Alnwick Castle
Adam Wellesbourne, incharge of the wall on this fine but cold evening as the sun set against the western hills of Northumbria, was the first one to see the lone rider approach from the south.
Alnwick had been bottled up tight since the return of the army from Towton nearly two weeks ago. No one went in or out, and there was the constant fear of Edward’s army arriving and demanding the surrender of the fortress. They all knew that was coming; they simply didn’t know when. With Edward’s rule established after the victory at Towton and Henry on the run, the surrender of Alnwick was inevitable. Like a sinking ship, it was only a matter of time before it was scuttled. That being the case, the young earl spent most of his time with his mother these days, planning the move to Warkworth Castle as Atticus had demanded, while his knights, seasoned men that had served his father, had charge of the fortress, watching and waiting for the coming changing of the guard.
In such a case, it would stand to reason that things like lone riders grated on their fears. Tertius, having been in charge since Atticus left, was currently in conference with the young earl and the dowager countess as Wellesbourne signaled the approach of the lone rider. Since there was only one man, the man-gate that was built within the great gates of Alnwick opened, emitting two armed men on horseback who quickly intercepted the approaching rider.
Together, the trio then approached the gatehouse and by that time, Adam was there to meet them. Surprise registered across his face when he realized that he recognized the rider.
“De Royans?” he asked, incredulous. “Why are you… oh, God… my wife. Is Audrey well? Or is it my father?”
Juston held up a heavily gloved hand. “It is neither,” he said. “They are both in good health.”
Adam was so relieved that he nearly collapsed with it. “Thank God,” he muttered. But it only seemed to increase his puzzlement over de Royans’ presence. “Then why are you here?”
Beneath his open visor and heavy, woolen scarf, Juston’s blue eyes were riveted to Adam. “Because we received information that you are now sworn to Edward,” he said. “Yet I find you here at Alnwick, manning the gatehouse with Percy soldiers. This is most confusing.”
Adam was clearly perplexed. “Me?” he asked. “Sworn to Edward?”
“That is what your father was told,” Juston replied. “He has sent me to Alnwick to discover the truth of it.”
Adam’s expression went from one of puzzlement to one of rage quite quickly. “Who told you such lies?” he demanded. “I have never declared for Edward nor shall I.”
De Royans could see simply by Adam’s reaction that the rumor was false. He had suspected as much and on his long ride north, he’d come to the conclusion that de la Londe and de Troiuwere complete and utter liars. De Royans had known Adam for many years and the man was many things– rash, impulsive, fierce, and humorous– but he was not a traitor to the crown. Hearing Adam’s denial simply confirmed it. He didn’t doubt the man for a second.
“Take me inside,” de Royans said, pointing at the gatehouse. “Unfreeze my bones and we will have a discussion, you and I. Your father wants to know what is going on, Adam. There are mysterious and unhealthy dealings afoot that you must be made aware of.”
Adam already figured that much out; de Royans’ very presence told him as much. Ordering the gate opened so they could all pass through comfortably without being restricted by the man-gate, Alnwick was once again bottled up tight as Adam took de Royans into the great hall.
By this time, word had spread of de Royans’ arrival and they were joined in the great hall by Alec le Bec and Maxim de Russe. De Royans had been traveling for days upon days and, in particular, he’d set out on this day well before dawn, traversing frozen moors in icy weather. Therefore, when it came to removing his clothing, the man could barely move and Alec and Maxim took to pulling stuff off of him. Even Adam got into the action, removing de Royans’ ice-bound helm from his head and unwinding the crackling, icy, woolen scarf that had become sweaty, and frozen, and sweaty again over the days of travel. By the time the knight was unwound, unbound, and removed from most of his outer clothing, he simply sat there in the heat of the great hall and quivered.
“God’s Bloody Neck,” de Royans hissed a curse through blue lips. “Why has it remained so frozen this spring? The warmth should at least be making an attempt to return by this time of year.”
Adam gave him a half-grin as he ordered the servants to lay out de Royans’ things before the snapping hearth. “It is simple,” he said. “God hates England. He is trying to freeze us to death.”
De Royans’ lips cracked into a smile. “That is possible,” he said. “I believe he likes France and Spain more. It is warmer there.”
The knights around the big, scrubbed table snorted with humor, lightening the mood. But soon enough, the mood darkened again as Adam faced his father’s half-frozen knight.
“Tell me what has you traveling over miles of frozen land, Juston,” he said. “Who said I had sworn fealty to Edward?”
A servant brought hot wine and de Royans wrapped his cold fingers around the cup, sighing with contentment at the heat. “A short time ago, Declan de Troiu and Simon de la Londe came to Wellesbourne Castle,” he said. “They came on a mission from Norfolk, which was confusing enough until they mentioned that you had sworn fealty to Edward. Your father, sensing that something was afoot, had both knights thrown into the vault at Wellesbourne Castle until he could discover the truth. That is why he has sent me here, to learn what goes on here in the north. Why would de Troiu and de la Londe say such things?”
Adam grunted with disgust, eyeing Maxim and Alec. Maxim, perhaps the most emotional knight of the group, plopped down on the bench opposite de Royans.
“They have become traitors to all we have known,” he said, raking his hand through his black hair. “They murdered Titus de Wolfe.”
De Royans’ brows furrowed in concern, in horror, as Adam filled in the details. “As near as we can determine, the Duke of Norfolk somehow contacted the pair,” he said. “In exchange for money, or lands, or both, he somehow coerced them into attempting to persuade Northumberland’s entire knight corps into swearing fealty to Edward. The first knight they approachedwas Titus and when the man refused, they murdered him. Then they fled south, undoubtedly to flee Atticus’ wrath.”
De Royans sipped at his hot wine. “The Lion of the North,” he muttered. “WhereisAtticus?”
Adam accepted his own hot wine from the nearest servant. “He took Titus back to Wolfe’s Lair for burial,” he replied, sipping at the steaming brew. “The man is bent on vengeance, Juston. He wants de Troiu and de la Londe. You say that my father has them both captive at Wellesbourne?”
“He does indeed.”
“Then Atticus must know. He will want to go to Wellesbourne Castle to dispense justice.”
“And I will go with him,” Maxim declared. “Titus was my mentor. I wanted to go with Atticus from the start but Thetford would not allow it.”
