Page 29 of King’s Knight

Countess Ermentrude stood and gave a small cheer; Lady Serena nodded her head, smiling.

Rory and Guy left the other game and came to congratulate her and tease Alex. “Felled by the fair damsel!” proclaimed Guy with glee.

“We dare not tell the king of your loss to a lass,” chimed in Rory with feigned terror.

Alex grinned at Merewyn. “We will see who wins the next game.”

Pleased she had won, Merewyn did not think Alex minded the jests he endured from his fellow knights. Mayhap he would win the next game as the gleam in his eye portended.

Talisand’s lord, having defeated Earl Hugh, rose from his bench. Joined by Lady Serena, he proposed a toast. “To the talented ladies!”

Everyone raised their goblets. Countess Ermentrude downed her wine and proudly said, “I love to see a bold knight vanquished at chess by a lady. ’Tis one of the few battlefields where we can be the victor.”

Earl Hugh hastened to give his opinion. “ ’Tis best it is so.”

Lady Serena rolled her eyes and clinked her goblet against Ermentrude’s, the two exchanging a grin.

“We had best retire,” said Alex’s father. “The bells toll Compline and our next stop is Shrewsbury. Beyond that, a long road awaits us to London.”

Merewyn did not disagree and, with the others, ascended the stairs to her chamber, thinking of a rematch with Alex. She was not being very true to her plan to keep distance between them. In truth, she relished any chance to be with him, even if it meant losing a game of chess.

As it turned out, their stop in Shrewsbury was brief, but she got to see Alex’s brother, Roger, who she had not seen since she left Talisand for Wales. His chestnut hair, the same color as his father’s, made him look much like the Red Wolf, save for his brown eyes.

Their host, the old earl, Roger de Montgomerie, had begged his friend, Earl Renaud, for time to show them the Benedictine Abbey he had founded. Merewyn was glad Earl Roger prevailed.

Talisand had a beautiful stone chapel built by Lady Serena’s father, but it paled in comparison to the church at Shrewsbury. At least four times larger, the abbey church dedicated to Saint Peter had massive rounded stone arches the chapel in Talisand lacked. A long walk on a gray stone floor led to the magnificent nave with tall windows that allowed light to flood the church.

“ ’Tis another Norman cathedral that replaced a Saxon church,” remarked Lady Serena, “but this one is beautiful.”

When Merewyn told Alex it was not like any she had ever seen, he was quick to reply. “Westminster Abbey in London is even more magnificent. ’Tis much larger and grander than this one. The Conqueror himself was crowned there as was his son.”

CHAPTER 6

A foreboding like a black cloud hovered over Alex as they entered London, riding down the Strand toward the palace. It had naught to do with the dark sky above threatening rain, the foul-smelling mud splashing onto Azor’s withers, or the dirty, narrow streets with their buildings pressed closely together.

The cause of it, he knew, was the king.

With his notorious temper and his strange proclivities, many knights disdained the royal court. In private he could be easy, tossing off jests as one given to frivolity, however, in public and when angry, he was given to fits of temper accompanied by stuttering. At times, William was barely able to converse. Then he would turn savagely cruel, seeking to intimidate those around him. Only on the battlefield could William Rufus be counted upon to act the leader of men like his father, appreciating boldness in others.

With Alex, the king had been generous. But what would he be with Merewyn?

If he could, Alex would spare her and his mother the evenings at court. But since they had come to London, their presence at court would be expected. While his father, who had attended the king before, would find little surprising, the women would be shocked at what they might see. For Merewyn, there was also danger. And not just from the king. Ranulf, the king’s priest and advisor, ruthlessly pursued any beautiful woman he desired. Against both Alex vowed to guard her well.

Their party numbered more than a dozen since Earl Hugh and a few of his men had joined them in Chester. Alex was always amazed the earl could still sit a horse since he had grown corpulent, not unlike the Conqueror in the years before his death.

Alex remembered those years and the hectic days that followed the king’s deathbed confession in Normandy. Once William Rufus learned he was to have England, he had made haste to cross the Channel and claim the crown, taking Alex with him. Upon their arrival, the new king had knighted Alex, then only eighteen.

The hooves of their horses splashed dirty water from the muddy puddles as they headed toward the River Thames.

“Our house should be ready to receive us,” he said to his father, riding next to him. “I asked the king’s messenger who came to Talisand to assure it was so when he reached London.”

Talisand’s lord raised a brow. “The king’s messenger does your bidding?”

Alex smiled to himself as he remembered why the man had so quickly agreed, for Alex had once defended him before the king. “He owed me a favor.”

His father’s expression was assessing. Alex knew him well enough he did not fear him like he had once feared Earl Hugh, but it was still true that the knight called the Red Wolf could terrify weaker men with just a look. “ ’Tis well and good our lodgings are ready. I would not want to try and find rooms at the king’s palace.”

“Aye, ’twill be crowded,” said Alex.