Chapter Nineteen
“And now, you know,” Patrick said as he sat on the edge of his massive table, “Lancaster executed Gaveston, and de Lohr has said he will side with Edward now. We can no longer remain neutral in this, I’m afraid. We must choose a side.”
It was a bright morning after a feast that lasted until the early-morning hours. Most of the men in the room, including Patrick and Titus, were bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, but they were mostly alert.
The subject matter called for nothing less.
Warmed, watered cider and warmed wine was being passed around.
Bread basted in butter and honey was also being passed around in the hope that the honey would revive them a little.
The solar was full of de Wolfe family and allies, all of them having just listened to Titus and Patrick speak on the current situation between the king and Thomas of Lancaster and the execution of Piers Gaveston.
It was what they’d all feared with Lancaster, because the man wasn’t shy about flaunting his power or his ambition. Now, the situation was dire, indeed.
The Earl of Berwick was correct.
They would have to choose a side.
The men in the chamber were glancing at each other, expressions of concern and resignation passing between them.
Along with Titus and Patrick were Markus, Magnus, Krister, Peter, Bowen, and Rian.
At this early hour, Espen was on the wall and in command.
The Earl of Warenton and the head of the de Wolfe empire, Scott de Wolfe, was seated at the table with Patrick while his twin, Troy, was standing in front of the hearth and warming his “old bones,” as he called them.
Blayth de Wolfe, Baron Sydenham, was near Troy, and the final de Wolfe brother, Thomas, Earl of Northumbria, was sitting in a cushioned leather chair with his big feet propped up on a stool.
They were missing Edward de Wolfe because he was in London with his family, or so the servants at his Northumberland home told the messenger from Berwick.
Edward was the diplomat of the family, working foreign affairs for the king, and not usually involved in battle planning.
That rounded out the sons of William de Wolfe.
But there were more. In the north, the linking of the de Wolfe-de Norville-Hage families was legendary.
Three great knights who fostered together more than eighty years ago and then served together at Northwood Castle—William de Wolfe, Kieran Hage, and Paris de Norville—had married three Scots cousins.
Those three couples had spawned at least two dozen children between them, and those children spawned dozens as well.
One couldn’t go to any major town or village in Northumberland and not run into a de Wolfe or a de Norville or a Hage, and the three families were still tightly bound, still manning most of the major castles in the north.
The families had become part of Northumberland’s fabric.
But the short notice of Titus’ wedding feast meant not all could be in attendance.
Only those within a few days’ ride had been able to come.
Nathaniel Hage, son of William de Wolfe’s closest friend, Kieran Hage, had come from Castle Questing with Scott, leaving his brother, Alec, in command.
From Northwood Castle, the Earl of Teviot, John de Longley, had come with his de Norville commander, Hector, and Hector’s eldest son, Atreus.
From Pelinom Castle, Atlas de Velt was in attendance, a close ally of de Wolfe and de Lohr alike.
A few of the greater warlords hadn’t been able to make the feast, like Yves de Vesci of Alnwick Castle and War Herringthorpe of Bamburgh Castle, but there were four or five lesser warlords who had been able to attend at short notice, including de Allery and Ansel.
They were both in the chamber as well, but Ansel was staying to the shadows.
He hadn’t said a word all morning.
Not that Patrick cared, but he was keeping an eye on him.
So were his brothers, who had all been informed of the situation between Titus’ wife and her brother.
Mostly, Troy and Blayth were watching him like a hawk, because out of William de Wolfe’s sons, they were perhaps the two that would happily keep an eye on a man that no one seemed to like and take great pleasure if he happened to step out of line.
Atreus de Norville, a man notoriously quick to temper, was prepared to pounce if given the word.
He’d pound the man’s brains in and ask questions later, but so far, Ansel hadn’t given them any reason to act.
He had remained quiet, which was a good thing considering the volatility of the subject matter.
There wasn’t anyone in that chamber who didn’t understand that.
“What of de Lohr, Atty?” Scott asked, rubbing his forehead to stave off the aching head from too much drink the previous night. “If the man is siding with Edward, his neighbors will not be happy about it. He’s a day’s ride from Warwick Castle.”
“I know,” Patrick said. “I will tell you now that I have already decided to support de Lohr, and that means I will support Edward. Mayhap the man is an ineffective ruler and he has problems, but he is better than the alternative.”
“Lancaster,” Scott muttered.
“Exactly,” Patrick said. “Thomas of Lancaster is unpredictable, untrustworthy, and greedy. More than that, he is not the rightful king. The simple fact is that I cannot put my support behind such a man, and unless all of you would like to pay homage to Lancaster, I would suggest you think very hard about the support you give and whom you give it to.”
Scott looked at Troy, a man very astute when it came to political matters, especially with the Scots. His properties were in Scotland, so he’d spent a lifetime dealing with the brittle relations of it. But Troy simply shook his head, sighing heavily as he did so.
“There is no choice,” he said. “If we side with Lancaster, chances are the man will be on the throne of England within a year, and he is not the true king. Edward has issues, that is true. We’ve never agreed with Gaveston or Despenser or his Savoyard contingent.
He seems too content to give the country away to his French relatives.
But even so, he is our king. Atty is right—I would rather pay homage to him than to Lancaster. ”
His opinion was the same as the rest of the de Wolfe brothers. They thought as one, spoke as one. Sitting near Patrick’s table, with Hector de Norville by his side, the Earl of Teviot spoke up.
“I was hoping we could remain out of this, tucked up in the north,” he said softly.
Named for his grandfather, John de Longley was much as his father had been, with dreamy blue eyes, golden-red hair, and a sharp mind.
“We have our own troubles up here that seem removed from the rest of England, but this… Unfortunately, I believe Lancaster has pushed us into taking a stand. And I would wager to say we will not be the last to side with Edward.”
“Nay, we will not,” Scott said. “There is an entire group of us who always, inevitably, side with each other—de Lohr, de Lara, du Reims, de Russe, and so forth. De Winter is the only one who sides with the king regardless of what the rest of us do, but in this case, I am glad to be on his side. But I am concerned about de Lohr siding with Edward whilst surrounded by those who are allied with Lancaster. That means Warwick and Gloucester.”
“It also means Wellesbourne,” Patrick said.
“Do not forget that Aaron Wellesbourne is just south of Warwick. Those two are usually allies, but not always. When they’ve gone to war against each other in the past, historically, it is an ugly thing.
All Wellesbourne does is train warriors, but Warwick is larger.
We cannot abandon Aaron if he sides with Edward and Warwick declares war on him. ”
“We would never abandon him,” Thomas said quietly but firmly. “Aaron and I have served together in the past. He reinforced my ranks last year when we had a skirmish outside of Nottingham.”
“When was that?”
“When Gaveston tried to take something that didn’t belong to him.”
Patrick snorted ironically. “I’d forgotten,” he said. “I became angry at you for involving yourself.”
“I’d been asked to chase the man off. I could not resist.”
No one personally liked Gaveston, despite his unjust ending, and that was clear. Patrick looked at his youngest brother, grinning as he shook his head at the man, and for a moment the tension in the room lifted. The mood warmed.
But not for long.
“Are we in agreement, then?” Scott said. As the head of the family, he made the final decisions involving the empire. “We support Edward against Lancaster.”
Everyone nodded, including the lesser warlords listening in. Scott looked around the chamber, making sure there were no doubters. No questions. But everyone seemed clearly in agreement.
“Good,” he said. “That means we must all be in support, because if Lancaster or Warwick or their allies decide to attack Teviot, for example, that means we all go to war. Let there be no doubt. We stand united or we will fall divided.”
“Understood, my lord,” de Allery spoke up, daring to lend his voice to what was largely a de Wolfe discussion because they had the most to lose. “Do we know what Lancaster and Warwick are doing now? Or is the information on Gaveston’s death too old?”
It was a good question. Everyone looked to Titus, who had been the original bearer of the bad news.
“It is at least a month old, if not more,” Titus said. “We can send someone to the marches, to Morgen de Lohr, and find out if there are any new developments. We can also tell him that the Northerners are with Edward.”