CHAPTER ONE
Farringdon House
London Townhome of the Earl of Pembroke, William Marshal
“You’re drunk.”
“I was, but I am quite lucid now. I am told you wish to see me?”
Caius was answering the accusation of a man standing several feet away, across the vast and beautiful chamber with hand-painted walls that looked better suited for a prince or a king, or even a woman, and not a great warlord and spy master.
It was the lair of the legendary William Marshal.
A knight of the highest order, he was also a titled lord who controlled the winds of politics in England as much as the king did. John may have been king, but William was the puppet master to a large degree. Here, in his swanky London townhome of Farringdon House near the western edge of the city, the fate of a country was manipulated.
Changed.
Controlled.
The chamber was warm and dim, the only light and heat coming from a roaring fire in the hearth that was taller than aman. That meant an inordinate amount of heat filled the room and even though Caius said he was lucid, the truth was that he was still tipsy and the warmth of the room was making him sleepy.
But he fought it, instead, focusing his intense gaze on the older man with the yellowed eyes and a piercing stare of his own.
It was that piercing stare that beheld Caius just a little bit longer than necessary, as if to determine whether or not the man was telling him the truth. But Caius met the man steadily.
William finally looked away, gesturing to two chairs that were positioned in front of that uncomfortably warm hearth.
“Sit,” he said. “Something has come up, Cai. This is… complicated, I fear.”
Caius broke from his position near the entry, where he’d been standing, and headed towards the chair William had indicated. He wondered if he was weaving as he walked because he certainly felt that way, trying to pretend that he wasn’t. He was trying awfully hard to pretend he wasn’t drunk, as William had accused.
He wouldn’t let the man have the satisfaction.
“If it is personal, then I am at your service,” he said. “You honor me.”
William sat down, heavily, in the more comfortable of the two chairs, leaving Caius to plant his bulk in the hard-bottomed oak chair. William shifted, seemingly unable to look Caius in the eyes for the moment.
There was much on his mind.
Around them, other knights were in the chamber, in the shadows, watching and listening. Caius knew that Sean and Maxton were there, along with Kevin, Bric, Dashiell, and Peter. Morgan and Gareth had been left down in the central courtyard of the fortress-like townhome, waiting for their commanders.They were newer members of The Marshal’s elite force, but some privileges still had to be earned.
Like being part of a private meeting.
For William, it was not only private, but personal. That was clear in his manner. He finally looked up at Caius, at the men back in the shadows, knowing he was among men who not only served and respected him, but were as close to friends as a man like him could get. His guard came down, just a little, and he cleared his throat softly.
“Two months ago, my niece, Alice, daughter of my sister, Margaret, was married,” he said. “This, in and of itself, is not an astounding thing. Women are married all the time. But Alice… let us say that she is not an attractive girl. She is also not young at thirty years and four. We never thought she would be married, but a surprising offer came from Covington de Wrenville and my sister naturally accepted. I did not find out about it until last week when I received a call for assistance from de Wrenville himself. He impressed upon me his new ties to my family and insisted I come to his aid.”
Caius was listening closely. So far, there hadn’t been any earth-shattering revelations. “What is his trouble, my lord?”
William gave him an exasperated look. “Whatisn’this trouble?” he said. “Do you know anything about Covington de Wrenville?”
Caius lifted his big shoulders. “I have heard the name, but I’ve had no direct contact with him. His seat is in Worcestershire, I think.”
“Shrewsbury,” William corrected. “In short, Covington de Wrenville is a warlord loyal to John. His son, Marius, is a favorite of the king at the moment and I am convinced this entire marriage was orchestrated to establish family ties to me.”
Marius de Wrenville. The same whelp Caius had beaten in the drinking game at The Pox. No wonder Maxton and Seanhad looked so shocked when they realized the de Wrenville heir had been Caius’ opponent, but Caius wasn’t sure he should tell The Marshal that. It might make the situation worse, so he pretended that he didn’t know anything about the family.
“Every family in England would like to be related to you,” he said. “Surely that is not surprising.”
