Page 382 of Historical Hotties
As Aramis and Braxton grinned, sharing a private joke about their very nasty but very dedicated younger brother, Henry merely looked thoughtful.
“If he is so mean, why has he not gone to France?” he asked.
Braxton’s smile faded. “Because France has Bastian, and he is the greatest knight of us all.”
Henry’s gaze moved to the courtyard where Bastian was standing with his wife in a circle of knights, all of them looking at something on the ground in the center of the circle. Someone was crouched down, pointing to whatever they were all looking at.
“I would speak with Sir Bastian now,” he told Braxton. “Come along.”
Braxton was dragged along by Henry but not before looking at Aramis and shrugging his shoulders. Aramis scratched his head curiously and followed as the young king pulled Braxton with him, the old man shuffling along and trying to keep pace with the boy. As Henry and Braxton drew near to the crowd of knights, Aramis called out to them.
“The king approaches,” he said in his rather booming voice. “Make way.”
Everyone turned to see Henry and Braxton approach. Henry was holding on to Braxton, or in truth it was the other way around, but Henry’s focus was on Bastian. Bastian met the boy’s gaze steadily, bowing to him as he came to stand with the men in the circle.
“Your Grace,” he greeted. “How may I be of service?”
Henry looked around the circle at all of the knights, seasoned men bred for battle in their well-used and expensive armor. It was rather exciting and rather intimidating, to be truthful. Some of these men had served his father and he tried to imagine howthat must have been, knights in Henry of Monmouth’s ranks. It was a thrilling thought. But then he looked at the drawings in the dust in the middle of their circle to see what they had been studying and his brow furrowed with curiosity.
“What is this?” he asked, pointing to the dirt sketches.
Bastian turned his attention to the drawings. “This is Wallingford Castle,” he said. “We have no map of it so a soldier who knows the castle has drawn it for us.”
Henry looked up at him. “Are you going there to besiege it?”
Bastian thought carefully on his answer. “I am going there to ask the Earl of Suffolk to give me his brother, Thomas de la Pole,” he replied. “You know Sir Thomas. He is in your entourage.”
Henry nodded, looking down at the scribbles in the dust. “I know him,” he said. “I saw him hit Lady Gisella. That is why you want him, isn’t it? To punish him for striking her?”
Standing behind Braxton, Aramis let out a grunt of displeasure now that he knew the reasons behind Bastian’s motivation, over a woman of all things, but Bastian ignored his uncle. He nodded to the king’s question.
“It is, Your Grace,” he said.
Henry’s gaze moved to Gisella, standing with both hands looped into the crook of her husband’s elbow. She smiled at Henry and he could see the faint bruise on her jaw where de la Pole had hit her. Henry scratched his head, frowning.
“What Sir Thomas did to Lady Gisella was very unkind,” he said. “He must be punished. I will go with you to Wallingford Castle and order Suffolk to give you his brother. He must obey me or I will take Wallingford away from him.”
Bastian was stunned at the very simple yet very effective plan. Nothing of what the king said was untrue. Henry seemed quite serious about it but Bastian wasn’t convinced it was a good idea.
“That is generous, Your Grace, but I do not think you should be put in such a position,” he said. “Suffolk is an ally and you do not want to turn him against you. Moreover, I will be traveling with an army and you would be safer if you remained here. I believe I can convince Suffolk to give me his brother.”
Henry wasn’t sure if he was being denied or not, so he went on the assumption that he wasn’t. “I will ride with you,” he said, more firmly. “Suffolk must listen to me. If he denies me, I will make sure he is punished.”
Bastian could see that the young man would not be deterred, which brought about a new host of problems. He forced a smile.
“You offer is very generous, Your Grace,” he said again, eyeing the men surrounding him. They were all looking at him as if glad they were not the ones dealing with the head-strong king. “If you would like to listen to Sir Worthington speak on the strategy of addressing Suffolk, I will speak with my father a moment. Please excuse us.”
Henry wanted to hear about strategy so he wasn’t hard pressed to remain and listen to Worthington’s suggestions about the approach to Wallingford. Gisella let go of Bastian, remaining with the king as Bastian pulled both his father and his uncle with him into a private huddle a few feet away. He started to speak but Brant broke away from the group of knights and came to the huddle as well. From the look on his face, he seemed to be having the same concerns about the young king traveling with them into a potentially dangerous situation as Bastian had.
“Gloucester will murder me if I take the king into battle against Suffolk,” Bastian hissed at his father. “Why did you tell him about the situation with Suffolk?”
Braxton held steady against his son’s frustration. “He asked,” he said simply. “God’s Bones, Bastian, he is the king. He wants to help. Let the boy do something to help you if he can.”
Bastian’s eyebrows flew up. “Are you mad?” he demanded. “I cannot take a nine-year-old king to a confrontation. If Gloucester doesn’t kill me, Bedford and Beaufort will.”
“I must agree with Bastian,” Aramis said. “He cannot take the king to Wallingford to confront Suffolk.”
Braxton frowned at his brother and at his son. “Why not?” he asked. “You have not spent the past several hours with that boy. Gloucester and the regents have that child so boxed up and so repressed that he is scared of his own shadow. He wants to be a good king. He wants to do what is right. He is not fond of battle or confrontation. He wants to help solve your problem, Bastian. Why can’t you let him fulfill the destiny that his father would have wanted for him?”
