The Maiden and Her Knight by Margaret Moore

fight,” Rennick pointed out. “Richard had plenty of support for the Crusade.”
    â€œUntil the first stories of what was happening came home.” Oswald ticked off the reasons on his plump fingers. “Starvation, camp fever, massacres of unarmed prisoners. Worst of all, he failed to capture Jerusalem, yet the fool still thinks he’s the hero of the ballads sung about him by minstrels and other dolts who don’t know the truth.”
    â€œHe’s never even spent an entire year here in the whole of his reign,” Auberan added, “whereas Prince John has rarely left.”
    â€œBecause he’s been trying to wrest England from Richard’s rule,” Oswald replied.
    â€œHe will be a better ruler than his brother,” Auberan declared.
    â€œHe will be more easily intimidated,” Rennick said. “That is what is important to know about John. The barons and other nobles will find it easier to control him, and therefore the taxes will be kept low.”
    Oswald nodded. “And that is the point we should make to our Welsh friend.”
    â€œHe’s not my friend,” Auberan mumbled. He eyed the baron. “And I don’t think he’s yours, either. Didn’t you see the way he looked at Lady Allis?”
    Rennick smiled a small, cool smile. “Let him look.”
    Auberan eyed him doubtfully.
    â€œShe was playing a woman’s game with me,” Rennick explained, lust filling him as he remembered Allis in his arms. Soon, there would be no more toying with him. Soon, she would be his, in every way. Soon she would discover who was truly the master of Montclair. “She has agreed to be my wife and we will be married before the summer is over.”
    â€œI thought you were jealous,” Auberan said, “and Sir Connor’s ‘accident’ a warning to keep away from her.”
    â€œHis lance shattered, that’s all.”
    Oswald’s mouth tightened with mounting impatience. “Be that as it may, we should try to win him to our cause. His Norman father was very well regarded by the Welsh as well as the men of the court. Edgar was a very clever fellow—married a Welsh princess and was lax in enforcing the king’s laws, so naturally those barbarians liked him. Now his sons have inherited their loyalty, if no money, and the other Welsh nobles will listen to them. By winning Connor to our side, we will have allies in Wales.”
    â€œWe don’t need allies in Wales. What are the Welsh to us?” Auberan protested. “Just a thorn in our side.”
    â€œI am beginning to think we don’t need you, Auberan,” Oswald said in a way that made Rennick’s blood run cold. Auberan might come from a powerful family, but he was an annoying, stupid fellow. The ground at the bottom of the battlements could be the best place for him—another accident, of course.
    â€œHow difficult is it to comprehend that the more we have on our side from all parts of Britain, the more likely we are to avoid a charge of treason when Richard is dead?” Oswald demanded. “God’s wounds, man, have you forgotten what happened when that oafWilliam Rufus was assassinated? No one challenged the story that his death was an accident even though the man who shot him was the finest archer in England, because every single man in England—Norman or Saxon—wanted William Rufus dead.”
    Auberan paled. “Are you planning to assassinate the king?”
    â€œWhat did you think we were planning? A feast?” Oswald snapped.
    â€œI thought…I assumed…”
    At a glance from Oswald, Rennick rose and grabbed Auberan’s tunic, hauling him to his feet. “Are you with us, or not?”
    â€œI…of course I am with you, if it can be done as you say, with no repercussions.”
    Rennick let him go and Auberan fell back into his chair. “Do you think we would do this if we could not be sure