BY THE UNHOLY HAND
A Medieval Romance
Book One in the Unholy Trinity Series
By Kathryn Le Veque
PROLOGUE
Five months later
Year of our Lord 1200 A.D.
Caversham Manor, Berkshire
A demesne of William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke
It had beena very bad winter.
The sky was the color of pewter, creating casts of dark and shadowed doom upon the winter-dead landscape and bringing to bear all of the unsettled moods that were so prevalent across the country. A new king had taken the throne less than a year before and now, in this dead and colorless winter, the land reflected the soul of the people.
Dead and colorless since John ascended after Richard’s unfortunate death.
But death was a part of life and those left behind were forced to deal with the aftermath. As William Marshal sat in the small but cozy solar of Caversham Manor, he could see the fire snapping and crackling before him but he swore he could not feel the heat.
All he felt was the cold of an uncertain future.
The Marshal’s world was one of trouble these days. As his mind wandered through the vines and thorns of the complex news he had received earlier in the day, it made less sense now than the moment he had first heard it. In fact, the bearer of the news was seated beside him with a cup of watered wine in his hand and the air, though stagnant with the smell of smoke and stale rushes, was filled with tension.
Doom surrounded them.
William knew the deliverer of the information, a strong and true knight William had known for several years. There were few finer men in the world than Sir Gart Forbes. Forbes had spent the past several years traversing through France and the Teutonic princedoms, fighting for the very rich lords who could pay for his sword. He’d gone on Crusade with Richard, and he’d remained after the fall of Acre, trying not to get caught up in the battle between the western church and the eastern church. There was Rome, there was Constantinople, and then there was the ominous suggestion that the Holy Father, the Pope, was no longer satisfied with waging conflict against his brothers in the eastern empire. Now, he was turning his suspicious and shrewd eyes westward to England.
It was a horrifying thought. According to Forbes, rumors of pure madness were flying fast and furious along the Pilgrim Trail, along the roads that led from the east to the civilized west. Forbes, a man who knew many but called few friend, had come back to England after eight long years away bearing tales of such insanity that William was still having difficulty believing them. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough trouble these days, with the French king raising an army in an attempt to regain Normandy. In fact, William had been in the process of planning a return to Normandy when Forbes had appeared with his news. It had taken William all afternoon to swallow the information, digestit, and understand the validity of it. Now, the information was consuming him from the inside-out.
“I had forgotten how bitter the winters are in England,” Forbes said quietly, breaking the stillness of the room. “I had become accustomed to warmth all year ’round.”
William turned to him, smiling weakly. “You prefer the heat of the savage kingdom, do you?”
Forbes laughed softly. “It has its advantages.”
William’s yellowed eyes moved over Forbes; he was a big man with a shaved head, young and handsome. He was also darkened by the sun from his years away from England, his skin tan as a cow’s hide.
“Mayhap,” William finally said, sighing heavily and sitting forward in his chair, hoping to catch some of the heat from the crackling fire. “Gart, we must speak again on the information you delivered to me this afternoon.”
“Aye, my lord?”
“You are certain that you heard this correctly?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Explain it to me again. I want to make sure I did not misunderstand you.”
Forbes cleared his throat softly, almost nervously. He wouldn’t look at William as he spoke, mostly because the news he had delivered to William Marshal had been received from a whore and Forbes was ashamed of the fact. Whores were not the most reliable of sources and for a knight of his status to have not only listened to the woman, but to have repeated her words, was somewhat shameful. But on the chance she was telling the truth, Forbes didn’t want to be left with guilt for not having relayed her information.
“You did not misunderstand me, my lord,” he said, lowering his voice. “I told you the truth of what I have heard. In fact, I have a witness to what I was told– Alexander de Sherringtonwas with me at the time. I am sure you know Sherry; he is one of the most elite and powerful knights I have ever known, and he became a good friend while we were in The Levant. We even traveled together for a while.”
William nodded faintly. “I know Sherry,” he said. “A frightening man, in fact. He is also something of a loner.”
