Read Online Blood Lance by Jeri Westerson - Free Book Online Page B

enough,” Crispin amended.
    “And the joust,” offered Jack. “Don’t forget that.”
    “The joust?” asked Crispin.
    “I heard it a day or two ago. There’s to be a joust on London Bridge. For the knights who were left behind to guard the city, so they say.”
    Crispin snorted. “Beguilements in a time of war? Yes, more distractions indeed.” So that was why the bridge folk were washing their walls and hanging garlands. The constant noise of hammering made sense, too, for viewing stands needed to be constructed.
    Gilbert slammed his hand to the table. “Then all those stores he bid us buy? Useless!”
    “Not so, Gilbert. You will make use of it. Eventually.”
    “Pfft. I could have spared the expense. Now the prices are high due to lack of supply. I have as little patience for these games as does this new council.”
    Crispin sipped the wine, easing the tension in his limbs. “Did you by any chance hear who is on this council?”
    “I have heard that the Archbishop of Canterbury is in the retinue.”
    Jack gasped and Crispin silenced him with a gesture. Gilbert looked from Jack to Crispin. “Oi Crispin. You were in Canterbury last year. Did you … acquaint yourself with the archbishop, by any chance?”
    Jack snorted loudly but that was all Gilbert needed.
    “Not the archbishop!” he rasped. “Crispin, have you not enough enemies?”
    “Then what’s one more?” He smiled and took a drink, licking his lips.
    Gilbert shook his head and rubbed nervously at his brown beard. “Crispin, I wish you’d have a better care. This tracking has made you hasty, foolhardy even. You cannot afford to offend the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
    “I think that ship has sailed, Gilbert. But what more have you heard? With Lancaster out of the way, I am concerned as to what might transpire in the government when he is not here to crush dissenters.”
    Gilbert scooted closer. “Dissenters? Crispin, what do you think this council means to do?”
    “Who else is on the council?”
    “I only heard a few names. The king’s uncles, the duke of Gloucester and the duke of York. Richard, earl of Arundel. Oh, and Richard, Lord Scrope. He was Lord Chancellor before, was he not? He would know if anything was amiss.”
    “Indeed. An august body. Well, knowing what I do about the players, they mean to punish Suffolk by impeachment.”
    Gilbert gasped.
    “The king must be reminded of his limits and responsibilities and that he is obliged to consult with Parliament,” Crispin went on, “especially when excessive household funds have been spent. They can’t punish the king so they diminish his favorite. From what I know of Richard, he believes himself to be an infallible judge, like the early kings of Briton. He has never learned that those days are long gone.”
    “But he is the king. The anointed of God.”
    “Yes, that is true. But the barons imposed limits centuries ago to prevent the indulgence of favors over the well-being of the country. Has he forgotten so soon the sins of his great-grandfather, Edward II?”
    “Hush, Crispin!” Gilbert looked around and crouched his bulky frame low over the table. “Talk of the late King Edward could be considered treason in these worrisome days.”
    Crispin raised a brow. But he made a hasty scan of the room nonetheless. Edward II was deposed and murdered for his ignorance of his responsibilities. He, too, favored men who did not earn their station. He supposed throwing the name around at this juncture might be too bold, but he was past caring what the nobility thought of him. “I am too well acquainted with treason, as you know, to worry over it now.”
    A hand clutched his arm. “Master Crispin, Gilbert’s right,” said Jack. “There’s no need to bring unwanted attention to you, sir.”
    Crispin drank down the bowl of wine, but Jack filled it again. “There will be discord until this is resolved. Perhaps it is a good thing that you bought extra stores, Gilbert.”
    “If