Twin Passions - 2. Chapter 2

'Did you hear what happened to the magician who predicted the death of Owain Glyndŵr's wife?' Robert asked.

'No,' Roland said smiling, 'but I bet you are going to tell us.'

'Only if you want to hear how incredibly charming and witty I am.'

'As if we needed further evidence of that,' Roland teased.

The twins were in their usual place by the fire, sitting at their small wooden table. Mid-afternoon was one of the busiest times in the Hall and servants fluttered around cleaning and preparing for the evening meal. The less important merchants paced up and down the long room, fearing that they might have to return the next day and hope that Ralph had the time to see them then. Some would return five of six times before they finally had their audience.

The squires, who had finished their match, were spread around the hall. Some were polishing armour and sharpening swords, some flirted with the prettier servant girls; while most were gathered around Roland and Robert. They seemed to orbit them and didn't stray far before they returned to be entertained with another Robert's jokes or regaled with Roland's elaborate stories about knights, damsels and glory.

'No, tell us what happened to the magician who predicted Owain Glyndŵr's wife's death,' Roland said to placate his brother.

'Well, he predicted her death and Owain was furious, he summoned the magician and said “if you are so great and powerful, magician, tell me: when are you going to die?”'. The boys all broke into a rapturous round of laughter.

'What was that, Robbie?' Roland managed to say wiping tears from his eyes, 'was that you trying to put on a Welsh accent?'

'Yeah, what was wrong with it?'

'It's terrible,' Jack said after he was finally able to get himself under control.

'Have you ever heard a Welshman talk?' asked Roland.

'Yeah, and that's exactly what they sound like,' Robert retorted.

'That's how Owain Glyndŵr might sound if he was Scottish,' Samuel said, 'that was pretty good for a Scottish accent.'

'Don't try to defend him, Sam,' Roland said.

'It's true, mate,' Jack added, 'that was absolutely deplorable.'

'If anything,' Jack said, 'it sounded Irish.'

'Okay, Rollo, if my Welsh accent was so bad; how about you give it a go?'

'Well, luckly for us all, I have heard this joke before,' Roland said and, transitioning into a pitch-perfect Welsh accent, recited:

'"If you are so great and powerful, magician, tell me: when are you going to die?” And the magician, knowing that there was no right answer for him to give, thought about his predicament. He knew that Owain planned to order his execution no matter his answer, and so the clever magician said: “I do not know the date of my own death Prince Owain, but I do know that my death will proceed your own by three days".'

The squires again burst into laughter; but this time it was because of the quality of the humour and not its delivery. The squires loved jokes and riddles which demonstrated cleverness and cunning.

'Well done, well done,' Robert said, 'it takes a big man to admit when he is beaten and a better man to beat his brother when he is.'

Robert hit Roland in the arm and both laughed louder than before. Robert turned to find Galinda cleaning the table behind them.

'Galinda,' Robert said smiling, 'when you are finished with that; could you bring a cider for my wonderfully Welsh brother, over here?'

'It would be my pleasure,' Galinda said. She was over the moon that Robert had remembered her name. She rushed away to fetch a cider for Roland.

The laughter was interrupted by Sir Charles, who lumbered over to the table.

'Rollo, Robert, Earl Ralph would like to dine with him privately this evening.'

'Why?' Robert asked.

Ralph usually took his dinner in the Great Hall with everyone else. It was extremely unusual for him to eat in his room and even more unusual for him to ask the twins to join him.

'Do you know what this is concerning?' Roland said, restating his brother’s question more tactfully.

'He did not tell me, Rollo, I really don't know.'

Robert looked at Sir Charles quizzically.

'Do you know if Thomas Langley will be joining us,' Roland asked.

'Dean Thomas is here,' Robert interrupted, 'you didn't tell me that.'

'I didn't think you would care,' Roland said.

Sir Charles, who had always been very fond of the boys, looked up at the door at the top of the stairs and said: 'I believe the table is set for four.'

'Interesting,' Robert said, 'thank you for the message.'

Sir Charles gave the boys a sympathetic look and walked off down the Hall, out the large doors and into the courtyard where he mounted his horse and set off for his home. He wanted to spend the evening with his wife and children and struggled to fight the sadness he was feeling about Rollo and Robbie.

Robert turned and faced his brother, gave him an exaggerated smile and raised his eyebrows.

'Well, I don't imagine it will be a dull evening,' Roland said.

'I don't really care for Dean Thomas,' Robert said to his brother in a whisper.

The squires had resumed talking amongst themselves. They knew that the twins had to balance their friendships with them and their responsibilities towards Claremont and their father. It was one of the reasons that the twins were so respected and admired; they were special.

'Don't worry about it, I'm sure everything is fine,' Roland said.

But there was a queer look about Roland, and his brother was perceptive. If there was one thing a twin knew how to do, it was reading the expression on his brother's face and with the fire flickering against Roland's tan skin; Robert knew that his brother did not think anything would be fine.

'Lying lips are abomination to the Lord,' Robert said.

Roland laughed aloud and said: 'Proverbs 12:22.'

'That was an easy one,' Robert said, smiled and turned to rejoin his friends.

*          *          *

When the sun goes down in Claremont, the lights come up in Auen Castle. The castle is a dark and formidable place with long and winding passageways – if the causal wanderer didn’t have a candle to guide them, the darkness would envelope and strangle him. The fire alone wouldn't be enough for Earl Ralph's room – it would just cast a sinister shadow over everyone inside without providing real illumination. To light the room, there were candles everywhere: they grew from the walls, sprouted from the floor and adorned the tables. But no amount of light could get rid of the dark shadows under Thomas Langley's eyes and as he stood at the table, reciting an evening prayer, he seemed both powerful and dangerous; but perhaps what was most surprising was not his demeanour, which always seemed grandiose and triumphant, but the radiance behind his dark eyes. Was he smiling?

Earl Ralph sat at the head of the table and passively listened to Thomas' prayer. His eyes focused on the Virgin in the tapestry. He pictured his first wife, Philippa, holding the baby and looking adoringly into his blue eyes. Her hair was pulled back from her face, her cheeks flush red and her lips drawn in a smile. A feeling of happiness warmed him and then formed a ball in his stomach, rattled around the empty cage of his chest and sank into him. He felt empty and alone.

Thomas Langley stood at the table and recited from Jeremiah 29:11 'For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'

Roland turned to his brother and softly whispered the word 'lord' into Robert's ear and took his finger and, pressing it against Robert's thigh, he traced the letters 'l-o-r-d' against his hard muscles. Robert understood that Roland was saying that it wasn't 'The Lord' with a capital 'L' who had plans for the twins – but their lord with a lower-case 'l' – their father, must have been planning something.

'That does not bode well,' Roland whispered back.

No one at the table gave much attention to Thomas' prayer, except for Roland who was not listening to Thomas' words; but rather what he was not saying. When Thomas finished he sat down and the four tucked in.

'We need to talk about your futures,' Ralph said after taking a bite of mutton and a large swallow of beer.

The boys remained silent, they knew that Ralph's pauses were rhetorical and not an invitation for one to speak.

'We have always said that Roland is my heir, and he has proven himself to be worthy of the task; but I fear that someday, when I am gone, there could be arguments amongst the two of you as to whom is the rightful Earl of Claremont.'

'I wouldn't do that,' protested Robert.

Roland remained silent; it would have been foolish for him to have dismissed his twin as a potential rival for the earldom. Robert was popular and a charismatic leader, if he wanted to contest Roland's inheritance; it would have been possible.

'I appreciate that you say that, Robert, and I am sure that your brother does as well; but you know what happens to families when title and power becomes involved: it has tares them asunder and has done for generations. That is acutely accurate for twins. Need I remind you of Romulus and Remus – the twin founders of Rome? I believe you both know well enough what happened to Remus.'

'So, what do you propose we do about it?' Robert asked.

'Well, you are at an age of transition. If you were any other boys, you would be sent away to be squires; as it is, you have been training for combat and chivalry your entire lives. But more importantly, unlike other boys, you have been educated. You both read and write well and can debate and discuss complex issues with any man.'

'We are aware of this. What do you propose we do,' Roland repeated his brother’s question.

Robert could feel his brother's hostility and agitation, it was palpable. The air around him felt heavy and acidic. For his own part, it felt as if his head was swimming – like he had just dived deep into a river and just broken the surface. He felt out of breath and anxious and the world bit at his flesh. He noticed that Thomas Langley had not yet said anything.

'I believe it is in the best interest of our family for you to both go to York where you will be educated, become monks and, God willing, eventually bishops in His Church.'

'You mean to disinherit me?' Roland said with shock and indignation.

'I mean to provide you both with a future.'

'I have a future. I plan to be the Earl of Claremont.'

‘“Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails,'” Ralph said defensively.

'Proverbs 19:21; but God said “I knit you together in your mother's womb” in Psalms 139:14 and Romans 8:28 says “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” God's purpose for me is to be the Earl of Claremont – you are acting against God's will by sending me away!'

Roland's veneer of composure had slipped away; he had never raised his voice at his father before; but the world was spinning around him. He felt as if the room was actually moving around him, as if the floor had given way beneath his chair and he had fallen through the air, crashed against the Great Hall, slipped through its stone and was lost somewhere in the castle's foundation. It was as if this very castle, which had seemed so real and so eternal, had crumbled to dust after the removal of a single stone.

Ralph met Roland's angry stare and said: 'Proverbs 3:5, “trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” You do not know God's will any better than I do. It is preposterous for you to pretend otherwise.'

The hypocrisy of Ralph's words burned in his throat after he spoke them. Roland had made the same argument that Father John had made on the day of the twin's birth. It was a valid claim and one that Ralph himself had believed, and found comforting; but today he was changing all of that. Today, he was risking his eternal soul in the hopes of saving his children from a fate that was even more terrifying than damnation.

'Will Rupert become Earl, then?' Robert asked.

'Yes, that is the logical progression.'

'Maybe we can reach another decision. “Without consultation, plans are frustrated, but with many counsellors they succeed, Proverbs 15:22”. There must be another way.' Roland said almost pleading.

'I am sorry. My decision is final, I have to do what I believe is right: “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”'

'Well, then I suppose there is nothing left to discuss,' Roland said hotly, 'can we be excused now?'

'If you wish, yes. I hope that the feelings you have towards me will fade with time; but you two will always be closer for it all.' Ralph said.

Roland nodded to his brother and both left the table without speaking a word to either of the seated men. As the sound of their footsteps echoed off of the walls of the room, Roland pictured the smug expression which Thomas had tried unsuccessfully to conceal from his face. The man had not spoken once during the entire exchange.

They reached the large wooden door and pulled it open. The rancorous words that had been spoken moments before smouldered in Roland's mind as they were overpowered by the sounds of revelry that rebounded off the walls of the Great Hall. Neither twin even attempted to put on a smile as they walked down the stairs, despite knowing that several eyes followed their decent.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Roland said: 'So he sent his brethren away, and they departed: and he said unto them, See that ye fall not out by the way.'

'Genesis 45:24,' Robert said.

'That makes us even,' Roland said, putting his arm around his brother's shoulders as they walked out of the Great Hall and into the dimly lit corridor beyond its heavy doors.