Bride of the Tower Read Online Free PDF Page B

anyway! Birkland was but a small part of the territory FitzClifford held for both himself and his wife. ’Twas a wonder he should recall ’twas his to command. But remember it he did, far too often for Richard’s peace of mind. The steadfast nobleman and hiswell-connected friends made Richard’s life a constant battle, as he sought to balance the commands and desires of Birkland’s owner against his own more profitable aspirations.
    How could a man of wealth and power such as Lord Rannulf maintain his allegiance to a boy king, rather than take full advantage of the opportunity provided to put a true leader—one who would reward his friends well—in his place? The fact that Lord William Marshal, the vaunted Earl of Pembroke, stood as regent and advisor to young King Henry made little difference, so far as Richard could see. Pah, the man was ancient, a long way past his prime.
    What did it matter that he’d been the most notable warrior in all England once, when that time had been decades ago? He was so old, ’twould be a miracle if he recognized his own vassals now. ’Twas a mystery why anyone would swear fealty to such a man and remain loyal to him and their weak king—and a misery for Richard, since his own loyalty rested wherever he could find the best prospect for personal gain.
    And now to have one of FitzClifford’s lackeys nosing about…Generally Lord Rannulf sent orders by way of a messenger, not a trusted knightfrom his personal troop. Sir William Bowman had been a part of Lord Rannulf’s inner circle since before he’d won his spurs.
    Something must have made FitzClifford suspicious about where Richard’s allegiance lay. What other reason could Bowman have had to break his journey at Birkland? To deliver a message from Lord Rannulf that said next to nothing, while affording Bowman the opportunity to pry into Richard’s affairs? It seemed impossible that word of his activities could have reached Fitz-Clifford, who dwelt in one of the most remote parts of the kingdom—and so swiftly, too—but he could think of no other reason for Bowman’s visit.
    If the truth of Richard’s involvement in the plans to overthrow the young king came to light, the best he could hope for would be a swift death. No matter that he saw no sin in working to aid those with some power to gain it all; others would see his actions as treason.
    He’d simply have to make certain he remained on the side that won.
    He strode into the shadowy depths of the stable, shuddering at the sudden chill that skittered down his spine. The darkness brought to mind the torture,maiming and worse that had haunted his dreams in the two nights since Bowman had arrived at Birkland. A traitor’s reward—or the fears of a guilty man, mayhap—but also a powerful spur to goad him toward the successful completion of his plans.
    Escorting Bowman on his way—into the maze-like depths of Sherwood, Richard reflected, giving a satisfied chuckle—had been a masterstroke. The man had even thanked him for his consideration! If the man found his way out of the wood, ’twould certainly delay his journey.
    If he survived…
    Yet Richard couldn’t quite rid himself of the sensation that he had an arrow aimed at his back as he stood on the battlements, poised and ready to help him lose his balance and propel to his doom.
    Although he’d sent two of his own trusted men after Bowman later, to do whatever necessary to ensure that the man never left the infamous forest, his uneasiness had yet to diminish.
    Perhaps the fact that he had heard nothing from the pair of worthless idiots since they’d gone out after Bowman accounted for his continuing apprehension.
    He’d taken care of every detail, he was sure of it. He couldn’t hide the fact that Bowman had entered Birkland—unfortunately too many people had seen and spoken with him for that—but Richard stood ready, if necessary, to swear Bowman hadn’t delivered any messages from Lord Rannulf to him.
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