Fatal Truths (The Anarchy Medieval Romance) (17 page)

ALEX AND ROMAIN TRAVELLED TOWARDS CAEN
with a handful of Montbryce men, their horses’ hooves churning up the road that had turned to mud after a heavy morning rain. Faol ambled along beside them like a puppy, showing no signs of the ordeal he’d undergone only a day earlier, except to pause from time to time to furiously lick his wounds.

Whenever they came to a fork or crossroads, Faol chose without hesitation, and they
followed without question.

After several hours, the wolfhound suddenly raced off into a
forest of evergreens. The men dismounted, tethered their horses and went in pursuit, immediately aware of a whiff of decay in the air.

“
Dieu
!” Romain exclaimed. “That’s unpleasant! It’s making my eyes water.”

“Something definitely died,” Alex agreed, his voice muffled by his hand over his nose and mouth.

They came upon Faol, sitting by the carcass of an animal.

Romain peered at the mess. “
Maggots and perhaps rodents have begun their work, but it doesn’t appear any large predators have stumbled on it yet.”

Alex knelt, fearing he might spew the bile rising in his throat. “Definitely a lynx,” he said, pointing to the tufted ears.
“A magnificent specimen. By the look of the terrain, it was dragged here. That would take strength.”

Faol barked.

“Brave dog,” Romain said, “to tangle with such a wild beast.”

Alex
stood, picked up a stick and poked it into a hole in the neck. “He was defending people he loved, but he didn’t kill the cat. See the wound that goes right through? An arrow, I suspect.”

Faol barked again.

“What else can you find for us, Faol?”

The dog sniffed the air then ran off deeper into the
wood. The men followed to a clearing where they found the ashes of a very large fire. Foreboding crept up Alex’s spine.

“Too big
for a campfire,” Romain observed, scratching his head.

They both hunkered down next to the blackened earth. Alex poked at the ashes with
the stick. “Wait!” he exclaimed, making the sign of the crucifixion across his body. He nudged at a blackened bone in the ashes, then spotted a charred brown skull next to a thick log that hadn’t burned through. “This is a funeral pyre.”

He reached for a small piece of scorched fabric
, blowing off the ash that clung to it. “Dugald’s, if I’m not mistaken. This is a remnant of his
playd
.”

“What do you think went on here?” Romain asked. “And where are Elayne and the children?”

A thousand possibilities whirled in Alex’s head, but he held steadfastly to the hope they were still alive. And with her husband dead—

“As I recall,
Dugald had no bow, and I’d think it unlikely he kept one in the camp. Scots are not known as bowmen.”

Romain nodded. “Not like the Welsh.”

“Dugald didn’t kill the cat. There seems to be no other fabric in the ashes, and only a Scot would take the trouble to wrap a man in his
playd
for his funeral.”

“So how did he die?”

Alex walked slowly around the clearing, unwilling to consider the possibility Elayne had done away with her husband. Dugald was a poor excuse for a man, but at least he afforded protection. A woman and two children alone wouldn’t last long in these woods. “There was a contingent of men. See how the grass is trampled here? Probably one of them killed the lynx and his comrades helped him drag it into the forest.”

“Perhaps they killed Dugald and took Elayne and the children? Brigands, do you think?”

“They had horses, so I’d wager soldiers. Brigands wouldn’t bother with a funeral.”

“But whose army would be so close to Caen?”

Alex scanned the environs, trying to get his bearings. “Especially since the tracks lead away from Caen,” he replied, an awful suspicion growing in his heart.

Romain understood immediately. “We must warn King Stephen.”

Alex put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Take the men and ride to Caen.”

Romain shrugged his hands away. “
Non
! We must go together. It’s our duty.”

Alex held firm. “Brother,
Elayne and her children are my destiny. You know it as well as I. That’s where my duty lies. They may be hurt. Who knows what happened with the cat?

“If Gallien and Laurent have arrived in Caen, enlist their aid to
muster a force and follow me. We’ll show Geoffrey of Anjou what a real army looks like.”

~~~

ALEX MAY HAVE SENT OFF THE MEN with Romain, but he wasn’t alone. He had a secret and stealthy weapon and was confident the dog would lead him to Elayne.

He followed the wolfhound out of the
copse, through acres of flat grasslands, and into rolling hills. He could have followed the trail of the mounted men himself, but Faol’s obvious certainty that they were on the right track reassured him.

He left traces of his passage for his brothers to follow, a bent twig here, a line of stones there,
a strip torn off his shirt tied to a tree—things they’d been trained to do as boys when playing games of war.

He became concerned when the dog unexpectedly bounded out of sight, but then
breathed again when he caught sight of him, sitting at the base of a small hillock, waiting. The animal cocked his head, listening. Alex did the same.

The faint but unmistakable sounds of men and horses reached his ears. He dismounted, tethered his
steed and joined his faithful companion. The dog crept up the side of the hillock on his belly. Alex followed, crawling to the top on his forearms and shins.

What he saw astonished him. About a
league away, tucked into a valley, scores of military tents sat clustered together. “Where is the Angevin getting all these tents?” he whispered to Faol.

The dog looked at him curiously, his
pink tongue lolling to one side of his mouth.

Elayne and her children were in one of those
canvas shelters, but how to find her?

The dog could do it without difficulty.

It was vital he let her know he was nearby.

He rolled onto his back and retrieved the braided token from his gambeson, inhaling
Elayne’s scent. He kissed it, then beckoned Faol to his side. “Take this to Elayne,” he said firmly. The dog sniffed the braid, then sat patiently while Alex carefully tied it to his collar with the twisted piece of Dugald’s
playd
.

He rubbed the dog’s ears.
“
Allez!
”

The dog licked his face then scampered off.

~~~

ELAYNE WAS NERVOUS
, and ill at ease in the borrowed clothing that fitted poorly and smelled worse. She suspected Geoffrey didn’t believe her story about the flight from Montbryce, and it wouldn’t take long for the lie to be exposed.

B
ut her greater anxiety came from rumors passed onto her by the soldier she’d befriended that Maud was expected to arrive in the camp any day.

The aspiring Queen
would recognize instantly that Henry and Claricia were too young to be who they claimed to be, having been familiar with the Scottish royal family before her second marriage to her much younger husband, Geoffrey.

Though
Elayne and the children weren’t under guard, she was aware they were being watched.

Geoffrey invited
Henry to observe the soldiers training with their swords and other weapons. Elayne and Claricia were left to spend time together alone. She was glad of the chance to hold her grieving daughter in her arms and console her. “Your father died bravely,” she whispered, “and he loved you.”

“I know,” Claricia sighed,
twirling her finger in her mother’s hair, “but he didn’t love you. He beat you.”

Elayne
rubbed her daughter’s back. “It’s sad, my darling, but few men love their wives, and many treat them no better than cattle.”

“
Lix loves you,” Claricia whispered, smiling. “He would never treat you like a cow.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she
felt the flush spread across her breasts and up her neck. “And he loves you and Henry too.”

Claricia sat up, looking indignant. “No, I mean he loves you
,” she insisted impatiently.

Elayne shifted her weight, settling them into a more comfortable position. “Do you like
Alex?” she asked tentatively.

“Aye,” her daughter replied, yawning. “He smells better than
dadaidh
.”

Elayne couldn’t help but chuckle as she kissed the top of Claricia’s head, but she quickly set the girl on her feet and scrambled to rise when Faol loped into the tent.

“Faol!” Claricia cried, hugging the dog’s neck.

“Hush,” Elayne whispered, her heart beating too fast. “Let me see his collar.”

The brooch was gone. Fear and elation warred inside her. Had the hound taken the badge to Alex, or had it fallen off?

She sank back on her haunches, unsure what to do. Faol pushed his nose into her hand. She looked
more closely at his collar, her heart leaping into her throat when she caught sight of the twisted bit of
playd
.

Carefully, she untied
it, revealing the braid.

Claricia
peered at it curiously. “Is it your hair,
Maman
?”

“Aye, Claricia,” she murmured. “I left it as a token for Alex.”

Her daughter grinned, clapping her hands together. “You love him too.”

Elayne smiled, her forefinger pressed to her lips. “
I do, but now we must go outside the tent and just look around, as if we’re admiring the scenery. Don’t wave, or do anything to give Alex away. Can you do that?”

Claricia nodded enthusiastically.

Elayne ushered her outside where, hand in hand, they wandered around the small open area in front of the tent, gazing about. She couldn’t be sure which of the surrounding hills concealed Alex, though she suspected Faol was looking in the right direction, but the certainty that he was nearby sparked hope in her breast.

The glimmer was snuffed out abruptly when she became aware of excited shouts on the other side of the camp. She stood on tiptoe, catching a glimpse of riders carrying gonfalons that
snapped in the stiff breeze atop long poles. She wasn’t close enough to make out whose standard they bore, but the dread that had crept into her innards was confirmed when the friendly soldier ran by their tent. “The Empress!” he shouted excitedly. “Queen Maud has come.”

~~~

FROM HIS VANTAGE POINT IN THE HILLS, Alex heard the large contingent approaching the camp before he saw it. The muddy terrain cut down on the dust, but made the pounding of hooves sound like distant thunder. He recognized the well equipped force outfitted in fine armor as a royal escort, and the tall woman riding stiffly in their midst as Maud.

Excited shouts and frenzied activity
in the camp confirmed it, especially when an unmistakable rider trotted out to greet his wife.

“Geoffrey,” Alex growled.

The bile of resentment rose in his throat. It was well known that the Angevin and his royal wife barely tolerated each other, yet here they were, united in their greed for the throne of the English and control of the Duchy.

He almost pitied them. King Henry had married Maud off at the age of eleven to the Holy Roman Emperor who was eight and twenty at the time. His death left her widowed, and childless. He couldn’t imagine there’d been any hint of love in their relationship.

Crown Prince William’s tragic drowning in the White Ship disaster had forced Henry’s hand. To secure his daughter as his Successor, he’d married her off again, this time to a boy half her age, a hated Angevin to boot. Despite their disdain for each other, they’d already sired two children, Henry and Geoffrey, and it was rumored Maud was
enceinte
again. She looked rather rotund.

Scanning the tents and pavilions, he caught a flash of red that disappeared quickly into a tent at the far end of the camp.

Elayne!

How long would it be before Maud turned her attention to the hostages? Reluctantly, he admitted
that as one man he could do nothing to rescue his beloved and her children. He worried about Romain’s ability to gain an audience with Stephen.

He kept watch for
long hours, and then decided to ride to warn of the danger facing the town now he’d confirmed the enemy’s location. He was probably only about twenty miles from the town, but the journey in the dark would take at least three hours once he traced his path back to the road. At all costs he would return with a force big enough to challenge Geoffrey’s.

AS HE APPROACHED CAEN atop his exhausted horse, Alex worried about being challenged by the guard that was sure to be posted outside the town. A lone rider was always suspect, especially one galloping in at dawn, and he had no means of proving his identity.

He was indeed requested to bring his
steed to a halt by a group of armed men manning a barricade, but was allowed through as soon as he declared his name.

“You’re expected,
milord
Comte
,” one of the soldiers explained, opening the barrier. “Your kinsmen await you at the
Abbaye aux Hommes
. An ostler there will take care of your horse. Looks like you’ve ridden hard.”

His hopes lifted.
Gallien and Laurent were here, with Romain. He gentled his horse the final mile to the magnificent monastery built by William the Conqueror, unable to take his eyes off the equally impressive architecture of the nearby
Abbaye aux Dames
, the convent where he’d been born. The soft pink rays of the early morning sun bathed the holy place that floated on the mist rising from the dew.

The clip clop of his horse’s hooves was the only sound louder than the beating of his heart.

He deliberately averted his gaze from the stone walls of Caen castle, the fortress where his father had been unjustly imprisoned, a place he’d vowed never to set foot in.

Some of the apprehension he’d felt about entering Caen subsided with the realization the
Abbaye aux Dames
was an impressive historic building few could claim as their place of birth. He said a silent prayer of thanks that his mother had found sanctuary there.

H
e dismounted, his legs stiff, his body weary and muddied, glad to hand the reins to a robed ostler.

“
Mes seigneurs
the Earl of Ellesmere and your brothers await you in the Prior’s parlor,” the monk explained, indicating a path that led away from the imposing main door of the
Abbaye
.

Alex followed the path,
the loose stones crunching beneath his boots, looking for another entryway, when Gallien, Laurent and Romain came hurrying out to meet him.

The four embraced heartily.

Alex was immensely relieved his youngest brother had survived his harrowing mission. “I’m proud of you,” he told Laurent.

“Praise
be to the saints you are alive,
mon frère
,” Romain said. “Did you find Elayne?”

Before he had a chance to reply, Gallien interrupted. “
I’m relieved you’ve come to your senses and decided to renounce the oath to Maud. However, you’ve more mud on you than a horse. We’ll get you a bath and something to break your fast.”

Alex waved him off.
“There’s no time to be concerned about that. Maud has arrived at Geoffrey’s encampment. We must gather our forces.”

Laurent put a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Alex, we have already mustered all our men and Gallien’s. They are ready to leave at a moment’s notice. But
Gallien is right. If you are to see the king, you must bathe and eat first. You’ve ridden all night.”

Alex scratched his head, discovering his hair was indeed full of dried mud.
“King?”

“Stephen is here and has
commanded that you attend him as soon as possible.”

A cold certainty took hold of Alex. “Where am I to meet him?”

His three companions answered as one. “In the castle.”

He knew now the
hopeless terror of the wild boar cornered by the hunters. Trapped. No escape. At least the boar would fight to the death. Alex could not refuse to attend the King. It was imperative he do so since he had vital information to impart.

He swallowed his dread. “Lead on to the hot water,” he quipped.

~~~

REEKING OF SOAP
that had a distinctly monastic smell and wearing Laurent’s clothes, Alex walked with his cousin into Caen castle, his heart pounding wildly, his belly in knots. He paused briefly before passing through the final gate.

“I know
it’s hard for you,” Gallien said softly. “This is the first time you’ve ever been here, isn’t it?”

Alex
nodded, his throat constricting.

His cousin put a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Sometimes, the more you know, the better off you are.”

Alex frowned. “Your meaning escapes me.”

Gallien took his arm. “Walk with me, cousin. Do you recall that it was I who told you about your father’s experience with the cat while he was in prison, how the animal’s warmth gave him hope and so he called it
Espérance
?”

“
Oui
. It was during the campaign in Flandres you told me.”

“I was surprised you hadn’t known about that and how the mewling of a cat later helped my father and
oncle
Caedmon find him in the
oubliette
.”

Jealous i
ndignation touched its cold fingers to the back of Alex’s neck, but Gallien carried on. “But then I realized I knew all these things because my father and
oncle
Caedmon shared them with me, whereas your father wanted to spare you the horrific details of his imprisonment.”

Guilt replaced indignation. Alex had made it hard for his father to make up for the time they’d lost. Had
his aloofness also rendered it impossible for his father to speak of his incarceration?

Gallien put an arm around his shoulder. “Did you know, for example, your father was brought here bound to a horse and blindfolded, wearing only a penitent’s robe?”

Alex wanted to close his eyes, to shut out the brutal picture, but his silver haired cousin was evidently determined to make him face his demons. He looked back down the cobbled path they had walked, conjuring an image of his father’s arrival in Caen. Romain and Laurent had paused a little way behind them, watching.

My brothers already know of this, and I’m just learning
of it now.

“He probably didn’t know where he was
,” he rasped.

“
Non
, he didn’t. Nor did he have any idea where your mother was, or even if she was still alive.”

Alex’s legs trembled as the intense fear and uncertainty his father must have felt
in the very spot where he now stood kicked him in the gut.

“I’d better stop now, or King Stephen will think my noble cousin is an ashen-faced
invalid. However, before we leave here, we’re going to seek out the
oubliette
.”

~~~

IN THE DAY AND A HALF since Maud’s arrival, Elayne had worn a noticeable path in the rug covering the dirt floor of their tent.

They’d been left alone for now,
other than being brought food and drink, and water for washing. More pressing matters evidently occupied Maud and Geoffrey’s attention. How long would that last? Sooner or later, they would send for the royal hostages, and their subterfuge would be discovered. There was no escape from the camp, short of walking away. She could only hope to beg mercy from the reputedly ruthless former Empress.

She silently cursed again her father-by-marriage who had deliberately and knowingly put their lives at risk. But if they hadn’t been sent to Normandie she would never have met Alex.

She folded her arms across her belly, filled with a despairing longing. What if she’d conceived a child? If she survived Maud’s wrath, what hope for another bastard, a babe born of an adulterous union?

She’d be cast out, deemed unsuited to tend
ing royal children.

“Please stop pacing,
Maman
,” Henry begged in a whisper, whittling a piece of wood with his father’s dagger. “You’re upsetting Claricia. Sing for us instead.”

If she sang, she would drown in a puddle of tears. “I cannot, Henry.”

Faol came to his feet unexpectedly and loped to the open tent flap, looking out, growling.

The friendly soldier appeared with two other guards. “Their Majesties request the presence of Prince Henry and Princess Claricia,” he announced with a smile.

She reached for her
playd
, but he shook his head. “
Non
, just the children. They did not ask for you.”

Claricia cast a panicked glance at her. Henry came to his feet stiffly.
She brushed dirt off her son’s leggings and straightened her daughter’s hair. “Be brave,” she whispered, struggling to ignore the adder coiled around her bowels. “I am with you in my heart.
May you indeed have the strength of the universe, and the strength of the sun, my angels.
”

Henry smiled
bravely, gripped the hilt of his dagger, took his sister’s trembling hand and walked out of the tent in the company of the soldiers.