Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) (24 page)

“Look for
the keys to the cell. They often hang on the wall.” Geoffrey paused. “’Tis
where Berold kept them. Across from my prison. Always within sight. Never
within reach.”

Merryn’s
stomach roiled at the thought. She still found it hard to believe the earl had
locked her husband away from the world for so many years. To hear the way out
of the cell faced him was almost more than she could bear.

She lifted
the lantern to the stone wall across from the cells and searched for the key.

“Here!” she
cried, spying a hook. But no keys hung from it. She believed Symond had taken them
for spite.

Merryn
returned to Geoffrey. Her hand caressed his cheek. “They are not here. I shall
go find help to free you.” She paused, wanting to make light of the horrible
situation. “And this time you better still be here when I return.”

Her husband’s
jaw dropped in disbelief—then he roared with laughter. “Christ in Heaven,
Merryn. Only you would dare to say such a thing to me.” He caught her hands in
his and pressed a kiss upon her knuckles. “I will always be here for you, my
love. Always.”

She nodded
and hurried from the dungeons, not wanting him to see the tears threatening to
spill. She hated leaving him in darkness, but she needed the light she had
brought to return above stairs. She hustled up the long flight and allowed the
anger at Symond to build until it washed over her, ready to spill out. If he
had been waiting upstairs, she knew in her heart that she would have killed him
on the spot without hesitation.

As she
reached the top, she found Ancel lurking about, a worried look upon his face.

“Where were
you, Mother?”

Merryn set
down the lantern and drew the boy to her in a tight embrace, kissing the top of
his head. “I found your father, Ancel. But I must go for help.”

Eagerness
sprang to his face. “I can help!”

She smoothed
his hair. “Not now, little love. Go find Alys and play with her.”

Merryn
hurried down the hallway and left the keep. She saw Raynor striding across the
bailey. Hugh accompanied him.

“I found
him,” she called out, rushing toward them. She briefly explained, watching both
men’s anger rise as she spoke.

“I shall
kill Symond Benedict,” Raynor ground out.

“You might
want to leave that for Geoffrey. I believe he will take great pleasure in doing
so. But go. Find Gilbert. We need several men to break through the bars. And
Geoffrey will want to ride out as soon as he’s freed, so have Gilbert ready the
men, as well.”

Hugh nodded
grimly. “I had come to see how you fared after the king’s visit. I cannot
believe this ghastly business.” He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I
shall return to Wellbury immediately and ready a hundred men. We shall ride
with Geoffrey’s men in a show of support.”

“Thank
you,” she told her brother. “That would mean a great deal to him.” To Raynor,
she said, “Bring several torches when you come.”

Both Hugh
and Raynor took off. Merryn went to the kitchens and grabbed a hunk of cheese,
along with some bread and two chicken legs. She set them on a tray and thought
to bring a pitcher of ale, too. She knew it had been many hours since Geoffrey
ate or drank anything. He would need his strength to go after Symond.

Merryn
reached the entrance to the dungeons. It did not surprise her to see her son
awaited her. She balanced the tray against her waist as he lifted the lantern. Ancel
silently fell into step with her as they began to descend the long flight of
stone stairs to the dungeon. She decided not to hide anything from the boy. He
must know what wickedness had occurred and that his father would seek justice.

They
reached Geoffrey. Ancel set the lantern down at the edge of the bars. Merryn
watched Geoffrey give his son an encouraging smile.

“Why are
you down here, Father?”

“Because a
very bad man locked me in a cell and took the key.”

“Sir
Symond?”

“Yes.”

Ancel
thought about that. “He wasn’t helping you last night? I saw you with him,
staggering around.”

Geoffrey
drew in a long breath and then expelled it. “Nay, son. He attacked me as I left
a chamber. I never saw him. He knocked me unconscious. Then brought me here.”

“But he’s a
knight!” Ancel cried. “He broke his word of honor.”

Merryn’s
heart hurt. Ancel was so young to learn of such evil in the world. But mayhap
he would grow wiser at a young age, having been exposed to its existence.

“’Tis true.
Though most knights are good men and strive to honor their oath all the days of
their service, some allow their greed to rise above the good they are pledged
to do. Symond Benedict is one such man. He wanted something that was not his
and decided he would do whatever it took to possess it.”

“Kinwick?”
the boy asked.

“Aye. He
thought if I were gone, then the king would give him the land and woman he
coveted.”

“He would
have been my father,” Ancel whispered.

Geoffrey
placed his hands through the bars. They came to rest upon Ancel’s shoulders.
“Nay. You are
my
son. You will always be my son. And I shall love you
till I am an old man and your own sons run about me, laughing and playing.”

Merryn
wiped a tear from her eye at the thought. She sent a prayer up to the Heavenly
Father, thanking him that she’d found Geoffrey and that they would be able to
grow old together.

“I wasn’t
sure if I wanted you to come back,” Ancel admitted.

Geoffrey
squeezed the boy’s shoulders gently. “I know. You have been the man of Kinwick
and your mother’s protector. ‘Tis hard to take on that responsibility at your
young age, and ‘tis even harder when you find it snatched from you.”

“I’m sorry,
Father,” Ancel said. He squared his shoulders. “And I will help free you,” he
declared.

“We can use
all the help we can get,” Gilbert called out.

Merryn
turned and saw a crew of Kinwick men arriving, armed with torches and poleaxes
in hand.

“Move away,
lad,” Gilbert commanded. “We shall lay our axes to this iron and have your
father out in no time.”

“Should you
hold fire to it first?” Geoffrey asked. “To weaken it?”

“We can,”
Raynor said. “Step back, Geoffrey.”

“Let me
give him something to eat first,” Merryn said, her womanly instincts taking
over. She passed him the food and drink through the bars. “You will need your
strength for when we leave Kinwick.”

“
We?
”

She
grinned. “You do not think I would remain behind?”

He returned
the smile. “I never doubted it.” He retreated to the rear of the cell and
attacked the food with enthusiasm.

Several men
stepped up and held flames to the iron for some minutes before they took their
poleaxes to task. The pounding continued for some time. Even Ancel tried to
help, slamming his wooden sword into the bars, yelling for them to come down.

“Careful,
you don’t want it to break,” Merryn warned him.

Ancel
backed away and continued to watch the men work. Geoffrey finished his meal and
moved back to the front of the cell. Merryn went to stand beside him, the bars
separating their bodies, but their fingers entwined in unity.

Finally,
some of the iron began to give way. After much labor, enough bars were removed
for Geoffrey to squeeze through the opening. She fell into his arms, smothering
him with kisses.

“Enough,”
he told her, and she knew it was only because so many of his men were present.
“We must make ready to leave. Where was the royal progress heading next?”

“To the
north of us. Lord Southwark’s estate,” Raynor told him.

“We can
reach it in less than three hours’ time, my lord,” Gilbert said. “The men are
ready when you are.”

“Then fetch
my armor. We leave immediately.”

“I have a
few things to pack,” she said. Her eyes narrowed. “Do not leave me behind,” she
warned.

Geoffrey
gave her a swift kiss. “We shall never be parted again. You shall tire of me
following you about like a puppy.”

Merryn
kissed him back. “I shall never tire of that, my lord,” she said pertly.

She
returned to the solar and packed a quick bag. She would prefer Geoffrey wash
the dust of the road from himself and put on new clothing before speaking to
the king. She doubted that would occur, but it never hurt to be prepared. She
also slipped in a change of clothes for herself and a brush.

Ancel
appeared in the doorway as she picked up the bag.

“I want to
come, Mother. I need to help Father.”

She knelt
before him. “I know, my precious. But we are riding long and hard. You are not
that skilled a rider just yet. And your father would protect you from what will
occur at Lord Southwark’s.”

His eyes
grew round. “Will Father kill Sir Symond?”

Merryn
shrugged. “That I do not know. We will speak to the king. He will decide what is
to occur since it involves one of his royal guardsmen.” She kissed both his
cheeks. “Look after Alys. Be my good boy.”

“I will,”
he promised.

Ancel
followed her all the way to the stables, where her saddled horse awaited her.
Geoffrey himself tied her bag to the horn and helped her mount Destiny before
he swung up onto Mystery’s back. Ancel tugged on his father’s leg.

“Come
back,” the boy said.

Geoffrey
nodded solemnly. “I will. Till then, you are in charge of Kinwick. Be nice to
Alys. We shall see you soon.”

With that,
they turned their horses and left the inner bailey, riding to the outer one and
then through the gates. Hugh’s retainers awaited them, the Mantel banner flying
in the breeze. The de Montfort banner joined it, and over two hundred rode from
Kinwick.

They made
swift time and arrived at Lord Southwick’s estate at dusk.

“What
business have you here?” called the gatekeeper from his tower watch.

“I am
Geoffrey de Montfort, and my men are accompanied by my brother-in-law Hugh
Mantel’s troops.”

“I know the
colors, my lord. You have been a visitor here before. But the king is being
entertained.”

“I have a great
need to see the king.”

“Let him
in,” a voice called.

The
gatekeeper looked to it. “Aye, Sir Alard.” He motioned to a man hidden from view,
and the gates began to widen slowly.

Merryn
allowed Destiny to follow Mystery into Southwick. Sir Alard greeted them.

“I am
surprised to see you again so soon, my lady. My lord,” the knight said to them.

“We have
business with the king that cannot wait,” Geoffrey told him.

“His
majesty is supping now in the Great Hall. I assume ‘tis a private matter you
wish to discuss with him?”

“Aye.”

“Then if
you and Lady Merryn will come with me, I shall escort you to the solar and send
word to the king that you await his presence.”

“May my
brother and cousin accompany us?” Merryn asked.

The knight
nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”

The party
of four followed the knight all the way to the keep. They left their horses and
hurried up the stairs to enter the castle. Sir Alard found a serving wench and
ordered her to escort them to the solar while he went to deliver their message
in person.

“Be
patient,” he advised before he departed. “The king is not in the best frame of
mind today.”

Merryn’s stomach
twisted. She had witnessed the swing of the pendulum regarding Edward’s
shifting temperament. She hoped he would happy to learn they were here, but she
knew to anticipate the worst.

They made
their way upstairs, where the serving maid offered them seats, which they took,
and wine, from which they abstained. Merryn knew the men wanted to keep their
wits about them.

The door
slammed back against the wall, startling her. She watched the king of England
enter, a sour look upon his face.

Following
closely on his heels was Sir Symond Benedict.

Geoffrey
rose to his feet but restrained himself from going for Symond Benedict’s
throat. He deliberately rooted himself to the spot upon which he stood, his
hands clenched in fists by his side. Merryn came to her feet and slipped a hand
through the crook of his arm. Her touch calmed him.

But his ire
rose at the smirk on Benedict’s face.

Four more
royal guardsmen entered the room behind Benedict and fanned out. Edward glanced
at the group gathered in the solar and threw himself into an empty chair. The
king looked older than he had at Kinwick. Apparently, the visit at Southwark
had not gone well.

“What do
you want?” he demanded surly, his foot tapping impatiently.

“Sire, I
have a grievous issue to speak to you of.” Geoffrey indicated the knights
crowded into the solar. “’Tis a private matter that you will wish to hear
alone.”

“So be it,”
the king muttered grumpily. He waved a hand in front of him. “Away. To the
hall.”

The knights
lost their defensive stance and filed out of the chamber.

“You may
want this one to remain.” Geoffrey pointed at Benedict, the last guardsmen in
line.

Edward
frowned. “The man guards me. He’s neither adviser nor confessor. He may take
his leave.”

Benedict
hesitated, hatred smoldering in his eyes as he looked at Geoffrey.

“Your
majesty, the matter concerns this knight and his unseemly behavior,” Geoffrey replied.

The king
studied his guardsman a moment, interest sparking in his eyes. “So be it. Close
the door and return to my side,” he commanded.

Benedict
did as his liege instructed. He pushed the heavy wooden door shut and came to
stand next to Edward’s chair.

Merryn’s
hand tightened on his arm. Geoffrey gave her a reassuring glance and broke away
from her, moving closer to the king.

“To
understand the significance of the matter, sire, I must tell you a story. One
which you asked of me, but I was not at liberty to speak of it. Till now.”

He knew he
had Edward’s attention. The king’s churlish mood instantly vanished. A ghost of
a smile appeared upon his lips. He sat forward, eager to hear what Geoffrey had
refused to discuss previously.

“Go on.”

“Before I
continue, sire, I must ask that what is said not leave this room. The one
responsible is gone, and no good would come of punishing the children for the
sins of the father.”

The king
considered his words and then nodded sagely. “I shall grant your request, Lord
Geoffrey, because you have aroused my curiosity.” He looked up at Benedict.
“You shall never speak of what you hear.”

Geoffrey
went in for the kill. “Oh, but this knight already knows what I want to share
with you, sire.”

Edward
whipped his head around. Confusion wrinkled his brow. “
He
knows? And yet
you have not shared with
me
?” His face grew red.

“My story
starts back in France,” Geoffrey began smoothly, ignoring the king’s rising
anger.

He briefly told
of what the king already knew—his role in bringing a traitor to justice. Then
he revealed the conversation he’d had with Lord Berold after Barrett’s
execution for treason, and how the nobleman told him he would one day make him
suffer in a similar manner.

Geoffrey
explained of being pinned to a tree by an arrow and how his bride of less than
a day went for help. How men seized him and brought him to Winterbourne. He
spoke of the earl murdering those two knights, leaving their bodies to rot.

And the
living nightmare of being the earl’s captive for over six and a half years.

Edward
slammed a fist upon the table next to him. “To think this occurred in
my
kingdom! Without my knowledge or consent.” His eyes narrowed as his voice
became a low growl. “If Winterbourne were still alive, I would have him flayed
and his hot bowels torn from his body and spilled to the ground. I would have
his head removed and mounted upon a pike. I would place it atop the wall of the
Tower and let it rot for twenty years.”

The king
sprang from his chair and began pacing the solar. Both Raynor and Hugh stepped
back, allowing the path to be open. Edward marched back and forth for some
minutes, mumbling to himself.

Then he
pulled up in front of Geoffrey. “And you do not wish vengeance upon the House
of Winterbourne?”

Geoffrey
shook his head. “Nay, sire. Young Hardwin brought me food and visited me many
times over the years without his father’s knowledge. Once Lord Berold died, he freed
me.”

Understanding
flashed in Edward’s eyes. “But the cost of freedom was your sworn oath of silence
regarding what his father did.”

He nodded,
not trusting his voice. He already found it hard to describe the unspeakable
things that had occurred, in front of family he loved and the king that he
served.

The monarch
placed a hand upon his shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “You are a
better man than most, Geoffrey de Montfort. I do not know many who would have
suffered in silence as you have, nor had the fortitude to hold true to their
word.” He paused, and Geoffrey saw him trying to put the pieces together.

“But you
say my guardsman knows of this? How—”

Merryn
stepped forward. “The new earl confessed all to me when I cared for his
injuries from the joust, sire. Sir Symond was in the room, guarding the earl as
you had ordered.” Geoffrey watched her mouth harden. “But he stood in the
shadows. I doubt Hardi realized he was there. I know I did not.”

The king
looked puzzled. “How does this concern me?”

Geoffrey
went to stand by Merryn. He took her hand. As their fingers laced together, he
sensed the love and strength pour from her into him, giving him the courage to
continue.

“I came to
the solar immediately after Hardi’s confession, sire. Merryn and I talked of
the unfortunate circumstances.” He tossed his head at Benedict. “
He
would have heard our entire conversation.”

Edward
waved a hand dismissively. “So my royal guardsman is an eavesdropper. Has he
spread the news of your tale around? Is this his unspeakable behavior? Gossip?”
He looked at Benedict, who remained stoically silent.

“Nay,
sire,” Geoffrey continued. “He did much worse. Symond Benedict waylaid me.
Knocked me unconscious. I awoke—in my own dungeon.”

The king
jumped in reaction to his words. He stumbled to a nearby chair and fell into it,
his jaw slack.

“You had
promised Merryn in marriage to this knight, thinking I was dead,” Geoffrey
continued. “My return ruined those plans. But Symond Benedict decided he wanted
Kinwick—and my wife. And that he would do anything to obtain the two things he
most desired.

“He
imprisoned me in my own home and left me to die. Benedict knew if you’d once
granted him the right to Kinwick, you would do so again. He assured me he would
be lord to my lady in good time.”

Silence
hung in the room.

And then
Symond Benedict burst out in laughter.

“’Tis quite
a preposterous tale you’ve spun, Geoffrey de Montfort. I have no idea why you
hold me in such utter contempt, other than I was to be husband to your lady and
run your estates by the king’s command.” He stroked his bushy, red beard. “But
to think I would do such a beastly thing? And cause Merryn so much suffering?
‘Tis impossible.”

Before
Geoffrey could react to the monstrous lies, Merryn darted forward and slapped
Symond Benedict. He spun half around at the angry blow. He turned, blood
dribbling from the corner of his mouth. And smiled.

Geoffrey
caught his wife in his arms and drew her to him. She struggled, wanting to
attack the dishonorable knight again.

“Stop,” he
whispered in her ear.

She stilled
in his arms. He released her and looked to the king.

Edward sat,
shaking his head. “I know not what to do,” he admitted. He looked at Benedict.
“This man has been nothing but loyal to me. He has served me well over the years.
I have never caught him in a lie nor seen any disreputable behavior on his
part. But what you say troubles me. Especially since I have no proof of these
atrocities.”

The king
rubbed his chin, frowning as he concentrated.

“Do you
think Geoffrey locked himself in a dungeon cell?” Merryn demanded. “I found him
after my son told me he’d seen his father with Symond Benedict. If Ancel had
not witnessed this man dragging my husband along, I might never have gone the
way Ancel suggested. I found Geoffrey in the dungeon, not a light in sight, and
no keys anywhere. He would have starved to death, sire! It took our men several
hours to cut through the iron bars and free him.”

Her eyes
flashed with anger. “You need to punish this man to the full extent of the law.”

Geoffrey
reeled her back in. She began shaking in his arms. He didn’t know if it was
from her rage or fear of the way she had addressed the king.

Edward
closed his eyes for some minutes. Not a word was uttered during that time.

Finally, he
opened them and rose to his feet.

“The only
way to solve this is through a challenge. We must hold a trial by battle
between the men.”

“No!”
Merryn cried. “You
know
Geoffrey is a man of honor. Bound by his word as
a knight. He would never lie to you. Never! Your own son trusts him beyond
measure. I told my son—
my son
—that both his king and prince held his
father’s word in high esteem.”

She fell to
her knees. “Please, your majesty. Do not act in this manner. Hold Symond
Benedict responsible for the crimes he has committed.”

Geoffrey
knew of the king’s fondness for Merryn, but he saw she had pushed the man too
far. His jaw tightened as he rose to his feet.

“’Tis my
decision to make, Lady Merryn,” he snapped. “Not yours. I command we conduct a wager
of battle on the morrow at noon.”

A chill ran
through Geoffrey. Things had come full circle.