Chapter Twelve #2
Annavieve shook her head. “Nay, my lord,” she replied. “My mother is a Marshal.”
William appeared surprised. “Marshal?” he said, looking back and forth between Victor and Annavieve. “It is unfortunate that the Earls of Pembroke are now all but extinct. Who was your mother’s father?”
“Gilbert,” Annavieve replied. “The last Earl of Pembroke. My mother was an illegitimate offspring but she still carried the Marshal name.”
William found it fascinating to have met one of the last Marshals, a descendant of a once-great house. “I see,” he said. “And your mother? Is she still alive?”
Annavieve shrugged. “I do not know, my lord,” she said. “I was given up at birth and have never had contact with her. If she is dead, I was not told.”
It seemed like a rather sorrowful situation to William but given what he knew about Edward’s confinement of Welsh royal offspring, the truth of the matter was not shocking. The duchess gave no hint that the situation distressed her.
“Well,” William said rather crisply, hoping to change the subject. “I hope you enjoy your time spent at Longcross. Many great houses have come to compete, including your husband’s cousins from the earldom of Derby.”
Victor, bored with the conversation that centered around his wife, went to pour himself some wine. “They bring poor competition to this event,” he sniffed. “The only great house of de Ferrers is mine.”
William laughed softly at his ego. “Mayhap that is true,” he said. “But the House of de Lohr is here and they bring the de Lohr lions. The sons of de Lohr are difficult to beat, Victor.”
“De Lohr?” Annavieve suddenly spoke up. “I… I was born at Lioncross Abbey, my lord. It was where my mother fostered and where she remained to serve the countess when she grew older.”
William accepted a cup of wine from Victor. “Is that so?” he said, interested. “The entire house is here including the earl and his wife. Mayhap your mother is with them?”
Annavieve’s breath caught in her throat; she couldn’t even dare to hope. “I… I would not know, my lord.”
“What is your mother’s name?”
“Alys, my lord.”
“Alys,” William repeated. “I will send word to the de Lohr camp to find out if Lady Alys Marshal is with them. If she is, then mayhap you will finally meet your mother.”
There was a lump in Annavieve’s throat. She couldn’t even speak.
The prospect of meeting her mother was something she’d given up on long ago, something she didn’t even think about these days.
But with Salisbury’s gentle suggestion, she was overwhelmed with the possibility.
In all places, at a tournament in the wilds of Surrey, something she had given up on so long ago might become a reality. The very idea was astonishing.
“If… if my husband approves, then I am very grateful, my lord,” she said, her voice tight. “It is very kind of you to make the effort.”
William smiled kindly. “Not at all,” he said, eyeing Victor. “I would have thought your husband would have made the gesture but since he has not, I will make the offer. I will send word today.”
Victor looked at William, his lips pursed irritably.
“Your kindness is overwhelming,” he said sarcastically.
“Now that we have finished planning a lovely family reunion, mayhap we can speak of something else. You’ve not said a word to Hage yet.
Greet him, William. Meet the man who shall best your knights in the tournament. ”
William chuckled at Victor’s vanity as his focus turned to the enormous man with the shaved head. “Hage,” he greeted. “I understand your father served with William de Wolfe.”
Kevin, who had been looking at Annavieve with some concern over her emotional state regarding the possibility of meeting her mother, turned his attention to Salisbury.
“Indeed he did, my lord,” he replied.
William inspected the knight; he was tall, hulking, and reeked of death. He had a bandage around his left thigh, with small blood stains, and he wondered how the man got it. Everything about him looked positively terrifying.
“So you were in the Levant, were you?” William said. “I have traveled as far as Italy but not beyond. I would be interested to know of your take on the land and the people of the Levant. Mayhap I should want to go there someday.”
Kevin nodded his head, pleased that the man was showing sense and not begging for stories on how he gained his nickname. For once, a lord who didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by his reputation like a star-struck stable boy.
“It is a beautiful land, my lord,” Kevin said. “It is much different from England, as if it is an entirely new world. But, much like any other place in the known world, it has its drawbacks as well as its attraction.”
Victor sipped at his wine. “I am sure that is true,” he said. “What made you choose to go to such a place? England no longer demands we fight for the right to free the Holy Land from the infidels. Why did you go?”
At least he isn’t demanding I tell him stories of my cunning, Kevin thought wryly, but asking the reason I went is nearly as bad. “I went for the adventure of it, my lord,” he said simply, which was his standard answer when people asked. “I went because I could.”
William grinned as he took another drink of wine. “An honest answer,” he said. “But I hear you earned yourself a fearsome reputation there.”
“Some would say so, my lord.”
William glanced at Victor. “Your liege seems to think you are invincible and legendary,” he said. “He is quite excited to have you in his stable.”
“I am honored, my lord.”
William’s gaze lingered on Kevin, appraising him, as Victor poured more wine into his cup. “He is invincible,” Victor said firmly. “In fact, this is the man who will bring Roger’s murderer to justice.”
Some of the pleasantness went out of William’s expression. He seemed to sag as the winds of sorrow blew over him, fragile memories of his dead son filling his mind.
“Aye,” he said, his voice somewhat quieter. “It will be a distasteful task but a necessary one.”
Roger! Kevin thought with astonishment. He was already well aware that he had killed Salisbury’s son and was hoping the issue of children or sons never came up, at least not at this early introduction, but it was evident that very subject was about to be incorporated into the conversation.
And what had Victor just said? Did he actually suggest that he wanted Kevin to bring Roger’s murderer to justice?
Kevin was suddenly listening very, very closely to what would undoubtedly turn out to be a bizarre and ironic conversation.
“What’s this, my lord?” he addressed Victor, “You speak of a murderer?”
Victor nodded. He was already on his second cup of wine, his expression grim.
“William’s heir, Roger, Viscount Twyford, was murdered in Dover recently.
Being that William and Roger are very good friends of mine, I have vowed to help them bring the murderer to justice.
That is where you come in, Hage; I want you to find out who killed the viscount and bring him to us for our good justice. ”
Kevin felt as if he’d just been hit in the gut with a battering ram.
All of his breath left him and, for a moment, he simply stared at Victor.
Don’t give yourself away! His mind screamed.
Fortunately, he was very good at covering his emotions and the Hage impassiveness, the neutral facade of the Scorpion, held firm.
No hint of his astonishment appeared through the cracks. He looked steadily at William.
“I am sorry to hear of your son’s demise, my lord,” he said evenly. “How did you receive this news?”
God, he wanted to know. He wanted to know so badly that his palms were sweating.
We left no witnesses! He thought to himself, but even in that same thought, there was the reality that a roomful of tavern patrons saw what had happened.
Surely someone saw him, or knew of him, but if that was the case, then why hadn’t Victor or William arrested him?
Clearly, he’d not been identified. Whoever had brought back Roger’s body had not identified the killer in any way.
As his thoughts rolled around in his head, in turmoil, William answered his question.
“Three men delivered my son’s body back to me,” he said quietly. “My son had been traveling home from Paris with four guards. They were attacked in a tavern in Dover and all of them were killed, but before dying, one of the guards asked that my son be returned to me.”
Now, the situation was starting to make some sense. “And he said no more than that, my lord?” Kevin asked.
William shook his head. “Not that I was told,” he said. “Victor has offered your services to investigate this heinous crime and I am grateful to accept. Will you go to Dover and see what you can discover?”
Kevin didn’t know what else to say or do other than respond affirmatively. “I will, my lord,” he said. “Where shall I go? Where was this crime committed?”
“At a tavern,” William repeated. “I do not know the name. Surely there cannot be many taverns in Dover.”
Before Kevin could reply, Victor interrupted. “Hage, when you returned from the Levant, which port did you come through?”
Kevin looked at Victor. “Dover, my lord.”
“Recently?”
Kevin nodded. “Last week.”
Victor was seized with the possibilities. “Then mayhap you were there when this happened!” he said, excited. “You were in town, were you not? Did you hear of any murders whilst you were there?”
Kevin was very careful about how he answered. “I did not hear of any murders, no,” he said. It was the truth, technically. “When do you want me to go to Dover?”
Victor looked at William, who shrugged. “My son is dead,” he said sadly. “Even if you ride for Dover this night, it will not bring him back. I know that Victor wants you to compete in the coming games so you may go when you are finished.”