Chapter Two #4
John answered. “I think I understand,” he said.
“The House of de Reyne has a large presence in Northumberland and moving against one branch would offend the others. I, myself, am allied with the de Reynes of Throston Castle to the north and they are related to Stagshaw. I would not wish to offend Creed de Reyne.”
De Luci nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “Neighbor disputes like this are always delicate, so the knights of Northwood suggested I find a mercenary army to handle the problem. For the right price, they will take care of de Reyne and I will still be the only warlord involved.”
“And did you find one?” John asked. “There are armies in France simply waiting to be hired. There is big money in professional armies, especially since the return from The Levant forty years ago. Lords pay good money to hire men with experience from those mighty crusades, or at least they used to. Those veteran crusaders are quite old these days, but the business of professional armies is still a lucrative one.”
“I did find an army, in fact,” de Luci said. “At the recommendation of Michael, I went to London, to a rather seedy establishment near the river called The Pox. It is a gambling establishment and so much more. One can find almost anything there for a price.”
“Like an army?”
“Like an agent who will broker the deal,” de Luci said. “I found one such agent in Ramíro Garcia Diez, a man I was referred to by the owner of The Pox. Diez is an agent for a mercenary army from Navarre.”
“An agent?” Wynter asked curiously.
“A man who travels the world, looking for clients for the army,” de Luci said. “Men who will pay a great deal for their soldiers to fight their battles.”
Wynter looked at her father in surprise. “There are such agents?”
John nodded. “There are many such agents,” he said. “They negotiate a deal and take a fee for their services.”
That was a new concept for Wynter. “How very interesting,” she said, returning her attention to de Luci. “And you hired this army from Navarre?”
De Luci nodded. “I did,” he said. “It has cost me a great deal, but they are almost two hundred and fifty of the best men money can buy led by a man known as El Vibora.”
Wynter was fascinated. “What does that mean?”
“The Viper, I’m told,” de Luci said. “They should be arriving soon. They were supposed to arrive in London by the first of the month and make their way north.”
“And you feel that this will solve your problem?” John asked.
He didn’t seem as fascinated by the idea of a mercenary army from Navarre as his daughter did.
“While I understand why you did not call upon your allies to help you in this dispute, bringing a mercenary army into Northumberland might prove… tricky.”
De Luci’s attention shifted to John. “I know what you are thinking,” he said.
“They are soldiers of fortune. They do it for the money and the last thing we need is a mercenary army roaming around Northumberland once their task for me is finished, but I was assured by Diez that this is their vocation. They are not marauders who will take to raiding the countryside – they are paid for their skill, as a professional army. When they are finished with one task, they will move on to the next.”
“And if they do not behave professionally? What then?”
De Luci sighed heavily. “Then I will call upon my allies to help me rid Northumberland of a scavenger army and spend the rest of my life making it up you.”
He was half-serious, half-not. John pondered that for a moment before finally shaking his head.
“Damn Stagshaw,” he muttered. “This is all his fault.”
Wynter was looking between her father and de Luci, thinking on Boothe de Reyne and his reclusive lifestyle for the past several years.
Given the fact that she was a somewhat unconventional woman with unconventional ideas, she had learned something of military history and strategy from her father, who had no son to teach it to, so he spoke to a daughter willing to listen.
It wasn’t so much that he was teaching her as it was simply a conversation of interest. But at this moment, Wynter had some thoughts about de Luci’s situation based on her past discussions with her father.
“Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but won’t a mercenary army inflame Lord Stagshaw?
” she said. “If I wanted something very badly from someone, even if it was not rightfully mine and that person hired a professional army to attack me, being an irrational creature anyway, I might view myself as a victim of aggression. Will that not exacerbate the situation?”
De Luci looked at her with a glimmer of approval in his eyes as John considered her suggestion seriously.
“It is possible,” he said. “Boothe was never beyond making himself out to be a victim in any situation that did not go his way, so it is quite possible he will do that. Brian, mayhap you should have a neutral party ride with the mercenaries to document what happens. That way, if Stagshaw cries to everyone that you have become the aggressor, there will be a perspective to balance it out.”
De Luci nodded. “An excellent suggestion,” he said. “Who should I ask?”
“De Vries,” Wynter said before her father could speak. “I would suggest Clark, Papa. Wouldn’t you? His reputation for fairness is unparalleled.”
It was a good suggestion and John cocked his head thoughtfully. “Mayhap,” he said. “I will speak with him.”
“Good.”
John was about to say something more about the situation but the expression on de Luci’s face as he looked at Wynter had him reconsidering.
The man was looking at his daughter without the usual nerves.
Instead, he looked relaxed and… interested.
So very interested. John cleared his throat softly and quickly stood up.
“Wynnie, entertain Brian for a moment while I step away,” he said. “I will find Clark and bring him back to join the conversation. He must hear of the situation from de Luci’s lips and decide if he wants to participate.”
Wynter wasn’t a fool. She realized why her father was suddenly bolting for the door. “Papa, I…”
“I will be right back!”
He was through the door before she could stop him, nearly slamming it shut in his wake. Suddenly alone with de Luci, Wynter looked at the man and smiled wanly.
“I hope my father can help you, my lord,” she said, feeling awkward. “But I must say that he probably should not have left us alone. I do not think my mother would like it.”
De Luci abruptly stood up and moved for the door, but he didn’t leave. He just stood there, trying not to look nervous again.
“Then I will remain next to the door, a goodly distance from you, so that you will not feel threatened,” he said.
“I… I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, my lady, but I fear that is all I do. I have come to Ashleven regularly for the past two years and it seems all I ever do is make a fool of myself. For that, I am sorry. I am simply not an eloquent man.”
Wynter felt the least bit of pity for the man.
“Unfortunately, I am not a good conversationalist, either,” she said.
“Young women are taught to speak of subjects that men may find of interest, like religion and horses, but I am afraid I started my schooling from the Brothers in God at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and they are simply not conversationalists. It wasn’t until years later that I went to Alnwick for a time and learned what finely bred young women are supposed to know. ”
That brought a timid smile from de Luci. “It’s usually young boys who are taught by monks,” he said. “That is usually harsh schooling.”
Wynter shrugged. “My nurse thought I was incorrigible, so my mother sent me to the brothers,” she said.
“I went for several months, schooled with other children who were considered incorrigible by their noble parents, until I came home to visit for Martinmas and my mother saw the welts upon my hands where they had beat me. After that, she kept me at home and hired a former nun to come and teach my sisters and me. When the nun could do no more, I was sent to Alnwick.”
“Did you at least enjoy your time there?”
Wynter nodded. “I did,” she said. “I made friends and I learned the finer pursuits of ladies, but truthfully? The monks were harsh taskmasters, but I enjoyed their lessons more.”
He grinned. “Why is that?”
Wynter caught a glimpse of her father’s gold-inlaid table, filled with maps and documents. She picked up a piece of vellum that happened to have a tally on it for the sale of a herd of sheep her father had sold to a neighbor.
She peered at the numbers.
“Because of things like this,” she said.
“Things that matter. Mathematics and the exchange of money, or maps of the world, or the movement of the stars. I was never satisfied with the gentle pursuits. If I am to be taught, I want it to be something of substance, something I can understand. I want to know everything I can. Is that wrong?”
De Luci wasn’t looking so nervous anymore. This was the most conversation he’d ever had with Wynter and he was enjoying it immensely. “Of course it is not wrong,” he said. “You are a bright woman. There is no crime in wanting to learn things.”
Wynter looked up from the vellum, smiling at him.
“Thank you,” she said. “I do not think it is a crime, either. But something the monks didn’t like was the fact that I like to put on entertainments.
There is something wholly satisfying about becoming Adam or Esther or even a Greek god.
There is something within me that craves such displays, as if I am… ”
She suddenly stopped and de Luci leaned back against the wall, folding his big arms over his chest. “Go on,” he said. “As if you are what?”
Embarrassed because she was speaking of some of her most innermost thoughts to a man she wasn’t particularly interested in, she simply shook her head.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Some women love to paint, others to sew or sing, but me… I’ve always wanted to become other people and by doing so, entertain others and make them feel happy or sad.
It is no great secret that I like to entertain and write my own stories. I’m afraid you saw one of those today.”
De Luci smiled faintly. “I would watch anything you do,” he said. “You are expressing yourself, as you said. Some people paint, some sing, but you find satisfaction in becoming someone else and living their story.”
He was surprisingly intuitive for a man who seemed so ill at ease with her.
“Exactly,” she said. “That is exactly how I feel. I like to become someone else and live their story. I have been doing it since I was quite young, but I am sorry if I embarrassed you today. Spring… well, she is not a very good Salome, but she tries.”
De Luci put a hand over his mouth and Wynter could see that he was snorting. “She did indeed try, very hard.”
“It would be nice if you told her that the next time you see her. Papa said things to her that weren’t very nice about dancing for you.”
His smile faded. “It was not necessary,” he said. “I did not mind. As I said, I would watch you do anything. Anything at all.”
The conversation was starting to take a decided turn. Wynter, sensing that there was something romantic in his statement, set the vellum down and stood up from her chair.
“You are very kind, my lord,” she said rather formally. “Will you be staying for the evening’s feast?”
De Luci nodded. “I will,” he said. “Mayhap… mayhap we can continue this conversation?”
There was such hope in his voice. Wynter found herself taking a good look at the man – well built, blond, and not unhandsome.
He had ruggedly handsome features and eyes that were filled with anticipation.
At that moment, she remembered what her father had said to her – if you want a man who will bow to your every wish, de Luci is that man.
She looked at him, hoping to feel a spark or something that suggested she was attracted to him, but nothing was forthcoming.
Her father had said that there were things more important to a marriage other than love.
At twenty years and two, she wasn’t getting any younger.
“I would be delighted,” she said after a moment, though she didn’t mean it. “If you will excuse me, my lord.”
There was a great deal of warmth and relief in de Luci’s eyes. “Gladly, my lady,” he said. “I look forward to tonight.”
All Wynter could manage was a weak smile before she closed the door. But heading back to her chamber, there were tears in her eyes.