Kress spoke first. “He has, my lord,” he said. “The word we are to give you isbuddugoliaeth.”
Padraig acknowledged the key word, given to him in the missive regarding Lady Cadelyn that he had received from William Marshal. “Excellent,” he said. “Please, sit and be comfortable while we wait for the lady. May I know your names?”
“I am Kress de Rhydian,” Kress said as he resumed his seat. “My companions are Bric Mac Rohan, whom I believe you know, Achilles de Dere, and Alexander de Sherrington.”
Padraig acknowledged Bric and briefly looked to Achilles and Alexander, but his attention was mostly on Kress.
“De Rhydian,” he muttered thoughtfully. “I did not know who The Marshal was sending, but I believe I have heard your name before. Have you served anyone other than Pembroke?”
Kress nodded. “I have in the past, before I followed Richard on his Great Quest.”
Padraig’s eyes narrowed, still trying to figure out where he had heard the name. “I went on the Great Quest myself,” he said. “I was with the Earl of Arundel’s army. Did you serve the king directly?”
“I did, my lord.”
Padraig thought a moment longer but it was clear he couldn’t determine where, exactly, he’d heard the name and Kress wasn’t going to give him a hint. All of the Christian armies had heard of the Executioner Knights at one point during the long months and years they were anchored to that dry and deadly land, but that moniker wasn’t something Kress bragged about. If Summerlin eventually figured it out, all well and good, but Kress wasn’t going to give him a hand at it.
There were more important things to discuss than a man’s dark reputation.
“It has been quite some time since I have been to this part of Norfolk,” Kress continued, moving away from Summerlin’s inability to remember where he’d heard his name. “I was trying to recall and I believe it was back when I was newly knighted. My liege was a friend of William d’Aubigney, the Elder. Your liege’s father, I believe. We came to Castle Rising for some kind of a festival, though I do not remember exactly what it was. I do remember there were many pretty girls in attendance, however.”
Padraig smiled faintly as he poured himself some wine. “Norfolk abounds with pretty women. Something about the wild nature of the land breeds them.”
Kress took a drink of wine. “I would believe that,” he said. “We ran into a group of them as we came through Lynn.”
Padraig glanced at him, amused. “You have a mission, de Rhydian. Pretty maids in Lynn will have to wait.”
Kress grinned in return. “True enough,” he said, quickly sobering. “Speaking of maids, what can you tell us about Cadelyn of Vendotia? Anything in particular we should know about her, as her escort?”
Padraig’s good humor seemed to fade, as well. “She is formidable,” he said honestly. “I have been commander at Castle Rising for about ten years and she was here when I took command. She was quite young at the time but, even then, she ruled the place.”
“A tyrant, then?”
Padraig shook his head. “Not really,” he said. “It is simply the way about her. She commands respect simply by walking into a room. It is difficult to explain, but you will understand when you meet her. Even if you did not know the girl’s lineage, you would suspect simply by the way she is.”
“How is that?”
Padraig lifted his eyebrows as if thinking of where to start. “She is brilliant, for one thing,” he said. “She is also extremely accomplished. She can speak several languages, she handles all of the finances here at Castle Rising because my wife refuses to do them and the majordomo is more of a follower than a leader. Cadelyn is, quite simply, a woman who will make a fine countess because of her many talents. Do not get into an argument with her, about anything. You will lose.”
Kress digested that. “The majordomo said everyone was proud of her because she would go on to be a great countess,” he said, his voice low. “Is that all anyone knows about her? They do not know the truth?”
Padraig shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Not even my wife knows, and she has been close to Cadelyn. It is better that way. Cadelyn knows, of course, but she is neither impressed by it, nordoes she want it. Still, she understands that she must keep such sensitive information to herself. But this betrothal… you may as well know she wants no part of it. It will not be an easy thing, escorting her to de Shera.”
As Kress scratched his head, pondering a reluctant subject, Alexander spoke. “Why doesn’t she want any part of it?” he asked. “Does she have a lover?”
But Padraig shook his head. “Nothing like that,” he said. “She knows this is to be a political alliance and she is as far from political as one can get. De Shera sent a missive a while ago, right after the betrothal was contracted, inquiring about her health and generally being pleasant, but she refused to respond to it. Not even my wife could get her to do it.”
“And de Shera?” Alexander asked. “What do you know of him?”
Padraig held up a finger. “That is a very good question,” he said. “I have heard about The Paladin and how Tatius’ younger brothers are the ones who run the place and command the de Shera armies. That is common knowledge in this part of England. But I had an old merchant here once, a man with a business in Chester who stayed the night on his way to Norwich, who told me some interesting things about Tatius de Shera.”
“Like what?”
Padraig looked at Alexander, pointedly. “Do not repeat this to Tatius, but this old merchant told me after too much wine that Tatius is a drunkard, a man who loses himself to wine far too often.”
“How would he even know that?”
“Because the old merchant evidently did a good deal of business with The Paladin,” Padraig said. “But he told me something else that was far more interesting.”
