Chapter Two
Month of June
Lonsdale House, London seat of the House of de Lohr
Morgen de Lohr, Earl of Hereford and Worcester, had to sit down.
What he’d just heard had taken the breath out of him.
“God’s Bones,” he finally muttered. “Tell me again, Titus. And leave nothing out.”
Titus de Wolfe could see that the news had shaken him. News like that would shake anyone, and, in truth, it was probably shaking warlords all over England once they received it. Titus didn’t like being the bearer of bad tidings, but in this case, it was his duty.
As an Executioner Knight.
“Then we shall start from the beginning, my lord,” he said.
“My orders, from you, were to go to the tournament in Middlesbrough so I could be in the north and hear news of the movement of the king and his enemies. We knew that the Earl of Lancaster and his allies were after the king and Piers Gaveston. We knew that the pair were traveling together, and we knew that they were in the north.”
“And what happened?”
Titus lifted his eyebrows for emphasis. “Lancaster has rallied his allies, and they are preparing for battle,” he said.
“As of March, Gaveston was reinforcing his property of Scarborough Castle because of this. But sometime between March and May, Lancaster and Henry Percy, aided by Robert Clifford, convened a war council and divided up the country. Who should attack whom and so forth. We assumed they did this to be more efficient and end the conflict once and for all.”
Morgen sighed heavily. “They had hoped it would,” he said.
“But, much like de Wolfe, de Lohr has remained as neutral as possible, mostly because I do not like Lancaster and do not want to lend the man my power—because the truth is that Lancaster and his closest allies have been a rebel faction within that rebel faction, often acting independently from the group, and that is where the trouble lies. What else do you know?”
“I know that the king and Gaveston were in Newcastle in early May, about the time I was at the tournament in Middlesbrough,” Titus said. “They split up, with the king going to York and Gaveston fleeing back to Scarborough.”
Morgen grunted unhappily. “I am sure that Edward went to York in order to separate himself from the man who has split England in half better than any enemy invasion ever could have,” he said. “But now we come to the meat of the situation—did Gaveston finally surrender to Lancaster, then?”
Titus shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said.
“This is where the situation becomes… difficult. When the pair split, Lancaster supposedly continued after Edward, leaving Pembroke and Surrey to deal with Gaveston. He did indeed surrender to Pembroke, but on their way home to Pembroke Castle with Gaveston as Pembroke’s prisoner, the party stopped in the village of Deddington.
What Pembroke didn’t realize was that Lancaster’s ally, the Earl of Warwick, had been tailing him. ”
Morgen closed his eyes against the information he knew was coming. “And this is where the blow comes,” he muttered. “Tell me again what happened at that point.”
“Warwick abducted Gaveston from Pembroke’s custody,” Titus said, watching Morgen’s reaction. “They have taken him to Warwick Castle. I’m told they are convening a court to judge the man for crimes against England.”
That was the worst news of all, as far as Morgen was concerned.
As the man in command of a covert and elite group of spies, warriors, and assassins, a group started by William Marshal a hundred years earlier and known as the Executioner Knights, he was more intrenched and involved in the political dealings of England than any man alive.
This particular report was a devastating jolt to the stability of England, something the Executioner Knights worked toward but something that was increasingly difficult to orchestrate.
Sometimes Morgen felt as if he was losing control of the country he loved, now with Thomas of Lancaster, an inarguably greedy and immoral warlord, kidnapping another allied warlord’s prisoner. Had they been enemies, that would have been expected, but they were not. They were friends.
At least, they were up until this travesty.
Morgen knew what a high-profile prisoner abduction meant.
“And now, it comes,” he muttered. “This will not be a court of justice. It will be a court of condemnation. The original agreement was to hold Gaveston as a prisoner to use him as leverage against Edward. But Lancaster does not see it that way.”
“My lord?”
“My suspicion is that Gaveston will be executed and Lancaster will have irreparably damaged our cause.”
“I do not understand, my lord.”
Morgen looked at Titus. “Because Lancaster had no right to take Gaveston from Pembroke’s custody,” he said, frustrated.
“Pembroke swore an oath to the man’s safety, and he was one of the men we trusted not to do anything foolish.
He would keep him safe while we negotiated with Edward.
But Lancaster could not wait for that—the man is stupid and irresponsible, and now he intends to judge Gaveston on his own.
No one will trust him after that, and families like de Wolfe, men like your father and his brothers, who have thus far remained tepid when it came to siding against the king, will have every reason to be driven back to Edward’s side.
I cannot imagine your mighty father siding with Lancaster’s desire to turn England into his own personal demesne. ”
Titus, who had been around the politics of England all his life, understood what Morgen was saying. “That is true, my lord,” he said. “I suspect they would all rather side with Edward than a corrupt warlord like Lancaster.”
“So goes de Wolfe, so goes the rest of the country,” Morgen said with regret.
“If your father and his brothers support the king after this, Lancaster will have no one but himself to blame, but that will put de Wolfe and their allies at odds with Lancaster and Warwick. Christ, if ever a man was attempting to tear this country apart, it would be Thomas of Lancaster.”
“Then what do we do, my lord?” Titus asked. “What would you have me do?”
Morgen wasn’t sure how to answer that. This was the report he’d been dreading.
For months, the warlords against Edward had been planning and maneuvering for the moment they would capture Gaveston, and, frankly, Morgen felt foolish that he hadn’t seen this coming.
He wasn’t at all surprised that Lancaster and Warwick had abducted Gaveston to suit their own agenda.
With that realization, he headed over to a table against the wall, an elaborate piece of furniture with the de Lohr lions carved on each corner, and poured himself a large measure of wine.
“Baxter de Velt is deep in the house of Warwick,” Morgen said.
“I’ve not received any news from him since this entire situation took hold, but that does not concern me.
He is in the confidence of Warwick and cannot do anything to jeopardize that position.
Warwick has no idea that Bax is spying on him. ”
Titus knew that. Bax was a good friend of his, as they’d practically grown up together, since both of their fathers were northern warlords. Their families had been allied for generations.
“I was planning to return to my post at Pembroke Castle, but I can go to Warwick instead,” Titus said. “Would you have me go there to see what I can discover about their plans for Gaveston?”
“How?” Morgen said. “According to what you’ve told me, Pembroke and Warwick might be mortal enemies by now. Warwick would not let a Pembroke knight into his domain and into his confidence. You’d be walking into a dangerous situation.”
Titus cocked an eyebrow. “Not if I visited as a de Wolfe knight and not a Pembroke one,” he said.
“I can tell Warwick that I’ve come to see the situation for myself on behalf of the de Wolfe empire.
He would not dare deny me entry and risk the wrath of my father and uncles.
Once there, I can get Bax alone and he can give me a full report, which I will send back to you. ”
Morgen took a long swallow from his cup.
“I suppose that might work,” he said reluctantly.
“But we have agents stationed with Lancaster, Arundel, and Gloucester. You, so far, are the only one I’ve had a report from about this situation, so if you can get a report from Bax, we can see what we’re dealing with.
Whatever it is, I can promise you it is not good. ”
Titus could only nod, eyeing the wine longingly because he’d not been offered any. “The last I heard, Edward and Isabella were in York,” he said. “Surely the king must know what is happening to his favorite.”
Morgen nodded. “We have more knights with Edward who will observe and report back to me, but the silence is frustrating.”
“It is because everything is happening quickly and, as you said, the situation is dangerous.”
“Agreed. No one wishes to make a wrong move that could cost him.”
That was quite true. The Executioner Knights were heavily into the spy aspect of their duty at this point in time, mostly because England was about to tear itself apart once again due to warlords being against a king.
Morgen had many well-trained spies and assassins at his disposal, from some of the best families in England.
Each one of his core agents, like Titus, was a legacy knight, from a family that had long served king and country.
They were all the best of the best, including several that were trained at the Blackchurch Guild, the most elite training school for knights in all of England and probably the world.
Every man worth his weight in gold, all of them centrally commanded by Morgen de Lohr, who had fallen into that position when his cousin passed it down to him.
But Morgen was more than up to the task.