Daughters of the Dagger 03 - Amber (11 page)

“Thanks. I think,” he answered, seeing Mirabelle coming back from using the bush. “Just try to keep her quiet in front of Amber, will you?” He regretted now ever bedding the Goose to begin with. And especially being well in his cups at the time and spilling his secret of almost becoming a monk and that he wasn’t anything but a mercenary. This day was going from bad to worse.

“I’ll try to keep her mouth occupied if you know what I mean.” Sir Romney smiled. “Actually, I am bringing her back to Canterbury with me because I enjoy her company, just like you enjoy being around the nun.”

“She’s a novice, not a nun,” said Lucas, trying to feel better about his whole plan.

“Well, you’d better do something quick because your novice has just discovered your stash of fake relics.”

“What?” He looked over to the bag of relics on the ground and Amber was on her knees going through them with a crowd of people around her. He rushed up
to her, pushing his way through the crowd.

“What are you doing?” he asked, hunkering down next to her. The crowd of people started picking up the relics and walking away with them.

“I’m giving out these relics that you brought from the monastery. They were to give out to the pilgrims, were they not?”

“To sell! For money,” he spat, trying to pull them out of the hands of the pilgrims.
He reached over to a little boy with bare feet and torn clothes and dirt on his face. He grabbed hold of the horse tail relic in his hand.

“But these people have no money,” she said, getting to her feet. “Give them the relics with no charge, as most of these people have loved ones at home that are sick and dying. If they bring back a bone or hair or even blood from a saint then their loved ones will be sure to be healed.”

“No, they won’t,” he growled, feeing frustrated by what was happening.

“Yes, they will. Holy relics have the power to heal.”

“These aren’t that holy.” He let go of the swatch of hair and let the little boy have it. He was suddenly feeling horrible for his act of deception.

“When we return to the monastery I’ll contact my father,” she offered. “He’ll pay dearly for all these relics, I promise you. He is an earl and very wealthy.”

“Take the relics. Take them all for free, I just don’t care.” He picked up the old shoe that was supposed to be from a saint and hurled it through the air into the bushes.

“What’s the matter, Lucas? I told you I’d pay for all these relics so why are you so angry?”

“I can’t let you pay for any of them, so just forget it.” The pilgrims wandered away with smiles on their faces and Lucas knew that if naught else, he’d just given hope to these people who had nothing. Hope that a dying loved one may live after all, or that they’d be blessed and their souls would go to Heaven. Ironic, since he was the man with no hope, giving someone else the will to live on.

“But they
are priceless and certainly you must have paid much for them to begin with. I will see that you get what you deserve.”

“No need for that,” he
said, thinking how mad Father Armand would be when he returned with no relics and no money for them either. “I’m sure I’ll be getting more than I deserve, mark my words.”

After visiting two shrines that day on the road to Canterbury, Amber was hot in her wool clothes, tired and ready for bed. Nightfall was setting in and she figured they would stop somewhere along the road and make a fire and spend the night there. But when Lucas directed their horse toward the
Sinners Pub and Inn
, her heart beat wildly in her chest.

“What are we stopping here for?” she asked as Lucas slipped off the horse. Sir Romney and Mirabelle were right behind them.
The pub was large, a two storey building made of stone and wood, and had an attached alehouse for making their own brew. Just past that was a detached kitchen, and on the other side out back was a stable for housing the horses of the travelers on their way to Canterbury.

Amber had seen pubs and inns before while traveling with her father. She knew this one probably counted on the nobles passing through and probably catered to them as well.

“We’ll stay here tonight and continue on in the morning.” Lucas held up his arms to help her down.

She looked over to the pub and heard the music coming from within.
The wooden sign hanging above the door swung in the breeze, creaking on the chains that held it. Above the entrance itself were branches and leaves, and Amber remembered her father once telling her that that meant they served wine here as well.

There was laughing and foul language
spewing out every time a patron opened the door. And she caught glimpses of burly men in dirtied clothing as well as women in low-cut bodices inside. She would feel very uncomfortable in her habit walking into a place like this. She also knew she’d be reprimanded strictly for this by the abbess when she got back to the abbey.

“I can’t go in there,” she said. “It says Sinners Pub
and Inn. I am a nun!”

“You either go in there or stay out here by yourself all night,” Lucas growled. “But I warn you if you stay here, I’ll not be around to pr
otect you when the drunkards and thieves stumble out the door later on. I am hungry and thirsty and nothing is going to stop me from sleeping on a pallet instead of the hard ground.”

“But … those pallets are probably loaded with fleas and lice.”

“And you think there are no bugs out here in the woods?” he asked. “Now are you coming or not?”

“Come on, Sister Amber,” said Mirabelle walking over and pulling the bodice of her gown
lower to expose her cleavage. “It’ll be fun.”

“Not that much fun for you,” said Sir Romney, walking over and pulling her gown
back up to cover her breasts. “After all, I paid you for the entire journey and I’ll not be sharing you with anyone along the way.” He reached down and kissed her passionately and Amber realized this man seemed to have feelings for the whore. That made her feel even lonelier, as she wished someone would care for her in this manner as well.

“Well, are you coming or not?” Lucas
grumbled. “I am not going to stand here with my arms outstretched all night.”

“Well … ” she looked back at the
pub and then over to Mirabelle who was giggling and still kissing Sir Romney. Then she looked down to Lucas with hope in his eyes and his arms outstretched just waiting for her to agree. She could be happy and giggling and kissing someone like Lucas if she wasn’t a novice studying to take her vows. A little voice in her head told her not to go, but when she heard the cry of a wolf in the distance she knew she didn’t want to be alone in the dark out here in such a dangerous place.

“All right,” she said, reaching down and putting her hands
on Lucas’s shoulders as his fingers encircled her waist. She felt the warmth of his touch as he slid her down his body and something inside her felt as if she wanted to reach up and kiss him the way Mirabelle was doing to her man. She looked up at Lucas and expected to see want in his eyes like she had in the past, but instead she saw disgust.

“Take off that damned wimple already, will you? You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb in there as it is with your black robe. At least if you’re not wearing the headpiece you might be less noticeable sitting at a table.”

“Why should I?” she asked defiantly. “I am a novice and proud of it.”

“Have it your way,” he said, releasing her and g
oing over to unfasten the travel bags from the horse.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“In a place like this you leave nothing outside that you want to see again in the morning. As it is I’ll have to pay the stable boy extra just to make certain the saddle is here as well as the horse come morning.”

“Well, make sure you bring in my bag too,” she said. “Since I didn’t have my rosar
y or prayer book all day, I’ll need to pray extra tonight.”

“Yeah, righ
t,” he grunted taking the bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

“I’ll take the horses to the stable,” offered Sir Romney. “You go
on in with the ladies and secure some rooms for us for tonight.”

“Fine,” said Lucas handing over the reins to the knight and heading
inside. Mirabelle hurried forward and grabbed on to one of Lucas’s arms. He stopped and looked back to Amber. “Are you coming?” He held out his other arm to her and without thinking, she rushed forward to take it.

Lucas walked into the pub with the travel bags over his shoulder, a whore on one arm, and a nun on the other. The music stopped when they entered, and every eye on the place was on them. He never felt more embarrassed in his entire life.

“Sir, there is an entry fee,” said the bouncer at the door. The piece of wood he used to bounce the coins upon was under his arm and his grubby hand outstretched.

“You’re going to charge us to get into the pub?” asked Amber innocently.

“You
’re a nun?” the man asked, eyeing her up and down.

“Yes,” she said, raising her chin proudly. “I am
a novice of the Sisters of St. Ermengild in Bowerwood, and here on a pilgrimage to pray.”

The bouncer laughed heartily and lowered his hand. “And you
’re a whore?” he said, looking at Mirabelle.

“I am a Winchester Goose,” she said, raising her nose proudly just as Amber had done.

“And I’m a knight,” Lucas told him, knowing there was no entry charge for nobles.

The man laughed again. “It doesn’t matter what you are, I’d let you in for free just to see what’s going to happen. I’ve never seen a man enter with a n
un and whore both. This ought to be good. Now go on in, and tell Dagmar at the drink board that the first round of drinks is on me.”

“Why thank you very much,” said Amber in her most polite voice. “Go
d will bless you for this, good man.” That only made him laugh harder as well as everyone else in the pub.

“Come on,” growled Lucas pulling the girls over to a table. The room
was crowded and every table full, but when they saw him with the women, a group of men got up and gave up their seats, laughing.

Mirabelle leaned over as she sat down showing everyone
there her cleavage. The men called out to her and whistled, and the crowd became noisy. The music started up once again.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” said Amber, lifting her hand and making the sign of a cross. “God will –”

Lucas pushed her down in the chair before she could continue. “Sit down already and for God’s sake don’t say a word until
I get back. He threw the travel bags onto the middle of the table and looked at Mirabelle. “Neither of you say a word,” he told her, hoping to hell she wouldn’t reveal any of his secrets to Amber while he was securing the rooms for the night.

He went over to the proprieto
r, grabbing a tankard of ale off a tray of a serving wench in the process and tossing her a coin from the pouch at his waist. “I need some rooms for the night,” he told the man behind the counter.

The inn
keeper looked over to the girls sitting at the table. “You brought a nun in here?” he asked. “Are you mad? And you have a whore as well? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The whore is with Sir Romney who is stabling our horses. And the nun – she isn’t a nun, just a novice. She’s yet to take her final vows.”

“And you’re going to do your best ta see that she doesn’t, aren’t ya?” he asked with a smile.

Lucas hated how everyone could see right through his plans. First Sir Romney
, and now the innkeeper. He was only grateful that Amber hadn’t noticed.

“Just give me the rooms and stop with the questions,” he said. “
I want private rooms, as we’ll not be sharing a bed with half a dozen others. And send a wench over with some food and drinks to our table anon.”

“I only have two
private rooms left,” the man said with a grin. “But then again, that’s all you really want, isn’t it?”

He felt like punching the man for saying that, but he knew he was right. And the more
that people pointed out his deceit to him, the more he hated himself. He never thought carrying out his plans was going to make him feel so miserable.

“I’ll take the two rooms,” he said, laying the money on the counter. Then he pulled out two more coins and laid them atop the stack. “And here’s extra for a couple of baths sent up as well.”

He was feeling dirty and sweaty from his travels and hell if he was going to be around Amber and all her purity while he stunk. He had plenty of coin that he’d brought with from the last relics he’d sold, so paid for a bath for Sir Romney and Mirabelle as well. He was hoping to hell he could buy their silence as he didn’t want them spilling all his secrets to Amber.

“Of course, good s
ir,” said the man greedily scooping up the coins that Lucas knew were more than was required. “I’ll have it sent up at once. You’ll be in rooms number three and four.”

“Thank you,” he said, draining the mug of ale and placing it down on the drink board.
“And the bouncer at the door said to tell Dagmar the first round of drinks is on him.”

“Well, the second round as on me,
” he said with a laugh. I think you’ll probably be having many offers tonight to buy you drinks, as this is more entertainment than we’ve had around here in a long time.”

Then Lucas
turned back toward the table but stopped in his tracks when he saw Amber digging through the travel bag that held her gown and jewels.

“What are you doing?” he ground out, making his way quickly toward the table.

“I’m looking for my prayer book,” she said, digging inside, then stopping when she realized what she’d just touched. “What is this doing here?” she asked, pulling her velvet gown out of the bag.

“That is beautiful,” said Mirabelle, taking it from her and holding it up against her body. “This is the gown of a noblewoman, sweetheart. Lucas, where did you get it?”

“It’s mine,” she said softly, her big green eyes staring up at him. “Why do you have it, Lucas?”

A million lies ran through his brain, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her any of them. When he didn’t answer, she dug back in the bag and brought out her mother’s amber necklace and ring.

“You have these too?” she asked in amazement. Then those big green eyes were staring up at him again. “Lucas, did you steal all this from Father Armand?”

“Jewels?” asked Mirabelle, leaning over to see them with the gown still pushed up against her body. “Ooooo, let me try them on.”

“Nay,” he said, taking the jewels and pushing them back into the bag. “You keep flashing this around and we’ll have a fight on our hands as these ruffians try to steal them.”

His hand went to his wounded side just remembering the last fight he was in
, and aching from just the memory. He didn’t want to feel the stab of a blade in his flesh again. He grabbed the gown from Mirabelle and shoved it back into the bag as well.

A wench came up and laid some food and drinks on the table
. She put down a flagon of wine and four ceramic goblets and a big bowl of pottage in the center of the table. Then she threw down four spoons, but no additional bowls. “The drinks are paid for, and the meal is included in the price of the rooms,” she relayed.

Lu
cas gave her a half-penny for her trouble. She shoved in into the cleavage of her bosom and walked away with a smile.

“Have something to ea
t and drink,” he told the women. Mirabelle grabbed a spoon and started digging into the pottage, but Amber just sat there and glared at him.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.

“Not until you answer my question. What are you doing with my things?”

“They’re
not yours anymore,” he told her. “In case you’ve forgotten, you gave them up when you entered the abbey.” He picked up a spoon and leaned over the steaming bowl in the center of the table and scooped up a bite.

“And they’re not yours either, and I think you’d look a bit silly wearing them, so I ask you again why do you have them? And does Father Armand know what you did?”

“Father Armand was the one that suggested I bring them,” he admitted, which wasn’t a lie.

“Why would he ev
er do that? You are lying.”