Dacian lifted his hands, slowly, to prove to the lady that he had no weapons. “My lady, I assure you that I have no intention of harming Val,” he said. “Quite the contrary.”
Vesper heard the question from Val but she was singularly focused on the knight who had evidently arrested him. She completely ignored Val and his attempts to pull her away. “Then why do you shackle him?” she demanded. “He is not guilty of that which he has been accused. Honorless men assassinated the Archbishop of Canterbury and are trying to turn the guilt on to Val. He did not do anything except follow what he believed were Henry’s orders!”
Dacian nodded patiently. “I know, my lady,” he said. “Lord du Reims told me. Uh… may I have your name, please?”
“Lady Vesper d’Avignon,” she said without hesitation.
“She is to be my wife, Dacian,” Val said, trying to decide how he felt about Vesper’s sudden and violent appearance. Truthfully, he was still shocked because he never would have imagined such a thing from her. “We were hoping to marry this morning but your arrival thwarted those plans.”
Dacian understood a little more now. “Ah,” he said. “So she is upset that her wedding was moved aside. That is understandable.”
Vesper scowled. “That is not why I am upset,” she said. “I am upset because an innocent man is being treated like a criminal. Remove those shackles from him immediately.”
Dacian looked to Val, who shook his head faintly at the man. His shock was starting to wear off and he realized that he was very touched by her desire to protect him. The woman had a vast wealth of courage he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, bravery she’d proven at every turn since their introduction. But this… this was beyond even what he believed she was capable of and his admiration for her grew.
So did his love.
“Vesper, sweet,” he said. “Look at me.”
Vesper shook her head. “I will not take my eyes from him,” she said, referring to Dacian. “He means to harm you. They all mean to harm you.”
Val was trying to calmly defuse the situation when one of Dacian’s men, who was relatively close to Vesper, reached out to disarm her. She caught the movement and slashed at the man, who came away with a nasty gash to his wrist. Then she used her horse to push Val away from Henry’s men, all the while keeping herself between them.
“I will do the same to any man who tries to harm Val,” she said loudly to the group. “If you would all like your flesh carved into, then by all means, try that again.”
Val’s astonishment returned as he watched her threaten an entire army with a dagger, but he felt enormous pride as well. This reasonable and wise woman had what men had – valor, he thought. She has great valor. But in this case, it was misplaced. It was also dangerous. She fully intended to use that weapon on his behalf and he simply couldn’t allow it. Reaching out, he managed to get hold of her sleeve.
“Come here,” he said quietly, tugging on her arm. “Give me that dagger before you kill someone.”
Surprisingly, Vesper pulled away. “I will not,” she said. “I am sorry if it displeases you, but I cannot let these men harm you. The only way I know to prevent that is to go with you to Winchester. Do not tell me to remain here at Selborne because I will not. I am going. I discussed it with your mother and she is in support.”
Val’s heart broke, just a little. He could see how frightened she was, which had spurred her bravery. “It is not necessary, I promise,” he said calmly. “The man you pulled your dagger on is Dacian d’Vant. He is Henry’s Captain of the Guard. He will ensure I have very fair treatment so you needn’t worry, I swear it. And look – Lord du Reims will also ensure my protection. You trust him, do you not? Now, please, give me that dagger.”
Vesper’s gaze moved to Tevin, who was several feet away from Val and watching the entire scene with a good deal of sorrow. She could see it in his face. But her focus returned to Val and she shook her head, her eyes welling with tears, tears she tried very hard to chase away.
“Nay,” she said tightly. “I will not. I will protect you until we reach Winchester. If you tell me to stay behind, know that I will simply follow you so you may as well accept my presence. I will be your guard.”
Val thought it was about the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. He’d never had anyone in his life willing to protect him so, but he also knew that she had no idea what she was really getting herself in to.
“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he said quietly. “I promise you that Dacian and Lord du Reims will protect me. I will not be mistreated. But every one of those men has a sword much bigger than that dagger you hold and if they really wanted to get at me, they would carve right through you. I do not wish to see you in such danger, not when I am fighting for my very life. I would sacrifice all to protect you and, in the end, mayhap one of those swords would carve through me instead. Do you understand what I am telling you? I love and admire you for your fierce support, but it would be much better if you gave me the dagger and returned to my mother. She will be in need of your comfort right now.”
“I have never heard anything so ridiculous.”
The voice came from behind and Val turned to see his mother riding up on one of her small gray palfreys. Swathed in gray wool from head to toe, she blended with the cloudy morning and gray sunrise. At the sight of her, Val’s men instantly parted and permitted her to pass between them, for no one wanted to get in Lady de Nerra’s way.
Val didn’t think he could be any more astonished but he was wrong. As he watched, his mother pulled out his father’s broadsword, something she’d slept with since his death. It was fairly heavy but she laid it across her lap as she rode up between Val and Vesper.
“God’s Bones, Mother,” Val said, shaking his head. “You must have the hearing of a dog to hear what I just said to Vesper. What on earth are you doing here?”
Margaretha eyed her son. “Your voice carries and, believe it or not, I am very familiar with it,” she said. “I have heard many things you thought I could not.”
“I would believe that.”
Margaretha’s gaze lingered on her son for a moment before turning to Tevin. “And you allowed them to put shackles on my son?” she asked the earl. “I thought you were going to protect him.”
Tevin sighed heavily, not wanting to agitate the women who had rushed forth to save Val. He understood that they were frightened and, in truth, he could see his own wife doing the very same thing, which was why he was so patient with the interruption. “It is necessary for now, Lady de Nerra,” he said. “No one means to harm him, I swear it. And I will protect him with my life if that is the case. You have my word.”
Margaretha was mildly comforted by his declaration but not entirely. Her focus moved to d’Vant. “Dacian, I am displeased,” she said in a tone that all men feared. “You have shared my table many times. I know your mother. Why have you come to arrest my son? He is innocent of the murder of Canterbury. If no one has told you that, then I will.”
Dacian would rather face all the armies in France than the formidable Lady de Nerra. “I have been told, my lady,” he said. “And I am under orders from Henry. I must return Val to him so that Henry, too, may know of his innocence.”
Margaretha glanced up at the sky, now considerably brighter with the sun just peeking over the horizon. “Then let us waste no more time,” she said. “Lead on, Dacian. We will follow.”
“Wait,” Val said, his tone bordering on frustrated. He looked at Dacian. “Please, move the army out. I will join you shortly. It seems that my womenfolk are bordering on rebellion and if I do not stop it, they will threaten everyone.”
Dacian was glad it wasn’t him having to do the duty, especially not against Lady de Nerra. Quickly, he reined his horse around and motioned to the men. “Gladly,” he told Val. “You will hurry, please.”
Val didn’t respond; his gaze was on Vesper and his mother. Margaretha was looking at him quite stubbornly while Vesper was looking at Margaretha, seemingly
surprised by her appearance. Val was coming to think that Vesper didn’t know of Margaretha’s plans simply by the expression on her face.
But no matter; he had to end this before it got out of hand. As Tevin, Calum, and finally Kenan were the last men to follow Dacian and the soldiers several feet down the road to wait, Val endeavored to convince his mother and Vesper to return to Selborne.
It wasn’t going to be easy.
“Ladies,” Val said, trying to be very understanding and patient with them because he knew that anything else wouldn’t work. “I admire your bravery more than I can say. I am deeply touched that you are trying to protect me. But I do not require your assistance at this time. I would appreciate it if you would please return to Selborne. That is my wish.”
Margaretha, who was unimpressed by his words, turned to Vesper. “Coming from a man with shackles on his wrists, I take no stock in his assurance,” she said. “Shall we go, my lady? If you will ride on his other side, we shall make an excellent escort, you and I. No one will dare cross us to get to him.”
Vesper nodded eagerly, reining her horse to Val’s other side. When he looked at her, baffled, she slapped the butt of his war horse and the animal bolted forward. “Your mother and I intend to escort you and there is nothing you can do about it so you may as well accept it,” she said as she trotted alongside him. “I am not trying to be disrespectful, Val, but surely you cannot expect us to simply wait for you and pray that Henry forgives you. It would drive me mad to wait and I am sure it would not do your mother any good, either. Do you not understand that we do not want anything to happen to you?”
Val was reining his horse back, slowing it down as Vesper’s slap on the rump had jolted it. “And do you not understand what a fool I will look like with two women as my escort?” he shot back softly. Seeing her face fall, he hastened to apologize. “I am sorry, sweet, I do not mean to be cruel, but you are not helping me. You are making me the laughing stock.”
His words cut her but she would not surrender. “Better a laughing stock than the admired dead,” she said, wounded. “As long as your mother and I ride with you, those men will not dare harm you.”
Val couldn’t believe he was debating this with her. “Why? Because of that dagger?” he asked, pointing out the obvious. “I have already told you that they have swords much bigger than that dagger, Vesper. They will slice through you quite easily. Is that what you want me to see? My future wife slain before my eyes?”
“They will not touch her,” Margaretha said. “I will take out the first man who tries. If you do not believe me, then watch and see. I am not so feeble and old that I cannot swing this sword. Since no man wishes to die by a woman’s hand, it will keep your haters at bay, at least until we reach Winchester.”
Val was on the end of a losing battle. Shaking his head, he grunted unhappily, lifting a hand to wipe at his face because this situation was so unbelievable. “So you are telling me that simply because a man does not want to have the shame of being slain by a woman, that alone will keep me safe?”
“Exactly.”
Val hated to admit it, but there might actually be some truth to that. A man’s pride was funny that way. But he had to try one last time.
“Mother, please,” he begged softly. “Think of your bad heart. Of your health. This trip will be most taxing. Will you not go home? Please?”
Margaretha was facing forward, looking at the waiting army up ahead with the sword still laid across her lap. “I cannot,” she said after a moment. “I have my future grandchildren to protect, and my legacy, so I must see this through regardless of my health. Henry will listen to the evidence presented. If he does not, he will be very sorry.”
Val cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Are you actually going to threaten the king if he does not release me?”
Margaretha didn’t look at him. For a moment, she didn’t reply, seemingly lost in thought. “It is said that Rosamunde travels with Henry these days as part of his court,” she said, almost casually. “I know the girl. I met her at Winchester two Christmases past. Do you recall?”
She spoke of Rosamunde Clifford, Henry’s beloved mistress. That talk made Val nervous because Margaretha was a friend of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Henry’s wife. Val’s mother and father had shared a monogamous marriage and, as far as Val knew, his father had never taken a mistress, but any talk of mistresses upset his mother greatly. She felt very strongly that a mistress or concubine was immoral.
“What about Rosamunde, Mother?” he asked suspiciously.
Margaretha looked at him, then, and Val didn’t like what he saw in her expression. In fact, it frightened him. Such black determination there, something unmovable and… wicked. Aye, it was wicked.
“If Henry does not release you of all charges, it would be a shame if the dagger that Vesper holds finds its way between Rosamunde’s ribs,” she said. “It would make one less whore in court.”
It was a cold thing to say, shocking and cruel, but not something out of the realm of possibility when it came to his mother. Now Val understood the blackness to her expression… and he believed every word.
“I have never heard you speak that way,” he said.
“That is because my son has never been threatened before. If Henry is going to condemn you, then I will make sure he pays the price.”
“So you are coming with me to kill Rosamunde?” he asked, incredulous.
Margaretha sighed and looked away again. Her gaze moved over the winter-dead landscape. “Do you see this land, Val?” she asked. “This is what my soul would be should you leave me. I would be as dead as the ground in winter. Therefore, I have nothing to lose if something happens to you. And an old woman with a weapon can be a deadly thing, indeed. Remember that.”
Val pulled his horse to a halt. They were nearing the army and he didn’t want their conversation overheard. “Am I really hearing this correctly?” he asked. “Are you truly telling me that if Henry does not absolve me of Canterbury’s death, then you will go on a killing rampage to punish him?”
“No one will suspect an old woman.”
Val was stunned. Margaretha hadn’t reined her horse to a halt when Val had and was continuing to plod forward, so he spurred his horse and caught up to her quickly, blocking her.
“Is that how you would have others remember the House of de Nerra?” he hissed. “A son who was blamed for killing Canterbury and a mother who went mad because of it? Because that is not how I wish to be remembered. If you are serious about this, I will have Dacian put you in irons right now. I will not let you spout threats against Henry and possibly get us all killed when I am quite sure this situation will be amicably resolved. I know you are frightened, Mother, but you must be reasonable. I need your level head. I want to return home when this is all over and marry Vesper and have those grandchildren you so badly want, but I must have your promise that if anything happens, you will not follow through with this insane threats. Promise me!”
He boomed the last two words and Margaretha jumped in spite of herself. That cool exterior she was projecting suddenly fractured as Val’s anger was unleashed. She looked at her son, trying not to appear startled by his shout. After a moment, she merely nodded and looked away again but that wasn’t good enough for Val. He bent over, grabbing her by the arm.
“Say it,” he hissed. “Promise me you will do nothing.”
“You are hurting me.”
“I do not care. Promise me.”
Margaretha was stubborn but she wasn’t foolish. Moreover, she had always been willing to give in to Val’s wishes, no matter what they were. As difficult as it was for her, she surrendered.
“I promise.”
Val released her immediately, looking over at Vesper, who had listened to the entire conversation. She didn’t look surprised by it; in fact, she looked as if she understood. Something about those beautiful hazel eyes conveyed understanding in Margaretha’s position. I have nothing to lose if something happens to you. Val cocked hi
s head at her.
“I do not have to worry about you, do I?” he asked quietly. “You will behave yourself, will you not?”
Vesper nodded, but it was reluctantly. “I will do what you wish me to do.”
“Then go back to Selborne.”
“Anything but that.”
He started to get mad but the ridiculousness, the seriousness, of the situation overwhelmed him and he just ended up laughing about it. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, either – it was one of disbelief and frustration. But the truth was that, all things considered, he knew he was a very fortunate man to have two women so devoted to him. Brave, bold women who would do anything for him, including kill for him. As foolish as it was, he was touched by it deeply. Men should be so lucky to have such rabid devotion in their lives. When he thought he’d lost everything – his reputation, his freedom – perhaps he hadn’t really lost anything at all. Perhaps those things he’d taken for granted had been the better part of him all along.
The love of not one good woman but two. It gave him the strength to face what he must.
“Very well,” he said, knowing there was nothing short of having them taken back to Selborne in ropes that would force them to return there. “Then stay close to me. We have already wasted too much time. The king is waiting.”
Vesper and Margaretha didn’t leave his side the entire ride to Winchester.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Near Winchester Castle
“I wonder if Henry knows.”
It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. De Morville, riding in the lead of the group as Winchester Castle came into view against the dark morning sky, hissed irritably.
“Of course he knows,” he said. “Everybody knows. We have spent all of this time hiding in tiny villages and sleeping in beds that had families of bugs crawling all over them so we could stay out of sight but, still, people in these towns were speaking of Canterbury. Of course Henry knows. Everybody knows!”
Stubbled, exhausted, and feeling a great deal of remorse for his actions of that terrible night in December, le Breton’s dark-rimmed eyes peered out from beneath the heavy cloak he wore.