Page 237 of Slow Burn Romance

“You are my champion, William, until I say otherwise,” the king replied reprovingly. “You will return to London if I wish it.”

William, somewhat annoyed and depressed, nodded. “And I shall obey, sire.”

Henry slouched in his chair, scratching at his dirty scalp. “And there is another thing; why was the Earl of Teviot not with you upon your return, as I ordered?”

“Because he is dead,” William replied bluntly, noting the faint furrow of surprise on Henry’s brow. “He and his brother fell into a scuffle and the younger de Longley killed the earl in self-defense.”

Henry swung around to look at him. “Is this so? Alexander is dead?”

“Aye, sire, he is,” William answered. “Adam de Longley is the new Earl of Teviot and shows all the signs of competently handling the task.”

The king stared back at him a moment. “It would seem that young Adam completed the task I would have asked of you. I must send my congratulations to the new earl.”

William’s eye narrowed for a brief second, Henry would have him play assassin, as well as champion? As much as he hated Alexander and wished the man dead, he would not have been keen on murdering him. And to refuse would have been to directly disobey the king. He was at once glad that Alexander was already dead, but wondering if inevitably a similar situation would arise again someday. The thought worried him.

Henry gazed up at William in an alcohol haze until the man became uncomfortable with the attention. What the king was thinking was anybody’s guess and he shifted on his big legs, awaiting the next move.

“You do not like it here in London, do you?” Henry asked after a moment.

“I like London,” William replied. “But my home is in the north.”

“Yet you were born near Worcester,” Henry said. “Your grandmother is Welsh, your grandfather Norman.”

William grinned faintly. “There is a bit of everything in my family, sire. Those relatives you mentioned were on my father’s side. On my mother’s side, my grandfather was a Saxon, and my grandmother was a Saracen. He married her while on the crusade with Richard.”

“Both of your grandsires served with Richard,” the king put in.

“Aye, they did and were great friends,” William nodded. “Which is how my parents became betrothed.”

Henry knew that, for he had known William’s father, Edward. He had been a highly intelligent man and devoutly loyal to Richard. In fact, Edward de Wolfe was one of the forces behind the Magna Carta, signed by Henry’s father, John.

“Did you ever know Richard’s Defender, Christopher de Lohr?”

William shook his head. “Not really, although he and my father were the best of friends. I met him once or twice when I was young.” His eyes went distant, as if remembering the great man who had been Richard’s right arm. “He was my hero. I wanted to be as great a knight as the Defender of the Realm.”

“Three of his sons served me,” Henry said, reflecting. “Six of his grandsons serve me in various posts, as well as four of his brother’s descendants. David de Lohr was as great as his brother.”

“One of David’s grandsons, Maddoc du Bois, is one of my closest friends.”

Henry nodded in recognition. “Du Bois is a mighty, mighty knight,” he agreed. Then he eyed William through blood-shot eyes. “You remind me of him a great deal.”

“Maddoc?”

Henry shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Christopher. You have his strength and character. But I doubt even de Lohr had as great a reputation as you do.”

William was flattered; everyone knew that Christopher de Lohr had been the greatest knight who had ever lived. “I could never live up to the earl’s reputation, sire. I would not even want to try; the man is a legend.”

“So are you,” the king replied softly, then waved at William simply. “We are far off the subject. Be gone, de Wolfe, for I am fatigued.”

Grateful for the dismissal, William quit the room.

*

The party was on the road before dawn. The fine carriage that had brought Jordan from Northwood now held her sons, Byron, and the wet nurse. Jordan wanted to ride with William, even though she fell asleep soon after they had left Windsor.

The previous day had been as bright and lovely as this day was soggy and cold. William rode at the head of the column, with his wife wrapped in a heavy fur-lined cloak, sleeping like a child in his arms. It reminded him of the early days, when he had brought her from Scotland, the days when he had fallen in love with her. Gazing down at her beautiful face, he fell in love with her anew.

Two knights from Windsor accompanied the party. Sir Roan d’Vant sat astride his mighty dappled steed to the rear of the Northwood knights as well as a man by the name of Sir Broderick de Marsh. Both men had served William in Wales and were honored to be asked to accompany the troops back to Northwood.