time, Lady Lewena spoke. Her voice was deeper than that of most women, but as gentle as a summer breeze, and grave with concern.
“The Lady Ysane lies in her bower, gravely ill,” Fallard said, then added hastily, as they both tensed and glared at him, “though not by my hand. Please, be at ease. I will tell you what I know.”
He signaled to the servants to bring more wine, then related recent events. As the story progressed, Randel’s expression grew ever more wrathful, while that of his lady was stunned with horror. When Fallard told of the murder of the babe, of Lady Ysane’s imprisonment and the intent to execute her at first light this very morn, his account was interrupted by a sharp cry from Lady Lewena. Her face had gone white, the blood leached from even her lips. Distress shone deep in her beautiful dark eyes.
Randel clasped his wife’s hand. He barely waited for Fallard to finish ere he spoke, his tones limned with outrage. “Renouf! That worthless scum! Ever did he act the coward and the knave, and now his brother, no better. It seems clear now he wished us not to arrive until his villainous deeds were accomplished. But what fool is he that he thought to set himself up as the new lord, when he knows only King William may appoint him thus?”
“Sir Ruald is well thought of at court. ’Tis my thought he believed that did he become the sitting lord by the time news of Renouf’s death reached the king, William would appoint him. Ruald concocted a tissue of lies regarding all that occurred, and with none to speak the wiser, he must have assumed William would grant his request. ’Tis unfortunate for Ruald both he and Renouf were unaware—and to my knowledge, Ruald remains yet unaware—the king knew of their involvement with the Saxon insurrections in this part of the land. That is why I am here.”
Randel’s eyes narrowed. “I feared as much. King William has kept his word to leave to themselves those who honor their oath to him. He would have sent not his knights to Wulfsinraed without certain knowledge of treason.” He gazed into the fire for a long moment, then sighed. “I suspected the brothers were behind the rebellion in this region, but could gain no proof. I warned Renouf once he would be punished beyond bearing were William to learn he was involved. He but laughed and said even if there was aught to learn, the king would never be able to prove it.” He glanced at Fallard, the intelligence in his eyes sharp. “Does Sir Ruald yet live?”
“Aye. I hold him and his men for transport to London.” Fallard held Randel’s clear gaze and decided some measure of trust would go not awry. “He will face trial for his part in the rebellion, and for the attempted murder of Lady Ysane and those hearth companions loyal to her. He usurped William’s authority in these matters, rendering his actions treason. His execution is all but certain.”
Randel winced. “Aye, ’tis the usual penalty, though not the only one. Yet, with the attempted murder of the wife of a noble added to the charge, he will be fortunate to suffer the quicker death of beheading. I understand not the false wisdom of continuing the rebellion. In the twelvemonths since Santlache, it has become a matter of certitude that naught can stop the advance of Norman rule over England. William rules with a fist of steel and has too thoroughly consolidated his control. I believe his throne is now unassailable.” He looked at Fallard. “I am as loyal to my country as any man. I fought with King Harold at the ridge of Santlache, that you call in your tongue Sanguelac, and even for a time after William’s coronation. But I am no fool, and only lackwits fight a battle already long lost. Mayhap, were it only myself, I might have considered it, but I would risk not my beloved wife and children on what I know to be a dullard’s folly.”
“It pleases me to hear your thoughts on this matter, Thegn Randel.”
Lady Lewena’s quiet voice
“The Lady Ysane lies in her bower, gravely ill,” Fallard said, then added hastily, as they both tensed and glared at him, “though not by my hand. Please, be at ease. I will tell you what I know.”
He signaled to the servants to bring more wine, then related recent events. As the story progressed, Randel’s expression grew ever more wrathful, while that of his lady was stunned with horror. When Fallard told of the murder of the babe, of Lady Ysane’s imprisonment and the intent to execute her at first light this very morn, his account was interrupted by a sharp cry from Lady Lewena. Her face had gone white, the blood leached from even her lips. Distress shone deep in her beautiful dark eyes.
Randel clasped his wife’s hand. He barely waited for Fallard to finish ere he spoke, his tones limned with outrage. “Renouf! That worthless scum! Ever did he act the coward and the knave, and now his brother, no better. It seems clear now he wished us not to arrive until his villainous deeds were accomplished. But what fool is he that he thought to set himself up as the new lord, when he knows only King William may appoint him thus?”
“Sir Ruald is well thought of at court. ’Tis my thought he believed that did he become the sitting lord by the time news of Renouf’s death reached the king, William would appoint him. Ruald concocted a tissue of lies regarding all that occurred, and with none to speak the wiser, he must have assumed William would grant his request. ’Tis unfortunate for Ruald both he and Renouf were unaware—and to my knowledge, Ruald remains yet unaware—the king knew of their involvement with the Saxon insurrections in this part of the land. That is why I am here.”
Randel’s eyes narrowed. “I feared as much. King William has kept his word to leave to themselves those who honor their oath to him. He would have sent not his knights to Wulfsinraed without certain knowledge of treason.” He gazed into the fire for a long moment, then sighed. “I suspected the brothers were behind the rebellion in this region, but could gain no proof. I warned Renouf once he would be punished beyond bearing were William to learn he was involved. He but laughed and said even if there was aught to learn, the king would never be able to prove it.” He glanced at Fallard, the intelligence in his eyes sharp. “Does Sir Ruald yet live?”
“Aye. I hold him and his men for transport to London.” Fallard held Randel’s clear gaze and decided some measure of trust would go not awry. “He will face trial for his part in the rebellion, and for the attempted murder of Lady Ysane and those hearth companions loyal to her. He usurped William’s authority in these matters, rendering his actions treason. His execution is all but certain.”
Randel winced. “Aye, ’tis the usual penalty, though not the only one. Yet, with the attempted murder of the wife of a noble added to the charge, he will be fortunate to suffer the quicker death of beheading. I understand not the false wisdom of continuing the rebellion. In the twelvemonths since Santlache, it has become a matter of certitude that naught can stop the advance of Norman rule over England. William rules with a fist of steel and has too thoroughly consolidated his control. I believe his throne is now unassailable.” He looked at Fallard. “I am as loyal to my country as any man. I fought with King Harold at the ridge of Santlache, that you call in your tongue Sanguelac, and even for a time after William’s coronation. But I am no fool, and only lackwits fight a battle already long lost. Mayhap, were it only myself, I might have considered it, but I would risk not my beloved wife and children on what I know to be a dullard’s folly.”
“It pleases me to hear your thoughts on this matter, Thegn Randel.”
Lady Lewena’s quiet voice
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