ASilverMirror (37 page)

“If there is no danger to Papa, I do not care what Hamo and
his friends are doing. I am only curious.”

There was no direct danger to Norfolk, Alphonse knew, but
indirectly, if the Marcher lords’ plot was successful… Impossible, he thought,
and said, “What you said about the gathering of troops is true, but what these
idiots plan to do is free Prince Edward.”

“Idiot is as idiot does,” Barbara said coldly. “But you are
an idiot, not I, if you think you can convince me that Hamo is idiot enough to
attack Dover, where Edward is now being held.”

“He is not at Dover!” Alphonse snarled, loving and hating
his Barbe. Most women could have been diverted by generalities at this point in
the conversation, but not Barbe, who grasped immediately at practical matters.
He would have to tell her what he had learned.

“Since I could not ask questions without making Sir Hamo and
Tybetot suspicious and silencing them completely,” he went on, “I could not
learn everything, but it seems that Leicester is moving the prince to
Wallingford.”

“Wallingford Keep? To attack that is almost as hopeless as a
march on Dover.”

“Perhaps not. From what I have heard from Gloucester and
others, the southeast is Leicester’s. All who supported the king in that part
of the country were imprisoned or are in exile, their lands in the charge of
Leicester or an ally. So, for Hamo and his friends to march an army, or even a
large troop of men, across to Dover would be well-nigh impossible. But Hamo and
Tybetot mentioned a keep called Marlborough, not more than a day’s ride from
Wallingford, that is ruled by a castellan loyal to Robert Walerand—”

“Walerand is King Henry’s man,” Barbara murmured. “He still
holds Bristol Castle in Henry’s name. Leicester has not wasted his strength
trying to attack Bristol or Marlborough, hoping such isolated royal
strongpoints will come to terms without battle.” She frowned. “But Walerand is
no wild boy. If he is behind this plan, it must be more possible than it
appears to me.” She sighed and lay back again, unconsciously feeling for and
taking Alphonse’s hand. “I do not know what I feel. It was terrible to see
Edward caged, but if he is freed, he
will
begin the war again.”

Alphonse’s hand lay unresponsive in hers. “I hope to God
this Walerand will stop the plan,” he said. “They must not try to free Edward.”

Barbara turned eagerly to him, raising his hand, clasped in
hers, to her breast. She had been startled by the way his hand lay limp in
hers. Now she thought it might be owing to his distress over the hopelessness
of the Royalist cause.

“Do you think all chance of opposing Leicester is ended?”
she asked. “When we are in France again, will you try to convince Uncle Hugh of
that? If—”

“I know nothing of Leicester’s chance of holding his power.”
Alphonse pulled his hand free and clenched it as he sat up. “What I do know is
that an attack on the prince’s prison—no matter where—will provide his enemies
with the best excuse in the world to kill Edward. Who could ever say whether he
was killed trying to escape or was struck down by his own friends by mistake?”

“No!”

“You can cry out ‘no’ and I know that Leicester is an
honorable man and would not give such an order in advance. Still, Leicester is
not likely to be in Wallingford Keep to order or forbid, and in the heat and
confusion of an attack lesser men might seize an opportunity. I fear the
temptation to be rid of Edward, the one man who must be the hope and
inspiration for all resistance, will be too great.”

Barbara pushed herself up against the headboard. “I do not
want the war to begin again, but neither do I want peace at the price of
Edward’s life. What will you do, Alphonse?”

“What can I do?” He stared at her and shook his head. “Do
not you dare, Barbe! Do not you dare try to get word of this to your father, or
Gloucester, or anyone. You promised not to do anything if your father was not
directly threatened. Le Strange and Tybetot trusted me, and I listened to their
plans apurpose.”

“To save your honor you will let the prince die?” Barbara
whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

Alphonse shook his head. “Thank God my decision does not
need to rest on that point. Do you not see that more ill could come from
Leicester knowing in advance of this attempt than of it simply happening?
Edward has some freedom now, I have heard. If word of an attempt to free him
comes, they will lock him up, perhaps in chains. You saw what he was like when
we arrived in Canterbury. He might eat himself up and die of sickness, or he
might become so twisted with hate… Barbe, think of that will of his all turned
to hate and deception and then let loose on the realm.”

“But that is the whole reason behind what Leicester has
done,” she said faintly. “To ensure that no king’s weakness or wickedness
should be visited on his country.”

“Then it is better that Edward die.” Alphonse stared
straight ahead to where coals glowed in the small hearth. “Because I know, and
you know too, if you would let yourself know it, that there is no one strong
enough to hold together Leicester’s government after he dies. Then if Edward is
alive, he would be loosed.”

Barbara shuddered. “I see that door is closed,” she said.
“But you must at least point out to Hamo and Tybetot the danger that Edward’s
current gaoler might be less scrupulous than Henry de Montfort. They may not
have seen the danger of a deliberate ‘accident’ during an attack. Hamo is not a
hothead. Perhaps you can convince him that the attempt to free him will do
Edward harm. You are known to be the prince’s friend. Will Hamo not believe you
have his interests at heart?”

Alphonse sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I cannot
seem to try to sow discord among Hamo’s party. If I speak at all, it must be
openly, to the leader—Walerand, I suppose. But that will mean losing all chance
of simply slipping away when we arrive in Bristol and finding a ship. Once I
speak out against the plan to free Edward, I will become an ‘enemy’—unless they
do give up the idea.”

“Then we are going to Bristol, not Marlborough?” Barbara
asked.

“Yes, to Bristol, after we meet another party somewhere near
Bath. Walerand is mustering the men in Bristol. When all are gathered, they will
make night marches to Marlborough in small troops, enter Marlborough secretly,
and launch the attack on Wallingford from there.”

“We will be safe in Bristol,” Barbara said, then looked
concerned and asked, “Do you have some pressing duties in France?” And when
Alphonse shook his head, she went on, “Robert Walerand would never order harm
done to you because you are Edward’s friend, and I have my own value as
Norfolk’s daughter. The worst Walerand will do is hold us as we were held in
Dover. I know you hated it, but—”

“Goose,” Alphonse said softly, reaching for her and pulling
her close, “I would not have minded at all if I could have lain abed with you
each night in Dover as I will in Bristol.”

She let him kiss her, the corners of her wide mouth lifting
as she remembered his various attempts to get her alone when they were in
Dover. Then she laughed and pushed him away. “Go mend the fire and bank it for
the night.” She laughed again as he groaned but threw off the covers and went
to the hearth. Her eyes rested on him while he added small logs and then larger
ones, laid in a pattern that would collapse slowly, keeping the embers at its
heart glowing throughout the night, but she did not really watch what he was
doing.

“I do not think Walerand will keep us long in any case,” she
said as he turned to come back to bed. “If he listens to you, he will put us on
the first ship for France—or Spain—as soon as possible to be rid of us and be
sure we will speak to no one in England for some time. And even if he does not listen,
would not sending us overseas as soon as the attempt to rescue Edward is
launched be a good way to ensure our silence during the dangerous time and yet
not enrage us?”

“It would,” he agreed, innocent as an angel until he slid
under the covers and threw himself suddenly atop her, pressing his chilled body
to her warm one.

Barbara struggled and protested, but strong though she was
for a woman, she was at a total disadvantage, crushed under her husband’s
considerable weight. He laughed at her gasps and complaints, arguing that she
must pay her share for their future comfort, and slipping bit by bit from
warming himself to warming her with caresses.

They did not discuss the matter again that night, and
Alphonse had joined the men below before Barbara woke. By the time she came
down to break her fast with them, an unmistakable camaraderie was flowing from
Hamo and Tybetot toward her husband. Barbara was not in the least surprised
when Alphonse told her he had agreed to extend his parole against leaving the
company until after he had spoken to Robert Walerand in Bristol.

Some hours later, on the hills above the river between Bath
and Bristol, Barbara was surprised and a little frightened when she saw the man
Sir Hamo and Tybetot had come to meet. Without thought her hand tightened on
Frivole’s rein, and the mare obediently backed. Bevis and Lewin closed in front
of her, assuming from the action that Barbara was afraid to be seen. That was
not true, certainly she had no personal fear of Roger Leybourne, Prince
Edward’s former steward and friend. In fact, she liked what she knew of him and
felt he had been a stabilizing influence on the wild prince in the past. But
she also recalled the bitter quarrel between the prince and the man who had so
long been his close friend and principal servant. She was aware that the
quarrel had been patched over, but with how much sincerity on Leybourne’s side?

Barbara thought the prince had been mostly in the wrong, had
known it, and had been relieved to come to terms with his old friend. But
Leybourne? Not only had he been persecuted and deprived of his lands and honors
by the king, but hardly had partial and grudging amends been made when
Leicester had won the battle of Lewes and canceled all the king’s favors. Might
not Leybourne cherish a secret anger against the prince and king who had cost
him so much?

Barbara had no time to communicate her fears to her husband,
however. Having greeted Hamo and Tybetot and had Alphonse drawn to his notice,
Leybourne seized on Alphonse with cries of joy and surprise and rode beside
him, talking hard, all the way from the meeting place to Bristol. Barbara
followed inconspicuously farther back, thinking it unpolitic to press forward
and remind Leybourne that Alphonse had married into Leicester’s party before
her husband had a chance to state his case. Near Bristol, she was startled by
Tybetot and Hamo, who closed in on her from either side, suddenly displaying a
surprising eagerness to enjoy her company and conversation. Barbara did not
know whether to laugh at their innocence or be annoyed that they thought her
stupid enough to be deceived.

She knew they could not suspect her of trying to flee.
Bristol Keep blocked off the peninsula on which Bristol town had been built
from the surrounding countryside. One had to pass the keep to get to the port,
so escape was impossible. And Alphonse had told them he intended to enter
Bristol Keep to talk to Walerand and take his chances with what followed. So
what Hamo and Tybetot intended must be to keep her and Alphonse apart.

Barbara let them believe her ignorant of their purpose. She
rode along with them, talking and laughing and fretting Frivole so that her
mare danced forward and had to be checked. But each time it happened, Barbara
came closer to her husband. And each time, she turned in the saddle and called
to her escort to catch up.

Perhaps they had never intended to separate her from
Alphonse. Perhaps they did not realize what she was doing or could not think of
a way to stop her without creating a disturbance that would draw her husband’s
attention. But when they came to the drawbridge Barbara felt it was time to
eliminate any chance that she could be held hostage in an attempt to force
Alphonse into an action he did not approve. Right in the middle of a sentence,
she kicked Frivole so that the mare pushed boldly between two men-at-arms.

Shouts of surprise followed her, but it was too late for
Hamo’s men to make any move that was not an open threat or challenge. Frivole
was already on Dadais’s heels and Alphonse had turned around to stare.
Leybourne also turned and glared at Hamo and Tybetot while Barbara did her best
to look confused and anxious, as if she did not understand what had happened.

Riding alongside Alphonse gave her no chance to exchange a
private word with him, however. Leybourne continued to talk eagerly about the
prince until they came to the outer gate where they were greeted with an urgent
request to go up to the keep at once. Dinner was being held for them, the
captain said, and it was already near to nones. No one needed to be reminded of
that. Barbara had been surprised when they had not stopped to eat after meeting
Leybourne and was by now so hungry that she was glad rather than sorry it would
arouse too much suspicion for her to try to draw Alphonse aside. She made no
excuse about needing to change her dress, but gave Clotilde her cloak and
gloves and followed the men into the hall. There they all disarmed together,
washed in the basins held by servants, and went to table.

Barbara was considerably shocked when, as soon as general
greetings and urgent news were passed, Robert Walerand said, “Well, Sieur
Alphonse, you have heard from Leybourne what we intend to do. Will you lend us
the strength of your arm in breaking our prince out of his prison?”

“No,” Alphonse replied. “And it is not because I do not wish
to see the prince freed. Show me a way to spirit him free without anyone’s
knowledge or to settle around him a few men who will provide him with weapons
and defend his back while our army fights its way to him, and I will be glad to
provide any help I can. For the plan I have heard—no. You cannot succeed. You
can only endanger Edward.”