time you have been in Normandy, armies have moved, towns and cities have been besieged—most by men who either know FitzRandwulf on sight or by reputation. For all that he rubs your fur the wrong way, little kitten, he is also known as a friend to their cause and would not attract the same hostilities as our own Pembroke lion might.”
“A friend to their cause? He would see Normandy split from England? He would throw his lot with King Philip of France?”
“It is not so much a case of throwing his lot with Philip, as it is a case of not throwing his lot with King John.”
“In other words, he cannot make up his mind? He has not the courage of his convictions to make one clear choice over another? You would trust a man like this with our defense?”
“FitzRandwulf’s courage has never been questioned. He has fought long and hard with his conscience, as have we all. He supported Arthur’s claim to the throne, yet for honour’s sake, not only had to help bring the young prince to his knees at Mirebeau, but he then had to stand aside and watch the duke be led away to his doom. To have done otherwise would have broken faith with his father—another man of immeasurably tormented loyalties, bounden by blood oath unto the dowager, yet more than eager to see John crushed by his own corrupted powers.”
“The dowager is very old, is she not?”
“She has seen eight decades pass by.”
In a time when most people rarely lived to see half that many years, Ariel could not begin to comprehend Eleanor of Aquitaine’s longevity. “Surely she will have to die some day. What will happen then?”
“The heavy chains that hold both the Wolf and his Cub will snap and methinks our good and brave King John will feel the reverberations from whatever hole he finds to crawl into.”
“La Seyne Sur Mer has this much power?”
“He has the power to strike fear into men’s hearts, aye, and such power cannot be taken lightly, even though he does so himself.”
“You have just as much power, do you not?”
William saw where her questions were leading and he sighed, feeling suddenly far too old and weary to deal with the pride he saw in his niece’s eyes.
“’Tis true, I wield enough to give the odd man cause to squeeze a clod of dung into his braies now and then. ’Tis also true I could give Henry and Sedrick writs of safe passage across Normandy and across the Channel into England. It is not true, sadly, that I could guarantee these writs would be honoured by the lords who seek to sharpen the blade that rests across John’s neck. I am still the king’s man in their eyes. Taking my niece and nephew hostage could put quite a feather in the caps of those who would use such leverage against me.”
“They would not dare!” she gasped.
“If they would dare open rebellion against their king, they would indeed dare to use an impulsive pair of truants against the king’s marshal. Especially if those truants were themselves defying the king’s orders.”
The seriousness of her uncle’s words sent her heart plummeting into her belly like a rock thrown into a pond. “I did not know,” she whispered in horror. “I did not even think! Supposing someone does capture us? Supposing someone does recognize us …?”
“Precautions will be taken to guard against that happening. When you leave here, you must travel in absolute anonymity, keeping to the crooked, less frequented roads, and in as nondescript a manner as possible. Henry has suggested, since you made such a fine squire on the way to Normandy, you might make an equally good one on the way back. Above all, you must obey FitzRandwulf’s orders to the letter, for if anyone can see you safely through, he can.”
Ariel chewed her lip until she drew blood. “We were foolish for coming here, were we not?”
William laid his hand on her cheek. “Would that I could tell you otherwise, but you followed your heart and who can say that it is always such a foolish thing to do?”
“It was not my heart so much as my pride.”
“Ah, well. There you have the downfall of us all. But take cheer, all is not lost yet. Nor will it be, praise God, if FitzRandwulf can see his mission safely through.”
Ariel studied the crags and creases of her uncle’s face, noticing for the first time the deeply etched lines