Chapter Nineteen
“You made mention of Bose de Moray. Deliver your message and be done.”
Duncan swallowed hard; nearly two days of a blistering pace had brought him to the halls of Windsor with the most difficult battle yet to come.
It had taken another two days to seek audience with the king, pleading to anyone who would listen, demanding to speak to Henry on Bose de Moray’s behalf.
Scarcely anyone paid him heed, one soldier going so far as to kick him in the arse, until a small steward bearing food for the king’s chamber crossed Duncan’s path.
Immediately, Duncan saw his chance to speak with Henry.
Not a wise choice, to be sure. Knocking the man on the head, he proceeded to steal clothes that were far too small for his large frame and, looking rather foolish in his confiscated clothing, made way to the king’s chambers with tray in hand.
The household guards, men who had once been under Bose’s command, knew immediately that the tall attendant was far too well-bred for servitude and accused him of being an assassin.
Looking down the end of a massive broadsword, Duncan began to frantically recite his purpose in coming.
And the nearly-screamed mention of Bose’s name had been enough to spare him.
As Duncan quickly discovered, the name of de Moray’s bore a good deal of weight within the halls of Windsor and in little time he was waiting within a small private chamber, critically watched over by two suspicious knights.
One man, tall and blond with piercing blue eyes, seemed particularly interested in his presence but Duncan ignored him nervously, wondering if he would indeed be provided the chance to relay his message to a king’s advisor or if he were simply waiting for his own death.
After several hours of an uneasy wait, the blond knight escorted him into a lavish solar populated by a few men quite disinterested in the wide-eyed visitor.
Urged on by the knightly escort, Duncan had made his way to the opposite end of the room where two men sat before diamond-paned glass windows.
A game of chess sat between them, one man small and red-haired, the other man massive with a great shorn skull.
As Duncan stood by with panting nervousness, the smaller man spoke without looking at him.
“You made mention of Bose de Moray. Deliver your message and be done.”
Swallowing away his anxiety, Duncan focused on the finely-clad young man. “I have a message for King Henry. His former captain, Sir Bose de Moray, is in a good deal of trouble that requires the king’s assistance immediately.”
“What sort of trouble?”
The shaved-head man moved a pawn into position as Duncan answered the question. “He is accused of stealing a woman, my lord. He is set to stand trial for the crime of thievery and the necessity of royal intervention is imperative.”
The fair-haired man did not look up from his game board, instead, moving a knight to capture his opponent’s pawn.
Only when the move was successfully accomplished did he look to the tall, red-haired knight in stolen servant’s clothing.
One droopy eyelid gave the youthful nobleman a dense appearance as he studied the oddly-clad warrior intently.
“There is more to this story than you are telling me. You will start at the beginning, please. And omit nothing.”
With another swallow and a deep breath for courage, Duncan did as he was told.
From the moment he was aware of Bose’s interest in the lady until the very second he himself fled Chaldon in pursuit of the de Moray’s pardon, Duncan made sure no detail was spared.
The small man listened carefully, going so far as to ignore the game before him as he digested the messenger’s words.
When Duncan finished, the young man with the heavy-lidded gaze continued to linger upon the anxious knight as if attempting to ascertain the truth to his wild story.
“And you say it is your brother who’s determined to press charges of thievery against Bose?”
Duncan nodded shortly. “Aye, my lord.”
The young nobleman chewed his lips thoughtfully. “And your name?”
“Sir Duncan Kerry, my lord.”
Several moments of unnerving silence followed before the thin young lord returned to his game board as if he had come to the conclusion that the tale presented had not been a message of the utmost concern.
“Your story failed to encompass everything this young knight is telling me, Dag,” he said casually, moving his bishop. “You merely said Bose had acted irrationally and was in great need of my aid.”
His large opponent watched the game before him, calculating his next move. “Obviously, Your Grace, this young knight is much closer to the problem than I am. If I’d known the entire situation when my cousin had come to Salisbury, I surely would have beaten a measure of sense into his thick skull.”
Young King Henry snorted, his first display of humor. “What makes you believe you would have been successful? The Bose de Moray I knew was the epitome of stubborn confidence. Within his own mind the man can do no wrong.”
Dag nodded shortly. “And within mine. Even if his actions were rash in stealing his ladylove, I cannot condemn them as incorrect. What remains now is exonerating him of the apparent charges against him.” For the first time, the king’s chess opponent looked to the red-haired young knight and immediately, Duncan saw a faint resemblance between the shave-scalped man and de Moray himself.
Something about the black, piercing eyes drew his attention as the massive man studied him closely.
“So your brother was the Lady Summer’s betrothed? ”
Duncan nodded slowly “Aye, my lord.”
Dag cocked an eyebrow. “Bose called the man vile and unscrupulous. Is he?”
Again, Duncan nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
Grunting in acknowledgement, Dag returned his attention to the game board just as Henry captured his second knight. Dag growled in frustration. “An unfair move, Your Grace. I was improperly distracted.”
Henry smirked. “You are improperly skilled. Cease your moaning and accept your defeat as a true man would.”
Growling again, Dag reached for his chalice of wine.
Taking a healthy swallow, he moved his bishop forward with casual flair.
“Then tell me, Your Grace; what is it you plan to do for my cousin? I would wager to say he is in a good deal of trouble by now and in dire need of your immediate assistance.”
Henry nodded faintly, contemplating his next course of action.
“I remember when I first met your cousin, Dag. The two of you were serving Hubert de Burgh shortly before he resigned his post as Chancellor. Whereas your cousin proceeded to swear fealty to me, you took your vows before the church. Do you remember?”
“I do,” Dag replied, pretending to be more interested in the game than the conversation at hand.
In faith, however, he was very much concerned with the conversation; he had spoken of nothing else for the past two days.
But try as he might, he could not convince Henry of the seriousness of the situation; apparently, the king believed Bose impervious to bad judgment or the prosecution of mere mortals.
With the added support of the red-haired knight’s stories, Henry was finally coming to grasp the seriousness of the situation and Dag thanked God for the unexpected appearance of the persistent Duncan Kerry.
For certain, his prayers for an advocate to his cause had been answered and he continued to stress his point as non-threateningly as he could manage.
“I also recall how quickly Bose rose within the ranks, following in Uncle Garret’s footsteps.
He was Captain of the Household Guard at the tender age of twenty-eight years and you relied upon him tremendously,” a bushy black eyebrow slowly lifted.
“Surely his loyalty to you during that time has earned a measure of your Divine Grace?”
Henry sighed, moving a pawn and avoiding the question put to him. “I wish he were still with me, although his successor is a brilliant replacement,” he directed his statement to the tall blond knight lingering in the shadows. “You’ve long known my feelings, Olav. Bose was a friend.”
The silent knight with the sharp blue eyes nodded faintly. “He was my friend as well, Your Grace. When he left, I would have gone with him had you not convinced me otherwise.”
“You mean had I not threatened your very life,” Henry muttered, laughing softly when Olav’s agreed. “God’s Blood, the man took my finest knights with him when he departed; Morgan, Tate, Farl, Adgar. Even old Artur. I was rather fond of the aged bastard.”
Dag made a foolish move, purposely intended to end the game.
“Uncle Artur is a unique soul. Christ, he shall probably outlive us all,” eyeing the king as the man countered the move, he pretended to study the board.
“And he will most definitely outlive Bose if you do not do something to help him. Soon, I would suspect.”
Henry studied the game board as well, drumming his fingertips on the table. After a moment, he looked to Duncan, slightly calmer than he had been upon first entering the stuffy chamber. “When you left, Bose was still on the run?”
Duncan nodded swiftly. “Aye, Your Grace. That was four days ago and I have no way of knowing what has happened in that time.”
Henry returned his attention to the game as Dag foolishly left his queen unguarded. “Four days is a long time,” he said, easily capturing his opponent’s primary piece. “I do suppose I should ride to Dorset and absolve Bose of these charges, which, as I would understand, are not entirely righteous.”
“They are not, Your Grace,” Duncan said quickly, feeling his first genuine surge of hope in four days.
“My brother coerced the lady’s father into breaking his word to Sir Bose.
She belonged to de Moray first and certainly, if there is anyone to charge with thievery, it should be my brother.
He is attempting to take what does not belong to him. ”