Harry’s fingers move down to the cleft in Iain’s bottom.
They find something to do.
The party of travellers arrive into the English camp with Iain under a white flag of parley, and Geoffrey immediately obtains an audience with the King. He stays long enough to see the look on Edward’s face when Iain takes off his helmet. Then the lawyer bows, smiling, out of the King’s bedchamber to leave them in privacy.
As always, Harry kneels in the presence of his king, but Iain remains standing. Edward strides up and embraces Iain.
‘Cousin,’ Iain rasps. ‘Please excuse my voice. Crossbow bolts make terrible surgical implements.’
Edward grins, and indicates that Harry may stand. ‘We see the years haven’t tamed you any.’ Then his brows draw together. ‘Out of curiosity, do you kneel for Philip of Valois?’
Iain shakes his head. ‘Fret not. I only kneel for one man, and it is neither of you, my cousins.’
Harry ducks his head as he stands, hoping nobody notices either his blush or the twitching of his loins.
Edward laughs. ‘Please don’t tell us it’s the King of Scotland. Our pride couldn’t take it.’
‘Not him,’ Iain smiles.
And the King, damn him, glances directly at Harry. Harry’s cheeks burn with the heat of fresh embarrassment. It’s not made any better when the King continues to stare right at him and says, ‘Whoever this man is, he is incredibly lucky, having you at his command.’
‘He knows,’ Iain says, a fond expression on his face. Then he fidgets, and paces away. ‘I wanted to tell you I’ve formally abdicated any claim to the throne of France, legally, in front of Philip of Valois, in exchange for recognition, and my mother’s titles and lands. I don’t want to be a king,’ he says in his broken whisper.
‘We don’t blame you,’ Edward says, though his eyebrows are halfway up his forehead in surprise. ‘What will you do after this? Are you staying on in France?’
‘It depends on whether my business here is finished,’ Iain replies.
‘And what is that?’ Edward asks.
‘The destruction of William Montagu, Robert Ufford and the nine other knights who rode with him to Galloway to kill my mother and kidnap me,’ Iain says. ‘The knights are dead, mostly by my hand. Only the earls remain.’
The King tilts his head. ‘You wish … Montagu’s life?’
‘No,’ says Iain. ‘I intend to do much worse than kill him.’ He turns to Harry.
‘There were actually twelve men with Montagu,’ Harry explains. ‘I was the twelfth. I asked Montagu afterwards why he had done this, and who Iain was. He said to me that this is what happens when power moves on and leaves people behind. That every hundred years Europe loses a third of its noble houses. That most don’t fall very far, but some, like Iain’s, fall very far indeed.’
‘It is true,’ Edward says softly. ‘The turbulent reigns, like our father’s, don’t help with that. We are doing what we can to win back the loyalty of the people that Despenser and Mortimer ruined, but we can’t fix all of it, much as we’d like to.’ The King sighs. ‘And we had hoped, during our reign, to avoid the sorts of men that destroyed our father’s years as king. The men who claim to be for England, but in fact think only of themselves.’
Harry smiles, and finds himself a seat on a bench. He rifles in his saddlebags for the papers the French sent over. ‘We did our best at the negotiation. However, the French could not overlook his and Rabbie’s abuse of, and attempts to kill, a full-blood Capet heir. Montagu, through his own machinations, has put you deeply in debt to the French crown. His ransom is an extortionate amount of money. If you confiscate all of his and Ufford’s lands to pay their ransoms, not only would it allow you financially to continue the war, I can pretty much guarantee Iain would be with me in Devon when the battles commence, rather than in black armour, fighting for the French.’ Harry shifts, and hands over the parchment with the negotiation terms on it. ‘The other condition of the ransom, of course, is that Montagu and Ufford never set foot in France again.’
Edward narrows his eyes, lowering himself carefully to sit at a campaign table. ‘Your points are good. We will consider them.’ Then he frowns. ‘There is something we don’t like, however.’
‘What is it, Your Majesty?’ Harry says.
‘Your terms have averted a war and eliminated the enemy’s greatest knight. And yet you ask no prize from this, Sir Harry? Are you sure? We badly need a new earl, to replace the two who have just rendered themselves useless.’
Harry shakes his head. ‘An earldom is too much for a simple country knight like me.’ Then he looks over at Iain, his voice growing thick. ‘Besides, he kneels for me. What greater prize is there?’
‘Indeed,’ the King smiles, bright as a sunny day. Then his nose wrinkles, like a child denied a toy. ‘Dammit, we need people like you. Both of you. You are interesting to us because you want nothing of us.’
Harry goes to refuse, but Iain gets there first. ‘Yon great Sassenach idiot is too modest to ask to manage Rabbie Ufford’s Devon lands for the crown. They border his, and honestly, there’s nobody better.’
The King nods. ‘So it shall be. We will send a man with the paperwork before the summer begins. And—’ he pauses, tucking a lock of his strawberry-blond hair behind his ear— ‘do think over our other offers. Not now. You both deserve your rest now.’
‘You honour us, but …’ Iain shakes his head. ‘I will not fight against the French or the Scots. Not against my own people. However, if you need diplomats—’ Iain glances over at Harry, who smiles his agreement— ‘we would happily be of service.’
‘Then let us embrace you both one last time, and wish you Godspeed on your journey home,’ the King says.
Epilogue
Harry and
