Chapter Seventeen #2
Henry shook his head, now growing agitated.
“Meanwhile, they openly rebel against me?” he demanded.
“I will not have it, Curtis. You know I will not. They are powerful enough to pick up where Simon has left off and I cannot have that manner of threat against me. If you were in my position, would you tolerate it?”
Curtis was clear. “I would not,” he said firmly.
“But I would also want to open a dialogue with them to understand what it is they want and what I can do to exist peacefully with them. They are strong men with good ideals, Your Grace. You need men like them. They have great hopes for the future of your country.”
Henry hissed. “It is my country,” he said. “They either serve me and my needs or they do not. There is no negotiation. Is that what you are trying to do? Negotiate for them?”
Curtis was coming to see that the king would not be swayed.
He didn’t want to discuss a kinder, gentler rule and he was quite sure the de Shera brothers were rebels and nothing more.
They were a threat, pure and simple, and that was how Henry would forever see them.
They were so intertwined with Simon, and had been for years, that Henry couldn’t see them as anything else.
And that was a problem.
“I am not negotiating for them,” Curtis replied evenly. “I am simply telling you that men’s ideals do not change so swiftly. If you want these men to swear fealty, then you must give them something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Perhaps all they need is your assurance that you will listen to them in matters that affect them. Perhaps all they want is to know that you will consider their advice.”
Henry sighed heavily with frustration. He was glaring at Curtis but happened to catch sight of de Moray. He pointed at the man.
“You,” he said to Bose. “I sent you to relay my terms of their surrender. Did you do that?”
Bose stepped forward. “I did, Your Grace.”
“And?”
Bose glanced at Curtis before speaking; it wasn’t an easy answer he was about to deliver.
“And they are men of strong ideals and convictions,” he said.
“I believe that Lord Curtis’ suggestion is a good one – if you will only speak with them and give them assurances that you will listen to their advice and concerns, they may be willing to swear fealty. ”
Henry’s jaw ticked. “You mean to tell me that you were unsuccessful in securing their surrender.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
Henry grunted with further displeasure. He turned away from Curtis and Bose, pacing the floor just as Chad had been doing minutes earlier. In fact, he caught sight of Chad, standing back with his cousins in the shadows, and jabbed a finger at him.
“Where is the de Shera heiress you took from Newington?” he demanded. “De Serreaux told me that you were able to remove her before he could get to her. Why did you do that?”
Chad was strong in the face of an angry king. He came forward, preparing to address his liege.
“Because it needed to be done, Your Grace,” he said.
“Who told you of my desire for the girl?”
“I heard rumor, Your Grace.”
“From whom?”
Chad would not reveal his source. “I cannot recall, Your Grace,” he replied. “I was half-drunk in a tavern in London when I heard the information. I do not recall who I heard it from.”
Henry scowled at him. “Do you think to lie to me?”
Chad shook his head. “Nay, my lord.”
“Was it de Moray who told you?”
“Was de Moray at that tavern? I do not recall, Your Grace.”
Henry was growing increasingly frustrated at Chad’s evasiveness. He jabbed a finger at him again. “Where is the girl?”
“Here, Your Grace.”
A soft, female voice came from the entryway and every man there turned to see a small, wrapped figure standing in the arched doorway. When she noticed the attention on her, she swiftly came forward into the light.
Chad, who had been stunned by the sound of the familiar voice, could hardly believe what he was seeing. What in God’s name is she doing here? He thought wildly. But when Alessandria began to move, he moved as well, bolting forward to intercept her before she could reach Henry.
“Aless!” he hissed, reeling with shock. “Why are you here?”
Alessandria gazed up into the face of the man she loved so well, feeling a lump form in her throat at the sight of him.
It was a surprise. Thinking he’d been occupied elsewhere, she had congratulated herself on being able to flee Isenhall without running into him.
She’d stolen a horse from the stables and slipped from the gates, losing herself in the chaos of the de Lohr army outside of the walls before taking the road north into Coventry.
Alessandria had spent those few short miles to Coventry telling herself that this was the right thing to do, that turning herself over to Henry would solve all of their problems and that he would no longer be inclined to attack Isenhall.
But seeing the armed men in the cathedral, and the unexpected appearance of Chad, had her shaken.
She was doing the right thing… wasn’t she?
“I did not know you would be here,” she whispered tightly.
Chad looked at her in confusion and disbelief, reaching out to grab her arms. “What do you mean?” he demanded softly, urgently. “Answer my question; what are you doing here?”
Alessandria put her hands to his face, touching the stubble. He was upset and her resolve to do the right thing was weakening the longer she looked at him.
“Please let me go,” she whispered. “You must let me go.”
Chad had no idea what she was talking about. “Let you go?” he repeated, aghast. “What does this mean? Why must I let you go?”
Gently but firmly, Alessandria managed to pull herself from his grasp, dodging him when he made another swipe for her. She rushed forward, towards the king and his men.
“My name is Alessandria de Shera,” she said. “I am the lady you wanted as a hostage. You sent your men for me at Newington Priory but Sir Chad took me instead.”
Henry was looking at the lady with great curiosity. “My lady,” he greeted. “This is unexpected, to say the least.”
Before he could say anything more, Chad came up behind Alessandria, quickly, and Henry was forced into action.
Swiftly, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into the group of his men, and when Chad tried to push through, de Serreaux and d’Vant were there to stop him with their swords drawn.
Steel flashed in the weak morning light and the message was clear.
Finally, they had their hostage.
Immediately, the mood of the meeting plummeted as the silver sword was unsheathed.
More swords were coming forth, including Lespada in the hand of Davyss.
That singing of steel against leather echoed against the walls and men began shuffling around as Chad tried to push forward to get to Alessandria, who cried out when she saw all of the weapons coming forth. She was immediately terrified.
“Nay!” she cried. “No fighting! Please, no fighting! I have come to turn myself over to the king so that he will no longer attack Isenhall. Now you have what you wanted, Your Grace; you have me. I will willingly surrender to you if you will now please leave my friends and family in peace.”
So her silly, na?ve plan was shouted for all to hear.
Henry still had a grip on her and she also had a grip on him, beseechingly.
He could see his Six preparing for a battle, with weapons out, and the soldiers he had brought also had weapons drawn.
Curtis de Lohr, his sons, as well as Bose and Chad had their swords out and the battle promised to be quite epic.
But as Henry looked around, he also noticed something else, something very odd – Davyss and Hugh were standing with de Lohr and de Moray.
He could see the wicked gleam of Lespada in Davyss’ hand and it took him a moment to realize that, for once, the weapon was not lifted in his defense.
It was lifted against him. Suddenly, it all came quite clear to Henry and, still gripping Alessandria, he waved an arm at the group.
“Cease!” he roared, shoving through his armed men, dragging Alessandria with him. There was an expression of incredible disbelief on his features as he looked at Davyss and Hugh. “What are you two doing? Do you actually think to stand with de Lohr?”
Davyss didn’t lower his weapon. “Aye, Your Grace,” he said evenly.
“I had hoped it would not come to this but given the choice between defending you and standing with my brothers and friends, I am sorry to say that I will stand with them. You ordered me to march on Isenhall to test my loyalties, Your Grace, and I did. If you did not want to know the answer to that question, then mayhap you should not have asked it.”
Henry was astounded. “You would stand against me?” he was clearly shocked. “How can you do this, Davyss? You belong to me, do you hear? You are mine!”
Davyss remained in position. “I support you in every endeavor, Your Grace,” he said.
“I will fight and kill and die for you. But if you force me to make a choice between you and the House of de Lohr and, ultimately, the House of de Shera, then you must understand I will choose to stand with my brothers. It is as simple as that.”
Henry stared at him, his face growing red.
“I knew it,” he hissed. “I have always known you were a de Montfort at heart, simply waiting for the moment to take a stand against me. Don’t you know that?
Everyone knows you are the bastard son of Simon de Montfort because the man seduced your mother those years ago.
I was waiting for you to show your true loyalties and now you have. It is bred into you to hate me.”