Warrior's Ransom (The First Argentines #2) - Jeff Wheeler Page 0,7

a fool. I want you on my council. That is my true mesnie. You’ll be starting your own mesnie now. You couldn’t have returned at a more useful time. I’m about to invade the Vexin, but now it might not be necessary.”

Ransom blinked in surprise. “The Vexin? Doesn’t your son . . . ?”

“You’ve been gone a great while. Come, let’s introduce you to the rest of the council.” He grabbed Ransom by the arm and led him to a long table where the nobles had seated themselves with their food.

“Kinghorn . . . Constable . . . you already know him,” he said, gesturing to the man who had overseen Ransom’s training as a knight. Ransom barely had time to nod to him before the king moved on to the next man. “That is Duke Wigant. His son, a good friend of yours—am I correct?” He uttered a wicked laugh.

“I remember Sir Ransom,” said the older duke with a glint in his eyes.

“Duke Ashel of Stowe,” said the king, continuing around the table. “Duke Rainor of Southport. Also on the council are Sir Iain, you already know him, and Lady Deborah of Thorngate castle. Her husband was a great advisor to me, until he got the pox and died, and then I discovered that all of his best ideas came from her!”

Lady Deborah was a diminutive woman with gray-streaked hair the color of hazelnuts, but she seemed completely undaunted by the many large men around her, Ransom included. She gave him a gracious smile.

“And there, of course, is my chief steward, Simon of Holmberg, who you already know as well. See? We are all acquainted already.”

Ransom’s attention had been so firmly fixed on the king that he hadn’t noticed Simon until he was named. Sir Simon was several years older than him, but they’d become friends and allies while serving the Younger King. Indeed, it was Simon who had brought him news of the Younger King’s final illness. They exchanged smiles.

“And he will join the council of a sudden?” asked Duke Ashel with a hint of challenge in his voice.

“Didn’t I just say that?” asked the king. “Stop eating and pay attention. He served my son, and now he will serve the sire. Simon, he already has some land in Occitania, but find him a castle here too. One of mine, of course. He’ll need a wife. One of the royal wards will do, and another ward to stay at the castle.”

Duke Wigant’s hands closed into fists. The duke’s reaction only buoyed the hopeful thoughts surging through Ransom, for he knew James had always had an interest in Claire. Would the king finally allow him to court her?

“I propose that we send Ransom to the Vexin to deliver a message to my truculent son. If anyone else, it would only rouse Benedict’s scorn. I must be honest, none of you intimidates him as much as Ransom does. He’ll need an escort of knights, of course. Bryon, how many do you recommend?”

“I should think fifty would be a significant show of force,” said Lord Kinghorn. He had a wary look in his eyes. In fact, they all seemed uncomfortable with the king’s suggestions.

“I agree. More than that and he’ll treat it as an invading force. Make the arrangements.”

“I will, Devon,” said Lord Kinghorn.

“Good.” The king clapped his hands, his face bright with eagerness. “I have work that must get done, but we will meet again for dinner.” He draped his arm around Ransom’s neck and thumped him hard on the back. “I’ve not felt this good in a while. Yes, this marks a change in the waters. I can feel it in these old bones!”

“My lord,” Ransom said, trying not to stutter. He regretted that he had to voice his private feelings in front of the council, but there was no way around it. It seemed unlikely the king would provide him with a private meeting, and he dare not waste the opportunity. “Another reason I returned to Kingfountain was to see my friend, Claire de Murrow.”

The king’s brow narrowed. “You knew each other as children, did you not?”

“Yes, we both grew up in the castle.”

“I see. That nonsense will not do. I’ve promised her to my son Jon-Landon. Let me douse any ardor you may still have with a bucket of cold reality. A match with her will never, ever happen. She’s much too valuable to me.”

Ransom’s heart clenched. Disappointment was bitter in his mouth. “Does she not have