Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (5 page)

“Thank you,” she said.

“Cousin!”

Domina broke into a smile at hearing Joscelin’s voice.

Joscelin was about three years younger than her, but even at nineteen, he inspired a certain regard. He had gentle brown eyes that often seemed to look past the world into heaven.

She’d first met him when he came to live at Trumwell, after the death of his parents and sister from a plague. Though a skinny young child burdened with grief, he had an air of calm and purpose. As far as Domina was concerned, her cousin Joscelin was like a brother.

“I had no idea you were here in London!” he said, embracing her. He stepped back and gazed at her. “What business brings you so far from home?”

“A routine matter,” she said, not wishing to worry him. “I had to present myself at court and confirm the strength of our castle and garrison. It is done now, so I’ll return home as soon as I can. But I wanted to see you first!”

“I am glad to look on your face, cos,” he said. His voice dropped to a more confidential tone. “When they told me you were here, I feared the worst news. How is your father?”

“The same,” she said. “No worse, but no better.”

Joscelin sighed, and put one hand on her arm. “Dearest Mina, you’re doing all you can.”

“I only wish I could do more. Or do something else. The right thing.”

“Sometimes it is not given to us to know,” Joscelin said. “You are an ideal daughter, and you must continue to care for him just as you are. The Lord in his mercy and wisdom will guide you.”

Joscelin’s voice soothed Mina, and the words that once might have irked her now bolstered her instead.

“I hope you are doing well here,” she said, striving for a happier topic. “Both in your vocation and in this city! It’s nothing like what I expected—the city, I mean.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Something divine, with gleaming spires and broad streets and marvels from strange lands. The city has spires, but they’re half hidden by smoke. As for marvels…well, I can’t forget half of what I’ve seen, though I’d not call it marvelous. There are beggars everywhere, and the smells alone…”

He nodded. “It shocked me as well. There is much to be wary of.”

“So I learned. We were set upon by footpads the very evening we arrived.”

“God have mercy, Mina!” Joscelin looked incredibly upset. “What happened?”

“Be at ease—it was not as horrible as it might have been. Only moments after the footpads cornered us, two knights appeared and rescued us. God was watching out for me at that moment.” Though then God played the trick of making the knight an arrogant man who set her teeth on edge. But she didn’t mention that to Joscelin, nor the fact that she saw the very same knight again in the king’s court.

“In any case,” she continued, “the footpads would have been disappointed even if they’d completed their theft. I must look far richer than I am.”

“Do you need money?” Joscelin asked. “I have a little saved.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take your money!”

“Mina, you need it more than I do,” Joscelin argued. “I can work as a clerk, and I can always avail myself of the church’s generosity.”

Mina looked down, feeling unworthy. “It would help,” she admitted. “I feel so ashamed, though, to ask it of you.”

“You have not asked, I have offered.” Joscelin patted her arm. “I’ll fetch it now.”

He left and returned a few moments later. He pressed a small leather pouch into her hands. “Not much, just a bit of silver I’ve saved. It should defray the expense of this trip, at least.”

“You are far too good to me.”

“What is family for?” he asked. Then he added, “Never go round these streets alone, and not even with Giles after dark. The sooner you’re back safe behind the walls of Trumwell, the happier I’ll be. You must not risk yourself, a gentle lady like you!”

She laughed, wondering if Joscelin had any idea of how much she’d had to put aside the role of a “gentle lady” in order to run the estate in her father’s absence.

However, she promised to be careful. “And as I said, I intend to return home at the first possible moment. London is not for me!”

“You have discovered a truth about the world, dear cos,” Joscelin said, with a sad little chuckle. “Wherever people gather, there is much tendency toward vice and evil.”

“Just a few moments at the court showed me that,” she said. “I was lost among those who lived for politics and personal gain.”

He reached for her hand. “Be not forlorn. There is also much potential for good here, even among the worldly court of the king. Those knights you mentioned, for instance. They did their duty to protect an innocent, and they did not even know you.”

“That’s true. You never lose hope, do you?” She smiled at her cousin, reminded of the arrogant, blue-eyed knight. He
had
rushed in to save a stranger, after all, and he did escort her to safety afterwards. Perhaps she was judging him too harshly.

“Lose hope? Never,” Joscelin vowed. “I know how powerful hope is.”

“I will try to remember,” she said. “Will you pray for me?”

“Every day,” he promised. “And you must keep me informed, whether the news is good or ill.”

“I don’t like to distract you—”

He made a face. “Blood is not a distraction. It is who we are.”

Domina kissed her cousin goodbye and left. She and Constance made their way back to the inn, a man-at-arms following close behind. One thing was certain…Mina would not let her guard down again.

Luc watched as the intriguing
Domina de Warewic left the audience chamber, her back stiff and straight beneath that incredibly thick braid of red hair. The lady’s attendant followed her like a shadow.

After that, there were a few more exchanges with other postulants, none of which Luc heard. His mind was still locked on Domina. Why had she not announced her title the previous evening? Was she hiding something? Was her business in London simply an audience with the king, or did she have another reason to be in town? Why was she in the streets at such a late hour?

Luc came out of his daze when the king’s voice rang out, declaring an end to the audience of the day. He’d barely left the chamber when a page approached with a message. The king wished to see him. He followed the boy into another wing of the building where the king had his private quarters.

He was shown into a small chamber, decorated lavishly for its size. The walls were paneled in oak, a fire burned in the fireplace along one wall, and several candles were lit, lending a sense of warmth and luxury to the space.

Luc bowed when he saw the king seated at the table in the center of the room. At his right hand, another man sat.

Stephen motioned Luc forward. The page backed out and shut the door firmly.

“Have a seat. Take some wine,” Stephen said. “Have you met Drugo?”

Luc eyed the other man, and shook his head. “Not yet, your grace.”

“You’ve seen him, no doubt.” Stephen took a sip of wine, then continued, “Drugo serves as my eyes and ears, even in places where I am presumed to have no such senses. He is one of the reasons I had a court to return to after I was released from my imprisonment in Bristol.”

A spy. Luc didn’t need the word spoken out loud. He gave Drugo a closer look. The man was at least forty, more likely closer to fifty years of age. He had an ascetic look, as if he were a monk rather than a courtier. His tunic and hose were well made, but so plain as to be utterly forgettable. He wore no rings. Above the cowl of his tunic, his face was thin, with hollow cheeks and an angular jaw. He wore a short, sharply-pointed beard. Deep set eyes glittered in the candlelight, surveying Luc just as closely. In all, Drugo gave the appearance of a man not to be trifled with. Not a man to make into an enemy.

“If it’s important enough to tell me what Drugo is, then I presume there’s a reason you asked for me particularly, your grace,” he said to the king. “How can I serve you?”

“Drugo,” Stephen said, “give him the details of what you’ve learned.”

The spymaster drummed his fingers on the table once. “What I will tell you, my lord Luc, is in the strictest confidence.”

“He’s not an idiot, Drugo,” the king muttered. “Would I have asked for an idiot to carry out such a mission?”

“I will say nothing,” Luc promised quickly.

Drugo nodded. “I have received several reports from certain informants that, taken together, now point to a matter of great concern. In practice, the king relies upon the loyalty of the barons who have declared for him. Without that ring of defense, the army itself could never respond to every sally the empress dares to make. We need the barons and their vassals to hold their castles and other strongpoints. A gap could spell disaster.”

Luc nodded. Nothing so far counted as a secret. It was common knowledge.

“The matter is this,” Drugo continued. “There is a conspiracy among a small number of lords in the west, near the Welsh border. According to my sources, a few lords who publicly support the king have privately switched allegiance to the empress. They will
not
defend their castles when the empress’s forces march through their lands. Indeed, they will lend her support and allow her to march unimpeded into the center of England, even to London where she can potentially claim the crown.”

“If you know the names, then simply arrest these lords,” Luc said.

“We need solid proof of their treachery,” said Drugo. “Consider the situation. King Stephen must not appear to be anything less than scrupulous in his reaction. We cannot afford to lose the support of the nobles, and if they see what appears to be an arbitrary arrest, they may withhold their full support. If we arrest one of those we suspect, the others will hear of it and hide their tracks.”

“So I am to find the proof,” Luc guessed.

“Precisely,” Drugo replied. He was about to go on, but at a gesture from the king, he fell silent.

Stephen looked at Luc. “Tell me, what did you think of the lady Domina?”

The change in subject startled Luc, but he answered all the same. “Well spoken. Obviously quick witted, though out of her depth at court. Beautiful,” he added, though he was quite sure the king would see that for himself. “Should I have seen more than that?”

“Perhaps not,” the king muttered. “I did see that Domina does not want to be your bride!”

“She was furious,” Luc said, “but she covered it well.”

“And she thought fast! The role of the dutiful daughter...how could I have thwarted such a move, if I’d been serious and not in jest?”

Luc agreed. “She did not oppose you, she merely diverted you. Excellent defense.”

Stephen mused, “Imagine what a woman like that could do with an army during a war.”

“You asked about the defenses of her father’s castle,” said Luc. “You think she has war on her mind?”

“After meeting her, I’m not sure what to think.”

“Your grace,” Luc said, “there is obviously something that bothers you about her. What is it?”

“Her? Perhaps only the fact that she appeared at all. It was Godfrey I summoned, and for a very specific reason.”

“And that is?”

Here Drugo interrupted, clearly out of patience with the king’s aside. “Godfrey de Warewic is the likely ringleader of the conspiracy.”

Luc’s mouth dropped open. “The lady’s father? If he’s the de Warewic I heard about growing up, he took the cross and fought in the Holy Land!” He wasn’t naive, and he knew that not all crusaders were paragons, but something in Luc found it difficult to picture the glorious defenders of Jerusalem as the sort of men to engage in treason.

“So he did,” said Stephen, “and he’s sworn fealty to me, and my father before me. But he’s been very quiet of late…too quiet for my liking. The evidence of Drugo’s informants points directly to him.”

“What is the evidence?”

Drugo pulled out a silver coin, flipping it over his knuckles. The silver caught the light, mesmerizing Luc. “The family of de Warewic has long used the swan as their symbol. It even appears on Godfrey’s seal.”

Drugo tossed the coin toward Luc. He caught it easily. He looked at the coin’s face in surprise. It showed no king’s head, but instead the image of a swan.

“When Godfrey came back from the Holy Land, he bore with him spoils of war—the family is known to be wealthy, not in land, but in coin. He had silver and gold struck with the symbol of the swan. But he didn’t use his coins for usual trade, for he prided himself on not needing to do so. He kept them in his treasury in Trumwell Castle.”

“So why am I holding one?” Luc asked.

“No fewer than three of the empress’s agents in the west were captured while possessing some of these coins,” said Drugo. “I recognized the sign, and realized the significance of finding them in the field, you might say. Godfrey de Warewic would not spend this part of his wealth on petty purchases. However, he would use these coins as his way of sealing a pact—and if the empress’s people have these coins now, what else are we to assume…”

“But that he’s made a pact with them.” Luc frowned, flipping the coin over and over in his fingers. “Could it have been something more innocent?”

“Then he’d use ordinary coin,” Drugo said.