The Silver Falcon (64 page)

After a short pause, he cleared his throat again. “I was young, a nobody. I had nothing besides my position at court. I was always a soldier through and through. If I had not been able to serve my king, I might have gone hungry, but it’s the grief that would have killed me. In those days I was just as devoted to the young Henry as I later was to his father, Richard, and now John, just as a knight should be.” Marshal forced out a tormented smile. “But I did love her.”

William did not understand whom Marshal was referring to or where his story was going.

“We knew there was no future for us, but that was unimportant. Only the moment counted. For love, William, love doesn’t demand prudence—she makes you forget it. When our ways parted, I didn’t know she was with child, and when I saw her again she was married. It was terribly painful, even if I could never have made her my wife.”

He stared into space, as if he could see his memories there. “Isaac came along while we were talking. Straightaway, I could see that he knew who I was. It was the fear in his eyes that gave him away. He was afraid he would lose both his wife and his son. At that moment, Isaac must have sensed the intimate bond between
me and your mother, and observed a certain resemblance between you and me.” He pointed at William and himself. “I am sure he loved your mother and you very much, but no more than I did. That day, in her workshop, I saw that her dream of her own smithy had been fulfilled. The two of you had a home I never could have offered. I understood that I had no right to expect anything from her.”

William stood and stared at Marshal in disbelief. His face was drained of all color. “Are you trying to tell me…”

“I know this comes as a surprise.”

Marshal was his father! The very man he had so often dreamed of, seeing him coming to fetch him. William gasped. They had spent one afternoon together when he was a boy, a single afternoon. It had been the best day in his young life and the beginning of his love of falconry. Still, it was too little time to be close. Isaac had taken care of him all those years and had always been there for him.

It felt as though the ground were falling away beneath his feet.

“Please, William, you must believe me when I say—”

“Isaac is the only father I’ve ever had,” William broke in without looking at him. “That’s what I told my mother, too, when we were carrying him to his grave and she asked me if I still wanted to know who my father was. She kept it secret all those years, though I kept begging her to tell me.” William laughed despairingly. “It wasn’t until Isaac died that I knew
he
was my real father. The man who worked with Jean to make me wooden shoes to straighten my foot a little. And it doesn’t matter whether it was any use. What matters is that he did it to help me, not because he was ashamed of my limp.” He fell silent for a moment, apparently looking back into the past. “Yes, I remember your shocked expression that day, the first time you came to see us at the smithy. I’m sure you hadn’t imagined your son would be like me.”

“When I saw you for the first time, I had the strange sensation I’d been transported a long way back to a different time. I could almost smell my wet nurse’s scent and hear her voice. Your mother’s expression told me you were my son, and I had recognized myself in you. Baudouin immediately saw who you were, too. That’s why he didn’t understand when I wasn’t very friendly to you. He knew of my great love for Ellen and rebuked me for not taking you in my arms.”

“I’m sure you didn’t expect a cripple for a son,” said William resentfully.

“No, William. I didn’t expect a son at all. And when I saw you had a limp, I wasn’t angry with
you
. I was angry with God and myself, because it wasn’t fair that
you
should bear the punishment for my sins.”

“Well, as you see, I live with it, and quite well at that,” replied William, still somewhat offended, but Marshal was so lost in his thoughts that he did not even appear to hear him.

“We knew we were not destined to walk together for more than a short stretch of our journey on this earth,” he continued pensively. “We both had big dreams. They seemed mad, unachievable. So we didn’t admit to ourselves that our love might prevent us from realizing them. And believe me, it wasn’t easy for your mother or me to stay true to our dreams. Why do you think she left Normandy without telling me I was to be a father?”

“She probably thought it would be a matter of indifference to you,” replied William defiantly.

“No, William. It wouldn’t have been a matter of indifference, and it never has been since I’ve known of your existence. You can choose to believe me or not. It’s up to you,” Marshal said regretfully. “She said nothing because she loved me and knew very well that a shared path was impossible for us. As the young king’s tutor, I was penniless. I would never have been able to give her a smithy. For your mother only ever wanted one thing, and that was to be
a smith. I knew that, just as she knew that I only ever wanted to serve my king and England.”

William knew his mother, knew how she thought, and therefore also knew that Marshal was right. Yet he could not imagine her in Marshal’s arms and did not want to.

“Don’t think I’m going to call you Father,” he blurted suddenly.

“I don’t expect you to, my son, but come to me if you need my help, immediately, whether you think I will do something for you or not. Promise me that.”

At that moment William had nothing more to say.

“She just turned on her heel and left,” Marguerite reported, wringing her hands in agitation once they were finally back in their tent after the evening banquet. “And she didn’t so much as look at me while we were eating. I understand why she’s angry, but she’s wrong.”

Marguerite looked at William. “You and I know Richard gets his crooked backside from me, but what about her?” Marguerite blushed when William raised his eyebrows and nodded energetically.

“I must admit I often think about that delightful little flaw and how you purr when I kiss you there.”

“William,” exclaimed Marguerite, keeping her voice down and shaking her head reprovingly. She glanced at the corner where the nursemaid and Richard had withdrawn. They were both fast asleep.

The blazing fire in front of the tent threw shadows onto the cloth walls. They could hear voices outside. Robert, the two knights, the hunt assistant, and Adam were still sitting there, telling one another stories. Soon they would lie down to sleep on the floor of the tent, while William and Marguerite shared a comfortable bed made of straw and animal pelts.

“But I like it,” grumbled William, pretending to be hurt.

“Stop it. This is deadly serious. If Isabelle thinks Richard is John’s son, it’s a disaster.”

“You’re right, my love, but when we talk about your lovely bottom I find I can’t think about anything else.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m not.” William fell silent for a while. “I’m thinking about it hard. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Perhaps you should think about where
you
got your crooked behind from. I think Joan, John’s bastard daughter, would be about your age, wouldn’t she? Who knows how many other ladies the young prince might have courted besides your mother?”

“Are you suggesting my mother and John?” Marguerite gasped. “You go too far, William.”

“Even a young lady of high rank might find it difficult to turn down a handsome prince.” William was trying to get her used to the idea, while at the same time he was thinking about how it had been with his mother and Marshal. “Haven’t you ever wondered why your mother chose him as your guardian, of all people? Mightn’t it suggest she knew him better?”

“Better, yes. But no, William, I can’t believe it. She only ever had good things to say about my father, and besides, I would have known. I mean, I’m sure John would have told me if he was not just my guardian but also my…” She could not bring herself to say the word.

“If he was your father?” asked William. His thoughts were revolving around his earlier conversation with Marshal. Wasn’t this a remarkable day? Could such strange coincidences really happen? “Perhaps he doesn’t even know. After all, not every night of love produces a child. And if your mother never said anything? Perhaps because she wasn’t sure herself? If she was already married, she would at least have known, from your lovely little flaw, whose daughter you really were, and it would have been easy to
keep that resemblance to John a secret from her husband. Not many people in the country would be likely to know about that peculiarity of the king’s body, after all.”

“What should I do now? I can’t let the queen go on believing that Richard is John’s bastard. But can I go to the king and say, ‘Sire, I hear you have a crooked cleft between your buttocks. Since I have exactly the same feature, I believe I must be your daughter.’ No, William, with the best will in the world, I can’t do it.” She laughed despairingly and shook her head.

“Certainly not,” he agreed with a grin, trying to imagine how John would probably react. “Perhaps the queen will calm down eventually.”

“Pah! Calm down? You men would go to war over such a thing. Believe me, it’s no different for women. She won’t let it go.”

“Or else you could open your heart to Isabelle.”

“And bring down the king’s displeasure on my head, when he’s the last one to hear of it? You don’t know how furious he gets if he feels someone has betrayed him. No, William, that won’t work either.” Marguerite sent up a short prayer to heaven. “Lord, help me to do the right thing.”

Odon tossed and turned on his bed. He had not been able to rest for days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Adam’s cheerful face and thought he heard his clear, high laugh. Worried, he opened his eyes again. How long would the boy remain so innocent? Odon had seen him with Robert and William that afternoon and had watched them for a long time.

What offended him most was the sincere admiration the boy showed for the two men. He had saved him from poverty in the pigsticker’s home. In fact, he had spent more time with him than with his heir, Rotrou. Even if he had not been driven by the desire
to be a good father, but by the fact that Adam reminded him of Carla, and that he therefore needed him, Adam had looked up to him from the very first day as no one else ever had. Filled with devotion, Adam had listened to his father’s boasting and applauded proudly when he heard of Odon’s heroic deeds in Brittany. He had never been insolent, provoking Odon’s rage, nor had he asked awkward questions about his mother or demanded anything. Just like Carla, the boy had simply loved him.

Rotrou, on the other hand, was as cold and calculating as Maud; he made constant demands on his father and yet was never satisfied. He disapproved of everything and made fun of Odon. And when his father tried to chastise him, the boy would hide behind his mother’s skirts and eye him gleefully while Maud defended him and his misbehavior. Oh yes, he might have been able to spare Rotrou to be William’s page. Odon laughed out loud. William would have broken his accursed teeth on that little rascal, but not Adam.

Odon threw back the blanket and got out of bed. He would not concede Adam to William.

“Don’t think you can take my son and get away with it,” he hissed, slamming down his fist on the little table in front of him, upending a wooden plate with a few stripped chicken bones. He knocked back the rest of the wine in his cup, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and rubbed the sweat from his brow, then fell back onto the edge of his bed.

First Robert had taken Carla away, and now William was snatching his eldest, the only person who still meant something to him. He could not possibly allow it. Somehow he had to get rid of Robert and William forever, so cleverly that no one would suspect him.

At the moment, the queen was likely to be his most powerful ally, though she did not suspect it. She was young and unsophisticated, and that would be helpful. A queen should never confide
in her bodyguard. However much the man who protected her might pick up from scraps of conversation here and there, it was an unwritten law that she should have respected. But, in her desperation, Isabelle had not obeyed it. She had opened her heart to Odon. He had nodded understandingly, shaking his head furiously from time to time.