A King's Betrayal (27 page)

             
‘I am not sure that I should be welcome there.’

             
‘I shall leave orders that you are to be left in peace – but I shall not force you.  If I return I shall ask you for your answer, Beth.’

             
‘When you return I will answer you.’

             
‘Then God be with you.’

             
‘And with you, my lord.’

             
William sighed.  ‘I shall never make you say my name, shall I?’

             
‘Perhaps one day – if I come to you.’

William was packing his saddlebags.  Most of his baggage had been sent ahead the previous day and in another hour or so he would leave for the Solent, where the King’s ships had been gathering for months past.  He had pledged to join Gloucester’s ship by the following day so as to be ready for the order, which would surely come soon.  The fleet had been gathering in hundreds of small inlets and creeks along the Hampshire coast while the vessels were prepared, kept as secret as possible so that the French should not be alerted to the strength of the invasion force.

             
‘Tell the men that wish to come with me to be ready,’ he barked the order at his steward.  ‘I shall leave within the hour.’

             
‘Yes, my lord.  Would you like food before you go?’

             
‘I shall not stay to eat.  We shall take fresh bread and cheese with us for the journey for I do not mean to stop.’

             
The steward inclined his head and left.  William went over to the window and looked down on the scene below.  Men from the village and surrounding district had flocked to the castle for the offer of the money he had promised their families.  He would have a fighting force of at least twenty men-at-arms and the ten pikemen and five archers he had promised Gloucester he would bring with him.  However, he had delayed longer than he’d intended and would need to move quickly or they might get left behind for he’d received an urgent message only that morning.

             
Hearing a muffled sound behind him, he turned to inquire what his steward needed and found himself facing Sir Hugh de Bracie.  From his appearance it was obvious that he had travelled swiftly and in some distress.

             
‘What has happened?’

             
‘We failed,’ Hugh said.  ‘Someone went to the King and told him of our plans.  Cambridge and the others have been arrested.  I was on my way to join them but was warned that things had gone awry.’

             
‘I give you my word that I did not betray you.’

             
‘I was told that it was Mortimer himself.  I think he feared what might happen if we failed and sought to protect his own head at the expense of his friends.’

             
William nodded.  ‘It was the reason I did not join you, sir.  The earl has reason to be grateful to Henry and I wondered if he would have the stomach for it.  I am sorry your plan failed but not surprised.’  William frowned.  ‘What will you do now?’

             
‘I must get to France.  I am not sure if my name is known, but they will strive to discover all those involved, and some may break under torture.  I shall be safer abroad for a time.’

             
‘Join me with Gloucester.  If you are questioned and can prove you fought with Henry you may deny all knowledge of the plot and blame your enemies for lying.’

             
‘I will travel with you to the coast.  If they look for me they will not expect to find me in your company.  I may offer my services to the duke and take my chance in battle.  I prefer a soldier’s death to that of a traitor.’

             
William crossed himself.  ‘I pity Cambridge and the others.  Henry hath no mercy for traitors.  He is his father’s son in that and their fate is sealed.  There is nothing to be done for them.  You must save yourself.’

             
‘One day we shall have our revenge,’ Hugh said grimly, ‘though I may not live to see it.  I curse the House of Lancaster.’  He spat on the ground.  ‘Thank you for being a friend, de Burgh.’

             
‘You know where my loyalties lie but we must all do what we can to survive in these uncertain times.  I have taken Gloucester’s gold and must serve my time with him, but in the future – if the time is right…’

             
Hugh clasped his shoulder.  ‘One day the house of York will rise again.  I know it in my heart, though my head tells me all is lost.’

             
‘My position is difficult,’ John, called the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, looked at the knight thoughtfully.  ‘Charles is mad and the Dauphin blames me for the murder of his uncle Louis.  I helped to negotiate the peace between Charles and Henry’s father two years ago, but there is little love lost between the houses of Valois and Burgundy.  I shall allow Charles to think that I support him, but give King Henry my word that I shall take no part in the fighting.  No matter what he hears to the contrary, he may rely on this. It is the most I can do for now, though in time I may come over to Henry’s side.’

             
‘I have heard that the English fleet is almost ready to leave.  They will be seen off the coast of France within the next few days.’

             
‘My spies will bring me word of their landing.  Take my message to Henry when he comes.  Shall you join him in his fight?’

             
‘It suits both our interests, my lord duke.  If Henry wins you may gain land that was promised you, but if Charles should prevail you may bide your time until another chance comes your way.’

             
‘You know that you are welcome to return to my service if you choose.  Your father was my friend and I would be a friend to his son.’

             
‘You have already been my friend.  Had your letter not informed me of my father’s death I might never have discovered the truth.’

             
‘You believe the tale that he was murdered to be true?’

             
‘I know it, my lord – and I have avenged his death.’

             
‘As a good son should.’  The duke smiled.  ‘Go with God, sir.  You have my blessing.’

             
Raoul left the duke’s presence, walking through the palace without a glance for the richness of his surroundings.  The court of Burgundy was one of the finest in Europe, renowned for its style, elegance and luxury.  The men and women who came here were the cream of the nobility, rich, cultured and intelligent.  To be accepted here was the hope of many a mercenary soldier or ambitious courtier, but Raoul had little interest in honours or favours.  He owed allegiance to no man or king, though he served both Burgundy and the English King when it suited him.

             
His restless spirit would not let him settle for the peace and comfort that most men desired.  He was driven by something inside that he did not understand.  His nights were less tortured than they had once been and he attributed that to the lady of the woods.  If nightmares broke his sleep, he had only to think of her to feel calmer.  She was often in his thoughts, though he was afraid that if he returned to find her he would discover that she was like any other whore.  She had not been virgin when he took her, yet there had been a sweet innocence about her loving that remained with him, wrapping him about with the warmth he had found in her arms.

             
That night had been enchanted but in the cold light of day all would seem different.  He would be a fool to believe that she was special.  Women were all whores at heart, faithless and treacherous.  Angeline had haunted his fevered thoughts for months, driving him mad with wanting – and she had murdered his father, then laughed as she boasted of her sin.  She had not laughed for long.

             
Raoul banished the memory, as he had banished the memory of the terror in the priest’s face as he begged for mercy.  The secret he had confessed had been of little interest.  Henry 1V was dead and his son on the throne.  Whatever sins the father might have committed were in the past and best forgotten.  Even had there ever been a bastard daughter of Richard 11, she was of little importance.  The House of Lancaster was in ascendance and the barons of England would not rise for a bastard.  Especially after the recent plot, which had foundered because the Earl of Mortimer had not wanted to risk his own head.  He was but a boy and feared his uncle’s wrath.  One day a man might come forward to claim the throne, a man who did not fear death; if that day came it would be the start of bloody wars in England.  Raoul doubted it would happen in his lifetime nor would he support such a rising if it did, though he might fight for whoever paid him the most gold.

             
Raoul set his mind to the coming task.  To die in battle was the most a man could hope for.  No man or woman was worth loving or dying for to his mind.  A man must fight for his own reasons whatever they might be.  Raoul did not fear to die at the end of a sword, but he feared the torment that came sometimes to his mind when he slept.

* * *

The English fleet set sail for France on 11
th
of August.  For those that watched from the shoreline it was a magnificent sight, wind filling the sails, many of which were embroidered with the arms of the various dukes and earls.  Pennons streamed in the wind together with the banners of hundreds of knights and barons, the sides of the ships festooned with more banners and shields.  The sound of trumpets and other musical instruments mingled with the cheering from hundreds of men who lined the decks, together with their horses and armour.

             
The King’s ship was the Trinite Royale, the largest and finest of the fleet.  A woven banner flew at his masthead, displaying the three persons of the Godhead and Our Lady, and the arms of Saint Edward, St George and England.  Immediately at his rear were the other important ships, the Katharine de la Toure, the Petite Trinite de la Toure and the Rude coq de la Toure.

             
William stood on deck amongst others that had pledged their swords to Gloucester, watching as the shores of England retreated into a haze of sea mist.

             
‘If we have good fortune we should make land within two days,’ Hugh said coming to stand by his side.  ‘I thank you for vouching for me, de Burgh.  I shall not forget.’

             
‘You may not thank me when the fighting starts,’ William replied with a wry smile.  ‘Neither of us can be sure that we shall see England again.’

             
‘I am not afraid to die a soldier’s death.’

             
‘Nor I – but we may as easily die of sickness or the bloody flux.’

             
‘It is as God wills.’  Hugh crossed himself.

             
William nodded.  ‘You recall what you told me of your sister’s child?’

             
‘Yes – why?’

             
‘Was nothing ever heard of the girl again?’

             
‘Nothing.’

             
‘Yet your sister believes she lives – why?’

             
‘It is but a woman’s fancy.  Why do you ask?’

             
William shook his head.  ‘I know of a woman who says that she was found wandering in a wood as a child.  The woman, who brought her up as her daughter, was some months ago tried as a witch and hanged, but Beth is of finer clay.  There is something about her…Nay, do not look so.  I dare say it is merely fancy, but when I last saw her I thought…’ He shook his head once more.  ‘Forget I said anything.  It is fancy no more.’

             
‘Why tell me now?’

             
‘I fear for her future.  I have done what I could to protect her, but she has enemies.  I suppose I thought…but I should not have spoken.’

             
‘Where does she live?’

             
‘In a hut in my woods.  She has a cottage in the village that I have forbidden anyone to take but she is afraid to live there.’

             
‘What is she to you?’

             
‘Nothing.  She might have been my mistress had she wished it but she refused me.  She has such pride, but I dare say there is naught in it.’

             
‘Yet it may be worth investigating.  I shall write to my sister.  Tomas will discover the girl and do what he thinks best.’

             
‘Yes.  As I said, I am sure it is mere fancy – but I have told you and there is no more to be said.’