Lady of the English - By Elizabeth Chadwick Page 0,169

crossings to their supplies in Normandy.

Indeed, Will thought, his wife would be furious, which was one reason he had not written to tell her where he was, although of course she would find out and he would have to weather the storm when he returned home.

He had tried to dissuade Stephen from taking over the abbey, but the king had been adamant. He said he would compensate the nuns in due course, but he needed the buildings. It had been pointless to argue because the bishop of Winchester had been present and had made no protest, and since he was the papal legate, and had ultimate authority, it was a lost cause.

Will had billeted his own troops at Fugglestone, sufficiently removed from the leper hospital to assuage the fears of his men, but not on the nunnery site. It was making a silk purse of a sow’s ear, but at least it had mollified his conscience, as had the four pounds of silver and the cow. He was not afraid of the lepers, as many were, and he did not revile them because all men were sinners and Christ taught that one should have compassion for the afflicted. Adeliza had always concerned herself with the sick and the poor in practical ways and he loved 418

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her dearly for her compassion and dedication. So he talked to the lepers, listened to their stories, and cherished his own good health with renewed thanksgiving.

Back at the camp a summons had arrived from Stephen to attend a council at the abbey. The summons was delivered by Serlo, one of Adeliza’s clerks, who was serving Will on campaign as his scribe. Serlo had been conducting routine business with Stephen’s clerks and reacquainting himself with his birthplace. “It has all changed,” he said morosely. “The house where I was born is no longer there. There’s a new one of stone with a tiled roof when it used to be all timber and thatch.”

“Is that not a good thing?” Will asked, sending a groom to fetch Forcilez.

Serlo grimaced. “I suppose it is, but I always thought my house would be there, even if my parents were not. I expected to see something familiar, and for a moment I did not know who or where I was.”

Will shook his head. “I have come to the conclusion that there is no point dwelling on the past or worrying about the future.”

“There was talk at the clerks’ tables that they’ve sent the boy to Bristol.”

“What boy?” Will said with mild exasperation at Serlo’s habit of leaping from one thought to another.

“The empress’s son. She and the Earl of Gloucester have employed tutors for him—Adelard of Bath no less.” Serlo’s eyes gleamed with admiration. “They have set him up with his own household, so it seems that he is staying for the moment.”

“It is to be expected if they want him to be recognised as heir to the throne, but they have to keep him safe too.”

“The empress’s barons have sworn to recognise him as king when the time comes,” Serlo said. “They held an oath-taking in Devizes at Christmas.”

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“Is there anything you do not know?” The groom arrived with Forcilez and Will turned to mount the stallion.

“I try my best not to leave gaps in my knowledge, sire.” Will grunted with sour amusement.

“Would you swear for him?” Serlo asked curiously.

“Not to the detriment of the king,” Will replied as he swung his leg across the saddle. “Besides, swearing allegiance to an untried child would be leaping out of the cauldron into the fire, would it not?” He wondered if Adeliza had asked Serlo to work on him concerning that particular subject, and thoughtfully eyed the little clerk as he went off on some business at the leper house.

He turned Forcilez towards the abbey, then drew rein as he heard the sound of shouts and the clash of weapons from the direction of the nunnery. His men came hastening from their tents and cooking fires, eyes wide and bodies tense with alarm.

“Arm up and get your horses!” Will commanded. “Martin, see if you can find out what’s happening but don’t take risks.”

“Sire.” A young serjeant saluted and ran to his horse.

Will dismounted and gave Forcilez to the groom. “Hold him while I put on my hauberk.” Cursing under his breath, Will ran to his tent and, with the aid of a squire, swiftly donned his padded undertunic and mail shirt. As