Children of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book Four) (10 page)

Evan hurried through the main door that would take us into the great hall. “It’s time, my lord.”

“Thank you.” I held out an arm to Lili, who took it. We entered the hall and walked down the aisle between the tables, under the eyes of the castle residents who would remain behind. In the bailey, a small escort of my men sat at attention in their saddles. I nodded to them, helped Lili onto her horse, and mounted mine.

Spurring Cadfarch, I led the way through the barbican. Once outside, we collected the rest of my men and the servants, who were clustered to one side, mounted and leading pack horses. Our entourage would not include drawn carts for this journey because they were too slow. All in all, we had a force of one hundred fighting men and twenty retainers. Hard to think about so few of us facing three million English.

We crossed the Wye River at Tintern Abbey and headed northeast. The rain from the night before had ended, which made the ride more pleasant, though a chill wind whipped the air. The countryside was lush and beautiful, even in late fall. To my eyes, England and Wales were nothing less than a country-sized park and I never tired of the green.

One half of my brain constantly scanned the road on either side looking for threats, even though my scouts were well-trained. The other half maintained my conversation with Lili. The coming baby occupied our thoughts and we were a long way from settling on a name that was acceptable to both of us.

“My lord!”

The entire company jerked at the shout. Ahead of us, the road went straight for a mile, before climbing into hills on the other side of the valley below us. At the crest of the opposite hill, visible amongst the leafless trees, a company of men waited. Sunlight glinted off their armor and the points of their pikes.

“They’ve at least, fifty, my lord,” Evan said. “The Mortimer banner flies above them.”

That I could see for myself. I didn’t rebuke my captain for stating the obvious, though. Instead, I gritted my teeth and acknowledged my disappointment. We hadn’t gotten even a day into England and already Roger Mortimer, or at least his men, rode against us? Clare and Bohun had insisted they would see to our safety from the moment we crossed the border into England. It seemed they had underestimated the hatred of those who opposed us. Roger Bigod was dead, but William de Valence and Roger Mortimer were very much alive. As Bevyn had pointed out, they would prefer that I vanish from the face of the earth.

“Formation!” Evan barked the order, but my men were already moving; the instruction was hardly necessary. The men with pikes went to the front and would lead the charge. I’d reconciled myself to the knowledge that in this kind of skirmish, my men would insist on keeping me to the back.

I didn’t object. I had Lili to protect and had no interest in dying on an Englishman’s sword, today or any day. I had no need to prove my manhood by giving them the chance to kill me.

I glanced at Bevyn out of the corner of my eye. He had moved closer to Lili and we sandwiched her between us. We fell to the rear of the fighting force, with our servants even farther back—twenty yards farther now and losing ground—with only three men to protect them. That left the soldiers in the company free to focus on our enemy ahead.

They weren’t exactly rusty, either. It had only been a few months since August and the fight in the Estuary. Nobody had forgotten how to fight, or what it felt like. Blood pounded in my ears and I clenched Cadfarch’s reins in my left hand and the hilt of my sword in my right. With our greater numbers, we had the advantage. We would find the perfect spot on the heights to defend, forcing them to ride through the valley and charge up our hill to reach us.

“They’ve stopped.” Lili stood in her stirrups, straining to see the company ahead.

She was right. As we watched, three riders broke away from the bulk of the Mortimer force. One held the Mortimer flag, which streamed behind them.

“It’s Edmund Mortimer himself,” I said.

“Christ on the cross,” Bevyn said. “Give us a little warning next time.”

I would have smirked if Lili hadn’t held a hand to her heart. My own heart beat so fast I could barely hear Bevyn’s curse.

“After last summer, I hoped never to participate in a cavalry charge again,” Lili said. “I’m glad I won’t have to see one today.”

I put a hand on her arm and squeezed. “Me too.” Shaking my head at how long it was taking my pulse to slow, I spurred my horse. My men parted to allow me to pass through them, and I picked up Evan and Carew on the way to the front of the line. Once the three of us were in the lead, the rest of my men followed us into the valley. Near the central and lowest point between the hills, we met Edmund and his two men.

“My lord.” Edmund bowed his head.

“You surprised us,” I said, seeing no reason to hide the fact. “I hadn’t realized you planned to meet us on the road today.”

“I
hadn’t
planned to meet you on the road,” Edmund said. “I intended for you to find us waiting at the ford of the Wye so we could escort you into England. We were—” his chin firmed “—delayed.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “What happened?” I matched his flat tone and matter-of-factness.

“Before we set out this morning, we had word of an ambush prepared for you.” Edmund gestured to the east. “Further into England.”

My hands clenched around the reins, and then I forced myself to relax. “Was the information accurate?”

“Five miles to the east, enemy archers squatted in a roost,” Edmund said. “They loosed arrows at my men when they approached, and then they fled. My men are combing the woods for them now, but—”

“But you don’t expect to capture them,” I said, as aware as Edmund that woodsmen who knew the ground could easily disappear into their own forest. Edmund wouldn’t discover their identity unless one of the archers’ own betrayed them.

“How are your men?” I said.

“Two are dead, another gravely wounded,” Edmund said. “The deaths and the difficulty in approaching the blind held my men back and allowed the cowards to escape.”

I nodded. As in the modern world, a committed assassin was the most difficult threat against which to defend. Short of hiding in my castle and never leaving, I had no recourse but to be as unpredictable in my movements as I possibly could. Unfortunately, this trip into England was the most predictable journey I had ever made.

“I’m sorry for your losses.” I held out a hand to Edmund and he took my forearm. “Thank you.”

“It was no more than our duty, but I appreciate your thanks,” Edmund said.

“Do you know which lord might have ordered the attack?” I said.

“How can I say for sure, when my own brother is a prime suspect,” Edmund said, “and Valence’s castle at Goodrich is a stone’s throw from here?”

He had a point. “Are your men prepared to join mine?” I said.

“Of course.” Edmund turned his horse’s head and we rode up the hill to where his men waited. I helped Lili off her horse and we rested while our men sorted themselves into a combined company. When we set off down the road again, Lili and I were in the center of the riders as before, but now Edmund rode on my right. It was the position usually reserved for the most trusted man in a lord’s company, because it was Edmund’s shield, held in his left hand, that would protect my right side if I was beset.

“We should ride as quickly as our horses allow,” Carew said from a few paces ahead.

Edmund glanced at me. “I imagine that is your plan for the next three days.”

“How many men scout the fields on either side of us?” I said.

“A dozen,” Edmund said.

“Good,” I said. “Mind they don’t see the bows on the backs of my scouts and take them for the enemy.”

“They won’t.”

I had meant what I said as something of a joke, but Edmund was deadly serious. He had lost two men today and my jaunt into England was looking more perilous by the hour. Now, England didn’t appear as much like a park as county fair, and this road was the shooting gallery.

With fifty more riders than before, and able to ride only four abreast on the narrow road, we were vulnerable all along our length. Evan shared leadership with Edmund’s captain, riding side by side at the head of the company. He had been working on his English (as had Bevyn), and spoke it well enough to communicate, albeit with a strong Welsh accent.

We kept going, past noon and into the afternoon. “It would have been better if William had married Joan in any other town but London,” Bevyn said. He rode on my left, on the other side of Lili.

“Better for whom?” I said. “Other than us, that is.”

“Everyone,” Bevyn said. “London is too big a city in which to protect you—or anyone else—properly. We may be staying at Westminster Palace, but the moment we leave the grounds, we’re too exposed.”

“Though inside, we’re too enclosed,” Carew said. “Do you realize how many servants and court attendants enter and leave the palace every day? It’s impossible to inspect, or even begin to control, all of them. On top of which, you will have only a handful of us around you there.”

Bohun had invited Lili and me to stay at Westminster, which Dad and I had decided was an invitation we couldn’t refuse. Clare was housing the rest of my people at his castle of Baynard. “Given that we own no property in London—an oversight I will remedy as soon as possible—we couldn’t have asked for a better situation than the one we’re in. Neither the Palace nor Baynard’s Castle is far from St. Paul’s Cathedral, and to have the wedding anywhere else would send the wrong message. Bohun knows that. It is where kings marry, and Bohun wants his son to be a king.”

“You should be the king instead, my lord,” Bevyn said.

I glanced at Edmund. We were speaking in Welsh, but he understood the language. Even so, his face remained impassive and he acted as if he hadn’t heard what Bevyn had said. I leaned across Lili and lowered my voice so only she and Bevyn could hear me. “Even if I wanted the throne, the people of England would never accept me. And what’s with the
my lords
all of a sudden, Bevyn? Usually you don’t use my title more than once every three days.”

“We aren’t in Wales anymore, my lord,” Bevyn said. “And I think you’re wrong about how the English feel about you. Did you notice how many people came out to see us pass through that village a mile back?”

“I noticed,” Edmund said, indicating that my attempt at whispering had done no good. “It is only your due, my lord.”

I straightened in my seat and bit my tongue on the words,
not you too
? The village had been a solidly English one, and yet we’d been greeted at the green by a delegation of townspeople, including the local burgesses. Instead of riding through without stopping as I’d intended, we’d stayed for half an hour. A girl had come forward and offered Lili a bouquet of dried flowers, while the headman of the village had personally brought me a cup of beer to drink and water for Cadfarch. Ironically, I was far more surprised by their hospitality than I’d been at the sight of Mortimer’s men. Fighting Englishmen was normal. Homage from them was not.

“You say that, Edmund, and it’s all very well and good not to be hated, but I’m having a hard time understanding why they would they treat me this way,” I said. “Isn’t it odd to have Englishmen bowing and scraping as if I wasn’t a Welsh rebel and upstart? Their king died because of me, for God’s sake.”

“Dafydd—” Lili said, objecting (as my father did) to me taking the name of the Lord in vain.

I put out a hand to her. “Sorry. But it’s not normal. Something isn’t right.”

“They love you here, too,” Bevyn said, “the ambush notwithstanding.”

“How have they even
heard
of me?” I said.

Bevyn shook his head. “It doesn’t have to be only bad news that travels quickly. There may be more of this as we get closer to London. You must prepare yourself for it.”

I coughed a laugh. “I find that highly unlikely.”

“Sir Bevyn is right, my lord,” Edmund said. “You have made an impression on the people of England, and not just because of the battles you’ve won. While a military victory makes for a fine tale around the fire in the evening, it isn’t skill on the battlefield that makes a great leader.”

“I do know that—” I said.

Edmund ignored the interruption. “In fact, if a man is forced to resort to violence to achieve his ends, whether in his own household, his estates, or his country, it’s an outward manifestation of how little power he wields and how tenuous is his hold over his people.”

“Edmund speaks the truth, my love,” Lili said. “Back at that village, they admired you before you arrived, but when you spoke to them in their own language, and honored their leaders, though you are a prince and they are common folk, they began to love you.”

Edmund nodded. “You have won the loyalty of the Welsh not through fear, but through love, wouldn’t you say?”

He was right (or I hoped he was right), but even so, I didn’t know how to answer him. A certain sector of the nobility would argue against Edmund’s assertion, insisting that love made a ruler weak.

“Lord Mortimer,” Lili said, “did you tell the people in that village that we were coming through today? Is that how they were prepared?”

“They already knew,” Edmund said. “Don’t ask me how. And I would add, my lord David, that to speak openly of your distrust of my people would offend many.”

Although Edmund spoke calmly, I was suitably chastised. “I apologize, Edmund. It won’t happen again.”

“We have only ever experienced grief from England,” Lili said. “Please understand that it may take time for us to accept adoration instead.”

 “The English are practical folk and no more blind to the truth than any men. We can see your husband’s nobility as well as any Welshman,” Edmund said.

I’d apologized, but I had offended Edmund. I cleared my throat, anxious to move on from this topic. “We’re going to London, we’re attending the wedding, and we’re coming home.” I gazed fixedly ahead, trying not to see the knowing looks that passed among my companions. “Nothing more. Is that clear?”

“And if the succession becomes a topic of conversation, in private or in council?” Bevyn said.