Page 35 of Wolfehound
Cassius wasn’t sure what to say to that. His Uncle James, thought killed in Wales, had in reality suffered a terrible head injury that erased most of his memory. That was what the king referred to when he mentioned his damaged memory. Cassius had been too young, and also fostering far away, to really know the extent of William’s bitterness and grief when it came to James’ death. And the truth was that he knew nothing about the news he’d just heard from Canterbury, but the man was insinuating that William de Wolfe had done something underhanded against Edward years ago, which had his dander up. In Cassius’ eyes, his grandfather could do no wrong, and he would tell Canterbury that to his face if the man asked him a direct question.
Edward, however, was another matter.
Cassius had been serving the king for not quite a year on the recommendation of his older brother, who had originally been offered the position of Lord Protector. Markus de Wolfe had fallen for a woman in the north of England and declined the position to remain with her and start a new life. That was why he had recommended Cassius. In fact, Cassius had been quite honored by the recommendation and tried very hard to serve with distinction. Entering into the position, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was going to be like as the personal protector of the king, but it had turned into something far more than anything he had anticipated.
Cassius was more than a protector, more than just a skilled sword at the disposal of the king. Edward had more than his share of advisors, nobility who constantly vied for his attention and favor. He was also dealing with the behavior of his son,also Edward, who had his share of favorites, and those favorites were a thorn in the side of the nobility. Going into the position, Cassius had known there was going to be politics in the court of England, but he hadn’t realized how much it played into every single day and every breath he took. This was no easy task, and there were times when he cursed his brother for recommending him for the position. There were times when he simply wanted to walk away and return home and serve his father.
But there was something else at play here.
Though Edward had never said anything about it, Cassius thought that he wanted a de Wolfe close by either because it seemed to give him comfort or he thought Cassius knew what his grandfather was up to. That was not the case, as Cassius wasn’t the first person William de Wolfe had spoken to whenever he made a decision, and it was ridiculous that the king seemed to think so. But quickly, Cassius had begun to see that his position close to the king gave him a bird’s-eye view into the man’s plans and politics, and on at least two occasions, he had sent word to his father on Edward’s movements simply so Patrick and the rest of the de Wolfe family were aware of things that might directly affect them. Therefore, Cassius’ position with Edward was as advantageous to him as it was to the king, and he had no intention of walking away from it—but at this moment, he was having a good deal of difficulty with the Archbishop of Canterbury and the message the man bore. In fact, he considered himself very fortunate that he’d been here to witness the exchange.
It was definitely something his family would need to know.
“Cassius?” Edward said, jolting him from his train of thought. “Did you hear what I said about your uncle?”
“I did, Your Grace.”
“You did not comment.”
“That is because I cannot confirm or deny your assertion, Your Grace,” he said. “I am not close to my uncle and therefore do not know his mind.”
Edward’s gaze lingered on him for a few moments before he stood up from his chair and began to wander the audience chamber. There were great lancet windows that faced the River Thames and a moist breeze blew in from the water. Birds could be heard, crying overhead, as Edward meandered over to the window, clearly lost in thought. A gentle wind lifted his gray hair as his gaze beheld the city, the river, and the country he commanded.
He was a man with much on his mind.
“Cassius, I am going to ask you a question and you will answer me without hesitation,” he finally said.
Cassius moved in his direction, closer, so he could hear him better. “Your Grace?”
“Do you know Carlton de Royans?”
Cassius came to a pause about ten feet away. “I’ve only met him once, Your Grace,” he said. “That was very long ago.”
“Do you know Colm de Lara?”
“I knowofhim, Your Grace, but I do not know him personally.”
Edward nodded, but he still seemed to be preoccupied. “Is one of your brothers or cousins betrothed to a de Royans daughter?”
“Not that I am aware of, Your Grace.”
“Do you ever recall hearing your father or grandfather discuss de Royans or Sempringham Priory?”
“Never, Your Grace.”
“But Colm de Lara says they are in this together,” Edward said. “That your grandfather and de Royans plotted against me when it came to the last Welsh princess. That your grandfather made the decision to have her assume the identity of a de Royansdaughter while he sent another child to Sempringham, posing as the princess. If this is true, then he has deceived me.”
Cassius didn’t look at Canterbury, but that anger he’d managed to keep down at the mention of his grandfather’s lack of loyalty to the king was beginning to surface again. He didn’t like Robert Winchelsey making problems for a dead man. Since Edward and William had never really seen eye to eye, his grandfather didn’t need any help when it came to raising the king’s ire and suspicions.
Even from the grave.
“Your Grace, may I speak freely?” he asked.
Edward turned to him. “Of course,” he said. “I wish you would.”
That was when Cassius turned to look at Canterbury. “Meaning no disrespect to the archbishop, I fear I must point out the obvious,” he said, returning his attention to Edward. “Your Grace, Canterbury is giving you third-hand information. Allegedly, a dying knight has told a priest, who in turn ran to Canterbury, who in turn has come to you. As I said, I do not know Colm de Lara, but he was the Lord of the Trilaterals and an ally of my father and grandfather. They do not ally with fools or liars. I do not know who this priest is who came to Canterbury, but it is quite possible he is lying for his own gain. Canterbury himself admitted that the man was ambitious. What better way to secure a coveted position for himself than by relaying a bit of scandalous gossip about a dead man who cannot defend himself? I fear you do my grandfather’s history of service a greatdisservice by believing malicious rumors.”
Edward’s eyes crinkled with a hint of humor. After a moment, he chuckled. “God’s Bones,” he muttered. “I do believe I’ve just been reprimanded.”
