excellent choice to be in charge of the northern fleet. The nobleman appeared intelligent and confident and had organized the merchant ships he’d gathered into groups, assigning various families from Northumberland and their soldiers to each. They discussed the particulars of the rendezvous point as more men arrived and boarded the ships in the harbor.
Morley looked around. “We’re ready to sail, Sir Landon.”
Nicholas had already departed and seen his men aboard two nearby vessels. Morley offered for Landon to sail with his ship but Landon told the nobleman he would get to know the men aboard another one instead.
“I already have great faith in you, Morley. I wish to become familiar with others from the north who sail with us.”
“A wise decision, my lord,” Morley confirmed and wished him well before boarding the ship directly behind them. Immediately, the nobleman began calling for all in the harbor to climb aboard, as their departure was imminent.
Landon looked around and saw two ships over from where he stood was a vessel only about half full. A young man looked anxious as he listened to Morley’s shouts. Landon decided this was the ship he would take across the Channel. He wanted to quiet the man’s fears. He joined five other soldiers who swung onto the deck and went directly to the young nobleman to introduce himself.
“I am Sir Landon de Blays,” he said, offering his hand. “A member of King Edward’s royal guard.”
The nobleman took it. He had a surprisingly firm grip. “Sir Tobyn Campion of Briarwood, my lord.”
“Have you been a knight long, Sir Tobyn?” asked Landon.
The young man looked sheepish. “Does it show? I gained my knighthood less than two months ago. I have fought several years in the border wars with Scotland, though.”
“So have I,” confirmed Landon. “A nasty business at times.”
“Aye. I lost two brothers in battle and my father’s wounds from one of the skirmishes have never healed. He is bedridden.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Do you have other brothers?” he asked.
“None living, my lord,” Campion replied. “My sister, Cassiana, is in charge of Briarwood. She has taken on the responsibilities within the keep and on the estate itself, both during my father’s illness and now in my absence. There’s nothing she cannot do. Why, I think she would have it in her to rule England itself,” he exclaimed. “If the king allowed Cassiana to lead this assault against the French, they would run all the way to Paris with their tails tucked beneath them.”
“She sounds like a most capable woman,” Landon said, though he realized this young man exaggerated. No woman of his acquaintance, not even Katelyn, was that exceptional.
Campion laughed. “The most capable woman in Europe, I’d wager. There’s nothing Cassiana can’t do.” He studied Landon a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to be wealthy, my lord, and possess a large estate? I am looking for a man my sister can wed. I want to make it home and relieve her of all the responsibilities that she has carried on her shoulders for far too long. As a member of the king’s royal guard, I know you must be trustworthy.”
Landon chuckled. “I have no title and no lands, Sir Tobyn. You’ll have to find someone far better for your remarkable sister than me.”
His companion shrugged. “It was a thought. I promised her I’d be on the lookout for a brave, intelligent, wealthy man.”
“Were those her requirements?” he asked, his curiosity growing about this woman.
“Nay. The only thing Cassiana wishes for is a man she can respect. She wouldn’t be impressed by material wealth. I, on the other hand, want nothing but the best for her. That means I require she marries a man with a large estate and an even larger treasury.”
Though Landon was intrigued by this man’s sister, he knew he did not fit Campion’s lofty requirements.
“We could speak to my brother-in-law,” he suggested. “Mayhap you know Lord Nicholas Mandeville of Northmere?”
“Lord Nicholas?” The knight’s face grew flush. “He is the most powerful lord in all of Northumberland. Northmere is the largest estate of the north. Do you think he could help me as I search for a husband for Cassiana?”
“We can ask him,” Landon said. “Let’s tackle the French first—then we’ll see if Nicholas can recommend a nobleman for your sister to wed.”
Chapter Four
Landon enjoyed their short time on the seas, his first ever on a ship in open water. He pitied the men on board who’d turned green and puked over the sides. Most of those who’d been ill had recovered quickly from their seasickness but two remained huddled on deck, sweating and groaning.
Now, they approached Blankenberge. Within an hour, Landon spotted a massive group of ships and knew the king had arrived before them and dropped anchor. As they drew near, he recognized the cog, Thomas, and knew this was the one his cousin had planned to sail on. The Royal Standard that rippled from the masthead was a group of lilies. Ever since Edward had assumed the title King of France six months earlier, he’d taken to quartering his coat of arms with the lilies of France. Landon believed his cousin had a strong claim to the French throne, being the nearest male relative of Charles the Fair, who’d died leaving only daughters behind. The French people thought otherwise. Edward’s cousin, the Count of Valois, had been chosen France’s new king instead, since Charles left the choice of his successor to his nobles.
That decision had led them to this day and England’s recent alliance with the Flemish.
Landon wondered if Edward proved successful at invading France and dethroning King Philip, would he be able to hold the French throne for long? At heart, Edward was an Englishman. The monarch would long to return to his home. He’d been born at Windsor Castle and it was dear to him. The queen also loved living for a majority of the year at Windsor. Landon could not see Philippa uprooting her expanding family and moving them to Paris. Yet, if Edward didn’t remain in France after his victory, how could he rule from across the Channel?
Finding Tobyn Campion, the ranking nobleman aboard, Landon told him, “I need to meet with the king once his ship comes near. Would you care to accompany me?”
The knight nodded eagerly. “I would be
honored to meet the king, Sir Landon.”
No rowboats had been placed aboard in order to get as many soldiers on each ship as possible, so Landon waited until they came within shouting distance of the Thomas. He made known his intention and their small merchant vessel drew as close to the ship as it could. Landon signaled to Tobyn and the two men climbed to the edge of their ship and leaped across to the king’s.
A member of the royal guard greeted him. “The king wishes to speak to you immediately, Sir Landon, regarding the situation. He said no one but his cousin would do.”
Landon nodded and motioned for Tobyn to accompany him as the guardsman led them to Edward.
“I had no idea you were the king’s cousin,” the young knight said and then grinned. “Had I but known it, I would have asked that your cousin help find a husband for Cassiana.”
“Enough about your sister,” he said good-naturedly as the guardsman slowed and then stepped aside, revealing England’s monarch.
“Cousin!” the king exclaimed, a wide smile on his face.
The two men bowed and Landon said, “Your majesty, may I present Sir Tobyn Campion of Briarwood, son of the Earl of Briargate.”
“Greetings, Sir Tobyn,” the king said. “I have a great deal of respect for your father. He has helped keep my northern lands safe for many years. How does he fare?”
“He is confined to his bed these days, your majesty, thanks to wounds he suffered fighting the Scots.”
“I am sorry to hear that.” Edward frowned a moment and then addressed Landon. “Give me news of these northern ships, Cousin.”
“Sir Robert assembled a good fifty ships, sire, and we bring close to eight hundred men on them. Half are archers and the other half men-at-arms.”
“Your majesty? The scouts have arrived,” a guardsman said.
“Bring them to me at once,” the king commanded. Looking to Landon, he said, “After we dropped anchor last night, I sent three men ashore to reconnoiter the French fleet. I have been awaiting their report.”
The trio appeared before the king. Landon recognized Sir Reginald Cobham and Sir John Chandos but did not know the third man. It was this nobleman who spoke first.
“The enemy vessels are anchored at the entrance of the Zwin, sire,” the unknown man said. “So tightly packed that they cannot move, thinking to block our path.”
“We spotted our captured cog, as well,” Chandos added. “The Christopher is intact, waiting for us to reclaim it, as are several other English ships the French seized in recent months.”
“How many lines are the ships arranged in?” Edward asked. “And who is in command?”
“Quiéret and Béhuchet are leading the French. Admiral Babavera commands their Genovese allies,” Chandos revealed. “From what we gathered, the French are ignoring Babavera’s advice regarding the lines. Babavera insists the French should put out to sea so they are able to maneuver freely.”
“The French ships are in three, and sometimes, four lines all within the harbor, your majesty,” Cobham added. “They’re lashed together with boarding lines.”
Landon knew ships often did this at sea in order for soldiers to move easily from ship to ship. In a narrow harbor, though, they would be at a disadvantage for they would have no freedom of movement. Without being able to maneuver, England would have the advantage as they entered the harbor.
A slow smile spread across the king’s face. “Summon my commanders. With this information, I’m ready to finalize our plan of attack.”
Landon signaled Tobyn and the two men retreated and found Sir Robert. “The king is ready to talk strategy, my lord.”
The nobleman nodded curtly to Landon. “Take me to him.”
He suggested that Tobyn remain behind and the knight quickly agreed, thanking Landon for his brief introduction to the king.
An hour later, the battle plan had been drawn up.
*
Landon bid Tobyn Campion farewell, again promising to speak to Nicholas about the availability of a prospective bridegroom for Tobyn’s sister. He’d spent several hours in conversation with the young man and liked him quite a bit so he was happy to ask his brother-in-law for a small favor on behalf of the young knight. Landon found Sir Robert, whose task was to recapture the missing English vessels that lay on the left side of the harbor. Morley would attack the left flank of France’s fleet, first having his archers shoot down any visible French crewman and then having each vessel’s men-at-arms board and clear the seized English ones in hand-to-hand combat.
“I’m returning to the king’s side, Sir Robert. I know the northern fleet is in good hands.”
“’Tis been a pleasure meeting you, Sir Landon. When this is over, we will find a quiet corner and a good glass of wine and talk of things other than war.”
“I’ll hold you to it,” Landon said.
He reboarded the Thomas, wanting to remain in close proximity to the king during the battle. His cousin was not a man to sit back and let others do his fighting for him. Edward would be in the thick of battle from the moment it started. Landon intended to protect the monarch from danger at all cost.
The signal came and the English fleet set sail. Edward planned to navigate up the Zwin estuary to Bruges and land his army. Bruges would then become the base that would support his plans for invading France. Landon knew why the French ignored Babavera’s advice. They hoped to bar Edward’s way inland.
But at what cost?
He found the king, sword and shield in hand, his face heightened with color. Landon quickly gathered four of his fellow royal guardsmen nearby.
“Don’t prevent the king from fighting but keep your eyes on him at all times,” he instructed. “He’s prone to taking risks in battle. Our task is to make sure he comes out of this battle not only alive—but without a mark upon him.”
The men all nodded and readied their own weapons.
Landon glanced at the northern portion of their fleet and saw Morley’s ships breaking to the left as the rest of the English fleet forged ahead. Then, as planned, the ships began splitting off in groups of threes. The first two ships in each trio were filled to the brim with archers, while the last contained nothing but soldiers. He watched the first group of ships rain arrows upon the enemy decks in quick succession. Screams of the wounded began to fill the air. Thanks to the longbow, an English archer fired twenty arrows each minute. The French and Genoese crossbowmen could only return two in the same amount of time.
The signal came for him and his fellow swordsmen to spring into action. Ever watchful of where the king was, Landon remained near the monarch’s left as they boarded their first French vessel. Swords unsheathed, the English soldiers charged onto the deck with shouts.
The conflict started brutally and never let up. In essence, it was the same as fighting a land battle, except they were at sea. Soldiers fought against soldiers exactly as they would on a battlefield. Soon, the decks grew slippery from the spilled blood as scattered bodies fell to the planks. The archers continued to wage a war of arrows as men-at-arms quickly followed up in individual combat, taking ship after ship. Landon’s arms began to tire from swinging and thrusting his sword so many times. He had no idea how many men’s lives he had taken in the hours they’d fought. The sun dipped low on the horizon. Darkness would soon fall.
Landon spotted Tobyn Campion on the deck of the next ship, mere feet from where he himself fought. The young knight’s face was covered in blood and dirt but his body spoke of his determination. Campion struck down two Frenchmen and turned to face a third. Then Landon spied a swordsman racing toward the English knight. Landon cried out a warning, hoping the soldier to Campion’s left would move swiftly to aid the young man. The soldier turned and looked—and remained rooted to the spot, his sword hanging by his side.
A smile on his face.
Landon jumped onto the ship as the French swordsman reached Campion. Suddenly, the enemy’s sword protruded from the knight’s throat, having been shoved through t
he back of his neck. Young Tobyn’s eyes widened in pain. The French bastard kicked the knight in his back. Campion fell face down on the deck.
With a roar that echoed above the din of the fight, Landon arced his sword and slammed the weapon deep into his enemy’s skull. A look of surprise flickered on the man’s face and then Landon’s booted foot knocked the man to the deck. He quickly turned, wanting to find the soldier who had deliberately ignored the threat to Tobyn Campion, but the deck was full of men with clanging swords. Landon would never find—much less punish—the Englishman who failed to intervene and possibly save Tobyn Campion’s life.
At that moment, he saw the king leaping onto a neighboring ship. Landon quickly jumped back to where the king had stood and then he and the band of men guarding the monarch followed suit to the new deck. As the group boarded, an arrow pierced Edward’s upper arm. A loud curse erupted from the king.
Rushing to his cousin’s side, Landon pulled him away and ordered, “Come with me, your majesty.”
The other royal guardsmen kept the enemy away so that Landon could get their king to safety. He spied the Thomas and headed in its direction. It took moving across seven other ships before they reached the king’s vessel. Gripping his cousin’s elbow, they made the final leap and arrived to safety.
“Find the healer!” Landon shouted. “The king has been injured.”
Quickly, he brought Edward to the center of the ship and found the four guardsmen had all followed.
Pushing his cousin to the deck, he commanded, “Surround the king. Lift your shields. Make sure nothing gets through.”
The men moved as one and encircled their monarch. Landon knelt beside him.
“You take far too many chances with your life, sire,” he chided.
Edward shrugged. “I cannot attempt to claim another crown if I don’t lead my own men, Landon.” He looked down at the arrow sticking out from his arm. “Besides, this is nothing. It will leave a scar but that will be a reminder to me of this day’s great victory.” Grinning, he added, “And Philippa will fuss over me. I rather enjoy the attention I get from my queen.”
