Chapter Twenty-One #3
Henry was listening to Val intently, soaking up every word from his mouth. Upon the mention of the missive, he interrupted Val from continuing.
“This missive,” he demanded. “Where is it?”
Val turned to Calum, who had his saddlebags. Swiftly, Calum came forward and laid the bags on the table nearest Val, untying the flap before digging in to the pouch. But Henry recognized the knight and his eyes narrowed.
“De Morville Secundi,” he said, referring to the fact that Calum was Hugh’s younger brother. “What do you know of your brother’s actions?”
Calum knew this moment would come. He swallowed hard as he pulled forth the fateful vellum that his brother had given him, more fearful than Val was in a sense.
It was his brother who started this and Calum who gave the missive to Val.
Aye, he was guilty as much as Val was. He prayed that Henry didn’t see it that way.
“My lord, I can only tell you the same thing that Val can,” he said.
“I was the one my brother gave the missive to. He had me read it before Val did. When I asked him why Val should be given this duty, he told me that it was because he was the law for all of Hampshire and since Winchester is in Hampshire, it is his jurisdiction. My lord, never at any time did I have the slightest hint that he was lying to me. He and the other knights all told the same story and all confirmed that the missive came from you. There was no reason for me to doubt my brother and no reason for Val to doubt him.”
Henry’s expression was starting to tighten, a distinct sign that he was becoming angry. “And he told you that de Nerra was to arrest Becket and bring him to me?”
Calum nodded and extended the missive to Henry. “See for yourself, my lord.”
Henry snatched the vellum and unrolled it, his eyes greedily devouring the carefully written words. Tevin was looking over his shoulder as were a few other advisors, all jockeying around behind the king to get a look at what he was reading.
Time seemed to go unreasonably slow as the king read the fateful missive.
It was agonizing. But the more Henry read, the darker his face became.
By the time he was finished, all of that darkness came to a head and he exploded in a bellow of sheer fury that echoed off the roof, reverberating violently against the walls.
Even the men in the hall, standing around and watching the scene, were uncomfortable with the cry. It was an ugly sound.
It was a sound of utter pain.
“This!” Henry held up the vellum. “This did not come from me! I did not send this!”
Calum was starting to fear for his safety.
He looked at Val, who appeared equally concerned.
“We know that now, my lord,” Val said, hoping Henry didn’t demonstrate that anger on him and Calum.
“But at the time, we had no reason to believe you did not send it. It was delivered by men I trusted, men who have delivered dozens of such missives from you. There was no reason to believe this one was any different.”
Henry was so angry that he was trembling. “But this was not from me,” he said, shaking the vellum at Val in a threatening manner. “Did you not think to confirm an order of this magnitude?”
Val had, but he wasn’t going to say so. Only his complete belief in the truth of that missive would save him and he knew it. “I have never questioned an order from you, my lord,” he said simply. “It was not my place to confirm an order signed by the king.”
That was very true and Henry, above his rage, realized that.
He was coming to see that the terrible plot he’d suspected was not something Val de Nerra was behind.
He wasn’t systematically trying to destroy the hierarchy of England, starting with Canterbury.
Henry knew that had been a foolish consideration to begin with but a fearful man will think many things, not all of them reasonable.
Clearly, Val was caught up in something beyond his control which should have eased Henry, but it didn’t. He was becoming distraught.
“Tell me what happened at Canterbury,” he finally demanded. “Tell me everything.”
Val knew this would be the hard part. “When I returned to Selborne and read the missive, de Morville and the others were already a day ahead of me, heading to Canterbury. They said they were going ahead of me to try and convince the archbishop to surrender to me peacefully. I left immediately to follow them, taking twenty men with me as well as my knight, Kenan de Poyer. Kenan witnessed everything I did at Canterbury’s cathedral, as did the soldiers I brought with me.
I have eleven witnesses to what happened there, my lord. It was… not pleasant.”
Henry’s eyes widened with impending horror. “What? Speak, man!”
Val briefly thought on being tactful about it but decided that wasn’t the course of action to take. He wanted to paint the horror of what de Morville and the others were capable of so Henry would know the depths of the betrayal and horror they were all facing.
“We arrived in Canterbury at the West Gate Inn, the location that Hugh indicated where we should meet him when we arrived,” he said.
“We entered the city close to Vespers and de Morville and the others were not at the inn, so I suspected they might have gone to the cathedral, knowing that Becket would be there for the evening prayer. We went to the cathedral and were heading around the side of the structure where the cloister is when we began hearing the signs of a struggle. We rushed into the cathedral, near the quire, only to see de Morville and le Breton delivering a death blow to Becket. The man’s head was in pieces and his brains were all over the ground.
From my perspective, it seemed to me as if they intended to cut Canterbury to pieces so I stopped them.
When I asked de Morville why he had killed him, he told me that Becket attacked him with a staff and he killed in self-defense.
My lord, I saw no staff on the ground so I chose not to believe him.
I told him to return to Winchester to confess to you what he had done.
I further told him that I would be telling you what I saw, as I am now.
So help me God, this is the complete and unreserved truth.
I never lifted a finger against Becket, at any time, but I was too late to protect him from those who sought to kill him. ”
By the time he was finished, Henry’s cheeks had gone from an angry red to a sallow pale.
Visibly shaken, he stared at Val for several long seconds.
Even Tevin, who had not heard the detailed testimony of the event, looked taken aback, as did Henry’s advisors and nearly everyone else in the hall. It was an utterly horrific description.
“And so, they killed him,” Henry finally muttered, oddly calm in contrast to the shouting man from moments earlier.
Now that he knew the truth, he was deeply grieved.
“Thomas’ blood was spilled at the very ground upon which he served.
But I do not understand why these knights should do this.
I did not command it. I did not ask it of them. Why should they do this in my name?”
“To please you, my lord,” Tevin said, subdued. “These knights have always sought your favor. They knew of your extended trouble with Canterbury. Mayhap, they sought to seek your favor, once and for all, by ridding you of a most troublesome priest.”
The words hung in the air between them, sharp and cutting, but it was enough to jolt Henry. A most troublesome priest….
He suddenly turned on du Reims, his eyes wide as a sense of foreboding swept him.
“Those words,” he hissed. “I spoke those words, once. I did!”
Tevin nodded, realizing that a great deal was coming clear to him at that moment. It was tumbling over him like an avalanche. “At Bures Castle,” he said. “I heard you say them. Everyone in the room heard you say them. In your anger, you shouted them.”
Henry’s mouth flew open, a gesture of astonishment as he, too, began to grasp what Tevin already understood. “They thought….”
“That you meant them. Aye, my lord, I believe they did.”
“So they concocted a scheme to rid me of him!”
“For your favor, I am sure. Mayhap, they even believed you gave a command. In any case, they lied to Val and now he stands here before you, not them. He has taken their blame. Val is innocent, my lord. You must release him.”
Henry was astonished by the pieces of a terrible puzzle as they came together to present a picture of appalling proportions, but one thing was for certain – it all made perfect sense. Now, he was starting to understand what had motivated these knights to kill on behalf of the king.
Words from the king himself.
Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?
After a moment, Henry turned to Val. “And you,” he said. “Did they seek to deflect the blame on to you? Because they have succeeded marvelously. Everyone in England believes you have killed Canterbury.”
Val watched as Tevin, standing next to Henry, snapped his fingers at d’Vant, pointing to the shackles on Val’s wrists. D’Vant immediately moved forward to remove them as Val addressed Henry’s statement.
“Unfortunately, they do, my lord,” Val agreed, feeling some relief as he came to realize that Henry understood his role in the situation.
“When I arrived to prevent de Morville from chopping Becket to pieces, I had several soldiers with me, men bearing my crimson and white standard. That is why the rumors say I killed him. Clearly, I was there.”
“But you tried to stop it.”
“Aye, my lord. I did.”
Henry was beside himself with what had happened, the depth of the deception perpetrated in his name. Wearily, he planted himself on the end of the nearest bench, his mind overwrought with everything he’d been told.
“Then you have been treated most unfairly,” he said. “You are being falsely blamed for something that is most serious while the real murderers have fled like cowards.”