Owen stepped forward. When the king gave permission for him to speak, he said, ‘There is still the matter of my brother’s death. It cannot go unpunished.’
The king paused a moment and said, ‘Both of you have said the other man is responsible for Alan de Courcy’s death. We will let God decide who is the true murderer.’
Warrick relaxed, for this would be a matter of trial by combat. He could easily defeat Owen de Courcy, and justice would be served.
‘It is clear who the true murderer is,’ Owen countered. ‘Warrick de Laurent and Lady Pevensham found my brother’s body. I have no doubt of this, and my servants will give witness.’
The king turned a cold look upon him. ‘We must not doubt that God is the highest witness of all. If you are innocent, as you say, then you shall prevail.’ He let his gaze pass over Warrick and Owen. ‘I gave penance for my grievous sins, and God granted me the victory at Alnwick. If either of you wishes to confess your guilt and offer penance, this trial will be lifted from you.’
Warrick held his silence, for he had done nothing wrong. Owen’s face was bright with anger, but the man refused to confess anything.
‘So be it,’ the king said. He eyed each of them and said quietly, ‘This trial will not be decided by combat.’
An uneasy feeling washed over Warrick. He didn’t like the look in Henry’s eyes, which was of a man who believed he was omnipotent. It was as if he already knew the judgement he would pass.
Warrick met Rosamund’s gaze, but her face held stark fear. She tried to move closer to him, and this time, the soldiers allowed it. Her fingers were like ice as she threaded her hand in his, gripping him hard. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.
In answer, he squeezed her palm, letting her know without words how much he loved her. This woman was his life, his reason for being alive. And if he was asked to choose between protecting her and their child or accepting a false judgement, he would do whatever was necessary to shield them.
A sly smile crossed Henry’s face. ‘Since the murderer was also responsible for the poisoning of Alan de Courcy, we believe this is the truest test of finding the man who committed this crime. Thus, we will have both men drink from a poisoned cup. He who is innocent will be spared by God.’
Owen was aghast at the idea. ‘Both of us will die if we drink. It is impossible.’
Perhaps that was what Henry wanted. A man as powerful as the king cared little for two lives. Warrick gripped Rosamund’s hand, and she was shaking her head in horror. ‘No.’ But her denial was silent, her lips forming the word she could not bring herself to speak.
Tears spilled from her eyes, and she buried her face in his chest. A deep ache spread throughout his body, at the thought of leaving her behind. His hand spread into her hair, stroking it as he drew her to look at him.
‘I love you, Rosamund.’ He kissed her softly and then turned back to look into Henry’s shrewd eyes. It was then that he understood what this was—a true test of character.
Warrick stepped forward and said, ‘I am not afraid to face God’s judgement. I know of my innocence.’ He spoke quietly, but he could not deny the pounding of his heart. There was a strong risk that Henry did intend to poison both of them.
‘And what if God judges that it is his will for you to die?’ the king demanded. ‘Will you freely drink from the cup?’
‘I know that I am not responsible for Alan de Courcy’s death,’ he said. ‘And if God chooses to take my life, I trust that you will ensure that my wife returns to Pevensham without the threat of Owen de Courcy or his men. Rosamund will give birth to Alan’s heir and remain under the protection of her people.’ He knelt before Henry. ‘I have shown you my loyalty by fighting among your men. Whatever cup you give to me, I will drink from it.’
He lowered his gaze, not wanting to see Henry’s response. There was no way to know what decision the king would make. But blind obedience was the only choice, even if it meant his death. He did believe Henry would protect Rosamund, especially after the midwife had given her testimony.
A part of him had suspected his life would always come to this—death, before he would ever have land of his own. But in Rosamund’s eyes, she saw someone more, a man she loved. Her words of quiet faith had struck him to the bone. And he loved her enough to give his life to protect hers.
‘And what of you?’ Henry turned back to Owen. ‘Will you drink of the cup and trust in God?’
Owen blanched and took a step backwards. ‘I—my liege, I have done nothing wrong. I swear it to you.’
‘But you are afraid of God’s judgement.’
‘Any man would be afraid to drink poison.’ Owen shook his head. ‘It is not necessary, my liege. I can bring any number of witnesses who will swear to my innocence.’
The king’s expression remained stoic. ‘One man is willing to test God’s will, while another is not.’ He gestured to his soldiers. ‘Seize Owen de Courcy and bind him. He may have nothing to eat or drink, save the cup of poison that we give to him.’
To Warrick, Henry said, ‘As for you, you have proven your innocence before all. Any man willing to drink of a cup of poison, with no fear of meeting God’s judgement, is not a murderer.’
A weight seemed to lift from Warrick’s shoulders that he would not be asked to drink from such a cup. Rosamund went to kneel beside him at the king’s feet. She took his hand in hers and bowed before the king. ‘You are most wise, my king. Pevensham and its people will always remain faithful to you. As will my son or daughter.’ She raised a shining face of joy to Henry, who rested his hand upon her forehead. There was kindness there, and a wry sense of knowing that he had passed judgement correctly.
‘Go in peace,’ he bade them. ‘And if we have need of your alliance, we will call upon Pevensham’s soldiers.’
‘They are at your command,’ Rosamund answered. At that, the king helped her to rise, and Warrick took her in his arms. He kissed her hard, and many of the soldiers erupted in cheers. The taste of her mouth was the sweetness of love, with the promise of hope for their future together.
She held him close, and he whispered in her ear. ‘I love you, Rosamund. And we were meant to be together from the first.’
