“
I would not send an invitation to Tedric to find us,” Conan replied testily.
“
You are too far from the keep for him to see. And he has not followed. You are assumed well on your way home.”
“
We could have stayed on the road,” Conan grumbled.
The two men that huddled over a pyramid of dry sticks backed away as the fire took light. Mallory nodded his approval and moved closer, as did others. More wood was tossed on and the fire soon blazed. Conan’s temperament was eased considerably by the welcome warmth.
“
We do not protect Cordell as i
n years past,” William said.
“
T
edric’s guard does that. For now we only wait.”
“
That he allows you in the wood at all surprises me,” Conan said.
William shrugged.
“
He is not much of a warrior. Neither is he a huntsman and he takes all the game we bring. Even Sir Tedric gets hungry.”
“
Tell me then, how well is the town kept? Could a decent army take it?”
“
From the road it would be difficult, but with a force to draw out the guard and another force to come from the wood, ‘twould be a simple matter.”
“
It would be the finest pleasure to take Tedric now, before another day passes,” Conan returned.
“
Why do you tarry?”
“
Of our comrades on the Crusade, four were sons of Theodoric. He still supports Tedric, as word has it. If my move is made too hastily, I may have a family war to contend with. I have no desire to meet men in battle whom I stood beside in months past.” He looked into the fire and spoke solemnly.
“
And I’ve no desire to see Chandra harmed.”
“
Or the child,” William put in.
Conan’s eyes darted to William.
“
There is a child?” he asked hesitantly.
“
She did not tell you?” William asked.
“
There was little time. She warned me of Tedric’s inten
tion, and she pleaded for her husband’s life. Now I see her reasons more clearly.”
“
Nay, Conan, I think not
--
”
Conan threw a twi
g into the fire and muttered,
“
Twill be difficult to coddle Tedric’s child
--
”
“
Conan,” William said, cutting him off,
“
the child is not small and fair as Sir Tedric is. His eyes are blue, but not like his mother’s, and the hair just sprouting forth is dark. His skin is not the pale white of Sir Tedric and Lady Chandra. He is a sturdy child and
--
”
Conan came to a slow realization and suddenly asked,
“
When was the child born?”
William laughed outright.
“
I think I could tell you when he was conceived.”
“
And yet he lives?”
“
Tedric ignores his son. My daughter cares for the child and keeps him well away from Tedric.”
“
But if the child looks so much like another
--
”
“
Chandra has prepared for the day that Wynne will have to steal him away. Yea, should Tedric become suspicious or hasten into battle, the lad will be taken away.”
“
How will you get them out?” Conan asked uneasily.
William smiled.
“
I can steal away anyone from this village, Conan, there is no problem. It is Chandra I cannot rescue. I leave her to you.”
Chapter 21
The journey to the Holy Land had taken many months, with delays of many varieties, from political to elemental, slowing them. The return voyage had taken only one month.
Sir Conan had departed England with twenty men and was fortunate to be returning with ten. Mallory and Thurwell were with him still, by the grace of God. As these bedraggled remains of Richard’s army rode toward Anselm, they noted the changed look of the land. Those they passed wore a poor look and appeared downtrodden. Some would raise a hand to the returning Crusaders, but there was no cheering or gay welcome.
During the war in the east, Conan had lived his life day by day, not stopping to consider the effects the war was having on the land at home. With so many good men away, the crops were less abundant and the protection against thieves lacking. Cattle seemed sparser, piles of hay smaller and serfs thinner. In Conan’s absence, Alaric’s land had suffered greatly from yielding money, goods and men to the king’s cause.
The guard recognized the returning troop, though Conan did not have his falcon riding his shoulder. Hundreds of horses had been taken and only a piddling few returned. That Mars did not survive the Crusade was no great surprise. The banner, tattered and worn, and the Cross of Christ on the chest of every knight brought the gates open and the bridge crashing down.
Alaric stood in the courtyard in wait. He looked more than three years older. Conan dismounted and walked slowly toward his father, hoping for the old man’s sake that he would not notice the limp. But Alaric’s eyes went to the injured leg
a
t once and rose again to Conan’s face. The impact of it did not register on Alaric’s face: the old lord was made of stronger stuff. Even in his declining years he was capable of bearing the weight of this: that his son had been maimed.
Conan bowed before his father. He rose slowly to find Alaric’s arms opened to him. He embraced his father grate
fully, and the two stood in this closeness for a few moments before breaking apart. The walking staff that had become Alaric’s constant companion had fallen to the ground, and when Conan released his father, Alaric faltered slightly, finding that he needed the cane more than he would admit. With a sigh, Conan bent to retrieve it.
Alaric indicated Conan’s injured leg with his eyes.
“
We may move a bit more slowly, but we will walk together again,” he said warmly. Then with a sigh and a scratchy voice he added,
“
There were days that I feared we would not.”
“
They found success in slowing me, but they could not finish me,” Conan replied, proud that he had survived the heathen sword.
“
When word came to England that the great James of Avesnes fell at Arsuf, my fear for your life heightened.”
“
Aye, he fell, but not alone. He took fifteen Saracens with him.”
“
The leg,” Alaric asked.
“
How long has it been thus?”
“
Months,” Conan replied.
“
Since Acre. Twould mend, given a chance. But there was no rest until now. Now it will mend.”
“
Your victory?”
“
Victory? Do they call it a victory here? I think it would better be called an escape
--
escape with some measure of dignity.”
“
But there is a treaty with Saladin
...
”
“
Yea, my lord, a treaty.” Conan laughed ruefully.
“
The two most honorable warriors in all the world formed a treaty. You would have been greatly amused by their strange friend
ship. While their armies fought, they exchanged expensive gifts. Saladin sent Richard fruit when he was ill, then killed the hostages. Richard wrote letters to Saladin
--
then attacked one of his cities.
“
When we finally reached the Holy City, we had lost many good men, our horses were few, and food was lower than ever. The city was walled and well stocked with warriors.
There was no possible way to conquer it; no way to do battle and have one man left to return to England. That was when the treaty was formed and Saladin promised to let pilgrims of the Cross enter the city for the sake of our Christ. And now that we are gone, will he honor the treaty? Will the pilgrims of the Cross be treated with respect, or killed?
“
I would not fault Richard if there was no choice, and if Saladin does honor his word, we have made great progress in our Crusade. But I do not feel victory.”
“
And was it all for naught?”
“
Time will tell that, Father. When I have settled matters here, we will see if the price of fighting in Richard’s war has broken my purse or lined it with worth. Time will tell.”
By this time, most of the other men had dismounted and pages were taking their horses to the Anselm stables. Mallory and Thurwell moved toward Alaric and were welcomed as warmly as Conan had been. It was as if three sons had returned to Anselm instead of just one. Alaric’s moist and troubled eyes moved over them.
“
Come into the hall,” he bade them.
“
Greet your mother and ease her mind. She has been upset since the day you left us. Then we will talk.”
Alaric turned and, with slow steps, leaning heavily on the staff for support, led the way into the hall. Inside was Udele, sitting in her chair, a royal and straight-backed throne carved from oak. Her hands, older now, gripped the arms of the chair in fearful anticipation. Lines about her eyes and mouth showed the effects of the last two and a half years. Her eyes opened wide as Conan came into the room.
She stared at him for a moment and, rising shakily, moved to meet him, embracing him fondly and placing kisses on his cheeks. The beard, just growing back, partially concealed the scar that lined one cheek, but Udele found it and touched it gingerly, tears running down her cheeks.
“
We have waited,” she said, her voice breaking.
“
I could not send word,” Conan replied, setting her from him. His mother’s tears bit at him. She had been angry when he left, never wishing him success in battle. He could not warm to her loving welcome now.
“
But why have you taken so long to come?” she asked, the tears gone and a hint of anger in her voice.
“
I came as quickly as I could. Here, we could use food and
d
rink, and then we will talk.” He looked to Alaric.
“
I have heard the fate of Phalen. I know what Tedric has done in my absence.”
“
Then you know that I have done nothing,” Alaric re
turned somberly.
“
It is the course I would have had you take,” Conan said, his jaw tensing and the blue of his eyes lightening almost to the silver of a spear.
“
It is my battle. I will settle with Tedric. ‘Tis a thing I should have done years ago. ‘Twould have found us the same end, for naught but hate binds you and Theodoric now.”
“
Aye, hatred binds us to a fief war and we shall not, in our aging years, sit in our halls and hear of the battles our sons fight. He has done what I would have done. He supports his son. But he does not know that Tedric is not worthy of his loyalty.”
“
He has other sons,” Conan advised, the cold light in his eyes glittering.
“
They may also choose to support their brother, but they will bring news to Theodoric of our friendship in battle.”
“
Blood in the vein is more binding.”
“
Tis fair,” Conan said.
“
Tedric will have need of it.” He closed his eyes and returned a calmer gaze to his father.
“
What I feel for Theodoric notwithstanding, Phalen is mine, and I will cut down any man who stands in my path. By the rood, I have paid a fair price for that holding. I did lay to rest three unborn children and a wife!”
“
My lord,” Mallory interrupted, unable to contain himself a moment longer.
“
My lady, Edythe
--
”
“
Bring ale to these men,” Alaric barked to a nearby servant.
“
And have trenchers of meat brought. Gravy and bread and whatever can be found. We would have planned a feast could your time of arrival been known.” He turned his saddened eyes to Mallory.
“
Take up a cup, my son,” he invited haltingly.
“
And as you drink, know that you have a place in my hall for as long as you wish.”
Tankards were passed all around, and in the commotion of servants running among the men, Alaric found his chair and sat heavily. Mallory watched the aging lord in confusion. Neither drank.
“
Edythe?” he questioned anxiously.
Alaric looked at Mallory and, with a finger slightly bent from age, beckoned the younger man closer.
“
‘Tis hard news
t
o bear you. Edythe is gone. She disappeared from Anselm not long after Conan left us. I sent searchers to travel through England and France to find her, but there was never a trace. We tried looking on departing vessels, thinking she might have tried to follow you, but we could find no sign that she ventured even that far. I do not believe she is alive.”
“
Nay,” Mallory argued.
“
Nay, this is not true.”
Alaric shook his head in confusion.
“
No one saw her pass. We do not know how she left or why. She suffered the expected sadness with your leaving and Conan’s, but she was not disheartened. She did not take her own horse, a mount she favored
--
”
“
But I have letters from Edythe!”
Alaric looked up in surprise.
“
Letters? When?”
“
One that Conan brought when he joined us, one later. In both she urged me never to turn my head with worry, that she was well. She assured me she was safe.”
The hopeful expression on Alaric’s face turned sad again.
“
The second letter must have been written before she left this keep and the messenger slow
--
”
“
Almost a year? Nay, my lord, that cannot be. Edythe is alive
--
and I will find her. Where were you when she left this hall?”
“
I had ridden to Stoddard with Galen. When I returned, my wife was frantic with the disappearance. Lady Udele had sent riders in search of our daughter and called me home from Stoddard.”
Mallory’s fist hit the lord’s table in frustration.
“
The letter!” he stormed.
“
Nay, the messenger was not slow! That could not be. Not so long! She was trying to tell me
--
”
“
You have the letter?”
“
Nay. But she urged me to keep faith that there was nothing that could keep her from waiting upon my return. My lord, she could not have written that while she was still here with you. Had she done so, she would have waited to send it with the messenger that brought Conan’s letters from you.”
“
She would not have flown from me with no word,” Alaric said.
“
And if she is alive, my men would have found her!”
“
She is not dead!” Mallory shouted, his hand finding the hilt of his sword, a habit a knight develops whenever he feels threatened.
“
Her letter came to me after the second Christ
mas I was without her.”
“
The letter is a mystery. Edythe was not shallow-witted, and she would not have spent what little she had to buy a courier when my letters to Conan went with some regularity. But what purpose in her leaving when all she needed was provided here?”
Mallory’s jaw twitched, for those same questions were coming into his mind.
“
More to the point, my lord: what drove her from Anselm?”
“
I share your burden,” Alaric said more calmly.
“
I have, for more than two years, tried to reason her leaving and I cannot find her
--
alive or dead.”
Through this discussion, Udele’s face had drained of color as she listened intently. The letter puzzled her as much as Alaric. A slow courier was the only answer
--
she hoped.
“
Edythe must have written the letter after leaving you,” Mallory said.
“
You have letters here that were sent by me?”
“
Aye, I have saved them to return to you.”
“
I thought it strange that she did not mention
--
when, exactly, did she leave Anselm?”