Chapter Sixteen
“At least you have grandchildren,” Margaretha was saying to Tevin over a pitcher of very fine red wine from Spain that she only brought out for special guests.
It was very sweet and she’d had too much of it.
When Tevin mentioned his multiple grandchildren, Margaretha seized on it.
“Valor is thirty-four years of age and has not even married yet. I will be in my grave before I ever see my first grandchild at the rate he is going.”
Tevin had known Lady de Nerra through her husband, Sir Gavin, although he’d not seen her in years.
She was a handsome woman with pale eyes and smooth skin, and she was also quite forthright, something that reminded him a great deal of his own wife.
He’d been sitting with Lady de Nerra for the better part of an hour and found her to be quite funny at times.
“Give him time, Lady de Nerra,” he said patiently. “Most knights that I know do not have marriage on their minds, merely glory. Val has a very important royal appointment and it is good that his focus is on that for now.”
Margaretha frowned. “Pah!” she said. “He is more loyal to Henry than to his family.”
“I doubt that.”
“Then where are my grandchildren?”
Tevin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Then mayhap you should help him,” he suggested. “Find him a wife.”
Margaretha rolled her eyes. “I could bring him the most beautiful and eligible woman in England and, because I selected her, he would turn his nose up at her,” she said, watching Tevin laugh. “You have sons of your own, my lord. Tell me they would not do the same thing if you selected their bride.”
Tevin thought of his own sons, five of them, in fact. “My three eldest are married,” he said. “I helped arrange the contract but I allowed my sons the final word. My younger two have not yet married, but I am sure they will at some point.”
Margaretha cocked an eyebrow. “Were any of them thirty-four years when the married?”
Tevin shook his head. “Nay,” he said. He drained the wine in his cup. “This is very fine wine, by the way. Where did you acquire it?”
Margaretha’s eyes narrowed. “Do not change the subject,” she said. “I implore you, as a father of five sons, how would you handle any son that did not wish to marry at the advanced age my son is?”
Tevin was coming to feel rather bad for Val, with such a persistent mother. But before he could answer her, he heard boot falls at the chamber entrance.
“Good God, Mother,” Val entered the room, his unhappy gaze on his mother. “Is that what you have been discussing with Lord du Reims in my absence? I cannot tell you how ashamed I am.”
Tevin stood up as Val approached, grinning at the man. “Do not be,” he said. “My wife does the same thing. ’Tis good to see you, Val. You are looking well.”
Val smiled wearily at the old earl, a man he genuinely liked. When Tevin extended a hand to him, Val took it strongly.
“My lord,” he greeted amiably. “We are deeply honored by your visit. It has been some time since I last saw you.”
Tevin nodded, shaking Val’s hand a moment before releasing it and moving to reclaim his seat.
“It is unfortunate, I know,” he said. “I usually spend my time at my home of Thunderbey Castle, but Henry has had need of me as of late. In fact, I have just come from Winchester. I realize you have only just arrived home and surely have many pressing duties, but I wonder if I might have a private conversation with you before the evening is out?”
So much for pleasantries; du Reims wanted to get right to the meat of his visit, which Val appreciated.
He, too, wanted a serious conversation with the man and there was no time like the present.
These were men of business and of action, and social proprieties took second to those things of importance in their lives. He motioned for Tevin to follow.
“Of course,” he said. “My solar is more comfortable. Let us speak now so no one will say I kept the great Earl of East Anglia waiting.”
As Tevin stood up again, Margaretha spoke. “Valor?” she said, her tone anxious. “Are you… are you well, my son?”
Val paused to look at her, hearing the concern in her voice. She knew where he had been and the serious nature of it, although she clearly had no clue as to what had actually transpired. Still, she was concerned for her son, as a mother would be.
“I am well,” he said. “I am sorry I did not greet you properly when I entered. Let me speak with Lord du Reims first and then I shall attend you.”
Margaretha shook her head. “No need,” she said. “If you are well, then I am content.”
Val’s gaze lingered on her a moment, knowing how worried she had been for him.
He thought he might have even caught a glimpse of a tear.
But Tevin was right beside him and he would not keep the man waiting, not even to show some concern for his mother, so he took the man into his solar, which was cold and relatively dark.
He quickly went about lighting the bank of tapers near his table before moving to the hearth to ignite that as well.
“Thank you for being kind enough to receive me, Val,” Tevin said as he stood by Val’s big table. “I know how busy you are. Administering justice for Henry must take a good deal of your time.”
Val glanced at him, grinning, as he moved from the bank of tapers to the hearth.
“Did my mother tell you that?” he asked, listening to Tevin chuckle.
“I do apologize for her. She is singular-minded these days about the lack of grandchildren. I am surprised she did not ask you if you have any eligible daughters.”
There was a seat next to the table and Tevin took it. “She did not, but I am under the strong impression that the conversation was heading in that direction,” he said. “Alas, I have two daughters and they are both spoken for.”
“Excellent,” Val said firmly. “As much as I would like to be related to you, I will not have my mother press the both of us in that regard.”
Tevin watched him as he sparked the kindling in the hearth. “I will admit, I wish I had another daughter for you,” he said. “You are a fine man, Val. I have always thought so.”
Val could sense that they were coming to the root of Tevin’s visit; something about the look on his face bespoke of both admiration and sorrow.
“And I have great admiration for you as well, my lord,” he said.
Then, he stood up and faced him. “Did Henry send you here to discover if I have arrested Canterbury?”
Tevin’s brow furrowed slightly, confused. “Arrest Canterbury? What do you mean?”
Now it was Val’s turn to be confused. “Did Henry not tell you that he sent me a missive commanding me to arrest Canterbury and bring him to Winchester?”
Tevin’s eyebrows lifted. If he was only slightly confused before, now that confusion was growing by leaps and bounds. “A missive –?” he repeated. “Henry sent you a missive to arrest Canterbury?”
Val nodded, seeing the surprise in the man’s features.
“Evidently, he did not tell you,” he said.
Then, he moved to the saddlebags he had placed upon his desk and opened one, then the other, finally coming across the rolled piece of vellum he sought, the key to all of his troubles.
He extended it to du Reims. “See for yourself, my lord.”
Tevin took the vellum and quickly unrolled it, reading the contents once, then twice. Then, he simply stared at it. “Val,” he said after a moment, hesitantly. “When did you receive this?”
“Over a week ago.”
“Who brought this to you?”
Val didn’t sense anything other than raw confusion from du Reims, which was understandable if the man knew nothing about the missive. “Hugh de Morville,” he said. “He came to Selborne and delivered it. Henry truly did not mention any of this to you?”
Tevin was still looking at the missive, an overwhelming sense of foreboding filling him as he stared at it.
He recognized the writing as that of one of Henry’s clerks and the seal was most definitely Henry’s.
Even the signature looked like Henry’s. But he knew for a fact that Henry didn’t write it.
He began to feel a rock in the pit of his stomach, weighing down on him, as he struggled to figure out what had occurred.
“Val, tell me what happened from the beginning,” he said. “I want to know what de Morville said when he delivered this missive. Tell me everything.”
Now, Val was starting to wonder if there wasn’t something wrong in all of this. He thought du Reims looked rather pale.
“I was not at Selborne when Hugh delivered this, but his brother, Calum, was,” he said.
“You know Calum, do you not? He has been my second for two years now, a very fine knight. But I digress; it was Calum that took the missive and spoke to his brother. Hugh told Calum that he and FitzUrse, le Breton, and de Tracy were to go ahead of me to attempt to talk Canterbury into surrendering to me. After receiving the missive, I followed as quickly as I could but by the time I got to Canterbury… my lord, I thought that you had come on behalf of Henry to discover what happened when I went to arrest Canterbury. In fact, I was going to head to Winchester myself this very day to inform the king personally.”
Tevin was looking at Val with great distress on his features. “Canterbury is dead,” he said. “Henry was told of it this morning by soldiers from Canterbury Castle. That is why I am here, Val. My God… I do not even know where to begin with all of this.”
Val was coming to sense that something was very, very wrong but he wasn’t sure, exactly, what it was.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “My lord, I know I failed in my duty to arrest Canterbury. I have no excuse other than I did not arrive in time to prevent de Morville from murdering the man. Hugh told me that Canterbury resisted arrest and, in the process, Hugh and the others killed him. I will take responsibility for that if I must, since I was ordered to arrest the man, but….”