The Princess Who Rode on a Mule (4 page)

~~~~

“Robin
shall know now that I am nearby!” Hadley thought, as she hastened back to the
tree to which her mule was tied. She stroked the beast’s neck, but it seemed
affrighted, and would not be quieted. A fleeting movement caught her eye.

“Guard?”
she called, with quick-beating heart.

A young
man stepped out from behind a willow, his hands pressed tightly to his ears.
The mule gave a final “Haw!” in the youth’s direction, then abruptly ceased
lamenting, and dropped its muzzle to a green shoot that sprang up from the
ground.

“I know
this beast!” exclaimed the youth, letting fall his hands. He had a
good-natured, ruddy face, and the Princess recognized him at once. He was one
of the men who had thrust her mule into the coach on the day she met Tom Browne.
But what was concealed beneath his cloak?

“Do you
desire to go within the Tower, Mistress?” asked the youth.

Hadley
nodded. “He is not the guard,” she thought. “And yet he might render me aid.”
She reached for her purse, intending to remove the coins that lay within, but
her fingers, as if of their own volition, drew out her handkerchief, and
unrolled it to reveal the tiny hawker’s bell.

She did
not expect what followed. The youth’s blue eyes opened wide, and he took from
his cloak a large and gleaming bell of his own, and made it peal. The sound was
so deep and pure that even the mule lifted its head to listen, while Hadley
clasped her hands and trembled with joy. She closed her eyes for a moment.

When
she opened them, she found herself surrounded by men. Four pairs of eyes were
fixed upon her face.

“She is
a Lady at Court,” said the youth. “I have seen her with Steward. And that
infernal ass,” he added, giving the mule a dark look.

“Bring
you word from Master Browne?” asked an older man, his gray brows bristling.

“’Nay…aye…I
have come to see…the Steward,” said Hadley hesitantly. “Tom Browne…hath sent
for him…and he is to be released forthwith.”

The older man
peered intently at Hadley’s flushed countenance and then at the small bell she
held with trembling fingers. “Take her within,” he said abruptly.

~~~~

Hadley
was kept apart from the other prisoners and treated with greater courtesy. Her
captors built a fire in her chamber, set a chair in front of the hearth, and
spoke gently to her. They seemed to await Tom Browne. “One word from him, and
we shall be released,” Hadley thought, “or we shall be slain.”

He was
not long in coming. Ere one hour had passed, Hadley saw a horse and rider
approach the Tower, and a few minutes thereafter, Master Browne entered her
chamber, accompanied by two other rebels. He was bearded now, and his tunic had
seen rough use, but his gray eyes were as clear and keen as she remembered.

“Well
met,” he said, making a brief bow. “Delivered you my missive to the King?”

Hadley
flushed and would have spoken, but he shook his head and smiled. “’Tis no
matter,” he said. “I took you for an honest lass, and indeed I think you be,
but I did not know, until a furlong had come between us, that the King’s
youngest daughter was wont to ride about the countryside astride a gray mule.
And now you are my captive. What is to be done, I wonder.”

“His
voice is kind,” Hadley thought. “Yet he may deal harshly with us.”

“Be not
alarmed. None shall harm you. But I would hear why you seek out this Steward,
whom some do call a murderer.”

“’Tis a
false report! Lord Vardis yet lives! And he did attack Robin Cope without just
cause!”

“I
believe it. His Lordship is a tyrant. He hath caused much suffering.”

“Aye,
and there may be worse to come.”

“Why
say you so?”

“You
must ask Master Cope, for he knows more of the matter than I do.”

“Steward
is like to a mountain and speaks as little.”

“I pray
you…take me to him.”

Tom
Browne gave a signal, and his companions left the chamber, reappearing in a few
minutes, with Robin between them. They held him fast by each arm, and
endeavored to support his weight, but as his feet were yet bound by iron, he
scarce could take a step without stumbling. Hadley let out a low cry.

Robin
lifted his heavy head and looked at her. “Thou shouldst not have come,” he
said. To Tom Browne, he added, “My wife is a simpleton, and hath been so since
birth. She understands little and speaks no sense. ‘Twould be well if you freed
her, lest her kin seek her out.”

“You
slander the Princess! And yet she hath given a good report of you.”

Robin
scowled and looked away.

“I
would that we were friends,” said Master Browne. “Methinks you owe no fealty to
this mad monarch—.”

“—‘Tis
true my father is mad,” said Hadley softly.

All
four men stared at her.

“But I
would not have him harmed, nor my mother and sisters, nor any at Court.”

 “We
seek justice, not vengeance,” Tom Browne said. “’Tis a mortal sin to shed the
blood of innocents or e’en to oppress those whom one has vanquished. I vow
that—”

“—Let
him vow you no vows!” exclaimed Robin, struggling with his captors. He managed
to wrest one arm free, but was soon subdued again. “Lest the wretch perjure
himself!”

“Mayhap
you mean to have us all in chains, Master Browne,” said Hadley.

“Nay,
but if I were mad enow to unloose this giant, he should o’erpower us in a
trice!”

“If
Master Cope pledged that he would raise neither hand nor voice against you,
would you remove his bonds?”

“I
shall not,” grumbled Robin.

Tom
Browne was silent.

“Folk
measure the world by themselves,” said Hadley, almost as if to herself. “A
traitor sees naught but treachery, but a man of honor will entrust his very
life to other men.”

No one
spoke.

“Lord
Vardis—” Hadley began.

“—Aye,” said Tom
Browne abruptly. “If Steward vows to stay his hand and loose his tongue, his
fetters shall be broke. And further, I shall send these, my good friends, fro’
this chamber, that Master Cope and I may parlay as one man to another.”

~~~~

Hadley’s
return to Court had been heralded only by Susannah, who bade her make haste to
change her gown, “for ‘tis nearly midday and the goose is off the spit.” Now as
the Princess climbed the stair to the upper story, the Cook scolded the
scullery maid, a young nobleman laughed loudly, and a platter of food slid from
a lackey’s grasp and crashed upon the floor. But Hadley heard only the
tumultuous pounding of her own heart.

When
she reached her chamber, she donned a gown that her father had once commended
for its beauty, and plaited her tresses with trembling fingers. The round face
in the glass was her own, yet not her own, for she was divided from herself.
Little more than an hour ago, she had turned traitor to the King and all at
Court: she had persuaded Robin Cope to speak with Tom Browne. Now Master Browne
knew all that Robin knew of Lord Vardis and his knights…the King and his
soldiers…the courtyard and its walls. Soon, no doubt, the rebels (“a thousand
men and more,” Tom Browne had said) would lay claim to the crown. A dread
prospect, yet surely less fearsome than if the palace were o’errun by Lord
Vardis’s knights (“a heartless, knavish band,” Robin had called them).

“Our
lives are worth not a penny to his Lordship,” Hadley whispered to herself, as
she stepped out of her chamber, taking pains to avoid stumbling on the long train
of her gown.

In the
Great Hall, there was much merriment and conviviality, yet it seemed to Hadley
that many faces held a secret, and that even the most mirthful laughter
contained a note of fear. She persuaded Ingrid to change places with her at table,
that she might be seated nearer the King.

King
Valentine smiled upon his youngest daughter, and raised a glass to her health
and that of her prospective bridegroom. “For Lord Vardis improves apace! His
senses have been restored to him, and the physician believes he shall swiftly
mend!”

There
was a roar of delight and approbation which Hadley did not hear. She felt ill,
of a sudden, and was put in mind of a fledgling swallow she had once seen as a
child. It had stood upon a basswood limb, with its pale striped breast
outthrust, its wings stretched wide, and its little round head held high,
readying itself for flight, when a stone was flung by a careless youth. How
limp was its small corpse, dropped to the dust; how tightly locked its tiny
eyes, as though they had ne’er known light.

She
took a deep breath, shook her head to clear it, then lifted her chin. “Father!”
she cried out. “Let us drink to the health of all at Court, for we are in
peril!”

“Health
to all!” proclaimed the King, raising his glass.

“Health
to all!” repeated the throng.

“Father,”
said Hadley. “We are at risk of plague, of that I am sure. When I was out
riding—”

“Nay,”
scowled the King. “We have drunk to all, and there’s an end of it.”

Hadley
swallowed, then spoke again. “I beseech you to grant me audience, Sire.”

“Daughter,
you may tell a merry tale if it be not a long one, but let us have no talk of
‘plague.’”

“Well,
then, it shall be merry.…When I was riding, I met a trader who had journeyed
all the way from Wilgefortis, and he had seen much…” Hadley stopped, not
knowing how to proceed.

“I’
faith, I know this tale! It hath a wench and a donkey!” laughed a courtier, who
was giddy with mead.

“A
mule, more like,” murmured another.

“Clodpate,”
muttered the King.

 Joan
caught Hadley’s eye and smiled.

“This
trader,” said Hadley. “Vowed he had seen more dead and dying than he could
tell, though I shall not say ‘plague.’”

The
King’s face reddened.

“—But,”
said Ingrid. “There came a physician from Cockaigne and cured them all.”

“Aye…”
said Hadley hesitantly.

“I
would hear the end o’ the tale, since it is not ‘plague,’” said Princess Joan.

The
King turned to her with an angry look.

“There
is little more to tell,” said Hadley. “Only…‘tis curious how some villages were
grievously afflicted, but their neighbors spared. The village of…Heath was not
touched at all, the trader said, though all the folk in…Greetham were laid low.
He said, moreover, that all were spared in Basingham, where the water is so
pure. Yet here, of a surety, many peasants are infected, and methinks it may
come to us. I would we were in Basingham.”

“There
is naught of plague here!” said the King. “The peasants leave their work for
despite and treachery!”

“Aye, Father,” said
Ingrid, smiling sweetly. “And if the graveyards fill up, why the physicians
from Cockaigne may empty them again.”

~~~~

Hadley had planted
her seed well. Within two days, the King decided that all at Court should
remove to Basingham, to avoid the “great pestilence.” The King’s counselors,
who were timorous men, avowed that his Majesty was in the right, though
privately they held that there was no plague. “This trader hath much deceived
the Princess,” they whispered one to another. “Yet, powerful forces conspire
against his Majesty, and our lives are in some danger. Sire hath sent for his
soldiers, and if they return posthaste, all might yet be well. But for the
nonce, ‘tis wise to retreat from Court.”

Lord
Vardis, alone, opposed the King’s order, but he was yet confined to his bed and
could do little to forestall it. He sent his servants forth to hinder all
preparations made for departure, but the men in scarlet were themselves
hindered by the frequent presence of Princess Hadley. She was so small and
quiet that even when they thought themselves alone, they oft found that she was
nearby. She inquired hourly about the health of “my Lord,” and the two men
laughed behind their hands at her devotion to a prospective bridegroom who,
they knew, cared nothing for her.

Hadley’s demeanor
was calm, but her mind was sorely troubled. She prayed that Lord Vardis be
conveyed to Basingham before his knights arrived, for his army might then be
like to a headless tiger. She prayed that no man’s blood be shed in combat, and
that no woman fall spoil to a victorious army. She prayed for the safety of her
mother and sisters. And she prayed for herself…that she might live to see
another Spring.

~~~~

It was
the eve of departure. A week had gone by, and much had been done to make ready.
Trunks had been packed; carts, wagons, and horses procured; and additional men
and women hired, to do all manner of work relating to the removal. Some goods
and furnishings had been sent ahead, so that the Manor might be prepared in
advance for the arrival of the King.

Hadley’s
last trunk stood open on the floor of her bedchamber, and she stood beside it,
in her night clothes, gazing at a small key that rested in the palm of her
hand.