Chapter One
Two days earlier
The Bloody Head tavern
London
“We are heroes!”
“We are more than heroes! We are the saviors!”
“The king thinks so; otherwise, I would not be so bloody rich. Rich, rich, rich.”
“You are already rich, you hag. What are you going to do with more money?”
“I am not a hag. Only women can be hags.”
“With your long hair, you look like a woman. Chad, why is your hair so long?”
Sir Chadwick de Lohr grinned at the knight who called him a woman, a gesture that looked very much like his father and grandfather. All of the de Lohr men had that same bright, big-toothed smile that women found irresistible.
“Find me a woman who tells me I do not look like a man,” he said, wavering because he was drunk. They all were. Suddenly, he unfastened his breeches and they fell to his knees. “Does this look like a woman? Tell me the truth! Have you seen this on a woman, ever?”
The knights around him were laughing uproariously as Chad took to flashing his bare arse to the patrons in the smoky, smelly tavern.
Most of them cheered his display while a few of the women yelled proposals.
Chad encouraged the rowdy group until a couple of the tavern whores approached him and propositioned him in graphic detail.
Frowning unhappily, he turned his back on them and pulled up his breeches.
“Great Bleeding Lucifer,” he slurred. “It seems that my manhood is a magnet to everything ugly and fetid in this room. Did you see those vermin approach me? What gall! What nerve!”
Standing next to Chad was his younger brother, taller and skinnier, with the de Lohr blond hair and a rather stylish mustache that he was quite proud of. Stefan de Lohr shook his head at his eldest brother.
“If you flash your fishing tackle around like that, you are bound to have some bites,” he said, listening to the men around him roar. “I’ve never seen a man more apt to drop his breeches than you, Chad. Sooner or later, someone is going to cut something off that you may be in need of.”
Chad scowled at his younger brother. All of the men had been drinking, all seven of them, but no one could blame them.
Having spent the past several months in various skirmishes, culminating in the biggest battle of all at Evesham, these were knights of the highest order, men upon whom the fate of a nation often hung in the balance.
Drink was a way of alleviating that pressure, even if it was only for a short time.
Along with Chad and his brothers, Stefan de Lohr and the dark-haired, dark-eyed Perrin de Lohr, they were joined by Jorden de Russe, a mountain of a man with dark hair and a swarthy look about him, and also Rhun du Bois, a stunningly handsome young knight who possessed the bright blue eyes that the du Bois men were so famous for having.
Rhun’s father was Maddoc du Bois, a great friend of Chad’s father, Daniel, and a knight who had served Canterbury for many years.
But Maddoc and his wife had returned to France when Maddoc’s father had passed away to oversee the lands and responsibilities of Rhys du Bois, a man who had been a close kin to the Duke of Navarre.
But when Maddoc had departed, he’d left his youngest son with Daniel, and Rhun was every bit the great knight his father had been.
All of these men were descendants of great knights, of men who had shaped England, but that was especially true of the men from the House of de Lohr.
It was a name much like de Wolfe or de Russe or de Moray or de Winter or de Lara.
These men were giants in the military circles of England during this turbulent time, men of benevolence but also men of power.
They were men who controlled the power of a nation that had just righted itself after Simon de Montfort’s defeat at Evesham those weeks ago.
Now, these men were heading home with their armies, having done their duty for king and country.
As their vast armies camped on the outskirts of London, awaiting orders to head home, those in command of those armies were in the tavern getting drunk and relaxing for the first time in months.
It seemed like years and Chad, displeased with his brother’s attempts to control his behavior, dropped his breeches again and displayed his tight, white buttocks to the room again. Everyone cheered.
“Bloody Christ,” Stefan shook his head; he tended to be a brother without much humor, even when drunk. “We must get you home, Chadwick. Mother and Father will be anxious to see us and if you drop your breeches in front of our mother, she will not hesitate to take a stick to you.”
Chad was too drunk to care at the moment, unusual for the man who usually kept himself tightly under control. He found that he liked it when the room cheered for his naked arse.
“Stefan, you’ve not had enough to drink or you would not be speaking like that,” Chad said. “Why so serious, brother?”
Stefan threw a thumb at their youngest brother, Perrin. “Because Perry is drunker than you are,” he said. “One of us has to keep a level head or all of us will end up stripped and beaten in an alley somewhere. I should not like for that to happen.”
Chad made a face at his brother before looking to Jorden de Russe, who was standing next to him.
All of the men were standing around a table near the corner of the room that they could just as easily be sitting at, but it was such a habit with them to be ready to move at a moment’s notice that none of them seemed to realize that they could actually sit and relax.
They preferred to stand as if surveying the room, presenting their powerful and armored presence for those in the tavern to worship.
“Where do you go now, de Russe?” Chad asked his friend. “You have often spoken of your home at Clearwell Castle. Do you intend to return?”
Jorden was a handsome man with a quiet manner. But he was also more apt than any of them to snap a man’s neck at the least provocation. He was into his third cup of ale, his gaze distant as he thought on Chad’s question.
“I suppose so,” he said. “I have not seen my father in months and I should like to see him again. But then… I was thinking that I might like to travel. After the hell of the past few years, I feel as if I want to get away from everything. I have always wanted to see Rome. Mayhap I shall make the trip there.”
Chad cocked his head thoughtfully. “I hear they have full women and delectable food,” he said.
“But that is provided Henry lets you go. You know that our fight is not over with, Jorden. The younger Simon de Montfort has an army and all sources indicate he will continue his father’s fight.
I would not yet leave the country if I were you.
We may have need of your mighty sword, my friend. ”
It was a sobering statement that dampened their revelry.
They all knew that regardless of Henry’s victory, and of their celebration this night, the fight to secure the throne of England was not over.
It was wishful thinking on de Russe’s part to suggest he could travel out of the country.
None of them could. The mood around the knights began to weigh heavily, no longer that of laughter and reflection.
Now, their thoughts returned to the battle on that great and terrible day.
“What of Davyss?” Rhun du Bois asked. “Has anyone spoken to de Winter since the battle? With what happened to Simon….”
Oddly enough, Chad didn’t seem so drunk as he answered.
“Everyone knows that Simon de Montfort was the best friend of Davyss’ father,” he said, looking into the dregs at the bottom of his cup.
“De Montfort was Davyss’ godfather, for Christ’s sake.
Davyss was very fond of the man. And the way he died…
I have no love for de Montfort but what Prince Edward’s men did to him was dishonorable at best. No man deserves to die the way de Montfort did. ”
“Roger Mortimer took his head,” Perrin de Lohr said quietly, nearly weeping into his cup. He was the sensitive brother. “He took his head and I heard Davyss say he wanted to buy it back. Has anyone even seen Davyss or Hugh? I worry what has happened to them.”
Chad grunted unhappily. Draining what was left in his cup.
“Our cousins went with Davyss and Hugh,” he said.
“They are not alone because they would get into trouble with Henry if no one was there to advise them. The House of de Winter serves the crown of England but the heart of the de Winters is with de Montfort. They want his body back and that is not going to happen, I fear. It is a tragic situation, indeed. Therefore, our cousins went with Davyss and Hugh to ensure something terrible does not happen to them.”
“Your cousins?” Rhun du Bois clarified. “The sons of Curtis de Lohr?”
Chad nodded. “Aye,” he said. “I realize there are a good many de Lohrs that sprang from the mighty Christopher de Lohr’s loins, but I speak of the current Earl of Worcester’s sons.
Chris and Arthur and William have been shadowing Davyss and Hugh to make sure they do not end up in any trouble.
In fact, they were to bring Davyss and Hugh to this tavern.
I am surprised they have not arrived by now.
We were all going to meet here, have a final drink together, and leave for home.
I hope they haven’t run into any trouble. ”
That was a very real possibility and the mood of the men plummeted further. Chad went so far as to set his cup down. He just didn’t feel like drinking anymore as thoughts of Evesham tumbled upon him. He’d been trying to forget what he saw.