It was the truth. The House of de Nerra had always stood for piety and devotion to the church but, after this, they wouldbecome an enemy of the godly. There wasn’t much more to say after that and Calum patted Val on the shoulder comfortingly before heading to the solar door. He suspected the man needed time to his thoughts. But he paused before leaving entirely, turning to Val one last time.
“I did not ask you how your journey was with Lady Vesper and her father yesterday,” he said. “Are you officially courting the woman now? Celesse likes her a great deal, by the way. She is looking forward to another young woman here at Selborne.”
Val looked at him, sharply. He had only just succeeded from chasing thoughts of the woman from his mind. Now, they were back again, full-bore. They mingled with thoughts of Henry, beating him down. Leaning against the table, he hung his head in a defeated gesture.
“That is another matter altogether,” he said. “You are not going to believe what happened.”
Calum was intrigued. He came back into the chamber. “Is that so?” he said. “Do tell.”
Val had been right; so great his surprise, Calum hardly believed him and wondered, secretly, how much more the man could take. Val de Nerra was strong but he wasn’t invincible.
That strength was about to be put to the test.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was awinter’s dawn, complete with ice on the ground and a pewter-colored sky. The weather this winter had been so mild that only now, in the midst of the Christmas season, was it starting to truly feel like winter.
Val was in his solar in the hours before dawn, waiting for the men Calum had selected to join him. He knew they would be here soon, eager to know their directive and Val had been wracking his brain for the past two hours on how to ease them into the seriousness of the orders. He’d hoped to soften the blow. But he’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t; any way they were to look at Henry’s missive, the situation was plain– Val had been asked to intercede in something that, so far, only the Pope had made an attempt to intercede in. It was a feud that had been going on for years. And now, Henry was hiding behind the law in this case or, more specifically, behind Val.
A man who could take the fall for him.
It was a realization that had cost Val sleep that night. He’d been horribly exhausted from no sleep the night before in Bishop’s Waltham and had managed just a few hours before thoughts of Henry and Canterbury woke him. He hadn’t beenable to sleep with those two on his mind, so he’d arisen, shaved, and dressed, preparing to meet his men before heading out to Canterbury.
In the weak light of the tallow tapers, Val was seated at the table, once again going over the missive sent from Henry. He’d already read it fifty times; he didn’t know why he needed to read it again. When he’d read it the first few times yesterday, he’d been in a bit of a fog, and this morning he was only starting to think clearly about it. If Val was one thing, it was decisive– and he always had a plan. He’d come up with a plan for the arrest, one which relied heavily on logic. He could only hope he could stick to that plan before Canterbury’s guards rushed him.
As he was mulling over what was to come, a figure appeared in the solar door and he looked up to see the silhouette of someone carrying a tray. He assumed it was a servant until it came into the light and he saw his mother enter, carrying a tray with food and drink upon it. Puzzled, as his mother hadn’t served him food and drink since he was a child, he stood up and took the tray from her as she approached his table.
“I am flattered,” he said, setting the tray down and looking at the contents– bread, porridge, warmed wine. “Since you have not brought me food in some time, I feel a little as if you are bringing me a last meal.”
He meant it in jest but Margaretha saw no humor in it. Wrapped tightly in soft blue wool, her features were pale and strained in this early morning hour. She’d been told of Henry’s missive the night before and had been unable to sleep because of it. Her beautiful, strong son was to be used as a scapegoat by a stubborn and vile king… those horrible thoughts had been rolling around in her mind for hours. It hurt her heart to know that her proud boy would soon be facing an unwinnable situation. Therefore, she had to see him before he left.
God only knew if he would return.
“It may be poisoned for all you know,” she said seriously, as she was coming to appreciate his attempt to lighten the dark mood. “I would be careful eating it if I were you.”
Val gave her a half-grin. “That is what I like about you, Mother,” he said. “You show no mercy. You would poison me rather than let me carry out Henry’s order.”
Any levity Margaretha might have been feeling was dashed. “It might be a blessing,” she murmured, pulling her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “Although we did not discuss this much when you told me, I find that now I must. I have been thinking about this all night, Val. You know that you are going to be punished for this. You are being ordered to involve yourself in a family squabble. When it is all over, Henry and Thomas shall forgive each other and you shall be imprisoned.”
“I am doing what I have been ordered to do.”
“But you cannot win!”
Val didn’t want to argue with her, not now. But he’d had the very same thoughts so it was difficult for him to hold out against her. “Then what do you suggest?” he hissed. “That I refuse? I will find myself imprisoned faster if I do that. You saw the missive for yourself; he threatened me if I refused the order. Or shall I side with Canterbury on this? We would lose everything if I did.”
Margaretha watched him as he moved about the table, his movements full of the frustration he was feeling. “Your father still has family in Le Ruau,” she said quietly. “Go, Val. Go to France and remain there until this situation goes away.”
Val looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Leave?” he repeated. He could see the concern on her face and he labored to ease her. “Mother, I know you are frightened but running away is not the answer. I would be a coward if I did and I am not a coward. You named me Valor for a reason, did you not? I would not be living up to my name if I ran from this.”
Margaretha was starting to feel some desperation, unusual for the usually cool woman. “Sometimes caution is the better part of valor,” she muttered.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I have one son,” she said. “I do not wish to see him caught up in Henry’s personal battles. There are some battles that you cannot win and this is one of them.”
He snorted. “You are fine when I am in the king’s favor but the moment he asks something of me that requires bravery, you want me to fold like a weakling. I am sorry, Mother, but you did not raise a fool. I will fulfill my duties and I will face whatever the consequences are. I thought you knew me better than that.”
“And Lady Vesper?” Margaretha went for the jugular. “What about her? You said you wanted to court her, Val. How are you to do that if you are in prison?”
