Chapter Ten
Westminster Palace
“This arrived for you this morning, Aidric,” Britt said. “For some reason, they kept it at the gatehouse and are just now sending it over.”
Aidric was in the gathering chamber that the Guard of Six used for their formal meetings, looking over a vellum that had the guest list written on it.
He’d just received it from one of the king’s clerks.
Britt was standing a few feet away with a large, canvas-wrapped parcel in his hands and Aidric glanced up from the vellum, peering at it curiously.
“Who is it from?” he asked.
Britt cocked an eyebrow. “I was told the messenger was from Thornhill.”
Aidric frowned, his attention now fully on the parcel as he stood up from his chair. “Thornhill?” he repeated with confusion. “That’s the Archbishop of Cambridge’s property.”
“Are you going to open this or are you going to make us guess what it is?”
With a snort, Aidric took it out of Britt’s hands, realizing that there was some give to it. It didn’t feel solid. In fact, it felt quite light. Curiosity turned to puzzlement as he untied the hemp rope that was holding it together. Peeling back the canvas, he gasped when he saw what it was.
So did Britt.
“God’s Bones,” Britt said in awe, reaching out to pick up what was on the top of the pile. He shook it out, revealing a magnificent, vest-like tunic made from crimson wool with a gorgeously done dark blue shield framing three crossed yellow swords. “Look at these, Aidric. They’re spectacular.”
Aidric was as shocked as Britt was. “Indeed,” he said, picking up the second tunic and seeing the quality of the fabric. “This is incredible. And you said they came from Thornhill?”
“They did.”
“What would the Archbishop of Cambridge be doing sending us these…”
He abruptly trailed off and Britt looked over at him. He was peering at the crimson fabric quite closely.
“What?” Britt said. “What is it?”
Aidric shook his head. “I cannot believe it.”
“Believe what?”
Aidric wasn’t quite sure where to start. “When I first spoke with the archbishop’s courtesan yesterday, she was looking at a fabric much like this one,” he said. “In fact, I think this is the same fabric. She said it was dyed with insects.”
Britt looked back at the tunic. “Vermin made this color?”
“Evidently,” Aidric said. “In the course of the conversation, I told her why I’d gone to Adelie’s. I told her about the tunics and described them to her. She must have… She knew that Adelie could not make the tunics on such short notice, so she must have made them herself.”
Britt shook his head, baffled. “Astonishing,” he said. “You must have made an impression on her. You did save her life, after all. Mayhap this is her thanks to you.”
Aidric didn’t have an answer. “It is as good an explanation as any,” he said. “But I cannot believe she did this. How many are there?”
Britt pulled out and counted seven tunics total, all of them finely made. “Seven,” he said. “One for each of us.”
Aidric inspected each one, laid out on the table before them. “Amazing,” he said. “The fact that she would do this, and with this very expensive fabric, is truly amazing.”
“Do we wear them?”
Aidric was fixed on the tunics. “You mean given everything we spoke of with Perrin?”
“Exactly,” Britt said. “What if Cambridge authorized these? What if he knew about them and the fabric is poisoned?”
That had both Aidric and Britt looking at the material very carefully. They smelled it, rubbed their hands on it, looking for any scent or residue.
“I cannot imagine it would be, but one can never be too careful,” he said. “Go find a soldier. Have him wear one of these for an hour. Let us see how he feels at the end of that hour.”
Britt grinned. “That is a cruel joke, Aidric.”
“Would you rather wear it for an hour?”
Britt simply shook his head and left the chamber, heading out to find a gullible soldier who would do his bidding.
It wasn’t a difficult task, for the Guard of Six had rank within the compound of Westminster, so Britt was able to find a very young soldier, eager to please, and the young man stood in one of the tunics for over an hour while Britt monitored him.
At the end of the hour, the young soldier felt perfectly fine, even when Britt made him run around and sweat so that the tunic would dampen.
Still, the lad maintained his good health, so it was determined that the tunics weren’t poisoned.
Aidric took great pleasure in distributing them to each member of the Guard of Six.
When the king entered Westminster Hall to a cavalcade of burning torches, banners, cheering guests, and the sound of a horn, the Guard of Six was right beside him, dressed in the tunics that identified their order.
Thanks to an anonymous gift from Thornhill, it was just as Aidric had hoped.
His men were a proud unit bearing a proud standard.
Let the feast begin.