Beast: Great Bloodlines Converge (37 page)

It was dawn over the Berkshire countryside as the veil of night slowly lifted, revealing the lovely summer day ahead.

Wallingford Castle was a massive structure with concentric walls and berms for defense. The soldier who knew the layout had failed to impress just how big the place was so Bastian took about an hour inspecting the size of the castle before reforming his original plan. There were distinct entrances to the castle and unless Suffolk planned to catapult Thomas over the walls to aid in his escape, the best course of action would be for Bastian’s men to cover the obvious entrances.

Arriving on the second day after leaving Braidwood, Bastian’s three hundred man army had been positioned around Wallingford’s four main entrances just before sunrise, holding strategic places so that de la Pole, if he was still at Wallingford, could not slip through their net. Wellesbourne positioned his siege engines in full view of the castle but far enough away so the inhabitants knew they were not an immediate threat. They were a warning. And that was how Bastian wanted it.

Just after sunrise, Henry sent Aramis to the gatehouse of Wallingford with a message for Suffolk. The guards at the gatehouse were rather puzzled by this army who had descended upon them overnight and when the Duke of Warminster appeared and asked to speak with Suffolk on behalf of King Henry, their confusion increased but they dutifully went in search of their liege.

He hadn’t been hard to find. William de la Pole, 4
th
Earl of Suffolk, had been watching the army from his window in the keep of Wallingford but he wasn’t confused like the rest of them. He suspected who had come, especially when his brother, Thomas, had run about in a panic. William had been forced to slap his brother and sit him in a chair.

Suffolk had made it back to Wallingford Castle hardly an hour before the army appeared on the horizon. At first, he hadn’t known whose army it was that approached his castle but he wasn’t surprised to see the banners of Bastian de Russe being mounted by the standard bearers once they drew closer. His discussion with Gloucester the day before had tipped him off that de Russe was on the hunt for his brother, Thomas, so when the army began to settle in the distance, William knew why. And he was prepared.

De Russe
, went the whispers as Suffolk made his way to the gatehouse. He knew why de Russe was here. Not only had Gloucester told him about the event at the Tower involving his brother and Lady de Russe, but his brother had told him about the incident nearly the moment he arrived home. Truth be told, Suffolk didn’t like his brother any more than de Russe did but because he was, in fact, his brother, Suffolk was obligated to protect the man. It was coming to be a strenuous task.

As he passed through the two inner baileys and into the outer ward where the main gatehouse was located, his men began to shout to him that the Duke of Warminster had arrived to speak with him. Knowing that Warminster was de Russe’s uncle, Suffolk ordered both inner baileys locked up while ordering the main gate to be opened for Warminster. Standing in the outer ward as the great portcullis was lifted, he waited patiently for Warminster. He couldn’t say that he was looking forward to the meeting.

Aramis wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, either. He had truthfully never been to Wallingford and he was very impressed with the size of it. He also knew that it would be impossible to breach with only three hundred men. Even for three thousand men it would be a grand undertaking. As he passed beneath the massive portcullis of the giant two-storied gatehouse, he caught sight of Suffolk in the ward beyond. He headed in the man’s direction.

As Aramis drew close, Suffolk lifted his eyebrows in a somewhat dubious expression. “My lord,” he greeted. “I would welcome you to Wallingford, but I do not believe you are here to partake of my hospitality.”

Aramis’ expression was equally dubious. “As much as I would like to, I am afraid business comes before pleasure,” he said. “Nasty business, you know. I wish it was otherwise.”

Suffolk nodded in resignation. “Gloucester told me what happened between my brother and Bastian’s wife,” he said. “God’s Teeth, Warminster, I did not even know Bastian had a wife. Now I find that I must deal with the outrage of the entire House of de Russe because of my stupid brother. Gloucester said that Bastian wanted me to turn my brother over to him. Does that still hold true?”

Aramis shook his head. “It is not Bastian’s message I bear but King Henry’s,” he said. “The king is riding with us. He has instructed me to tell you to turn your brother over to Bastian or he will take Wallingford from you. I am afraid it is just that simple.”

Suffolk clapped a hand to his forehead, wearily rubbing his eyes. When he stopped rubbing, he spoke. “Damn Thomas,” he hissed. “I sent him to court to get him away from me, you know. Now he is back where I do not want him, here, with
me
. I will gladly turn him over to Bastian but I want to speak with the man first. Will you bring him to me?”

Aramis cocked a doubtful eyebrow. “Given the circumstances, I am sure you will understand that Bastian will not set foot inside of Wallingford,” he said. “Better you come to him.”

Suffolk nodded wearily. “Lead the way.”

Aramis and Suffolk headed back to Bastian’s encampment, passing beneath the big gatehouse of Wallingford and over the moat that was the biggest moat Aramis had ever seen. With the day already warming in late August, it stunk terribly. Once they passed over the drawbridge, Bastian’s tent was about a quarter of a mile to the west and they could see it easily, nestled in a field of pale green grass.

No guards, no armies, no weapons. This was a man to man discussion. Aramis and Suffolk left the road and trudged through the grass to get to Bastian’s tent, hardly speaking a word between them. It was serious business they faced and no one wanted to make light of it. Upon reaching Bastian’s tent, Aramis pulled the heavy flap back for Suffolk and ushered him inside.

Bastian wasn’t there but Henry and Brant were. They were seated at a folding table that had a map on the surface, studying the map. The young king was very interested in what Brant was showing him but he glanced up when he saw movement in the doorway, momentarily blocking out the light. When the king realized that it was Suffolk, he stood up.

“Well?” he demanded. “Did you bring Thomas?”

Suffolk was rather stumped by the demand, looking to Aramis, oddly enough, for support. “Nay, Your Grace,” he replied. “He is in the castle. I have come to speak with Bastian.”

Henry frowned. “I told you to give Thomas to Sir Bastian,” he said. “You will bring him right away.”

Suffolk sighed. “I will, Your Grace,” he said. “I simply wanted to find out what Bastian planned to do in order to punish him.”

Henry’s firm demeanor backed down somewhat. He could see that Suffolk was wary. “Are you afraid he will kill him?” he asked.

Suffolk lifted his eyebrows. “Frankly, I am,” he replied. “As much as my brother deserves to be punished, I do not want to deliver him to his death.”

The young king thought on that a moment. He turned to look at Brant, who had been his close companion since leaving Braidwood two days ago. Brant was a very big man, but he had been very kind to Henry, much as Braxton had been. Henry was coming to like the de Russe men in general very much because they treated him with respect and dignity, something he’d not experienced much of. Most of the men around him tried to control him but the de Russe men did not. He trusted them.

“What do you think, Sir Brant?” Henry asked the knight. “Do you think Sir Bastian will kill Sir Thomas?”

Brant gazed steadily at the king. “That is hard to say, Your Grace, but I do not believe so,” he said. “Mayhap the moment it happened, he might have, but now that time has passed and he has been allowed to cool, mayhap he will not kill him. But I do not know for certain. You will have to ask Bastian.”

Henry’s brow furrowed as he considered the serious problem. “I do not like violence,” he said. “I would rather see this come to a peaceful conclusion.”

Brant glanced at Aramis and Suffolk before replying. “I am sure we all would,” he said. “But we must ask Bastian. It is he who has been wronged, after all.”

Henry was still thinking on the situation. He turned to Suffolk and Aramis. “You will bring Sir Thomas and I will tell Sir Bastian that he cannot kill him,” he told Suffolk. “I will order him not to and he cannot disobey. You will go and bring Thomas now.”

Suffolk actually felt much better about the situation at that point. If Henry ordered Bastian not to kill his brother, then Henry was correct – Bastian would have to comply. Relieved, he bowed to the king and headed back to Wallingford to collect his troublemaking brother. After Suffolk departed, Henry turned to Aramis.

“You will find Sir Bastian and tell him to come to me,” he said. “Tell him that Suffolk is bringing his brother and that Sir Bastian cannot kill him. I do not think a man should be killed for such a thing as hitting a woman. He should not have done it, but he does not deserve to die because of it.”

Aramis, too, bowed respectfully to the king before quitting the tent in search of his nephew, who last he saw was gathering with his knights. Once Aramis was gone, Henry turned his attention back to Brant.

“Do you think it is right to tell Sir Bastian not to kill Sir Thomas?” he asked. “Sir Bastian is very angry at Sir Thomas for striking his wife but I do not believe Sir Thomas should be killed for it.”

Brant gazed down at the boy who was trying hard not only to understand the minds of men, but to make decisions for them. It was so much more complicated than ordering one man not to kill another, but in Henry’s mind, it was something he’d not come to understand yet. He still had a lot of learning to do on the ways of men. Brant shrugged faintly.

“I cannot say how Bastian will feel, Your Grace,” he said. “But I believe your decision is a sound one.”

“Why?”

“Because if Bastian kills Thomas, there will forever be bad blood between Bastian and Suffolk. No one wants that.”

Henry felt more confident in his decision now. “The men who serve me must learn to get along with each other,” he said. “But Sir Thomas caused the problem. I will send him away.”

Brant thought that was a reasonable decision. “That would be wise, Your Grace.”

Henry looked at him, surprised. “I am wise?”

Brant smiled faintly. “You are most certainly learning to be, Your Grace.”

Happy, and feeling proud, Henry returned to the map on the table that he and Brant had been studying. It was a map of Berkshire and the surrounding countryside and he was learning a great deal about his landholders there.

Meanwhile, outside the tent, one of his landholders, one Sir Bastian de Russe, was not particularly happy with the wisdom of his young king.

“He
what
?” Bastian nearly bellowed.

Aramis put his hand on the man’s arm to calm him down. “Henry has ordered you not to kill Sir Thomas,” he repeated. “He promised Suffolk. He told the man if he produced his brother, he promised that you would not kill him. You cannot go against his wishes, Bastian, so you may as well live with it.”

Bastian was glaring at his uncle as if wanting to throttle the man but he knew he was only carrying out the king’s wishes. Bastian had been standing in his circle of knights when Aramis had approached so all of the knights, including Wellesbourne, heard the king’s decree through Aramis’ lips. Andrew even put his hand on Bastian’s arm in a soothing gesture or, more truthfully, took hold of him so he would not slug his uncle out of sheer outrage.

“You did not want to kill Thomas, anyway,” Andrew said to Bastian. “If you did, you and Suffolk would forever be at odds and that would not bode well for anyone.”

Bastian turned to him, scowling. “So now I have the child-king declaring his wishes and I am not permitted to seek justice for what de la Pole did to my wife,” he snapped. Seeing the expression on Wellesbourne’s face, he realized that he sounded like a madman so he took a deep breath and struggled to calm. “I suppose Henry’s decisions worked well enough for me when they were in my favor, however. Still, this does not make me happy. Not in the least.”

Aramis clapped him on the shoulder. “Let us retreat to your command tent,” he said. “Suffolk will bring his brother there.”