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Be Happy, Brother
If, by chance, she were asked whom she feared most, King John or his wife, Adelina de Quincey would be hard pressed to decide.
Terrified when the cruel king forced her to leave her family’s ancestral home and become his ward at court two years ago, she’d breathed a sigh of relief after being appointed to the post of lady-in-waiting by Isabella of Angoulême.
Now, she was older and wiser. She might be safe from John’s predatory intentions—the queen’s objective in the first place—but Isabella could be as devious and vindictive as her husband. Mind you, she too might turn into a shrew if she were married to a cruel monster like John. Not that she would ever have the chance to find out, since the selfish queen forbade her ladies to marry while in her service. Any courtier who showed the slightest interest in a lady-in-waiting was quickly exiled from court.
The blue-eyed, blonde queen never missed an opportunity to boast that she had often been compared to Helen of Troy. Sadly, along with an exaggerated opinion of her own beauty, the comparison had some truth to it. A year after annulling his marriage to Isabel of Gloucester, and always anxious to spite his enemies, John had stolen Isabella from her betrothed—a French count—thereby incurring the wrath of Philip of France. The resulting wars had greatly diminished the size of John’s empire, especially with the loss of Normandie to the French. Isabella would never accept blame for that any more than Helen probably did for the fall of Troy.
John’s mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine—another termagant who’d fomented rebellion against her royal husband and been imprisoned for it until King Richard freed her—had heartily welcomed Isabella. Kindred spirits.
It was whispered the common people considered John’s wife a siren and had nicknamed her Messalina, after the sexually insatiable wife of Emperor Claudius. She and John allegedly spent whole mornings in bed together. Adelina couldn’t attest to that as fact, though her royal mistress was frequently absent until midday. However, there was no sign yet that the dragon queen was with child.
On the rare occasions he was allowed to visit, Adelina’s brother whispered his opinion that John was a weak king who would never have been capable of holding on to the far-flung duchies ruled by the Plantagenets since the time of Henry II.
Word had recently come by way of a former servant that Melton Manor had been expropriated by the rapacious king, and Terric conscripted into John’s army. The faint hope her only champion would rescue her from John’s corrupt court was gone.
The king was embroiled in a campaign to sail to La Rochelle, then proceed north to retake Anjou and Normandie from the French. If Terric had gone with the army, she might never see her beloved brother again. Melton Manor was probably lost forever.
She lay awake every night, choking back tears. The other young women billeted in the same scantily furnished chamber seemed friendly, but she’d learned from bitter experience never to trust anyone at John’s court. There was no one to share her heartbreak.
She prayed Terric would survive to marry and sire children. “Be happy, brother,” she whispered into her pillow. “Wherever you are.”
* * *
“Becket’s wife feels responsible for John’s abduction of Adelina,” Roland told Terric as they rode north with the Montbryce knights.
Adrien nodded his agreement.
“She shouldn’t,” their cousin replied. “Adelina has never expressed regret about aiding in Marguerite’s escape from John’s clutches. She would do it again, if the occasion arose.”
“So, John never actually found out how Marguerite was spirited away from Melton?” Adrien asked.
“No, the secret tunnel is still known only to family members.”
“But you’ve lost Melton,” Roland replied.
“It’s highly unlikely either entrance will be discovered. As you’ll recall from your short visit, the cave below the house is accessible only at times of very low tides. The door inside the house is behind the pantry hidden by a panel. In the unlikely event someone found it, they’d have to remove the stone to find the lever.
“John has expropriated properties all along the south coast, not just Melton. I doubt another family will ever inhabit the house. He’s not a man to give away what he’s taken for himself. He’d sooner see it fall into ruin.”
“His anger over Marguerite’s disappearance can’t have counted in your favor,” Adrien remarked.
Terric shrugged. “John is aware I’ve aligned myself with the barons who oppose him. It was only a matter of time before he took his revenge. Adelina thinks he’s forgotten about Marguerite. She’s only his distant cousin and he has no loyalty to family in any case.”
“Our sister-by-marriage will be glad to hear that,” Roland said. “Now, we should find a place to camp for the night. There’s a lake near the Bois d’Hermet up ahead. You stink of the latrine.”
“You don’t smell too sweetly yourselves, cousins,” Terric retorted with a grin.
A short time later, watching the camp being set up by his loyal knights, Roland came to the conclusion he liked Terric. They’d been lads last time they’d met and his cousin had grown into a pleasant fellow. There’d been no chance to reconnect when King John had unexpectedly arrived at Melton Manor two years ago. Roland had just disembarked from the galley and been on his way into the house. Given the tyrant’s vow to execute any Norman apprehended in England, Roland, Becket and Marguerite had been obliged to immediately flee across the Narrow Sea to Normandie.
Considering all the evil that had befallen him and his sister, Terric had kept his sense of humor. But Adelina’s plight was worrisome and Roland fully understood why it gnawed at her brother.
Something would have to be done.
* * *
Sitting beside the campfire after a hearty meal, Terric stared into the flames and considered his situation. The conviction he was about to die had gradually loosened its grip on his vitals, partly thanks to the easy camaraderie of his Montbryce cousins. Roland and Adrien were likable fellows.
It went without saying Terric would be warmly received at Montbryce, but he knew in his heart he could never accept exile there while his sister was still at John’s mercy. He loved Adelina dearly and intended to do everything in his power to rescue her, but would his Montbryce kin be willing to risk their lives by sailing to England? If they were caught, they’d be executed by a king still seething over the loss of Normandie. Especially if he had become aware the Montbryces had fought on the side of the French at the fateful siege of Gaillard.
It was a lot to ask. Roland had saved his life and might not be happy to hear he was determined to risk losing it. However, he could never abandon his sister.
