Title: The Lamentable Truth of Planning

Chapter: 10

~~~~~~~~~~

Jocelyn had been in a helluva mood that entire day, Adhemar reflected as he attempted to decide what clothes to pack for tournament. She’d been following him about the manor since she’d left their chamber mid-morning, determined to get at the truth about Anne, Robert, and himself.

“Did he or did he not steal Anne on your wedding day?”

For some reason she’d a burning desire to know what had happened and wasn’t giving him any peace on the matter. She’d apparently decided it was a juicy bit of gossip she had to chew on, despite it being very old news. And here he’d not thought her the sort of woman to engage in gossip. She’d always seemed rather aloof and disdaining on such chitchat. Why she couldn’t get this excited about anything else in her life was beyond him. “Don’t romanticize it in your head. Anne and I were promised as children. We saw each other often and of course an attachment developed.” He pointed to one coat. “Not that one. The style is wrong. It needs to be reworked. Take it now and hurry back,” he told the servant actually packing for him in an attempt to gain a few moments of relative privacy with Jocelyn. When the young man had gone, he turned back to her. “What?”

“She says you loved each other.” The look in her eyes intimated that she’d ferret out the truth sooner or later and he should just tell her sooner rather than later.

Adhemar rolled his eyes. “Anne must always be right.”

“She lied?”

He sighed. Why wouldn’t she leave this alone? He couldn’t say Anne had lied, for she hadn’t exactly. He’d once admitted passionate love for her and she for him. Had that love been real though? At the time…. “She knew her own heart.”

“But not yours.” Jocelyn’s glance slid down to where his heart was in his chest, her expression in doubt as to whether he even had one.

“Does any person know another’s heart? Truly?” This counter produced a passionate reply from her that was as hearty as a bloodthirsty battle cry.

“Yes!”

“You only think you know.” Attempting to change the subject, Adhemar gestured to her trunk. “Are you packed yet? We leave for tournament in the morning.”

“I can’t go,” she spat in a petulant tone, crossing her arms and sitting heavily upon their bed.

“You’re going.”

“I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse. You’re going, end of subject.”

“As my lord and master commands,” she snapped.

His lips twitched. It was nice to see the spirit coming back into her. Adhemar had grown weary of that insipid Jocelyn who’d been trailing about his home for weeks. “I do command it. You’re going. You’ll have a marvelous time I’m sure, lording your status over those women you despised, spending your days trying to shop me out of all of my coins. I daresay you’ve possibly the skills in that area to do a large dent in our coffers.”

Her glare was murderous and her lips twisted in a sour grimace. “I hate you.”

“So you remind me constantly, but are you sure it’s hate you’re feeling?”

Her eyes narrowed further, nearly closing completely, and then her expression smoothed out. “I’ll go, but only from a desire to visit with friends in the stands, not because you command it.”

Yes, she had to make that clear. How quickly she turned the order to suit herself! It was remarkable how she could always do that. “Don’t let those women see you unhappy, wife.”

“Another order?” One brow raised, scorn implied.

Adhemar shrugged. “Advice -- from a man who’s seen how women treat each other when an expected match goes awry. You’d do well to portray anything other than displeasure, but…you’ll do as you please regardless of what I say.”

“Are Robert and Anne going?”

“Uncle has business to attend but may watch some matches. Anne will remain here with mother.”

Jocelyn was silent a moment and just when he thought she’d been successfully diverted from her sole purpose of the day….

“So, did he or did he not? I will have an answer, Adhemar.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When funds were elusive, one did his best to find lucrative avenues in which to regain them. Did it truly matter if they were…legal? Or even morally right? Survival must be considered and a man did what he had to do to survive in this harsh world. It had not always been this way. Once, he’d been wealthy in his own right. Soon, he would be again.

With his servant, he watched the travelers on the road below, taking note of the one he was most interested in. His man had done well in gathering information and he was quite pleased thus far.

“Keep watching. I want to know everything, including any others who might interfere.”

“Yes, my lord.” Gavin headed down the hill to join the travelers and his master turned to take another route.

~~~~~~~~~~

They were a merry bunch setting up camp. Christiana had to admit she was excited by the time they’d arrived. She saw many of their recent acquaintances had arrived early as well, lending more merriment to their camp. She’d not be nearly as bored as she’d at first thought. In no time at all their tent was raised and the bed put together, after which she set herself to creating a homely atmosphere inside.

Kate had gone to set up her business with the other blacksmiths, Wat and Adam to care for the horses and Will and Mark to pre-register. Mark had been all excited about that for some reason. Christiana supposed it had something to do with performing the actual duties he’d been hired for.

Christiana was alone. She didn’t mind it, taking a moment to enjoy the solitude. They’d set up camp a little ways outside the growing circle of tents, on a good patch of fragrant grass. Spring had definitely arrived, erasing the barren grayness of winter and lending a fresh scent to the air. Taking a deep breath, she smiled. She smelled grass, earth, and fancied that she could even smell the sunshine. It was lovely.

Tonight they’d meet new friends for food and entertainment. Henry of Burgundy had invited them to join him. He’d a talented minstrel traveling with him, he’d claimed, and they must hear him. They weren’t to be the only guests however. It was to be a large group that night.

Christiana was looking forward to it. Maybe they’d even have a few dances and she could show off her lightness of foot to Will. In all these long weeks, they’d not had a proper dance together. It was time to change that.

~~~~~~~~~~

Robert of Anjou divided up the coins in his purse. “These on Sir William,” he indicated the larger pile. “The smaller bit on Count Adhemar.”

From behind him came a gasp and he looked over his shoulder. Germaine was there, holding a heavy purse in his hands. It seemed Adhemar couldn’t be bothered placing his own bets these days. Robert plucked the purse from him.

“The same ratio on these.”

Germaine started, the panic speeding across his face nearly comical to behold. “Lord Robert, I don’t think --”

“And that’s the problem, Germaine. He’s taught you not to think. Try. Sir William is the reigning champion at the joust. He’s young, younger than Adhemar, and very fit. Adhemar is older and never quite recovered from last season -- though to convince him of that would be a Herculean task. Granted, there are others who want to win as much as those two, but out of all, who do you see fighting for his very survival in our world?”

Germaine’s mouth closed and he nodded in comprehension. “Sir William. He’s a new wife and a household to build.” Reaching around, he took half the coins from Adhemar’s purse that were counted out for Adhemar’s pile and placed them in Sir William’s. “All of these on Sir William,” he told the man waiting.

Robert laughed and clapped a hand to his back. “Good man. Just don’t tell Adhemar how you won him a load of coins.”

“I don’t plan to. I do value my life, my lord.”

Bet placed, Robert took a stroll through the streets, pausing to watch the blacksmiths working. As he walked, he took in the bits of conversation he heard about him. They were little snippets and sometimes, Robert slowed enough to take in more than a few words. Like the conversation on Henry of Burgundy. The man was now relying on his widowed sister for funds, having lost all of his yet again to some ridiculous venture.

Robert had never met Henry, but had heard plenty about him over the years. He was a wastrel, rogue, thief and every manner of devilish thing. Well, according to rumor. They’d not quite run in the same circles, nor had Henry ventured to tournament often. His last arrival, if Robert remembered correctly, had been the first year Adhemar took the title, and even then he’d not stayed until the end of those final games, leaving before the win.

He was not going to end up as Henry did. Gambling was not the only way Robert had figured out to gain funds.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kate was pleased to discover Gavin waiting at her work tent, a grin splitting his features when he noticed her approaching.

“Good morning, Kate. I’d so hoped you’d be here.”

“I told you we would be,” she said, studying him. He’d grown a bit gaunt since she’d last seen him, as though the winter had been harder than anticipated. “Tournament is our livelihood.”

“I see that.” He crossed his arms and followed her into her tent. “Your lord is in good spirits. I saw him out already this fine morning, taking in the market.”

“Buying?” She paused. Christiana would have a fit if he’d bought anything frivolous so soon, though she didn’t think he would. He was probably just working off nervous energy until tournament started.

“Looking it appeared. His lady was quite interested in a bolt of cloth when I last saw them.”

Unsurprising. Christiana had been hoping to visit the cloth merchants and perhaps pick out some fabric at this tournament. She’d tried to get Kate interested, but Kate really had no interest in the subject. Clothes were clothes, to be put on for decency and protection from the elements. She’d all she needed at present. Christiana had been horrified by the attitude, unable to believe that Kate didn’t care what she wore.

Despite Kate’s words to Will on how Christiana was just like them under it all, she really wasn’t. She’d left her family at a young enough age that the treatment she’d received from Jocelyn’s family was all she knew. Hence her interest in clothes. Jocelyn had been nothing if not extremely stylish. It made sense that Christiana would have picked up her lady’s interest and shared it. Considering how close the two had been, she’d genuinely enjoyed that interest.

“Will you have time for a break later, do you think? I could bring some food in a few hours and we could find a shady tree.”

She was tempted even though she’d already promised the next meal with Wat, Mark, and Adam. “I’ve got plans.” A quick glance outside the tent showed business picking up already for the other smiths. Hopefully hers would as well. She spied Wat’s bright hair in the crowd.

Gavin chuckled. “I should have known a beautiful woman such as yourself would already have an assignation planned.”

“An assi-what?” He tossed about fancy words about as much as Geoff had.

“Assignation,” he repeated, head turning and thumb jerking to Wat, who’d come close enough Kate could see him beginning to frown. “A lover’s meeting.”

“You mean Wat?” Kate tilted her head, staring up at Gavin, not quite comprehending where he kept getting such ideas. While Wat had declared his love for her, she’d tried to keep things only friendly.

“He is yours, as I recall from a previous conversation.”

The playful gleam in his eyes took much of the irritation from her. “It’s not just him I’m eating with, Gavin. It’s the rest of Sir Will’s men as well.”

Wat was almost upon them, trying to force his way through the crowd. They didn’t oblige him by parting easily, instead he appeared to be almost having to fight to get by.

“Then I mourn that I’m not numbered among them this day. I’ve errands to run, Kate, but I’ll be back and forth all this week. Perhaps we can eat together another day.”

He’d gone by the time Wat reached the tent.

Wat sent a glower that direction that could have curdled milk. “I’d thought we’d got rid of that Gavin.”

“Why, are you jealous,” she teased, reaching for her tools.

Wrapping an arm about the tent pole, he leaned against it. “When he’s around you don’t talk to me.”

“When Gavin’s around you don’t talk. All you do is glower and grunt. If you won’t talk, he will and I’m glad for the conversation.”

“He’s up to no good.”

A glance showed him unusually troubled, not in his usual sort of humor. Something about Gavin really bothered him and Kate paused. Wat could sometimes be very perceptive. She tilted her head a little in curiosity. “Do you know something about him I don’t?”

“No, except that men know when other men are up to no good. He watches you, Kate. You think he’s just being friendly, but he’s always watching.”

“You think he has evil designs upon me?” The words were meant to be light, yet came out with a slight tremor. “What sort?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’d ask you not to go off with him alone. Please.”

After a moment, Kate nodded. If Wat was this bothered then maybe there was something to his dislike of Gavin.

~~~~~~~~~~

The day of the tournament open was a fine one, with the sun bright in a cloudless, azure sky. Birds chirped and when Christiana emerged from their tent, she could see the crowd already growing near the stands. Will, Wat, Mark, and Kate had left already, leaving Adam to see to Christiana’s wants. She sent him ahead to help Wat and began the walk to the arena, nodding at familiar faces and noting market stalls she’d like to take a closer look at later. A few more had sprung up overnight.

Christiana’s steps faltered as she spotted Count Adhemar blocking her path. He wasn’t supposed to be there! If he was present, did that mean Jocelyn was as well? Her stomach lurched at the thought of seeing her when Christiana was the one reaping the benefits of Will’s affection. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue walking, her head held high. After all, she was very much in the public eye right now. She couldn’t run. It’d be too obvious he was who she ran from. Besides, Will had a match in awhile and if she wasn’t in the stands early, they’d fill up and she wouldn’t get a decent seat. She’d promised him she’d be there.

“Good morning, Christiana,” Adhemar purred, not moving from the path.

She stopped before him, gave a small tip of her head. It wouldn’t be polite to ignore him and go around him, would it? Not when he’d greeted her by name. A too familiar greeting, but a greeting just the same. “Count Adhemar. May I pass?”

“In a moment.” His glance swept the street, no doubt seeing all of those eyes turned their way.

“The weather is fine for matches, is it not?”

He blinked. “It is, but I didn’t wait for you to discuss the weather.”

He’d waited for her? Was that a good or bad thing? With him, one could never tell until after he’d spoken in full. “Then why?”

Adhemar appeared to be struggling inside himself, frowning, shrugging, half smiling, then frowning once more. “She doesn’t know,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Christiana thought she saw regret dancing in his eyes, which was quite impossible. Count Adhemar never regretted anything. She must be seeing it wrong.

“Jocelyn.” He waved a hand towards the stands. “She doesn’t know you’ve wed Sir William.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t tell her. Don’t you know I’ve kept her quite locked up and isolated.” At her cautious glance, he let loose a snort of what sounded like laughter. “You’ll all believe anything about me. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. No, I didn’t tell her because I don’t know how to do so without shattering her completely, as I’m certain it will.”

Shattering? “What’s happened?”

He avoided her gaze. “Will you tell her?”

“You ask me to tell Jocelyn I married Will?”

“Yes. She’s spent much time withdrawn into herself, paying little attention to anything about her until recently. Recently she’s been more herself, but I fear….” He broke off and she wondered on the use of that word. Fear. Did he really fear for Jocelyn? “Tell her however you feel best.”

Having left that weight for her, he strode off without waiting for a reply. However in the world was she to do this?

~~~~~~~~~~

Cautiously, Will approached the designated meeting place. Mark had exclaimed him daft for agreeing to it, citing one hundred and one reasons to decline the invitation all the way here. He found Adhemar waiting, his arms crossed and features set in a slight frown.

There was no greeting, Adhemar heading straight into conversation, gesturing towards Mark, who waited several paces away. “Your men love you. Why?”

Will blinked. Surely this wasn’t the reason Adhemar wanted to meet? Discussing why Will’s men didn’t attempt to mutiny his leadership of them and Adhemar’s had -- sometimes very publicly -- would take little reasoning out. Even Adhemar could figure it out with no help. “I don’t beat them,” he replied slowly, as though speaking to a child.

“I don’t beat mine.” He shrugged. “Only those who deserve it.”

Will shook his head. “You see, that, that, is but one difference between us, Adhemar. I can’t behave like that.”

Adhemar rolled his eyes. “Give you a decade and the experiences I’ve had in such and you could be me. We’re more alike than you think.”

Crossing his own arms, Will once more wondered why he’d agreed to this meeting. The message had been bland, a simple worded wish that they meet and agree to fair terms on the field with no ill will remaining from the previous year. “What do you want from me?”

A ripple of distaste crossed his face. “I want to know how best to…woo…Jocelyn.”

“Woo her? She’s your wife by your own doing --”

“Her father’s doing, William. I would have let her go after London. He was the one moved forward.”

“So you pressed on because he did?” Why did that not surprise him? Of course Adhemar would take whatever he thought should be his.

“I saw that no matter what happened, he desired men more than her happiness. She was his treasured daughter but only to a point. He wouldn’t have accepted you unless you had what he needed. I won’t be miserable my entire life because of you. Tell me how to make her happy and we can quit each others company.”

It was tempting, but he knew he’d never really be free of Adhemar as long as they both traveled the tournament circuit. They’d compete against each other again and again until one of them died or quit. “You don’t mistreat her? I seem to remember a remark you made once about saddles and mantels.”

“Do you believe every taunt directed your way to be truth? It got a reaction out of you.”

“You’re contemptible, Adhemar.”

“So everyone tells me these days.”

“I should let you remain miserable.”

A smirk tugged his lips. “Ahh, but you won’t let her remain so, not if you can fix it. You do still love her at least a little.”

Will sighed. Adhemar was right, damn him! Will couldn’t bear to know Jocelyn remained unhappy. “I’ll always love her in some way.” While it pained him to aid Adhemar, he wanted to help Jocelyn. Slowly, he nodded. “All right. I’ll help you.”