Guardian of Darkness (29 page)

By this time, the priest was watching him intently.  “Then you deny these allegations.”

“With all my heart.”

“You will burn in hell for lying to me, Sir Creed.  Now tell me again; do you deny these allegations?”

“With my immortal soul at stake, I most certainly do.”

The priest gazed steadily at him as if trying to wordlessly persuade him into changing his story. Surely he had enough power behind him to do just that.  But Creed held his gaze steady, the dusky blue eyes pure with truth and honor.  Massimo eventually lowered his gaze, rising from the small chair he was seated in.

“I do, in fact, know a little about you,” he said as he neared the hearth. “It is my duty to educate myself whilst conducting tasks for the church.  I know that you served Northumberland flawlessly for many years before going into the service of the king. I did, in fact, speak with most of the knights who accompanied you on your mission to escort Isabella from France.”

Creed watched the man pace.  “And?”

Massimo paused to look at him. “They have all told me the exact same thing you did,” he began to pace again. “Your friends are very loyal. In fact, their criticism of the queen was far stronger than your own.  From them I learned that you conducted yourself with dignity and honor, even when she threw temper tantrums and hit you.”

Creed just looked at the man.  Massimo studied the strong face of the knight before him, pacing thoughtfully around the room as he pondered.

“It would seem, Sir Knight, that the queen has a vendetta against you for spurning her advances,” he said as he watched his feet. “But that does not erase the face that she is pregnant with what is presumably not the king’s child.  The king himself says he did not touch her until their wedding night.”   

Creed just shook his head and looked at his hands.  Massimo paused a few feet away, watching the man’s body language.

“You disagree?” he asked quietly.

Creed cast him a long look. “Do you want the truth, my lord?”

“Of course.”

Creed sighed heavily and sat back against the chair.  “The night we delivered Isabella to the king, he took her into his chamber and we could clearly hear the sounds of lovemaking.  It was brutal and loud and she screamed the entire way through it. So, in answer to your question, I strongly disagree with the king’s statement. It is simply not true.”

Massimo cocked a thoughtful eyebrow. “Your fellow escort party told me the same.”

Creed just shook his head and looked to his hands again.  “The king’s word is law,” he muttered. “They can blame this on me all they wish. It simply isn’t true.”

Massimo watched him a moment before pulling up a chair beside him.  He watched Creed’s lowered face carefully, feeling some empathy for the man.  It was a vicious circumstance he found himself a part of.

“The king has a long and bitter history with the church,” Massimo muttered. “One more offense from him will not matter overly.  But you, however, are in a bad position.”

Creed looked at the man. “Do you believe any of what I have told you?”

Massimo nodded slowly. “I believe all of it.”

Creed sighed slowly, wiping a weary hand over his face.  It was the first time since entering the room that his guard went down.

“So now what?” he asked a question he had been dreading for six months. “What do I do?”

The priest sat back in his chair, his eyes moving to the fire gently crackling in the hearth. “The king wants you imprisoned.”

“I know.”

“He does not, as far as I can deduce, know where you are, but that will not hold true forever.  He will eventually find out.”

“How did you find out where I was?”

“Your loyal friends told me, those who have staunchly defended your honor.”

Creed looked at the man, hating that he must face the realities that were intent on following him. He simply could not believe the nightmare was deepening.

“So I will ask you again,” he said. “What do I do? More specifically, what do you intend to do with me?”

Massimo scratched his unshaven chin. “I must report back to the papal legate in London,” he replied. “I will tell him the truth; that I believe these allegations are untrue.  In spite of what you may or may not think of the church, we do hold true to truth and justice.  We reject tyranny. And we have indeed heard the rumors of Queen Isabella’s infidelity.  The rumors have run rampant since the day she arrived in England and we are quite certain she has had more lovers than you can count on your fingers and toes.”

Creed could only shake his head in disgust. “Then why me?” he asked. “Why must she seek to destroy me if she has had so many lovers?”

Massimo smiled at him, displaying dingy teeth. “Because you were not a lover. You stood virtuous against her debauchery and she hates you for it.  Had you caved into her demands, she probably would have forgotten all about you.”

“I was not going to cave into her demands.”

Massimo cracked a lop-sided smile. “I understand,” he stood up and moved back to the desk where he had laid his things. “And in answer to your question as to what to do, I would say do nothing at the moment. I will return to London to discuss this with the papal legate and we will decide a course of action.”

For the first time in almost six months, Creed felt some relief from the situation. He rose on his thick legs, facing the priest. “Is the king actively looking for me? Someone is bound to know where I am.”

Massimo shook his head. “He is not as far as I am aware,” he replied. “He makes a good game of threatening talk but as far as I know, he has not sent out a search party. You will continue your service here in the wilds until such time as I contact you again.”

Creed’s jaw ticked faintly. “Understood, my lord.”

 “Do not lose faith. Good always triumphs over evil.”

“Aye, my lord.”

The priest picked up his satchel from the desk. “Oh, I nearly forgot,” he moved towards Creed with his bag in his hand. “I understand that you have been assigned to protect a hostage of Prudhoe.”

Creed nodded. “A daughter of Kerr, our bitter enemy.  I am her protection.”

The priest shook his head. “No longer,” he told him pointedly. “I do not want you involved with any young ladies until this matter is solved. It would not be viewed, shall we say, favorably.”

Creed lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Massimo secured the ties on his bag. “You were in charge of a young lady once and the results are coming to haunt you,” he lifted an eyebrow at him. “If something happens with this young lady, however innocent you may be, it will only confirm what the queen is telling everyone.  It will make you appear guilty as sin. Therefore, until this situation is settled, I would refrain from any association with any woman.  You do not want to take any chances.”

Creed looked at him, thinking of Carington as he did so.  He knew that the priest was right; God help him, he knew.  The man made perfect sense.  But what he was feeling for Carington was so real, so deep, that the thought of staying away from her tore at him like nothing he had ever known. 

“Understood, my lord.”

“Good.” Massimo faced him, nodding his head to acknowledge that their business was concluded. “Now, I plan to sup here tonight and leave for London on the morrow.  Perhaps you and I can come to know one another on more pleasant terms.”

“I would be honored, my lord.”

“Then take me to the hall and ply me with wine. I find that I am in need of it.”

Creed took him into the great hall. But it was Creed who needed a heavy dose of wine, not the priest.  The more he drank, the more sullen he became.  It was fortunate that Ryton and Lord Richard soon joined them so that Creed did not have to pretend to be pleasant any longer.  He kept staring into the fire, seeing Carington’s face with every flicker of flame and wondering how she was going to react when he told her he could no longer be her shadow.  He wondered how he was going to react, day after day, seeing her but not being able to be near her.

At some point, the priest begged his leave and Richard graciously consented to show him to his chamber.  In truth, Lord Richard volunteered so that Ryton and Creed could spend a few moments alone to discuss the results of Creed’s meeting with the priest. They were all on edge, knowing why the church had come and wondering how Creed’s future was to be impacted. Richard secretly wondered if he was going to have to once again spirit Creed away under the cover of darkness so that the king could not find him.

When Richard and the priest were gone and the fire snapped softly in the hearth, Ryton changed seats and ended up sitting across from his brother at the long, scrubbed table that had been at Prudhoe for three generations.  He gazed steadily at his brother, who seemed more interested in staring into the flames.

“What did he say?” Ryton finally asked the magic question.

Creed continued to gaze into the writhing blaze a moment before speaking.  “He said that the church is investigating Isabella’s pregnancy.  She is telling everyone that the child is mine.”

Ryton hissed and poured himself a huge sloppy cup of wine, downing half of it in one swallow. “Christ,” he hissed. “That little bitch. Is the king after you?”

“According to the priest, he wants me imprisoned but is apparently not making a concerted effort to find me.”

“Because he knows she is lying,” Ryton took another swallow. “He knows he has married a whore. That child could be anyone’s.”

“Anyone but me,” Creed looked at him, then. “The priest believes in my innocence. He says that those he could speak to from escort that accompanied me to France confirmed my story. He says that he is going to go back to London and discuss this with the papal legate.  I am to remain here in the service of Lord Richard until such time as the priest contacts me again.”

Ryton stared at him, apparently waiting for more information. When none was forthcoming, he lifted his eyebrows expectantly. “That is all?”

Creed’s face darkened and he took another cup of wine. “The priest was told that I had been assigned to protect Lady Carington.”

Ryton nodded. “He interviewed Lord Richard and me about you.  We told him of your performance as a knight, your history and valor. Your assignment to Lady Carington came up during the course of the conversation.”

“He says that I am to stay away from her.  He says that I am to stay away from all women until this situation has resolved itself.”

“Why?”

Creed looked at him; there was tremendous turmoil in the dusky blue eyes. “Because if something were to happen between me and Lady Carington, inappropriate or otherwise, it could be viewed as a confirmation of Isabella’s stories.  The priest feels that it is best if I stay clear of anything that could become controversial involving women.”

Ryton puffed out his cheeks, exhaling heavily. “It makes sense,” he conceded. “I will have to turn over the duty to Burle, then.  God help him if she tries to run.”

“She will not run.”

Ryton looked at his brother, then, hearing that wistful tone once more. This time, he had the time and composure to address it. His stomach began to twist, knowing the answer to the question before he even put it forth.  He was afraid to ask but knew he must.