Chapter Three
Later that evening
“I have spent the past fifty-eight years of my life unmarried and quite happy about it,” an older man, big and gray-haired, spoke angrily to the king. “Did you not think to ask before saddling me with a wife?”
Victor de Ferrers, Duke of Dorset, was facing off against his cousin, a confrontation that had been two months in the making.
In the small feasting room adjoining the royal apartments, they had gathered to share a meal with courtiers and honored guests.
Victor and Edward were the only men in the room at that moment, which was a good thing, because Victor had a great deal to say to his cousin.
Having arrived at Thorney Island an hour earlier, he hadn’t waited to vent his rage. He went straight to the source.
Edward hadn’t been prepared for such resistance but, in truth, it didn’t surprise him.
He had expected something of a reluctant stance from his lifelong bachelor cousin; it was a common rumor at court that Victor de Ferrers kept male lovers, preferably young and beautiful, but Edward had never seen proof and he frankly didn’t care.
The man was going to do what Edward wanted him to do – he was going to accept a prestigious knight and a bride of noble blood because Edward didn’t relish the thought of paying the man back for all of his contributions.
Gifting him with a wife and a knight seemed like fair compensation for those things.
“I realize that your life is your own, cousin,” Edward said evenly. “But you are growing older and a man has a need for heirs. You have none, not even bastards that I have heard of. Dorset will become mine when you die if you do not have an heir. Surely that is not an appealing prospect to you.”
Victor put his hands on his hips in an angry gesture. “Heir,” he grunted, turning away. “I do not intend that my wealth and title should go to an heir.”
Edward frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”
Victor simply shook his head, now kicking at the floor with sharp, frustrated movements.
“Just that,” he said. “I have no use for a wife or heirs. You take all of my money as it is, so my title and wealth may as well go to you when I die. If it goes to an heir, you will simply take it anyway. You needn’t be so coy with me about your intentions. ”
Edward sighed heavily, turning to sit at one of two large feasting tables in the room.
This is where he had cozy suppers with his wife and close advisors, and sometimes even his children.
It was a room he felt comfortable in, one that his father and his father before him had used, with a series of long, slender windows that overlooked the Thames.
He could feel a chill breeze coming in off the river.
“It is my intention to reward you for your generosity towards the crown,” Edward finally said. “Why must you make it sound as if I am punishing you?”
Victor eyed his cousin. A shrewd man with a head for business, Victor was cunning and calculating.
He knew why Edward was gifting him with people instead of property.
He knew very well that the man didn’t want to pay him back for all of the money and men he’d donated to his cause.
He was therefore gifting him with things he could not use – namely a wife he did not want.
Edward thought it was an honor but Victor didn’t view it that way.
“Because you are,” Victor said. “You are forcing a wife upon me.”
Edward poured himself some wine from a pewter pitcher on the table.
“She is the bastard daughter of Rhodri ap Gruffydd,” he told his cousin what the man already knew.
“She is his only daughter. Her mother is a Marshal, a descendant of William Marshal’s brother, Gilbert, but do not ask me how the Marshal woman and Rhodri came together for I do not know.
The woman was serving at Lioncross Abbey when all of this happened and the Marcher Lords of de Lohr turned the child over to me when she was born.
Much like her female cousins, daughters of the great Welsh princes Dafydd and Llewelyn, the infant was sent to a priory of my choosing far from the Welsh Marches.
She has spent all eighteen years of her life there. ”
Victor was standing near the hearth, arms crossed unhappily. “Then send her back,” he said. “Or find someone else to marry her, for I do not want her.”
Edward lifted an eyebrow as he contemplated the contents of his cup.
“This is for your own good, Victor,” he said, his voice low.
“I am giving you a wife of Welsh royal blood. Half-blood, in any case. Think how magnificent a son would be from her bloodlines and yours. It is my intention to rule Wales any way I can, even if I have to breed loyalty from the very loins of those who would resist me. I am breeding her to you because of your English royal blood. I want that bloodline to continue, too. Do you understand what I am asking of you? Breed a son for me, another Duke of Dorset, who will be loyal to the crown in all things. I am asking you this, Victor, as both your monarch and your cousin. Breed a son for me of such magnificence that I can be proud of and let us water down the Welsh blood with that of English strength.”
Victor could hear the passion in the man’s voice as he spoke of breeding the Welsh into submission.
There was hatred infused in that tone, and desperation and desire.
All of those things were in Edward’s voice as he spoke and even as Victor resisted the idea of a wife, he knew that his resistance would do no good.
Edward’s mind was made up. But Victor still wouldn’t give in so easily.
“You have so many vassals,” he said, moving away from the hearth and heading towards the wine.
He found he needed it. “Why me? Why not some other family on the Marches? A marriage to a woman of royal Welsh blood would mean more to them. Surely de Broase or Clifford have sons you could marry her to.”
Edward shook his head. “You are of royal blood,” he pointed out.
“Your mother was a sister of my grandfather and she married into the great de Ferrer family. Can you not see the genius in a son with the mixed bloodlines of English and Welsh royalty? Don’t you want to take pride in a son, Victor?
If you don’t, then there is something wrong with you. ”
Victor cocked a graying eyebrow. “Mayhap there is,” he said, feeling his frustration on the upswing again. “If I’d wanted a wife, I would already have one by now. You have no right to do this.”
Edward was finished arguing with the man.
“Are we truly to enter into this circular conversation again?” he asked drolly.
“You do not want a wife but I am giving you one. Let us cut to the meat of the situation; no amount of arguing is going to cause me to change my mind, so it would be better if you kept your mouth shut. You are succeeding in infuriating me and that is not a good thing. I am not, however, unsympathetic to your plight. I know this is not a welcome addition to your life so I intend to sweeten the deal. In addition to a wife, I intend to gift you with a knight of legendary skills and reputation, a man known not only in England but throughout the known world. He made a name for himself as a paid assassin in the Levant and now I intend that he should serve you. It will be quite a prideful thing to have this man in your command.”
Victor wasn’t particularly interested in what Edward was saying until he came to the part about the knight.
The gifting of a knight from the king to a lord was considered quite prestigious because the king would only gift men he held in very high esteem, men of great talent and power.
It was, indeed, a great honor to be gifted with a knight of the highest order and Victor, being a man who prided himself on his great stable of knights as well as a well-equipped army, was definitely interested in receiving a prominent warrior.
“Who is this knight?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
Edward felt very smug in his reply, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Have you ever heard of the Scorpion?” he asked, sitting forward and resting his arms on the table.
“He is an English knight who has carved out quite a reputation for himself in the Levant. He is a hired assassin and it is said that no man escapes him. He is as silent as a scorpion and twice as deadly.”
Victor’s interest grew and a light of pleasure came to his eye. “I do not believe I have heard of the man,” he said. “But that is not surprising. I do not have great contact with travelers and diplomats as you do. So he is impressive?”
“Vastly.”
“And his skills are beyond compare?”
“You will be the envy of every warlord in England.”
That was something that appealed to Victor’s vanity very much since he was well known for his collection of highly skilled knights. “Is this so?” he asked. “What of his family?”
Seeing that he finally had Victor’s interest, Edward sat back to pour himself more wine.
“He comes from the House of Hage,” he said.
“Saxon royalty. A few centuries ago, they ruled southern Mercia, but since the Normans came they have assimilated themselves into the new order of England. His father was a very great knight who served the legendary Wolfe of the border, William de Wolfe.”
Victor was impressed. “Of course I have heard of de Wolfe,” he said. “And you say the Scorpion’s father served the man?”
“They were the best of friends.”
Victor pondered the lineage of the mysterious Scorpion. “Then he hails from fine stock indeed. Have you met the man?”
Edward nodded. “I have only just met him,” he said. “You will meet him tonight. In fact, he is to join us for sup in a few minutes along with your new bride.”