Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (7 page)

“What you need first is something to eat. One look at you and the justice will know you spent the night drinking.” Gripping Chaucey’s bony bicep, Leofrick nearly dragged him down the passageway. “A good meal will make you look and feel better.”

His stomach roiling, Chaucey gave in. “Mayhap I shall have time for a light repast. I am not at all feeling myself and it would not do to retch in my employer’s presence. He loathes illness of any kind.”

“I am sure he does.” Leofrick fell silent at the scene awaiting them in the dining chamber. By her red puffy eyes, it appeared his mother had been weeping. His father and brothers turned solemn expressions on the newcomers. Pulling out a seat, he plopped down beside Caine. “Good morningtide, family. What has everyone looking so glum this fine morn?”

“Spent the night passed out in the tavern, have you?” Edmund glared accusingly at his younger brother. “And if that were not bad enough, you dragged the justice’s clerk down to your new level of debauchery.”

“And yet you wonder why we never invite you.” Gesturing for Chaucey to take an empty chair, Leofrick pulled a basket of bread closer. “Today marks a joyous occasion.”  Biting into a roll, he spoke around a full mouth. “Speaking of which, where is the bride? Should she not be breaking her fast with the family?”

“Our sister shared a final meal with her family yester-eve,” Frederick said.

“I take it then she is not hungry this morn?” His expression innocent, Leofrick’s gaze settled on Edmund. 

“Why, you—” Edmund was cut off by his father.

Loudly clearing his throat, Richard addressed Chaucey. “It appears we will have bad news to impart to Justice de Glanville when he arrives this morning.”

Wearily eyeing a piece of pork, Chaucey stiffened. “Bad news you say?”

“I am afraid so,” Richard said. “My daughter was not in her chamber this morning. It appears she may have fled the house some time during the night.”

“She fled from the justice?” All thought of food forgotten, Chaucey leaned back in his seat with a look of shock. “That cannot be. No man would dare flee the justice, let alone a woman.”

“My sons have already searched the village for her. Her satchel and some of her clothing are missing. We can arrive at no other conclusion.”

Chaucey’s sickly grey pallor took on a greenish hue. “The justice is bound to blame me.” Twisting in his chair, he violently retched onto the flooring.

“By the Saints,” Frederick swore. Seated beside Chaucey, he lurched away from the foul splattering liquid.

“Frederick,” Emmaline sternly chastised. “Regardless of the circumstances, there is no need to use such language. Go and summon John to clean the mess. I believe he is chopping wood in the yard.”

“Pardon me, Ma.” Rising from his seat, Frederick stepped over the rancid puddle to summon the servant.

“Would you like a private moment to refresh yourself?” Emmaline spoke to Chaucey. 

Chaucey stared at her as if he had not heard.

“Caine, please show our guest to your chamber and have Cristine bring him soap, water, and clean linens.” When Caine stood to do as bidden, Emmaline turned her attention back to Chaucey. “Return to us when you are feeling more yourself.”

Dragging his feet, Chaucey followed behind Caine.

Emmaline’s concerned smile vanished the moment she heard Chaucey’s tread on the steps. “He seems to have accepted the story.”

“That is because he is a halfwit,” Edmund said. “The justice is an intelligent man. If he were not, he would not hold such an important position. It is only a matter of time afore he realizes Mylla vanished around the same time as Sir Talan.”

“The justice did not earn his position,” Leofrick said. “He was appointed by King Henry owing to the fact they are longtime friends.”

“Regardless of how he obtained his position,” Edmund retorted, “he is still intelligent. Given time, he is bound to figure out what happened here.”

“If and when he does, Talan and Mylla will be safely out of his reach,” Leofrick said. “That is all that matters.”

“It is all that matters to you,” Edmund came close to shouting. “If the justice discovers or even suspects the family has conspired with Talan, even mother will be executed. You may as well have slaughtered us all in our beds.”

“Edmund, keep your voice down,” Richard hissed. “What is done is done, and I myself have condoned it. We must now present a united front if we are to survive as a family.”

“Since when has Edmund ever thought of the family?” Leofrick stared down his older brother. “He only thinks of himself. I would not doubt if he were to tell—”

“Enough,” Richard sternly interrupted. “I have no doubt the justice will question us all separately. We must stick to the version we have all agreed upon.”

“I agree with father.” Caine returned to resume his seat. “If the justice even suspects our account to be untrue, we are all done for. The only encouraging factor thus far is that Chaucey seems to have accepted the story.”   

Pounding on the steps had them all looking toward the doorway. Chaucey rushed in with a stricken expression. His sickly looking face still damp from shaving, he had at least managed to spot clean his soiled tunic. “I heard a carriage approach so peered out the shutters. The justice has arrived.”

With a warning look directed at each one of his sons, Sheriff Richard stood. “Then by all means let us greet him properly.” The family filed out to gather in the hall. To the sound of an authoritative knock on the door, Richard shared a last long look with his wife. Opening the door, he stepped back. “Justice de Glanville, you are most welcome.”  

Without responding to the sheriff’s greeting, the justice swept into the entryway. A few years older than Mylla’s father, the justice was several inches shorter. Despite his regal bearing, his protruding belly emphasized his bowed shoulders and concave chest. Garbed all in black with King Henry’s royal crest embroidered on his surcoat an unpleasant sour odor emanated from him. Doffing his black velvet cap to expose his gray balding pate, his full lower lip jutted out to form a permanent scowl. Briefly noting each of the brothers who all but dwarfed him in size, his dark eyes searched for Mylla. “I have brought the finest of wines from France to celebrate the day, sheriff.” He flicked his gaze to a fidgeting Chaucey who all but cowered beside the door. “Retrieve it from the carriage.”

“I will do so at once, lord justice.” Glad for the brief reprieve, Chaucey rushed out the door.

Settling his dark gaze on Richard, the justice pulled off his leather gloves. “I had hoped my betrothed would be waiting to greet me. It has been far too long since I have gazed at her lovely countenance.”

“Please come in whilst my wife prepares the refreshment, lord justice. There is a matter of great importance I must convey to you.”

“I have a schedule to keep, sheriff, tis why I sent my clerk ahead of me. I assume the priest is waiting to conduct the ceremony?”

“Lord Justice, I am afraid there is not going to be a ceremony.”

“Now I am intrigued,” the justice said, “and I assure you that does not happen often.” 

“If you will follow me, we can discuss the matter in a more comfortable setting.” Richard moved past his sons to lead the way to the solar. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

The justice took a seat beside the unlit hearth. Sheriff Richard sat in the seat opposite. His four sons entered to stand behind him.

“Have your say, and then I shall have mine.” The justice clasped his pudgy hands over his rotund belly.  

“I fea—” his voice breaking, Sheriff Richard cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he began again, “I fear that my daughter left the house sometime during the night. We have thoroughly searched the village for her but she has yet to be found.”

Justice de Glanville sat unmoving as if taking in the information. He did not seem to notice when Chaucey timidly entered to stand quietly along the wall with the brothers. It was only when Emmaline came in bearing a tray with two pewter goblets of red wine that he reacted at all. Snatching a cup from the tray, he downed the contents.

Richard shared an uneasy expression with his wife when he accepted the second goblet.

“From what I gather,” Justice de Glanville said after a lengthy silence. “It appears as though your daughter does not wish a marital alliance with me. I am sure you will now try to convince me that I am mistaken.”

“I am not privy to my daughter’s mind, lord justice. I do not know what Mylla was thinking when she left home.”

“Women do not think on their own, sheriff.” Holding up his goblet, he waited for Chaucey to take it. “Bring the bottle. It appears I shall be here for some time.” After Chaucey hastened to do his bidding, the justice spoke again. “How do you know for certain your daughter left here of her own accord?”

“Unfortunately, I do not know the manner of her leave taking,” Richard said. “At this point, I fear anything is possible.”

“Yet you said your daughter left the house, not that she was taken from it.”

“Aside from myself, there are four able men living in this house who put my daughter’s welfare above their own. I cannot imagine a man brazen enough to enter here in the dark of night to attempt a snatching.”

“Nor can I,” the justice said.

“Which is why after conferring with my sons, we regrettably believe she left home of her own accord.”

The justice briefly studied the sheriff’s apprehensive manner. He then glanced at each of the brothers. “Are any of her belongings missing?”

“Several gowns, her cloak, and her satchel are missing from her chamber.”

“Has she a horse?”

“She does not,” the sheriff said, “and my sons’ horses remain stabled.”

“Witless as women are, it is still doubtful she would have fled on foot. Hence, we must conclude she is on horseback,” the justice said thoughtfully. “In any event, she is unlikely to have travelled far. Have you searched beyond the village boundaries?”

“We have not yet done so,” the sheriff said. “I would like to apologize for any embarrassment the situation causes you, lord justice.”

“Why should I feel embarrassed when it is you who failed to control your rash daughter, sheriff?” Accepting a full goblet of wine from Chaucey, the justice once again waved his clerk away.

“Mylla is my only daughter and youngest child...”

“What does that have to do with anything? You coddled her, and in so doing, allowed her to think for herself,” the justice said. “I assure you, she will not be given such leeway under my roof.”

“Then it is as you say, I have failed my daughter in every way.”

“So tell me this, sheriff.” The justice set his wine down. “Where do you think that leaves us?”

“It leaves me humbly begging your pardon for any offense my failure may have caused you, lord justice.”

“Oh, sheriff,” the justice snickered. “If you plan on begging my pardon, I suggest you do it on your knees.”

Chapter Seven

The sound of hoof-beats drew closer. Raising his sword out to his side, Talan planted his feet apart on the rutted road. “Mylla, conceal yourself in the trees.”             

“I do not—”

“Do it now, Mylla.” Talan’s tone allowed no room for argument. “No matter what occurs, you are not to come out unless I call for you.”

Mylla hesitated only slightly before rushing into the forest to do as bidden. Crouching down, she peered around the trunk of massive yew tree. Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she fought the urge to return to Talan’s side.

Four riders bearing the de Wrotham coat-of-arms, silver on a black bend with three gold lion heads rode into view. Giving Talan a cursory glance they continued on their way without a word to him. 

Sheathing his sword, Talan waited until he was assured the knights would not return. “Mon coeur, it is safe to come out now.”

Mylla stumbled on her skirts in her haste to reach him. She threw her arms around Talan’s waist nearly knocking him over. “I was so frightened.”

“Worry no more.” Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Without my coat-of-arms to identify me, I was naught but a cautious traveler to them.”  

“You drew your sword,” Mylla said. “Why did they not feel threatened by you?”

“The mare is an indicator that I am travelling with a woman. My stance was a protective one.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

“I recognized their coat-of-arms. They were Cornish knights bearing the crest of Baron de Wrotham. The baron once possessed an impressive keep on the coast of Cornwall. Until he was stripped of his arms, Euric was one of the baron’s knights. He would most likely be acquainted with the men.”

“You said the baron once possessed an impressive keep. Does he no longer?”

“By all accounts Baron de Wrotham has gone completely mad. He allowed the keep to fall into ruin. His knights have not been recompensed in so long they are no doubt this far from the coast searching for another house to serve.”

“Why was Euric released from the baron’s service? Did he do something wrong?”

“Baron de Wrotham believed Euric’s wife had something to do with his daughter Jaenelle’s madness and eventual death. Tis the reason he stripped Euric of his arms.”

“How could Euric’s wife cause madness in another?”

“She could not,” Talan said. “Besides, Bronwyn is a healer. She would never intentionally hurt another.”

“I still do not understand.” Mylla slowly shook her head. “What did the Lady Bronwyn do to make the baron even think such a thing?” 

“After Jaenelle’s death, evidence was uncovered that she had been a practicing wicce. Grieving his only child’s loss, it unhinged what remained of the baron’s mind. Since Bronwyn uses the old ways in her healing, he blamed her for bringing witchcraft into the village.”

“So he stripped her husband of his livelihood,” Mylla said. “That is so unfair.”

“The people of Cornwall paid no mind to the old man’s ramblings, and if you ask him, Euric would say the baron did him a kindness.”

“When first we met, I had no idea Euric was once a knight.” Mylla eased out of his embrace to make eye contact.

“He is still a knight just no longer in service,” Talan said. “Fulke has offered him his coat-of-arms on more than one occasion but Euric does not want to take Bronwyn and their children from their home on the coast. She has become the village healer and is quite fond of its people.”

“I know how one can become attached to a place,” Mylla said.

“Do you miss Rochester already, mon coeur?”

“I have lived in the village for so long I suppose I will always miss it.” Mylla hesitated. “Yet my home is wherever you are.”

“You hesitated,” Talan said softly. “Why?”

“Do you think it will always be like this?”

“Like what?” Talan’s brow creased in concern.

“Wary of everyone we meet,” she said. “Will we ever know what it is to feel safe again?”

“Are you having regrets about being with me?”

“No, and I never shall,” Mylla assured him. “When I was hiding in the brush, all I could think about was you.”

“Then what concerns you so?”

“I love you.” Tears pooled in Mylla’s eyes. “I do not know what I would do if something were to happen to you.”

“I cannot promise that something will not happen to me,” Talan said. “Such a thing is out of my control. What I can do is swear to you that I will do everything in my power to once again make you feel safe.”   

“I have a simple solution for you to succeed on that account.”

“And what would that be?” Assisting her back into the mare’s saddle, his hands lingered on her waist.

“Never leave my side.”

“God willing I never shall.”

The pair began to follow the Thames on the outskirts of Chertsey. The green forests eventually gave way to rolling expanses of plotted land. Serfs and peasants were busy in the fields planting and cultivating crops of wheat, rye, barley, and oats. From a distance a plot of flowering flax gave the appearance of a royal blue carpet spread out over the soil.

“You look weary.” Passing Mylla a bladder filled with spring water, Talan frowned. “You had very little sleep last night.”

“I had more than you.” Taking a refreshing swallow of the cool liquid, Mylla passed the bladder back. “I only tire of sitting in the saddle. It has been some time since I have ridden, and never for so long.”

She would not tell him she had only been on horseback a few times in recent years. Living in a large village it was not necessary. When her father discovered Leofrick had taught her to ride astride like a man, he had been furious with them both. She had pleaded with him to purchase her a sidesaddle so she could continue riding but he had refused.

“Forgive me for being so thoughtless,” Talan said. “I shall search out a safe place for us to rest awhile.”

“A little discomfort is nothing to the thought of being discovered by the justice’s men,” Mylla said. “Please, let us ride on.”

“If you can make it to the town, we will stop long enough to break our fast. If you do not feel the need to rest then, mayhap a walk afterwards will ease the discomfort you feel.”

“Do not worry so on my account.” Mylla smiled to reassure him. “I shall be fine.”

“It has been some time since I traveled with the fair sex. Please promise you will tell me if the journey becomes too much for you.”

“You have my word, my heart.”

Talan faced forward with a satisfied look.

“Did you think I would defy you?” With a teasing smile, Mylla guided the mare closer to Talan’s destrier.  

“Tis the first time you called me your heart. I quite like the sound of it.”

“Then I shall say it more often.”

The sun was high in the sky when they rode into Chertsey to the sound of church bells announcing sext. Villagers on foot filled the road leading to the church located at the end of the public square. They were forced to slow their horses to a walk to reach the two-storied public inn.

Dismounting, Talan assisted Mylla down before passing the reins to a young boy that came rushing out of an open thatched lean-to. “Feed, water and give them a good rubdown, lad. I shall see to you on the way out.”

“Thank you, mister.”  Bobbing his head, the boy led the horses away.

Talan looked stunned by the change in title. Noting Mylla’s regard, he quickly recovered. “Shall we go inside?”

“You cannot conceal your feelings from me,” Mylla said. “Does it trouble you overmuch? To not be addressed by your proper title?”

“I have already discovered I cannot conceal anything from you,” he said with a slight smile. “It merely caught me off guard.”

“Whatever you are called, it will never change who you are.” Mylla touched his sleeve. “You do know that, do you not?”

“I do.” He changed the subject. “How are your legs feeling?”

“A tad weak yet I shall manage.” 

“The saddle takes some getting used to.” Sweeping her up in his arms, Talan held her close against his chest.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Mylla glanced nervously around. “What will people think of such a public display?”

“I care naught what others think. My only concern is you.” Ducking under the door’s lintel, he stood for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light of the crowded common room. Spotting an empty table along the back wall he made his way over to it. Once they were seated, he signaled to a tavern wench for service.

Feeling the stares of other patrons directed their way, Mylla self-consciously smoothed her windblown hair.

“Whether it is a palace or common room, you will always be the most beautiful woman present,” Talan whispered.

A pleased smile warmed Mylla’s features. 

When a wench approached to serve them, Talan ordered two portions of the stew, a mug of ale, and a cup of honey mead for Mylla. Relaxing back in his seat, he surveyed the other patrons with a critical eye.

“Is it unsafe for us to be here?” Mylla leaned close to whisper.

“Worry not, mon coeur, tis only a habit of mine,” Talan said. “We are far ahead of any messengers from Rochester.”  

Famished, the pair settled into their meal the moment it was delivered.

Mylla finished the stew only slightly behind Talan. With her legs, lower back, and behind all causing her pain, she shifted uncomfortably on the wood bench. Her attempt to conceal her discomfort from Talan failed miserably when she found him frowning.

“I shall see about securing a room for the night. You need a hot bath to sooth your muscles.”

“Please let us ride on,” she pleaded. “We have hours of daylight left.”

“I cannot bear to see you in pain, Mylla.”

“It is only a slight discomfort. I shall be fine after a short walk.” To convince him, she reached over to cover his hand. “Did I not make you a promise?”

“Let us take our walk afore we decide,” Talan said. “I need to settle the tab and arrange with the inn-keep to send a messenger to Leofrick. I shall return in a moment.”

Mylla watched him weave through the tables with a tender expression. Determined to ride on, she kneaded her lower back and thigh muscles. She stopped the moment she spied Talan returning to the table.

“The barkeep will hire a messenger to arrive at The Wounded Stag sometime after vespers, or nightfall. I made an error in calculating our arrival so will send another once we reach Reading.”

“I do not understand,” Mylla said. “What error did you make?”

“At our current pace, it is doubtful we will reach the abbey tonight. We may be forced to make camp on the outskirts of Reading.”

Tears filled Mylla’s eyes. “It is my fault we cannot keep pace.”

“Do not even think such a thing,” Talan said. “Twas only a miscalculation on my part and matters naught.”

“You are only saying that to make me feel better.”

“In truth, I would do or say anything to make you feel better, but the fact is that I am used to riding horses trained for arduous journeys with men more accustomed to the saddle.”

“Did her ladyship have trouble keeping up when you traveled with her?”

“The baroness most often rode in the arms of my liege.”

“That sounds ever so lovely,” Mylla said dreamily.

Talan held out his hand. “Let us put the town behind us, and we shall give it another go.” 

Despite her best attempt to conceal how she felt, Mylla’s gait was awkward on the way out. Following close behind her, it did not escape Talan’s notice.

In unison they shielded their eyes from the afternoon sun. With the villagers either attending mass or out in the fields, they had the road leading to the town square mostly to themselves.

Mylla’s stride became more natural the longer she walked. Stopping beside a water trough, she smiled. “I am feeling more myself. Thank you for suggesting the walk.”

Heedless of the few villagers milling about, Talan pulled her close. “I would do anything for you.”

“I think you have already proven that.” Her heart hammering from Talan’s touch, her lips parted in anticipation.

Talan stepped away from her to glance back the way they had come. “Do you think you will be able to continue on now?”

“Aye, tis best we go now. Mass will be ending soon.” Clasping her hands together, Mylla failed to hide her disappointment.

Hooking his hand through her arm, Talan led her past the communal well set in the center of the village. “What was your girlhood like?”

“For the most part I suppose it would be considered ordinary.” Mylla shrugged. “The most exciting thing that ever happened to me was my trip to London where I had the great fortune of meeting you.”

“There is nothing at all ordinary about you.” Reaching the stables, Talan summoned the stable boy to retrieve their horses.

“Again, you are being biased.” Her good mood restored, Mylla smiled up at him. “Aside from visiting my mother’s family on occasion in Epping, this is the farthest I have ever been from Rochester.”