When Edward had defeated the enemy's troops, he called a halt, but it took a considerable time to gather his men, who were spread out over four miles, and lead them back up the slopes to the battlefield. Edward's victorious cavalry intended to attack the baronial forces that had been held in reserve, but to Edward's disbelief he found that the battle had been lost in his absence. His bloodlust flaming, Edward wanted to fight on, even though he faced the full strength of Simon de Montfort's army, but Rodger de Leyburn told him flatly that he would be sacrificing every soldier in his command. Wiser to order the foot soldiers to disband and flee to the safety of Pevensey, so they would live to fight an-
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other day. Edward saw the wisdom of Rodger's words, issued the order, then he and his knights took refuge in John de Warenne's castle.
The streets of Lewes, piled with dead bodies and strewn with wounded men, looked like a slaughterhouse that night. Simon de Montfort surrounded both the priory and the castle, but instead of storming them, decided to arrange a surrender without more bloodshed. Intermediaries went back and forth all night long, between priory, castle, and de Montfort's headquarters, negotiating the terms of the royal surrender.
In the castle, Edward drew apart from his knights. It was the most humiliating night of his life. He had been so confident he could pit his strength against that of his godfather, from whom he had learned his military skills. He took the whole burden of the loss on his own broad shoulders, because he had thrown away the chance of victory in the excitement of pursuit of the enemy. In that moment, he hated himself, and he hated with a vengeance the undefeated warlord, Simon de Montfort.
Only one knight dared to approach Lord Edward. Rodger de Ley-burn looked at the handsome young face above the bloodstained armor. "Do not blame yourself, Edward; you fought valiantly."
"I will blame no other!" he said grimly. "Excuses are for weak men. I made grievous mistakes today; I intend to let the lesson sink in deep. I will never make those mistakes again!" he vowed.
Rod had never admired Edward more than he did at this moment of adversity. "You must think of the future when you agree to terms," Rod said shrewdly.
"Aye, my father will promise anything, but I will not!" He looked over at his cousin Harry, sitting morosely in a corner, and motioned him over with a battered hand. "Harry, you will agree to be a royal hostage with me. I want my knights freed; Rodger here, John and Lincoln de Warenne, and most important is the freedom of the Marcher barons. The border lords must not be held captive. I'll tell de Montfort they are needed to keep the Welsh in check."
"We will pressure de Montfort to free you both," Rodger assured them, "but if all else fails, we will plot your escape." Rod flashed his devilish grin.
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Prince Edward, Richard of Cornwall, and Harry of Almaine were taken to Dover Castle, but because the barons feared their escape across the English Channel, they were removed to Kenilworth Castle at the end of May for safer keeping. Simon de Montfort took King Henry back to London with him and lodged the king at St. Paul's, where Queen Eleanor had taken sanctuary. He set up a new government, with himself as Protector, but shrewdly, he made Henry put his royal signature on every official communication and issued them in the name of the king.
At Kenilworth, Countess Eleanor de Montfort presided over the household that now resembled a royal court in size and importance. Earl Simon had three couriers going back and forth between Durham House in London and Kenilworth Castle, but often he himself traveled there with an armed force of 150 lances at his back.
As Simon and his men thundered beneath Kenilworth's portcullis, his eyes scanned the walls, eager for a glimpse of his wife. As he strode inside the impregnable stronghold, his mood lifted the moment he saw her, and his heart rejoiced at the eager, warm welcome Eleanor gave him.
"I am so proud of you, Simon," she whispered.
"Nay, beloved, 'tis I who am proud of you. I could never have achieved victory without your love and support. Though you are a royal Plantagenet, you stand with me against your family, and it humbles me."
She laughed up into his eyes. "You? Humble? I don't believe either of us is capable of such a thing." Eleanor saw him for what he was, and ambition was no small part of him. To England, Simon de Montfort was a symbol, to the barons he was a leader, but to her he was love eternal.
"You have always given me such wise advice, Eleanor, and though I have never told you, I think of you as my equal. From now on, I would like your signature on all official documents."
She was flattered beyond belief at her husband's words, and quite willing to place her Plantagenet name next to that of Earl Simon de Montfort, Protector of England. Eleanor smiled proudly and touched his face. "I am your woman ... forever."
De Montfort took charge of all royal castles and made his eldest son, Henry, governor of Hereford. He put his second son, Simon, in command of the forces of Surrey and Sussex. He also set up watchers along the
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entire eastern coast from north to south, to make sure that King Henry's brother-in-law, King Louis of France, did not invade England.
To ensure peace with Wales, Simon de Montfort invited self-styled king Llewelyn to Kenilworth, hoping he would sign a treaty promising no hostilities for a period of two years. The great warlord had become a statesman who was kept busy from dawn to dusk. But in the back of his mind were ever thoughts of Prince Edward Plantagenet. At the Battle of Lewes, he had experienced firsthand the prince's abilities regarding warfare. He had seen his fire and his sword, and knew Edward's vigor, strength, and determination. But what fueled his apprehension most was Edward's natural ability to lead men. Simon de Montfort wondered just how long the young lion could be kept caged.
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Rosamond's emotions were in turmoil when she received the message from her husband. Her reasoning told her it was right and just that Simon de Montfort and the barons had been victorious at Lewes, yet she was sore at heart that Edward and Rodger had been defeated in battle and that all the royal males were now prisoners.
Rosamond expected Rod to return at any hour, and her hand slipped to her belly protectively. She was five full months with child, and though her flowing gowns hid her pregnancy well, her waist had expanded and her breasts were much fuller. She knew that once her husband saw her naked, he would know her secret.
At the beginning of May, when Chirk had given birth to three puppies, Rosamond had been racked with worry over her Welsh terrier's delivery. To her overwhelming relief, all had gone well, but then her fears had been transferred to the puppies' survival. Rosamond worried that bigger dogs would savage them, or horses would step on them, or they would fall down the well, but Chirk carried them in her mouth from harm's way and seemed to be actually happy in her new role as mother. Deep inside, Rosamond knew her fears for her animals were rooted in her own pregnancy and the child she would deliver in four months' time.
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The lovely month of June had arrived, the afternoon sun was shining brilliantly, and a profusion of hawthorn petals was drifting from the trees on the gentle breeze, when Rodger de Leyburn rode into Windsor. Rosamond and Eleanora were playing with their dogs by the lake when they saw him. They hurried to greet him, and though the princess tried to be brave, she burst into tears when he gave her a private message from her husband.
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"I cannot bear that Edward is a prisoner!"
"He offered himself as hostage so that his knights could go free," Rodger explained.
"He has so much courage!" Eleanora sobbed harder.
"You must take courage from him. He has been taken to Kenil-worth along with Harry and Richard of Cornwall, and I know that Countess Eleanor de Montfort will treat them like honored guests, even though they will be closely guarded."
Rosamond knew Rodger's ability to always say the right thing, and was not surprised to see Eleanora dry her tears and smile at the news he gave her. She could not help staring at
her husband; he was so much taller than she remembered and twice as handsome. Her gaze traveled the length of him, looking for signs of a wound or injury. "Are you well, my lord?"
"Your anxiety pleases me, though I hoped you would run to me and fling yourself in my arms." He grinned wickedly. "All my body parts are intact."
Her violet eyes sparkled. "You are still a devil, de Leyburn. I enjoy your occasional flashes of wit, though not as much as your occasional flashes of silence."
He looked at the pups, then addressed Bebe, Eleanora's white Maltese terrier. "So this is what your indiscriminate mating has produced; let it be a lesson to you!"
"They are beautiful pups!" Rosamond protested quickly, then realized Rod was teasing her, and realized too how relieved she was that he had returned unharmed. She had missed him beyond reason.
When they were alone, Rod cocked an eyebrow at her. "If I didn't know better, Rosamond, I'd think you were happy to see me."
"Oh, I am! Nimbus and I will need you when she goes into foal. I managed with Chirk, but when my mare gives birth, it will be too daunting to face alone. You do realize that I suspect Stygian, your wretched black stallion?"
"You have a very suspicious nature when it comes to me and mine, but this time you are quite wrong, chérie."
"How do you know that?" she demanded, tossing back her hair.
"Have you any idea how long a mare carries its foal? "
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"Well, cats take six weeks and dogs—"
His deep laugh rolled over her. "You haven't the faintest idea. A mare carries even longer than a woman—eleven and a half months, to be exact. The old stablemen call it nine months, nine weeks, and nine days, so it happened long before we came to Kenilworth after the Welsh campaign."
"Nine months," she repeated hopelessly, and suddenly her eyes became liquid with unshed tears.
Rod enfolded her in his arms, drawing her close, and suddenly he knew what prompted her tears. "Oh, love, you're having a baby! Rosamond, that's wonderful news; I couldn't be happier!"
She gripped his arms tightly. "I'm afraid," she blurted.
He kissed her brow. "I understand, sweetheart. Childbirth is painful; all ladies fear it the first time."
She looked up at him wide-eyed with disbelief that he didn't understand at all. "Rodger, it isn't childbirth I fear! I don't care about the pain, for God's sake. I'm frightened of losing my baby. There are so many infants who die!" Anger was the only thing that would stop her tears from falling. Her hands clenched into fists, which she beat furiously against his hard chest. "This is all your fault! I never wanted to marry... I never wanted a child!"
Biting back a curse, he sat down and gathered her into his lap. He knew Rosamond had a fear of death, and he had heard that females had unnatural fancies when they were with child, so he chose his words carefully as he tried to dispel her dread. "Rosamond, there is risk every day of our lives, in everything we do, but we cannot let it stop us from living. It is wrong to dwell on death. If I did that before a battle, I would be paralyzed with fear and I would not survive. I have learned that fear can become your power once you face it! You have the miracle of life within your body, and I want you to cast away all fear and rejoice!" His powerful hand slid over her belly possessively. "Our child will thrive!"
Rodger de Leyburn was so sure of everything, so strong, so positive, that she began to feel a little of his confidence seep into her. She twisted her wedding ring on her finger and prayed that her baby would indeed thrive.
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Rod lifted her hand and slipped off her ring to show her the inscription inside: *Rosamond *Rodger*. "Don't think of life as having a beginning, a middle, and an end; think of it as a circle, never-ending, infinite, like our names within the ring." He slipped the gold band back on her finger and kissed her gently.
She looked up at him with a tremulous smile. "I will try."
"How would you like to go to Kenilworth and visit Lady Eleanor and Demi? You can talk to them about the baby; they will be so pleased. I don't believe they would object to my visiting Edward."
Rosamond began to laugh through her tears. "Two months ago you snatched me from Kenilworth and told me next time you would drag me back by the hair. Will you really take me?"
He kissed the tears from her cheeks. "For the mother of my child, I would do anything." He did not tell her that it was imperative that he communicate with Lord Edward.
"Oh, I can't go," she wailed. "I cannot ride Nimbus and I refuse to leave her."
"Come, we'll go and take a look at her." He set her feet to the carpet and pulled her along by the hand. In the stables, Rod ran his hand over the mare's sides and saw that in the two months he'd been away she had grown heavy. He suspected twins, but kept the knowledge to himself. "We will take her with us; you can ride another mount. Nimbus won't deliver before the next full moon, and that's at least three weeks away."
"What about Eleanora? Can we take her with us?"
"Absolutely not! Edward would have my balls if I put his beloved wife in jeopardy. We are going into baronial territory; she could be taken hostage and used for ransom or other bargaining. I am to put her on the royal barge tomorrow for London. She will live in sanctuary at St. Paul's with the queen."
"But what if she refuses? She dislikes the queen."
"Eleanora will not refuse. She is a dutiful wife who would not dream of disobeying her husband's orders."
"Is that a deliberate taunt about my disobedience, de Leyburn?"
He flashed a grin at her. "Your pregnancy makes you especially perceptive. Have you chosen a name for the baby? I favor Edward, a 245
strong and noble name," he said, adding quickly, "If we have a male child."
To taunt him back, Rosamond declared, "I favor Simon, another strong and noble name." When she saw his look of dismay, she added, "However, my favorite name is Jason, from Greek mythology."
He smiled into her eyes. "I am content to let you choose the name, chérie. Whatever pleases you will also please me."
******************
Simon de Montfort had not yet arrived from London, and in his absence, Eleanor de Montfort and her royal brother Richard sat next to each other at the high table in Kenilworth's Great Hall, as befitted their royal status. Lord Edward, however, chose to dine at the far table, beside his steward, Rodger de Leyburn. Harry of Almaine longed to join his two friends, but at a discreet sign from Rod he remained on the dais beside his father, Richard. Rosamond sat at another table beside her dearest friend, Demoiselle de Montfort.
"Rosamond, I am very happy for you. You had so many misgivings about marriage, but it has made you bloom."
"It has made me bloom all right; I am having a baby!"
"How exciting, Rosamond! When will it be? Are you sure? You don't look as if you are with child." Demi's eyes roamed over her friend's slim figure beneath the flowing gown.
Rosamond knew her young friend was bursting with curiosity about pregnancy; all unwed girls were, because they were deliberately kept in ignorance. "I'm sure, Demi. I haven't had my monthly courses since I was married, and this is the middle of June, so I have about three and a half months to go yet. I have had some morning sickness and I fainted once. My breasts are larger, and quite sensitive to the touch." Rosamond blushed as she realized the intimate implication of her words. "I haven't told anyone yet except you and Rodger."
"I warrant Rodger has already told Edward. From listening to my brothers, I learned males have a towering pride in siring heirs."
At the far table, Rodger and Edward were deep in conversation, but it was not about sowing their seed. "All the Marcher lords have secretly pledged to you: Mortimer, Hay, Clifford, Montgomery, and Bassing-
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bourne. Our base of operations will be at my castle of Tewkesbury, which is close to Hereford and Worcester."
"Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, will never forgive Simon de Montfort for taking the justiciarship away from him, nor for arresting the
Bishop of Hereford. Worcester was a royal town; now, however, that town stands with the barons." Edward shook his head regretfully. "The common man is on Simon de Montfort's side; the earl has the acclaim of the people."
"Edward, the common man has no property and little money; it is the great landholding barons we must sway to our side. There is already a sharp division among the nobility; the northern barons are standing aloof from Earl Simon and may refuse to attend the Parliament he has called."
Edward's deep blue eyes studied his friend for a moment. "You are the expert on human nature; why do you say they might refuse?"
"Granted, most are against bad government, and a weak, wasteful king, but I warrant it will go against the grain to see one of their own rank elevated to a position where he dictates to them." Rod spread his hands expressively. "Human nature is human nature."
Edward nodded shrewdly. "De Montfort made a tactical mistake when he took charge of all of the royal castles. That won't sit well with the barons. Even Gilbert of Gloucester's pride will rear its fiery head soon, unless I miss my guess."
"Gilbert is now the leading peer in the land, but because of his youth, Earl Simon will give him little say in ruling England. I shall make it my business to talk with Gilbert and increase his dissatisfaction."
"I believe the Marcher barons stand with me because we are all about the same age. They look to the future."
Rod grinned. "Human nature again. Both King Henry and Earl Simon are aging. The Marchers know you will be their king one day, and they don't want to anger you."
"They are greedy for land and castles, as is any man worthy of his salt," Edward said shrewdly.
"Aye, Mortimer of Wigmore is on our side because he wed Maud de Braose. Her mother and Eleanor de Montfort are mortal enemies
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because of land. She was heiress to vast lands in Breconshire, Wales, but it was a Marshal inheritance. When Eleanor's first husband died, she disputed the de Braose right to Breconshire."