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Henry nodded at them both. “Now, I am finished with you both,” he waved at them. “Earl, we will be departing early afternoon. I suggest you prepare yourself. My captain of the household troops, Rolf de Moray, expects that you will be in command when we leave the gates.”

The king had, effectively, placed William in command of every soldier in England. He felt as if he were dreaming the entire thing, for he had never even entertained such a thought. He bowed deeply to his king.

“My lord places great trust in me,” he said. “I shall not fail you.”

Henry looked hard at him. “I know you won’t, lad,” he said. “I know you and your reputation. And I only choose the best.”

He turned away from them and they knew they were dismissed. De Longley waited until they were well down the corridor before letting out a long, heavy sigh.

“Warden of the North Border.” he scoffed. “Great Gods, that ought to piss the Scots off. If they were merely thinking of merging their forces, then that little title ought to prompt them right into it. Doesn’t he realize they will throw everything they have directly at Northwood simply to destroy her and rid themselves of their cage-keeper?”

William nodded. “I have always felt wardens are for jails, not a field title.”

The earl snorted. “Hurry back from Wales, William, and claim your distasteful title from me.”

William smiled. “I am tempted to announce the title to the border lairds myself just to make them mad enough to riot. Then Henry would have no choice but to send me back to the borders to quell the uprising.”

The earl smirked at him. “A good thought, lad.”

They parted company at the stairs. William descended into the foyer and headed out into the early morning sunshine.

The day was already glorious and warm as he crossed into the outer bailey and headed for the knight’s quarters. Around him the population of the fortress was coming alive, readying for the day ahead. He glanced about, something he didn’t usually do, for this would be the last time he saw Northwood in this state. He was homesick already.

William entered the antechamber of the knights’ quarters, a room reserved for meetings and private meals, and came face-to-face with all nine of his knights.

He sighed to himself; he had expected as much. They had heard the announcement last night and had probably been up all night waiting for him to return. They deserved some answers.

William stood in front of them, bracing his legs apart and crossing his arms expectantly.

“Well?” he demanded.

Paris was leaning against the far wall. “They wish to congratulate you, my lord.”

“They do?” William responded. “Then I accept.”

Kieran was sitting directly in front of him. He smiled lazily at the new earl. “Baron Kilham, is it? Has a nice sound to it. So does King’s Champion. Quite a privilege, I would say.”

He gazed down at Kieran. “Stop sounding so jealous. You know I could care less about the titles and land.”

“Titles?” Kieran repeated suspiciously.

“Lands?” Michael blurted on his heels.

William glanced at Paris when he spoke. “It seems the king had more surprises up his sleeves after he left the celebration last night,” he said mildly. “Since you asked, I will tell you. I have received the Kilham barony, Castle Questing, and all of her lands. I have also received another title in addition to baron and King’s Champion. When I return from the campaign in Wales, I will be further known as Warden of the North Border.”

The knights looked properly awed. William grinned when he saw that they were speechless. Paris moved himself off the wall and walked toward his friend.

“I do not know whether to bow to you or kiss your feet,” he quipped.

“Both, if you will,” William returned without missing a beat. “And you, man, are now Captain of Northwood. Congratulations.”

Paris bowed slightly. “Thank you. But I would prefer to go with you to Wales.”

Here it comes, William thought. “I am sorry, my friend, but you cannot,” he said as he put his hand on Paris’ shoulder. “As much as it pains me, you must remain behind at Northwood. De Longley needs you with the Scots on the march.”

“What do you mean, William?” Deinwald asked, puzzled.

William proceeded to explain the missive. When he was finished, his knights looked grim.