Play Favourites (King Edward and His Favourite Men) - 13. Chapter 13

“I need to speak to Sir Duffy. He is the only one who can calm the peers down,” Edward said restlessly.

“I go and seek him and show him to the parlour,” Hugh Despenser said in a stifled voice.

Edward just nodded. Hugh hurried back to the hall. The peers stood in groups and discussed the incident. They gave Hugh meaningful looks. But Hugh ignored them. He found Sir Duffy and spoke to him. The man nodded resignedly.

“I go and see him in a few moments,” Sir Duffy said in a low voice. “I need to speak to a few men and calm them down first.”

Hugh left and informed the king. The king stood absent-mindedly by the window.

‘I could reveal Sir Mortimer’s plan to him now,’ Hugh thought.

He made a step towards the king, but then he stopped. The king would have to act now on his own behalf. He would have no interest in his chamberlain’s fate. Hugh backed out. Edward turned to him.

“Sir Mortimer,” Edward said in a fragile voice. “He was waiting patiently. Now his time has come.”

Hugh swallowed.

“He won’t inform Lancaster personally, though,” Edward said. “One of the peers will do, and then Sir Mortimer will step forward.”

“So Sir Mortimer cannot act right now?” Hugh asked pensively.

“Like I said, another peer will do the dirty work. I need to gain time and stop them from acting this very night,” Edward said. “Sir Duffy can stop them, if only for some time. Until then I must have found a solution.”

There was a knock at the door. Hugh opened the door and Sir Duffy stepped in.

“Leave us alone,” Edward said to his chamberlain. “I will not need your service again before tomorrow morning.”

Hugh bowed to the king, and then left the room. He stood in the corridor, not knowing what to do. Finally, Hugh descended the stairs. He passed the hall and spotted the peers. The king’s confidants had assembled and tried to calm the indignant men down.

“Where is Sir Mortimer?” Hugh asked a servant.

The man shrugged.

“He left the hall right after dinner. He did not come back,” the man said.

Hugh turned away and walked down a corridor. He was thinking. Hugh stopped. His hands were trembling slightly.

“Sir Mortimer cannot act right now,” Hugh said in a low voice. “He can’t bring down the king today, but he can very well bring down me tonight.”

Hugh felt cold as ice.

“He must kill me, so I cannot reveal that he bribed me to expose the king,” he said to himself.

Hugh looked down the corridor. He suddenly felt very calm. His mind was clearer than it had ever been before. Hugh was able to think fast and accurate. He sensed his blood running through his veins. A strange feeling had taken hold of him. Hugh acknowledged it.

“Fear,” he said.

Hugh sensed the fear. Yet the fear was somehow detached from him. Hugh’s mind worked fast and accurate.

“He must kill me tonight,” Hugh said, his voice entirely free of emotion. Hugh just acknowledged the fact.

Hugh walked down the corridor slowly. He was on guard. His senses were keen.

‘I have only little time left,’ Hugh thought. ‘I must leave the castle at once.’

Hugh Despenser started to run.

Sir Mortimer had decided to do the deed himself. Another confidant would only enlarge the danger. Sir Mortimer suspected Hugh Despenser was in the king’s parlour. He looked at the door. He realised his hands were covered with sweat.

Sir Mortimer stood motionless for a while until he realised that the guards were watching him. Sir Mortimer straightened. He walked up to the men who were standing in front of the door to the parlour.

“I need to talk to the king,” Sir Mortimer said with a brief and artificial smile.

“Sir Duffy talks with the king,” the man answered.

Sir Mortimer grimaced.

“I will be waiting then,” he said in a grumpy voice.

Sir Mortimer leaned against a wooden cabinet. His hand touched the knife. A shiver of excitement ran through his body.

Sir Mortimer suspected the chamberlain was attending to the king. So, while he was waiting, he worked on his plan. He would ask Despenser to come with him in order to talk with him in private. He would lead him outside. They would walk down the path to the bathhouse. Despenser’s corpse would be found behind the rosebushes the following day. Sir Mortimer touched the knife again. He smiled.

“I must leave the castle at once,” he said to himself.

Hugh Despenser straightened. He dropped the pouch with coins that he held in his hands. Sweat covered his forehead.

“Wrong, Hugh,” he said in a stern voice. “Wrong. Very wrong. Leaving the castle is entirely wrong. Thus Sir Mortimer will win the battle.”

Hugh Despenser bit his lip. He looked around in the room.

“He will read the letter to the peers tomorrow morning. And while I’m riding off to save my life, he will ruin it completely. They will take away my birthright, my titles and ranks. Tomorrow noon I will already be a ruined man, a man without means and name.”

Hugh Despenser clenched his fists and gnashed his teeth.

“No,” he spit.

Hugh turned abruptly. He headed for a wooden chest and knelt down. He opened the chest forcefully and took a long sword from it. Hugh’s fingers ran along the blade. He raised the sword and gazed at it in excitement. Hugh sensed his blood running through his veins. His heart beat faster. His senses were keen. Hugh felt like a lion, ready to jump.

Hugh rose to his feet, the sword still raised.

“My life or yours,” he spit the words.

Adrenaline flushed his body. Hugh’s excitement grew. He was determined like he had never been before.

Hugh left his room to seek Sir Mortimer and kill the devil in the dark of the night.

“What is it you want from the king?” Sir Duffy asked harshly.

Sir Mortimer frowned. His hand touched the knife briefly. He straightened and approached Sir Duffy.

“I am having a message from Isabella, the queen,” Sir Mortimer said almost softly.

“Nobody must speak to King Edward but me for the time being. This is a royal command. Go and inform the queen,” Sir Duffy said rather impolitely.

Sir Mortimer raised an eyebrow.

“Then I will speak to the chamberlain,” he said arrogantly. “I will be waiting for Hugh Despenser then.”

“You will be waiting in vain,” Sir Duffy said brusquely. “Edward sent him away. He will not need the chamberlain’s service tonight.”

Sir Mortimer’s mind went almost blank. The words hit him like a blow.

“When did he send him away?” Sir Mortimer asked by sheer force of will.

Sir Duffy eyed him suspiciously.

“When I came to speak to the king. Shortly after dinner,” Sir Duffy said.

Sir Duffy turned away and walked down the hallway. Sir Mortimer gazed after him. He realised that his entire body was covered with sweat.

‘He may have retired to his room,’ Sir Mortimer thought. ‘Chances are bad,’ another voice in his head said. ‘The man has escaped.’

Sir Mortimer straightened. The guard watched him suspiciously. Sir Mortimer cast him a dark look. He descended the stairs slowly. Sir Mortimer was thinking. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

‘In case he left, I will read the letter to the peers tomorrow morning,’ Sir Mortimer thought.

He relaxed.

“The man is ruined,” he said in a firm voice. “Either dead tonight or a man without name and means tomorrow.”

Sir Mortimer’s self-confidence returned. He walked down the corridor. He was on his way to Hugh Despenser’s chamber.

Hugh stopped in front of the door to Sir Mortimer’s chamber. He looked left and right. Another wave of adrenaline flushed his body. Hugh knocked at the door. There was no response. Hugh knocked again, and then he opened the door. The chamber was empty. Hugh gazed into the room. His mind was working fast. Then Hugh left the room, closed the door silently and looked left and right again.

He realised that he needed to wait for Sir Mortimer. He needed to hide until the man returned. Hugh looked left and right. There was no hiding-place. Hugh opened the door again and slipped into Sir Mortimer’s room. Hugh leaned against the wall next to the door. He took the sword from under his cape. Hugh’s fingers ran along the blade. Hugh concentrated on the moment that was soon to come. His senses were keen. Hugh was waiting.

Sir Mortimer looked up and down the corridor. There was no hiding-place. Sir Mortimer made up his mind. He would wait inside Despenser’s room. Sir Mortimer placed his hand on the doorknob. But then he heard footsteps approaching. Sir Mortimer withdrew his hand quickly. He made a step back. His hand seized the knife. Sweat covered Sir Mortimer’s body.

Sir Audley turned around the corner and hurried down the corridor. Sir Mortimer withdrew his hand from the knife. He made a few steps ahead. He controlled his demeanour. Sir Audley spotted him and stopped abruptly. Audley eyed Sir Mortimer suspiciously. The two men measured each other.

Audley glanced from Sir Mortimer to the door that led to Despenser’s room. Audley grew nervous. Had Sir Mortimer already spoken with the chamberlain?

“I need to speak to Hugh Despenser,” Audley said stiffly.

“May I ask you why?” Sir Mortimer asked suspiciously.

“None of your business, Sir Mortimer,” Audley said brusquely.

“He is not in his room,” Sir Mortimer said.

“So you wanted to talk with him also?” Audley asked, casting Sir Mortimer a scornful look.

Sir Mortimer curled his lips in disdain.

“The king summoned him,” Sir Mortimer lied. “I went to seek the royal chamberlain.”

Audley didn’t believe a word.

‘I must keep him from finding Despenser,’ he thought. ‘I need to win Despenser over. Sir Mortimer must not speak to him.’

“Then let’s go to the hall,” Audley suggested. “I heard the peers have assembled. We might find the chamberlain there.”

Sir Mortimer growled inwardly. His plan was at naught. He could not murder Despenser in the chamberlain’s room. Audley had seen him right in front of the door. Audley would witness against him. He could not murder Audley also. Too great a risk, unfortunately.

Sir Mortimer turned abruptly.

“Let’s go then,” he said grumpily.

Sir Mortimer moved on. Audley looked after him warily. Then he caught up with Sir Mortimer quickly. The two men walked to the hall without exchanging a word.

The guards in the corridor looked at him. Roger walked past them. He stopped in front of King Edward’s parlour. A guard stepped in his way.

“I need to speak to the king,” Roger said in a firm voice.

“No one has permission to see the king. This is a royal order,” the man said.

Roger was at a loss.

“Is he waiting for someone?” he asked.

The guard didn’t reply. The man looked past Roger. Roger made a step back. The guard looked at him out of the corner of his eye. The man knew Roger. He had seen him often. The guard pitied the discarded man.

“King Edward is waiting for Sir Duffy to return,” the guard said in a low voice.

He turned his eyes away from Roger. Roger gazed at the door.

“You may raise your voice once,” the guard said. “Maybe the king recognizes your voice and maybe he will open the door. If he does not, however, I need to remove you from here.”

The man gave Roger another glance. Roger nodded. He swallowed. And then he called out as loud as he could.

“I need to speak to King Edward at once. I am Roger d’Amory, the king’s loyal servant. I ask you. Please open the door.”

Roger made a step back. The guard stood motionless and looked past him. The seconds passed by. The guard straightened. And then the door opened.

“Roger,” Edward said. “Roger, come in.”

Roger entered the room. Edward closed the door quickly. They stood right behind the door. They looked at each other. Roger startled. Edward looked distressed and shaken.

“Edward, my king,” Roger said. He sounded worried.

“My favourite knight,” Edward said in a toneless voice. His eyes were resting on Roger.

“You were right, Roger,” Edward continued. “I am a weakling and wimp. I worked on my own self-destruction.”

Roger opened his mouth. Edward raised his hand.

“No more words, Roger,” Edward said. “I need no more words tonight.”

Edward crossed the room and sat down in a chair. Roger followed him and sat down as well. They remained in silence for some time, each of them looking absent-mindedly into the room. Finally, Edward spoke up. Roger turned his eyes to him.

“Sir Duffy spoke to me. He speaks to the peers now. Sir Duffy is working on a compromise,” Edward said.

Roger gave him a questioning look. Edward shrugged.

“More power to the peers,” he said.

“You have already given away too much of it,” Roger said.

Edward raised his hand faintly.

“Next time I will inevitably fall,” he said soberly. “It will be hard for Sir Duffy to persuade and calm the peers this time. But he is confident. I do trust him, Roger.”

Edward leaned back.

“But next time I will inevitably fall,” he said again.

Edward turned his eyes back to Roger and gave him a small smile.

“This is for sure, Roger. And I cannot stop it. No one can. Like you said, I have already fallen,” he said.

Roger looked at him.

“There is still a chance, my king,” he said.

Edward smiled resignedly.

“My king,” he repeated. “Yes, I remember, you told me that you would never again speak to the man you had come to know and love.”

Edward paused. He studied Roger’s face.

“So, have you come to speak to your regent and king?” he asked.

Roger looked at Edward. Their eyes locked. Roger shook his head.

“I have come to soothe the pain of the man I love,” he said.

They kept looking at each other for another moment or two. Then a smile spread on Edward’s lips. He reached out his hand. So did Roger. Edward closed his fingers around Roger’s hand.

There were still a few angry men. But the king’s confidants worked eagerly on calming them down. Sir Mortimer looked around in the hall. He was utterly displeased. Sir Audley had clung to him like a leech. He had not been able to shake the man off. But meanwhile Sir Mortimer felt almost relieved that the man had hindered him from murdering the royal chamberlain.

‘Luckily, I did not kill him,’ Sir Mortimer thought. ‘The peers won’t bring Edward down with that compromise that Duffy arranged. The king is safe, this time. Next time, though, he will inevitably fall.”

Sir Mortimer looked around in the hall. The hall had almost emptied. Sir Audley stood next to Sir Mortimer and gazed into the room.

“Is there anything or anyone you are waiting for?” Sir Mortimer asked Audley with a frown.

“Not exactly,” Audley said vaguely.

Sir Mortimer shook his head.

“I, for my part, will go to my room now. I need to rest. I feel tired out,” Sir Mortimer said harshly.

Audley nodded.

“Good idea, Sir Mortimer,” he said. “I’m coming.”

Sir Mortimer raised an eyebrow and eyed Audley suspiciously. He cleared his throat.

“No need to accompany me, Sir Audley. I find back to my room on my own,” Sir Mortimer said.

He straightened, gave Audley a nod and headed for the door. Good Lord, what had Audley in mind? Was that why he had stayed by his side until late at night? Sir Mortimer looked back briefly. Audley smiled. Sir Mortimer fastened his steps. Audley followed him. Sir Mortimer felt indignant. He almost hurried down the corridors until he had reached his chamber. He placed his hand on the doorknob.

Audley passed him, cast a covetous eye on him and purred, “Good night.”

Sir Mortimer opened the door quickly and entered the room. Audley almost burst into laughter. He hurried down the hallway.

Inside of the room, Hugh Despenser straightened. His muscles tensed. His hands seized the sword. Hugh was ready to fight.

Isabella thought of Sir Mortimer sneaking about in the castle. She vividly imagined the murder. She saw Sir Mortimer, dressed in a black cape, waiting for Hugh Despenser outside. The sky was dark, the moon was full, and an owl cried furtively. Shivers ran through Isabella’s body at the dark image. Sir Mortimer lay in ambush behind a tree. Despenser walked down the path. Sir Mortimer jumped at him and slit his throat. Blood splashed. Isabella moaned with excitement.

Isabella turned on her back. Sweat covered her body and her chest heaved heavily. The queen was in a complete tizzy.

“Where is the letter?” Hugh Despenser growled.

Sir Mortimer winced again. He tried to think coherently, but he found he was not able to.

“The letter,” Hugh Despenser demanded again.

He moved the blade. Sir Mortimer’s breathing fastened. The blade cut his skin. A stifled cry escaped Sir Mortimer’s mouth.

“Where is it?” Despenser asked again. His voice was a threat.

He bowed down until his face was close to Sir Mortimer’s. Sir Mortimer smelled the smell of the man. And he sensed his breath on his face.

“I will not ask again,” Hugh Despenser whispered.

Sir Mortimer gave a faint nod.

“In my neck pouch,” he said.

Sir Mortimer felt Despenser’s fingers on his neck. Despenser was looking for the cord. Despenser withdrew his hand. He took a knife from his boot. His other hand still pressed the blade of the sword against Sir Mortimer’s throat. Despenser cut the cord. He placed the pouch on Sir Mortimer’s chest and with one hand opened it. Sir Mortimer gazed into the darkness. He tried to ignore the sword.

Finally, Despenser had managed to take the piece of paper from the pouch. He shook the paper until it unfolded. Hugh held it up and gazed at it. But it was too dark to read the letter. Hugh Despenser withdrew his foot from Sir Mortimer’s chest. He kicked the man in his side and forced him to rise to his feet. Despenser shoved Sir Mortimer to the small window of the room. Sir Mortimer searched for the knife under his cape. But he was unable to seize it.

Despenser held the paper up. The faint light of the moon sufficed to read the letter. It was his grandfather’s letter. Despenser pushed the paper in a pocket of his doublet. He leaned in to Sir Mortimer.

“I’m not your minion any longer,” Hugh said to Sir Mortimer. “Don’t think of telling your nightly adventure to the king or whoever. Nobody would believe you. You would just make a fool of yourself.”

Hugh withdrew the blade forcefully and at the same time gave Sir Mortimer a blow on the chest. Sir Mortimer fell to the floor. Hugh Despenser left the room quickly.