December 1066, Westminster
Alaric, Guillaume Malet, and Roderick stood in a niche behind a thick leather screen waiting for the king, who had summoned them for a private counsel. Roderick leaned against the wall cleaning his nails with his dining knife, and Malet complained of his aching joints. Alaric studied the coppery sheen of the beautifully tooled leather. He felt tired, and wanted a soft bed and a warm woman. He ran his hand through his short hair, annoyed it had not yet grown back.
Alaric heard the familiar voice of Brian Dubec, Eustace’s man on the other side of the partition, faint at first, slowly increasing in volume. “Old King Edward almost gave Eustace Dover once.”
“Why?” another voice asked.
“A suitable recompense for the insult shown to his brother-in-marriage,” Dubec said.
“Agh! Eustace already controls Calais and Boulogne,” the other said. “With Dover, he would possess the shortest route across the strait, the richest ports. Why would William now give him Dover?”
“Because Eustace gave William gold, ships, and soldiers for the invasion. Why else would Eustace come himself?” Dubec asked.
“To see the look on Harold’s face when he saw Eustace again,” Dubec’s acquaintance teased.
“That, too,” Dubec said. “It pleased him to cut Harold down.”
“But . . .” the other man said. “William is unpredictable. No one guessed he would give . . . le Loup Noir a title, so much land, and so many soldiers. You know the one.”
“Alaric of Ewyas, Simeon’s son,” Dubec said, “the Black Wolf.”
“Yes. Can he handle it?”
Hidden by the screen, Alaric grinned at Malet, who signaled they all remain quiet. He frowned at Roderick, who moved directly behind him.
“Black Wolf,” Dubec continued, “is William’s man. Deserted his family to join William. Did you know Simeon the Brave and his wife, Julienne the Fair?”
“No,” the other chuckled, “but, no doubt, you did.”
“In truth, I did not. But Eustace knew the bastard, Simeon, and his brother Count Richard d’Évreux.”
“Ah, yes,” the voice said. “A feud between the brothers, wasn’t there?”
“One Eustace turned to his advantage,” Dubec said. “Simeon and Eustace had trained together as youths.”
Alaric raised an eyebrow because his father had never mentioned Eustace.
“But it was Julienne he remembers best. He was her first . . . Well . . .”
“Eustace was her amour?”
Alaric turned his questioning eyes to Malet, whose expression hardened.
“Eustace called her an exceptional woman,” Dubec continued. “It seems Simeon and his brother both wanted to marry her. Eustace wanted to bed her. She rejected Richard, spurned Eustace, and chose Simeon. In retaliation, Richard seized Simeon’s estates, and Eustace took what he wanted on the eve of her wedding.”
“Willingly?”
“Eustace’s will prevailed.”
The men laughed.
Alaric stepped forward, ignoring Malet’s restraining clasp. From behind, Roderick clamped one large hand over Alaric’s mouth. Simultaneously, his other arm pinned both of Alaric’s arms, and in one move, he lifted Alaric off the ground and held him pressed against his own massive chest.
“If you make one sound,” Roderick whispered, “I swear, I will knock you cold. Understand?”
Alaric closed his eyes. His mother raped? A sickening horror seeped into him.
“Where is the fair lady now?”
“With her Savior,” Dubec said. “All of Black Wolf’s family died at Eashing. One might say Eustace executed them.”
Alaric tried to move, but Roderick held him firm. Malet whispered to Alaric, “Stop. You must learn the truth.” Alaric ceased his struggles.
“Eustace killed them?”
“Not personally!” Dubec said. “We rode into a village, met resistance, and burned the village down. The family died in the encounter.”
“But how? The villagers raised arms?”
“Not exactly. Simeon and his son, the thegn, wearing armor and sheathed swords rode out to meet us,” Dubec said. “Simeon told Eustace that they would not stop us from taking all we wanted, but they were honor-bound to protect the villagers from harm. Eustace asked Simeon if he thought Normans would not kill Normans, saying that he, a Boulonnais, had no such prohibitions. Eustace ordered us to put Simeon and his son in the church. We forced them from their horses and shoved them into the church. We herded the villagers there, too.”
Alaric jerked despite Roderick’s firm hold. He began to tremble.
Dubec continued. “Plunder alone could not appease Eustace’s fury at facing his honorable enemy.”
“Is that why Eustace killed him?” the voice inquired.
“Our mission was to harass the southern villages until the Witan recognized William. Once the villagers were in the church, we killed or took the livestock, all the grain, and everything else we wanted. Before riding out, Eustace gave orders to torch the village. He learned days later that his soldiers had fired the church without releasing the villagers.”
“And Eustace was rid of his rival.”
“Eustace feels no remorse,” Dubec said. “He did not intend to kill them. The deed was done. God willed it. But he admitted that if he’d known they would all burn, he would have asked Julienne the Fair what she would do to save her family. He laughed, Would she have come willingly to my bed? Would I have wanted her now after all these years, probably gray-haired, wrinkled, with a sagging, flabby body?”
Dubec’s companion chuckled. “Knowing him, he would have asked just to hear her plead.”
Sweat dripped from Alaric’s scalp. Without seeing, he stared at the leather shielding him from Dubec. Just days ago, Eustace had approached him, knowing he’d murdered Alaric’s family. He’d mocked Simeon, probed Alaric’s ambitions, had praised the joy of conquest and plunder. He’d toyed with Alaric.
“Truth is,” Dubec said, “we will do worse yet.”
“That we will,” agreed Dubec’s companion. “I am surprised the king raised Simeon’s son. If Simeon stood against the Normans, would not Black Wolf turn against William when he learns about Eustace’s deed?”
“Before his coronation, William gave us all, including Black Wolf, orders to destroy those villages refusing to submit, and to surround and isolate London, until it surrendered. When Simeon chose Harold, he became William’s enemy. Like Harold, he was felled as he would have been had he fought at Hastings. Black Wolf himself might have cleaved Simeon’s skull during the battle. This happens in war.”
“What if Black Wolf seeks revenge?”
Dubec grunted. “The moment he tries to touch Eustace he will lose William’s favor. Land, titles, and everything he has gained. Besides, William needs Eustace too much to censure his action.”
“But,” the other man said, “the king’s ban will protect Eustace only for a while.”
“Eustace will protect himself. Be sure of it.” Both men laughed.
“Come,” Dubec said, “let us find a slave girl infused with virtue. I hear there are some fine . . .” Dubec’s voice faded.
Alaric stood rigidly, unaware that Roderick had released him. The words had hit him as if the blunt end of an axe had slammed into his stomach. He staggered to the edge of the screen looking for Dubec—or Eustace—in the milling crowd.
Malet grabbed him and pulled him back. “Any quarrel between you and Eustace must be settled in the king’s court.”
Alaric threw off Malet’s hands and turned on his friend.
Malet gasped. “You cannot! You cannot touch him. The king protects Eustace.”
Looking beyond Malet, Alaric again searched the crowd for Eustace de Boulogne.
“Lord Stafford, Seigneur Malet?” a page called. Alaric looked at the boy, who shrank upon seeing Alaric’s expression. “The . . . the king,” the page said hurriedly, “has countermanded his summons. He will send for you again.”
“I must see the king now!” Alaric said. The boy ducked and said he would convey the message and quickly turned away.
“Choose, Alaric,” Malet said, coolly. “You must choose now, to stay within the king’s graces or challenge his rule and seek your personal revenge. If you say anything to William, he will cast you out. As Dubec said, Eustace did the king’s bidding. You must leave Eustace to God’s zeal.”
“I am God’s zeal!” Alaric turned to follow the page. Suddenly, Roddy pinned him up against the wall, as if he were nothing more than a small boy.
“My liege lord,” Roderick said to Malet, “is a wise knight. He does not squawk like a tickled maiden. He never forces me to dunk him in a trough of icy water. He prefers to await the king’s summons and to leave the premises on his own legs rather than over my shoulder like a sack of grain. He bids you farewell for now.” He let Alaric go and stepped back. “Is that not so, my lord?”
Alaric glared at Roderick a moment and took a deep, shuddering breath before nodding.