“I will return that message to my king.”
Renaud remounted. His squire, clearly well-trained to obey, did so as well. Renaud shook his head ruefully. “Poor Dominic, always carrying messages he does not want to know. I pray I will not see you again anytime soon,mon ami.”
Dominic watched the two Frenchmen ride back the way they’d come, waiting for sudden movement. But it seemed they would indeed be let through. The assassin was probably under orders not to be found out, and shooting again might give something away.
Eyeing him aslant, Harrington said noncommittally, “It was Norfolk suggested this spot.”
“One of several. He didn’t know which I’d chosen.”
He swung up onto his horse and kicked it into a gallop. The need for secrecy was gone, blown to bits by the arrow and its target. But even speed could not keep Dominic from thinking. He kept replaying bits and pieces of conversations and seeing half-forgotten images, all twining into one slender skein of fact.
They made a brief stop at Morpeth and Dominic forced himself to eat and wait two hours to rest the horses before remounting and riding the remainder of the fifty miles to Newcastle. It was several hours after dark on an autumn night of lowering fog and relentless drizzle when they reached Newcastle, and Dominic had to use his title more than once to get them through the streets and into the keep. He left Harrington with the horses and was ushered up to the same private chamber where he and Norfolk had met with the king five days earlier. William stood across the room, hands clasped behind his back and an expression of neutrality in his guileless blue eyes.
Dominic found the words stuck in his throat. He was tired and sweat-stained and he kept seeing that arrow, flying swift and straight into Renaud’s back.
In the end, William spoke first. “What happened?”
“Renaud was shot in the back.” Not quite a lie; not quite the truth. The result was open to interpretation.
There wasn’t a flicker of response from William, and in that moment of nonreaction, Dominic was sure. “Why, Will?”
The answer was clear and cold. “Do the unexpected. Your advice, was it not?”
“It serves no purpose.”
“In one stroke I have deprived Henri of his most brilliant military mind. And I have shown that I rule this island, not he. I have given Henri the only answer he will ever respect—that of force.”
Through the tearing pain in his chest, Dominic said, “You never meant to negotiate. It was a ploy—to distract the French and Scots while you brought your troops north. But you could have left it at that. You could have told me five days ago that you meant war, and left Renaud out of it altogether.”
“The French will be scattered and of little use without LeClerc. Now Norfolk can sweep across and deal out vengeance for his three hundred lost men. And I’ll come in behind, reinforcing primacy on our own border.”
Dominic didn’t know if it was exhaustion or grief that was making his eyes water and his head pound so that he could not think. He had never heard William sound so much like his father.
In the end Dominic went straight to the heart of the matter, the one betrayal he could not forgive. “You used me. You used my friendship with Renaud to lure him there—and you lied to me about it.”
“I needed you unwitting so that LeClerc would be unwitting. I regret the necessity of his death. But he was a soldier, and a soldier lives every day under that threat.”
“On the battlefield, yes. But there are rules, Will. You broke them all today—and you did it in my name. I cannot forget that.”
For the first time, William’s composure faltered and Dominic saw a hint of the boy who, when in trouble, had always looked to him for approval. “Dom, I am sorry you were there. But this is part of ruling. I cannot think of individuals—I must think of kingdoms.”
Dominic turned away, taking a shaky breath to steady himself. All he could think of at the moment were individuals. It seemed that he could almost see Renaud’s wife in the shadows of the room.Nicole likes to have warning. It is superstition with her that she be always in the courtyard when I return.If Renaud had been less lucky, the Frenchman would never have ridden into that courtyard again, never watched his sons become men or his daughter grow into a woman.
“Dominic? I ride for the border in the morning. Half the command is yours if you wish.”
He never wanted to see Scotland again. He turned back to William and, in his most formal voice, answered, “I would prefer to be given leave.”
“Now?” William’s eyes were no longer guileless. Defensiveness turned to attack. “I have never revoked your command as lieutenant-general of my armies. You are a senior peer of my government—your place is where I order you.”
Dominic felt only a crushing weariness and knew he couldn’t summon the ability to soothe William tonight. He didn’t even want to. “I never asked for command or titles. And I will gladly relinquish both.”
“You would let my armies fight without your experience? I thought I was not capable of doing it as well as you.”
The premonition Dominic had felt earlier was being amply justified. How many slights did William carry, just waiting to avenge? Dominic shook his head. “Do you really want a commander in the field who is there under duress?”
“Are you telling me that you will only serve if I command it?”
“Do you so command?” Dominic didn’t know what he would do if William said yes.
