It was late in the afternoon when they saw William of Wykeham’s tower
rising above the trees like a casket of rose-red marble. The track ran
near the river, and a long curve of placid water ended in the great
castle set upon its hill. It was lush country, and very green, and
pleasant to behold, and in some of the meadows men were making hay.
Fulk had donned his helmet before leaving the Black Mere. He had said
but little during the ride, and his heart was still bitter in him. He
looked at the great round tower rising against the sky, and muttered to
himself, “That the King of such a castle should be a liar and a coward!”
The royal banner drifted in the wind, and as they rode up the narrow
street a company of men-at-arms clattered down with a knight in green
armour at their head. Knollys beckoned him aside, and they drew apart
and spoke together while the men-at-arms rode on. And Fulk looked at
them longingly; he would not grumble if he had five hundred such fellows
at his back.
Knollys rejoined him.
“Richard is out with his hawks, but will be back before nightfall. The
Princess is in the castle, and so are Salisbury and Warwick.”
They rode up to the gate, and the guard passed them when they saw
Knollys’ face. In the first court they dismounted, leaving their horses
with the grooms. A page came forward. Knollys asked for my Lord of
Salisbury, and the lad answered that Salisbury was at chess in the
garden with the Princess. Knollys bade him lead on.
He spoke to Fulk as they followed the page.
“Keep your vizor down; say nothing; leave all to me.”
They came into the garden, a green space surrounded by a great yew
hedge. Two peacocks strutted about, spreading their tails. In the centre
was a stone basin in which goldfish swam to and fro. The Princess had
set up her chess-table in the shade of a little stone pavilion that was
covered with climbing roses, and on a bench sat three of her ladies, two
reading together out of a book, the third busy with gold orfrey work. A
page stood behind Salisbury’s chair. The chessmen were of ivory, white
and red, and at Knollys’ coming the Princess was conning the board, one
hand poised tentatively over her queen.
Knollys and Fulk paused some paces away; Salisbury was bending forward
in his chair and frowning a little. The Princess made her move, not
having heard the footsteps on the grass.
“Madame, here is Sir Robert Knollys.”
She turned slowly, smiling, though her eyes were sad.
“Sir Robert, our very good friend.”
Knollys walked forward, but Fulk kept apart.
“Madame, I break your game. I ask you to pardon me. I have ridden twenty
miles that you may help me to heal my honour.”
“Is a Knollys’ honour ever in need of healing?”
“Madame, it has suffered in serving another.”
He glanced meaningly at the gentlewomen and at Salisbury’s page. The
Princess understood.
“Ladies, I would be alone.”
They rose, bowed to her, and moved away over the grass. Salisbury spoke
to his page.
“Get you gone, child.”
He too rose, but Knollys motioned him to remain.
“My lord, your honour is in like case with mine. We need you here with
us.”
The Princess glanced at Fulk, who stood some ten paces away in the
shadow of the yew hedge.
“Who is that man who comes to us in harness—with his vizor down?”
“Madame, you shall hear. Of your courtesy I would ask you to look at
this ring.”
He gave her the ring that he had taken from Merlin’s hand, and she held
it in her palm, her eyes growing suddenly troubled.
“It is my son’s ring.”
She looked steadily at Knollys.
“Sir, I charge you—tell me, has anything evil befallen my son?”
“Madame, my news does not run that way. No harm has come to the King
through this ring, save the harm that he has done to his own soul and to
my honour. I pray you, let my Lord of Salisbury see it.”
She passed it to Salisbury, her pride rising.
“How came you by this ring, Sir Robert?”
“I took it this day from the hand of a dead man—a man who had been sent
out to murder, but had been slain by him whom he was to murder.”
“What mean you?”
“Madame, I will tell you why my honour is sorely wounded, as is the
honour of my Lord Salisbury and all those who counselled the King. Was
it not but yesterday that a certain young man saved this kingdom? Did he
not keep faith with us, and did not we pledge ourselves to keep faith
with him?”
Her eyes darkened as she heard him.
“Sir Robert Knollys, I judge that I am no coward. If some shameful thing
has happened, let us have the truth, and that quickly.”
“Madame, when the Devil gets to work, the wrath in a man is apt to rage.
Need I tell you how Fulk Ferrers and Isoult of the Rose were sent
secretly to the Black Mere? The King knew it. Whether another tempted
him I cannot say, but a certain Franciscan led some thirty rogues
thither. Wit and bold fighting saved Fulk Ferrers. The friar was slain
in the fight, and on his finger was the King’s ring.”
She sat stiffly in her chair, bleak-faced and horror-stricken.
“Is this possible?”
Her eyes wandered towards Fulk, and Knollys understood the look.
“Madame, it is he. Forgive him if he is bitter against his own
half-brother.”
For some moments the Princess sat rigid, staring at nothing. Then she
spoke in a slow, toneless voice.
“Let him draw near.”
When Fulk Ferrers looked on the Princess’s face a sudden great and
chivalrous pity stirred in him. The look in her eyes slew the bitterness
in him.
“Fulk Ferrers, let me see your face.”
He put his vizor up, and, going on one knee, bent his head to her.
“Madame, it seems that I have brought you evil when I would have brought
you good.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Look up. Ah, how strange! Should I not hate you, Fulk Ferrers, with all
the strength of the woman in me?”
He answered her simply.
“Hate me, Madame, if it eases your heart. For, somehow, you have put all
anger out of me.”
She looked at him intently.
“Why has God given you what my son has not? Had not his father courage?
Am I a coward? Oh, it is bitter!”
She strove with herself, and her face grew beautiful as her calm pride
won the day.
“Sir Robert Knollys, and you, my Lord of Salisbury, I swear that no
dishonour shall live when I can drive it forth. I will go through with
this to the end. Who knows but that out of deep shame honour may rise
re-born and valiant?”
She rose from her chair.
“Come with me to the King’s chamber to-night. Let Fulk Ferrers be ready
without the door. I will see this great wrong righted.”
They stood with bowed heads as she left them there in the garden.