* * * * * That night, Raymond of Lowick rapped at the door of the Bishop of Durham's sumptuous house near Westminster. An armed guard opened it, doubtless necessary for such an unpopular person. Since coming to London, Raymond had realized just how unpopular Flambard was. He wished he didn't have to deal with such a man, but who else could support him against William of Brome?
It was for Jehanne, he reminded himself. Beautiful Jehanne, who had been forced into her marriage even though she was as good as betrothed to himself. After all, old Fulk had mentioned it a time or two.
And now she was in danger. Galeran was surely only biding his time. He'd shown his true feelings when he'd struck Jehanne down. Raymond cursed the fact that he'd left her behind to face such violence.
And what of the child? Raymond was genuinely fond of the babe, or as fond as any man could be of such a tiny creature. She was his first child as far as he knew, and he felt honor bound to protect her. Galeran was a good man, but no man could forget the origins of such an infant. At his most merciful, he'd give her to some peasant to raise.
Raymond wished it need not come to death, but feared there was no other way. He knew of no other way to protect Jehanne and Donata.
And to have Heywood. That was a less noble goal, he knew, but it burned in him all the same.
Just as King Henry had thought England his from birth, Raymond had thought Heywood his from the moment Fulk's last son had died. He was Fulk's favorite. He was acknowledged to be one of the finest young warriors in the north. Who else deserved to marry Jehanne?
When Fulk's interest had turned to Brome, Raymond had fanned his friend Eustace's faint interest in the holy war against the Moors. It had been easy enough, and had left the coast clear.
Or so he'd thought.
To see Heywood and Jehanne presented to that scrawny runt Galeran had almost made him choke on his bile. It wasn't right. It couldn't be right. God had showed that by denying Galeran a son until the crusade, and then by taking that son to give Raymond his chance.
As Raymond was ushered into the presence of the bishop, he was firm once more in his belief. It was God's will that he have Heywood, Jehanne, and Donata. Even at the cost of Galeran of Heywood's life.
"My lord bishop, welcome back to London. . . ."
* * * * * It took Galeran and Raoul half the next morning to progress out of the walled city and along the long curve of the Thames to Westminster Hall, where the king kept his household and held court. The churned-up road was thick with lordly trains, hopeful merchants, and the merely curious. The congestion was worsened by unauthorized stalls lining every road, and by a small army of beggars.
The river might be an alternate route, except that it, too, was crowded with all manner of vessel, and thus much more hazardous.
Troops of soldiers regularly forced through the crowds to knock down the stalls and chase off the beggars, but as soon as the guards moved on, the hawkers and mendicants popped back, crying out to the passing lords so the noise seemed a physical presence.
It was like swimming through mud, thought Galeran dazedly, tossing some coins to a cripple who looked genuine - surely those scarred stubs where her legs had been couldn't be fake.
Eventually, however, they emerged into the open space around the great Westminster Hall and its sister building, King Edward's noble abbey. Here, too, people gathered in huge numbers, but the space could accommodate them and their noise.
Where did so many hawkers come from? Galeran wondered as a man thrust horse bells at him, extolling their quality. Create a crowd, and the people who catered to crowds popped up as if sprouting from dragon's teeth.
There was a kind of organization here, though. A number of well- disciplined men-at-arms patrolled the area, and temporary stables had been set up to one side for the lordly visitors' mounts. The merely curious and the more unruly sellers were regularly driven back out of this enclave into the jammed streets.
With space to breathe, Galeran began to find all this interesting. He'd been to London only once - to join the crusade. This time, however, the atmosphere