If My Heart Could See You (The MacLarens 1)

Thirty-six

Candles lit the large room in the west wing of the White Tower, filling it with a smoky haze that floated to the ceiling high above the heads of those gathered there. The richness of the room was evident everywhere one cared to look, and ’twas obvious King Henry II was in residence at the Tower of London. Wine flowed freely, and servants ran to fill empty chalices upon demand. There was no lack of food to fill their hungry stomachs, and ’twas all at the expense of the monarch. What was there not to love about being at court?

Overcrowded as they waited for an audience with the king, men and women mingled amongst themselves whilst a few musicians played for their amusement and pleasure. For the women, they could care less that the lute players performed most wondrously. They were too busy whispering in hushed tones the latest gossip holding their interest at court. In turn, the men conspired greedily with one another to form alliances in their quests to acquire more land and power. If their conversations waivered from this subject, ’twas to speak of their mistresses or on the recent turn of events in the latest war against the Welsh.

’Twas in this very room that Dristan and Ian kept close vigil of the intrigues playing out around them and running rampant like a plague to those not careful to evade its clutches. As Dristan gazed about the room, a small grin formed on his face. ’Twas not so long ago that he himself would have been amongst those enjoying the pleasures of court and what the ladies here freely offered for a night in his bed. Glancing about the chamber, he noticed one lady in particular whose favor he had tasted of. She waved at him, but Dristan did not so much as acknowledge that he saw her.

Much had changed at court, or mayhap, ’twas he who had changed now that he had a lovely wife waiting for him at home. If it had not been for the summons he had received from King Henry, Dristan would still have been happily enjoying wedded bliss with Amiria by his side. Now, looking around, he could only despise those at court and the games they played. The sooner his audience was over with the king, the sooner he could return back to his estate and Amiria. ’Twas only the thought of his wife and what he was missing without her nearness that surely kept his sanity in check. He had not thought that he would miss her so.

Two women passed by Dristan and Ian and, from their flirtatious stares, ’twas evident the two men would have been welcomed into their beds this night. Their giggles reached them when they stopped a short distance away. Snapping open their fans, their eyes raked over Dristan’s body. His bored stance from their obvious antics did not deter their eagerness in attempting to capture his attention. One even dared much when she asked her companion loud enough to be heard if she thought Dristan of Blackmore was well endowed since the rest of him was so impressive.

“Merde! I am not sure how much more of this I can take,” Dristan complained, wearily as he scanned the room again, ignoring the women’s pouts. “How could I forget how annoying court life can be?”

“’Tis no small wonder I stay in the north. This is no place for me, my lord, no matter the offerings that are freely presented,” Ian murmured as his eyes raked the two nearby women. He presented them a slight smile and was encouraged when they both returned it. “Mayhap a small dalliance with one of those fair ladies would appease my desire for a willing woman and ease my memories.”

“Be careful, my friend, lest you take what belongs to another,” Dristan warned. “One damsel, although quite beautiful, belongs to the Earl of Brindle. He is a close friend of the king, or so I have heard, and one not to anger. I understand him to be very possessive of his wife. ’Tis common knowledge a man or two has met their demise at the end of his blade for just the offense of a mere glance towards his lady.”

“They both may still be worth the risk,” Ian replied, ignoring Dristan’s cautious words of advice.

“’Tis your head,” Dristan returned and watched in amusement as Ian’s face changed with the thought of his head being lopped off. “I thought you might change your mind,” he continued with a chuckle.

“You might as well have tossed me in the Thames, my lord. I can almost feel the cold chill of an axe against my neck.”

Dristan laughed and clapped his hand upon Ian’s shoulder. “Do not despair, Ian. I am sure you will find your needs well met soon enough.”

Ian grumbled something unintelligible and motioned for his chalice to be refilled. A servant obliged him and he began to drink his fill of the heady wine.

Conversations that were but a moment ago filling the room were quickly silenced as an antechamber door was opened to reveal King Henry and King William of Scotland entering the room. The women sank into a deep courtesy whilst the men bowed afore their king. The two men both bore solemn expressions whilst they made their way to a raised dais where chairs had been set aside for them to take their ease.

King Henry motioned for all to rise and the conversations resumed at a quieter level. He whispered to his man, who then straightened to scan the room.

“Dristan of Blackmore,” the man called, the sound carrying throughout the room.

Dristan made his way through the crowd with Ian following behind. He bowed low, giving homage to his king afore rising.

“Ah, Dristan,” King Henry said with his soft French accent. He leaned over to King William. “Dristan has been a most valuable knight to my cause in vanquishing those who rise up against me,” he praised, watching King William’s reaction to his words, who only nodded and kept his own counsel. Returning his attention back to Dristan, the king continued. “Allow me to introduce you to King William of Scotland who is my . . . guest.”

“Your Majesties,” Dristan said, bowing. “May I present Sir Ian, recent guardsman at Berwyck Castle?”  He gave Ian a slight nudge, spurring his companion to bow.

“Aye . . . aye,” Henry replied off handedly. He rose since he had a restless spirit and did not care to sit lest he was eating. “Come gentlemen and walk with me.”

Dristan and Ian followed the king, who made his way from the room whilst all bowed when he left. They did not go far, and yet they found themselves surprisingly in a relatively large chapel inside the White Tower.

The king turned and clasped his hands behind his back, rocking to and fro upon his heals. “So tell me good sir . . . what brings you this far from Berwyck? I would have thought you to be enjoying wedded bliss by now Dristan with the fair Lady Amiria. Tell me I shall not be disappointed in you and the directives I gave you?”

“Nay, sire. All is well and we but wed recently.”

“She is a fine match for you. Have you tamed that wild side to her nature then?”

Dristan looked stunned that he would think such a thing. “Nay, Your Grace. I find her most pleasing just the way she is.”

Henry smiled as he stroked his chin. “Ah then ’tis now a love match. Good! I knew you would be the best Lord for Berwyck. Such good news. So what, pray tell, would take you from your lovely wife’s side and bring you to court amongst all those vipers that bow, paying me homage, and yet still conspire against me behind my back? Speaking of vipers, I hope you have Sir Hugh in line?”

Dristan and Ian looked at each other surprised at the king’s words. “My liege, I came at your bequest.”

“I have not ordered you to come afore me.”

“My pardon, Your Majesty,” Dristan said, reaching inside his cloak, “but I received your missive stating ’twas most urgent I travel to London.”

Henry reached for the parchment, turning it over. “I did not send this to you Dristan. The seal is a close resemblance to be sure, but this is neither my writing nor my scribe’s.” The king handed the parchment back and Dristan took it, frowning.

“I am a bit bemused then, Sire.”

“Aye, well, I may not have sent this, but I did receive a message from your man Sir Hugh, stating how you were raiding the villages in your hamlets. I have been most suspicious of Sir Hugh’s motives of late,” Henry said with a wave of his hand. “I knew his words to be false and assumed you would handle such matters as you saw fit, since you have never failed me afore. Killing your own serfs is not in your nature, despite your fierce reputation otherwise.”

“I am honored at your confidence in me, my liege,” Dristan said humbly. “I fear that Hugh may be up to more mischief than I realized, since he went missing err I left Berwyck. With your permission, I shall leave at once to ensure all is secure in your name.”

“But of course. I will send extra men with you just in case you are in need of them,” the king replied. They began striding their way back to those milling around for his attention. He spoke briefly with his aid, who scurried away to relay the king’s message to his soldiers.

Henry came to the raised dais and took his dress sword from his belt. “Afore you go, Dristan, I must bestow something upon you, if you would but humor me.”

“I am ever at your service, my liege.”

“Such loyalty over the years should not go unrewarded. Take a knee my valiant and trustworthy knight, and forevermore shall you be titled Lord Dristan Blackmore, first Earl of Berwyck.”

Dristan knelt afore his king and bowed his head as Henry tapped both shoulders with his sword. Stunned, he was told to rise, and he did so whilst attempting to mask his shock of what had just occurred. Mon dieu, he thought. I’ve just been branded an Earl.

“Now, my friend, get thee back to Berwyck and especially Sir Hugh,” Henry ordered as he clapped Dristan on his shoulder. “I have confidence you will put all back to order, Lord Dristan.”

“By your leave, Your Majesty,” Dristan replied, bowing once again as Henry waved him on.

Dristan and Ian hastened to depart from the White Tower and more importantly the confines of court life in London. Looking around, he realized King Henry would be giving him an army of at least one hundred men to command. Time was of the essence. He made his way to Thor and vaulted into the saddle. Raising his arm, he signaled the knights to proceed. Slapping his reins, he put his horse into a full gallop.

Dristan felt a desperate urgency Amiria was in need of him and felt compelled to ensure for himself she was safe. May God help any who thought to take that which was his and that most certainly included his wife.