The Dark One: Dark Knight (106 page)

     De Tormo's body was sent ahead to Westminster
as Gaston's column set forward once again, en route to the Tower. Henry was
there, awaiting Gaston's arrival, and Gaston was extremely eager to show the
king de Tormo's missive.

     Remington felt the familiar pangs of fear
as they crossed the Thames and the Tower drew close. Guy was there, looking
down at her, she just
knew
it. He could sense her, as she could sense
his evil. When the party passed down the narrow entryway and into the
courtyard, she shivered involuntarily. He was
here
.

     Henry met them in the courtyard. He greeted
Gaston pleasantly, turning his attention to Remington as Nicolas helped her
from the carriage. Dressed in ecru-colored satin with gold embroider, she
looked radiant.

     “My lady, what a pleasure it is to see you
again,” Henry received her.

     Remington curtsied low. “Thank you, Your
Grace.”

     The king's gaze lingered on her a brief
moment longer before turning to Gaston. One look into Henry's brown eyes and
Gaston could see that something was terribly wrong. He wished Remington wasn't
with him; if the news was bad, he wanted to hear it alone. Only after he'd had
time to calm himself would he deliver the information to Remington.

     “There are refreshments in my solar,” Henry
said, walking toward the Queen's House.

     Gaston took Remington's arm, instructing
Nicolas and Patrick to settle the men and take station in the knights' quarters
until he sent for them.

     The solar was cool and smelled of fresh
rushes. Remington accepted a cup of wine from a servant and stood stiffly
beside Gaston, nervous in the king's presence. After what happened the last
time she saw him, she was uncomfortable.

     Henry sat heavily, stretching his long
legs. Gaston stood like stone, waiting expectantly for the revelation to spill
forth from the monarch's lips. The two men looked at each other, silent words
filling the speechless void until Henry finally spoke.

     “Guy spoke to the papal council while you
were gone, Gaston,” he said quietly. There was no need for formalities, or
empty conversations leading into the real reason for Gaston's visit. They were
long since passed any overtures.

     Gaston's face slackened in shock. “But I
thought they were going to wait until the rest of Lady Remington's testimony
was heard.”

     Henry put up a silencing hand. “They were
indeed, but Guy begged and pleaded until he obtained permission to speak. In
fact, he wanted to speak without you present because he claims you intimidate
him,” the king snorted ironically. “I cannot imagine why.”

     Gaston was not interested in the king's
attempt at humor.      “And?”

     Henry examined his jewel-encrusted chalice.
His slight attempt to lighten the mood had failed and he was not particularly
eager to continue the conversation without a company of men to protect him, but
Gaston was waiting.   And so was the lady.

     Henry met Gaston's eye. “Guy spent four
hours in front of the council. Gaston, I have never in my life seen such a
display of pitiful hysterics. He cried and moaned, relaying to the council that
fact that he was a helpless victim in my greater scheme to control England. His
keep, and his wife, were being used as a reward to my most powerful warrior. He
claimed that he and Remington shared a great love for one another, and the only
reason she had requested an annulment was because you had bewitched her weak
mind.”

     Gaston had suspected that Guy would come
across as a casualty in Henry's war and was not surprised. But he had a
suspicion that Henry was not finished with his tale and he pulled Remington
against him before replying. “And what happened?”

     Henry looked to his cup again. “No
annulment will be granted based on God's law of the absolution of marriage. I
was berated before the entire council for attempting to apply my law over
God’s, for trying to dissolve a marriage for the purpose of bestowing a reward
to my faithful. Furthermore, they are pressuring me to release Stoneley so he
can return to Mt. Holyoak and live peaceably with his wife.”

     Gaston's jaw dropped. Next to him,
Remington nearly collapsed with shock but he held her firm. He could feel he
soft sobs beginning.

     Henry could see the shock, the pain, and he
was greatly remorseful that he had been unable to sway the council. Instead, he
had taken a browbeating. “Gaston, I am sorry. I tried, I truly did.”

     Gaston swallowed hard, trying to comfort
Remington and striving to gain command of his reeling mind. After a moment of
struggle, he turned to his king. “It's not over, my lord. Not at all.”

     “It is,” Henry said gently. “There is
nothing more to....”

     “Aye, there is,” Gaston said forcefully,
speaking to Henry yet still clutching Remington to him. “Father de Tormo died
yesterday, Henry. But before his death, he swore out a dying declaration that
announces to the world that Guy Stoneley is a proven devil worshipper. Stoneley
confessed these acts to the priest in a confession and de Tormo wrote them
down. Additionally, Remington and her sisters are prepared to verify the
confession with their own first-hand knowledge.”

     Henry looked astonished. “Where is this
parchment?”

     “In the carriage,” Gaston replied, his
throat tight with emotion. “I would deliver it to Bourchier personally. Now.”

     “Absolutely. My God, Gaston, they will have
no choice but to reopen the case and grant the annulment if de Tormo can prove
Guy is Satan's student.”

     Gaston knew that. So did Remington. So what
if it was a lie.

    
Anything for you.

***

     Bourchier read the missive. John of Imola
read the missive. The archbishop summoned John Morton, bishop of Ely, Robert
Morton, bishop of Worcester, Christopher Urswick and Peter Courtenay. They all
read it, pondered it, and discussed it. The discussion and arguments that
ensued went on into the night.

     Gaston, Henry and Uncle Jasper waited in
the lavishly appointed visitor's solar of Westminster. Gaston sat motionlessly,
staring from the window at the three-quarter moon, listening to the nightbirds
sing. Be wondered how Remington was faring, having left her at the Tower in the
care of his knights. Be hoped she wasn't too frantic.

     De Tormo had told Remington to open the
missive only in the case of a catastrophic emergency. Death was considered an
emergency, Gaston reasoned, and it furthermore seemed to him that de Tormo knew
how the delegation was going to rule. Was it possible that de Tormo killed
himself in order to make his testimony absolutely irrefutable? Gaston knew it
wasn't possible, but he wondered just the same. There was nothing more potent
that a dying declaration.

     He had to shake his head at the haughty
priest he was so intent on hating when they first met. It still amazed him that
the man had turned out to be his mightiest weapon in the fight for Remington.

     “Are you worried?” Henry asked him quietly,
sitting a few feet away.

     Gaston turned from the window. “Worried?
No. I think concerned is a more apt term, my lord.”

     “Concerned nothing.” Jasper snorted,
scratching at his scalp. “Once they read what a decrepit bastard Stoneley is,
there should be no doubt. They will not allow Remington to remain in such a
marriage, for the sake of her soul.”

     Henry raised a weary eyebrow. “My God, I
hope not. I would like to be over with this, Gaston. I have aged unnaturally
since the day you informed me of your love for this woman.”

     Gaston half-grinned. “I have, too.”

     The meeting lasted into the night. Rapidly
approaching midnight, Gaston and his two companions were startled when the
chamber door opened with a groan and Courtenay came forth, bearing a tallow
candle. Gaston was on his feet.

     “They want to speak with Stoneley, Gaston,”
Peter said quietly. “I have sent my personal guard to escort him here for more
interrogation.”

     Gaston did not realize he was shaking with
anticipation, emotion, every possible feeling he could experience. “How goes
the opinion, Peter?”

     Much to his shock, the bishop actually gave
him a small smile. “Well for you. The need to speak with Stoneley is merely a
formality.”

     Gaston could hardly grasp what he was
hearing. After so much disappointment and anguish, he almost did not understand
what he was being told. “Then….Remington does not need to testify? Or her sisters?”

     Peter shook his head. “The council has
enough faith in de Tormo that they will take him for his word. Besides, he
signed his name in his own blood, which is as good as swearing on the name of
the all mighty. Better, in fact. De Tormo will be well-rewarded in heaven for
his loyalty.”

     Gaston felt a sickening feeling in the pit
of his stomach on de Tormo's behalf. As Remington said, the man was most likely
roasting in the sulfur lake for his lie. Only a select few mortals would know
of his great sacrifice.

     He turned away from the bishop, relief
flooding him like nothing he had ever tasted. De Tormo had been right all
along, about everything. He knew how the council would react to his signed
revelation, sparing Remington and her sisters the horror of testifying.

     By God, the man
knew
.

     Months of testimony on Remington's behalf
had failed to convince the council to provide an annulment. Brimley, Ingilsby,
Sir Alfred Tarrington all had been unable to convince the church that Guy
Stoneley was nothing short of a demon himself. Gaston's testimony had been
inadmissible because he was in love with the woman. Henry couldn't vouch for
Remington and was therefore useless, except to bully the church on Gaston's
behalf.

     All of the worry and agony was now finally
coming to a conclusion and Gaston could scarce believe it; if all went well, by
next month, Remington would be the duchess of Warminster.

     He shuddered with joy at the thought of
calling her his wife. He would use the term liberally, freely, with every other
breath. He had waited too long not to.

     So miracles were possible, after all.
Mayhap if he thanked God this night, the Lord would finally hear him. And he
would pray for de Tormo's soul in the process.

     “What about me? Is there still to be
testimony on my behalf?” he asked in a raspy voice.

     “Why?” Peter shrugged. “They know you and
your reputation, Gaston. There is nothing anyone could say that could convince
them that you would be any less than a grand husband for her.”

     Gaston slanted him a glance. “What of the
business of my betraying Richard? Surely that scars my character.”

     I told them what happened,” Henry said from
his chair. When Gaston turned surprised eyes to his king, Henry nodded
affirmatively. “They know of Richard's liaison with your wife, how he
humiliated you. And they know that you disapproved of the murder of his
nephews. They understand that you could not serve such an immoral man.”

     Gaston was surprised. “And when did your
testimony come about?”

     “Right before Guy's,” Henry rose wearily,
weaving a bit. “My spies told me that Guy was going to present a piteous,
wretched case and I wanted to balance it with statements on your behalf. Do not
look so angry, Gaston. I did what was necessary, and you know it.”

     Gaston wasn't angry, simply off-guard. He
cleared his throat in a nervous gesture, combing his fingers through his dark
hair. “Then I thank you, my lord.”

     Henry looked at his Dark Knight, the most
powerful warrior he commanded. But even Gaston was humbled by the church and
the laws of God, as was the king. The fact that the annulment was near approval
was an absolute miracle, and they all had de Tormo to thank for it.

     But Gaston did not ever truly clarify if
the charges were true; Henry would not ask. He did not want to know, being a party
to a lie of cataclysmic repercussions. He did not want God to blame him for
knowing too much.

     Silence settled in the room as the
conversation lulled. While Henry went to pour himself his third goblet of wine,
Peter moved to Gaston hesitantly.

     “I hope you can forgive me for what has
happened, Gaston,” he said softly. “We were friends once, you and I. Whatever
happened with Lady Remington's annulment was with the church alone and beyond
my scope.”

    
My friend
, Gaston thought. “We're
still friends, Peter. Your help has been invaluable.”

     Peter's fair face relaxed and his smile
blossomed. “I have tried, truly,” he lowered his voice. “I'd grant you the damn
annulment if it were in my power, church or no. Especially after Guy's
testimony yesterday.”

     Gaston raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

     Peter shook his head in disgust. “The man's
entire statement was a farce. I have never seen so much blatant dribbling,
pleading and carrying-on. It was embarrassing to say the least, but John and
Thomas listened to every word. They believed him, even if the rest of us did
not.”