King’s Knight (Medieval Warriors #4)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Icy fingers of dread crept over Alex as he slowly descended the stairs of their London manor that evening and beheld Merewyn, standing beside his mother. The two of them were richly gowned for the evening.

The violet silk Merewyn had worn on his first night home again made her appear the ethereal creature. Gone was the page that had felled a red hart with his bow. Before him stood a beautiful young woman, her flaxen hair plaited on the sides and pulled back from her face. The rest of it spilled down her back, a waterfall of liquid gold. He had the urge to run his fingers through the long strands, but then he reminded himself he was still angry with her for insisting on joining the hunt.

Her skillful shot had brought about an awkward state of affairs. Dressed as a lady, she might be safe from the king, but she would not be safe from his brother, Robert—known to have sired several bastards—or every other rogue in the hall. At one time, Alex would have been one of those knights who sought her favors if she was a woman who freely gave them. Now he must protect her against his fellow knights, or worse, some nobleman of his father’s rank.

Maugris had warned him of temptation that called for honor and courage needed in the face of fear. Tonight he would certainly need courage and his wits as he battled other men tempted by Merewyn’s beauty. Was that what Maugris had seen?

His father stepped away from the others to join Alex at the foot of the stairs. “You seem to have taken an interest in my ward.”

Still watching Merewyn, Alex said, “I worry for her in that den of debauchery we enter tonight.”

“You have never worried for a lady’s virtue before. Why Merewyn’s?”

“I feel very protective of her.”

His father’s gray eyes narrowed on him. “The last time I looked at a woman the way you are looking at Merewyn, it was your mother.”

Alex’s brows drew together as he pondered his father’s words. He compared the two women standing on the other side of the room, one a younger version of the other. “Do you think they are much alike?”

His father shifted his gaze to his wife and his ward. “Aye, I suppose they are. Both are unusual for their sex. Your mother used to hunt for Maggie, though not from the back of a horse. It was through her archery skills I found her hiding among the servants.”

Alex recalled the story. “She smiles about it now.”

“Yea, but I can assure you she did not smile then. She hated all Normans, especially the king who had given Talisand to me along with her.”

“Would you have taken her if she were not the daughter of an English thegn?”

The look in his father’s eyes told Alex his mind was lost in memory. “I nearly did.”

He was glad to hear that his father had wanted his mother before he knew her to be the daughter of Talisand’s old English thegn. His parents’ beginning had been rough but love had come despite their differences.

Alex wanted Merewyn no matter the circumstances of her birth and if he decided to make Merewyn his, no man would take her from him, not even the king.

With a troubled look, his father cautioned, “Keep it at friendship with Merewyn, Alex. The king, no doubt, has plans for you.”

“Sir Geoffroi warned me of such, but I would guard her even if she were only a friend.”

“Then keep her close in the king’s hall tonight. Geoff and I will intercede if necessary. ”

“Your offer is appreciated, Father, but I think I can handle this.”

A smile crossed the face of the Red Wolf as he placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Aye, mayhap you can. I expect one day—and that day may not be far off—when the accomplishments of the Black Wolf will surpass those of the Red.”

Alex gave his father an incredulous look, but inwardly he smiled at the approval he glimpsed in his father’s eyes.

Soon after, they departed the manor. The distance to Westminster Palace was not far and they kept to a leisurely pace, avoiding the pools of standing water. Finally, ahead of them in the distance loomed the palace.

Passing Westminster Abbey on their right, beside him, Merewyn inhaled sharply. “That is the church?”

“Aye, the abbey is just there and, in front of you, the palace.”

“’Twas King Edward who rebuilt Saint Peter’s Abbey,” said Lady Serena riding ahead of them beside Alex’s father.

“The Conqueror added to the palace,” put in Alex’s father. “He found it inferior to the ones in France.”

“No doubt,” his mother muttered.

“The king tells me he has plans to make Westminster a grand hall,” Alex put in, wondering if William’s plans were not spurred on by the desire to outshine his father. What must it be like for William Rufus to live in the shadow of the Conqueror?

“I expect he will,” came his father’s response.

“I have never seen the like,” said Merewyn, staring at the abbey as they passed. Then looking ahead to the palace, she added, “I cannot imagine the palace being even larger.”

By the time they arrived, many of William’s subjects were waiting to greet him.

Grooms in the king’s livery took their horses.

A few earls and many barons and knights congregated around the door of the palace. Alex recognized those who had hunted with them that morning as well as others from his time in Normandy. Earl Hugh waved to them from where he spoke to the king’s chancellor, Robert Bloet.

Alex’s father was well known and much respected. Thus, Earl Renaud and his beautiful English wife garnered considerable attention as they walked up the stairs.

Alex took Merewyn’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Stay close,” he whispered. She looked at him with trusting eyes but also a hint of fear. “I will not leave you,” he vowed. She had to be feeling awkward and mayhap fearful to be in the presence of the Norman king and so many of his knights.

Finally, the group from Talisand neared the king, who was standing inside the door greeting his guests. As was usual, the king was attired in great finery, a crimson tunic, with jewels set into the fabric. On his fingers were many rings of gold.

Next to the king was his older brother, Duke Robert, dressed in similar garb, though mayhap a bit less extravagant. His hair, too, was shorter than William’s.

On the other side of the king’s brother stood Ranulf, dubbed “Flambard”, or “torch-bearer”, for his overwhelming personality.

Alex knew Ranulf to be clever, talkative and always full of ideas. He was the king’s closest advisor and priest, but his chief occupation appeared to be raising money for the king’s wars. In that effort, Ranulf was not above robbing the church. Alex deemed it likely it had been Ranulf’s counsel that had left the powerful position of Archbishop of Canterbury vacant for so long, enabling the king to claim the rents as his own. But more concerning to Alex at the moment was Ranulf’s reputation as a conspicuous pursuer of women. He collected them like trophies.

In truth, the handsome Ranulf might be the greatest threat to Merewyn which, to Alex, seemed an odd turn of events. At one time, he and Ranulf had competed for the affections of the women at court. Always more aggressive than Alex in seeking out willing females, Alex had tolerated the man for he had the king’s respect. But no longer. Now Alex recognized the king’s advisor for what he was, a predatory despoiler of women. Ranulf, he was certain, would not fail to notice Merewyn’s loveliness. That she was not a nobleman’s daughter only made her fair game.

Arriving in front of the king, William smiled at Alex and his father. “Ah, my wolves grace my hall! And with lovely ladies.” He first greeted Alex’s parents and then turned to Alex. “But where is the young page whose arrow felled the hart?”

Alex cleared his throat. “My Lord, may I introduce to you Merewyn of York, my father’s ward. I believe you know her as ‘Merry’.”

The king’s unusual eyes captured the light as they narrowed upon Merewyn, his expression one of disbelief. “By the face of Lucca, what have we here?”

Still holding on to Alex’s arm, Merewyn made a brief curtsey before the king. “My Lord.”

“Do my eyes deceive me?” asked William. “This jewel is the page you called Merry?”

“By the marvels of God,” exclaimed Duke Robert, “’tis the page skilled with a bow turned into a beautiful young woman… Ravissante, tout à fait ravissante! ”

The short dark-haired duke, barely taller than Merewyn, grinned broadly at her, grimly reminding Alex that whereas the king might prefer to take his pleasure with young men, Robert loved women. That he found her enchanting was hardly surprising.

Alex was about to move past the king when William Rufus held up his hand. “Sir Alex, there is someone I would have you meet.”

Alex turned.

“’Tis the young Adèle, here with her father, Herbert, comte de Vermandois. Her father’s lands in Normandy are among those I now control.”

Alex shot a glance at Sir Geoffroi who had turned back at the king’s words. The knight’s earlier speculation echoed in Alex’s mind. Now that he has gained new lands in Normandy from his brother, Robert, I expect William will want to bind his young nobles to those lands. The last thing Alex needed was an arranged marriage but he would not openly defy his sovereign. He inclined his head. “Of course, My Lord.”

They passed the king and his brother, arriving in front of Ranulf Flambard. The king’s advisor took Merewyn’s free hand and placed a kiss upon her slender fingers, his dark eyes searing into hers. “I shall look forward to a dance with you this night, my lady. I would see more of your beautiful face.”

Alex scowled and tightened his grip on Merewyn. “The lady’s dances have all been claimed, I am afraid.”

Ranulf laughed. “We shall see, sir knight. We shall see.”

“He makes me uneasy,” said Merewyn casting a glance back at Ranulf as they entered the hall. The large space was filled with people engaged in conversation. Already, many seats were taken at the long trestle tables. “Who is he?”

“The king’s chaplain, advisor and keeper of the treasury. And a scoundrel. Do not concern yourself with him. I will make sure the men of Talisand guard you well.”

Before they took their seats, Alex left Merewyn with Rory and Guy and drew Sir Geoffroi aside. “Did you hear the king? It appears you were correct in your assumption. William wants me to meet some woman from Normandy.”

“Aye and not just any woman. The daughter of Earl Herbert of Vermandois is rumored to be beautiful, but also treacherous. She has been thought to use poison, though I suppose ’tis normal for the women of Normandy.” At Alex’s raised brow, Guy’s father explained, “’Tis how they rid themselves of unwanted husbands.”

“You have my thanks for the warning, but I hope never to put myself in such a position.”

Alex returned to collect Merewyn. It was not enough he had to fend off the men who would be after the woman he vowed to protect. Now he must deal with a young noblewoman from Normandy known for her treachery.

Was his father aware of the king’s plans? Even if he were, Talisand was a long way from Wessex and per chance the king might be persuaded to accept another in his place. The Earl of Chester had many sons, but at least two were sons of his wife. After what happened at Avranches, Earl Hugh owed the king a debt for his mercy in taking the earl back into the fold. One of those sons might be proposed as a candidate for the hand of Lady Adèle. Alex could only hope.

Soon they were seated between Sir Geoffroi and Rory, Guy on Rory’s other side. Alex looked up to see his parents sitting with the king on the dais. The invitation to dine with the king was a high honor; one Alex was certain his mother would have declined were she able.

He took off his sword belt and laid it under his bench, then leaned in to Rory. “Do not leave Merewyn alone should I be drawn away. You and Guy must claim her dances if I cannot.”

“With pleasure,” Rory replied with a grin.

“Your eagerness is wholly unnecessary,” Alex commented dryly. He would not be pleased should his fellow knight take a fancy to Merewyn.

***

Overwhelmed by the dazzling opulence around her, Merewyn stared at the beautiful tapestries gracing the walls. Most featured battles. She imagined the sounds that might have accompanied them. The bodies of slain warriors lay on the ground before the victorious. They were the kind of tapestries a bachelor king would display in his hall.

In one corner, minstrels played flutes and a lyre, sending beautiful sounds into the air and providing a soothing background for the boisterous conversations at the tables. All were speaking in Norman French, the language of the court. She understood what they said, having been taught French in her youth. Even though she had not spoken the language much at Talisand or in Wales, she had not forgotten it.

The large chamber was alight with hundreds of candles set into iron rings that hung from the wooden rafters high above. Torches blazed from sconces set into the walls adding to the bright flames of the central hearth fire making the room almost too warm. On the tables, the candlelight was reflected in the silver and golden goblets set before them.

Wonderful smells wafted from trays piled high with meats of all kinds, including roast pig, venison and peafowl. Dishes of vegetables cooked in sauces were set before them, along with bread still warm from the oven. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had not eaten since breaking her fast.

Silks and velvet gowns and tunics in bright sapphire, ruby, emerald and yellow were all around her. On the dais, she glimpsed the king in his bejeweled scarlet tunic laughing as he ate with his brother, Robert, and the one called Ranulf. On either side of them sat Earl Hugh and Alex’s parents. At the tables, the barons, earls and their ladies adorned in fine raiment and many jewels ate with relish. She was glad for the gown Lady Serena had given her. At least she was dressed like a lady.

The smells of herbs and spices made her mouth water and she speared a slice of venison from the trencher she shared with Alex. “Do you think we dine on my deer?” she asked him before taking a bite.

“The other hunters took deer also, but ’tis likely one of these is your kill.” He bit into a piece of the succulent meat, wiping the juices from his chin with his napkin. “Very good it is, too. I like the wine sauce with cinnamon.”

Reaching for her goblet, she sipped her wine and let her gaze wander about the hall, coming to rest on an unusual group. “Alex, who are those three sitting at the other table on the end closest to the dais?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I suppose I can no longer delay telling you. Those are the king’s courtiers, Gervais, Jocelin and Piers. Guy calls them ‘the three graces’.”

“The ones in the Roman stories who served Venus?”

“Aye, tis a jest.”

“But are they women or men?” Merewyn could not honestly decide. They had the shoulders of young men, but their hair was longer than even the king and his young knights. Their cheeks were rouged and they appeared to be gowned like women.

“Men, the king’s own. Were you close enough, you could smell their perfume. ’Tis a heady scent.”

“The king is a… a sodomite ?” she whispered, disbelieving.

“Aye. ’Tis why he has not wed and will never sire a child. By the treaty he signed with his brother, Robert is now his heir.”

“I begin to see. ’Twas why you did not want the king to see me dressed as a page.” Garbed as an archer with her womanly features, the king could well have thought her one of his courtiers as Alex called them. Her estimation of Alex rose with the realization he had been looking out for her welfare. “You were protecting me.”

“I was and I still am.”

The intensity of his gaze made her lower her eyes. “I am grateful.”

When she raised her eyes it was to watch the king’s courtiers. Their feminine appearance, their laughter and their extravagant gestures were more like women than men. Even their earrings spoke of a woman’s attire, not a man’s. “Why would the king want a man pretending to be a woman when he could have any woman he wants?”

Alex leaned in and lowered his voice. “I cannot say for certain, but young squires are, for the most part, sequestered at a time when their bodies are changing from that of boys to men. When the urge strikes, some find their pleasure in each other. A few of those never grow out of the practice.”

“And you?” She could not imagine Alex doing such a thing.

He laughed. “Never think it. I would steal over the wall to a neighboring village, my companions clambering after me. ’Twas worth whatever wrath we incurred from the knights.”

At her frown, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You need not worry, Merewyn. Those days are behind me. And were we not in a crowded hall, I would be only too glad to show you why.”

Heat suffused her cheeks remembering the afternoon he had wandered into her bedchamber. Did he mean because he could have any woman he wanted he did not have to seek them out or did he mean he wanted only her? Would that it were possible for them to be together, but dwelling on the foolish thought would only bring her sadness.

When the meal was finished, the tables were moved to the walls and the large hall cleared for dancing. A group of minstrels, garbed in bright colors of blue, green and crimson, entered the large chamber and took their place on one side, readying their instruments. Soon they filled the hall with lively music from their lyre, lute, pipes and tabor.

Alex belted on his sword and took her hand, sweeping her into a group of dancers. As before, they danced well together. She was so happy to be with him she paid little attention to the man whose dark countenance stared at her across the circle of dancers. But she had not forgotten the brief introduction to the man named Ranulf.

When the dance ended, Ranulf took his partner’s hand and crossed the wooden floor to stand before them.

“Merewyn,” he said, bowing. “You might recall we met at the beginning of the evening.”

Merewyn nodded. “Of course.” She glanced at Alex, who was scowling beneath his black brows.

Ranulf turned to the woman at his side. “Lady Adèle, allow me to present Sir Alexander of Talisand and his father’s ward, Merewyn. ”

Alex bowed over the young woman’s hand. “My lady.”

Merewyn offered Lady Adèle a smile. “I am honored to meet you, my lady.”

The woman gave her a dismissive nod, quickly returning her attention to Alex.

Ranulf continued, “Lady Adèle is the daughter of the comte de Vermandois. She has come to London with her father at the invitation of the king.”

Alex stiffened at Merewyn’s side. So this is the woman the king desired him to meet and wants him to wed, most likely. Merewyn had always known this day would come but she had not imagined she would be there to witness it. Alex was handsome and his father a powerful earl who had been a favorite knight of the Conqueror. Now his son was taking his place. Was that what stirred this woman’s interest? If Merewyn were any judge, it seemed to her Lady Adèle was pleased with the match the king intended.

Adèle of Vermandois was a beauty. With her long dark tresses, she reminded Merewyn of Lora, only her eyes were hazel instead of Lora’s dark brown. To Merewyn’s mind, the Norman woman seemed fully aware of her effect upon men. She batted her eyes at Alex, not in the amusing way Merewyn had when teasing him, but in a seductive, predatory manner. “ C’est vraiment très agréable de finalement faire votre connaissance ,” said the dark-haired woman. That she found it most agreeable to have met Alex was clear from the gleam in her eyes.

Before Merewyn could say a word, Ranulf took her hand and said to Alex, “The king wished you to meet Lady Adèle, so I leave her with you for this next dance.” Then shifting his gaze to Merewyn, “I will see to this lovely one.”

Alex sent Ranulf an angry glare, but accepted Lady Adèle’s hand when it was offered and Merewyn was swept away to another group of dancers. She and her partner stood on opposite sides of two long lines as a new song began. Facing her, the look in Ranulf’s dark eyes was lustful, reminding her of that woodland long ago when she was surrounded by a pack of boys. She wished she were dressed as the archer, her bow at the ready.

As the two lines came together, he said, “My lady, you are the most beautiful woman in the hall. I would you were mine.”

She was not flattered. He bore the title of priest yet he wore no priestly garments. Instead, he wore a rich purple tunic that rivaled the king’s. On Ranulf’s fingers were many rings and around his neck hung a heavy golden necklace. She was certain he was a man of dissolute habits who would seduce her if he could, but for all that, she would remind him of his role in the church.

When next the lines of the dancers came together, she said in a low voice, “You are bold for a priest.”

He laughed. “I am many things, my lady. Bold is one of them. As the keeper of the king’s seal, I enjoy his favor.” His dark eyes narrowed on her like a beast siting its prey. “Were I to ask him, he would give you to me, but I would prefer you come to me of your own free will.”

Anger washed over Merewyn at the man’s audacity. “It will never happen!” Did he think her some strumpet to come at his call? He was no different than most men, but she resolved not to embarrass Alex by leaving the lecherous chaplain abruptly, as he deserved. When the dance was over, she would find her noble knight.

Fortunately she did not have to worry. When the dance ended, Alex was there to claim her.

“Ranulf,” Alex said, inclining his head. “We wish you good eve.”

Alex did not give the man time to answer but swept her to the side of the room where wine was being served. Taking a goblet, he thrust it toward her. “From the look of you, you need this.”

Her breathing was labored and not from the dancing. “Thank you.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Aye, I am now.” Alex’s very presence made her feel safe. “That man is loathsome, Alex. You cannot imagine what he said to me.”

“Oh yea, I can.”

With worried eyes, she looked up at him. “He said he could ask the king to give me to him. He would not, would he?”

“He might. But I will not allow it.”

“But Alex, what of that woman, Lady Adèle? Is she not intended for you by the king?”

“I care not,” he said dismissively. “William can find another noble’s son to bind to his lands in Normandy. ”

Rory and Guy appeared then, casting anxious glances at Alex. “We saw what was happening,” said Rory, “but ’twas so fast we could do little and you were there so we did not worry until Ranulf took her off.”

“No matter,” said Alex. “I doubt anything you could have done would have prevented it.”

Suddenly, Duke Robert was at her side. “My lady, would you grant me a dance?”

Merewyn looked to see Alex’s reaction. His brows were drawn together in worry but she did not sense the angry storm of emotion he had displayed when Ranulf Flambard had taken her from him.

“Go with the duke,” he said, smiling at Robert. “I will reclaim your hand when the dance is finished.”

The dark-haired duke, who was twice her age and not much taller than she, flashed her a smile. “I see the young wolf guards you well. Were you mine, I would do the same.”

Merewyn did not like being referred to as something to possess, at least not by men she did not even know, but she placed her hand on the duke’s arm and allowed him to lead her to the dancing. Casting a glance at Alex over her shoulder, she saw his gray eyes had turned as cold as steel.

***

Alex had endured the dance with Lady Adèle, all the while sneaking glances at Merewyn, wondering how she fared. He missed much of what the young Norman noblewoman said, but he remembered her mentioning that her father, the comte de Vermandois, and Earl Renaud were once young knights together. “My father has great respect for the knight they call the Red Wolf,” she had said. “And, I hear his son is much like him.”

Alex hoped he never saw the woman again.

Now he watched Merewyn dancing with Duke Robert. “This evening cannot end soon enough for me,” he said to Rory and Guy. “Merewyn is assailed from all sides. First Ranulf and his indecent threats and now the king’s brother. God only knows who will next appear.”

Sharing a concerned glance with Rory, Guy asked, “What would you have us do? ”

“Find my father and tell him I am taking Merewyn home.”

“Aye, we can do that,” said Rory. “Do you need an escort?”

“Nay, my sword will be sufficient.”

The moment the song ended, Alex was there to take Merewyn’s hand.

Duke Robert bowed to her. “My lady, ’tis been a pleasure. I hope I will yet see you ere we leave London, but a lady guarded by a wolf is not likely to be available for walks along the Strand.”

Alex inclined his head but said nothing. As he led her toward the doors, he leaned in close. “We are leaving.”

“So soon?”

“Aye. I’d not risk you further this night, not with Ranulf lurking about.”

“You are probably right, but the duke was all good manners.”

“Robert has a kindly nature, but he, too, has been known to steal a lady’s virtue.”

“Then ’tis well we go.” She looked up at him with trusting eyes. “It has been wonderful, Alex. Thank you for being with me, even if only for a while.”

He offered his arm and she took it. Likely she believed he would marry Adèle of Vermandois, but he would not. His father might have been compelled by the Conqueror to marry his mother but from what he had determined in his brief time with the Lady Adèle, she was nothing like the Lady of Talisand—or Merewyn. “If I have my way, my lady, ’twill be for much longer.”

Once they had returned to the manor and taken off their cloaks, Alex poured them both a goblet of wine. “Now I can have the wine I would have indulged in at the palace were it not for the need to have all my senses alert to guard you from the circling predators.”

She accepted the goblet he offered her, taking a long draw on the rich red liquid. “I think I prefer the hall at Talisand,” she said with a smile, setting down her goblet. “It is smaller but more welcome and feels like home.”

“Me as well,” he said, placing his goblet on the table. “Come, I will see you to your chamber.”

As they were ascending the stairs, Nelda came up behind them. “ Mistress, do you require me?”

“Nay, Nelda, do whatever you must to prepare for Lady Serena.”

When they arrived at Merewyn’s door, Alex stood back and let her enter.

“Will you not come in to bid me goodnight?” she asked.

How he wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her and teach her the ways of love. He wanted to bind her to him forever. “Merewyn, I can protect you from other men but not from myself. I fear I could not act honorably were we to be alone and a bed nearby.” Their eyes met and a powerful force flowed between them, like a cable of steel, unbreakable. “I would have you as mine forever,” Alex said.

Across her face flitted a look of surprise. A moment passed in which she appeared to hesitate, but then she placed her palm on his chest. “I would have you be mine, also.”

“Can it be we have missed what has always been before us?” he asked. “Friendship has, indeed, become something more, has it not? Or, mayhap I only failed to see that you have always been mine.”

“You have held my heart since that day in the woods long ago when you rescued me.” Smiling, she added, “And still you persist in saving me from danger.”

He took her palm from his chest and turned it toward his lips, kissing the soft skin. “I must leave you now, else I would claim tonight what I desire.”