The Winter King (30 page)

He was a cunning, self-serving, ruthless devil of a man
, Josse thought as he felt the pain of loss begin.
But, dear God, I liked him
.

He wondered if he could speak without giving away what he was thinking. Lord Robert was clearly waiting for a response; sitting there in his vast, ostentatious throne, he was gloating like a man who had just won a great and unexpected victory against overwhelming odds.

Which, in a way, Josse reflected, he had.

‘From your demeanour,’ he began, gratified to discover that his voice did not shake, ‘I would surmise that you had a hand in this death.’

‘You surmise correctly,’ Lord Robert said grimly.

But Josse could not absorb it. ‘You cannot have done this deed!’ he cried. ‘The king is better-guarded than any man in England.’

Lord Wimarc inspected the citrine stone on his right hand, turning it this way and that. ‘Nevertheless, he is dead,’ he said softly.

Slowly, Josse shook his head. ‘Why?’ he asked simply.

Lord Robert eyed him suspiciously. ‘Do you need to be given reasons, sir knight? The people of England long to be rid of this monster. Is that not sufficient?’

‘Some – aye, if not most – probably agree with you,’ Josse acknowledged. ‘But to wish for the death of God’s anointed monarch in a moment of anger and frustration is a very different matter from perpetrating the deed.’

Lord Wimarc made no reply.

‘In any case, why should you, in particular, wish so fervently for the end of this rule?’ Josse pressed on. ‘What has King John done to you that you find so much more unbearable than the hardships the rest of us are forced to suffer in these tumultuous times?’

Still Lord Wimarc sat silent.

‘Do you intend,’ Josse asked, ‘to join the self-serving barons who flock to Nicholas Fitzwalter? Do you too wish to clip the wings of whoever sits on the throne, so that the high lords of England can keep more of their wealth and their power for themselves?’ Warming to his theme, words seemed to flood up, and he did not try to hold them back. He and Helewise stood, alone, amid a circle of well-armed and, presumably, well-drilled men. There was no hope for them, unless Lord Robert Wimarc was going to be merciful.
We have nothing to lose
, Josse thought savagely.
And, dear God above
,
I will know the truth of this
.

He pressed on. ‘Perhaps it is that you shudder at the thought of what would happen if King John didn’t yield to the Pope?’ he suggested. ‘For they say, do they not, that Pope Innocent plans to invite Philip of France to invade? You reason, I might guess, that it is better to see John die now, before Philip can have a chance to strike?’

Another thought occurred to him. Watching Lord Wimarc closely, very aware of the silent presence of Manticore, standing just behind his lord, Josse said, ‘Or, possibly, you think to see the crown pass to John’s young son Henry? You would prefer a four-year-old child on the throne as Henry III, and perhaps you aspire to have a say in how the land is governed while he remains too young to do it himself? If this were to happen, then there would indeed have to be a council of regents, and might the lure of a place on that council be sufficient to entice you out of your isolation?’

Josse stopped, panting slightly. He realized he had barely drawn breath in the course of his passionate outburst. He sensed Helewise edge closer. ‘Are you all right?’ she whispered.

‘Aye,’ he muttered.

There was utter quiet in the long hall.
You would never believe
, Josse thought with strange detachment,
that twelve men stood around the walls, for they make no more noise than a dozen statues
.

He glanced at Manticore, whose dark eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched and waited. Then he turned back to Lord Robert.

‘Is it worth it?’ he asked softly. ‘You have killed your king, or your man here has done so on your orders.’ He shot a glance at Manticore. It was a guess, but Josse was all but certain he was right. ‘Which, be in no doubt, will be judged to be the same thing.’ He edged a little closer. ‘Do you imagine you will not be brought to justice? Do you think to live in peace under whatever new regime evolves? Think again! Oh, Lord Robert, new rulers do not allow the murderers of their predecessors to go on living in happy isolation, for there is always the fear that, having once committed regicide, it may become a habit. At best, you will be closely watched till the end of your days. At worse, you may be deemed too much of a worry, and they will quietly dispose of you. Your—’

Lord Robert broke his long silence, and his voice was cold with fury. ‘I care not a jot for those puffed-up lords who only wish the king curtailed because he is too powerful, and who bleat because that power damages their own position and bleeds their wealth!’ Emotion twisted his face; it was clear he despised the Nicholas Fitzwalters of the world. ‘In addition, I am quite indifferent to which royal backside sits on the throne of England.’ He leaned forward, craning his stringy neck towards Josse. ‘What has King John done to me, you ask?’ The mocking echo of Josse’s words was eloquent with pain. ‘Listen, sir knight –’ he turned briefly to Helewise and, strange amid the powerful tensions in the hall, gave her a quaintly old-fashioned bow – ‘listen, my lady, and you shall hear.’

He leaned back in his chair, wrapped the fur-trimmed cloak more closely around his thin old body and, after a short pause, resumed.

‘I have always shunned human company,’ he began, ‘perhaps because of a harsh upbringing, which made loneliness preferable to the cruel jibes, the days spent in solitary confinement and the regular beatings. For, you see, my family name was deemed one to live up to, and those men given the task of raising me were harsh in the administration of the necessary lessons. When I came of age, I thought to spend my adulthood alone; indeed, by the time I became a man, I had become unfit for company. Especially, you will appreciate, the precious, delicate company of a lady.’ He shot an almost apologetic glance at Helewise, as if, as the sole representative of her sex who was present, it was for her, on behalf of all women, to hear his account of himself.

Then, lowering his head, he stared down into his lap. There was a pause, and then he said, ‘Once free of my tormentors and able to make my own decisions, I spent many years shut away with my books, my manuscripts, my writings, my thoughts, and the world left me alone. I reached the advanced age of thirty-five, and then the miracle happened: by pure chance, I met a young woman barely out of girlhood, and she saw through all my deep and carefully raised defences and fell for me.’

His voice had changed, Josse noted; suddenly the grim tone had lightened, as if the sun had come out after a week of cloud.

‘Of course, I reciprocated,’ Lord Wimarc continued, a smile stretching the tight lips, ‘for she was utterly lovely. Despite my lifelong resolve to be alone, I let down every last guard, and declared my love for her. Her name was Agnes; she had hair like ripe corn, which she loved me to brush for her, and her eyes were like the summer sky at twilight.’ He paused, and Josse saw his throat working as he sought to control himself. ‘Agnes and I were wed,’ he went on softly, ‘and she conceived a child.’

There was a long pause. Josse sensed grief creep out of the old man, emanating out of him to spread like darkness covering the ground. ‘She died,’ Lord Robert whispered at last. ‘My Agnes died, giving birth to our child.’ He covered his face with his hands, and the huge citrine glittered in the firelight. ‘I had to bear my heartache and go on living without her,’ he went on, dropping his hands back into his lap, ‘even when I longed with all my soul to follow her into the grave, for I was not alone: in Agnes’s stead, I had a little daughter to look after, and I could not abandon her. In time – in not very much time – I grew to love Tiercel, my own child, just as profoundly as I had loved her mother. I made up my mind not to lose her as I had lost my beloved Agnes and, accordingly, I shut us away here at Wealdsend and vowed to devote what remained of my life to her care, her protection and her happiness.’

He paused again, seeming to be all but choked by whatever strong emotion coursed through him.

When he resumed, there was a new note – of cold detachment, Josse thought – in his voice; perhaps it was the only way he could steel himself to go on. ‘When my sweet Tiercel was fifteen years old, we had a visitor. Oh, but she was so excited!’ Briefly the pale eyes shone. ‘Although she loved me devotedly, she had suffered from my determination to keep her enclosed and apart from the world, and I knew full well that she longed for company other than mine. Now, she believed, the world was coming to knock on her door, and her life was about to begin. Indeed it was, for our visitor was the most elevated man in the land, and he had announced he wished to stay at Wealdsend while he hunted in the forest.’

Oh, dear Lord
, Josse thought. Apprehension flooded through him.

‘This high-born visitor who was honouring us with a visit was drawn to my beautiful, innocent daughter from the instant he saw her.’ Now, Lord Robert’s tone was coolly neutral. ‘Not recognizing – no, not
wanting
to recognize that the life she had led had kept her a child far beyond childhood, he pursued her, right here under my own roof. He seduced her, and he bedded her. When he had gone – never, I might add, to return; never more to contact me or my daughter with even one single word – she confessed her terrible sin to the priest, and then she took her own life.’

Josse heard Helewise sob: a tiny sound, barely audible, quickly suppressed.

‘I have never been able to forgive myself.’ Lord Robert spoke with infinite weariness, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. ‘I kept her enclosed here with me for my own sake, because I could not bear the thought of any threat to her. Because of my selfishness, she was quite unprepared for the world; for the debauched depredations of a man so much older and more experienced than her; who, smitten with her smile, her demeanour that was ever willing to please, her talent, her skill at singing and playing the lute, her lovely young face, her affectionate nature, did not hesitate. He took what he wanted from a girl who had not the least idea how to defend herself – who did not know, even, if defending herself was the right thing to do.’

Now, at long last, he raised his head and Josse saw his face. Ravaged by long grief and unending guilt, he looked as if he was already in the grave.

‘The man who came to visit and who is responsible for my beloved Tiercel’s death was, as I am sure you have both guessed, King John,’ he said quietly. ‘It is for that reason, and no more nor less, that I decided he must die.’

Not knowing how to reply, Josse did not speak.

‘I have been working out my plan these many years.’ Now a little life returned to Lord Robert’s voice, as if he were animated by describing his own cunning. ‘I took as my talisman the labrys: that ancient symbol that, deep in its maze, represents intrigue on the profoundest level. I shared my aim with barely a soul, save my faithful Manticore here, known to me all his life and my true man through and through.’ He looked up at the man who stood by his side, and Manticore gave a grunt of acknowledgement. ‘I made my preparations. I knew I had to draw the king out of his fastnesses, for within them he is inviolate, even to one such as Manticore. You see, I had to devise a means by which he would come willingly to a less secure place.

‘I contemplated the long list of those who declare themselves close companions, friends, supporters of the king, and then I narrowed it down to those who the king believed he had the greatest cause to watch. I lighted upon one who, while he boasted to all and sundry of the vast amounts he amassed on the king’s behalf, yet cheated his sovereign every single day, setting aside the greater portion for the realm while keeping back a share for himself. Naturally, King John knew of this treachery.’ Lord Robert paused, gazing intently at Josse and Helewise as if ensuring they understood. ‘There is a saying, is there not,’ he said quietly, ‘that you set a thief to catch a thief? In a similar vein, a man as acquisitive and as venal as our lord king – a man who does not hesitate to lie and cheat to obtain what he wants – is the very person to perceive instantly when someone else is cheating
him
. King John knew what his dear friend Lord Benedict de Vitré was up to, I would guess, almost before de Vitré pocketed his first silver coin.

Lord Robert paused, breathing deeply as if to restore his strength. Then he continued. ‘If anything was to happen to Lord Benedict – if, for example, he were to die – then it seemed all but certain that John would arrive hotfoot at Medley to collect all that was his. I resolved, therefore, to slip my own man inside Lord Benedict’s household, where, once he was familiar with the daily habits and routine of Medley, he would be able to kill its lord while ensuring he got away.’ He turned briefly to the silent Manticore. ‘For I had not finished with him yet.’

‘So the day that I saw you leaving Medley wasn’t the first time you’d been there,’ Josse said to Manticore, who did not deign to acknowledge the remark. ‘You’d been there some time, learning the ways of the place and, no doubt, blending in with all the rest of the staff.’

‘Having baited the trap by despatching Lord Benedict,’ Lord Robert went on, ‘Manticore was to keep his eyes open and his ears ever alert for news of the king. I
knew
he would come,’ he said, his voice becoming animated, ‘and the announcement that he would grace the funeral feast with his presence was perfect, for it is easier to carry out a secret act when there are many people about.’ He smiled at Josse and Helewise, as if inviting them to congratulate him. ‘Manticore’s final order was a simple one: merge with the guests at the feast and, when the opportunity arises, kill the guest of honour.’ He turned to look up at his man, on whose impassive face not a flicker of emotion showed. ‘Which, this very day, he has done.’

Then, suddenly, Manticore made a movement; it was almost imperceptible, and had Josse not been watching him so closely he would have missed it. But before either Josse or Manticore could speak, Lord Robert rose to his feet.