Chapter Eleven #2
Leaving Zayin and Dudley behind, he continued towards the wagons, looking for the man who was like a brother to him.
Even though Garret had a brother in Rickard, it was different than the ties he felt to men like Christopher.
They’d seen much life and death together on the great quest for Richard and Christendom, and their bond was stronger than blood.
Even though they didn’t see each other frequently, when they did see one another, it was as if they’d never been apart.
Garret wasn’t sure that many good things had come out of the great quest, but he could say for certain that his relationships with his fellow knights had been some of the greatest things he could have experienced.
The bonds that had been forged were more powerful than kings or politics.
It was a brotherhood like none other.
As he neared the armory wagons, he caught sight of a very tall man with a crown of blonde hair, slicked back over his skull.
Coming closer, he caught sight of a square jaw covered by a neatly-trimmed golden beard.
That was the signature look of Christopher de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and Worcester, Defender of the Realm, King Richard’s champion and, perhaps, the greatest knight in England.
He was certainly the greatest one that Garret knew.
“My lord!” he called “Chris!”
Christopher’s head snapped up, his sky-blue eyes focusing in on Garret. The smile that spread across the bearded lips could not have been missed.
“Garret!” he returned, heading towards the man and pushing aside a soldier who didn’t move out his way fast enough. When he finally came close, he reached out and grasped Garret’s outstretched hand. “Tis good to see you, my friend.”
“And you,” Garret said, giving the man’s hand a squeeze.
Then he looked him up and down; at six inches over six feet, Christopher de Lohr was not a man to be missed, in any case, but he was loaded down with the latest mail and weaponry, and Garret found himself fingering the elaborate sheath for the man’s broadsword. “New?
“New and improved.”
“Impressive,” Garret commented. Then, he looked the man in the eye. “You look like a man who is going to war, Chris. What’s it all about?”
Christopher’s smile faded. “Richard sent me a personal request to join him in Normandy,” he said. By the time he finished speaking, his smile was gone completely. “There was no way I could ignore it.”
Garret eyed him. “You speak as if you do not want to go.”
Christopher shrugged. “I do not,” he said frankly. “I have enough to occupy me here at home without traipsing off to another of Richard’s wars. My wife is grossly unhappy about it and I do not blame her.”
“You consider the Normandy battles foolish?”
“Christ, yes. Where to start?”
Garret didn’t have much to say to that but his thoughts were moving to John, to the prince’s activities in London as of late, including the party two nights ago. This was a very bad time for de Lohr to be heading out of the country but he didn’t say that. Christopher already knew.
“What about David?” he asked after a moment. “He commands Canterbury’s army. Why not take him to France?”
Christopher sighed sharply. “Richard wants David here, in close proximity of London, to support Westminster if needed,” he said. “He told me to tell you that. It would seem that even though John has been in support of his brother as of late, Richard evidently does not trust him completely.”
An ironic smirk crossed Garret’s lips. “Walter and I were discussing this yesterday. Walter does not trust John but he said he’d had difficulty convincing Richard to be prudent and not take all of his supporters out of England.”
Christopher didn’t seem to be in agreement.
“The missive I received from Richard suggested the opposite,” he said.
“Mayhap he has finally come to his senses. In any case, if something happens with John, and something has been happening with John for more years than I can recall, then you are to summon my brother to support your forces at Westminster. Above all else, London and Westminster must remain in Richard’s hands. ”
Now Garret was the one to let out a sigh, one that was long and, perhaps, pensive.
“That seems to be the prevailing thought from Walter and now you,” he said.
“John had a party here two nights ago, a celebration for Hawisa’s birthday.
This place was full of the prince’s supporters, including his mercenaries.
French and Teutonic, we think. Or, at least that was the belief when we ran them out of here the morning after the party. Nasty bastards, every one of them.”
Christopher’s gaze moved to Westminster Hall, that massive structure that was bigger than the halls of heaven. “Where is John?”
“He is still here,” Garret said, knowing the history of war and hatred between John and Richard’s Defender. “I am sure he is still asleep so it is possible you will not see him at all whilst you are here. How long will you stay, by the way?”
Christopher shook his head. “Not long,” he replied.
“Long enough to take on more supplies, water the horses, and then we must meet the de Winter men near the Tower to take cogs to Dieppe. We have come in from Beaconsfield this morning, so it has already been a long day. Now, send for Walter, feed me, and let us speak before I continue on to France. There is much to discuss.”
Garret was thinking that no truer words had ever been spoken.
With the unexpected appearance of Christopher, his mind moved from John to Lyssa and his conversation with Rose the night before.
He’d told the old woman that he would find another house for Lyssa to go to, somewhere far away from Colchester and his deviant behavior.
He’d even mentioned the House of de Lohr but he had no idea that an opportunity like this would drop into his lap.
It would save him the days and weeks of waiting for a response to an inquiry.
In fact, he was starting to think that de Lohr’s arrival was most fortuitous. Even if Christopher wasn’t happy to be here, Garret was very happy to see him.
“Indeed, there is a great deal to discuss,” he finally said. “More than you know. Personal matters, in fact.”
Christopher looked at him with interest. “Oh? What personal matters?”
Garret could only shake his head, a glimmer of mirth in his eye. “You will not believe it.”
Christopher clapped him on the shoulder, turning him for the man’s private solar where food and drink awaited. “Is that so? Then I am intrigued.”
Garret had to grin. “As well you should be.”
“From the expression on your face, I am coming to think that whatever is on your mind has nothing to do with politics.”
Garret tried to erase the smile from his face. “What makes you think so?”
Christopher snorted. “Because I know you, Garret. You look like a man who has a secret.”
Garret was fairly certain Christopher couldn’t imagine the half of it.
*
“Tell me more about John’s party, Garret. Do you have reason to believe it was something more than a party – mayhap even a show of force for the prince?”
The question filled the sticky air of Garret’s solar.
It was filled with men who had all served together in The Levant, a place where they could speak freely, on any subject, including those that would only be discussed privately.
But within the old stone walls, there was a circle of trust that would never be broken.
That was why Christopher had asked the question so openly; there was no fear of the wrong men overhearing.
Garret was standing near the table that held his maps and official edicts, a massive piece of furniture that could easily hold four big men on its surface. Around the table sat Gart, Rhys, Gavin and Knox, having finished their duties with the ill men. Zayin was back against the wall behind it.
Across from them stood Christopher, with a second cup of watered wine in his hand, as well as Dudley, Max, and a very young knight who had once been Christopher’s squire.
Sir Darren Ainsley had practically been raised by Christopher after the death of his father and now was an excellent knight thanks to the training he’d received in the House of de Lohr.
It was a gathering of friends as far as Garret was concerned although there were some very serious issues at hand, including the one they were currently discussing. It was a continuation of his conversation with Christopher out in the bailey, now brought inside to expand upon.
“It did not seem that way to me,” Garret replied to the question. “It was a celebration of the day of birth for Hawisa and had all of the trappings of a female party. There were women everywhere so I never received the impression that it was a war conference.”
Christopher mulled over the answer. “You are aware that John and I have had many problems over the years,” he said.
“John can do as he wishes and there is no punishment, not from Richard or anyone else. Unfortunately, he was raised that way. He has been fighting his brothers or his father since he was a very young man and it is a way of life for him. Being on the Welsh Marches much of the time, I do not keep track of his daily activities like you do, Garret. What more can you tell me that I can take to Richard?”