Kress’ eyebrows rose. “LadyCadie?”
The majordomo grinned, a toothless gesture. “She is to be married to a great lord and we are very proud of her,” he said. “She shall be a great countess. Please come inside with me and I shall send for my lord.”
Kress looked to Achilles, mouthingLady Cadiebecause it had a comical rhyme to it. Not something he was expecting a Welsh princess to be called, but he was wondering if the majordomo really knew who Lady Cadelyn was. The old man had mentioned she would become a countess but nothing beyond that.
Given what William had told them all, Kress suspected no one other than Summerlin knew of Lady Cadelyn’s true identity. If they were trying to hide the woman from the king, and anyone else who would have use for a full-blooded Welsh princess, then that kind of information wouldn’t be public knowledge.
The four knights followed the old man into the impressive forebuilding, which protected the stone staircase that led up to the entry foyer. The foyer opened up into a great hall, a cavernous place with a throne niche and a massive fireplace that was smoking gently.
At this time of day, it was mostly servants in the hall, moving about their duties, so the four knights entered, boots echoing against the wooden flooring, and took a seat at the end of one of two long feasting tables in the chamber. Each table could seat close to one hundred men or more, and once they took a seat, the majordomo left them and fled into an adjoining room, ordering food and drink for their guests.
As servants began to bring pitchers of wine and wooden cups to the table, the majordomo disappeared, presumably to locate Summerlin. Food soon began to arrive and the knights began to remove gloves and helms, loosening belts and generally relaxing.Kress was the first one to down a full cup of the sweet, red wine, smacking his lips with approval.
“At least they have good wine out here in the wilds of Norfolk,” he said.
The other three men weren’t far behind him, each of them drinking deeply from their cups. “Sweet,” Alexander said, licking his lips. “It tastes like some Spanish wine I had in Zaragoza, once. A nice city, Zaragoza. It had fine wine, a beautiful cathedral, but the one thing it did not have was a pretty woman giving me a card with an indecent poem on it.”
Bric and Achilles started to laugh softly as Kress dug into a pocket on his tunic and pulled forth the beautifully painted card.
“Astonishing,” he said sincerely as he looked it over again. “It truly looks like a prayer card and one would think so except for the particularly titillating poetry.”
Alexander grinned as he leaned over and plucked the card from Kress’ grasp. He held it up, studying the beautiful artwork. “Whoever did this is very accomplished,” he said. “I would say he has painted something like this before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that it could be someone who was schooled by a priest or a scholar. Fine artwork such as this does not simply happen. It takes years of practice.”
Kress took the card back, looking at it seriously. “Seems like rather shocking propaganda,” he said. Then, he grinned. “But mayhap it is a message of what the lass wants me to do to her. I would not be opposed to it.”
They all snorted with humor as Bric spoke up. “It could be a trap,” he said. “I have lived in Norfolk for a few years now and I have never had a lass approach me with an offer like that.”
Kress sneered at him. “You are not as pretty as I am.”
“Or as bright.”
Bric was tapping his head in an insulting insinuation and the group laughed, mostly at Kress’ expense. But he took no offense with it.
“You are all shades of envy,” he said flatly. “You are simply jealous that she did not hand the card to you. Mark my words; I shall return when this mission is finished and find that lass.”
“Best of luck to you,” Bric said. “But if I find her first, you will have to concede to me.”
“I will concedenothingto you, Irish. And you stay away from my future conquest.”
More snorts and chuckles went around the table as Kress tucked the card away again and began pulling at the fresh bread that had been brought around. Achilles had produced a knife and was cutting off hunks of the tart, white cheese. The bread, cheese, and wine were fine refreshments and the conversation soon turned from the mysterious young woman in Lynn to the road they would take to Chester.
Having traveled extensively on his own in the middle and north of England, Alexander spoke of the best route that would take them west through Grantham and Nottingham. In fact, there was a tavern in Nottingham, one he very much wanted to visit because he’d joined friends there before they’d left on crusade with King Richard. He spoke of how old the tavern was built into the rock that supported Nottingham Castle and of how many knights passed through the establishment who had never returned home.
At that point, the conversation turned to the Great Quest itself, the one that Richard had undertaken against the great Muslim general, Salah ad-Din, which all four knights had been part of. It had been in their youths and the truth was that it seemed as if it had happened a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then and they were no longer the young, hungryknights that had answered Richard’s call. Now, they were deadly, seasoned knights in their prime.
Indeed, much had changed.
Engaged in an intense conversation about a particular skirmish on the sands of The Levant that they had all been part of, they were interrupted when a big man with shoulder-length blond hair entered the hall. The majordomo was shuffling behind the man, quickly, catching the orders that were being thrown out at him.
“…and if my wife does not know where she is, then send out men to look for her,” the man was saying in an irritated fashion. “Delesse lets that woman wander all over the damned place without restraint and she knows better than to do that. Go, now. Find Lady Cadelyn and bring her to the hall immediately.”
By this time, Kress and the others were standing to greet the man that was clearly the commander of Castle Rising. When the man saw that all attention was on him, he came to a halt next to the table and tried to ease his annoyed manner.
“Good knights,” he greeted. “I am Padraig Summerlin, Lord of Castle Rising. My majordomo tells me that The Marshal has sent you for Lady Cadelyn.”
