Knight's Honor (12 page)

The earlier conversation circled round and round in Hereford's mind as he tried to determine whether he was afraid or whether the premonition of disaster was a warning that came from outside himself. Nothing new had been added to his knowledge of the situation because Gaunt had come in tired, eaten, and gone straight off to bed. Radnor, cajoled into eating by his wife after something of the situation had been explained to her by Hereford, had uttered hardly a word beyond monosyllabic replies to his father's questions and now that Lady Leah had left the table seemed to be almost in a stupor. Finally Hereford let the goblet rest.

"Radnor."

"What?"

"I swear it is not that."

"Not what?" the big man asked irritably.

"I am afraid, it is true, but no more than I have been all my life and of no new things. Death, pain—these things, as you say, I, like all men, fear. But so I have always felt and yet I have always been happy, or nearly happy. Why am I so far from happy now?"

"Why ask me? Surely you know best what frets you."

"But I do not know, Radnor, you are always looking at your own guts. Why should a man who has whatever he has desired be so uneasy."

Lord Radnor made a gesture of pushing something away and truly focused his eyes on his companion. He shrugged his heavy shoulders. "Because you are afraid to have that which you have snatched away. That is one reason, but not yours, I think. You do know what frets you, Roger, but you do not wish to acknowledge it."

A spark of anger shaded the color of the blue eyes that fixed the brown ones. "I tell you I have done my best to be honest."

Radnor shrugged again. "You wish me to put it into words? I wished to spare you that. So be it. You are an honorable man. Miles of Gloucester bred you and raised you up, and now your honor is torn two ways. You are pledged to Henry and your heart is with his cause, but you know and I know that Stephen of Blois is king of England, God's anointed king, and it is wrong to wrest the throne from him by force."

"No."

"Yes. If it were God's will, Hereford, that Henry be king now, he would be. Stephen would have yielded the throne for reasons of his own, or the plague would have had him, or—any of a thousand things could happen."

"Then you are advising me to give up and not even try. You are mad. You are as deeply caught in this affair as I, even if you will not sully your honor by bearing arms against your king. You guard the word honor and deny its meaning." Hereford's voice was bitter with chagrin and sarcasm, but Lord Radnor did not react to the tone and regarded the excited young man with no change in his thoughtful expression.

"Certainly I am involved in this, and more certainly I do not advise you to give it up. You are ever hasty, Roger. Would I have urged my father and the others to offer you what I felt to be wrong and hopeless? You have known me so long, is that my way with those I love? I am only telling you what I believe to be the cause of your distress."

"You are talking around me in circles again, Radnor. You say you are my friend, do not do it. Speak simple words with plain meanings."

"Look you, Hereford, man is only mortal and does not understand the workings of the Infinite Wisdom. All we can do is what our hearts and minds tell us is right and just. That is what I meant when I said earlier that you should not do this thing if you have no stomach for it. On the other hand, if you think what you attempt is for the best … How do you know you are not God's instrument to bring about Henry's succession?"

The seriousness of the discussion could not prevent Hereford's easily tickled risibility from awakening. "God's instrument, eh? Satan's infernal weapon is more like. Do you know the count of my sins?"

"No, surely from your looks you must be the angel and I—seducing you to evil—the devil. Look at my face and my hoof:' Radnor touched Hereford with his clubfoot and laughed. "But this is no matter for jest. From what I can see and what you say also, you have doubts of the right of this action. I think that is only the result of your training and breeding. We are taught from the cradle that our duty is to our overlord. Stephen, as King of England, is your overlord even if you did not give him your personal fealty. It seems to me that it is the contest between what you truly feel to be right and your lifelong training that burdens you. More I cannot say. If I am wrong," Radnor turned a palm up in a gesture of resignation, "then I am wrong because I have misread you or put into your heart what is in mine."

Hereford made no reply at all. Vaguely he heard, as if in echo, his own conversation that first day with Elizabeth, heard himself saying that Stephen was King of England and that he should be fighting for the king instead of rebelling against him. He watched Radnor playing with the scars on his face with mild irritation and then smiled, thinking of how often Elizabeth had told him that the gesture gave him away, and stopped pulling his ear. Well, he should be fighting for the king and would be if Henry were the king. Around and around. He yawned and stretched.

"Ay," Radnor commented, "we should stop talking and get to our beds. You are blue beneath the eyes with too much thinking. Sleep on it, Hereford, remembering that there is yet time to move either way without shame. But for God's sake, if you decide to go ahead, do so with a firm heart and a sure mind. For you to be unsure in this matter will be a worse disaster than abandoning the entire affair or trying to accomplish our purpose without the strength of Gloucester's army behind us."

Yawning again, Hereford shook his head. "I wonder if I will ever sleep again. These nights I feel as if I would drop, and when I lie down I am full awake again." He laughed as Radnor looked questioningly at him with the same glance upward to the women's quarters that Beaufort had used. "No, thank you. I took a wench at the keep we stopped at last night and that did not help either—much. When my mind lies quiet, my body will lie quiet also."

"Yes, that and … You were never one for planning and scheming. When you come to the fighting you will rest easier, if you have time to rest at all." Radnor clapped Hereford hearteningly on the shoulder. "It is dirty work, Roger, treason. Ay, that is what it is, call it by its name. And you do not like to be splattered." He laughed. "When you are as drowned in the mud as I am, you will find it easier."

CHAPTER 4

"I CANNOT SEE," ROGER OF HEREFORD WAS SAYING IN THE DARK JUST
before dawn, "that we can make it more certain than that until we have Norfolk and Arundel with us to hear whether they are willing or not."

He was fully armed and ready to travel as soon as it was light enough to leave. A week of intensive and detailed planning at Painscastle had not improved his appearance or temper although his depression had lifted somewhat because his mind was so filled with the incidentals of war that he had no time to worry about whether he was happy or not.

"Norfolk may be depended upon. He agreed to help in whatever way was most fitting so long as he might remain near his own lands and I believe he will do it. Arundel is less to be trusted, I fear, in the fighting, but what we ask of him is little enough and I hope he will not fail. Indeed," Lord Radnor added smiling grimly, "I know he will not because I plan to be with him at the time he goes to meet Henry. All he needs to be trusted with is getting Henry to Devizes, because I think it possible that it will be needful for me to go to London to see what Maud is doing at that time."

"Yes, yes. We have been over this and over it. Of more significance to me is the garnishing of the strongholds on Gloucester's land. If you will use what money you promised me for that and see to it that it is done properly, that will take a great weight from my shoulders and allow me to concentrate on the moving troops which I fear are in sad condition."

"You may trust me for that. It is perfectly proper in me, after all, to help my foster brother in such matters. Maud will know something is afoot, but it could not be long hidden from her anyway, and it will draw her attention in the right direction. Roger, give some more thought to the barons who are sworn to Gloucester. Can you bind them to you in some firm manner?"

"In two months? If Gloucester continues to insist that he will not appear as an active partisan, what can I do? Idiot that I am, I did not foresee that part of the problem when I agreed that he should allow me the men and money pretending that he had dismissed the mercenary troops and I had gathered them in. No, it was not idiocy," Hereford said, smiling like a naughty child in spite of his worn looks, in reply toRadnor's raised brows, "it was pride. I did not wish that he should have the glory for the blood I spilled." His expression sobered. "But this is more important than my pride. We can make do without them, if Gloucester bids them offer us no resistance—which he has already promised—but they would be a welcome help. I have already decided that I will speak to him at the wedding and see if I cannot induce him to leave the court and join us as the nominal head of the forces."

"Ay, if you do all the work and allow him to sit safe in some keep he may agree, but not at first. He will want to see some hope of success before he commits himself."

"You are right, no doubt, but that will be soon enough. Until Henry and I return from Scotland and the heavy action begins, I have more than sufficient forces for my needs. Look, there is the first light. It seems scarcely worthwhile to say farewell, for you will be after me in a week's time. You will bring Lady Leah with you, I hope—and the boy too if she will not be parted from him—Elizabeth asked specially that she come if possible."

"You need not fear that." Radnor laughed. "I would not be parted from her. My father makes a jest of me for it, but all in all I am so little at home … She likes Elizabeth too. You would not think it, they are so different in every way, but it is true."

"We are not so much the same either, Radnor."

"No. I suppose not. It will be nice for her to have someone to visit when I am from home and Elizabeth could come here too. Of course, your wife will not be so lonely with your mother and sisters in the house. But it is light enough to travel now and this talk is nothing of sufficient value to hold you for. God speed you, Roger. Travel well."

"God keep you, Radnor." Hereford kissed his friend, smiling at the innocence and ignorance that imagined that his mother and such a daughter-by-marriage as Elizabeth would be "company" for each other. It just went to prove that a man who could see into the hearts of other men so easily was as a babe with women. I can hope, Hereford thought as they mounted and rode out, that I will have sufficient address to keep them from killing each other until time has brought them patience to bear one another. Otherwise, I will be forced to set my mother in her dower castle, which would be a shame. She would not like it and Elizabeth should not be troubled with washing underclothing and planning every day's meals. My mother could take those chores from her. Well, he thought, still smiling, I can do no more than try to keep the peace between them, but I hope Elizabeth has not yet arrived; I could do with a day's respite.

There was another reason he hoped Elizabeth and Chester would not have arrived. He expected the Earl of Lincoln to be already at Hereford and he wished to use the relationship to be formed between them to induce that notably unscrupulous magnate to attack Nottingham for him. Hereford had not mentioned his plan to destroy the Constable of Nottingham to Lord Radnor because it was a private matter not really connected with Henry's affairs and because he was unwilling to discuss Elizabeth's involvement, but he had not forgotten.

For a good-humored man who showed the true generosity of forgetting an injury he had forgiven, Roger of Hereford was nonetheless an implacable enemy. What he had not forgiven, he never forgot. He had been forced, regretfully, to put aside the idea of attacking Nottingham at once himself as the pressure of work he would have in the next few months became more apparent through the discussions at Painscastle. He was too honorable to allow any personal problems to interfere with what he had taken on as a duty, but he could begin matters by inciting Lincoln to attack Peverel.

Later, if things went well, he might be able to find time to finish the matter himself, but in any case he did not wish Chester to involve himself in that. He had other uses for Chester, for one thing, and did not want him distracted. For another, Chester was in enough trouble with Stephen without becoming more odious by attacking a favorite. One could never tell what small incident would set Stephen off on a path of revenge, and Hereford had no desire to have his wife's property attacked when he was too busy to protect it.

As they rode it became apparent that the weather was warming slightly. Hereford expressed himself freely, although in an undertone, on what he thought of the English climate. Aloud, he gave instructions to Alan of Evesham that the men should keep a sharp eye on their beasts because he intended to push on directly to Hereford even if they had to ride at night. Lady Hereford, according to her letter, was frantic with the necessity of such great preparations in so short a time and Roger felt that his presence would lend stability to her efforts and calm his sisters, who were no doubt hysterical with excitement. Besides, he would be needed to hunt. His guests would expect better fare than pork, mutton, and beef, and the slaughter of game went better under the master's eye than when left to the huntsmen alone. He would have to hunt every day; Hereford looked disgustedly at the sky and the ground and cursed the weather anew. He could think of greater pleasures than hunting in this muck.

In
the event, his prognostications were correct. Hereford's squires were just unbuckling his sword and lifting off his mail shirt when his mother and two younger sisters rushed in. Anne threw her arms around his neck at first without a word and kissed him all over his dirty face, but wordlessness was not Lady Hereford's problem once she had caught her breath.

"Roger, you are mad. Mad! Where are we to put all these people in the dead of winter—and such a winter? Where are we to get fattened animals? You cannot fatten winter stock in two weeks! Who ever heard of having a wedding—this kind of wedding—at this time of year!"