Page 4 of Rogue Knight
“I did not need your visions to know it would be unpleasant,” Geoff protested. “When I saw the messenger ride in through the gate, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. Things around here have too long been quiet.”
Together they crossed the hall and entered the bedchamber sometimes used for visiting nobles. The king himself had stayed there only last year. At one end of the chamber was a large velvet-curtained bed where the Red Wolf was propped up on a mound of pillows, staring out the unshuttered window, frowning.
“Ren?”
The Red Wolf turned his glower on Geoff. “’Tis a dark day that has brought me news from Durham. It will take you back to York, my friend.”
“York?” blurted Geoff. “It has not been a year since we were there and William built his castle. What has happened in Durham that would take me back to York?”
Ren lifted himself onto the pillows, wincing. His chestnut hair fell over his forehead as he slowly let out a breath. “It was as I suspected when we left York last year. The Northumbrians slinked away into the forests, taking their will to rebel with them.”
“Have they returned?” asked Geoff.
“Not to York as far as I know but I believe ’twill be soon. When William replaced Cospatric with Robert de Comines as Earl of Northumbria, it appears our sire made a bad choice.”
“He is a Fleming,” muttered Geoff. “We have seen what the Flemish mercenaries did in the South. They came not to settle as we did, but to pillage.”
“Aye, ’twould seem Robert de Comines’ men were of the same cloth,” declared Ren. “A fortnight ago, the new earl and his mercenaries cut a swath of misery and death on their way north to Durham.”
“Mon Dieu,” Geoff hissed. “Northumbria will again be in turmoil.”
“The news is worse.” Ren’s frown deepened. “When the word of Comines’ ravaging the countryside reached the men of Durham, they thought to flee but a heavy snow blocked their retreat, forcing them to fight. They set fire to the house where Comines was staying. Those of the earl’s retinue that did not perish in the blaze died by the sword—including the earl.”
“Merde!” Geoff cursed. “What a fool Comines was to let his mercenaries loose on the town. ’Tis no surprise the people rose against him.”
“The messenger hinted of rumors that have spread following the uprising. Edgar Ætheling, the man the English consider heir to the throne, is on the move. Word has it he has left his refuge in Scotland, accompanied by Cospatric and that rich Dane, Maerleswein.” Ren shook his head. “I suppose they are encouraged by what happened in Durham.”
“Did the messenger say where they were headed?”
“The rumors say York.”
Maugris, who had been silently listening, spoke, his wizened voice sounding like a harbinger of doom. “Ancient enemies have come together to rise against a common foe.”
“So it would seem,” Geoff murmured in resigned acceptance. “And we Frenchmen are the foe.”
“As you might expect,” said Ren, “William summons us to York, along with his knights and men-at-arms we shelter. You must lead them, Geoff, for I cannot.”
Regret flickered in the eyes of his friend. Geoff recognized it for he would have felt the same had he been forced to stay behind. “I will gladly go in your stead.”
The Red Wolf nodded his acceptance of what he could not change. “Do you remember William Malet, my old friend who fought with us at Hastings?”
“Aye, I remember him,” replied Geoff. “William appointed him Sheriff of York just as we left the city last year.”
“No doubt he will be pleased to see you with what he is facing.” Ren stared into space once again, seeing something Geoff did not. “His hands will be full if the Northumbrians rise under Edgar’s banner. The thegns of York have been waiting for the young Ætheling to return. He will draw many to their cause.”
“William will stand for no king in England save himself,” Geoff insisted.
Ren shook his head in dismay. “Yea, and York is important to our sovereign. The messenger said William already marches north. He will have a battle on his hands when he gets there. I thought it a possibility when his victory at York last year came too easily. The Northumbrians with their Danish connections may yet hope to carve out a northern kingdom as they did in the past.”
“If that be true, the people of York have much to fear,” replied Geoff. “It will not be pleasant for them when William arrives to exact his revenge. Does Lady Serena know?”
“Aye, she knows, and is none too pleased that the people of York are threatened by William’s army. You know well how she feels about our sire.”
From behind Geoff, Maugris spoke. “William is a great king, but terrible in his wrath. He cares more for his crown and his treasures than the people he would rule. I fear for him on Judgment Day when the Master of the Heavens holds him accountable for his cruelty and his slaying of little ones.”
“Little ones?” Geoff protested. “I have yet to see William’s knights raise their swords against children.”
Maugris’ eyes fixed on some unknown point as he gazed out the window. “In my visions I have seen it. And though horrible, it did not surprise me. When defied, William can become a great destroyer, ripping off limbs, blinding eyes and laying waste to all in his path. This time, William will show the people of York no mercy.”
