A King's Betrayal (42 page)

Ruth dismounted from her palfrey and looked about her.  They had come to a large house in the best part of the city and were to stay with friends of William’s.  It was years since Ruth had visited Winchester with her father and she was excited, looking forward to visiting the silk merchants and purveyors of fine goods.  To have the chance of buying books was such a rare treat for they were so expensive, but she knew that there was a merchant who dealt in such luxuries here in the city and she could scarcely wait to visit his house.

             
William’s friends had come out to greet them and, after an exchange of greetings, they entered the house.  Sir Michael Daltry had once been a knight in the service of his King, but he had resigned his office some years previously and was now a wealthy and successful wool merchant.  Ruth recalled passing his warehouse on their way into the city for William had pointed it out to her.

             
‘You are very welcome, mistress,’ Sir Michael said to Ruth.  A stout man with long greying hair and a kindly face, he smelled faintly of the oils used in the curing and cleansing of fleeces.  ‘I am pleased to have your company for my wife died last winter and it will be good to hear a gentle woman’s voice in the house again.’

             
‘I am sorry to hear of your loss, sir,’ Ruth replied.  ‘Have you children?’

             
‘One son but he is in service with His Majesty and I see little of him.’

             
‘You must miss him.’

             
‘I hope that he will marry soon and give me grandchildren,’ he said.  ‘But I am neglecting my duties.  I shall have one of the servants take you to your chamber.’

             
A maidservant was summoned and led the way up a narrow staircase to the landing above.  Ruth heard Sir William laugh in response to something his friend had said and smiled.  Perhaps he would forget his grief now that he had Sir Michael’s company.

             
Left alone in her chamber, Ruth looked about her and thought how comfortable the room was, the walls lined with wood panelling that made it feel warmer than the stone of William’s castle.  All the furniture was light oak, consisting of stools and coffers; also a chair with arms and a straight back made softer by cushions piled against it.  The drapes about the bed were of rich damask and the floor was partially covered by a woven rug in colours of rich reds, blues and browns in the style of the carpets first brought back to England by the Crusaders but more usually hung on the walls.

             
Sir Michael must be a wealthy man and he lived well.  He was the kind of man that she had spoken of when she discussed the future with Beth, Ruth thought as she put off her cloak and made herself tidy.  The middle-aged knight had looked at her with interest and she suspected that he had been lonely since the death of his wife the previous year.  It was possible that he might make her an offer if she were to smile kindly on him.    Ruth knew that she would have been glad of such an arrangement only a few months earlier and she found him congenial. 

             
A gentle smile on her lips, she left her chamber and went back down to join the gentlemen.  Ruth liked this house and her host.  It might be pleasant to live in a house like this if she were given the opportunity.

‘Is there anything more I can do for you, Mistress Redfern?’

             
The silk merchant bowed to her obsequiously.  Ruth had spent the most of the morning happily examining his wares.  She had purchased two lengths of heavy damask for herself, also several ells of wool and fine gossamer silk that would make beautiful veils for her head-dress.  She added some plain cloth that she intended to embroider and use to make cushions and hangings for Sir William’s chamber, which she considered too austere.  It needed a feminine touch and she would be happy to make him more comfortable as a way of repaying his kindness.

             
She was feeling happy and very spoiled when she left the merchant’s house and began to walk along the street.  It was a cold bright day and her breath made little clouds on the air. This was the area of the city where all the rich merchants had their businesses, their shop fronts opened to reveal rich silks, leather items, shoes, perfumes and oils, spices and wines, almonds, figs and dates amongst many other luxuries.  It was as she passed an apothecary’s shop that she happened to glance at a party of horsemen who had just entered the market square.  She saw the knight, his squire and a groom with a lady, riding pillion behind him.  Something made her stare at the lady.  It was a moment or two before recognition came for the lady’s hair was covered by a gold net and an elaborate head-dress from which fell a fine veil of the finest silk.  For a brief moment the lady turned her head in Ruth’s direction and in that second she was certain.

             
It was Beth!  Ruth felt a thrill of excitement.  Beth was alive.  She was about to cross the street to speak to her, but the knight had taken her hand and was drawing her into the goldsmith’s shop.  Beth hadn’t seen her.  She’d had eyes only for her handsome knight.

             
Unsure of her reception if she intruded, Ruth hesitated as the couple went inside, leaving the groom and squire to guard the horses.  Would Beth feel embarrassed if she sought her out?  Did the knight know who she was and what had happened at William’s castle?

             
Beth was clearly well and happy.  Ruth did not wish to cause trouble for her and continued on her way along the street.  Perhaps it was best not to intrude.  Beth would not wish to be reminded of William or that fateful day at the castle, and it might prove difficult for her to explain how she knew Ruth.  Feeling pleased to know that the girl she liked was with a man who seemed to care for her and not reduced to begging for her supper, Ruth was smiling as she entered Sir Michael’s house.

             
She had decided that she would not tell William just yet.  Perhaps when they were back at the castle she might mention that she had caught a glimpse of Beth.  If he knew Beth was in Winchester he would insist on searching until he found her – and he would be angered to see her with her knight.

             
‘Mistress Redfern,’ Sir Michael greeted her as she went into the parlour.  ‘Did you enjoy your visit to the silk merchant?’

             
‘It was a very pleasant occasion,’ Ruth told him, her face alight with excitement.  ‘I have  purchased materials and silks and have sufficient to fill many an empty hour.’

             
‘I believe you also like to read?’ Sir Michael remarked.  ‘I have a volume of French verse, also a Book of Hours, which I should be happy to show you.  Reading is a pleasure to me as is good conversation – and on occasion, when I am bid to court I like to dance.’

             
Ruth hid her smile at the thought of the portly knight dancing.  He was a kindly man and she knew that he liked her.  Should she choose, she might never have to leave his house for she was sure that he would offer for her given encouragement.  Sir Michael knew what her position in her cousin’s house must be.  She was treated with consideration but still a poor relation with no rank or position.  If he offered he would expect to be accepted and to refuse would offend him.

             
‘Do you play chess, sir?’ Ruth asked.  ‘My mother and I play sometimes of an evening but Sir William does not.’

             
‘Why yes, it is a game that pleases me much,’ he said and looked suddenly eager.  ‘We must try our skill when you have…’ He broke off as two gentlemen entered the room. 

             
‘Ah Ruth,’ Sir William greeted her.  ‘You have returned.  Your morning was pleasantly spent I trust.’

             
‘Yes, cousin. I thank you for your generosity and have spent the money well.’

             
‘Good, good.’  He smiled at her and then gestured towards his companion.  ‘I do not know if you recall Lord Tomas?  He visited the castle when I was ill and then again before he took Beth’s child back to his home.  He is here on business and we met by chance.  Lord Tomas asked if I had heard anything of Beth but I was unable to give him good tidings of her.’

             
Ruth stared at him, feeling her heart quicken. For a moment she could scarcely breathe.  What was she to do?  If she told them now it was possible that Beth and her knight were still with the goldsmith and Lord Tomas might find the daughter he had so long searched for in vain.

             
She was hesitant, unsure for her doubts concerning William’s reactions were pressing on her mind.  He might be angry, yet how could she deny a man something that meant so much?

             
‘Perhaps I may be of help,’ she said, her breath catching so that she sounded nervous even to her own ears.  ‘Just now as I passed the goldsmith’s shop I saw a knight and a lady.  I saw her face for one moment but I could swear that it was Beth.’

             
‘Beth here in Winchester?’  The blood drained from William’s face and she saw his hands clench at his sides.  ‘Not alone you say?’

             
Lord Tomas moved towards her, his expression eager.  ‘You saw a lady you thought might be Beth?’ he said.  ‘Where is this shop?  Is it close by?  Will you show me?’

             
‘Yes, if you wish…’ Ruth faltered as she saw the look of pain in William’s eyes.  She almost wished that she had not spoken but she could not let such a chance pass.  Lord Tomas had the right to know that his daughter was here in Winchester.  ‘It is but a short distance away.  They entered the goldsmith’s shop while the squire and groom waited outside with the horses.  I dare say they may still be there if you hurry.’

             
‘Please, take me at once.  Tell me all that you know about this knight – what he looked like, what arms he bears.  If they have gone I may yet find them for they will not go far.’

             
‘The knight’s squire wears his lords colours – a white shield with a black raven.’  She heard William’s gasp and looked at him.  ‘You know him?’

             
‘I know of a knight who bears those arms – Sir Raoul D’Avignon…’  William nodded.  ‘Fool that I am!  I should have known that it must be he she met in my woods.  I told him to ride that way….’ His lips were white with fury.  ‘Damn his black soul to hell!  If he hath harmed her I shall kill him.

             
Ruth glanced back and saw the anger in his face, but Lord Tomas was hurrying her outside.  He was on fire with the need to find Beth before she disappeared once more.  Yet as she saw the look in William’s eyes, Ruth felt cold.  He was so angry.  She could only pray that the knight had taken his lady and gone, because if they were there when William reached the goldsmith’s she did not dare to think what might happen.

             
What had she done?

Fifty Nine

Beth looked at the heavy gold chain, which was set with rubies and pearls and so costly and expensive that she hardly dared to touch it.  The merchant had spread it on a bed of black velvet and she stroked it with one finger, then, knowing that he waited for her answer, raised her eyes to Raoul’s shyly.

             
‘Surely it is too much, my lord?’ she said in a soft husky voice.  ‘I have never seen such a beautiful thing.  There are others that would please me, beautiful things that would not cost so much.’

             
‘Nothing is too good for you,’ Raoul said and took the chain, placing it over her neck so that it nestled against the cream of her skin where the bodice of her silk gown dipped.  ‘Yes, it becomes you well.  We shall take this, Joseph.  You may deduct its price from the funds you hold for me.  I shall want a ring with a ruby of equal worth - have you such a thing?’

             
‘Not here, my lord.  I think I have just the ring you desire but it is put away safely for it is priceless.  If you come again tomorrow I shall have it ready for you to see.’

             
‘Have it ready this afternoon.  Take the size of my lady’s finger.  We are to wed tomorrow and I must have the ring by then.’

             
The goldsmith bowed low.  ‘My lord honours me.  I shall have the ring this afternoon.’

             
‘Good.’  Raoul turned to look at Beth.  ‘Have you seen anything else you would like, my love?’

             
‘I have more than enough,’ she replied and laughed.  ‘I am not used to such precious things, Raoul.  You make me a fine lady.  I fear you may be disappointed for I am but a simple woman.’

             
‘You were born to be a lady,’ he said and flicked her cheek with his fingers.  ‘You have natural dignity and pride, my love.  Besides, I believe that Marthe wronged you when she took you for her child.  You never belonged in such a life.’

             
‘Do you know something I do not?’ Beth asked as she rose from the chair where she had been seated to examine the goldsmith’s fine wares.  ‘You have spoken of my being a lady before this.’

             
‘Someone once told me of a child stolen at a King’s whim and then lost,’ Raoul told her and smiled.  ‘At the time I thought nothing of it but I believe you might be that child.’

             
‘Do you know who my parents were?’  She looked at him, suddenly eager.

             
‘Perhaps.  In time I may discover more.’

             
Beth took his arm, gazing up at him as they left the merchant’s house together, a smile on her lips.  ‘I should like to know them, though I have you now.  I love you, Raoul.  Even if we found them…’

             
They had emerged into the street and stood by their horses for a moment.  Raoul was about to put her up behind the groom when they heard a commotion and she turned her head.  Seeing a small group just across the street she stared because they were pointing and gesticulating at her.  Her heart caught with fear.  Had someone recognised her?  Was she about to be denounced as a witch?

             
‘There he is!  That’s him,’ someone cried and a man came rushing at Raoul, his sword in his hand.  ‘Damn you, D’Avignon.  You cheating devil.  She was mine and you stole her from me…’

             
‘William, stop!’ a woman cried.  Beth looked and saw Ruth.  Someone else was behind her but she did not know him.   ‘Lord Tomas, stop him…I beg you…’

             
Beth’s heart caught as she saw that Raoul had turned to meet his assailant.  He was wearing his sword at his side and he drew it, but before he could defend himself, William struck a blow that sent him reeling into the middle of the street.

             
‘No!  Please no,’ Beth whispered. She watched, paralysed by fear as the two men began to fight.  ‘This is madness…madness.  Stop!  Please stop them someone.’

             
Ruth had come to her.  She caught Beth’s arm as she would have run into the street to try and stop the fight.  ‘No, you can do nothing.  William is beside himself with grief and anger.  Let them fight it out.  I think this was bound to happen.  He thinks Sir Raoul stole you from him.’

             
‘You know that is not true.  I would have wed him if he had not…’  She gave a cry of despair as she saw first William and then Raoul stagger when caught by a heavy blow.  ‘They will kill each other…please stop them.  I love Raoul…’  Tears ran down her face.  ‘Do not let them fight.  I cannot bear it if…’

             
Beth watched in agony as the fight grew fiercer.  William had hurt her but she would not see him dead for her sake.  Yet it would break her heart if Raoul were killed or badly wounded.  Why must they fight like this?  It was so foolish but neither took notice of her pleas to stop the fight.  William claimed she was his by right and Raoul was intent on punishing him for what he had done to her.  Tears were on her cheeks.

             
‘It does not matter,’ she whispered.  ‘I have forgot it…please do not fight for me.’

             
It seemed that both men were skilled warriors and each intent upon killing the other.  Evenly matched, the fight went first one way and then the other.

             
‘Please God do not let him be killed.’ Beth cried, tears upon her cheeks.  ‘I love him so…’

             
‘I will stop them, lady,’ Raoul’s squire said and ran forward, a heavy broad sword in his hand.  He ran between them, trying to intercede and stop the fight, but was thrust back out of the way by his lord.

             
‘Out of my way, Cedric,’ Raoul muttered.  ‘Interfere in this and I’ll kill you too.’

             
The squire hesitated, then stepped back, clearly afraid to anger his lord.  Beth sobbed as Ruth put an arm about her waist.

             
Neither man was wearing chain mail, just a leather jerkin, short tunic and hose covered by a cloth surcoat.  Beth’s fear was warranted, for one good thrust of a sword might be a  killing blow.

             
‘No,’ she wept.  ‘Please do not let him die.’

             
The stranger who had accompanied Ruth, looked at her.  ‘I shall try to stop them,’ he said and stepped out into the street, crying out in a loud voice.  ‘I command you to cease this fight in the name of His Majesty the King.’

             
‘Get out of my way or I’ll kill you,’ William muttered as Tomas attempted to catch his arm.  ‘She belongs to me…I’ll see him dead for what he’s done…’  He thrust Tomas aside, making him stumble and fall to his knees as the fight continued once more.  The heavy blows and the sound of metal steel clashing made Beth tremble with fear as the fight went first one way and then the other.  William had the advantage of his weight and muscle but Raoul was skilled, the two so evenly matched that it was hard to see which way it would go.

             
Unable to bear it longer, Beth tore herself from Ruth’s grasp.  She ran towards the men, crying out to them to stop.  Raoul faltered.  He turned his head for an instant and in that moment William struck.  His sword went below Raoul’s raised arm entering his chest.  Raoul cried out and staggered back.  He let his own sword fall to the ground and, placing both hands on the hilt of William’s sword, pulled it out.  For a moment he stared at it and then threw it down.  He looked at William in surprise, as if he could not believe what had happened, and then sank to his knees, falling forward on to his face.

             
‘Raoul, my love, my love,’ Beth cried and threw herself down beside him.  She was sobbing as she struggled to turn him over and then the stranger was there, helping her.  ‘Please do not die.  If you die I cannot bear it.  My love, my love…’  She ran her hands over his face, imploring him not to die.

             
‘Beth…forgive me.  I didn’t know…’ William’s voice was a cry of anguish but Beth did not turn her head to glance at him.  ‘I lost my head…you were mine…’

             
At that she looked up.  ‘I was never yours,’ she said coldly.  ‘You hurt me twice.  He was my true love, the father of my child.  I can never forgive you for what you have done this day.  I pray that you will never know a moment’s peace for the rest of your life.’

             
William gasped, a queer blind look in his eyes as he backed away and then strode off, pushing his way through the onlookers.

             
Ruth knelt on the dirt beside Raoul.  ‘He is badly wounded but not dead,’ she said.  ‘Where can we take him?  I must bind his wound.  We may save him if ‘tis possible.’

             
‘Bring him to my house,’ a deep voice said and Ruth looked up and smiled as she saw Sir Michael.  ‘I will have the servants prepare a bed.’

             
‘Thank you, sir,’ Ruth said.  She looked at Lord Tomas and Raoul’s squire.  ‘Can you carry him to Sir Michael’s house?  ‘Tis not far from here.  I must bind him and treat his wounds.’

             
‘I doubt he will live,’ the squire said.  ‘He bleeds too much.  The wound is deep and will have injured him internally.’

             
‘We must try,’ Beth said and looked at Ruth.  ‘Thank you for helping us.  I can nurse him with herbs and balms, but I think you know more of what must be done here than I.’

             
‘We shall need the help of a surgeon,’ Ruth said and called to the groom.  ‘Fetch a surgeon to your master, sirrah.  Tell him to come to the house of Sir Michael Daltry.’

             
The groom had dismounted and was being directed by the crowd.  Raoul’s squire, Tomas and another man were carrying Raoul between them.  He was bleeding profusely and his eyes were closed.  Beth wiped a hand over her eyes to stop the tears, smearing Raoul’s blood on her face.  She walked beside them as Ruth reached for her hand, holding it tightly.

             
‘He was going to wed me tomorrow at the cathedral,’ she said.  ‘He had just bought me my wedding gift.  I loved him so much, Ruth.’

             
‘You must not give up hope,’ Ruth said.  ‘He lives yet, dearest.  We can but try to save him.’

             
Beth nodded, but inside she was icy cold.  She had known that her happiness was too bright to last.  She had known that a shadow lay across their lives, a shadow that had been there from the first.  It had hovered at Raoul’s shoulder the first time she saw him ride by and she had sensed his bitter angry grief.  He had given her more love in a few days than she had known for most of her life, but the feeling of dread was seeping through her bones.

The candle flickered and night was upon them when Beth heard the deep sigh.  Raoul had not stirred since the surgeon tended his wound and she and Ruth bound his chest, but as she bent over him, she saw that his eyes were open.

             
‘Raoul my love,’ she whispered, emotion choking her.  ‘Lie still, my dearest.  You have lost so much blood.  The surgeon says you must rest for the wound is deep.’

             
His fingers moved but he had not the strength to take her hand.  She took his hand between hers, holding it gently, her heart breaking as she saw the effort it cost him to speak.

             
‘Forgive me…’ he said and the words were a harsh whisper she could scarcely hear.  ‘I loved you…remember I loved you…’

             
‘You cannot leave me,’ she said and the tears were on her cheeks.  She leaned closer to touch his face and kiss his brow.  ‘You must rest and then you will recover.  You must get better because I love you, I need you so.’

             
‘No…it cannot be,’ he said.  ‘I have suffered wounds before and I know that this one will mean my death.  Do not weep for me, Beth.  I am not worth your tears.’

             
‘Do not say it.  You blame yourself for her death but she was the evil one.’

             
She felt the slight pressure of his fingers.  ‘You do not know it all, sweet lady.  I would have a priest to hear me confess my sins.  Please, grant me this if you love me.’

             
‘Yes, of course.’  Beth glanced across the room.  Ruth was sitting silently in the corner.  At an imploring look from Beth she got up and went out.  ‘The priest will come and hear you, but you will recover…you must.’

             
‘No, I shall die,’ he said.  ‘Listen, my love, for I have not long.  I believe you to be the daughter of Lord…’  he broke off as a choking fit caught him and she saw that his lips were speckled with blood.

             
‘Hush,’ Beth whispered and bent to kiss him.  ‘Save your breath.  It does not matter.  Nothing matters to me now.’