Priscilla Royal - A Killing Season

Hugh’s was not. “I received word.”

“Which accounts for the honor of your visit?”

“If you were not told of any particular reason why your father may have desired our company, then the fact that he simply wished it should be sufficient for you.”

With that prickly rebuke, the color in Raoul’s face deepened into burgundy, but he held his tongue.

This sharp exchange between her brother and Baron Herbert’s youngest resounded in her mind like the crashing of lances on shields. This was a house in mourning, she thought, not some tournament. The dispute between these two had gone on too long.

Turning to Raoul, she said, “Your grief over these recent family deaths must be profound, my son. Our visit may be sadly ill-timed, but Brother Thomas and I are here to give what consolation we can. Please tell your mother that I shall visit when she wishes. Brother Thomas awaits your father’s summons.”

Before turning to face the hearth, Hugh unexpectedly gave his sister an appreciative nod.

Raoul bowed to the prioress. “Then I shall leave to convey your kind words. In the meantime, I pray that all comforts have been provided you and your fellow travelers. If not, tell me at once. My father would have no guest lack any desire or need.”

Before Hugh could say a word, Eleanor quickly assured Raoul, on behalf of the entire company, that all was as it should be.

***

The prioress waited until the sound of Raoul’s footsteps had faded down the corridor before walking to her brother’s side.

“Well done, sweet sister!” He grinned and offered wine. “If God be willing and the king need one highly skilled in the art of making peace, I shall mention your talents. To separate two men so hot for battle took courage.”

“Why do you dislike Raoul?”

“On the voyage to Acre, his father told me that his seed must have been too weak when that boy was bred. If the lad was denied some desire, he sniveled like a babe denied the teat. If reprimanded by his father, Raoul whined like a beaten dog and ran off with tail between his legs. Herbert complained that his son seemed incapable of facing adversity like a man must.” He sighed. “As for my own knowledge of the boy, I spent as little time as I could with him during my early visits here. He was too young for companionship, and I cannot recall that he was ever welcome company for anyone.”

“He could not have been much more than a child when his father left.”

“That child is now a man. He still whines.”

Eleanor playfully swatted her brother’s arm. “He was rude enough to you. I have known boars to show more courtesy to their hunters, but you did provoke him.”

“You cannot excuse his boorish behavior for that reason. He may be trying to grow a man’s beard, sister, but he is nothing like his father.” Hugh made a point of rubbing the place his sister touched as if she had hurt him, then laughed. “Men are flawed creatures, sometimes cruel and often ill-mannered, yet we must all exhibit courage and restraint. A few have learned the lesson so well they have become saints.”

A log burst in the fireplace. Sparks flew like shooting stars.

Eleanor stepped back a safe distance from the hearth. “Unless God performs a miracle, Raoul will not be one of them.” She looked up at her brother with an amused expression. “I do not defend him. He lacked all sympathy for his parents, cared little enough about the deaths of his brothers, and suggested that taking vows was much like establishing his proper place near the salt at table.” She hesitated. “The only one to whom he bestowed a meager compliment was a man he called Leonel . Do I correctly remember the man’s name? Raoul called him cousin. ”

“Even Raoul could find little for which to fault Sir Leonel. The man is Baron Herbert’s nephew, son of a brother who died many years ago. The baron and his wife gave a home to the boy and his mother, a woman who sorrowed so much over her dead husband that she soon sickened and died. I know the nephew. Leonel accompanied the baron to Outremer and showed such bravery that he was knighted.”

“This man finds favor with you?”

“On Herbert’s behalf, many of us grieved that Leonel was not his heir.”

Nodding, the prioress fell silent and watched as her brother’s thoughts seemed to drift away. “Do you not like any of the baron’s sons?” Her voice was soft.

He blinked as if she had just shaken him out of a dream. “Baron Herbert must have been born with a sword in his hand. He never turned his back on danger and inspired greater courage in all of us during battle. Should it surprise that he expected sons of equal merit? Aye, he was disappointed in his offspring. The first, however, was a good steward of the land, and his father was content to give at least one to the Church, saying that the family needed a holy man to pray for their souls. As for the second who just fell to his death, the third who drowned, and the fourth, now hiding in the family chapel, he never spoke much about them. I’ve told you what he said about Raoul.”

Hugh rubbed his hands and walked to the table where he considered pouring another mazer of wine. “In truth, I knew none of them well,” he said. Deciding he would drink no more, he faced his sister. “What cause had I to doubt the baron’s judgement on his own children?”

“Why take his nephew with him to Outremer? Surely he would have been happier bringing one of his sons? Were they disinclined to war, they still would have understood the service to God in reclaiming Jerusalem. Even the one bound for the Church would agree, although he might have chosen not to wield a sword.” Eleanor knew that bishops had often used maces to avoid the prohibition against shedding blood when they decided to go into battle. The fine distinction between mace and sword had always escaped her.

“Leonel was the best choice for more than one reason. The nephew inherited nothing from his own father, a man most imprudent and cursed with foolish vices. What land he owned as the second son was sold by Baron Herbert to pay off gaming debts. The babe and mother would have starved, had the uncle been a less honorable man. With five sons of his own and those debts to clear, he had nothing to give his nephew except horse and armor. He hoped Leonel would acquire enough wealth for himself in Outremer.”

“And the baron’s sons were content to stay in England, rejecting the glory of taking the cross?”

“The eldest did complain, but his father refused his request. He trusted him to guard all he possessed, then accepted the plea of the second-born to remain in England as well. The other three were too young to go. Since the eldest died of a mortal fever, Herbert was wise to leave two sons of mature years to safeguard his lands. As we all learned, a crusader’s lands may have been placed under God’s protection by Rome, but men do not always honor God’s will. Too many men who took the cross came home to nothing.” He shook his head. “Apart from the eldest, only Raoul demanded to go with his father.”

“Raoul?”

“Puppy that he was, he whimpered and moaned. When Herbert wearied of the noise, he stood the boy on a table in front of witnesses, stripped him, and felt between his legs. The baron declared the lad still a babe and sent Raoul off to find his mother, wailing like a newborn.”

A cruel story, Eleanor thought, and noted that her brother’s expression revealed no joy in the tale either. When Hugh’s own son, Richard, came to him in like manner and begged to be taken on the voyage with Lord Edward, her brother denied the child’s request with gentle words and then convinced him he would be a braver boy for staying home.

In the firelight, Hugh’s face was grey with fatigue.