Justice of the Root

by Abby Gordon

  Marc sighed. “I would’ve killed her,” he stated. “And the traitors would have found other pots to stir up trouble.”

  “Aye,” Griffin nodded. “It’s hard having an older brother who always seems to know exactly what to do.”

  “What did he do when Tante Anna threw her knife at you?”

  “He held a knife to her throat.”

  Silence dropped over everyone. Bernard stared over the edge of his cup.

  “How did he get close enough to do that?” he demanded.

  “And then she turned the pistol in her pocket just so,” Griffin demonstrated with his hand. “And offered to make him speak in a higher voice.”

  Laughter roared.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Sir Edward?”

  Turning, he saw the Welshman Eoin a few feet away. More a youth than a man, yet the rare badge of scarlet and gold roses gleamed at his throat. Not all of the London Roses wore it. Edward had been told that those who wore the double-roses had been in the company Sir Owain and his brother had taken to rescue Root Anna.

  “Aye?”

  “The Root summons you,” Eoin told him in a formal tone.

  “I will come immediately,” Edward replied, setting his mug down and rising from the table.

  As he followed Eoin, they passed George at the bottom of the stairs. Mounting the steps, they heard him giving out brisk orders to the Roses lingering over their meal. Trepidation creeped into Edward’s mind as Eoin walked down the corridor toward the Root’s solar. Had he displeased the Lady more than she’d let on the day before? Surely she would understand a man’s need to protect his woman? From what he’d heard from several of the Double Roses, her husband had acted boldly to save her after the attack on the Queen. If nothing else, the Shield would understand why he’d spoken up to stop the ceremony.

  Except this was the Root. England wasn’t used to having a Root, or the demands of one. The Norman and Gascon Roses had been at first surprised, then almost appalled and disgusted by the lack of courtesy by the Roses of York toward the Root. Many had tried to explain that it had been over thirty years since they’d had a true leader and the etiquette toward one had been lost. The Roses of France had not been impressed by their excuses.

  Eoin paused at the door and rapped his knuckles twice. From inside came the Lady’s voice.

  “Come.”

  Opening the door, Eoin preceded him, pausing and bowing his head before stepping aside. Edward followed his example in giving the Lady respect. He took in the room – a hollowed out table with the Lady sitting in the center. To her right sat her Shield and husband. To her left, grim-faced, was the Root of Normandy. To his left was his heir. To the right of the Shield sat the heir of Gascony. All wore black. The only color on them were the jeweled roses of their ranks.

  Eoin bowed again and stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. Fear flashed through Edward and he wondered if he would leave the room alive.

  “Yesterday you disobeyed me in the Minster,” the Lady stated flatly.

  “I did,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, Lady. But I couldn’t just stand there and –” Edward caught himself, hands clenching. “I know you had a plan, Lady. I’m sorry I ruined it. But –”

  The stern expressions seemed to harden.

  “But—” Lady Anna prompted.

  “Celeste was mine to protect,” he insisted. “Whatever her father had the archbishop do about the betrothal, she was, is,” he corrected himself, “mine. To even have her that near Edmund –” Catching his breath, he shook his head. “To know what he would have done to her. Knowing what he has done to women in York.” Daringly, he glared across the room. “I wanted to kill him.”

  “Yet you did not,” she commented.

  “You had commanded otherwise,” Edward replied.

  “You obeyed one order, yet not the other,” reminded Lady Anna. “Why?”

  Surprised by the question, Edward could only stare at her a moment. His mind whirled.

  “Your Root asked you a question,” rumbled the Shield’s deep voice. “Answer.”

  “I disobeyed the first,” Edward spoke slowly, thinking about the day before. “Because my first instinct was to protect Celeste from Edmund. To make sure he couldn’t do to her what he’d done to other women.”

  “Why?” came her stunning question.

  His jaw fell open.

  “No man would have wanted a woman near Edmund after hearing what he’s done in York,” he protested. “Did you really think I would stand by and let her become his wife?”

  “I thought you would obey my orders,” she replied coldly. “I want to know why you didn’t.”

  Confused now, Edward shook his head. “I don’t understand. I just told you.”

  “You were more concerned about the women Edmund had harmed?”

  “No,” he exclaimed. “I mean, yes, I was worried about them when I learned of his behavior. Because of that, I wasn’t going to risk Celeste being at his mercy.”

  The pale blue eyes narrowed. “Yet you tried to frighten her with his behavior.”

  Shamed, Edward nodded, realizing she had already talked to Celeste. What did Celeste say? Am I to be killed in this room? “I did, Lady. I hoped it would make her see reason.”

  “See reason?” Lady Anna mocked his words. “Sir Edward, you gave her no reason at all that day.”

  “I told her I’d learned that our fathers, all four Elders and others in the north were conspiring to commit treason by raising an army in rebellion to the queen. She didn’t believe me.”

  “What proof did you give her? What reassurance?” questioned Lady Anna.

  “What?” Edward frowned.

  “Did you think Celeste would blindly accept your word? Would turn against her father and uncle without proof? Or did you think her so in love with you that she would simply accept what you told her?”

  “I thought she would believe me. That she loved me.”

  “She also loved her father and uncle,” Lady Anna pointed out. “Or did you think her stupid? Or that she would so simply and easily follow where you went?”

  “I was to be her husband. A wife should –” Edward snapped his mouth shut, eyes darting to the Shield.

  “Some brains at least not to push further there,” observed the Baron of Corwen.

  “You gave her no proof?” Lady Anna asked. “You didn’t tell her about letters, overheard conversations or anything else? You simply said – our fathers are traitors and you must believe me.”

  “Not quite like that,” Edward replied defensively.

  “What words did I miss?” wondered the Root. “Perhaps your words that no matter what your fathers had done, you loved her? That regardless of their actions, you and she would still marry?” Her head tilted slightly. “Did you say any of that, Sir Edward? Anything to soften the blow of your words? To ease the shock of her father’s treason with the assurance of your steadfast love?”

  Surely she understands – Edward stopped that line of thought because he saw his mistake. Shame had his shoulders slump slightly.

  “I did not say any of that, Lady,” he managed quietly. “I should have. I see that now. I can see her face in my mind, the pleading in her eyes, for some words like that. I gave her none.”

  “Why?”

  There was a quiet demand in the one word.

  “Because I was full of my own importance,” Edward stated. “I was arrogant enough to assume that because I said or did a thing she would accept it and be with me. My relationship with my father has been strained for years, especially these past months. Because of that, it was easier for me to condemn him. Celeste is not that way. She is loving and forgiving, much more than most deserve. She always wanted to please her father, have his approval. I should have known how difficult my words would have been for her to hear.”

  Memory of the shock and agony in her eyes as they filled with horror and denial had him closing his eyes.

  “And then?” Lady
Anna wondered. “Did she ask you for proof?”

  Nodding, he looked at her. “She did, Lady. Again, I gave her none. I –” He swallowed. “I demanded she believe me. Leave with me.”

  “Choose you over her father on your word alone.” The statement fell between them.

  “Aye,” he whispered.

  “You are arrogant,” she murmured. “So why then did you act the way you did yesterday in the cathedral? Simply to ensure another woman did not fall victim to Edmund?”

  “No,” Edward protested.

  “Edward, how difficult is it?” The Lady’s voice was patient and gentle as if she were talking to a child. “I realize the emotion is difficult for men to deal with and the words even harder to say, but without them, life is tougher than it needs be.”

  Helplessly confused, he stared at her. Finally her mouth softened into a small smile.

  “Edward, either say them, or Celeste comes to Wales with me.”

  “No,” he denied, stepping forward.

  The Shield stood, hand on his sword. Edward halted, heaving in a breath. Anna made no move to signal her husband. And the Yorkshire man sensed she wouldn’t stop Owain if he drew his blade.

  “You humiliated her before York in the Minster when you announced your intimacy to all,” Anna stated. “If you cannot tell me why, then I cannot leave her here to deal with the shame.”

  “She is my wife,” Edward insisted. “From the day we were betrothed, I considered her my wife before God.”

  “Why? Because of her name? Because of her body? Why did you claim her before all?” Anna pressed.

  “Because I love her!” he yelled.

  With a grin, the Shield took his seat and glanced at Armand.

  “I won.”

  The Gascon grunted, reached into a pouch and pulled a coin before handing it to him. Anna glanced at the two of them, rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Edward. Holding his breath, he thought he’d made some progress.

  “So then,” Anna continued. “We have the reason for your disobedience. What is the reason for your obedience?”

  “Celeste was safe,” Edward stated firmly. “Yes, I wanted to drive my blade into his belly, regardless of where we were. I still do. But once she was safe, once I was between her and Edmund, some reason returned to me.”

  “And therefore remembered the purpose of being there?” Anna asked.

  Edward simply gazed at the Root. “Lady, my purpose was to stop Celeste marrying Edmund. I know that was not your purpose. I know it was not the purpose of a Rose, but –”

  “But it was the purpose of a man in love,” she finished quietly.

  “Aye, Lady,” he confirmed with a nod. “A man who’s realized I still haven’t told her that.”

  Anna turned to her husband and smiled. “I won that.”

  Disgruntled, Owain handed her the coin Armand had given him. Edward stared at them with his mouth open.

  “Are there any other bets?” he asked.

  “Perhaps,” the Root smiled, tucking the coin into the pouch at her waist. “Sir Edward, could you beat Edmund with swords?”

  “Aye, Lady,” he replied.

  “I believe you lost the last fight,” she said, frowning slightly.

  “That was against him and four others,” Edward told her. “And I was hit from behind.”

  “Edmund does not seem to be one who would fight honorably,” Anna mused. “Would you do whatever necessary to defeat him?”

  “To kill him?” Edward asked.

  “Aye,” she confirmed. “To kill him.”

  “Lady, I would do everything within my power to kill Edmund Richland,” he vowed.

  The five at the table were silent. Edward’s gaze went to each of the men then back to her.

  “Were there no bets on that one?” he wondered.

  “That,” the Norman Root rumbled, “Was the one thing we all agreed on.”

  Edward started to grin, then frowned. “I think I find it troubling that you didn’t think I loved her.”

  “She doesn’t think you love her,” Anna told him in a sad voice. “In fact, she’s quite certain that you don’t.”

  “Then I must find her and –”

  He turned and reached for the door. Hearing wood scraping against stone, he froze, then glanced over his shoulder. Only Anna was still in her seat. All four men were up and moving around the table toward him.

  “My apologies, Lady Anna,” Edward said with a quick bow. “We have been too long without a Root.”

  “You think that excuses it?” Owain growled.

  “Owain,” Anna said quietly, her gaze on her husband. The Baron glanced over his shoulder. “Griffin.”

  That puzzled Edward but its meaning was known to the Shield. With a sigh, he released his hand’s grip on the hilt.

  “Understood, love,” he murmured.

  “There is much to correct in England,” Anna stated. “Both for the Root and the Queen.”

  Owain scowled but Anna shook her head. A quick rap on the door had Edward moving to the wall, hand at his sword then glancing at her. She gave him a quick smile of approval.

  “Come,” she called.

  George pushed the door opening, bowing his head.

  “Everything is ready, Lady Root.”

  “Excellent, George. Thank you,” she replied, standing. “And perfect timing,” she commented as she came around the table to join her husband. “Edward, stay with the Shield. Make no move until I call your name.”

  Call my name? Edward bowed. “Aye, Lady.”

  “George,” Anna gestured with her hand and the man turned smartly and practically marched ahead of her.

  Head high, the Root swept out of the room with the Norman Root at her left. Edward didn’t move as the Heirs followed them. She said stay with the Shield so that’s what I’m doing. Now he waited, puzzled at the man’s not following the Root, but determined to follow his orders.

  When the footsteps had faded, Owain’s bronze eyes turned to him.

  “Why did the York Roses do nothing, why did they not act? Why was it left to so few to be loyal?” he asked bluntly.

  “We did not see,” Edward whispered. “Or did not want to see. Even when I started to see it was out of self-interest. My father seemed to fawn over a man he claimed as his bastard son.”

  Owain nodded. “So when Jaspar told you some, you were willing to listen.”

  “Which is again where I erred with Celeste,” Edward muttered. “She had no hint or warning.”

  “You’re learning fast,” approved the Shield.

  “I suppose it was smoother and easier for you with the Root,” grumbled Edward.

  To his surprise, Owain laughed. Clapping a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, he started for the door.

  “No, Edward, I made even more mistakes than you did.”

  “Is that possible?” marveled Edward.

  “Don’t tempt the fates,” came the sage advice as they moved quickly down the stairs. “They seem to delight in tormenting us.”

  “Let them torture someone else now,” Edward suggested. “I have only two desires. Kill Edmund and convince Celeste I love her.”

  “Killing is usually easier than convincing a woman you truly love her.”

  ​“I was afraid you would say that,” sighed Edward.

  Chuckling, Owain paused on the last step. “Control yourself.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Edward replied.

  The Roots stood before the double doors, Raoul to Anna’s left. To his left were Etienne and Armand. The Shield moved to his wife’s right, gesturing for Edward to stand at his side. George and Eoin were at the doors, hands on the heavy iron rings. For a long moment, no one moved. Anna bowed her head, lips moving silently in prayer. Her right hand reached out to be clasped by her husband’s. Edward could see the fingers of both tighten before they released. The Root squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

  Without a word, the two turned the rings and tugged at the heav
y oak doors to swing them open. Anna took three steps forward and stopped in the center of the archway. The men flanking her did the same as a cheer came from the courtyard.

  Edward thought the heartiest cheers came from the right where the double-roses were. In the center, he could see the York Roses, their families and those who had come to hear an explanation for the disturbance in the Minster the day before. To the left were the Norman and Gascon Roses. The French expressions he could make out were of pride when they looked at Anna and amusement when their gazes went to the English.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Standing at the front of the double-roses, Miles had been nursing injured feelings that Eoin had been elevated to assist the Root. It was Eoin who was sent to bring people to the Root. The Welsh youth who stood with his uncle George outside the Root’s room as she met with people. The previous afternoon, Miles was told to train with the Norman Roses. That morning, Miles had been told to stand with the double-roses in the courtyard. He did as bid, but it stung deep.

  Now, as the Root appeared at the door, pausing, that hurt faded into joy as he cheered with the others. Slim and proud, her black hair loose and dancing lightly in the breeze, the Root of York was clad in black, as armed as the men around her. Her right hand twitched and even as she raised it, the ever-watchful double-roses fell silent. By the time she held it above her head, all were silent. The only sounds were the shuffling of horses and the song of the birds beyond the inner walls.

  “Roses,” Anna called out in a strong voice. “I am Anna Elizabeta de Catalan and Plantagenet. I am the Root of York.”

  The answering cheer was like thunder. She raised two hands for silence.

  “You will have many questions. The first undoubtedly being how did I survive the massacre that claimed nearly every Catalan Rose. I survived simply because I was not there. In the Order of the Rose, there is a challenge that every Thorn must face. A series of tasks that are to be completed. Each branch has a different course. Heirs are allowed to do it when they reach sixteen. Even though I was not quite ten, I begged the Root of Catalan that I might at least try before leaving to journey to England with my parents. The day before the attack, I left the compound with my Protector, Alicia de Gascony.”