Denial II, Chapter 2: Men of Letters
Introduction and chapter links for Denial II are here...
Title: Denial II, Chapter 2: Men of Letters
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Much, Carter, King Richard/Legrand, Will/Djaq, Little John, Robin
Mentions: Allan, Queen Eleanor
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama
Words: 3916
Warnings: Slash (hinted at)
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender
Summary: King Richard finally receives the letter from Queen Eleanor that confirms the gang's innocence in the attacks on both their lives...
>>-------------------->
Chapter 2: Men of Letters
"God's truth - I swear you leeches will be the death of me!"
Carter and Much could hear Richard's voice raised in anger as they approached his tent. It was a good sign - if he was angry, he was healthy.
The guard announced them and after a brief pause he came back out and ushered them into the king's presence.
Richard was sitting bare-chested on his bed as a very-nervous looking healer applied a salve to the arrow wound in his back. His arm was cushioned in a more secure sling.
Richard looked up and saw them both looking at his arm. "Nothing broken, just need to rest it for a day or so they say. Would be my sword arm of course," he said bitterly.
"We are delighted to hear there is no serious injury to your Grace's person," Carter said smoothly.
"I'm sure you are - since if there had been, you would probably be joining Legrand, Locksley and Locksley's men on charges of treason." Richard waved the healer away and the man bowed and scurried from the tent. "I am satisfied that today's meeting was indeed a trap, but there are still many other things to be discussed. Not least why James is lying dead in his tent."
"We are all too aware of that, Sire," Carter said. He drew the letter James intercepted from Queen Eleanor out of his tunic and handed it to Richard. "I believe you should see this. If you can find the messenger who delivered it to James, he will confirm that it is not the first letter from your mother that has never reached your hands."
"From my... Give me that." Richard read through the letter, his face darkening with anger one moment and clouding with remorse the next. Once he finished, he placed the letter beside him, picked up his wine and took a long drink. He dismissed the guards. "Leave us."
The guards bowed and departed to take up stations outside.
Much and Carter waited patiently while Richard sat deep in thought.
"I have been a fool," he said eventually. He picked up the letter again and muttered as he skimmed through it for the passages he wished to share with them. "'Dearest son....no reply to previous letters...fear intercepted...' Ah. 'I hope you will send me, with greatest haste, any word you may receive on Guillaume Legrand's health. He was gravely injured defending me against Vaizey's mercenaries and I am still fearful for his life. Locksley's Saracen physician is a very talented young woman, but his wounds were severe and may yet have proved fatal'...'no man in England more true to your cause than Locksley'...'tireless defender'...'his men are low-born but noble of heart and no less loyal'...and so on and so on."
He threw the letter down with an exasperated sigh. "How could I have allowed myself to be so grossly deceived? I've known Robin for years and should never have doubted him for an instant. And Legrand has been by my side almost since I first held a sword." He looked up at Carter and Much. "There are many things that I must put right. Carter - go fetch Legrand while I have a serious talk with your squire here...."
>>-------------------->
"Then it's settled. Carter - you can see to the details. I look forward to seeing you all in the morning, gentlemen." Richard dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, Sire." Carter, Much and Legrand all bowed and backed towards the tent's entrance.
"Not you, Legrand."
Legrand walked back to the centre of the tent and stood at attention, with his hands clasped behind his back as Much and Carter left. The guards were still outside so he and Richard were now alone.
Richard sat on his throne, carefully studying the man standing before him. How many nights had they spent together in the past? Hundreds probably - but not for many years now.
Legrand had never once used his position as Richard's favourite for any sort of personal gain. Others managed to find themselves stations towards the back of the order of battle, but Legrand was among the first in every charge. And despite his fearsome and well-earned reputation he could not escape unscathed forever. The battle in which Legrand received the scars across his face had all but won Richard his throne and had won Legrand great renown - but it had lost him Richard's affections.
Richard did not care to be reminded of battle while he made love. He sought beauty in his bed. Sending Locksley home had been painful, but better than having to admit he could no longer look at that once-perfect young body, now forever marked by war and suffering.
"Take your tunic off," Richard ordered.
Legrand had not had the opportunity to put his armour back on so was wearing only a long tunic over his leggings. He looked surprised by Richard's command but quickly fixed his gaze on the wall of the tent behind Richard and did as instructed. He held his tunic bundled in his hands and resumed his former position.
Richard stood up, walked directly in front of Legrand and studied his chest. He pointed to the scar under Legrand's ribs. "Was this the one from Vaizey's dagger?"
"Yes, Sire."
It was an ugly wound - easy to see how it had come close to costing him his life. "My mother said you sustained several other injuries...?"
"An arrow to the centre of my chest and two more in my back, Sire. Fortunately my chain stopped them penetrating too deeply."
Richard stepped slowly around him, looking at those scars and the many others besides. "Been a long time since I've seen your back, Guillaume," he observed.
"Yes, Sire."
Richard completed his short walk around Legrand and came to a halt in front of him again. "I apologise for doubting you. I thought I had lost your love and you had betrayed me. I know now only one of those things is true."
"You were deliberately deceived, Sire. I do not consider that you have anything to apologise for...and..."
"And?"
"And I will always love you, Sire."
"But not in the same way you used to... and it is not Locksley?"
"No, Sire, not Locksley."
"Then who?"
"He is...another Englishman."
Richard smiled. "Maybe I should return to Nottingham if all the men around there are so captivating; Locksley, Squire Much and now your mystery man. Have I met him?
"Yes, Sire, briefly."
Richard considered for a moment. "Hmmm. Not Locksley. Which means it must be one of his men. The younger one is certainly attractive..." He watched Legrand like a hawk for any hint of a reaction. "But a little too thin for your tastes, I fancy. The gruff older one then - felt like more of an equal fight, did you?" Richard smiled as he saw Legrand's eye twitch. "And does he return your love?"
Legrand hesitated and then shook his head.
Richard sighed affectionately. "What are we going to do with you, Guillaume? You are as reckless with your heart as you are in battle."
"Yes, Sire."
"Well I have some good news for you at least. My mother requested that should I see you - or Locksley - I should remind you of her invitation to join her at Poitiers. When Locksley returns home, you, Carter and Much shall accompany him as far as Poitiers before returning here. I have several vital messages I wish personally delivered to the queen and few couriers I can trust to take them."
"But Sire, I assure you - I am more than fit for battle again," Legrand protested. "Surely it will not take three of us--"
Richard silenced him with a stern look. "She has requested you personally, Guillaume. Would you have me deny my mother's wishes?"
"No, Sire."
"No. And it will afford you a few more weeks in your beloved's company to perhaps change his mind."
"He is...he is a lover of women, Sire. I have little hope of changing him."
"Is he now? Would one of these women be my mother by any chance?"
Legrand looked shocked. "He is a peasant, sire. I assure you neither myself nor Locksley would have permitted him--"
"God's balls, Guillaume. I'm sure he wouldn't dare lay a finger on her. But I'd bet my crown she liked the look of him."
"Your mother...seemed entertained by his company, Sire," Legrand said carefully.
Richard laughed. "Ha! I knew it. She never could resist a bit of brawn. Give him a few days at Poitiers with her chasing after him and he may decide you're the better option after all."
Legrand smiled wryly. "I doubt it, Sire, but thank you."
"Nonsense." Richard reached out and traced his fingers across Legrand's chest. "How could he resist your sizeable charms?"
Richard felt Legrand's muscles growing taut with nerves under his hand and saw the accompanying flush across his skin.
Legrand swallowed. "Sire, I..."
Richard dropped his arm. "I should not be so unkind to you, Guillaume. After all you have done for me."
Legrand sighed. "I have done nothing but my duty, Sire. And you have never been unkind. Merely allowing me to be in your presence is a kindness. And one I shall always treasure."
Richard took Legrand's chin in his hand and studied his eyes closely. "Your heart is not entirely lost to me, then?"
Legrand smiled. "Never, Sire."
Richard pulled Legrand's face down towards his. "Nor mine to you, I promise you..."
>>-------------------->
Will wakened and stretched. A pale light and the sounds of King Richard's camp stirring to life filtered through the canvas around him. He glanced over to the other cot in the small soldiers tent where John lay sprawled on his back, still fast asleep.
John had stayed with Allan far longer than he should and when he came to wake Will, Djaq had insisted she should go instead. They'd argued about it in hushed voices as John had collapsed into the other bed, but Will knew that even if he persuaded Djaq it was his turn, she would only wait and then follow after him, so after making his displeasure clear, he had given in and gone back to sleep.
"John?"
John's eyes blinked open and he yawned and then looked over. "Morning, Will."
"Do you know where any of the others' tents are?"
John thought. "I could probably find Much and Carter's again. I've no idea where Legrand and Robin's are."
"Legrand is right here." Legrand ducked under the entrance to their tent. He was back in full armour and looked quite serious. He tossed a spare shirt of his own towards John. "If you gentlemen have enjoyed lounging around in bed long enough, the king would like to see you."
John and Will looked at each other in surprise and then threw themselves from their cots. They washed and dressed in a hurry while trying to make themselves look as presentable as possible.
"Where is Djaq?" Legrand asked.
"She got up earlier and went to check on Allan," Will replied with a hint of bitterness. "I'll go get her."
"No need. I'll send somebody for her."
Will and John exchanged another look. That didn't sound good.
They followed Legrand to the king's tent and waited outside as the guard announced them. "The Comte de Châtellerault, John Little and William Scarlett, Your Grace."
"Enter."
Richard was sitting on his throne, his arm still in its sling. Several clerks bustled around with documents for his attention, showing that Richard had decided to put his temporary enforced inactivity to good use. Richard looked up as the three men entered and gestured towards Robin who was already present and standing off to one side.
John and Will hurried over to him and they talked as more people were announced and the tent gradually filled up with very solemn-faced knights, all in full battle dress.
"What's going on, Robin?" Will whispered.
"I'm not sure. Legrand just said the king asked to see me."
"Same here," Will said.
"He can't still be angry about yesterday, can he?" John asked.
Robin frowned. "No, I'm sure that's all forgiven. Much and Carter will have given him the queen's letter."
"So where are they?" Will wondered.
"Will, what is happening?" Djaq appeared beside them, looking concerned. "Two soldiers brought me here from the healer's tent."
"I don't know, my love. We'll just need to wait and see." He put his arm around her protectively. "How is Allan?"
"I think he will live, but I would prefer to move him away from this camp. Perhaps I will see if I can arrange for him to be taken to Bassam's in a few days. I will be able to care better for him there."
"Just you?" Will asked.
"Once he is settled I should be able to look after him by myself, yes."
Will frowned. "I'm not sure Djaq. Maybe--" He stopped short at a dig in the ribs from John and realised the rest of the tent's occupants had fallen silent.
Richard was looking over at them, surveying each of them in turn. His gaze seemed to linger longest on John but his face was neither stern nor smiling, giving no clue as to his current mood. "Thank you for coming so promptly. I have several matters to attend to this morning, but first, there is one long overdue ceremony to perform." Richard nodded to Legrand who nodded back then strode from the tent.
A moment later the guard by the entrance drew aside the opening and Much entered. He was in full armour but instead of his red squire's tunic, he was wearing a plain white one. He looked tired but also serious and solemn. He got down on one knee in the centre of the tent in front of Richard.
Carter followed directly behind him with a folded swathe of white cloth in his arms and Much's sword laid across it. He placed the bundle to one side, picked up the sword, and something else Will couldn't quite see, and then stood behind and slightly to one side of Much.
Legrand entered behind Carter, carrying what looked to be a large shield covered with a white cloth. He also stood behind Much, on the opposite side from Carter.
Carter leaned over to give Legrand the other thing he had picked up and Will finally saw it was a bright pair of new spurs.
Robin gasped and Will, Djaq and John all turned to look at him. He directed their attention back to Much.
Richard stood up and removed the sling from around his arm. He stood directly in front of Much. "Who sponsors this man?"
"I do, Sire," Carter and Legrand replied in unison.
Richard looked down at Much's bowed head.
Much found a spot on the floor he could fix his stare on. He was sure everyone in the tent could see him trembling with nerves. He concentrated on keeping his breathing steady, knowing he would have to speak shortly.
King Richard's voice seemed to come from much further above him than he had expected.
"Squire, you have proven yourself worthy in battle many times over. You have spent the night in holy prayer and been confessed and cleansed this morning. Do you solemnly swear to uphold the laws of chivalry, defend the weak, be courteous to all women, be loyal to your king, and serve God at all times?"
"I so swear, my Lord," Much replied clearly.
"Then it is my privilege to dub thee Sir Much, Earl of Bonchurch and knight of England." Richard cuffed the side of Much's head, knocking him to one side.
Much put his hand on the ground to steady himself, grateful that Richard's arm was not at full strength. Carter had said - only half-jokingly - that his ears had rung for a full hour after his own dubbing from the king.
"Thank you, Sire." Much's voice cracked and his lip trembled as he fought to contain his emotion. He slowly got to his feet.
Carter secured Much's sword around his waist as Legrand set aside the shield and knelt to fasten on Much's spurs. Carter then unfolded the cape he had been carrying. It bore the Crusader cross and the emblem of the king's Private Guard, identical to both Carter and Legrand's. He fastened it around Much's shoulders and then stepped back, eyes bright with pride.
Legrand picked up the shield and stood in front of Much. He grabbed the white cloth covering it and tugged it off in one smooth motion.
Much's eyes widened. The shield was magnificent.
"Vair," Legrand explained. "A cross gules, thereupon a sword or, entwined with lavender."
Much knew 'gules' was red and 'or' was gold but the first? "Vair?" Much asked.
"It's a pattern representing squirrel fur." Legrand tried, but failed, to suppress a grin. He turned the shield round and held it out so Much could mount it on his arm.
Much smiled as he realised they'd even positioned the grips the correct way round for his right hand. He remembered the first few weeks Robin had tried to train him in using a sword and how awful he'd been until Robin realised Much was trying to disguise the fact he was left-handed and let him switch.
"Superstitious rubbish," Robin scoffed at Much's protests that he would be considered unlucky - a 'sinister' influence. "Fighting left handed will give you an added element of surprise."
"Congratulations, Sir Much. An honour very well deserved," Richard said as he clapped him on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Sire."
Richard stepped back and Carter grabbed Much in a huge embrace. "I'm so proud of you, Much."
"Thank you. You helped with the shield, didn't you?" Much whispered to him.
"I may have had some say in the matter." Carter grinned.
Legrand thumped him on the back, rattling Much's teeth. "Well done - I've already heard of some of your exploits from the other guards. You'll make an excellent knight."
"Thank you, Legrand." Much turned to Robin, Will and John.
John was whispering in Will's ear and they were both smiling broadly.
"What?" Much was instantly suspicious.
"Nothing..." Will and John both answered, then bowed and said, "My Lord," without a trace of mockery.
Much remembered how much they had teased him when he'd initially requested they give him his due as Earl of Bonchurch. To see both these men he admired in different ways showing him such respect brought fresh tears to his eyes. "You...you really don't have to do that," he said sheepishly.
"Yes, we do. It's your right and you've earned it," Will replied. John nodded in agreement.
"Much...congratulations," Robin said as he pulled him into a fierce embrace. "I'm...I'm very happy for you. It's no less than you deserve. I just wish I'd been able to give you that title properly myself."
"Thank you, Robin. But I would never have been here at all without you. I owe you and Carter so much."
"You don't owe me a thing, my old friend."
Not a thing... Robin almost choked on his words as he realised the truth of them. Much was not just his own man now, but Robin's equal. No, not equal. Robin glanced at Carter who was hugging Much again. Much had everything he'd ever wanted while Robin had his title in name only and would never know love again. Robin turned away, bitterness and jealousy churning in his gut, not wishing the others to see the pain he knew must be on his face.
"And now...to other matters." The king's voice drew their attention back to him. "Step forward, Robin of Locksley."
The others moved back to their former positions. Much, Carter and Legrand stood off to the other side of the tent facing Will, Djaq and John.
Robin stood on his own in front of Richard's throne. He got down on one knee and bowed his head. "Your Grace."
Richard spoke gently, with clear affection but also with regret. "Robin, your title has been stripped and you have been declared outlaw by duly appointed authorities. I am sure these charges are false and you have only ever acted honourably. However I cannot publicly go against the rule of law in Nottingham without due process - no matter how corrupt that rule may be. For that I am truly sorry. When I return we will put all these matters to rights but it must be done properly and, more importantly, be seen to be done properly. I hope you understand."
Robin nodded. "Yes, Sire." He risked a sideways glance to his right.
Will and John looked mildly stunned at the news that they were, in effect, to remain outlaws. He knew they'd hoped for more - he certainly had.
"Until that day, I shall make it known as widely as possible that - outlaw though you may be - you are under my protection until you have met the charges against you in a fair trial under my jurisdiction."
Robin said nothing. Prince John and the sheriff would care little for such an instruction. 'Accidents' could easily be arranged.
"In the meantime I hope you will take this as a small token of my gratitude and proof of the affection in which I hold you." Richard gestured to a squire who stepped forward and presented Robin with a sword.
Robin drew it from the intricately tooled scabbard and heard the murmur of admiration from the others in the tent as he hefted it, feeling its perfect weight and balance. It had a highly polished finish and was engraved to match the leather-work of the scabbard, but it was clearly a sword meant for fighting and not display.
Robin slid it back into its sheath and bowed to Richard. "Thank you, Sire."
"Is there anything else I could possibly grant you?" Richard asked.
I have lost my lands, my liberty and my love - what else matters? Robin thought bitterly. He looked to his right again and, as the answer occurred to him, he felt his heart grow even heavier. He was not the only one who had suffered loss thanks to the sheriff and Prince John. "I would ask that your protection and gratitude be extended to my men, Sire. They were just as much a part of your rescue, and that of your mother, as I was."
"Agreed. My mother spoke very highly of them and I have seen why for myself. Is there anything I could grant to them in anticipation of their names being cleared?"
John shook his head and looked down at the floor. Robin could see he was blushing, probably at the mention of the queen's praise.
Djaq also shook her head but, to Robin's surprise, Will cleared his throat.
"Ummm, Your...Your Grace," he said nervously. "I would..." He stopped and looked at Djaq then took her hand in his. "We would be greatly honoured if...if you would marry us."
Richard's eyes widened in surprise at the request but then he smiled. "I'd be delighted."
Djaq tugged at Will's sleeve. "We are already married," she hissed.
"I know. But this way no one can ever contradict it. Please, Djaq. Marry me?"
Djaq smiled. "Of course. But if we are doing this properly then I will have one or two things to prepare first."
Next Chapter...
Title: Denial II, Chapter 2: Men of Letters
Author: wastingyourgum
Characters/Pairings: Much, Carter, King Richard/Legrand, Will/Djaq, Little John, Robin
Mentions: Allan, Queen Eleanor
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama
Words: 3916
Warnings: Slash (hinted at)
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; we just want to play in their universe
Notes: Beta'd by teamlavender
Summary: King Richard finally receives the letter from Queen Eleanor that confirms the gang's innocence in the attacks on both their lives...
>>-------------------->
Chapter 2: Men of Letters
"God's truth - I swear you leeches will be the death of me!"
Carter and Much could hear Richard's voice raised in anger as they approached his tent. It was a good sign - if he was angry, he was healthy.
The guard announced them and after a brief pause he came back out and ushered them into the king's presence.
Richard was sitting bare-chested on his bed as a very-nervous looking healer applied a salve to the arrow wound in his back. His arm was cushioned in a more secure sling.
Richard looked up and saw them both looking at his arm. "Nothing broken, just need to rest it for a day or so they say. Would be my sword arm of course," he said bitterly.
"We are delighted to hear there is no serious injury to your Grace's person," Carter said smoothly.
"I'm sure you are - since if there had been, you would probably be joining Legrand, Locksley and Locksley's men on charges of treason." Richard waved the healer away and the man bowed and scurried from the tent. "I am satisfied that today's meeting was indeed a trap, but there are still many other things to be discussed. Not least why James is lying dead in his tent."
"We are all too aware of that, Sire," Carter said. He drew the letter James intercepted from Queen Eleanor out of his tunic and handed it to Richard. "I believe you should see this. If you can find the messenger who delivered it to James, he will confirm that it is not the first letter from your mother that has never reached your hands."
"From my... Give me that." Richard read through the letter, his face darkening with anger one moment and clouding with remorse the next. Once he finished, he placed the letter beside him, picked up his wine and took a long drink. He dismissed the guards. "Leave us."
The guards bowed and departed to take up stations outside.
Much and Carter waited patiently while Richard sat deep in thought.
"I have been a fool," he said eventually. He picked up the letter again and muttered as he skimmed through it for the passages he wished to share with them. "'Dearest son....no reply to previous letters...fear intercepted...' Ah. 'I hope you will send me, with greatest haste, any word you may receive on Guillaume Legrand's health. He was gravely injured defending me against Vaizey's mercenaries and I am still fearful for his life. Locksley's Saracen physician is a very talented young woman, but his wounds were severe and may yet have proved fatal'...'no man in England more true to your cause than Locksley'...'tireless defender'...'his men are low-born but noble of heart and no less loyal'...and so on and so on."
He threw the letter down with an exasperated sigh. "How could I have allowed myself to be so grossly deceived? I've known Robin for years and should never have doubted him for an instant. And Legrand has been by my side almost since I first held a sword." He looked up at Carter and Much. "There are many things that I must put right. Carter - go fetch Legrand while I have a serious talk with your squire here...."
>>-------------------->
"Then it's settled. Carter - you can see to the details. I look forward to seeing you all in the morning, gentlemen." Richard dismissed them with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, Sire." Carter, Much and Legrand all bowed and backed towards the tent's entrance.
"Not you, Legrand."
Legrand walked back to the centre of the tent and stood at attention, with his hands clasped behind his back as Much and Carter left. The guards were still outside so he and Richard were now alone.
Richard sat on his throne, carefully studying the man standing before him. How many nights had they spent together in the past? Hundreds probably - but not for many years now.
Legrand had never once used his position as Richard's favourite for any sort of personal gain. Others managed to find themselves stations towards the back of the order of battle, but Legrand was among the first in every charge. And despite his fearsome and well-earned reputation he could not escape unscathed forever. The battle in which Legrand received the scars across his face had all but won Richard his throne and had won Legrand great renown - but it had lost him Richard's affections.
Richard did not care to be reminded of battle while he made love. He sought beauty in his bed. Sending Locksley home had been painful, but better than having to admit he could no longer look at that once-perfect young body, now forever marked by war and suffering.
"Take your tunic off," Richard ordered.
Legrand had not had the opportunity to put his armour back on so was wearing only a long tunic over his leggings. He looked surprised by Richard's command but quickly fixed his gaze on the wall of the tent behind Richard and did as instructed. He held his tunic bundled in his hands and resumed his former position.
Richard stood up, walked directly in front of Legrand and studied his chest. He pointed to the scar under Legrand's ribs. "Was this the one from Vaizey's dagger?"
"Yes, Sire."
It was an ugly wound - easy to see how it had come close to costing him his life. "My mother said you sustained several other injuries...?"
"An arrow to the centre of my chest and two more in my back, Sire. Fortunately my chain stopped them penetrating too deeply."
Richard stepped slowly around him, looking at those scars and the many others besides. "Been a long time since I've seen your back, Guillaume," he observed.
"Yes, Sire."
Richard completed his short walk around Legrand and came to a halt in front of him again. "I apologise for doubting you. I thought I had lost your love and you had betrayed me. I know now only one of those things is true."
"You were deliberately deceived, Sire. I do not consider that you have anything to apologise for...and..."
"And?"
"And I will always love you, Sire."
"But not in the same way you used to... and it is not Locksley?"
"No, Sire, not Locksley."
"Then who?"
"He is...another Englishman."
Richard smiled. "Maybe I should return to Nottingham if all the men around there are so captivating; Locksley, Squire Much and now your mystery man. Have I met him?
"Yes, Sire, briefly."
Richard considered for a moment. "Hmmm. Not Locksley. Which means it must be one of his men. The younger one is certainly attractive..." He watched Legrand like a hawk for any hint of a reaction. "But a little too thin for your tastes, I fancy. The gruff older one then - felt like more of an equal fight, did you?" Richard smiled as he saw Legrand's eye twitch. "And does he return your love?"
Legrand hesitated and then shook his head.
Richard sighed affectionately. "What are we going to do with you, Guillaume? You are as reckless with your heart as you are in battle."
"Yes, Sire."
"Well I have some good news for you at least. My mother requested that should I see you - or Locksley - I should remind you of her invitation to join her at Poitiers. When Locksley returns home, you, Carter and Much shall accompany him as far as Poitiers before returning here. I have several vital messages I wish personally delivered to the queen and few couriers I can trust to take them."
"But Sire, I assure you - I am more than fit for battle again," Legrand protested. "Surely it will not take three of us--"
Richard silenced him with a stern look. "She has requested you personally, Guillaume. Would you have me deny my mother's wishes?"
"No, Sire."
"No. And it will afford you a few more weeks in your beloved's company to perhaps change his mind."
"He is...he is a lover of women, Sire. I have little hope of changing him."
"Is he now? Would one of these women be my mother by any chance?"
Legrand looked shocked. "He is a peasant, sire. I assure you neither myself nor Locksley would have permitted him--"
"God's balls, Guillaume. I'm sure he wouldn't dare lay a finger on her. But I'd bet my crown she liked the look of him."
"Your mother...seemed entertained by his company, Sire," Legrand said carefully.
Richard laughed. "Ha! I knew it. She never could resist a bit of brawn. Give him a few days at Poitiers with her chasing after him and he may decide you're the better option after all."
Legrand smiled wryly. "I doubt it, Sire, but thank you."
"Nonsense." Richard reached out and traced his fingers across Legrand's chest. "How could he resist your sizeable charms?"
Richard felt Legrand's muscles growing taut with nerves under his hand and saw the accompanying flush across his skin.
Legrand swallowed. "Sire, I..."
Richard dropped his arm. "I should not be so unkind to you, Guillaume. After all you have done for me."
Legrand sighed. "I have done nothing but my duty, Sire. And you have never been unkind. Merely allowing me to be in your presence is a kindness. And one I shall always treasure."
Richard took Legrand's chin in his hand and studied his eyes closely. "Your heart is not entirely lost to me, then?"
Legrand smiled. "Never, Sire."
Richard pulled Legrand's face down towards his. "Nor mine to you, I promise you..."
>>-------------------->
Will wakened and stretched. A pale light and the sounds of King Richard's camp stirring to life filtered through the canvas around him. He glanced over to the other cot in the small soldiers tent where John lay sprawled on his back, still fast asleep.
John had stayed with Allan far longer than he should and when he came to wake Will, Djaq had insisted she should go instead. They'd argued about it in hushed voices as John had collapsed into the other bed, but Will knew that even if he persuaded Djaq it was his turn, she would only wait and then follow after him, so after making his displeasure clear, he had given in and gone back to sleep.
"John?"
John's eyes blinked open and he yawned and then looked over. "Morning, Will."
"Do you know where any of the others' tents are?"
John thought. "I could probably find Much and Carter's again. I've no idea where Legrand and Robin's are."
"Legrand is right here." Legrand ducked under the entrance to their tent. He was back in full armour and looked quite serious. He tossed a spare shirt of his own towards John. "If you gentlemen have enjoyed lounging around in bed long enough, the king would like to see you."
John and Will looked at each other in surprise and then threw themselves from their cots. They washed and dressed in a hurry while trying to make themselves look as presentable as possible.
"Where is Djaq?" Legrand asked.
"She got up earlier and went to check on Allan," Will replied with a hint of bitterness. "I'll go get her."
"No need. I'll send somebody for her."
Will and John exchanged another look. That didn't sound good.
They followed Legrand to the king's tent and waited outside as the guard announced them. "The Comte de Châtellerault, John Little and William Scarlett, Your Grace."
"Enter."
Richard was sitting on his throne, his arm still in its sling. Several clerks bustled around with documents for his attention, showing that Richard had decided to put his temporary enforced inactivity to good use. Richard looked up as the three men entered and gestured towards Robin who was already present and standing off to one side.
John and Will hurried over to him and they talked as more people were announced and the tent gradually filled up with very solemn-faced knights, all in full battle dress.
"What's going on, Robin?" Will whispered.
"I'm not sure. Legrand just said the king asked to see me."
"Same here," Will said.
"He can't still be angry about yesterday, can he?" John asked.
Robin frowned. "No, I'm sure that's all forgiven. Much and Carter will have given him the queen's letter."
"So where are they?" Will wondered.
"Will, what is happening?" Djaq appeared beside them, looking concerned. "Two soldiers brought me here from the healer's tent."
"I don't know, my love. We'll just need to wait and see." He put his arm around her protectively. "How is Allan?"
"I think he will live, but I would prefer to move him away from this camp. Perhaps I will see if I can arrange for him to be taken to Bassam's in a few days. I will be able to care better for him there."
"Just you?" Will asked.
"Once he is settled I should be able to look after him by myself, yes."
Will frowned. "I'm not sure Djaq. Maybe--" He stopped short at a dig in the ribs from John and realised the rest of the tent's occupants had fallen silent.
Richard was looking over at them, surveying each of them in turn. His gaze seemed to linger longest on John but his face was neither stern nor smiling, giving no clue as to his current mood. "Thank you for coming so promptly. I have several matters to attend to this morning, but first, there is one long overdue ceremony to perform." Richard nodded to Legrand who nodded back then strode from the tent.
A moment later the guard by the entrance drew aside the opening and Much entered. He was in full armour but instead of his red squire's tunic, he was wearing a plain white one. He looked tired but also serious and solemn. He got down on one knee in the centre of the tent in front of Richard.
Carter followed directly behind him with a folded swathe of white cloth in his arms and Much's sword laid across it. He placed the bundle to one side, picked up the sword, and something else Will couldn't quite see, and then stood behind and slightly to one side of Much.
Legrand entered behind Carter, carrying what looked to be a large shield covered with a white cloth. He also stood behind Much, on the opposite side from Carter.
Carter leaned over to give Legrand the other thing he had picked up and Will finally saw it was a bright pair of new spurs.
Robin gasped and Will, Djaq and John all turned to look at him. He directed their attention back to Much.
Richard stood up and removed the sling from around his arm. He stood directly in front of Much. "Who sponsors this man?"
"I do, Sire," Carter and Legrand replied in unison.
Richard looked down at Much's bowed head.
Much found a spot on the floor he could fix his stare on. He was sure everyone in the tent could see him trembling with nerves. He concentrated on keeping his breathing steady, knowing he would have to speak shortly.
King Richard's voice seemed to come from much further above him than he had expected.
"Squire, you have proven yourself worthy in battle many times over. You have spent the night in holy prayer and been confessed and cleansed this morning. Do you solemnly swear to uphold the laws of chivalry, defend the weak, be courteous to all women, be loyal to your king, and serve God at all times?"
"I so swear, my Lord," Much replied clearly.
"Then it is my privilege to dub thee Sir Much, Earl of Bonchurch and knight of England." Richard cuffed the side of Much's head, knocking him to one side.
Much put his hand on the ground to steady himself, grateful that Richard's arm was not at full strength. Carter had said - only half-jokingly - that his ears had rung for a full hour after his own dubbing from the king.
"Thank you, Sire." Much's voice cracked and his lip trembled as he fought to contain his emotion. He slowly got to his feet.
Carter secured Much's sword around his waist as Legrand set aside the shield and knelt to fasten on Much's spurs. Carter then unfolded the cape he had been carrying. It bore the Crusader cross and the emblem of the king's Private Guard, identical to both Carter and Legrand's. He fastened it around Much's shoulders and then stepped back, eyes bright with pride.
Legrand picked up the shield and stood in front of Much. He grabbed the white cloth covering it and tugged it off in one smooth motion.
Much's eyes widened. The shield was magnificent.
"Vair," Legrand explained. "A cross gules, thereupon a sword or, entwined with lavender."
Much knew 'gules' was red and 'or' was gold but the first? "Vair?" Much asked.
"It's a pattern representing squirrel fur." Legrand tried, but failed, to suppress a grin. He turned the shield round and held it out so Much could mount it on his arm.
Much smiled as he realised they'd even positioned the grips the correct way round for his right hand. He remembered the first few weeks Robin had tried to train him in using a sword and how awful he'd been until Robin realised Much was trying to disguise the fact he was left-handed and let him switch.
"Superstitious rubbish," Robin scoffed at Much's protests that he would be considered unlucky - a 'sinister' influence. "Fighting left handed will give you an added element of surprise."
"Congratulations, Sir Much. An honour very well deserved," Richard said as he clapped him on the shoulder.
"Thank you, Sire."
Richard stepped back and Carter grabbed Much in a huge embrace. "I'm so proud of you, Much."
"Thank you. You helped with the shield, didn't you?" Much whispered to him.
"I may have had some say in the matter." Carter grinned.
Legrand thumped him on the back, rattling Much's teeth. "Well done - I've already heard of some of your exploits from the other guards. You'll make an excellent knight."
"Thank you, Legrand." Much turned to Robin, Will and John.
John was whispering in Will's ear and they were both smiling broadly.
"What?" Much was instantly suspicious.
"Nothing..." Will and John both answered, then bowed and said, "My Lord," without a trace of mockery.
Much remembered how much they had teased him when he'd initially requested they give him his due as Earl of Bonchurch. To see both these men he admired in different ways showing him such respect brought fresh tears to his eyes. "You...you really don't have to do that," he said sheepishly.
"Yes, we do. It's your right and you've earned it," Will replied. John nodded in agreement.
"Much...congratulations," Robin said as he pulled him into a fierce embrace. "I'm...I'm very happy for you. It's no less than you deserve. I just wish I'd been able to give you that title properly myself."
"Thank you, Robin. But I would never have been here at all without you. I owe you and Carter so much."
"You don't owe me a thing, my old friend."
Not a thing... Robin almost choked on his words as he realised the truth of them. Much was not just his own man now, but Robin's equal. No, not equal. Robin glanced at Carter who was hugging Much again. Much had everything he'd ever wanted while Robin had his title in name only and would never know love again. Robin turned away, bitterness and jealousy churning in his gut, not wishing the others to see the pain he knew must be on his face.
"And now...to other matters." The king's voice drew their attention back to him. "Step forward, Robin of Locksley."
The others moved back to their former positions. Much, Carter and Legrand stood off to the other side of the tent facing Will, Djaq and John.
Robin stood on his own in front of Richard's throne. He got down on one knee and bowed his head. "Your Grace."
Richard spoke gently, with clear affection but also with regret. "Robin, your title has been stripped and you have been declared outlaw by duly appointed authorities. I am sure these charges are false and you have only ever acted honourably. However I cannot publicly go against the rule of law in Nottingham without due process - no matter how corrupt that rule may be. For that I am truly sorry. When I return we will put all these matters to rights but it must be done properly and, more importantly, be seen to be done properly. I hope you understand."
Robin nodded. "Yes, Sire." He risked a sideways glance to his right.
Will and John looked mildly stunned at the news that they were, in effect, to remain outlaws. He knew they'd hoped for more - he certainly had.
"Until that day, I shall make it known as widely as possible that - outlaw though you may be - you are under my protection until you have met the charges against you in a fair trial under my jurisdiction."
Robin said nothing. Prince John and the sheriff would care little for such an instruction. 'Accidents' could easily be arranged.
"In the meantime I hope you will take this as a small token of my gratitude and proof of the affection in which I hold you." Richard gestured to a squire who stepped forward and presented Robin with a sword.
Robin drew it from the intricately tooled scabbard and heard the murmur of admiration from the others in the tent as he hefted it, feeling its perfect weight and balance. It had a highly polished finish and was engraved to match the leather-work of the scabbard, but it was clearly a sword meant for fighting and not display.
Robin slid it back into its sheath and bowed to Richard. "Thank you, Sire."
"Is there anything else I could possibly grant you?" Richard asked.
I have lost my lands, my liberty and my love - what else matters? Robin thought bitterly. He looked to his right again and, as the answer occurred to him, he felt his heart grow even heavier. He was not the only one who had suffered loss thanks to the sheriff and Prince John. "I would ask that your protection and gratitude be extended to my men, Sire. They were just as much a part of your rescue, and that of your mother, as I was."
"Agreed. My mother spoke very highly of them and I have seen why for myself. Is there anything I could grant to them in anticipation of their names being cleared?"
John shook his head and looked down at the floor. Robin could see he was blushing, probably at the mention of the queen's praise.
Djaq also shook her head but, to Robin's surprise, Will cleared his throat.
"Ummm, Your...Your Grace," he said nervously. "I would..." He stopped and looked at Djaq then took her hand in his. "We would be greatly honoured if...if you would marry us."
Richard's eyes widened in surprise at the request but then he smiled. "I'd be delighted."
Djaq tugged at Will's sleeve. "We are already married," she hissed.
"I know. But this way no one can ever contradict it. Please, Djaq. Marry me?"
Djaq smiled. "Of course. But if we are doing this properly then I will have one or two things to prepare first."
Next Chapter...