Justice of the Root

by Abby Gordon

  “Root Anna, I pledge myself to you and the Order of the Rose. I swear to live a good and honorable life as befits a Rose of England and Wales. To serve you and the Crown and to do naught that would bring dishonor upon you, the Order or the realm.”

  “Lady Mary, I accept your pledge. I swear to ask nothing of you that would besmirch your honor. If our enemies attack you, I shall avenge and give you Justice.” Bending forward, Anna affixed the pin of the double-rose at her collar. “Rise and join the double-roses, Mary.”

  Rising, Mary saluted with her right fist and went to stand by the Earl of Leicester.

  The four Elders were dragged into a line three paces before her and forced to kneel. Realizing what was about to happen, the noise of the crowd grew like a wind. Anna waited until silence fell upon the courtyard.

  “For your crimes of murder against the sons of the Root of York, my uncles, I judge you guilty and condemned. For your crimes of murder against the Root of York, my grandfather, I judge you guilty and condemned. For your crimes of patricide, I judge you guilty and condemned. For your betrayal against the Root of York, my mother, I judge you guilty and condemned. For your betrayal against the Root of Catalan, my grandfather, and the Roses of Catalan, I judge you guilty and condemned. Thomas and Charles Black.” Those two men glared at her. “For your rapes of Marianna and Maria de Catalan de la Rosa and the murder of Maria, I judge you guilty and condemned. William Talbor, for your conspiracy proven by your hand of the deaths of the family of Sir Godfrey and the wife of Sir Jasper, I judge you guilty and condemned. John Gray, for your leadership and direction in all these sins, crimes and betrayals, I judge you guilty and condemned.”

  Even the wind stilled at her pause.

  “For your betrayal against the Order of the Rose, I judge you guilty and condemned. Root of Normandy and Heirs of Normandy and Gascony, what say you?”

  “Guilty and condemned,” thundered the three men.

  Edward wondered the ground didn’t shake at the fury in their voices. A metallic whisper rang out and she raised her blade in her right hand.

  “Will you join me in rendering Justice of the Root?” Anna asked, lowering her arm.

  In response, the three drew their blades. With a nod, she started down the steps, the men following her. Etienne went to Charles Black and Armand to Thomas. As the Roots and Heirs approached, the Double Roses grabbed their hair to force their heads back and exposing their throats.

  “One lived,” croaked Thomas. “I can tell you—"

  “We know all,” Etienne told him. “She was my wife.”

  ​Even from across the courtyard, Edward saw the four faces at the words - shock and fear. All four former Elders jerked about in the grips of the men who held them.

  “You have no right,” Talbor shouted.

  “Only the Queen can condemn traitors,” insisted Gray who knelt before Anna. “I demand to be seen by the Queen or the Earl,” he sent a pleading glance to the impassive Earl of Leicester who merely raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re not being executed for treason,” she reminded him. “This is Order business. This is the Justice of the Root.”

  Armand raised his blade. “For Maria.”

  Etienne raised his blade. “For Marianna.”

  Raoul raised his blade. “For Catalan.”

  Anna raised her blade. “For York.”

  A heartbeat.

  “For the Rose,” all four stated, their blades slashing silver in the cloudy autumn morning.

  The Roots and Heirs stepped back as blood gushed out. The Double-Roses released the bodies to fall to the ground. To his left, Edward heard moans and darted a glance to see how Celeste fared. John stood between her and Joan, who had buried her face against his shoulder. The older siblings stared straight ahead. Next to them, Anelle Black looked as if she was sleep-walking. Ellie Gray was pale as she held the hands of her weeping children. My father is dead and I cannot weep. I feel nothing. Not even loss as I missed my mother and siblings.

  The Heirs returned to the steps as the Double-Roses dragged the bodies to the side. In the stillness that followed, the two Roots turned and walked as stately as if approaching the throne to the bottom of the steps. Edward could see the darker splotches of wet blood on their clothes. Specks of red splattered their faces, yet none seemed to notice.

  The Roots made a stately turned and gazed out at the crowd.

  “Edmund Richland,” Anna began. “You are charged with rape and licentious acts towards unwilling maids. Maids who were given no aid or comfort by their masters. Or their fathers,” she gestured.

  The guards hauled him to his feet. Muffled sounds came from him, his shoulders twitching about.

  “You would deny those claims?” Anna asked.

  He nodded his head vigorously.

  “Granted, five of your victims in York have died either from your acts or from misplaced shame rendered unto them by the people of York,” Anna stated in an accusing tone.

  Many in the crowd ducked their heads and shuffled their feet.

  “However, one brave maid found me yesterday and gave me her testimony.”

  From among the Gascon Roses, Meggie appeared. Edward could see the fury in the man he had briefly thought was his brother. Beside her stood a man who glared back at Edmund.

  “Meggie is now under the protection of the brother of my Protector,” Anna proclaimed. “A man worthy of her courage and strength, Phillipe de Gascony.”

  He bowed his head in acknowledgment then stepped forward.

  “Root Anna, I request the right of Justice,” he spoke in English. “For this man’s crimes against Meggie, her sister Julia and the other women.”

  “Are there any others who would request that right?” Anna called out.

  Several men and older youths stepped forward, hands raised, shouting for the privilege.

  “Now I see,” Edward murmured.

  “Good,” Owain grunted.

  Anna let the calls increase then raised her hand. Silence finally fell.

  “Roses, people of York, I understand and appreciate your demand for justice. Phillipe, I am not your Root, but will you accept my decision?”

  “Absolutement, madame,” he replied without hesitation, bowing his head slightly.

  “Merci,” Anna nodded. “There is one here who had the right for justice yesterday but stayed his hand by my order. Who has a greater claim than all but Phillipe for justice.” Anna took three steps closer to Edmund and gestured to the guard who removed his gag. “You would have taken his wife when she was not yours to take.”

  From the corner of his eye, Edward saw Celeste’s head whip around. Her frightened wide eyes finding him on the steps as her mouth moved in silent protest or prayer he could not tell.

  “Edward Talbor,” Anna called.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Finally!

  “Aye, Root Anna,” he responded, stepping around Owain and down the stone treads.

  “I give you the right of justice on Edmund Richland. Phillipe de Gascony will be your second.”

  “As you wish, my Lady Root,” Edward bowed.

  Phillipe stepped forward and bowed. “Merci, madame.”

  Some instinct, perhaps the new emphasis on courtesy, made Edward turn to the Gascon. “While I do not intend to fail, it is good to know your sword backs mine,” he stated.

  “Always, mon ami,” the Frenchman replied with a smile and nod. “As much as I would like him dead at our feet with swiftness, given what he has done to our women and those of York, perhaps he should suffer. And be humiliated.”

  Edward grinned. “Indeed.”

  Drawing his sword, he faced Anna and saluted her by bringing his sword up before him.

  “Root Anna.”

  Approval gleamed briefly in the pale blue eyes before she nodded.

  “Better,” she murmured, passing him on her way to rejoin the others on the stone steps.

  The guards untied Edmund, then handed him a sword. Shoulders
hunched, the man glanced around as if expecting a blow to come from behind him. Edward laughed.

  “No one here will come at you from behind nor will any help you,” he taunted. “There is honor again in York.”

  Snarling, Edmund shifted his grip on the hilt. “You’ll need someone to back you up besides some foreigner,” came the jeer with a jerk of his chin in Phillipe’s direction.

  “I think you’ll want to face me instead of him,” Edward answered. “Your cousin killed his sister.”

  “What?” Edmund appeared startled.

  “Perhaps you weren’t listening to the Root,” Edward chided. “Perhaps you’ll die the same way he did. Minus the coup d’grace that Lady Anna gave him. I don’t think Sir Phillipe and I will feel that charitable.”

  “Do you intend to talk me to death?” sneered Edmund.

  “Not in the slightest,” replied Edward, more than ready to get down to the business at hand.

  As he’d expected, Edmund lunged first. Remembering Jasper’s counsel, Edward moved to the right, letting the blades cross. With a quick spin, he had his sword free and was behind the man. With a vicious grin, he whacked Edmund on the ass. As twitters of laughter came from the crowd, Edmund whirled and charged.

  Clinging to John’s hand, Celeste listened with growing horror. When Edward stepped forward after Lady Anna named her as his wife, she weaved on her feet. John bent his head toward her.

  “Stand up,” he hissed. “He doesn’t need a distraction now.”

  “But Edmund beat him the last time,” she whimpered, fingers clutching at his jacket sleeve.

  “Last time, there were four men,” John countered. “And Edward nearly won. Hush now.”

  As much as his order as the clang of swords, Celeste ceased and turned her head. Watching, praying, Celeste considered Edward’s actions. Could he love me? Even after what he said that day? After what he did yesterday? There had to be some reasoning for his actions. The Root wasn’t at all pleased with him.

  Glancing to her right, Celeste saw Lady Anna standing calmly next to the Lord Raoul. The clanging of swords was fast and furious and Celeste craned her neck to see the fight. The crowd had retreated to the walls and buildings, with some climbing on roofs and the inner walls. Edmund was snarling, swearing as he swung his borrowed blade. Edward was quiet, his expression icy as he countered his opponent.

  Knowing it didn’t matter if he loved her or not, or had and stopped, Celeste knew she had to be with him. He’d claimed her in public and now she would claim him in return. Picking up her skirts slightly, she went forward, eyes on Edward, stopping only when she reached the Gascon who was his second.

  “You think to fight as well?” he asked with a smile.

  “He is my husband,” she stated in a clear voice that many around them could hear. “I will stand with him.”

  “Bon,” he nodded, bending and pulling a short dagger from his boot. “Do you know how to use it?”

  “Sir Godfrey taught me a little when I was a girl. I still practice in my room.”

  With a nod, he handed her the blade. Taking it, Celeste nodded her thanks, her gaze returning to the fight. When Edmund launched a flurry of blows that drove Edward back towards them, she never thought of retreating. Let him come. I’m not defenseless like the other women were.

  Gripping the hilt, she waited next to Phillipe as the men came closer. From the corner of her eye, she saw the Root and Shield of York turn with the Root of Normandy to follow the combatants. Sparing a glance at the other woman, Celeste saw her nod and smile of approval. Reassured, Celeste faced the men.

  Edmund saw her first. Eyes widening, he howled with laughter.

  “She thinks to stand by your second. You have a woman wanting to fight with you. A woman,” he sneered.

  “That woman is my wife,” Edward reminded him, not even glancing around to see if he’d been told the truth. “She watches my back as the Root did the Shield in the battle before the Queen.”

  Edmund shifted to his right and Edward moved slightly and could see her. Celeste saw the flare of hope in his expression before Edmund swung. Edward brought his sword up to block it. With a hand, Celeste smothered her gasp.

  “You might call her ‘wife’, but she will be mine,” snarled Edmund.

  “I’d rather die at my own hand,” Celeste declared. “Or be hung for killing you.”

  Edmund’s head swung around and as Edward shoved him away, the bastard lunged at Celeste. Even as Phillipe and Jasper drew their swords, Celeste went forward, ducking under and left of the sword. Swinging her right arm forward, she slashed the borrowed blade across his stomach. Dropping into a roll, she came up on her hands and knees, then scrambled to her feet.

  Edward was at her side, left hand reaching to pull her up as his right kept his sword aimed at Edmund.

  “You bitch,” growled the wounded man as he weaved on his feet. “You mealy-mouthed, fool of a woman.” His gaze went to Edward. “There is no honor in battle for this.”

  “Considering how you treated Meggie, what you did to Julia, this is true Justice,” Edward stated, fingers tightening on Celeste’s hand. “You should die by a woman’s hands, Scion. And all women in York and everywhere else you’ve been will rejoice.”

  Edmund stumbled sideways as Meggie appeared at Phillipe’s side. A dagger was in her right hand as she touched the Gascon’s forearm.

  “It is for your Root to decide, ma petite,” he told her gently.

  “Lady Anna?” Meggie called out as Edmund fell to his knees, the sword clattering on the edge of the cobblestones.

  “Edward is generous and quite right,” Anna answered. “For women of York, for the Root of York, and the Queen of England, it is fitting that this Scion should die at a woman’s hands. How that death is achieved is between those he harmed here.” Her voice rang out. “Are there any others?”

  A youth stepped forward, shaking off the hand of the old man next to him. “He raped my sister. No man in York had courage to challenge him. If Meggie and Celeste want it, I say they should have it.”

  “You shame the family,” the old man hissed.

  “No,” he protested, backing away from the cluster. “You shamed Tess by not defending her. By watching as the bastard took her. By rejecting her and not burying her when she died.” He spun back to meet Meggie’s gaze. “You survived. If the Root permits it, let Justice be yours.”

  “What?” Edmund gasped, now trying to stop the blood from his belly with both hands. “Is there no man here who understands? If you let this happen, none of you are safe. Your women will not see you as their masters.”

  “I’ve had about all I can handle from you,” Anna decided, striding toward the group. Her bootheels thudded on the stones. “Celeste, take his right arm,” she instructed as she grabbed the left.

  Grinning with the same ferocity she saw on the Root’s face, Celeste leapt forward and grabbed the arm.

  Edward wasted no time to do his part. Sheathing his sword, he went behind the man and gripped his hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat.

  “Meggie,” he stated. “It is for you.”

  He was a bit startled when the girl glanced at her new husband for reassurance.

  “It will help you,” Phillipe told her. “To know he is in hell. To know he cannot hurt you or any other again. For you. For all he harmed. For those who could not fight him.”

  The courage shone in Meggie’s eyes and she stepped forward. Raising the blade, she stopped before the man.

  “You are Scion. You seduced and killed my sister,” she snarled at him. “For the Rose! For England and for the Queen!”

  Her blade swung down and across the flesh as her words were echoed by every Rose.

  “For the Rose! For England! For the Queen!”

  Stepping back, Meggie felt Phillipe’s hands on her shoulders, both showing his support of her and holding her upright. Her gaze went to the Root’s and was awed by the fierceness in her approval. Then to Celeste,
still amazed that her cousin had struck the blow. Celeste didn’t smile but nodded as she released Edmund’s arm and stepped back. The Root did the same and the body fell forward as Edward let go of his hair.

  “Well done, Meggie and Celeste,” the Root said quietly. “Your husbands may need to ban knives from your bedchambers, but we will be good company as mine already tried to do the same.” A smile played about her lips. “Celeste, you have been through much in the past. What do you want in the future?”

  The future? Everything I thought I wanted has been taken from me. My home, my family. Meggie will leave soon, and I will never see her. I know not what will happen to John or Joan. Or if Edward loves me truly.

  “Lady Anna,” she whispered. “I dare not want a future. The past has made me uncertain of everything.”

  “Sir Edward?” The Root glanced at him. “Have you anything to say to her?”

  Edward stood before her, taking her face in his hands. “While I was in the cell my father and pretended brother put me in, I dreamt of you. Of somehow escaping their shackles and finding you. Telling you that nothing else mattered as long as we were together. Telling you that I loved you and we would flee to Wales or Ireland. That somehow, we would find our own life. Together.”

  Tears filled her eyes at his touch, and as he spoke. “Say that again,” she begged. “Before Wales and Ireland.”

  “Oh, my sweet wife,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  Her hands slid up his chest and behind his neck. “About time,” she sighed, kissing him.

  “Finally,” sighed the Root. “You two I didn’t know what to do with,” she said as they turned their heads. “If only the rest of restoring the Roses of England and Wales could work out so well.”

  Sliding an arm around her waist, Edward smiled. “Root Anna, I can help with a bit of that. If Sir Godfrey, Sir Jasper and Geoffrey are willing to help me.”

  “In the Root’s cause,” Sir Godfrey answered.

  “Boys?” he glanced around the yard. “Those I’ve been training these past months? Will you stand up for your Root? And be good and faithful Roses to her?”

  Promptly Matthew and his younger brother Micah stepped forward, with the other six falling in behind them as they crossed the yard. The Shield came to stand by the Root, eyeing the boys as if they would harm her.