The Border Lord's Bride (37 page)

"It‘s always been that way in the borders, I am told," Margaret Beaufort said.

"Aye, but Colby attempted to gain my favor by trying to blackmail the Scots border lords into spying against their own king. Even I know that James Stewart is both popular and beloved among both his people and his lords. The Spanish ambassador wrote to me from Sterling that Colby managed to subvert one poor fool while attempting to make another of the Scots lords who refused his overtures look as if he were in collusion with England. Sadly the man he chose to be his scapegoat is both well liked and honest to a fault. It was he, with the Hepburn Earl of Bothwell‘s help, who raised a great force from among the border families and rode out against us. Colby has been exiled from my presence. The man is a fool at any rate, and of no real use to me."

But even as he said it Henry Tudor was thinking that perhaps Roger Colby could indeed be of use to him one more time. What if I offered Sir Roger the opportunity of regaining my royal favor? What if I hinted that James Stewart‘s death would be pleasing to me? And if the bumbling fool actually succeeded in murder, not that I expect he will, but if he did, believing he would regain my appreciation, then I could expose him as the assassin. I would deny all culpability, and Scotland would be thrown into turmoil while a struggle for power emerged. It would certainly give me peace on my northern border.

"Why are you smiling?" his young queen asked. Henry Tudor did not smile often.

"No reason, Bessie," the king answered her.

Margaret Beaufort‘s eyes narrowed. He was lying, but then sometimes it was better not to press her son. He obviously had had an idea, and didn‘t wish to share it.

And when he was alone again Henry Tudor considered whom he might use to gain Sir Roger Colby‘s ear. He needed someone discreet and totally loyal to Henry Tudor. There were many seeking his favor, and most had their own interests at heart first. Henry Tudor needed a man who would put the king‘s interests first. And then he remembered Sir Lionel de Frayne. His family was old and respected, but poor. Sir Lionel‘s family had no influence, nor coin to pay someone with influence to help them. What would be of use to such a man other than a bag of coins? A secure place in the royal household, with its guarantee of housing, food, clothing, and a small remuneration each Michaelmas? Aye! That was the lure he would use.

The king called his favorite page to his side. "Find Sir Lionel de Frayne and bring him to me here in my privy chamber," Henry Tudor said. "And be discreet, lad. Speak to no one of my request—neither my mother, nor the queen, nor any man."

The boy bowed with the elegance of a practiced courtier. "At once, my lord!" he said, and then he hurried off.

The king considered the plan forming in his mind. He would be candid with Sir Lionel. Friendly, but not too familiar. He would promise the man his position for life. But how much to confide in the man? How trustworthy was he? What he desired of Sir Roger Colby wasn‘t something he would trust to parchment. Colby was the sort who would not burn a message from the king, but keep it as insurance. Especially a message asking him to assassinate James Stewart. Now, there was a word he did not want to use. Assassinate. It sounded hostile, unfriendly. But if he put it more obliquely, would Sir Roger understand? Of course, the only thing that would matter to Colby was the chance to regain Henry Tudor‘s favor. The man was one of those poor creatures who could not live without the excitement of the court, and the knowledge that he was a part of it. Henry Tudor scorned men like Roger Colby. He had no real use or purpose in life other than to see and be seen. Yet he had done well stirring up difficulties along the border. At least, until the Scots had struck back. Who knew the Scots could show such cleverness? But they certainly had, and had done far more damage in their several raids within that brief period than Sir Roger had done all spring and summer. He would have preferred having on his side, rather than Colby, that Scots lord who led those raids.

There was a scratching on the door to his privy chamber. "Enter!" the king said.

"Sir Lionel de Frayne, my lord," the page in the doorway said, and then stepped aside to allow the king‘s visitor through, closing the door behind him.

"My liege!" Sir Lionel bowed. He was an unimposing man of medium height, with brown eyes and brown hair. There was nothing distinguished about him at all. He was a man who would disappear into a crowd and not be recognized. And he stood patiently waiting for the king to speak.

"Sit down, Sir Lionel," the king invited his guest, waving him to a small stool across from his own armed chair. One should always keep a petitioner seated beneath you. It gave them a feeling of helplessness while making he who would grant their petition seem more omnipotent. His clever mother had taught him that trick. "It would appear there will be an opening in the royal household," he began. "I am going to have need of a man of great discretion to carry out private commissions. If you accept, you will have a chamber of your own wherever I am, for you must always be near me. You will eat from my kitchens. You will be given an allowance for your clothing, and be paid each Michaelmas the sum of six gold coins. Would such a position interest you, Sir Lionel?" The king‘s gaze caught that of his companion, and held it.

"I would kill for six gold coins a year, and all that you offer, my liege," Sir Lionel said, eager excitement filling his voice.

Henry Tudor smiled a brief, wintery smile. "You shall not have to." He chuckled. "It is just that sometimes there are things I need done, but do not wish to share them with my councilors or anyone else. You shall be called the king‘s personal and private secretary, for want of a better word, Sir Lionel."

"I but live to serve you, my liege. I have neither wife nor child to keep me from devoting myself entirely to your service," Sir Lionel said.

"Excellent!" the king purred. "Now I shall need you to ride north to Colby Castle immediately, and speak with Sir Roger for me. You need only deliver your message, and then you are to return to me. You will tell Sir Roger that there is a thorn in the paw of the lion. I wish him to remove the thorn, and when he has he may to return to court."

"I do not understand, my liege," Sir Lionel said.

"Understanding will not always be part of your duties, my lord. Only obedience," King Henry told the man. "Can your conscience abide such a thing?"

Sir Lionel was silent for a long few moments, and then he said, "Aye, my liege, it can. You are my king. And kings can do no wrong."

Henry Tudor barked a sharp laugh. "Kings often do more wrong than ordinary men," he said.

"But then, kings are above ordinary men."

"There is a thorn in the paw of the lion," Sir Lionel said. "You wish Sir Roger to remove the thorn, and then return to court. Is that correct, my liege?"

"It is perfect," Henry Tudor replied. "You may go now. Let me know when you have returned, and what Sir Roger says to you. Before you leave the palace, however, find my household steward and tell him I would have you wear a garment with my own badge upon it. While your commissions will be secret, your position should not be."

Sir Lionel stood up and bowed once more to the king. "Thank you, my liege," he said to the king, and then he backed slowly from the privy chamber.

The king sat back in his chair, and considered what he had just done. Would Colby be clever enough to understand what was meant by the cryptic message? Aye, he would, for while he had no real intellect, he was as canny and sly as a fox. If he thought he could regain his royal master‘s favor again he would figure it all out and then do what needed be done. And if he bumbled and failed, Henry Tudor of England would not be blamed. Indeed, England‘s king would leave the Scots to kill Sir Roger, which they probably would eventually do. I don‘t like the fellow, the king thought, and he stood up, walking over to a small table to pour himself a goblet of fine wine. He drained it quickly. Yes, peace in the borders was very much to his advantage, and Colby was no loss.

Sir Lionel de Frayne found the king‘s household steward, and was given a tunic with the royal badge. He took it, and then, packing it away carefully in a saddlebag, he found his horse and started north. He was careful not to exhaust his beast, for the animal was all he had. Of course, when he returned to court either just before or just after Michaelmas he would be paid his yearly stipend and could purchase a second animal. As he was to live wherever the king lived, his horses would be stabled in the household stables, which would cost him naught for stabling and feed but an occasional penny to the stable lad for goodwill. Sir Lionel de Frayne could not believe his good luck, but that continued good fortune would be predicated upon his utmost discretion. His total loyalty to Henry Tudor must be unswerving. Kings were God‘s own chosen.

The ride to the north and west was uneventful. After several days he came in sight of Colby Castle, a small stone structure overlooking the sea in the wilds of Cumbria. Its drawbridge was raised defensively, and so he waited on the far side of the moat to be recognized. He had put on his tunic with its royal badge of service that morning. Finally one of the few men at arms patrolling the heights saw him, and called down to him.

"Identify yourself!"

"I am Sir Lionel de Frayne, in His Majesty King Henry‘s service. I wish to speak with Sir Roger Colby," the horseman said.

"A moment, my lord," the man at arms replied.

Sir Lionel waited. It had been a gray and cloudy day, and even though he could see a slash of red from the setting sun on the horizon, the storm clouds behind him were piling up, and he could sense the coming rain. And then the drawbridge began to be winched down, squeaking and creaking as it was lowered. When it at last met the earth on his side he moved his horse slowly across even as the iron portcullis was being lifted. Riding into the courtyard he dismounted, and an ancient stableman came to take his animal. A man with a soldier‘s bearing came up to him.

"I am the castle sergeant," he introduced himself. "I will escort you to my master if you will be so kind as to follow me."

Sir Lionel followed the man into a great hall, where a man sat at the high board eating. Next to him sat a woman with wonderful red-gold hair. Sir Lionel bowed.

"Sir Roger Colby?" he asked formally, knowing this was the castle‘s owner.

"Aye! What do you want other than food and a night‘s shelter?" Sir Roger demanded roughly—

and a bit rudely, his guest thought silently.

"I am King Henry‘s personal and private secretary—" Sir Lionel began.

"Join us then, and eat," Sir Roger said. "Sit here next to me." He gestured to his left, for the woman sat on his right. "Bring my guest some hot food and some wine," Sir Roger said to no one in particular, but his servants scurried to do his bidding.

Sir Lionel stepped onto the high board, nodding politely to the woman as he passed her. "My lady."

The woman nodded back.

"She‘s my guest," Sir Roger said briefly.

"I am his prisoner," the woman replied.

Roger Colby laughed smugly. "She‘s the wife of the laird of Duffdour, who led the Scots against us. I kidnapped her to teach the Scots bastard a lesson. She is very good company, are you not, my lady?" He felt safe now letting Ellen be seen. Sir Lionel would tell the king that Roger Colby was still strong. And Sir Lionel could not tell the laird of Duffdour where his wife was.

"He kept me in his dungeons for a month," Ellen said calmly.

"She lives now in my west tower," Sir Roger countered.

"He will not release me," Ellen responded, "nor will he ask for ransom. He took me from my nursling, an infant lad of three months then. I can only hope my son lives."

"If I was responsible for the death of one more Scot, then so be it," Roger Colby said coldly.

"Your bairn will not grow up to kill honest Englishmen."

"You are a pig!" Ellen said angrily. She stood and, looking at Sir Lionel, bade him good night.

Then she walked quickly from the hall.

"A hot-tempered vixen I will soon bring to heel," Sir Roger said. "Eat, my lord, eat! Then you will tell me what brings the king‘s man to my castle."

Lionel de Frayne found Roger Colby unpleasant. What business could the king possibly have with such a man? Despite his breeding there was obviously no honor in the fellow. To steal another man‘s wife for revenge and not ask for ransom was inglorious and disgraceful. He applied himself to the plate that was set before him. While the food was plain, it was hot and well prepared. Reaching for his goblet he found it filled with ale, and drank thirstily. When he had finished his meal he thanked his host.

"Why are you here?" Sir Roger demanded again.

"I have a message for you from the king," Sir Lionel said. "I do not understand it myself, but King Henry, my master, said that you would."

"Give me the message!" Roger Colby said eagerly. He was being forgiven! He had hoped that sooner or later the king would forgive him, and now it was happening.

"There is a thorn in the paw of the lion," Sir Lionel said. "The king wishes you to remove it.

That is all. There is no more."

Roger Colby looked totally befuddled. "I do not understand," he said slowly.

"That is the message I was told to deliver. However, the king did tell me to say that when the thorn was removed from the lion‘s paw you would be welcomed back to court." He stood up. "I thank you for the meal, my lord, and for the night‘s lodging." Stepping down from the high board he went to the large hearth and held out his hands to the fire, letting the warmth penetrate them.

Sir Roger followed him from the high board. "There is a thorn in the paw of the lion, and he wishes me to remove it?" he repeated. "It makes no sense at all. The king sent no written instructions? You carry no parchment from him?"

"The purpose of my service is to deliver discreet commissions that only the king—and myself to some small extent—are privy to, my lord. I have no knowledge at all other than that which I have imparted to you," Sir Lionel said.