Chapter Four #2
“De Rhydian,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I did not know who The Marshal was sending, but I believe I have heard your name before. Have you served anyone other than Pembroke?”
Kress nodded. “I have in the past, before I followed Richard on his Great Quest.”
Padraig’s eyes narrowed, still trying to figure out where he had heard the name. “I went on the Great Quest myself,” he said. “I was with the Earl of Arundel’s army. Did you serve the king directly?”
“I did, my lord.”
Padraig thought a moment longer but it was clear he couldn’t determine where, exactly, he’d heard the name and Kress wasn’t going to give him a hint.
All of the Christian armies had heard of the Executioner Knights at one point during the long months and years they were anchored to that dry and deadly land, but that moniker wasn’t something Kress bragged about.
If Summerlin eventually figured it out, all well and good, but Kress wasn’t going to give him a hand at it.
There were more important things to discuss than a man’s dark reputation.
“It has been quite some time since I have been to this part of Norfolk,” Kress continued, moving away from Summerlin’s inability to remember where he’d heard his name.
“I was trying to recall and I believe it was back when I was newly knighted. My liege was a friend of William d’Aubigney, the Elder.
Your liege’s father, I believe. We came to Castle Rising for some kind of a festival, though I do not remember exactly what it was.
I do remember there were many pretty girls in attendance, however. ”
Padraig smiled faintly as he poured himself some wine. “Norfolk abounds with pretty women. Something about the wild nature of the land breeds them.”
Kress took a drink of wine. “I would believe that,” he said. “We ran into a group of them as we came through Lynn.”
Padraig glanced at him, amused. “You have a mission, de Rhydian. Pretty maids in Lynn will have to wait.”
Kress grinned in return. “True enough,” he said, quickly sobering. “Speaking of maids, what can you tell us about Cadelyn of Vendotia? Anything in particular we should know about her, as her escort?”
Padraig’s good humor seemed to fade, as well. “She is formidable,” he said honestly. “I have been commander at Castle Rising for about ten years and she was here when I took command. She was quite young at the time but, even then, she ruled the place.”
“A tyrant, then?”
Padraig shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “It is simply the way about her. She commands respect simply by walking into a room. It is difficult to explain, but you will understand when you meet her. Even if you did not know the girl’s lineage, you would suspect simply by the way she is.”
“How is that?”
Padraig lifted his eyebrows as if thinking of where to start.
“She is brilliant, for one thing,” he said.
“She is also extremely accomplished. She can speak several languages, she handles all of the finances here at Castle Rising because my wife refuses to do them and the majordomo is more of a follower than a leader. Cadelyn is, quite simply, a woman who will make a fine countess because of her many talents. Do not get into an argument with her, about anything. You will lose.”
Kress digested that. “The majordomo said everyone was proud of her because she would go on to be a great countess,” he said, his voice low. “Is that all anyone knows about her? They do not know the truth?”
Padraig shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Not even my wife knows, and she has been close to Cadelyn. It is better that way. Cadelyn knows, of course, but she is neither impressed by it, nor does she want it. Still, she understands that she must keep such sensitive information to herself. But this betrothal… you may as well know she wants no part of it. It will not be an easy thing, escorting her to de Shera.”
As Kress scratched his head, pondering a reluctant subject, Alexander spoke. “Why doesn’t she want any part of it?” he asked. “Does she have a lover?”
But Padraig shook his head. “Nothing like that,” he said.
“She knows this is to be a political alliance and she is as far from political as one can get. De Shera sent a missive a while ago, right after the betrothal was contracted, inquiring about her health and generally being pleasant, but she refused to respond to it. Not even my wife could get her to do it.”
“And de Shera?” Alexander asked. “What do you know of him?”
Padraig held up a finger. “That is a very good question,” he said.
“I have heard about The Paladin and how Tatius’ younger brothers are the ones who run the place and command the de Shera armies.
That is common knowledge in this part of England.
But I had an old merchant here once, a man with a business in Chester who stayed the night on his way to Norwich, who told me some interesting things about Tatius de Shera. ”
“Like what?”
Padraig looked at Alexander, pointedly. “Do not repeat this to Tatius, but this old merchant told me after too much wine that Tatius is a drunkard, a man who loses himself to wine far too often.”
“How would he even know that?”
“Because the old merchant evidently did a good deal of business with The Paladin,” Padraig said. “But he told me something else that was far more interesting.”
“What was that?”
“Tatius de Shera’s mother was Welsh,” he said. “His younger brothers are only half-brothers, sons of their father’s second English wife. The old merchant said that he had heard that Tatius de Shera was sympathetic towards the Welsh resistance under English rule.”
Alexander and Kress looked at each other curiously. “So he is sympathetic?” Alexander said. “If his mother was Welsh, I am sure that is a natural reaction.”
Padraig cocked an eyebrow. “Can you imagine the entire de Shera army used for the Welsh princes of the north? It would be a rebellion like none other.”
Alexander frowned. “But John recently married his daughter, Joan, to Llywelyn, the last great Welsh prince,” he said. “Llywelyn is from the north and surely he will not rebel against the English now that he has an English wife.”
“Are you certain of that? With the de Shera army behind him, he could do a good deal of damage to the Marches. The great Marcher Lords – de Lohr and de Lara included – would be under great threat.”
It was a rather stunning bit of information, something that was not lost on the four knights, who glanced at each other rather ominously.
“Have you told The Marshal about this?” Kress asked the obvious. “If not, then you must. He needs to know. If de Shera truly has Welsh sympathies, then marrying him to the last great Welsh princess could be detrimental to England, at the very least.”
Padraig returned to his wine. “I have told him,” he said.
“When this betrothal came up, I had to. We get travelers here from time to time, crossing through the midsection of England and on into Norfolk, so gossip is not unusual, but this merchant seemed to know a great deal. As I said, his business is in Chester, so he has been there a very long time and knows the politics of the lords. When I told The Marshal what I’d heard, he didn’t seem to be concerned.
It is only rumor, after all. The younger de Shera brothers control the army, as Tatius shows no interest in his earldom, or at least that is what The Marshal told me.
He seems to think it is important to marry Cadelyn to de Shera simply to balance out the power in the north. ”
“The power against John,” Kress finished quietly, looking at his companions, who seemed to understand the situation as well as he did. His focus returned to Padraig. “And you say Cadelyn has no interest in this betrothal?”
Padraig shook his head. “Not in the least,” he said. “She may be Welsh-born, but she is English to the bone. Even if Tatius wanted to lend his armies to the Welsh, I am certain she would have no part of that. It might be the saving grace.”
“Why do you say so?”
“Because disharmony from a Welsh princess against her people’s rebellion will cause confusion. She will not be the beacon of inspiration for them, if they hope for such a thing.”
It made the situation far more complex than anyone had anticipated.
There were politics at work; but, then again, there were always politics at work when it came to William Marshal and King John.
That was nothing new. But this was more than they had anticipated and certainly more than William had let on.
Kress pondered the information for a moment longer before speaking.
“Thank you for telling us what you know,” he said. “Our eyes will be open a little wider as we head into Chester.”
“Exactly.”
Padraig lifted his cup to Kress, drinking deeply, and the knights followed suit.
It seemed as if their simple escort mission suddenly wasn’t so simple.
The conversation veered away from the coming escort mission at that point, perhaps because Summerlin had said all he wanted to say, and they began to discuss the fine horses that Padraig had in his stables.
The man had a priceless Belgian warmblood stallion that he was breeding with sturdy Spanish Jennet mares and creating offspring that were much in demand.
In fact, he had Achilles’ attention, as the man had a particular interest in fine horse flesh, so the next hour or two revolved around horses and breeding, among other things.