The items offered in these little shops were much simpler. He purchased a few things, then saw one item that impressed him. A circlet for a woman’s head, made of silver. The metal had been braided before a fire had melted it all together. The silversmith showed how, with the right bale, a jewel could be slid on to dangle on the woman’s forehead.
He bought it. He would give it to Elinor, no matter what happened this day. She would accept it, he assumed. If her father lived, she would see it as a gift from her lover. If her father died, she would take it as compensation for her loss. Elinor was beautiful and proud, but she was also very practical.
When he entered the Great Hall a short while later, the midday meal was underway. He ate his fill, then prepared his mind for Lord Yves. It was doubtful the lord would be swayed, but Zander believed he had to make one more effort to stop this personal combat.
He was starting to leave when another guest slid onto the bench across the board from him. Lord Marcus smiled while he broke some bread.
“I told you the money was on your being the champion. Soon now.”
“It helped that two of the best jousters withdrew. Undefeated in the past, both of them.”
“You are too modest.”
A page brought Lord Marcus a wooden board with cheese and bread and set down some ale.
“How closely are you related to the last Earl of Essex?” Lord Marcus asked. “William de Mandeville.”
“Close enough that I could not marry his daughter. Distant enough that he knew nothing about me.”
Lord Marcus thought about that. “You never met him? He carried the crown at Richard’s coronation.”
“I was not there. I remained in France, along with most of the army.”
More thinking. “If you are close enough that you could not marry his daughter, you are close enough to have a claim on his title.”
“Only if someone knows how to twist the limbs on a family tree.”
“There are those who do nothing else.” He leaned in. “Most of them have judgments that can be influenced.”
Perhaps. For a price. A large price. More than Zander expected to have, even if he pillaged this tournament for all it was worth. And if the influence depended on other than coin, he had nothing at all to offer.
The man sitting across from him did, however.
Lord Marcus looked at him. He looked back. The negotiations over this marriage had just become much more interesting.
Zander went up to the battlements. While he watched the competitions on the field, Lord Marcus’s words filled his mind. It felt like a betrayal of Elinor to pay those overtures any mind at all, especially coming so soon after she’d given herself to him.
He did not feel too guilty, however. Lord Marcus had just dangled much more than land and money. There were good marriages to be had, and then there were really good marriages.
He realized he was no longer alone on the battlements. Lord Yves had arrived and watched the field just as he did. After a particularly interesting match ended, Lord Yves noticed him and walked over. “There are three strong contenders for the champion. You are one, but that last joust has made the next two competitions critical to the outcome.”
Zander said nothing to that. He was not in a friendly mood toward Lord Yves today.
“Marcus spoke to you about his daughter?”
Of course Lord Yves would know. He knew everything, apparently. He probably chose his servants for their ability to hear whispers through the din of a full hall.
“Do not put too much weight on his loyalties. You only have the ones you do because of your history with Richard and your service now with Fitzwarryn. However it ends will be good enough for most of us.”
“Is it so simple for you? That it matters not which brother is king and one is as good as another?”
“Since neither one will be a great king, yes.”
“I suppose that is what Lord Marcus has been saying. Yet if John moves against Richard, there will be death and destruction in the realm. Good men will die for something you and he see as of no consequence. Nor will you be able to keep one foot in each camp.”
“These lands are far from London and the regions where there will be fighting. Lord Jean’s are too. Marcus, however, may have to choose.”
“He will choose John.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I have reason to think so.”
“You are a better spy than even I thought. What reason might this be?”
“I may be a good spy, but I am not your spy.”
“Pity. Is this reason strong enough to refuse that dowry? You will curse yourself until the day you die if you do.”
Zander knew that.
Lord Yves sighed as if the conversation had lost his interest. “By this evening you will know what to do. Lady Elinor will never have you if you are victorious and her father is killed. And if you are killed instead, well—” He shrugged.
Zander pushed away from the wall so he did not put his fist into his host’s face.
CHAPTER NINE
Elinor filled her day with duties, but they never distracted her from what was coming. She made sure her father’s crimson surcoat looked fitting for his combat and laid out his repaired mail. She placed the new armor for his shoulders and arms beside it, and cooked some fowl so he might have a decent meal to help his strength.
Then she walked through the camps, hearing whispers as she passed, knowing people already pitied her because soon she would be without her father’s protection. Combats to the death were uncommon
