Jeniver smiled. “It could be considered quite unseemly by others,” she warned gently. “Surely you understand that.”
“I understand.”
Jeniver was pleased that the lure of being alone with Maximus was worth the risk of gossips. That showed that LadyCourtly had some bravery in her and it also showed that perhaps her feelings for Maximus were indeed genuine. In any case, the woman was agreeable, as they had hoped. Jeniver turned to Maximus.
“Max?” she said, catching his attention. “Hurry us along to Oxford, now. You and Lady Courtly have shopping to do.”
Maximus didn’t need to be told twice.
*
Oxford Castle
“Gallus, we mustmove. We must convene at Westminster.”
The ominous words came from Simon de Montfort. Leader of the baron’s rebellion against Henry III, he had essentially been in control of the country since the end of April when the king had been virtually overthrown by de Montfort and his most powerful barons, Hugh Bigod and Gallus de Shera included.
Hugh Bigod was also in on this meeting along with Peter de Montfort, of no relation to Simon, Hugh’s brother Roger, John Fitzgeoffrey, and Richard de Clare. These were some of the most powerful men in England at this time, men who ruled alongside de Montfort, but Simon’s latest words had Gallus furrowing his brow.
“Why?” Gallus asked, perplexed. “I thought we were meeting here, with all of our supporters, in two days?”
De Montfort shook his head. A big man, he was older but he was still quite strong and healthy. He sat heavily in the nearest chair, one of oak with a silk pillow on the seat, and one that happened to be the closest to the pewter decanter of wine that de Montfort was so fond of. As the man poured himself a draught of wine, he spoke.
“Our main goal last month when Hugh wrested power from the king was that a council be set up to govern the country so the king does not have absolute rule,” he said. “You know this, Gallus. You were there when Henry agreed to surrender his absolute rule in favor of a council of twenty-four men, chosen equally by him and by us.”
Gallus snorted. “The king did not have much choice with Maximus standing over him,” he said. “He was afraid he was about to be arrested or worse. Maximus has that effect on people.”
Simon’s lips flickered with a smile as he remembered the incident. Henry had been caught off-guard by a mutiny of his barons and, fearful of being thrown in the Tower, had agreed to their terms. That was essentially how de Montfort had come to power, but the struggle wasn’t over, not in the least.
“So he does,” Simon agreed. He took a long swallow of wine and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “I have received word that Henry has chosen his representatives for the council and, unfortunately, I agree with none of them. Most of them are damnable Poitevins, Henry’s relatives from France that seem to be infiltrating our country by the hundreds. Those men have no right to rule England.”
It was serious news, indeed. The king’s French relatives were one of the main points of contention between Henry and his barons.
“What do we do?” Gallus asked quietly. “Henry was free to choose his representatives, as we were free to choose ours.”
Simon eyed him. “Henry was free to choose men whobelongin England,” he snapped softly, “not mercenary relatives who will only govern for their own good and not for England’s. That is why we must go to London, Gallus. My sources tell me that they are convening at Westminster and we must be there.”
Gallus understood. “Very well,” he said, though there was disappointment in his tone.
Simon caught the inflection. “What is it?”
Gallus hesitated a moment before speaking. “I was hoping we would be finished with our business in Oxford quickly so that I could return home and see to my mother,” he said. “I realize that seems like a trivial thing when the fate of the country hangs in balance, but certainly it is not trivial to me.”
Simon sobered, eyeing Hugh Bigod, who was standing several feet away. Hugh and Gallus had shared a contentious relationship for the past several months, culminating last month in what could have been a rather violent circumstance. The truth was that Hugh had not forgiven Gallus for refusing to marry his daughter and the situation, and Hugh’s pride, had veered out of control. It was only redeemed when Gallus saved the man’s army from an attack from the king’s forces, although Simon was still unclear as to how, exactly, Gallus had known the king was moving against Bigod. It was still a mystery but one Simon couldn’t spare any thought to. At the moment, he had quite enough to deal with and he worried that Hugh might press Gallus on the very touchy subject of his dying mother, so it was a situation between the men that continued to bear watching.
“Lady Honey has not improved, Gallus?” Hugh asked politely.
Gallus knew that Hugh did not approve of him, arguably the rebellion’s greatest warlord, being so inordinately attached to his mother. It was one of many points of disagreement between them. Lady Honey de Shera was a daughter of England’s greatest champion, Christopher de Lohr, and by sheer association she was greatly respected among fighting men.
Still, Hugh had always seemed to disapprove of the fact that all of the de Shera brothers were very attached to her. He’d even spread gossip about boys being curtailed by their mother’s apronstrings. That being the case, it wasn’t a subject that Gallus was willing to be pressed on by Bigod and he could feel his temper rise.
“She has not,” he turned to look at Hugh as if daring the man to say more. “If we are moving to London, then my brothers and I will go, but I would like to take time to see my mother first.”
Simon tried to be tactful. “Gallus, Coventry is three days north of Oxford,” he said. “Even if you ride like the wind, it will still take you almost two weeks to ride north to Coventry and then south to London. Henry is gathering his council representatives next week. We cannot wait so long for you to see your mother. I am dreadfully sorry to say so, but it is true. If you go to Coventry, then we go to London without you.”
Gallus sighed sharply and turned away from de Montfort, wandering over to the hearth in the great solar of Oxford Castle, a solar that had seen more than its share of war conferences. It had seen more than its share of strife. As Gallus leaned up against the hearth, debating on his course of action, Peter de Montfort made his way over to him.
Peter was an older man, wise and calm, and he and Gallus had an excellent bond. He put his hand on Gallus’ shoulder.
