He was, therefore, a man that Christopher and David respected and liked. Christopher clapped the man on the arm.
“Come along, lad,” he said. “Let us go and slay a few cups of wine and some of de Winter’s fine food.”
“No women?”
“Not for me, but be my guest if there are any eligible women in attendance.”
Caius thought that sounded like a good idea. The three of them continued on through the village of half-drunk people, heading towards the enormous, square bastion in the distance. More people were arriving as well, groups of invited nobles, and they could see several houses that they knew, allies of de Winter and of William Marshal. There were several roads into Norwich, as it was the largest city in Norfolk, and parties were coming in from all over.
Christopher recognized all of them, in fact. Summerlin, de Leybourne, and Ashbourne were just a few groups of men he recognized. As the groups bottlenecked into the city gates, he found himself in conversation with Padraig Summerlin, the garrison commander of Castle Rising. He was a good man, married to one of Old Daveigh’s daughters. It was quite a festive atmosphere as men arrived for days of drink and food in celebrations of the king’s birthday the coming month. And just as they passed beneath the city gate, they began to hear a commotion behind them.
William Marshal was bringing up their rear with about a hundred solders and Maxton and Kress riding with him, armed to the teeth. Although Christopher and David had brought about the same number of men-at-arms with them, they were treating the ride a little more casually. David still had his helm off, enjoying the sun, and Christopher’s shield wasn’t even on his saddle. There was a small group from Thetford between them and The Marshal’s party, one Lord Croxton, and Maxton and Kress scared the hell out of Lady Croxton as they pushed their group.
Christopher could hear Lady Croxton weeping loudly.
It was mostly Maxton, harassing people in order to make way for William Marshal, but Christopher didn’t comment on the fact. That was typical Maxton; no tact, all business. He and Maxton had known each other for over twenty years and they had never particularly gotten along, mostly because they were so much alike in personality – forceful, commanding, demanding. But Maxton had a darker edge about him, something Christopher didn’t have, nor did he like, and there had been times in the past when he and Maxton had butted heads.
But these days, they couldn’t work up the energy to do so. They had accepted one another for who, and what, they were, and although they would never be the best of friends, they managed to get along for the most part. As Maxton pushed through the Croxton group to reach the de Lohrs and Caius, he ended up shoving the lone Croxton knight out of the way by kicking the man’s horse in the flanks. As the animal bolted off, he turned his attention to the men he knew.
“Here we are, together again,” he said, mostly focused on Caius. “Cai, God help you, you’re uglier than I remember.”
Caius snorted. “Thankfully, the women do not think that.”
Maxton rolled his eyes, for it was true. They all knew that women flocked to Caius like a moth to the flame. His attention fell on David next.
“My lord,” he greeted. “I see that you are still in the company of that one.”
He nodded his head in Christopher’s direction and David smiled thinly. “You mean the Earl of Hereford and Worcester?” he said. “Show some respect, Loxbeare.”
Maxton turned to Christopher and the two of them gazed at each other, appraisingly. That was usual with them. “My lord,” Maxton said. “All the way from the Marches, I see.”
“And you,” Christopher said evenly. “How is Gloucester?”
“Quiet. Just the way I like it. And Lioncross?”
“Quiet. Just the way I like it.” Christopher looked at David and Caius, and now Kress as he joined them. “You would never guess that Maxton and I are allies along the Marches. He really loves me, but he will never admit it.”
There was an ironic jest in that, and some humor. It wasn’t true, but it wasn’t entirely untrue, either. The relationship between the pair was complicated. As David and Caius shook their heads to the unspoken rivalry between Christopher and Maxton, Kress reined his horse next to the group.
“Greetings, my lords,” he said, far more polite to Christopher and David than Maxton had been. “’Tis a fine day for much drinking and eating.”
“You will keep the drinking to a minimum,” William said as he rode up. “I do not need a bunch of drunken lords about with John on the prowl. Has he arrived yet?”
Everyone turned in the direction of the castle, the great square box on the hill that loomed over the town. There were banners flying, both de Winter and Plantagenet, snapping in the light breeze.
“I would guess he is here,” Christopher said. “His feast begins today, after all.”
William simply lifted his eyebrows, seemingly not too thrilled about the whole thing. He was here only because he had to be. The enormous de Lohr/Marshal group pushed through the village, as they were now on one of the wide avenues that headed for the castle. As they neared the first of several gatehouses that led to the keep, they could see a rider heading in their direction. A man in armor was thundering towards them. Christopher was the first to take notice.
“Look there,” he said. “That looks like Peter.”
It was. Everyone turned to see Peter galloping towards them on the heavy-boned warhorse his father had given him when he was knighted. Another expensive de Lohr animal that Peter was quite fond of. As the knight drew up alongside his father and uncle, the customary smile wasn’t there.
In fact, he looked very serious.
“I thought it was you,” he said to his father. “I had the men watch for your banner and they thought they saw it coming in through the city gate.”
“They did,” Christopher said to his eldest. “What has you riding out here like a madman?”
“John is here,” Peter said, looking at the six knights before him. All powerful men, all of them knowing the stakes with John present at any gathering. “He arrived yesterday. Papa, we had an… incident last night with Christin.”
Christopher stiffened. “What incident?” he demanded. “Be plain.”
“She is well,” Peter said quickly, seeing this father was immediately on the offensive. “She is not harmed, but there have been some developments. I rode out here to tell you because I am not entirely sure we will have any privacy once we enter the castle. John’s men are everywhere. He brought a small army with him.”
Christopher looked at William, who was trying not to show any great concern. “What developments have there been, Peter?” William asked calmly.
Peter wedged his big horse between his father and William. Even though they were in public, they were fairly isolated from prying ears with soldiers surrounding them and the noise of the city in general.
That was exactly what Peter had counted on.
“Papa, you must promise to remain calm,” Peter said. “I am telling you this in the presence of Lord William on purpose. I will reiterate that Christin is well, but John invited her to sup with him last night. From what I was told, she tried to flee after the invitation was delivered but Sean de Lara caught her and told her not to run. He told her that John has confided in him that he wants Christin as a bride for his son, Robert FitzRoy.”