Prologue

Stephen de Blois came to London,

and the people received him

and hallowed him to king on midwinter day.

But in this king’s time was all dissension, and evil, and rapine;

for against him rose soon the rich men who were traitors.

Then was England very much divided.

Some held with the king and some with the empress;

for when the king was in prison,

the earls and the rich men supposed that he would never more come out,

and they settled with the empress,

and when the king was out,

he heard of this, and took his force,

and beset her in the tower.

By such things, and more than we can say,

we suffered nineteen winters for our sins.

To till the ground was to plough the sea:

the earth bore no corn,

for the land was all laid waste by such deeds;

they said openly that Christ and his saints slept …

–The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle

Westminster Palace

November 1147

King Stephen

The rap at the door was unwelcome, and for a moment Stephen considered not answering. But his attendants knew he was in his chamber—and alone—and they were likely to be persistent.

So rather than succumbing to his petty and uncharacteristic desire to hide, he said, “Come!”

The door opened, a bit more tentatively than usual, Stephen was pleased to see. His spymaster, William of Ypres, stood on the threshold.

At the sight of Stephen slouched in his chair by the fire, William put his heels together and bowed. “My king. We have received a message from Gloucester.”

Stephen straightened, his heart suddenly pounding with a combination of dread and determination. “Just say it.”

“Your noble cousin, Robert, has died.”

Stephen let out wavering breath. “So it is over.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“He was more than a cousin to me. He was my friend, once.”

“I know, my lord.”

Stephen couldn’t sit still any longer and stood to pace in front of the hearth. William knew better than to interrupt, though Stephen could sense his impatience growing. “You have something to say?”

“Maud hasn’t moved from Devizes in months, and rumor has it she plans to return to Normandy soon. This could be the moment for which we’ve been waiting, my king. The empress is without a general, and who is she going to choose? Ranulf?” William scoffed. “Henry? You defeated him easily in the spring.”

Stephen paused amidst his pacing. “You want to attack now? This late in the year?”

William stood his ground. “The weather hasn’t turned yet. Our enemy is weak and leaderless.”

Stephen chewed on his lower lip. “It would be unseemly.”

William allowed himself a single tsk of disgust before swallowing down the rest of his arguments, though he did muster the temerity to say, “At least consider it, my king.”

“What of our traitor in Gloucester?”

“He is prepared.” William took a step forward, an indication of his surprise and anticipation. “You—you are considering my proposal?”

“I am.”

“It is … somewhat underhanded,” William said hesitantly.

Stephen returned to his seat. As he studied William—and his options—his fingers beat a tattoo on the arm of his chair. “You are wondering why I won’t take advantage of Robert’s death to attack Lincoln or Devizes openly, but I am willing to seal Maud’s fate by taking Bristol by deception?” With its high ground, moat, massive square keep, two concentric curtain walls, and three wards, Bristol castle was eminently defensible.

“Yes, my lord.”

Stephen’s eyes remained focused on William’s face. He wanted his spymaster to understand that he’d never been more serious. “I will consider it because I want this conflict to end, and I must be the victor. Victory in this instance means not sacrificing more men at the foot of a castle I have been heretofore unable to take. But taking it from the inside because of my enemy’s own weakness? That I can do.”

Stephen could tell that William still didn’t understand the difference and thought his king was splitting hairs. Perhaps he was. He knew in himself, however, that he hadn’t moved against Bristol while Robert was alive because of their shared history and respect. He would and had taken his cousin in battle. He would have killed him on the battlefield had it become necessary. But he would not use subterfuge against him. Robert had been the very essence of honor, and in moments of self-honesty, Stephen could admit he’d admired him his whole life and as a youth had aspired to be like him.

But with Robert dead, William was right that a new strategy was required. Open warfare would serve only to tear England apart even more, but if he could take Bristol without losing an army, he would do it.

And end the war. At last.

William cleared his throat. “Henry is at Bristol.”

Stephen’s eyes lit. “Even better. I take him, and Maud is truly done.”

“I should prepare?”

“Indeed.”

William turned thoughtful. “We should send a messenger to Henry at Bristol with your condolences for Earl Robert’s death.”

“Of course.” Stephen paused. “But—”

“But not a man you need at your side for the coming endeavor.” William tapped his lips with one finger, and his expression became almost predatory.

Stephen knew that look. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he was more glad than he could say that William was on his side and not Maud’s.

“Never fear, my king. I know just who to send.”