A King's Ransom

“To the market in Lisieux.”

 

 

Durand nodded, then pushed the bench back, having heard all he needed to know. He did not bother to bid Justin farewell, nor did he bother to pay for his wine. Justin dropped a few coins on the warped wood table, watching the other man saunter out the door, shoving aside two customers just entering. They started to object, but after a closer look at Durand, they decided to let it go. Justin was not surprised by their wariness; he’d once heard Durand described as “a man born to drink with the Devil.” Eleanor’s tame wolf thrived on danger and courted confrontation, but Justin could deny neither his courage nor his quick wit. He needed both to have survived so long in his dual role, for if John ever discovered he’d been played for such a fool, Justin thought even Durand would be deserving of pity.

 

 

 

DURAND MADE A PURCHASE in the market before returning to the castle. As he entered the great hall, the knights he encountered acknowledged him coolly, for he had no friends among them, nor did he want any. He did not even get a grudging nod from Ursula. She was playing a game of draughts with her maid, and he might have been invisible for all the notice she took of him. Men who showed Durand disrespect did so at their peril. Rudeness from John’s sultry paramour merely amused him, and he deliberately annoyed her by stopping to flirt with her flustered maid.

 

As he expected, he found John alone in his bedchamber, for the queen’s son, usually a man who craved company, had been solitary and brooding in the past fortnight, ever since hearing that his castle at Nottingham had surrendered to Richard.

 

John was lounging on the bed, an open book upon his lap. He’d been given the same excellent education as his brothers and seemed to find a genuine pleasure in reading. He got to his feet, saying sarcastically, “I must be going deaf, for I did not hear you knock, Durand.”

 

“Fortunately, you do not value me for my manners, my lord.” Durand moved to the table, picked up the flagon that John’s squire kept filled, and poured two cups, then waited for John to join him.

 

John bridled a bit, but boredom finally drove him to the table, for whatever Durand’s other failings, he was usually entertaining. “I assume you have a reason for this intrusion, Durand.”

 

“I brought you this, my lord.” Durand put a sack on the table and pulled out a small hourglass.

 

“Is this a jest?” John said coldly. “If so, I do not find it amusing.”

 

“That is understandable, my lord, for there is nothing remotely amusing about your predicament. But I thought you needed reminding that the time to make a choice is running out.”

 

John scowled. The knight’s boldness was one of the reasons he enjoyed the other man’s company; few men had the ballocks to be as forthright as Durand, but it could be vexing, too. “Choice?” he echoed. “Your jokes are falling far shy of the mark today.”

 

“You do have a choice, my lord. You can cling to your alliance with the French king or you can seek to make peace with your brother.”

 

“Is that your idea of a choice?” John jeered. “That is like asking me where I’d prefer to live, Sodom or Gomorrah.”

 

“Passing strange,” Durand drawled, “for I’d find it very easy to make that choice. In Sodom, you’d be Philippe’s puppet, mayhap even his lackey. In Gomorrah, you’d be the heir to the English throne.”

 

John slammed his wine cup down on the table. “I am no man’s lackey!”

 

“But that is what they’ll be calling you at the French court, even if it is done behind your back. Your value to Philippe plummeted as soon as Richard set foot again on English soil. He will still call you his ally, throw you the occasional crumbs from his table, like évreux. But you’ll have no leverage with him, and you’d best think what that will mean. You are not a man who finds it easy to curry favor or to curb your tongue. And Philippe will demand that you do both.”

 

Durand had taken a risk in speaking so bluntly. But he was sure that he was not telling John anything he did not already know. John might be many things; a fool was not amongst them. He just needed to be nudged in the right direction and to be assured that it was the only road to take.

 

John confirmed this now by saying bitterly, “You think Richard would not make me grovel and fawn over him, too?”

 

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