Chapter 12: "That I am banish'd and must fly the land"

                                    

                                          
Life is once again sorted. I'm back in Edward's company, and he's doing well. Our Scottish campaigns aren't legendary but they're also not particularly bad. Edward isn't ever going to be a great general, but between study and some practical experience he's not poor at it. Nor am I and I'm there to support him. His father is enthusiastic at it as ever, and finally announces Edward will be knighted, along with a couple hundred others. I'm one of the ones to be included in that. And I'm properly enthused. I'm past twenty and it's high time I'm actually a knight. 
And so there's a massive knighting and party. Lacking someone entertaining like a Richmond to chat to, I usually keep to the ladies. The men don't care for me and we've little to say to each other, and Edward's sisters are amusing enough when they're about, as are their ladies. That's a nice word for their followers, who yes help them, but often as I understand that's in the same way I help Edward.
"Flirt with me Piers, save my reputation," a girl named Alice, says, gripping my arm. She's tall and always has been chubby, with this red hair and freckles all over pale skin. The extent of our interactions is trying to get the other to laugh and waiting for our chosen noble to come and find us. She's my age, but in service of Joan last I checked, the eldest (I think?) of Edward's sisters. She and my Aimee get on rather well when they've the time.
"I ruin reputations and households last time I checked," I say, offering her a cup of wine.
"I heard that too. My lady said the king's finally realized what goes on in his son's bedchamber," she says.
"If he did he'd likely die of shock," I say.
She laughs, trying not to choke on wine, "I'd dare say. Aren't you in a filthy mood tonight?"
"I was born this way. As were you," I say, judgmentally, "Tell me, what else do they say of me?"
"Lots of untrue things, and worse, a few true ones," she says, "I meant it though about saving my reputation. Or rather ruining it."
"I'm talking to you at a party aren't I?" I ask, gesturing broadly to the finely dressed nobles milling about. Edward is talking with two of the servants, one of his little nieces clinging to his back. "I don't see your lady about."
"Joan's too ill. If she dies I'll serve one of her daughters more than likely," she says, "And I don't want gossip. If the men think I'm having an affair with you they'll think it's less likely I'm going to lie with any of them."
"Or at worst that they'll answer to my sword if they wrong you," I nod.
"Wouldn't hurt your reputation either to be seen with a woman," she says.
"Agreed, let's be careless, sadly I'm prettier than you are," I say.
She hits me in the side. I laugh. 
"I'm teasing. But in all seriousness come by my rooms. Edward will be playing dice late and I'm bored as hell with no jousts till spring," I say.
"Oh good I rank below jousts and Edward."
"I probably rank below pretty girls and music," I say.
"Girls, riding, music, and dancing, and any dog alive," she says.
"There's me put in my place."
I tell Edward about the arrangement later. He's more surprised than he needs to be honestly and more hurt.
" 'Girls don't honestly count' you said," I say, hands on hips, more amused than anything.
"I suppose not," clearly jealous, but unable to do anything because it was his rule, "Why though?"
"Would it not do us some good that I'm seen to be interested in the girls?" I sigh, "We're lucky the king doesn't care that I'm just mysteriously back at court."
"It makes sense but as a rule you have poor ideas," Edward points out.
I frown, because my ideas are usually great, "Is this about the jousting—,"
"YES THIS IS ABOUT DESERTING THE ARMY TO GO JOUSTING."
"Are you going to use that one incident to end any argument?"
"Most definitely," he says, kissing my cheek. 
Alice comes back to my room as promised. By then the nobles are all in their respective rooms, or gatherings, and not particularly looking for the likes of us. Even so, we're as indiscreet as possible about it, and I meet her in the hall to kiss her drunkenly.
We both are a bit drunk and laugh at this. I don't mind her thin lips, or bending down to kiss her, or the way her soft body feels in my arms. We don't love each other nor do we want to. We're amusing enough company when bored and drunk and lonely. According to Alice I'm an acceptable substitute for a woman. I decide that's a compliment.
"So you're having two affairs now, and our brothers don't need to know about either of them?" Aimee confirms, as we hide in our private parlor. 
"Correct—well don't look at me like that one of them is with a woman this is honestly an improvement," I point out, as I sit with Alice's feet in my lap. The girls are sewing or something, I'm trying to be drunk and waiting to see if Edward's going to want to be alone anytime soon. He's meeting with his father and other such things it's best I'm not invited to.
"I'm definitely an improvement," Alice says, "The idea is that people talk about us."
"Even so," Aimee stares at me. We both know this isn't how I was raised. I'm meant to be a soldier. I spend half my time in silk clothes, following around the prince.
"Yes, well, that is correct, talk about something else do," I say, waving a hand idly, "You take a lover and we'll not talk about that as well."
"I think you're doing well enough for us both, Perot," Aimee says, amused, "Speaking of, how's Edward?"
"Stop feeling sorry for him," I say. He can be jealous. It's not as though he won't marry or the like. It's not as though I officially exist.
"Well, he has to live with his family, not write mostly fictitious letters," Aimee says. 
"That's true, I suppose being prince of everything would help," Alice says.
"Hm, yes," Aimee agrees.
"I think he'd be all right if he'd been born, I don't know, a minor noble or a fisherman I think he'd be happy," I say.
"Maybe. What would do if you'd been born a royal?" Aimee asks.
"Have lots of ladies in waiting and sit about in fine clothes," Alice says.
"Me too. And play cards and collect books," Aimee says.
"That's essentially what the two of you try do anyway," I say, "Without the money part."
"Yes, it's called living your dreams, Perot," Alice says, kicking my thigh because she's got her feet in my lap.
"And the money part is important," Aimee says. 
"The money part is important," Alice says, "What about you? What would you be doing if you were a royal?"
"I mean—probably this. I'd definitely still be having the affair with the handsome fisherman or whoever Edward was," I say, tipping my head back, "He'd definitely still be jealous."
"Why, what does he think is going on, passionate love affairs?" Alice asks, gesturing to us generally. 
"He did for a moment, then he found out we're drinking wine and having pointless conversations like this and playing cards and now he's actually jealous he's not involved and he has to be meeting with important clever people. Like he's genuinely mad he thinks this sounds like a good time," I say, closing my eyes.
"Aw," Alice says.
"He's fine. I'm assuming he'll be done with them soon enough and I'll go up there and leave you ladies to your secrets," I say.
"What do you suppose we talk about when you're not around?" Alice asks.
I say nothing because I was going to say 'jousting' but I realize before I say it that's not it.
"He doesn't think," Aimee says, gently. 
"I think about jousting. I'm entered for April did I tell you? You're both allowed to come if you like," I say.
"I don't know where I'll be living, if Joan's still ill she might give me to one of the girls," Alice says.
"Well girls like jousting. Bring them, it's a tournament that's the point," I say.
"I'll come," Aimee smiles at me.
"Thank you," I say. I can joust without encouragement but I've grown accustomed to having at least a few of my friends in the stands.
"I'll ask. I'm just saying I don't know, you know how boring they are sometimes," Alice says. 
"You're telling me. Wonder what's keeping Edward? He's usually slipped off and wanting attention by now," I frown, eyes half closed, "If he doesn't turn up soon somebody want to help me look for him?"
There's a knock at the door.
I look at the girls who glare at me.
"I'll get it," I nod, standing up.
"It's for you," they both hiss. 
I fully expect it to be one of Edward's stewards just come to tell me he's finally escaped his family.
But it's not.
It's royal guards. Behind them hovers Little Wille, one of Edward's stewards. 
"By order of the king you are to meet with him tomorrow morning. You are henceforth no longer in Lord Edward's service."
"What?" I actually say. The girls behind me sit up, clearly having heard at least a bit of that.
"Report to the king's chambers in the morning," the guard says, nodding a bit curtly.
"You're to come to Lord Edward at once, sir," Little Wille says, quickly.
"He's sent for me?" I ask, considering the last message I just got I'm assuming that's not allowed? What is going on?
"He needs you," Little Wille says, nervously.
"I'll be back," I say to the girls who have now stood up. Aimee looks like she's thinking of telling me not to and is realizing it will do no good.
I slip up to Edward's chambers, using the back stairs as is my custom. None of his usual household stop me. My heart is racing. I'm dismissed? Again? Did they realize I just sort of came back? It's been a couple of months. And why now we've done nothing?
When I reach Edward's room I immediately forget my questions. He's crumpled on the floor, sobbing and clutching his head. There's blood running down his hand and arm.
"What's happened?" I fly to his side, putting my own hand up to stop the bleeding, "I'll kill whoever's done it."
Edward snatches me in his arms, ignoring the injury in favor of clutching me. He nearly laughs, "My father."
"What?" I tip his head to study the injury. I'm expecting it to be a blow, but with disgust I realize that's not the case. No weapon did it. No, at the base of his skull, chunks of his hair have been ripped from his head, leaving him raw and bleeding. I move my hand from it carefully, it needs to be cleaned and washed. 
"Come here," I draw him to the bed, he leans against me, sobbing bitterly. I'm well aware it's not for the pain he's got a higher threshold for it than I do. I leave him quickly to fetch water and a cloth, then return and he clutches me even tighter.
"You're not going to ask me what I did?" Edward asks, voice shaking.
"Nothing deserved this," I say, softly, sponging the air with cool water. It comes back bloody. I wipe his neck to get the stained blood off. It'll need a dressing and honey.
"He—he's sending you away," Edward says, gripping my arm.
"I know," I say, gently.
"You know—Piers he knows," Edward says, clutching my arm.
"I guessed," I was surprised we kept it a secret this long to be honest.
"Then what are you doing here—? You've been exiled!" Edward cries.
"I know. You needed me so I came," I say, "That's it I don't care."
"I do love you," he wraps his arms around my chest, hindering my cleaning of the wound.
"I love you as well, admittedly that's getting quite complicated but I am rather set on it," I say, giving him a good squeeze. 
"How are you so calm? I can't—I argued with him I can't save you," Edward says, voice shaking.
"I don't need saving. I'm well. I've family I can stay with," I say, simply, "We'll work it out. It's worse that he hurt you."
"Taking you has hurt me," he says, leaning against me, "The only thing I've wanted."
"Shh," I hug him back, "We'll be all right. We have each other. They can't take our love from us."
They can try as it happens.
I am externally calm but internally something close to panic. Edward has already been severely injured, and now I won't be about. What happens the next time his father physically beats him? What if Edward lashes back? What if there's not one of his friends about? I can't stand to think of him alone, and miserable, unable do anything but wait for my next letter.
The next morning I leave at dawn disentangling myself from Edward's arms grudgingly. I dress then wake him to tell him I'm going.  He remains mostly asleep but tugs me down for one final kiss. It's not as though I'm leaving yet. In theory.
And I report, causally as possible, for my orders. 
When I reach the king's chambers, I discover it's not going to be a private audience. Richmond is waiting outside to walk me in. He takes my elbow quickly, whispering, "Don't make this worse all right?"
I nod that I understand, and together we walk in. 
I don't know if you've ever stood before the most powerful man in the country, after having spent the previous night in his son's arms, about to receive your sentence for loving his son, but I highly recommend it. It is amazing. I can still taste Edward's kisses in my mouth, his sweat still warm on my skin.  Lancaster is there, sneering at me already, as is Warwick. Richmond joins them, solum. 
"Your grace," I bow deeply.
"Do you understand why you are here, Gaveston?" King Edward asks, he's staring down at me, cruel as ever. There's a stain of blood on the stone floor. Edward's from last night? They've not scrubbed it off.
 "Because I love your son," I say.
There's general silence for that statement and I can feel Richmond's eyes boring into me.
"Did he tell you what we spoke of?" King Edward speaks first, refusing to be surprised at my boldness.
"No, your grace," I say, hands calmly clasped behind my back. I'm calm as I've ever felt. Like the moment before the lance breaks. It's all set now. You've done your best. Now fate decides. 
"You spoke to him," King Edward says.
"Yes. I told him I knew your sentence was coming. He told me I'm to leave his service," I say.
"But you know what sins you're accused of?" Lancaster asks, he's nearly smiling he's enjoying this. Well so am I.
"My sin is love," I say.
"That is what you stand by?" King Edward asks, nearly aghast.
"I would be a poor knight, if I did not love my sworn brother," I say.
"That is what you are claiming is going on here?" Warwick nearly laughs.
"I claim nothing but that I do love Lord Edward. I stand by the oath I took when you knighted me, your grace. I serve you, and the crown. I will neither lie to you, nor betray you. And I hold no shame for love," I say, entirely calmly, head still held high as I look into their faces. Richmond appears to be masking a variety of emotions but I cannot tell which ones.
"And you say you do know what my son said to me of you?" King Edward asks.
"I do not, your grace," I say, "I came as I was told to report to accept my fate. I'm a man of honor, and I stand by your decision as another knight of honor. I've fought in your wars for nearly ten years, and have been honored to stand by your side."
"You claim to be a man of honor, but your actions clearly show the truth," Warwick snarls.
"He shows no shame or contrition, and should receive no favors, your grace. His words confirm your son's confession," Lancaster says.
"What do you say in your own defense, Gaveston? Why should I consider anything beyond exile?" King Edward asks, "You know your crime it seems. And your guilt."
"My crime is love. My guilt is love. I'm content to face the saints with the same confession. I confess to love. No word of god or man forbids it. If you condemn me for my love of your son you lose a knight who would gladly die for him. Who will serve the crown till his last breath. For if my words to you my liege and the earls have not made it clear, I have no fear that could lead me to contradict my loyalty, and my love," I say, simply.
King Edward stares at me, then looks to the Earls, "Well? What is your view of the boy's words?"
"He's nothing but a liar. He's arrogant, and a fool. He thinks he's gained some power, in bewitching your son the prince. Whatever his wiles he holds a a power over him and half the court. No good will come of keeping one like that," Warwick snarls.
"The laws of god clearly preach against his unnatural bond with the prince, and his crime of sodomy. The evidence is clear neither one of them has denied it," Lancaster says, obvious pleasure in his voice, "Given his insolence, it's clear he should face death."
"Then I die for love," I say, smiling at him. He struggles to maintain his composure.
Richmond finally speaks, "Gaveston is a knight of honor. More than once I've fought beside him. He shows no fear of battle. Whatever sins he may have committed are God's to judge and not ours. He has broken no laws of men or this nation. When you said that Lord Edward confessed he showed no fear so he has no sin in it his heart. Honest men have nothing to fear. He's professed his love for you my liege and for Lord Edward. There's no shame in a man's love for his blood brother. What would we hope to gain by dismissing a loyal knight who will defend his prince not only in battle, but also before us?  Every one of us takes an oath to love our king. When we ride into battle we swear to die for one another. What stronger love is that than that which compels us to be brother's in arms? And who are we to question, the love which God has put in his heart? No one has been harmed. And no crime has he committed. He's now confessed openly of a bond to the prince what more do we seek? Peter denied Jesus three times. Gaveston has not once denied Edward, nor his love for the prince. Honesty, loyalty, and yes love are all tenants of chivalry. There is no crime in love."
King Edward considers, continuing to stare at me like a dog watching a bird. I don't move or flinch, my eyes drifting to the Earls. Richmond blinks the slightest bit when I catch his gaze, some silent recognition of however this goes, he does not blame me for my words. 
"My Earls present clear evidence," King Edward says, coolly, "I know you to be a man of courage. But I must protect my son. You will be exiled, to await recall at the king's command. You must be out of England, by the 30th of April. That will give you time to make proper arrangements. As a man of honor, as you so profess to be, I trust you will have no problems in honoring such an arrangement?"
"I do not, your grace. Thank you," I bow.
"And Gaveston?" King Edward asks, though I've not really moved.
"My lord?" I ask, pleasantly like he just sent me to go fetch one of his daughters, not exiled me from the country.
"This has very little to do with you. I do not care about your intentions. I care about my son's conduct."
"My lord," I nod. 
"And when I say you will await recall. You will not be recalled. I do not wish to sully your record. But I would recommend finding a new occupation. Because you are never returning to England."