Belaset's Daughter - By Feona J Hamilton Page 0,128

falcon house. He stopped in the middle of the castle green and said to Jervis, "I have enjoyed meeting you, Jervis, and talking of falcons with you. The next time I go out hunting with my bird, I should be pleased to see you among the party of my companions."

Jervis stammered his thanks. Prince Edward smiled graciously and beckoned to de Warenne.

"Let us return to your chamber and refresh ourselves with some wine," he said, and strolled off, leaving Jervis beaming with pride and joy. This was something to tell his friends! Prince Edward had invited him personally to go hunting with him! He must tell Madeleine at once, he thought, and set off in the direction of her chamber.

* * *

In his priory lodgings, the King was still fuming and raging. Richard, his brother, was not even trying to calm him, knowing that the King s rages must run their course. He waited, listening, as Henry called down imprecations of de Montfort and his supporters.

"The man is insufferable!" roared Henry, stamping up and down, red in the face. "He would send his King an ultimatum, offer money, and protest his loyalty! Ha! A man who BOSON BOOKS

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will not acknowledge that I and only I, am ruler of this country! A man who dares to tell me that he is right and I am wrong!"

He whirled round as a frightened manservant entered with a jug of wine, which he went to set on the table.

"Who sent you in here?" he shouted, his voice cracking with rage. "Out! out!"

The man backed out again, hurriedly, clutching the jug to his chest in both hands, as if to protect himself.

"This Earl of Leicester would be King as well as us!" continued Henry. He stood, chest heaving, clenching and unclenching his fists. "He comes against me with his followers, and brings a rabble against me against his King! And still professing loyalty and fealty!"

He could not go on, but stood, his face dark, his body rigid, glaring at nothing. Slowly, his breathing slowed. His face lost the dark suffused aspect it had borne as the rage within him cooled. Henry s anger, though awful to behold, could not sustain itself at such a level for long.

He strode to his former place in the window, and flung himself down, gazing moodily out over the flat land outside the Priory walls.

Richard said nothing for a few moments but, as the silence continued, he spoke.

"Shall we follow after their messengers and surprise them?" he said. "They will not expect us to react so swiftly."

"Not yet," said Henry, obstinately. "If they wish to fight, then let them await my pleasure. We will carry the day, whatever happens. How can an ill-disciplined rabble come against the armies of the King and win?"

He grinned ferociously at his brother.

"We shall fight them tomorrow let us tell all who are with us to prepare!"

He crossed to the door and flung it open, startling the guard outside so thoroughly that the man cried out and jumped visibly.

"Find me clerks and send for messengers," said the King, peremptorily to the room at large.

It was done in minutes. Messages were prepared and sent to the Castle and to the leaders of the army encamped outside. There was a stir as men began to ready themselves, and a buzz of conversation as the news spread. At last, the climax was approaching.

There was to be no more discussion, no more chasing around the countryside, no more playing and hunting. The King had decided they would fight on the morrow! Even those with sore heads from their exertions of the previous night welcomed the news. Their King needed them to fight for his honour, and the honour of England, they were told. They were fighting to protect their country and their King from traitors. Simon de Montfort BOSON BOOKS

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and his followers were wrong and the King (of course) was right! Theirs would be an easy victory, for the victory always went to those who were in the right.

All day they prepared, barely stopping to eat. Archers checked their longbows and made sure of a supply of arrows. Squires polished their masters helmets, and checked the chainmail that would be worn, to ensure that there were no weak links. Sempstresses checked the surcotes worn by the Knights, to ensure that their arms would be visible to all, and indicate that they were not the enemy. In the forges, the blacksmiths made sure that all horses were shod.

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