Chapter Eighteen
It was about an hour before dawn. The grounds of Selborne Castle were quiet for the most part as soldiers went about their rounds and the servants starting cooking fires to prepare for the morning meal.
It was cold this morning, with a thin layer of ice on the ground, and smoke hung heavy in the air because of the cloud layer, causing the men on the wall walk to cough intermittently, their eyes stinging in the mist.
In the stables against the western wall, McCloud was saddling the horse he’d borrowed from Eynsford.
He also had a sack of food to take with him, provisions he’d requested from the servant who had shown him to his bed the night before.
It sat on the ground by the end of the stall as McCloud prepared the horse, cleaning out the hooves by the light of an oil lamp and making sure the leather straps on the saddle were secure.
But his movements were slow and lethargic.
He moved with a heavy heart, for many different reasons.
In spite of traveling with his daughter for the past two days, he wasn’t entirely sure Vesper was forgiving of his actions and he wasn’t sure she was willing to put everything behind them.
Worse still, Val, who had been a close and trusted friend, wouldn’t even speak to him last night.
He’d simply glared at him when he arrived and then ignored him the rest of the time, so Val’s behavior had been wearing heavily upon him.
It hurt more than he thought it would.
Not that he deserved the man’s friendship.
He knew he didn’t. But he’d come to support Val when it seemed as if the whole of England would very soon be against the man.
He was both hurt and angered that Val wasn’t willing to forgive him, a man he’d known for years, especially when Val was finding himself in a rather precarious position.
He would need all the friends he could get. At least, that’s how McCloud saw it.
Therefore, he brooded as he saddled the horse, thinking that he would simply return to Durley and try to eke out an existence there.
He had nowhere else to go so returning to Durley seemed to be the best option.
He would leave his daughter to Val, since the man was clearly enamored with her, and that would be the end of all things as he knew it.
He would have to try and rebuild his life without his only living child or friends from long ago.
“McCloud.”
A deep voice pierced the darkness and McCloud turned to see Val entering the stable.
His heart leapt a bit at the sight of the man, wary of his presence, hoping that Val hadn’t come here to tell him how disappointed he was in him.
Nothing Val could say could be any worse than McCloud had already said to himself, so he braced himself as Val came towards him.
“Val,” he said evenly. “You have risen early.”
Val came into the weak light of the lamp. “I did not sleep,” he said. “I saw you come into the stable. We must speak and there was no opportunity last night.”
McCloud sighed faintly, returning his attention to the horse. “If you’ve come to scold me, then get on with it,” he said. “Whatever you must say to me, I have earned it.”
“I have come to speak with you about Vesper.”
McCloud paused, looking up at him. “Oh?” he said. “What about her?”
Val hesitated a moment before continuing. “I am going to marry her this morning, as soon as the priest arrives,” he said quietly. “I wanted you to know that.”
“I assumed as much.”
“You said once that you were agreeable if I courted her.”
“I am.”
“Then I assume you are agreeable with marriage.”
McCloud’s gaze lingered on Val a moment, perhaps sensing more behind that statement. Perhaps Val was thinking on his current situation and his uncertain future but he didn’t want to voice such things. McCloud turned back to the horse again.
“Val, I know of the rumors regarding you and Canterbury,” he said. “I was there when the soldiers from Canterbury Castle arrived and told Vesper of the assassination. I can only imagine that you are now in a rather precarious position because of it.”
Val watched the man pick out the hooves of the horse. “I am going to Westminster to discuss just that very situation with Henry right after I marry your daughter,” he said. Then, he paused a moment. “You have not asked me if those rumors are true.”
McCloud shrugged. “It is not my business.”
“Do you believe them?”
McCloud faltered. “I know you are a man of duty,” he said simply.
“If Henry ordered you to kill Becket, then you would obey him. Do I believe you are capable of such things? I know you are. I saw what you did to my son. But if there is one thing you are not, Val, it is foolish. You are no fool. I am sure you had a very good reason for what you did.”
“I did not do it.”
McCloud looked at him. “Then why do men say that you have?”
Val sighed, leaning against the wall of the stable. “Because I was sent a forged missive ordering me to arrest Canterbury. The same knights who delivered it are the ones who killed Canterbury. Now they are trying to blame me for it.”
McCloud was looking at him seriously. “Does Henry know this?”
“He will when I see him this morning. You saw the Earl of East Anglia in my hall last night? He will help defend me against Henry’s anger.
McCloud, I know that you and I have had our problems over the past few weeks and I cannot say that I will ever trust you again, but you are Vesper’s father.
She is to be my wife. I should like it if we could at least live peacefully. ”
McCloud wasn’t sure if he felt much hope in Val’s words but at least the man didn’t outright hate him. “I should like that as well,” he said. “Mayhap someday… someday I will earn your trust again. I am sorry to have destroyed it in the first place.”
Val didn’t reply right away. Still leaning against the wall, he averted his gaze, staring pensively off into the dark stable. After a moment, he spoke.
“Was it pride that kept you from coming to me when your farm dried up and you could no longer feed yourself?” he asked.
“I have been trying to figure that out – what would make a man turn as badly as you did. Selborne is a day’s ride from Durley.
Mayhap we are not as good of friends as I thought we were since you did not turn to me for help. I can think of no other reason.”
McCloud was looking at the horse but not really seeing it. He was feeling a great deal of sorrow over Val’s question. He could only think of one answer.
“I am not your responsibility,” he muttered. “It is not your duty to feed and clothe me. How weak would I have looked to you had I come crawling for help?”
“So it was easier to permit your son to run amok, murdering at will?”
McCloud didn’t really have an answer for him.
“A man’s pride is a complex thing,” he said.
“With Mat… I knew what he was doing was wrong. But he was my son. I had not the heart to punish him. It was easier to pretend he was not murdering rather than face the truth. Val, I have no real excuse to give you. All I can say is that I am sorry you have lost faith in me.”
Val watched the man as he turned back to the saddle to make sure it was secure before moving to put the bridle on the horse.
“So am I,” he said quietly. “But I do appreciate that you escorted Vesper to Selborne. I am grateful.”
McCloud snorted. “She would not stay away. She was coming and there was no discouraging her.”
“She is a determined young woman.”
“Very much so.”
The horse’s bridle was on and secured, and McCloud led the horse out of its stall. He picked up the food sack on the ground and secured that to the rear of the saddle. When he was finished and the horse was ready to depart, he paused to look at Val one last time.
“Take good care of her,” he said huskily. “She is a good girl. She did not deserve what I brought her. I pray you can give her something much better than I ever could.”
Val could sense that the mood was turning serious, something that pained him more than he thought it would.
“I wish I could believe you were sincere,” he said.
“This is like a nightmare, McCloud. Everything I thought was the truth has, mayhap, been a lie all this time. Marrying your daughter should make me very joyful because you would become part of my family, but now… all I can tell you is that I do not hate you. But I am disappointed. Mayhap it is something that can be mended in time, as you said.”
McCloud nodded, but he was staring at his feet.
“I will admit that I am not quite over the fact that you executed my son,” he said.
“I understand why you did it. I understand you were following the law and that you had every right. But I had hoped for special consideration, I suppose. I had hoped you would protect him.”
Val has a suspicion that McCloud was harboring some resentment towards him but he was unrepentant about it.
“Had you come to me in the very beginning, when he’d made his first kill, mayhap I would have,” he said honestly.
“But you let it go on to the point where there was nothing I could do once he was caught. Had I not punished him, the entire town would have turned against me and St. Lo’s men more than likely would have, too.
I was in no position to show mercy that day.
Even if I had been, I would not have. Your son deserved the most serious punishment I could deal out and, for the fact that you were his accomplice, I should have punished you, too.
But I did not. Consider that my protection, McCloud.
You received my mercy when you should not have. ”
McCloud was feeling scolded, ashamed. “Have you never made a mistake, Val?” he asked, growing defensive.
“Are you always so perfect? I see now that you are in trouble with Henry so it seems to me that you are not as perfect as you pretend to be. Mayhap you should have more understanding for imperfect men.”