wounded servant at all.
“The prince wants me in London so that Geoff will be forced to support him,” said Will. “The prince wants a hostage.”
“Yes,” said his mother. “He’ll lock you up in the Tower while he delays the trial for weeks—months, if need be. Just long enough to pressure your uncle to back his bid for the throne.”
Will felt his legs go wobbly. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he might have fallen over. There were stories of lordlings who went into the Tower of London and never came out. How had this all happened so fast?
“He’ll lock you up in a room befitting your station, of course,” said his mother. “A well-furnished prison, but a prison nonetheless.”
His mother rested her hand upon Will’s arm. “But Sir Guy and the prince miscalculated. The royal court is not a place to try a lord for brawling with a servant, no matter how favored that servant may be. No crime has been committed worthy of Westminster, and the rest of the lords would see through the prince’s ploy easily.”
Will looked into his mother’s eyes. “So I don’t have to go?”
“No, my son. Geoff has already sent for the sheriff, and Mark Brewer will ask that we pay Sir Guy a fine for his troublesand offer up an apology. Such an apology will stick in your uncle’s throat like a chicken bone, but he’ll do it. Then we’ll send the Horse Knight on his way and pray he never darkens our door again!”
Will let his head fall into his hands. He was relieved beyond words not to have to make the journey to London, but at the same time he felt his cheeks burning a bright red with the shame that his uncle would have to formally apologize to Sir Guy for a crime that Will was not even guilty of. It made Will so sick that even the sweets laid out before him lost their appeal.
“How are you sleeping?” his mother asked after a moment.
“How did—”
“I’m your mother.”
Will sighed. “I have bad dreams. Ever since the wolves.”
“Your father never sleeps well, either. And he dreams of worse than wolves, I’m afraid.”
Will’s mother reached out and took him in her arms, hugging him close. “Oh, Will, how I wish you didn’t have to grow up yet. I’m not ready for it.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I am, either,” said Will, his voice suddenly thick in his throat.
Lady Katherine released him. “But we don’t have a say in the matter, my young lord William. The time has come.”
Wiping at his eyes, Will stood and headed for the door. He was glad Geoff wasn’t here to see this.
“Will?”
He stopped at the door and turned to her. She was staring at the fire again, her back to him, the embroidery forgotten on her stool.
“Yes, Mother?”
“Bad things are happening in England right now, and we both miss your father terribly, but we must not lose faith. We must never, never lose faith.”
“Yes, Mother,” Will said as he tried to find a smile to comfort her with, but it was difficult. As he shut the door behind him, he thought he could hear his mother crying.
That night exhaustion and worry finally overtook him. He slept fitfully, and it was late the next morning when he was woken by Hugo banging on his chamber door.
Groggily, Will opened up.
“Yes?”
“Geoffrey has asked for you to come at once, my lord.”
“Why? Has something happened?”
The thin steward swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat like fish in a stream.
“The sheriff arrived this morning with soldiers.”
“Well, good,” answered Will. “They can escort Sir Guy from the castle.”
“My lord, the man you wounded, Sir Guy’s bribes master … he’s dead.”
Will felt the floor shift beneath his feet, threatening to drop away. Somewhere on the edge of last night’s sleep, the wolves howled.
SIX
Shall I fetch his corpse?
—S IR G UY OF G ISBORNE
Will followed Hugo through the halls of Shackley House as panicked servants bustled back and forth. Everyone seemed to want
“The prince wants me in London so that Geoff will be forced to support him,” said Will. “The prince wants a hostage.”
“Yes,” said his mother. “He’ll lock you up in the Tower while he delays the trial for weeks—months, if need be. Just long enough to pressure your uncle to back his bid for the throne.”
Will felt his legs go wobbly. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he might have fallen over. There were stories of lordlings who went into the Tower of London and never came out. How had this all happened so fast?
“He’ll lock you up in a room befitting your station, of course,” said his mother. “A well-furnished prison, but a prison nonetheless.”
His mother rested her hand upon Will’s arm. “But Sir Guy and the prince miscalculated. The royal court is not a place to try a lord for brawling with a servant, no matter how favored that servant may be. No crime has been committed worthy of Westminster, and the rest of the lords would see through the prince’s ploy easily.”
Will looked into his mother’s eyes. “So I don’t have to go?”
“No, my son. Geoff has already sent for the sheriff, and Mark Brewer will ask that we pay Sir Guy a fine for his troublesand offer up an apology. Such an apology will stick in your uncle’s throat like a chicken bone, but he’ll do it. Then we’ll send the Horse Knight on his way and pray he never darkens our door again!”
Will let his head fall into his hands. He was relieved beyond words not to have to make the journey to London, but at the same time he felt his cheeks burning a bright red with the shame that his uncle would have to formally apologize to Sir Guy for a crime that Will was not even guilty of. It made Will so sick that even the sweets laid out before him lost their appeal.
“How are you sleeping?” his mother asked after a moment.
“How did—”
“I’m your mother.”
Will sighed. “I have bad dreams. Ever since the wolves.”
“Your father never sleeps well, either. And he dreams of worse than wolves, I’m afraid.”
Will’s mother reached out and took him in her arms, hugging him close. “Oh, Will, how I wish you didn’t have to grow up yet. I’m not ready for it.”
“Honestly, I don’t know if I am, either,” said Will, his voice suddenly thick in his throat.
Lady Katherine released him. “But we don’t have a say in the matter, my young lord William. The time has come.”
Wiping at his eyes, Will stood and headed for the door. He was glad Geoff wasn’t here to see this.
“Will?”
He stopped at the door and turned to her. She was staring at the fire again, her back to him, the embroidery forgotten on her stool.
“Yes, Mother?”
“Bad things are happening in England right now, and we both miss your father terribly, but we must not lose faith. We must never, never lose faith.”
“Yes, Mother,” Will said as he tried to find a smile to comfort her with, but it was difficult. As he shut the door behind him, he thought he could hear his mother crying.
That night exhaustion and worry finally overtook him. He slept fitfully, and it was late the next morning when he was woken by Hugo banging on his chamber door.
Groggily, Will opened up.
“Yes?”
“Geoffrey has asked for you to come at once, my lord.”
“Why? Has something happened?”
The thin steward swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat like fish in a stream.
“The sheriff arrived this morning with soldiers.”
“Well, good,” answered Will. “They can escort Sir Guy from the castle.”
“My lord, the man you wounded, Sir Guy’s bribes master … he’s dead.”
Will felt the floor shift beneath his feet, threatening to drop away. Somewhere on the edge of last night’s sleep, the wolves howled.
SIX
Shall I fetch his corpse?
—S IR G UY OF G ISBORNE
Will followed Hugo through the halls of Shackley House as panicked servants bustled back and forth. Everyone seemed to want
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