Fatal Truths (The Anarchy Medieval Romance) (19 page)

THE SOLDIER EASED ELAYNE to the side of the entryway, just inside the royal pavilion. “We are to wait here.”

Trembling, she raised her eyes to a
narrow path that led from where she cowered to a dais at the opposite end of the square pavilion. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a crowd of people who definitely were not soldiers. They occupied every inch of the space, except for the aisle.

Who were the
se men, dressed in fine clothes, fawning over the thin-faced woman who sat gripping the carved arms of the only piece of furniture? She wore layers of fine quality clothing, rendering it difficult to tell if she was fat or lean. Her scowling frown didn’t augur well.

The large wooden chair perched uncertainly
on an uneven dais Elayne suspected had been formed of clods of earth piled one on top of another. A muddied carpet had been thrown over the heap.

She shrank back into the protection of the tent flap, surmising
this was Maud, holding court in the Normandie countryside, perhaps with important personages of nearby towns and villages.

Behind her paced a scowling Geoffrey who evidently had not been afforded the privilege of a chair atop the
precarious dais.

She stood on tiptoe,
hoping to catch a glimpse of her children. Or perhaps they’d been carted off in irons. Then why had Maud summoned her?

The crowd silenced quickly when
a pale skeletal hand emerged from beneath the would-be Queen’s red cloak. She cleared her throat, peering down her long nose. “My cousin Stephen has put it about that I’m not fit to be Queen because I don’t know how to show mercy. Yet I’ve recently discovered the children you see here—”

Elayne craned her neck,
deafened by the beating of her heart. Maud could only be referring to—

“—are not who they purport to be.”

Oh God.

The crowd inhaled a collective breath
of shocked outrage.

Finally,
through a space between two broad shoulders, Elayne caught sight of her children standing beneath the outstretched wings of a falsely smiling Geoffrey. Henry was doing his best to appear confident. Claricia looked like she was in a trance.

Maud lowered her voice.
Predictably, the audience strained to hear. “Many of you will recall that I was sent to Germany as a child of eleven to marry the Holy Roman Emperor, a man of eight and twenty. Do you think I knew fear then?”

Nods and murmurs of agreement and sympathy
followed, but quieted when she raised her hand again.

“I am now a mother myself. Do you judge me capable of punishing these children for the transgressions of my ally, King
David?”

This
question was greeted by shouts of “Nay,” but it was evident from the puzzlement on many faces that most had no idea what she was talking about.

Maud gestured as if shooing away pesky flies. “What care I if David of Scotland has sent his eldest grandchildren or his youngest? Not a whit.”

At that precise moment, Elayne locked eyes with her son. He smiled imperceptibly.

He has convinced Maud of their value. She hasn’t realized they are illegitimate.

She feared her heart might burst with pride.

“Has their nanny been summoned?”

Geoffrey’s voice brought her back to reality and her quivering legs. She was thankful for the strength of her soldier who took her by the arm and escorted her forward. He nudged her to the ground. Her knees sank into the soft earth of the edge of the mud mound. As the cold damp seeped through her skirts, she hoped she wouldn’t be expected to produce words from the desert of her throat.

Maud
peered at her. “It is well past time for these children to be in bed. Gather them up and go. On the morrow we’ll decide where they’ll be sent.”

She rose from her knees and for the briefest of moments her eyes met Maud’s. It was impossible to discern what lay behind that cold gaze. She
looked away quickly.

Geoffrey raised his arms, releasing Henry and Claricia. They flew to
her. She longed to embrace them, but it would be deemed highly inappropriate. Instead she took hold of their trembling hands and led them from the pavilion.

~~~

FAOL’S DELIGHT at Henry’s return to their tent almost eclipsed her own relief. The dog lunged at her son, knocking him flat, then licked the boy’s laughing face. Eventually, after much tugging she was able to pull the hound off him, and the three lay on their backs, breathless and exhausted by subdued laughter. Faol sat back on his haunches, head cocked to one side seemingly confused by the sudden silence.

It reminded her of the nursery when they’d laughed with Alex.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she helped the children to their feet. “You seem to have convinced Maud of your validity,” she told her son.

“I was afraid,” Claricia admitted, “but Henry was brave.”

Henry was evidently as astonished at this rare praise from his sister as she was.

She ruffled her son’s hair. “How did you charm her Majesty?”

Henry shrugged. “I asked about her children.”

Again, Elayne thanked the saints her son had not inherited his father’s lack of wit.
“Very clever. Every mother wants to talk about her children.”

Claricia laughed and hugged her.
“She talked and talked. Her husband got impatient. Her son is called Henry too. She was more interested in telling us about him than about Grandpapa.”

How wonderful it was to hear her daughter
’s giggling laugh again. She only hoped it augured well for the future as they huddled together for warmth in the chilly air.

As she fell into a doze, it occurred to her that Maud and Geoffrey had never once looked each other in the eye.
Though they’d shown mercy, she shuddered at the thought of two people who obviously had no love for each other on the throne of England. Alex had made the right decision in withdrawing support from the Queen of the Mud Mound.

~~~

THE ORDER CAME EARLY IN THE MORNING for Elayne to ensure the children were ready to travel by midday. The friendly soldier lingered as the others marched off. He was a few years younger than her and she hoped he wasn’t starting to think she cared for him. She hesitated to start a conversation, but finally plucked up courage. “Do you know where they are taking us?”

He frowned, glancing around. “Anjou.”

Her legs turned to ice. Not only would they face a long, grueling journey, but once inside Geoffrey’s territory, there would never be any hope of a reunion with Alex.

“Her
Majesté
thinks the Scottish children will be good companions for her sons.”

Good grief! The Plantagenet boys were still babes. Claricia might enjoy playing with them, but Henry?

She was about to voice her opinion when the soldier became distracted by a commotion near the royal pavilion and he hurried off. She strained to see what was happening, but was too far away.

“What’s going on,
Maman
?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Stay here. Faol will protect you. Look after your sister until I return.”

The dog took up his position at the tent flap as she scurried out in the direction of the excitement.

She walked quickly from one tent to another, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, until she could see the
red and white striped royal pavilion. Maud stood in the entryway, back rigid, hands clasped, the heavy red cloak pushed back on her shoulders. Geoffrey had mounted and was heading out of the camp with two knights, shouting orders to his men-at-arms. There was so much noise and confusion, she couldn’t hear what he said. The mud had dried up and dust now swirled in the air as soldiers hurried here and there.

“What’s going on?” she asked out loud, almost jumping out of her skin when she received an answer.

“A meeting.”

She turned abruptly to see
Bianca sitting on an upturned cauldron in the shade of the tent. She was hunched forward, forearms resting on widely spread thighs, skinning a rabbit.

“Meeting?”
Elayne asked warily, her eyes fixed on the rabbit’s dead gaze.

The
cook scratched her wild black hair with the point of her dagger then indicated the direction Geoffrey had ridden. “Seems King Stephen’s come calling.”

Elayne glanced back quickly to the royal pavilion, but Maud had disappeared. No wonder she looked nervous and angry,
having believed Stephen ignorant of her location and the army she was amassing near Caen. There was only one way the King could have known—Alex.

Perhaps he was with the king. She had to get closer, but there weren’t very many women in the camp, and a woman walking alone would draw attention. She held out her hand to the
Genoan. “I’ve never seen a king, have you?”

Her new companion snorted. “The Angevin fancies himself a king, but—”

She grinned, revealing mostly toothless gums, though she couldn’t be much older than Elayne.

“Shall we see how close we can come?”

The woman’s eyes sparkled as she came to her feet. She dropped the rabbit, wiped her hands and the knife on her skirts, then linked her arm with Elayne’s. “I know the best place. Come with me.”

Careful not to
let her own hair touch Bianca’s, Elayne allowed the Genoan, still gripping her knife, to lead her past several tents to the outer perimeter of the camp. In the event, the soldiers rushing here and there paid them no heed.

“Crouch here,”
her companion croaked.

Elayne flattened herself to the ground, suddenly aware of a
n acrid odor. She gagged when she raised her head and saw they were lying next to the ditches dug as latrines. Bianca seemed impervious to the stench. Flies buzzed everywhere, but Elayne forgot the unpleasantness when Bianca pointed to a nearby field where Geoffrey and his knights faced three armored men, also on horseback, one of whom wore a golden coronet on his head.

Both knights who’d accompanied the king removed their helmets. The one on his right had silver hair. The other was
Alex de Montbryce.

The urge to leap to her feet and wave both arms over her head was overwhelming
, but she had to content herself with whispering his name into the malodorous air in the hopes he would know she was nearby.

GEOFFREY REMOVED HIS HELMET and thrust it at one of his companions, his face contorted with anger.

Alex was confident
they were far enough away that the Angevin wouldn’t hear his aside to the King. “His face is almost as red as his hair. I believe he’s annoyed we’ve discovered his ploy.”

Stephen
smirked a tight grin. “I think you’re right. Let’s see if we can rile him a bit more.”

Hoping for a glimpse of another redhead, Alex scanned the enemy tents as Stephen
coaxed his horse closer to his rival. Was Geoffrey using the same ruse he’d employed at Montbryce, or were these tents full of men?

The king ran his thumb and forefinger over his moustache.
“Well met, Geoffrey. How fares my cousin, Maud? Has she not joined you for this outing?”

Geoffrey struggled for composure. “Well met, indeed, Stephen. What a surprise to find you here in Normandie.”

Gallien leaned over to Alex. “I’ll wager it’s true he’s surprised, but not as much as he’s going to be.”

Alex smiled, but his heart was beating too fast. They had the numbers to dissuade Geoffrey from
his plan of attack, but there was no guarantee he’d surrender his hostages. Would Stephen push for their release, or simply consider it too trivial a matter to haggle over if the Plantagenets balked?

“I’m disappointed you haven’t come to Caen to do me homage as your king,” Stephen said.

The knight holding Geoffrey’s helmet glanced quickly at his
Comte
, then looked away.

“He’s going to have an apoplectic fit if he doesn’t breathe soon,” Gallien quipped.

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. “I might be in Caen sooner than you think, cousin.”

Alex was certain the Angevin must have heard Gallien’s
outburst. “Idiot! Stephen reeled him in like the bottom feeder he is.”

As if sensing he’d given away too much, Geoffrey thrust out his hand for his helmet. T
aken unawares, the knight holding it dropped it in the dust, spooking his horse. He looked in desperation to his glaring lord, obviously unsure as he regained control of his steed if he should dismount and retrieve it.

“If you’re planning to come to Caen,” Stephen said coolly, “I can assure you of a warm
reception.”

He turned
his head and nodded to Gallien, who put his helmet back on, looked towards the hills, drew his sword, and waved it.

The archers came over the brow of the hill—hundreds upon hundreds, bows drawn, a silent
, deadly host.

Geoffrey’s horse became
agitated. He reined it back under his control impatiently.

“His
steed has sensed its master’s turmoil,” Gallien murmured with a grin.

“You think to dissuade me with a few bowmen?” the Angevin shouted.

“
Non
, Geoffrey,” Stephen replied as if speaking to a child of five.

Gallien signalled again.
The infantry came over the brow of an adjacent hill, row upon row of well armed soldiers, the rays of the sun bouncing off their swords, shields, and lances.

“Do you want me to summon the cavalry, or have you seen enough?” Stephen asked calmly.

Geoffrey flared his nostrils. “Very well. You win the day.”

“And you will strike this camp and move it far away from Caen, let’s say to Anjou,” Stephen said without a trace of humor in his voice.
“If you do not, I will return and crush you.”

Geoffrey glared at the knight who’d dropped his helmet. The man dismounted quickly, retrieved it, and held it out to his
Comte
, who snatched it from him. “The camp will be struck.”

He was about to put on his helmet when Stephen spoke again. “And you will release the Scottish hostages to me.”

Alex’s heart skittered around inside his ribcage. Were they even still alive?

Geoffrey
’s helmet almost slipped from his gloved hands. He glanced quickly at Alex. “Is this your request or Montbryce’s?”

Stephen stared at him.

Geoffrey snickered. “What do you want with two small children who aren’t what they purport—”

He closed his mouth abruptly.

Sword still in hand, Gallien turned to Alex. “He has just figured out that if Stephen holds David’s grandchildren, he can perhaps persuade the Scottish king not to support Maud.”

Alex nodded. “And he’s also realized if he gives away that they are not who they say they are—”

They watched Geoffrey squirm, but Alex’s heart sank when the Angevin announced. “The question is moot. They’re already on their way to Anjou.”

Stephen turned to Alex, but at that moment their attention was drawn to a disturbance near the perimeter of the camp. A soldier was attempting to drag two protesting women
back into the camp.

One of the women was kicking the soldier
furiously, screaming in some foreign tongue as she slashed at him with a knife. The other woman pushed him. As he watched the soldier struggle for balance on the edge of a ditch it occurred to him there was something familiar about the second woman. The covering slipped from her head as the soldier grabbed at her hair—flaming red tresses he recognised immediately.

“He’s lying, Sire,” he shouted. “That
’s Elayne.”

Heedless of the danger
, he urged his horse towards the enemy camp as his beloved screamed, then shoved the teetering soldier into the ditch.

~~~

THE SOLDIER MUST HAVE PULLED OUT THE ROOTS OF ELAYNE’S HAIR. Tears blurred her vision. Breathless, she rubbed her tender scalp, blinking rapidly. Bianca had scrambled to her feet and was running back to the encampment, screaming at her. “Hurry, he’ll be angry.”

The
thud of hooves thundered in her ears. She turned to see Alex galloping to her rescue. But he was shouting something, waving frantically.

The furious barking of a dog made her swivel her head back in the direction of the tents. The breath left her lungs. Henry
had a firm grip on his sister’s hand as they ran towards her. Faol sprang back and forth behind them, lunging and snapping at a handful of pursuing soldiers.

She didn’t know what to do, which way to go. Safety lay with Alex, but she couldn’t abandon her children.

Alex’s shouts reached her ears as he galloped past her. “Run!”

H
e was risking his life by riding into the enemy camp to save her children. But if he succeeded, there’d be no room on the horse for her. She picked up her
playd
, lifted her skirts and set off running towards King Stephen and the silver haired knight, who had turned his horse and now kept Geoffrey and his companions at bay with his sword.

She urged her leaden feet to go faster, but the distant horsemen didn’t seem to get any closer.

She daren’t look behind her. If Alex failed she might lose him and her children.

~~~

ALEX NEVER TOOK HIS EYES OFF THE CHILDREN. They’d seen him and continued to run. For the moment Faol was holding off the pursuers, but a well-placed arrow would quickly dispatch the dog. He drew his sword, hoping one hand would be enough to get the children on his horse.

As he reined to a halt in a cloud of dust, Henry went down on one knee and meshed his fingers together. Claricia put her foot in his hands and he
shoved her up towards Alex. He got the distinct impression this wasn’t the first time they done this manoeuver. He grasped her hand and lifted her into the saddle. “Face me,” he shouted. “Hold on tight.”

He reached down to grasp Henry’s hand and
hoisted him up behind him. “Brave lad,” Alex shouted.

Henry clung to his doublet,
then turned to look back. “Faol, come.”

The wolfhound responded immediately and
ran to them as Alex wheeled his horse, catching a glimpse of bowmen running out of the encampment, taking aim. He sheathed his sword and urged his horse back to safety, praying the faithful dog would evade the arrows.

Despite the confusion and the thunderous beating of his heart, everything seemed to be taking place in complete silence, except for the
thwack of bowstrings. He glanced skyward, surprised to see a volley of arrows arcing above him. Surely they weren’t aiming at the King? He was too far away. Elayne had almost reached him.

He gritted his teeth, concentrating on
saving the children he loved. His heart exploded in his chest when only yards in front of him Elayne fell to her knees, then slumped forward, an arrow in her back.

~~~

PAIN CASCADED FROM ELAYNE’S SHOULDER into her aching legs, forcing her to her knees as the breath wooshed out of her lungs. She slumped forward on all fours. King Stephen had seemed so near. She heard the hoofbeats of Alex’s horse behind her. Yet somehow she couldn’t move, couldn’t go on.

She dug her fingers into the earth as everything tilted around her.
She fretted about what had happened to her
playd
.

P
ain blazed through her body like a river of fire.

Alex
called her name.

She slowly lifted her head. Visions swam before her blurry eyes. King Stephen kicked Geoffrey. The Angevin fell from his horse.
The silver haired knight transformed into an angel who took Henry and Claricia under his wings and rode off towards the hills.

Goodbye, my darlings. Don’t forget your Maman.

The sky was suddenly where the earth should have been. She was choking on dust, a metallic taste in her mouth. A wet tongue rasped along her cheek, she smelled dog breath, then Alex drifted into view. She thanked God for one last look at his beloved face. He was crying, murmuring something about removing an arrow. Had he been shot?

Don’t be sad. I love you.

She reached up to cup his face, screaming when a loud crack severed her arm from her body, pushing her into blessed blackness. She was lifted to heaven in Alex’s strong arms.