Justice of the Root

by Abby Gordon

  “Mm,” hummed Julia. “Like I said. A man who knows what he wants.”

  “Julia, you can’t be serious,” gasped Meggie.

  “I am,” retorted Julia, going to the door. “And I’ll thank you to keep your mouth quiet about where I’m going.”

  “You haven’t told me where you’re going,” Meggie pointed out.

  “He and his men frequent the pubs in York. I believe tonight they’ll be at the Black Swan.”

  Suddenly Meggie shivered though there was no chill in the room.

  “Don’t go, Julia,” she whispered. “Please. He’s not a good man.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Julia smiled. “I’m counting on that.”

  As her sister slipped out of the room, Meggie trembled. “Come back, Julia,” she prayed. “Please, come back.”

  “Thomas, Charles,” William Talbor intoned.

  “William,” the brothers replied, nodding.

  “Edmund,” Charles greeted the man at the other Elder’s side.

  “I’ll leave you, Papa,” Meggie murmured, setting the ale down. “Shall I send Allen in with more for your guests?”

  “Mm, aren’t you a little thing?” Edmund murmured, stroking her arm with the backs of his fingers.

  “Please, sir,” she jumped away, glancing at her father for support.

  “Now, Meggie,” chided Charles. “Be hospitable to our guests.”

  Nodding, she stood still, trembling at the way Edmund stared at her.

  “Is there a problem, William?” Charles inquired.

  “No problem,” Talbor replied, then sighed. As naïve as Meggie was, she didn’t believe the sorrow that appeared on his face. “We have some very sad news for you. Edmund and his men –” As if overcome by grief, the Elder sat down and flapped a hand at the younger man. “You tell it, Edmund.”

  “I’m afraid we’ve found the body of your elder daughter, sir,” Edmund stated.

  Meggie held herself very still. There’s no grief or upset in his voice or expression. He won’t even act the lie. Why? Is he so confident in himself? In his position?

  From out in the main hall came a keening wail. “My baby. My angel. Oh, my sweet Julia,” mourned Anelle.

  Sweet angel? Papa and Mama are as blind with Julia as Uncle Thomas is with Joan. Oh, no! Julia’s dead and I think such a horrible thing. God, please, forgive me.

  “I am deeply sorry,” Edmund continued. The gleam in his eyes proving his words false. “Especially as Julia and I were discussing a commitment.”

  “What?” Charles gaped at him.

  “Aye,” confirmed Edmund, his eyes on Meggie. “And where I was raised if one sister dies while committed to a man, her younger sister takes her place.”

  “No,” breathed Meggie, shaking her head. “Father, there was no such commitment. Julia would never agree to such a thing without your permission.”

  “And I want a sampling before I agree to take the younger sister,” Edmund concluded, smiling wickedly.

  “What? No,” protested the girl, holding her hands out in front of her. “No, this is wrong.”

  “How old are you?” asked Edmund, eyeing her thin body.

  “I told you,” Talbor rumbled, standing as Anelle rushed in. “She’s eighteen. She’s a mouse though that hides in a corner. Charles can’t marry her off.”

  “Charles,” Anelle sobbed. “Our sweet angel is dead. She’s –”

  “Leave me alone with the mouse,” Edmund declared.

  “Who are you?” Anelle gasped, staring at him.

  “Are you sure about this?” frowned Talbor. “Doesn’t seem quite proper.”

  “Ha,” snorted Edmund. “You’ve had them younger. As have they,” he gestured at the brothers and grinned. “And I know when and where you Black brothers were.”

  “Impossible,” breathed Thomas, paling as he glanced nervously at his brother.

  “Oh, quite possible,” murmured Edmund, his fingers wrapping around Meggie’s thin upper arm. “Now leave us.”

  Confused, Anelle’s gaze went from the man holding her younger daughter to her husband.

  “Charles? What is this? Why is he touching Meggie?”

  “Leave us now,” Edmund ordered. “Or I will tell all of York what I know of all of you.”

  The brothers and Talbor were moving immediately. Charles and Thomas caught Anelle’s elbows and bore her with them, ignoring her protests. Talbor closed the door. Grinning, Edmund smiled down at Meggie.

  “Alone at last,” he smirked. “I thought they’d never leave.”

  “Please,” she whimpered, pulling as far away from him as she could go. “Please. Leave me alone. I’m not like Julia. I’m not like her at all.”

  “Mm, that’ll be even more fun.”

  He reached out, caught the neck of her shift and began tearing her clothes off. Every time she screamed, he laughed. She could hear her mother shouting in the next room, begging for someone to help her daughter. Suddenly there was a sharp slap and silence beyond as the last of her clothing was pulled from her. Closing her eyes at the twisted expression on his face, Meggie began praying.

  Struggling to hide her panic, Celeste had spent the afternoon and evening pacing the main hall. No one had seen Julia for three days. Meggie had tried to talk that first morning the family had rushed over, including an inquisitive smirking Joan, and been shouted into silence by her father. Edward had offered to organize searches through the town and surrounding area and been laughed at by the Elders. After that, Thomas Black had taken his daughters home and forbidden them to leave the walls. She had no idea what was happening at her uncle’s manor.

  Wrapping her arms about herself, Celeste paused by the side hearth and bowed her head. The Elders were greatly disturbed by this. She’d seen it in the expressions of her father and uncle. Could outlaws be moving into the area? But why would Julia have been out at night? Why wouldn’t Uncle Charles listen to Meggie? None of it made sense and she could only determine that it was because the Elders knew more of what was happening beyond York. Of course, they would be disturbed. Of course, they know more of the world.

  A clatter of hooves in the courtyard had her rushing to the door as her father shoved it open.

  “Father, what news of Julia? I’ve been so worried.”

  Thomas glanced around the hall and saw no one else. “What are you thinking, Celeste? It’s past midnight. You’re the only one without sense to be in bed.”

  Startled, she stood still as he walked past her to the office, then hurried after him.

  “Father, what news of Julia?” she repeated, voice soft with fear. “Please, tell me.”

  “It’s worse than any of us guessed,” he sighed heavily, removing his cloak. “Meggie has apparently been slipping out of my brother’s home for many weeks.”

  “What?” gasped Celeste. “I can’t believe it.”

  “It was difficult for me to hear as well,” he nodded, resting a hand on his desk and leaning heavily against it. “But Edmund and two of his men told of how she would go to the Black Swan and stay until all the men had left. Three nights ago, Julia followed her and tried to get her to return home. Meggie refused and incited one of Edmund’s men to –” Thomas broke off his words, shaking his head. “That a sister would do that to her own. Anelle became hysterical, of course.” Exhaling noisily, Thomas gazed up at the ceiling as if praying for guidance and strength. “Edmund immediately executed the man of course, for which Charles and I thanked him heartily.”

  “And Meggie?” Celeste breathed. Could all this be true? But how? Julia has always been the one more bold and rash.

  “It broke Charles’s heart but he threw her out immediately.”

  “What? Oh, no, Father,” Celeste protested. “How could he?”

  Thomas whirled on her. “To have a slut for a daughter? To have that daughter encourage a man to rape and kill her own sister?”

  Hand to her mouth, Celeste stumbled back until she hit the stone wall. “Oh, no,”
she moaned. “Impossible. Not Meggie.”

  “It’s true,” ground her father. “Edmund and his men swore to it. Edmund nearly broke down as he described killing his own man. Someone who had been with him for years. But he could not have him in his company after seeing what he’d done to Julia.”

  Dazed, Celeste barely heard him. Her brain couldn’t function. She couldn’t think about it at all.

  “And,” she swallowed. “And Aunt Anelle? How is she?”

  “Distraught, of course. As is Charles. He’s devastated to have sired such a snake.” Thomas drew himself upright and gave her a hard look. “Meggie is not to be given any food or shelter, is that understood? She has completely disgraced the family. She has brought such shame on us that I don’t know if Edward will want the betrothal to continue.”

  “What?” Celeste felt her heart stop. “Edward… Edward loves me. He will know that I am not …” She struggled to breath. “I am not like that. I’ve always striven to be a very moral, proper lady. As your daughter should be.” Tears filled her eyes. “I’m not at all like that, Father. Please, believe me. I’ve always tried to be dutiful and mindful of how your daughter should behave.”

  “I thought I knew that,” he muttered, making her tremble. “Charles thought his daughters were the same way. But can we really know?”

  “Father,” she cried out, rushing to him and kneeling at his feet. “I swear to you that I am not like that. I have never done anything to disgrace or shame you in that way.”

  Desperate, she clung to his leg, sobbing. After a moment, she felt his hand pat her head and went weak with relief.

  “There, there,” he murmured. “Sh, now, poppet. Dry your tears.” Bending slightly he helped her to her feet. He smiled at her. “Sh, now. Sh, now. These are uncertain times, Celeste. We must ever be on our guard and be careful lest our ways lead us into temptation that will stain us forever.”

  Nodding, she wiped at her cheeks and tried to catch her breath. “Yes, Father. What,” she weaved slightly at the thought, “What will be done with… with Julia’s body?”

  “The funeral will be in two days,” Thomas told her. “We’ll visit tomorrow. It’s a shocking thing, dear. Shocking. Remember to tell the servants that they are not to help Meggie in anyway. They are not to speak to her but if she comes to this manor, they are to find me immediately.”

  “Of course, Father,” Celeste whispered, nodding. “I’ll tell them first thing in the morning.”

  “Good girl,” he nodded, pleased. “Now, let’s us to bed before it’s time to rise again.”

  “Yes, Father,” she murmured, letting him guide her from the office and up the stairs.

  Chapter Nine London

  Closing the door behind Lady Ursula, Rose watched Alicia muttering as she moved about the rooms Lady Anna had been given in the Maids corridor. While scarcely bigger than the room Walsingham had secured for her upon her arrival, it was two separate chambers, giving the three privacy to bathe or empty themselves. Now, Alicia prowled from one end to the other. Rose hadn’t been alarmed until the woman’s daggers had appeared from their hidden sheaths. Deciding silence the better choice, the maid had tidied what she could without going into the older woman’s path and settled on her stool by the fire. She tried to read the French book but trying to keep an eye on Alicia’s daggers as she flipped them made that impossible.

  The door opened and both swung around. Lady Anna entered, quickly closing it behind her. Sky blue eyes gleamed in approval at the knife in Rose’s hand.

  “Excellent reaction,” she murmured before her gaze went across the room. Rose saw the bracing in her expression. “You’ve been told.”

  “I have,” Alicia growled, continuing her pacing. “What in all hells is the man thinking? You’re barely safe here. And he thinks to send you away for weeks with a man neither of us knows?”

  Rose held her breath and didn’t move.

  “I trust Sir Owain,” Anna replied quietly. “He is the queen’s cousin.” Alicia snorted at that and Anna rolled her eyes. “Walsingham trusts him.”

  “Walsingham has a purpose to this,” murmured Alicia.

  “He does,” Anna agreed with a nod.

  Rose caught Alicia’s exasperation and with the disturbance caused by the training yard and seeing Sir Daffyd, suspected what she didn’t think Lady Anna did. She kept quiet though, deciding that after Lady Anna had left, Alicia might be more likely to talk as she vent her frustrations.

  The next morning, well before dawn, Rose stood in the shadows of the steps and watched the scene. She was close enough to hear all but the whispers and bit back giggles as Alicia and Anna discussed cutting off a man’s privates. Watching Sir Owain’s expressions shift from dismissal to doubt to true concern nearly had her laughing aloud. She had no doubt that Alicia had done such a thing. She wasn’t sure about Lady Anna but was certain she would if necessary. Now, with Sir Francis returning inside as the two walked their mounts out the Trade Gate, she waited for Alicia to join her.

  The older woman’s mood was near what it had been the previous afternoon with extra concern. Rose stayed silent as they strode through the palace. Alicia muttered occasionally to herself and the maid bit her bottom lip as pieces of information began to form a picture. North. Tutbury is not the only place north. York. York. The scarlet rose of York. The gold rose of Catalan. Is it possible? How? Dare I ask? While kind toward me, Alicia is extraordinarily protective of Anna. If I’ve puzzled through something this amazing, what will Alicia do to me? Would she kill me to keep me silent?

  Rose glanced sideways at the woman as they strode through the nearly empty corridors. This early, there were few servants moving about and even fewer courtiers. I must ask. Something like this? Lady Anna might be in danger and I might be able to help protect her.

  Once inside Lady Anna’s room, Rose dropped the bar into place and went slowly to join Alicia at the hearth.

  “Alicia?” she whispered as if afraid someone could hear.

  “Mm?” The woman had picked up some mending.

  “Just who is Lady Anna?”

  Enigmatic eyes landed on her. “What have you puzzled out, young Rose?”

  Hesitantly, half-afraid to speak of her thoughts, Rose began.

  “She’s someone important. Someone hiding. Someone people want very much to protect. And others want very much to kill. You’re French, but she’s not.”

  “I told you we’d been in France,” Alicia countered. “Normandy and Gascony.”

  “Yes, but her accent is different than yours. I’ve heard a very few speak like that at court.”

  “Go on.”

  “When the daggers and sword came from Lady Ursula. They had jewels on the hilts. Red and yellow,” she whispered. “Lady Anna said she was a thorn. Like her parents. Like her grandparents. Yet that morning, Lady Ursula said she was with Lady Anna’s grandmother when she heard something tragic. And died from the news.”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  Rose twisted her fingers together on her lap, then lifted her head.

  “Before she married Sir Francis, Lady Ursula lived briefly with her cousin and his grandmother’s sister. At Hampton Court. In the manor of the widow of the Root of York.”

  Alicia’s hiss didn’t slow Rose down. If anything, it made her speak faster.

  “Lady Alinor died days after hearing about the massacre at Catalan,” Rose whispered. “Rumor has it she died whispering two names.”

  “What names?”

  “Celeste. Her daughter who everyone thought had died years earlier in a sweating sickness.”

  “And the second name?” Alicia said with quiet urgency.

  Rose met her gaze steadily. “A name I didn’t understand. Until recently.”

  “The second name,” Alicia prompted.

  “Anna.”

  Alicia waited patiently. Rose swallowed then took a breath.

  “I think that Celeste was sent to Catalan,” she whispered. “Married the heir to
the Root of Catalan and was Lady Anna’s mother.”

  The eyes before her glittered with tears. Seeing the truth in them, Rose continued.

  “Somehow, Lady Anna survived that horrible day. Because of you, she survived the massacre. And now, with the last Catalan killed in Rome, she’s the Root of Catalan and of York.”

  For a long moment the only sound was the log simmering on the stone.

  “That’s the truth you didn’t want me to know, isn’t it?” Rose murmured. “I’ll never tell a soul. I swear. I love Lady Anna more than my own life.” The reality hit her, and she trembled. “There’s a Root for England,” she breathed, suddenly catching Alicia’s hands. “There’s hope for Roses in England. Hope for the future. In her. Because of you.”

  “Because of her,” Alicia demurred.

  “She was a child,” Rose marveled, staring up into the woman’s face. “You kept her alive. For the last decade, you kept her alive. Brought her here safely. The Scion think she’s dead. Most of the Order think she’s dead. But you kept her alive. Alicia, you’re like one of the archangels come to earth. Like Michael himself with his sword.”

  That amused Alicia who shook her head, then turned her hands to grip Rose’s fingers.

  “Do you understand the need for absolute secrecy? For acting as if you don’t know who she is?”

  Rose nodded immediately. “As I have since the beginning.”

  “The beginning,” echoed Alicia, her eyes flickering.

  “What? What is it?” Rose asked quickly.

  “She thinks Sir Owain knows who she is,” Alicia said quietly, reflectively. “And now I’m thinking she might be right. We just need to find out how much he knows and whom he might have told.”

  “He’s closest to his brother and cousin,” Rose murmured. “And Walsingham.”

  “She insists Walsingham wouldn’t tell anyone. Nor would Lady Ursula.”

  “Then we need to keep an eye on his brother and cousin to see what they know about her,” deduced Rose. “And if they say anything.”