Play Favourites (King Edward and His Favourite Men) - 2. Chapter 2

Roger awoke with a start. He gazed into the room. A faint light illuminated his chamber. Roger blinked briefly. Dawn was near.

Edward rose to his feet stiffly. He dressed, not waiting for the servants to help him. Edward walked to the window and looked outside. He looked at the green. And then he noticed that something had changed. The voice of the shadow had not yet greeted him.

“Where are you hiding, Piers Gaveston?” he asked. “What are you up to, my beloved friend?”

Nothing happened. There was no reply. Edward felt almost startled. He looked around insecurely, waiting for the shadow’s voice to respond. But nothing happened. Edward waited for another while. And then he left the room.

Edward felt sick. And yet he felt so real. He sensed the floor under his feet. He smelled the scents in the air. And he heard a bird cry. Edward stopped briefly. He shook his head. Then he heard the ring of a bell. Edward looked around and listened again.

“Oh, well, my dear Gaveston,” he said in astonishment. “I have not been aware of those sounds and scents for a very long time. You took them with you, didn’t you?”

Edward felt a slight breeze on his skin. He turned and spotted the door that led out on the green. Edward stepped outside. His servants surrounded him. Edward made a gesture with his hand. The men retreated.

“The sun is out. It is warm day. Almost like in spring so many years ago,” Edward said to himself.

He walked on.

“Something has definitely changed,” he mused.

Edward greatly enjoyed the new feeling he had.

He was distracted by a man addressing him. One of the peers had approached the king. Edward looked at the man angrily. The man bowed to him.

“My lord, Sir Patrick d’Amory is waiting to speak to you,” the man said.

Edward looked puzzled.

“I do not talk to visitors outside of the hall. You must now. I’m on my way to...,” he started.

Edward stopped when an old man rushed towards him. Edward turned to him. The king was enraged.

“What is it? How can you dare?” Edward hissed.

Patrick d’Amory bowed deeply to the king.

“Forgive me, my lord, my beloved king, I am having a request,” the old man said.

Patrick d’Amory turned quickly and waved to a man in the distance. The man approached hesitantly.

“Quick, Roger, quick. Hand me the letter that your father wrote to the king,” Patrick d’Amory said.

The old man turned back to the king. Edward narrowed his eyes. He felt that something was going on that he had not the slightest clue of. He looked from one servant to the other.

“What kind of plot is this?” he asked angrily.

Patrick d’Amory bowed again, and then turned to his nephew.

“Hand the letter to the king, Roger,” he said. “My nephew Roger d’Amory,” he continued, looking at the king.

Edward narrowed his eyes and looked at Patrick d’Amory. The old man made a few steps back, bowing again. Edward then turned to the young man who looked at him with widened eyes. Roger held a letter in his hands. Edward reached out his hand. Their eyes met. Suddenly, they heard a bird cry. Edward looked up and spotted a white dove. He looked back at Roger d’Amory. Roger looked scared and frightened.

“Just a dove,” Edward said.

“It must not die,” Roger said urgently.

“Why would it die?” Edward asked in astonishment.

Edward’s eyes rested on Roger’s face. Roger lowered his eyes.

Edward turned to his servants and made a gesture with his hand. The men retreated. Patrick d’Amory followed them. Edward turned back to Roger d’Amory and reached out his hand.

“Come,” he said, “Let’s go for a walk on the green. The sun is out. It is warm day.”

Roger looked at the king for an instant. He felt at a loss. He did not move for a moment or two. But then he followed the king quickly.

“His doom has begun,” the queen said in a cold voice.

Sir Mortimer stepped closer and looked outside as well.

“Who is this man?” Isabella asked curiously.

“Why would you want to know, my lady?” Sir Mortimer asked back.

Isabella turned to Sir Mortimer.

“For the briefest of time I pitied this man. His fate is as ugly as mine is,” she said.

Sir Mortimer tilted his head.

“I doubt it is, my lady. His fate will be worse than yours, for he will face death while you will face glory,” he said.

Isabella smiled a small smile.

“Can’t we die with glory then?” she asked.

Sir Mortimer smiled back.

“Who knows? He may die with glory. But does it matter? Who will care?” he said.

Isabella shrugged. She brushed back a strand of her black hair.

“Who will care? No one cares, of course. So why should I care? Why should we care, my dear Sir Mortimer?” she asked back.

Sir Mortimer nodded faintly. Then he offered his arm to the queen.

“Let’s go for a walk, my lady. The sun is out. It is a warm day. Can you feel the warmth? Can you feel the warmth that is running through your body?” he asked.

Isabella narrowed her eyes for an instant. Then she took Sir Mortimer’s arm.

“I have not yet given you the power you seek, neither have you given me the love that I need, Sir Mortimer,” she said softly.

“The day is not yet done,” Sir Mortimer answered with a mellow smile.

Isabella’s eyes turned cold again.

“Do not carry it too far, Sir Mortimer,” she said. “I warned you.”

Sir Mortimer did not respond.

Edward stopped suddenly and turned to Roger. He smiled at him.

“I had a feeling this morning when I awoke. I felt that something had changed,” Edward said.

“What did change?” Roger asked hesitantly.

Edward smiled again.

“The morning was brighter than the previous mornings had been. I smelled scents and I heard sounds that I had almost forgotten,” Edward said.

“Why do you tell those thoughts of yours to a minion? They are intimate. I am not a confidant,” Roger said.

“You could be a confidant,” Edward replied.

He looked at the sky as if he was looking out for something.

“Why did you look so scared and frightened when the dove cried?’ Edward asked, turning back to Roger.

Roger was hesitating.

“Because I dreamed of a dove that cried and fell dead to the ground,” he said.

Edward looked at Roger curiously.

“When did you dream this dream?” the king asked.

“Last night. I awoke with a start,” Roger replied.

He blushed slightly. Edward studied his face. The man was handsome. He liked his features. His skin was smooth. His dark hair matched his fair skin. His green eyes were attentive.

“The dove cried, but it did not fall dead to the ground. You were mistaken,” Edward said.

Edward turned his head and looked into the distance. He made a few steps ahead. Roger followed him.

“You remind me of someone I loved,” Edward said suddenly.

Roger looked at Edward, yet he did not reply. He felt intimidated again. Edward turned his eyes back to Roger.

“You remind me of Piers Gaveston. You may have heard of his unfortunate fate,” Edward said, measuring Roger closely.

Roger flushed. He nodded slightly.

“I have heard of him,” he said finally.

Their eyes met for an instant.

“What is it you heard?” Edward asked.

He made another two steps ahead. Roger followed him.

“I heard he was murdered by the mob,” Roger said.

Edward turned back to Roger.

“Yes, he was murdered by the mob. And why so? Do you know?” he asked curiously.

“Because he loved his king,” Roger said. He looked to the ground.

“Look up. Look at me,” Edward said.

Roger raised his eyes.

“Do you think that love is a crime? Piers Gaveston was sentenced to death for loving his king. Is love a crime? What do you think?” Edward asked.

Roger looked aside for a moment before turning his eyes back to Edward.

“Love is not a crime,” he said finally. “They teach us that God is love. So how could love be a crime?” Roger asked.

Edward raised his eyebrow thoughtfully. And then he smiled at Roger.

“It seems you are a smart and clever man, Roger d’Amory. Go on,” he said. “I want to hear your thoughts.”

Roger swallowed.

“Murder a man for him loving his king...I consider this a crime. But...” Roger fell silent.

“What?” Edward asked. “Go on, please.”

“He was not murdered for loving his king,” Roger said.

Edward gave him a piercing look.

“No?” he asked.

“No,” Roger said. “He was murdered for loving the man.”

They looked at each other. A sudden tension grew between them. Edward’s lips opened slightly. Then he compressed his lips. He turned away abruptly and walked on stiffly. Roger looked after him. He felt insecure. Had he been too bold? He did not dare to follow the king. And he did not dare to follow the man.

“There is no dove in the sky, no dove that will fall dead to the ground. The dove already fell to the ground this morning. It died the moment I awoke,” Edward said. “Piers Gaveston, I finally accept your death. I have not forgotten you and I will never do. But I need to move on for the sake of our love and for the sake of my inner peace and for the sake of my country.”

Edward heard a faint laugh. He blinked.

‘I wish you luck. But be careful what you wish for,” the shadow’s voice said suddenly.

The voice grew louder for an instant. Edward shivered inwardly.

“Farewell, my beloved king,” the voice spoke in Edward’s ear.

Edward swallowed hard. He closed his eyes. His eyelids flickered.

“Farewell, beloved Gaveston. We will meet again,” Edward said under his breath, his voice almost breaking.

There was no response. There was no sound to be heard. Edward looked around hesitantly. He looked at the lost figure in the distance.

Roger d’Amory watched the king.

Edward smiled. He crossed the green and walked back to Roger. Roger watched Edward approaching.

“My lord?” he asked when Edward stopped in front of him.

“Do you love your king?” Edward asked.

“I certainly do,” Roger said seriously.

“Could you love the man?” Edward asked.

“I don’t know if I can. But I would like to, I think” Roger answered quietly.

He lowered his eyes and looked to the ground. Edward reached out and touched Roger’s chin. Roger raised his eyes.

“Your fate could be worse than Gaveston’s was,” Edward said.

Roger looked at Edward for an instant.

“I do not care,” he said in a serious voice.

“You do not care now. You might very well care later,” Edward said seriously.

“Who knows,” Roger said. He looked at the king. “We cannot really anticipate our fate, can we?” he asked.

“I stepped carelessly then. I could step more carefully now,” Edward said. “I lost a battle. I must not lose another one.”

“Can you stop fate?” Roger asked.

“I could if I was a respected king,” Edward said. “But neither the people nor the noblemen nor the peers do respect their king. My reputation is doubtful and will always be. This will lead to my doom and ruin. My fate is clear, Roger d’Amory. My death is just a question of time.”

Roger looked at Edward seriously.

“How can you be so calm when you are talking of doom and death?” he asked.

“This is the fate of Edward II, King of England,” Edward said. “There is no way out. I have already carried it too far. They wait for my downfall and destruction. Moreover, they plan it. They work on it.”

He looked at Roger.

“You might fall down as well. You most certainly will. Is your love worth it?” he asked.

Roger shrugged.

“I cannot say, my lord. I do not know,” Roger replied.

Edward smiled at him.

“Until you have lost your reputation, you never realise what a burden it was or what freedom really is. This is what I have discovered,” he said. “I feel free to move wherever I want to and in company of whoever favourite companion I choose.”

Edward looked at Roger. Roger looked back, and then nodded slightly.

“I understand, my lord. I desire for freedom also. If freedom means doom and destruction, so be it, then,” he said.

Edward gave him a nod.

“You are a courageous man, Roger d’Amory. Or maybe you are just naive,” he said.

“I am not brave. Nor am I naive,” Roger replied. “I saw my king at the banquet yesterday. But I caught a glimpse of the man when our eyes met for just an instant. I saw the sadness in your eyes. I cannot forget about that look in your eyes.”

Edward tilted his head.

“You speak frankly to your king,” he said.

“I do not speak to the king anymore,” Roger said. “I speak to the man. This is what I wish for and this is what you wish for also. Why hide the truth behind falsehood and deceitfulness?”

Edward gave him a nod and a smile. He reached out his hand and pointed at the castle.

“Let us go back, Roger d’Amory. I left the castle as a prisoner. I will re-enter it as a free man,” he said.

Roger looked to where Edward pointed at. Edward walked on. Roger followed him slowly. Edward looked back, still walking.

“I want you by my side. I will make the imbeciles aware of it,” he said.

“Your plan will work out, Sir Mortimer,” she said drily.

Sir Mortimer joined her by the window.

“His malady. He is not yet cured,” he said with an artificial sigh. Then Sir Mortimer gave a dry laugh.

“We need not do anymore, my lady. Our plan will work out fine. Let’s just watch and wait for some time,” Sir Mortimer said.

The queen turned her head aside and looked at Sir Mortimer. A slight smile was playing on her lips.

“They got friends quickly, Sir Mortimer. They might be lovers in the briefest of time. I don’t think we need to wait for a very long time,” she said.

“The quicker, the better,” Sir Mortimer said coldly. “We just need to make sure the public learns of it soon.”

Isabella smiled coldly.

“Rumours spread quickly, Sir Mortimer,” she said. She gave Sir Mortimer a piercing look. “See to it, Sir Mortimer. See to it.”

Sir Mortimer gave the queen a malicious smile. He bowed slightly.

“My pleasure, my lady,” he said before retreating quickly.

Sir Mortimer closed the door behind him. Isabella looked at the door. Her lips opened slightly and she licked her lips in gleeful anticipation.

Isabella turned back to the window. Edward and Roger had approached. They entered the castle. Isabella lost sight of them.