Chapter Two #2
Annavieve watched the men as they approached.
The city of London was off to the north and east but fingers of habitation had spread out to the west, clusters of huts along poorly kept avenues.
Sometimes she could look to the west and see children playing in the filth of the streets and for the past two months, she had watched these children and silently lamented the fact that she had never had such a childhood.
Her upbringing had been strict and pious, with time only to work and pray.
She’d never run in the streets with others, laughing and playing.
But the children were gone on this day as it neared sunset and the trio of knights came up from the south, heading into the south entrance of the palace.
Annavieve watched the trio until they disappeared from sight near the gatehouse of Thorney Island.
Thorney Island itself was a massive complex of sanctuary and royal residences, so once the three men entered the gatehouse, she lost interest because she knew it would be the last she would ever see of them.
Thoughts of the knights quickly faded, as did thoughts of the children who usually ran in the streets, as she returned to her chair and collected her sewing.
It was what was expected of her and she resigned herself to it; sewing, being obedient, and never knowing anything other than a polite and captive life.
That, as far as she was concerned, was her destiny in spite of what Magda said.
There was no greatness on the horizon that she could see.
But she was wrong. Annavieve, the young woman who had hardly been out of Sempringham her entire life, the bastard daughter of a lesser Welsh prince, could not have known that those three knights she had watched were harbingers of a destiny to unfold.
Harbingers of the greatest love story of her time, something that bards and minstrels would write odes to.
Those three men, and one in particular, would change her fate more than she could ever realize.
Those three knights were a vision that would change her life forever.
*
“Scorpion,” came the satisfied hiss. “Finally, we are introduced. I have heard great tales of your exploits in the Levant. I wanted to meet this great English knight whom I have taken pride in. Well? Tell me who you really are. I want to hear everything about you.”
In the lavish and formal reception room for the King of England, Kevin was on a knee before the rather excited monarch. Exhausted from months of travel, including three days across the southern portion of England, Kevin hadn’t even been afforded time to breathe since his arrival at Thorney Island.
From the moment he announced himself which, not surprisingly, was somewhat difficult because he had to tell the guards the only name the king would recognize – Scorpion – he had been ushered straight to the king’s reception hall without being given the opportunity to secure his saddlebags.
He was carrying them with him even now, slung over one enormous shoulder, as he knelt before Edward.
But the king didn’t notice and, even if he did, he didn’t care.
He was obviously thrilled to finally have the English knight known as the Scorpion before him and he was singularly focused in his excitement.
“Indeed, Your Grace,” Kevin replied to the monarch, keeping his gaze lowered as a show of respect. “Where shall I start?”
Edward laughed. “Excellent question,” he said with his somewhat prominent lisp.
Then, he motioned to Kevin and his companions.
“Please, rise. You may start by telling me your family name. I am anxious to know because it seems as if no one in England could tell me where you came from. All I was able to discover is that you were English and little more. All my military advisors can speak of are the Scorpion and his tales of glory as being relayed by men who served with you in the Levant. That is also how I heard you were coming back to England. Now, I would know who, precisely, the Scorpion is. Tell me.”
Rising wearily to his feet, Kevin adjusted the bags on his shoulder, grunting because his back was paining him this day.
It was simply exhaustion, he knew. The king was standing directly in front of him, a tall and slender man with graying blond hair and one droopy eye.
His dark eyes, however, were intense upon Kevin and Kevin thought back to the first time he had met Edward those years ago when he had been pretending to be a Welsh rebel.
It had been a dark and chaotic night, but he remembered his introduction to Edward in that dim tent on the field of battle quite well.
“I suppose it would not do any good to tell you that I am not Bhrodi de Shera, would it?” Kevin had asked rather drolly.
Edward had lifted his eyebrows in feigned interest. “Who else could you possibly be?” he had asked mockingly. “Another Welsh prince I do not know about yet?”
“There could be more who are in hiding,” Kevin had replied, “like Dafydd.”
Edward’s expression had tightened. “What do you know about Dafydd?”
Kevin shook his head. “I wish I knew more than I did,” he had said. “If I knew where he was, I would be with him now and not in the middle of an English camp.”
The king had regarded him closely. “You speak English extremely well,” he had said. “In fact, I cannot detect a Welsh accent at all. That is a surprise, de Shera. But, then again, you did foster in England so I suppose your mastery of the language would be impeccable.”
As Kevin gazed at Edward, he kept expecting the king to recognize him but as the moments passed, the king remained completely oblivious.
Not a hint of a royal recollection. Kevin thought that the man would surely recognize his voice but as of yet, he had not, and realization swept him; he does not know me, Kevin thought with relief.
The truth was that Kevin had been worried about his meeting with the king, worried more as they drew closer to London.
Now, he felt a distinct sense of relief as he faced the man who was perhaps three inches shorter than he was.
As tall as Edward was, Kevin was taller and much more muscular.
He was a giant among men, exactly as someone with the nickname of Scorpion would imagine to be.
With relief in his heart, still, Kevin was careful in how he continued the conversation.
He did not want to be overconfident in the king’s failure to recognize him only to fall victim to his own arrogance.
The evening was still young and much could still happen.
With that in mind, he continued hesitantly.
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Kevin said in reply to the king’s question, shifting on his big legs.
“I am Sir Kevin Hage, son of Sir Kieran Hage. My father served at Northwood Castle in his youth with William de Wolfe, who is also my godfather. I have been on a six year pilgrimage to the Holy Land and have just returned home to England. We arrived at Dover three days ago.”
The light of recognition went on in Edward’s eyes. “Hage,” he repeated slowly. “Aye, I knew your father. And everyone knows of William de Wolfe; he was a great friend of my father’s.”
Kevin nodded. “He is a great man, Your Grace.”
Edward’s gaze lingered on him. “I was very sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” he said. “Please accept my condolences. He was an excellent knight with a great legacy.”
It was a part of the conversation he had not expected and, suddenly, Kevin felt as if he’d been hit in the chest. His breath left him and he actually staggered, struggling to collect himself. His emerald-green eyes were wide with shock.
“My… my father is dead?” he repeated, breathless. “I…I had not heard this. The last word I received from my mother was three years ago and she told of my father’s bad health but I did not know… Sweet Mary, I did not know he had passed.”
Edward looked at him with concern, realizing he had divulged something that perhaps he should not have.
At least, perhaps he should have been more careful about it, in any case.
The man had been out of England for six years, after all, and news did not travel swiftly.
He could see that Kevin was clearly stunned by the news.
“Then you will forgive me for the manner in which I told you,” he said, feeling somewhat guilty. “I did not realize that you were unaware. He died two years ago.”
Two years ago! All Kevin could think of at that moment was his father.
A bigger man he had never met, larger than life, with a calm, soothing manner and a great booming laugh when he allowed himself to show it.
He had been one of the best knights England had ever seen, fighting alongside the legendary Wolfe and many other legendary Northwood knights – Paris de Norville, Michael de Bocage, Deinwald Ellsrod, Ranulf Kluge…
so many great and legendary knights. Now, the legend that was Kieran Hage had passed into the ages.
Astonished, deeply grieved, all Kevin could do was hang his head.
“I did not know,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I must return home to see my mother now. What else have you heard, Your Grace? De Wolfe? De Norville? Are they still alive?”
Edward nodded. “They are still,” he replied. “I received word of your father’s passing from another lord who had recently been to the north. I have heard from de Wolfe and de Norville since that time so I know they are still alive.”
More guilt and grief struck Kevin. He couldn’t shake visions of his father when he had told the man that he was going to the Levant.
His father had begged him not to go and then when Kevin would not be swayed, he was determined to go with him.
Kevin not only had to fight his father off but his mother as well, a fiery Scotswoman who was both the most compassionate woman alive and the fiercest. Kevin finally dissuaded them both from going with him and that was when Kieran asked Adonis and Thomas to go, to tend his son because he knew how badly the man was hurting from his love lost.
That was the last time Kevin had seen his father alive.
It had been a good parting as he remembered it.
He had managed to tell his father that he loved him and Kieran had returned that love.
That deep, fatherly love that Kevin would never feel again.
Still, it was a parting well-made. As Kevin fought off the lump in his throat, he was thankful for small mercies.
He was thankful that the last he remembered of his father was the man’s embrace.
“Thank you for the information, Your Grace,” he said tightly. “I am appreciative.”
Edward was watching the man very closely as he struggled with his sorrow.
He wanted to ask him more questions and come to know him better but he suspected that now was not the time.
As selfish as Edward was, he was not without compassion.
The king glanced at his advisors, who also seemed to be under the same impression he was; better to speak to the Scorpion tonight when he has calmed. He returned his focus to Kevin.
“We will feast tonight and celebrate your father’s life,” Edward said, trying to lighten the mood.
“It is my intention to reward you for your great service in the Holy Land for you have given me a source of pride without even being aware of it. To have the great English knight known as the Scorpion in my arsenal is a prideful thing, indeed. Tonight, we will feast and I will show my thanks. To whom did you swear fealty to before you went to the Levant?”
“To my father.”
“Then I shall accept your fealty now. You will serve me.”
Kevin was sinking more and more into a daze of grief but managed to nod his head. “Indeed, Your Grace,” he said. “I am honored.”
With that, Edward motioned to a hovering house servant and the man took charge of Kevin and the other two knights, directing them from the hall so that they could be shown a place to rest.
As the trio of knights followed the well-dressed servant, Edward’s gaze continued to linger on the man who had identified himself as Sir Kevin Hage.
Scorpion. Perhaps the only unselfish thing Edward had done all day was allow Hage to rest and come to terms with his father’s passing instead of pressing his own agenda and demanding stories of his adventures in the Levant.
Unselfish, indeed, but tonight would see none of that restraint.
Edward wanted to know more about the man known as the Scorpion and he wanted to inform the man of his new responsibilities.
He’d called it a “reward” for service in the Holy Land but the truth was that it was more of a gift to the man who would receive Kevin’s services rather than an actual reward for Kevin personally.
Now that Kevin’s service belonged to Edward, he would do with him as he pleased. He had plans for the man.
Sir Victor de Ferrers, Duke of Dorset and a powerful cousin to the king, would soon be receiving the services of the Scorpion in payment for all of the funds and manpower de Ferrers had supplied the king for his battles in Wales.
Victor was enormously rich and Edward had relied heavily on his cousin’s wealth to fund his war machine.
As a reward for his generosity, Victor would be receiving two great gifts this night – the mighty Scorpion and also the first glimpse of his betrothed, the luscious Lady Annavieve Fitz Roderick.
Indeed, Victor was to be a very fortunate man this night.
He hoped that Hage viewed his new assignment as an honor as well.
Deep down, Edward seriously doubted it.