Read Roselynde for Free Online

to
dismemberment by her enemies?"
    "Then—" Sir John began.
    "Then nothing," Simon replied sharply. "Out of
great suffering the Queen has grown wise. She has ceased to knock her head
against stone walls to butt them down. She knows Richard. She will say naught
against his desire. It is better that she keep his trust and have some say in
overseeing the realm than that she protest against what is useless to protest
against."
    "You, I gather, will not take the Cross?" Sir Andre
hazarded.
    "I will do whatever the Queen commands—or, rather, the King.
If you ask whether the spirit moves me, I say this. God should not have
entrusted his Holy Places to that crowd of idiot luxuriants."
    "But the Pope—"
    "The Pope," Simon said caustically, "will rid
himself of three kings and not a few dukes whose realms will be ruled by
churchmen who must look to the Pope for support and advancement."
    "Yet if the King orders, we must take the Cross, or pay— or
both," Sir Andre said slowly.
    Simon clenched a fist and hit it into the open palm of his other
hand. "So must we all, for to disobey our liege lord is to bring upon us
far worse troubles than thin purses or the dangers of Crusade."
    "And that is God's truth," Sir Andre agreed with
heartfelt emphasis. "I lived through the end of Stephen's reign. I never
hope to see the land in such straits again."
    "Even a bad King is better than no authority," Sir John
conceded.
    Simon was shaking his head. "Lord Richard will not be a bad
king. He is a just man, no oath breaker, and not greedy— for himself. What is
bad is that he has no love for England, having been here so little, and he does
not know the ways of this land. If it were not for this accursed Crusade and he
had time to test the men and learn the customs, the realm would be fortunate in
him."
    "The Queen knows us well" Sir Andre suggested.
    "And has more wisdom than many kings," Sir John added.
    "I will gainsay neither of you," Simon agreed, but
without any lightening of his expression, "but here we come to a fault in
the King. He does not like women."
    There was a tight silence. Both of Alinor's vassals stared at
Simon and he met each pair of eyes meaningfully although torture, they
suspected, would not wring another word from him on that subject.
    "But his mother—" Sir Andre brought out in a somewhat
strangled voice, his mind plainly elsewhere.
    "Oh, he loves her and respects her—and fears her. Perhaps for
that reason—"
    Suddenly Simon's voice checked. His eyes had moved away from those
of his companions' and he had been staring thoughtfully out into the Hall. He
started to get to his feet and Sir Andre and Sir John tensed to rise also. Then
Simon smiled and gestured for them to sit still. He also sank back into the
window seat.
    "I am growing old," he said ruefully. "I see the
things of the past more clearly than those of the present. A maid crossed the
hall to enter one of the wall chambers—and for that instant I thought it was
the Queen, young again."
    It was fortunate for Alinor's plans that her vassals were more
interested in the Queen's probable influence on her son than in aberrations in
Simon's vision. Had they asked a single question about what he had seen, it
would have been clear that the "maid" was Alinor herself—going into
the chamber where she did her accounts—and there would have been comments and
explanations. As it was, Sir Andre drew Simon back to what he had been saying.
    "Richard will not leave the realm openly in her hands,"
Simon said positively, "partly because he truly believes that a ruler must
be ready and able to lead an army."
    "She is old, but aside from that more able than most men— if
what I have heard of her is true," Sir Andre said wryly.
    "It is true," Simon concurred, "but not in Lord
Richard's mind. Also—" he shrugged "—he fears it will be said of him
that he still takes suck. He will name a man and, since he does not know the
men here, he will name one of his own Poitevins."
    There