The Conqueror by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online Page A

Burgundy.
    One might have thought that this smiling prince was the ruler of Normandy. His train of satellites was numerous; he swaggered it royally in velvet and jewels, and used towards William an affectionate manner that was not untinged by the patronage of an elder cousin. The knights hung round him, and because he laughed gaily, and scattered largesse with a lavish hand, the common people always raised a cheer for him when he passed.
    Raoul hated him. When he saw him charming William’s knights away from him, when he heard him impudently usurping ducal privileges or acknowledging homage that was due to William, he raged inwardly, and wondered with a kind of sick disgust why the Duke bore with him, and never seemed to notice his graceful insolence. It was almost as though the stronger character dominated the weaker, but no man looking at the two faces could think William the weakling of the pair.
    Here, at Valognes, Raoul’s dislike for the Burgundian grew, and into it crept distrust. It was no secret that Guy had pretensions to the throne of Normandy, but until now Raoul had not imagined that these were anything more than the grumblings of a dissatisfied young man. So many seigneurs had objected to their base-born Duke, and there had been so many who asserted greater claims to his coronet that it was nothing extraordinary to hear murmurings amongst Guy’s court that it was he and not William who should be the ruler of Normandy.
    But now Raoul’s suspicions were stirred, and he began to watch Guy. There were secrets abroad; he had seen a note slipped into the Burgundian’s hand by one who seemed only to pass him on the stair, and once he had run against a stranger in the dark passage upstairs. The man had come out of Guy’s room like one who did not wish to be observed, and in the torchlight Raoul had seen dust of hard travel on his clothes. Later he had met him at supper, when it appeared that the stranger was come to Valognes on quite innocent business. But why, Raoul asked himself, had he been closeted with Guy of Burgundy; and why did he look confused when he had stumbled on Raoul in the passage?
    There befell an incident in the forest which kindled all his suspicions to a flame. In company with Guy, De Bohun, Grimbauld du Plessis, and some few knights and huntsmen, the Duke had gone out after bear. Raoul was in his train, staying as close to him as he dared, for the thought darted across his mind, when he saw of what doubtful men the party was composed, that if treachery were meditated this gloomy forest would be no such bad place for the execution of a dark deed. All the morning they had followed the hounds on a hot trail, under the shade of giant trees, and through dense thickets, further and further into the lost heart of the forest. The hounds had led them to their quarry, a big surly brown bear, and while they bayed and worried him the huntsmen stayed on the edge of the clearing, only the Duke, by his own desire, ready to run in to deliver the spear-thrust that would end the combat.
    The hounds were all around the bear, slashing at his flanks and heavy quarters, bewildering him, and rousing him from sulkiness to a massive rage. He fought them with his teeth, and his great paws. One of the bitches went over and over with a broken back; a rache, running in unwarily, crawled away dragging his hind-quarters and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
    William was eagerly watching his moment. Raoul had hardly ever seen him in so animated a mood. His eyes sparkled, and he urged on the hounds continually, shouting out hunting cries, and chafing for an opportunity to run in and engage with the infuriated beast himself.
    When the opportunity came he advanced quickly, grasping his spear, and struck with all his might where the neck joined the shoulder. It was an admirable thrust, but the bear had swung suddenly away, lunging at one of the hounds with a murderous rake of his forearm, and the spear was deflected slightly,