Chapter Twenty
Near Winchester Castle
“I wonder if Henry knows.”
It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. De Morville, riding in the lead of the group as Winchester Castle came into view against the dark morning sky, hissed irritably.
“Of course he knows,” he said. “Everybody knows. We have spent all of this time hiding in tiny villages and sleeping in beds that had families of bugs crawling all over them so we could stay out of sight but, still, people in these towns were speaking of Canterbury. Of course Henry knows. Everybody knows!”
Stubbled, exhausted, and feeling a great deal of remorse for his actions of that terrible night in December, le Breton’s dark-rimmed eyes peered out from beneath the heavy cloak he wore.
“Val has already been to Winchester,” he muttered. “He has already told Henry what has happened. He said he would. I should have never listened to you when you said we had to hide. We should have come to Winchester immediately.”
Hugh yanked back on his horse’s reins and reached for his broadsword with the intention of going after Richard, but Reginald FitzUrse stopped him.
“Nay,” he said, putting himself between the two men.
“Richard is right. We should have come to Winchester right away. We should not have delayed as we did.”
Hugh sucked in a deep breath, struggling to calm his frayed nerves. “We needed to think on what to do,” he reiterated again. “All of you believed it to be the right course of action at the time. It was far better for us to take the time to stay out of sight and decide a course of action.”
“Look at us,” William de Tracy spoke. He lifted his arms beneath his worn cloak as if to make an example of himself.
“We stole these clothes, sold our fine horses, and now we find ourselves on beasts that we should be eating rather than riding. No one would suspect that we are four of Henry’s knights and that is how we planned it but, still, we find ourselves riding to Henry.
Richard is correct; we should not have panicked and gone into hiding.
We simply should have gone to Henry to tell him what had happened.
We did this for him, did we not? He should be glad for what we did.
If we believed he ordered us to kill Canterbury, then we should have run back to him to announce it. ”
Hugh was feeling as if they were blaming him for his insistence that they conceal their identities and stay away from Winchester in the days following Canterbury’s assassination.
He sighed heavily. “So we are returning now to tell him everything and pray for his blessing,” he said.
“If he does not give it, then we must make it clear that we were following Val’s lead.
It will be the four of us against him. That is why we gave him the forged missive, is it not?
So Val would take the blame if Henry is displeased. We must insist on this.”
William shook his head in disgust. “If Val has already gone to Henry, then Henry knows that we instigated it,” he reminded Hugh.
“Moreover, Val had several men with him who will vouch for the fact that Val did not kill Canterbury; we did. And what of that missive? Henry will know that it was forged and Calum will testify that we gave it to him. Henry will know that we were at the root of everything!”
Hugh was feeling his position weaken by the moment.
Coming into Winchester from the south, they could see it ahead about a half a mile.
The morning was gloomy and a hint of rain was in the air as Hugh finally pulled his horse to a halt.
The other three followed suit, all of them looking at the city ahead.
“And so, it comes,” he said quietly. “Do we enter Winchester and tell Henry that we have rid him of his nemesis? Or do we go to him and blame Val de Nerra for it?”
FitzUrse, his gaze locked on the castle in the distance, spoke. “If we believed this was Henry’s order, then we should have no shame in telling the king what we have done.”
Hugh looked at him. “We were convinced enough when we planned the event.”
“Now I am not so sure.”
Truth be told, Hugh wasn’t, either. None of them were. The aftermath of the event caused them all to wonder if they’d done the right thing. Doubt was what had caused them to go into hiding. The doubt was still there, gaining in strength.
“If we tell him what we have done and he is displeased, it could mean our end,” Richard said. “I am not entirely certain that Henry will be happy with what we have done.”
“Nor am I,” William said quietly. “Val told us to return to tell Henry, but I am not willing to meet my end today. Let us flee England and send Henry a missive from afar, seeking his counsel on our actions. Let Val explain his role in all of this; I, for one, am not ready to face Henry. Come with me if you wish, for I am leaving the sight of Winchester behind me.”
He turned his horse south, for there was a road leading east a mile or so back, a road that would lead them across southern Hampshire to another road heading north into London.
There, they could make an escape if they chose to because today wasn’t a day for confessions.
Men who had been so convinced of a royal order weren’t so convinced any longer.
It was easier to let another take the blame.
One by one, the other knights followed him, all of them fleeing Winchester and the justice that awaited them. It was easier to escape what they’d done rather than face it.
Face a king who had lost an old friend by their hand.