Free THE EARL (A HAMMER FOR PRINCES) by Cecelia Holland Page B

their clothes.”
    Fulk was tucking the end of the sling around his hand. “It’s the present style, very French. Like the women covering their hair. So Thierry is doing well for himself.” He could see Rannulf and Hugh, greeting guests—Hugh vivid and dark and Rannulf pale as ice. “I’ll have to go back to the army and protect my interests.”
    “He makes friends easily, Thierry does.” Chester smiled. “People are so easily fooled. The prince sends his sympathies. He wants you back at once.”
    “I’m flattered. Alain, thank you for coming.”
    Alain de Redvers, one of his tenants, took his good arm and bowed. “A jewel is gone from your treasure that you can never replace, my lord. What a splendid company to gather in these difficult times. You must be pleased.”
    Fulk bowed and said something appropriate. Alain exchanged words with Chester and rushed off—the leather of his shoes was dyed three different colors, and the turned-up toes shimmered with bells.
    “Byzantine.”
    “What is the prince doing now?”
    Chester reached out to take a jug of wine from a passing page. “Gathering everybody to go to Wallingford , having secured the west. He fights like a chess player. The confrontation should be interesting. The aging king, with the weight of years and experience, and the ambitious youth in all his glory.”
    “They confronted each other at Malmesbury and all we did was freeze. Has he agreed yet to give you Lancaster ?”
    “Of course.” Chester loosed a peal of his harsh laughter. “He knows whom he needs.”
    Fulk drank ale and greeted more guests. With half the earls in England supporting him, Henry needed Chester less and less. Rannulf was coming toward him. Fulk looked up at Chester ’s face.
    “Let us hope Prince Henry remembers his friends, my lord.”
    He bowed and moved off, so that Rannulf could talk to him alone. Rannulf glanced at Chester and put his back to him. “Father, Thierry is here.”
    “I know.”
    “He’s upstairs, he asks if you will meet him.”
    Fulk looked around for a page, and seeing him look, one rushed up and took his cup and went to the table at the end of the room to fill it. Fulk said, “I’m going to Tutbury to rejoin the price, and so is he. We will undoubtedly meet there.”
    “My lord—”
    “You’re going with me, if it please you.”
    Rannulf nodded. “Mother said that I should.”
    “Did she?” A twinge of uneasiness ran through him; even when she lay under the altar in the chapel Margaret went on. “We’ll go tomorrow.”
    “Will you see Thierry?”
    Fulk shook his head. Near the banquet table, Derby was talking to some of his tenants, and sudden laughter boomed out. Fulk took a step toward them. “I can’t, Rannulf. I don’t want to.” He went over toward Derby , wanting some reason to laugh.
     
     
     
     

 
    FOUR
     
     
    Leicester said, "That engineer of yours, Parin, was very useful. He explained it all in great detail to the prince, too, which kept him entertained. God’s wounds, you did get knocked around, didn’t you?”
    “I understand it took them a while to put it all back together.” Fulk patted his splints. “I don’t remember the operation. Parin’s a good man.” He sat down on his bed—they were quartered in Tutbury Castle , five men to a room—and stretched his legs out. “Where’s Chester ?”
    “In the hall.” Leicester made a quick turn around the little room. He was tall and lean, with grizzled hair cropped close to his head and a steep upper lip; until his twin brother Worcester had gone on Crusade, no one in England had been able to tell them apart. “Stephen can’t resist us now. There’s no way. Derby ’s come over, Warwick and Northampton are out of the way—everybody who hasn’t joined the prince is hanging back to see what happens.”
    Fulk lay back and folded his left arm behind his head. They had ridden all day to get here and his broken arm hurt. “There is Eustace. The king will