The Beekeeper

Chapter 4

Summer, 1189

The feast lay before the gathered nobles. A roasted boar's head. Pheasants, partridges, and roasted mallard. There was wine thickened with egg yolks, open pork pies, stuffed chickens, and poultry with sauce. Tarts, cakes, and other delicacies were plentiful. The wine, mead, and ale were plentiful as well. From his seat next to Briewere, Guy observed it all - thinking it a bit extravagant, even for an important political gathering. But it was meant to impress the men of the church – the bishop, in particular. No matter his true feelings, he knew he had no say in the matter.

His mouth was set in a deep frown – a not uncommon thing these days, considering the political upheavals of late – of which taking up the cross was much talked about. There was energetic discussion about the recent death of King Henry and the transition of power to his eldest son, Richard. Guy listened to the commotion around him...

"We will be taking up the cross soon enough. After the infidels attacked at Jerusalem..."

"Heathen devils!"

"His majesty has the heart of a lion, he does. He will bring victory to us all, and salvation to the savages!"

Guy heard Briewere's expected comment – directed at no one in particular, but spoken as a means of keeping up the conversation. It was one that was of course a nod to religion. How could it not be, considering the circumstances?

"With God's grace, the holy land will soon be recaptured. His majesty is the savior's instrument, and never was there a mightier conqueror than Richard Coeur de Lion."

Guy opened his mouth slightly, preparing to speak – but just as quickly, he held his tongue. His personal opinions meant little, especially to his betters. And in truth, his opinion of King Richard was one best kept silent.

It was indeed true that the newly appointed young royal was a fearsome warrior with a mad passion for battle. He had commanded his own army at the age of sixteen, and was known for his strong leadership and brilliant battle tactics. His desire for glory and all-out victory in war was unmatched – and in this, Guy found himself feeling resentment and bitterness. The previous autumn, Richard had boldly aligned with Phillip Augustus – the leader of the French kingdom – against Henry, his own father. Together, Richard and Phillip had invaded Normandy this past June, and Henry had been forced to align with them – only to die of illness just three days later. It was said that the king had not been cold in the ground before plans to retake the holy land had gone forward.

His own father, Guy said to himself, bothered by the thought of it.

He thought of Hadrian at that moment, thinking of the strange path their relationship had taken over the years – and how his own feelings about his father had changed. As a child, he had feared him. As a younger man, he had resented him. But of late, particularly during these past few years, a mutual respect had slowly grown between them. They only saw one another on occasion, as Hadrian preferred spending his time in Yorkshire. But when they did meet, it was on amicable terms. All things in the past seemed to be just that – in the past. And Guy was glad of it.

He wished that his father was there with him. Hadrian would be much better company than this lot of egotists with their overheated puffery. Guy looked around at the familiar faces – and was not pleased to see any of them. The meeting of the city council was generally a rather boring affair. Consisting of twelve elected townsfolk, the business usually consisted of granting permits, observing tax collections, and other such affairs. But tonight, the presence of the new bishop added an air of great expectation among the men that were gathered. When the bishop stood to address the group, the chatter quieted down at last. Compared to Winchester, Hugh DePuiset was not as intimidating upon first impression – but he more than made up for it with his tough and no-nonsense demeanor. When he spoke, the people listened – as they did now.