Royal Feud

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Hermione, thank you for a very pleasant afternoon." He started to pick up the few pieces remaining on the chessboard and put them into their storage box. "I enjoyed our game very much."

"I did as well, milord. Thank you." She gathered captured and placed them into the container.

up the white pieces she had

"Who taught you how to play chess, Hermione?" "Lord Bamchester started teaching me when I was just a girl."

"You must still be playing regularly to have retained such a high level of skill." He

put the remainder of chess pieces into the box and latched it. "Aye. I often played with Father Michael, the chaplain at Morefy. He is an expert.

Tis only in the last year that I have finally been able to beat him occasionally." Delvin nodded. "That explains it. Perhaps you will play again with me tomorrow, if

the storm continues." He stood and rounded the table to pull back her chair.

"Aye, I would like that, milord. I have missed my matches with Father Michael." "Hermione, I think 'tis high time that you called me Delvin."

"I would like that, Delvin." She offered him a shy smile.

"Milord, falconer said as Delvin entered the mews with Gaenor on his arm. "Sir Hugh said John's returned from Bamchester. He's waitin' in the hall for ye." "My thanks, Denners. Do you have Gaenor's food?"

"Aye, milord. Here 'tis."

Delvin accepted the mouse from the falconer and dangled the rodent by the tail front of the bird. "Come, my beauty, and get your reward. 'Tis a good job you did today." He said proudly to Denners, "Gaenor brought down two gray herons and a right good hunter she is."

in

swan today." "Did she indeed, milord?" Denners replied. "A

Delvin took another mouse from Denners and offered it to the peregrine. After feeding Gaenor, Delvin watched the bird bathe, his thoughts drifting to Hermione. If the news from Bamchester was what she hoped, she would soon leave Ishton. He recalled the chess game they had played yesterday afternoon. It had taken every bit of strategy he knew, but he had finally defeated her. He had been surprised he could spend hours

"Aye, that she is."

with Hermione in such a masculine pursuit and enjoy every moment. When Gaenor was done bathing, he sang to her and offered her his arm. The

peregrine stepped regally onto his fist and Delvin carried her back to her perch. After securing the hood over her head, he left the mews and entered the hall, where he found John sitting at a trestle table, eating. The messenger stood on Delvin's approach. "Milord, I've the reply from Lord

Bamchester for ye." He dug out a folded, sealed piece of paper from his tunic and handed it to Delvin.. "Thank you, John. I am glad to see you made it back safely. Did you encounter any problems your journey?"

"No, milord. Not 'til the storm three days ago. I was on me way home and had ta stop at a tavern fer two days; otherwise I'd have been back sooner." "Aye, 'twas a nasty storm. No matter. You are back now. Go ahead and finish your meal."

"Thank ye, milord."

Delvin nodded and turned away. After asking Renwold to send up some warm water, he headed upstairs. Once inside his bedchamber, he lit a candle and read the message. He was trying to determine exactly what his reaction was to the news it contained when a knock on the door announced the servant's arrival.

After washing and dressing in clean clothes, Delvin picked up the letter and headed for the ladies' solar. When he entered, he found Hermione singing for his mother and the other women as they sewed. She glanced up at him and gave him a small smile as she played. He admired the way she looked in her new reddish brown kirtle. The color suited her. When she had finished singing, he advanced into the room.

"That was lovely, Hermione. Thank you," Lucy said. "Delvin, you are back. Did you have a successful hunt?" Hermione put her lute down next to her chair and folded her hands in her lap. She looked up at him, her expression artless and cordial.

The news he had to impart would devastare her. Delvin brought his gaze to his mother's face. "Aye, I did," he answered. "Mother, I need to speak with you and Hermione. Ladies--" he turned and addressed Elizabeth and Clare-"would please you

excuse us?" After they left, Delvin sat down facing Lucy and Hermione.

"The messenger has returned from Bamchester. Hermione, I am afraid there is bad news." He tried to keep his voice gentle as he addressed her, seeing how she stiffened as if bracing herself. "Lady Dorothea died of a stroke two years ago. Lord Bamchester died six months later. His son, Rupert, writes that he thinks his father died of a broken heart."

All the color drained out of Hermione's face, leaving her deathly pale. Her despondent eyes seemed to burn into him. Compassion for Hermione filled him.

"Rupert, the current Lord Bamchester, writes that he is newly married. He sends his regrets but says he cannot take on the responsibility for your care."

"May I see the letter?" Hermione's voice was hoarse and strangled.

"You can read?" Delvin asked.

"Aye."

He handed the letter to Hermione, then exchanged a glance with his mother. They were both silent as Hermione read the message. When she was done, she quietly refolded the paper and handed it back to Delvin.

"Please excuse me," she said, then fled the room, leaving her lute behind. Delvin started to rise to follow her but was stopped by his mother's outstretched

hand. He sank back into his chair.

"She needs to grieve in private, Delvin. Give her some time before going to her." "All right, if you think it best."

"I do, my dear. So, what do we do now?"

Delvin shrugged. "We wait for Wyham's return."

Several hours later Delvin knocked on Hermione's door. After waiting long minutes with no answer, he knocked again.

"Hermione, 'tis Delvin. I have brought your lute."

There was a lengthy silence before the door opened. Hermione stood in the doorway, hair disheveled, face downcast so he could not see her eyes. Her face was blotchy, as if she had been crying. Delvin extended the instrument to her.

"Thank you." She did not meet his eyes as she accepted the lute and hugged it to her chest.

"I am very sorry for your loss, Hermione."

"Thank you," she replied as she turned away.

"I will escort you down for supper."

She closed the door in his face. Raising his fist to knock again, he heard her begin to play a slow, solemn melody. The mournful sound sent a sharp, piercing arrow into his gut. Unable to listen any longer, Delvin lowered his hand and strode away.

"You should eat something to keep up your strength." "I could not. Thank you for bringing my lute."

"I am not hungry."t the beginning of February, Delvin was inside the mews training his new AT gyrfalcon. Gwylan's body was covered with light gray feathers. Her gray wings were liberally covered with dark brown spots, while her breast was lightly sprinkled with tan speckles. Small bells were tied around her feet to alert them to every movement she made. She was wearing a hood, even though her eyes had been temporarily sewn shut. With her keen eyesight stolen from her, Delvin trained the gyrfalcon through her senses of taste, touch, and hearing.

He carried Gwylan around the mews on his gloved fist, softly singing the chorus of a song he had heard Hermione play.

"My King and my country I serve gladly, Protecting the weak, pure justice I seek. Courage, valor, and truth alone rule me, Loyalty my guide, in honor my pride."

Delvin had identified with the song's lyrics from the instant he had first heard Hermione sing them. Besides the fact that the words resonated deep inside him, he had selected the song to use in training Gwylan because it was completely different from the one he used with Gaenor. In that way each bird would know when he was addressing her specifically.

Loud shouting from the guards on the battlements penetrated the dappled serenity of the mews. Without hurrying, Delvin completed his circuit around the perimeter of the room before setting the gyrfalcon back on her perch with slow, deliberate movements. He threaded a leash through the swivel suspended from the jesses tied around Gwylan's legs, then fastened the leash to her wooden perch. When Gwylan was safely settled, he strode out of the mews, into the outer bailey. The guards on the outer curtain had relayed the information to each other until the guard on the east wall yelled down to him.

"Milord, there is a large troop of men approaching the castle."

"Has their banner been identified?" Delvin shouted.

"Not yet, milord."

Gwylan's training would have to wait for another day, Delvin decided as he loped toward the nearest turret, at the southeast corner of the outer wall. Rounding the side of the bailey, he saw Hugh standing with a contingent of their soldiers in front of the main gate. The castellan left the troops and strode toward Delvin.

"Milord, they appear to be displaying the king's standard," Hugh informed him "I want to see them for myself."

Hugh followed him as he climbed the steps inside the turret. Once on top of the crenellations, he walked rapidly toward the main gate. A large company of men and horses came to a stop on the far side of the Mersted River. One man removed his iron helmet, and Delvin immediately recognized Wyham.

"Hail, Ishton," Wyham shouted.

"Hail, Lord Wyham," Delvin yelled back.

"I bring you word from King Henry." "I bid you welcome, milord." Delvin turned his head to the men standing beside hastened away to carry out his orders.

him on the allure. "Guards, lower the bridge and raise the portcullis." The soldiers

"By my count there are ten knights and thirty men-at-arms," Hugh said. **Tis an overwhelming force." Delvin's eyebrows contracted together. "What can the king possibly have planned?"

"Only Lord Wyham can say for sure, milord," Hugh replied.

""Tis true enough. Let us go and find out, then." Delvin descended to the outer bailey and greeted Wyham.

"I have much to tell you, Ishton," Wyham said. "Do you want to remove your armor before we repair to the solar?"

"Aye, that would be most welcome." Hugh quickly went to work, disbanding the Ishton garrison and instructing the king's men where to stable their horses. After Wyham took off his chain mail in the armory, Delvin escorted the king's emissary into the hall and up the stairs. The men encountered Lucy and Hermione on the gallery, and once they exchanged greetings with their guest, the women joined the men in lords' solar.

"I had quite a time finding the king," Wyham began. "He was traveling through Buckingham and Northhampton. I always seemed to be one step behind him. The foul winter weather also hindered my progress. I finally caught up with King Henry in Warwick. When I told him about Morefy's perfidy, he went into one of his violent rages. He ordered that the earldom be stripped from Morefy and that his castle be razed to the ground."

"That is extraordinary," Delvin remarked. "I had no expectation King Henry would do anything this drastic." "Aye." Wyham took a sip of wine. "Henry has decided to bring the nobility to heel.

Any castle granted by King Stephen, as Morefy's was, is to be torn down. Henry is making an example of Morefy. He means to ensure no other baron dares to defy him." Delvin nodded. “This punishment will certainly get every nobleman's attention."

"Henry also decreed that Morefy's lands be given to you., Ishton," Wyham

continued, "Upon the condition that your marriage to Lady Hermione stand." Delvin's intense gaze clashed with Hermione's wide eyes. Studying her, he let the import of Wyham's words register. She would not have been his first choice as a bride, but he had come to know her character over the last few weeks. Hermione was extremely intelligent and very talented. She would make him a fine wife and be a good mother to his children.

He nodded decisively, accepting their marriage at last. "Aye," he stated. "My marriage to Lady Hermione will stand." He gave Hermione a slight smile. Hermione dropped her eyes from his. She bent her head and clutched her hands

together on her lap.

Lucy got up from her place on the settle, went over to Hermione, and hugged her. "This is wonderful," Lucy interjected, her voice joyous. "My dear, I am so glad you

will be staying with us always. You are like a daughter to me already."

"Thank you, milady."