Mercy didn’t know. She didn’t know what the bishop did with the children.
“Bishop Devdan rips the children away from their mothers, their families. We never see them again. Something is very wrong with that.” Abbey shook her head. “The knight is already excommunicated. Surely, he would kill a man of the cloth again to save my boy, to save an innocent child.”
Mercy knew what Abbey was going through. She was feeling the same thing. Desperation. She had to save Kit. She had to find a way. They had talked quietly about killing the bishop previously. It was desperation. They would never do it. It was a sin. But could a man who was already guilty of such a crime do it? Still, Mercy was against killing. She was a healer. “The knight cannot even stand. How would he fight the bishop’s men?” There had to be another way. “We can hide Luke.”
“They’ll look for him. And Simon will help. You know he will.”
“We can hide him in the forest. Deep in the forest. No one would find him!”
“Forever?” Abbey shook her head. “No. I would have to leave him alone and I wouldn’t do that.”
“You could hide him in our barn.”
Abbey looked grateful, but she shook her head. “If Simon or the others found out, you would be in trouble. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She tightened her hand around Mercy’s. “Kit’s time is coming, too.”
Mercy’s heart skipped a beat. Yes, they would come for Kit a week after Luke. If they couldn’t save Luke, how could she hope they would save Kit?
Mercy arrived for the meeting the village men held before every child turned five summers. She followed Walter and Abbey inside the inn. It was crowded, every seat taken by a man from the village. She acknowledged Frederick the blacksmith, with a nod, and Roger the farmer. She passed Simon without a glance. Walter led them to three chairs at a table in the back. Bartholomew, the innkeeper, lounged against one of the walls, his face twisted in a grimace.
Mercy and Abbey were the only women in the room, something Mercy had grown used to since Dean had died. Only landowners were allowed in these meetings.
“I will have a full basket of onions to give the bishop,” Roger was saying.
“That’s not going to appease him,” one of the other men said.
“Do you think he wants roots?” Simon demanded with contempt. “He wants the children.”
Mercy had just sat and added, “We should stand against him.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Of course, she would say that!” Simon said pointing to her. “The bishop is taking her boy at the next full moon!”
Mercy ground her teeth. “I said that last month and the month before.”
“How can we stand against the church?” Roger asked from his spot at a table near the doorway.
“He has armed men that do his bidding,” someone added. “I don’t want to end up in the dungeon.”
“I have a family to think about,” another said.
“We’re just villagers, not fighters.”
This was the same meeting they had every time a child turned five. The men made excuses and were as useless as ever. Rage boiled inside of Mercy. She slapped her hands on the table as desperation swelled over her. “He is taking our children! Not our crops, not our land. Our boys!”
Quiet murmuring followed her statement.
“How can you let him do this?”
“How can we stop him?” Roger asked.
Mercy hesitated. She saw the conflict in the men’s eyes. She saw the reluctance. Not only were they incapable of standing up to the bishop, but they didn’t have the means. They could not fight the bishop’s wealth nor the power of his armed men. How could she ask them to? She glanced at Abbey. Tearful fear welled in Abbey’s dark eyes. How could she not ask the men to fight for their children? “We have to do something.”
“We can try to appease him with offerings,” Thomas suggested.
“The children are our offering. We don’t know what he does with them. We don’t know where they go,” Roger said with agony in his voice. “He doesn’t want anything else.”
He had lost a boy six months ago. Given up his baby. He had three other daughters and a wife he had to look after. He justified it as his son’s duty.
“There is something that might appease him,” Walter mumbled.
Mercy looked at him, but he would not meet her eye. He stared down at the wooden table before them, his finger tracing the path of the grain.
“The knight,” Walter announced.
Shock raced through Mercy followed by fear. Why wouldn’t he have asked her first?
“Yes!” Simon agreed.
Mercy swallowed hard. Walter looked at her. She implored him with her eyes, shaking her head just a little.
Everyone looked at Mercy. They all knew she had him.
Agony twisted her heart. No. She needed him. He was her only hope to save Kit. He just needed time to heal. “How do we know the bishop won’t still take Luke? And Kit? How do we know that giving up the knight will be the end of it?”
“We don’t. But we have no other option,” Simon grumbled.
“We can stand up to him! Tell him no. As a village. Together. He can’t have our children!”
“It’s easy for you to say! Your boy is almost five summers!”
The room exploded in protests and arguments.
“We can’t stand against the bishop! He is the church!”
“Think of God’s wrath!”
“I have a family!”
She watched the exchange, as if from afar. Arguing, shouting. She would not give Eoos up. “He escaped,” she whispered.
The room quieted. Walter looked at her. Abbey stared at her, mouth agape.
“What did you say?” Simon demanded.
“He escaped,” she said in a louder voice. “The night Walter brought him to my barn. You had beaten him so badly I didn’t think he could move. I didn’t bind him. I didn’t think he would have the strength to leave. When I checked in the morning, he was gone.”
“We should look for him,” Thomas said. “If we can find him soon, perhaps we could exchange him for Luke.”
Abbey scowled fiercely at Mercy.
Mercy retook her seat, quietly.
“Bart,” Simon called. “You were the one to recognize him. Tell them what the knight looks like so we can go after him.”
Bartholomew rubbed his stomach. “He is tall, taller than anyone in this room. He has long brown hair, a beard, and icy blue eyes. He can wield a sword savagely.”
“That’s the man we fought in the inn,” Simon nodded in recollection. “Remember how he fought back? Remember it took all of us to overpower him?”
Mercy locked eyes with Abbey. She couldn’t give him up. He would help them, he must! She had already disguised him so the village men wouldn’t find him. She wanted to run home to make sure he was safe. But she knew if she left now, it would be as good as admitting guilt.
“He is called the brute because he is,” Bartholomew continued. “He takes what he wants because he can. He doesn’t care for or have any compassion for anyone but himself.”
She scowled in confusion. “That’s not what I saw when I found you attacking him. You had him on the floor, beating him. He wasn’t fighting back,” Mercy said. She looked at Bartholomew. Maybe they had the wrong man. “Are you sure the man you beat that night was the brute?”
Bart nodded. “I saw him once when I was in Essex. I know him.”
“We need to find him,” Simon grumbled. “Beaten like that, he couldn’t have gotten far.”
Bart agreed with a nod. “He is a danger to the village. We should tell the bishop what happened.”
“It doesn’t matter now. He’s gone.”
“It might bring more of the bishop’s wrath down on the village if he knew we had the brute and he got away,” Thomas commented.
“But we should warn the bishop,” someone said.
“Pah. The bishop is well protected. The village is no
t. I think –”
The conversation faded into the background as Mercy thought of Eoos, the brute. He was no danger to them. She had to convince him to help them. Somehow. She swiveled her stare to Abbey. Abbey stared hard at her. There was a scowl of displeasure and disagreement on her brow.
“We’ll search for the knight,” Simon said. “We have a day to find him. If we do, we can exchange him for Luke.”
“It won’t work,” Mercy whispered. But no one heard her.
The men began making plans to search for a man that was hidden in Mercy’s barn. For a man too weak to fight back. They didn’t even know if giving him to the bishop in exchange for Luke would work!
She looked at Abbey. She was visibly shaking. Hot, angry desperation filled her; she was slowly shaking her head.
As the meeting ended, the men stood and filed toward the exit, nodding in approval and satisfaction at their plan. Simon crossed through the men to stop before Abbey.
“We’ll find that knight and save your boy,” he said.
Mercy cast a glance at Abbey. The bishop was coming to take Luke in one day. One day. She wasn’t certain that Abbey had the strength to stand up to the bishop. She didn’t have confidence in their plan. They needed more.
Chapter Five
The next day, Mercy made her rounds. The blacksmith seemed to be healing nicely, and she gave the wife of Daniel the farmer, who was sick with stomach pains, some wormwood and mint to mix in her food.
On her way back home, her mind wandered to Eoos. She had to protect him so he could recover. And, in return, she hoped he could help them with the bishop. She was hoping he could fight off the bishop’s men and save the children. But she knew this wouldn’t be enough. The bishop would bring more men. Eoos would be taken as well as Kit. Hopeless despair swirled inside her. Her mind continued to return to the fact that he had killed the Archbishop. Would asking him to kill Bishop Devdan be enough to solve the problem? To save the children?
As she continued home, lost in thought, it took a moment for her to realize someone was calling her. She turned and saw Walter approaching her. He kicked up little puffs of dirt as he hurried toward her. Mercy smiled in greeting but saw the seriousness etched in his brow. “Is everyone alright?”
He grabbed her arm. “Simon is furious you didn’t accept Lief’s proposal.”
Mercy grimaced and opened her mouth to respond.
Walter continued, “He is going to search your home for the knight. He is riding to your place now.”
Tingles of trepidation danced along her spine. He had not finished the words when Mercy spun and raced for home. Her heart pounded as her feet stomped the dirt in her hurry. She cut through Daniel’s wheat field. The branch from a weed snagged her dress. She reached down to rip it away when its sharp tip tore her skirt. She barely stopped.
He couldn’t take Eoos! Her mind continued to repeat no, no, no. Over and over. As she rounded a copse of trees separating Daniel’s field from her land, her cottage came into view. It looked so peaceful, as if it were just another day.
Then, she heard Kit’s cry.
Her heart lurched and she forced herself to go faster. If Simon hurt Kit, if he touched him…
She hurried forward, rounding the cottage. Kit was on the ground near the barn, holding his cheek and looking up at Simon.
Rage filled Mercy, but before she could act, the door to the barn swung open and Eoos exploded from within like a dark storm cloud. He lifted his fist and delivered a solid blow to Simon’s jaw.
A strangled sound issued from her lips as she ran across the road and threw herself over Kit to protect him, her eyes sweeping her child for injury. His cheek was red, but it seemed to be his only injury.
She locked eyes with Simon who was in the dirt just feet from them. His eyes were wide in disbelief as they swiveled to Eoos towering above him.
“If you feel the need to hit a child again, seek me out first,” Eoos snarled between clenched teeth.
Mercy shot to her feet, laying a hand on his shirtless arm. Eoos looked at her, and when their gazes met, she saw the reined fury snapping in his blue eyes. Then, she spun on Simon. “How dare you strike my son?” she demanded of Simon. “I will take this up with the magistrate.”
Simon climbed to his feet, a head shorter than Eoos. He stared at Eoos, his lips twitching in hatred. “Who is this?”
The words came naturally to Mercy. “This is my cousin, Eoos. He’s come to offer me and Kit the protection you said we need.”
Simon narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “He looks like that knight.”
“He looks nothing like that knight!” She glanced at Eoos and was glad he had shaved his beard. She looked back at Simon. “I’m telling you, this isn’t the knight.” She was furious. Furious that Simon had struck Kit. Furious that she didn’t realize the threat Simon presented. “I already told you the knight escaped.” Beside her, she felt Eoos’s fist clench. She squeezed his arm in a warning to stay silent. “Would you tell the bishop that? Would you tell him how you let the knight escape?”
Simon seemed to think about this. He spit on the ground. “An excommunicated knight. We should have killed him when we had the chance.”
“Murder is a sin.”
Simon looked at Eoos carefully, his eyes narrowed again. “He has the same marks as a man who was in a fight at the inn would have.”
“Aye,” Mercy said. “They are bruises one gets in a common fight. Some brigands came last night. He fought them off.”
Simon’s eyes narrowed further in doubt.
“Just like you said they would. We were lucky Eoos was here.”
Simon grimaced. He looked at Mercy. “You should have married Lief.” He began to back away.
Mercy felt a swirling of dread and relief. She had lied to Simon to protect Eoos. And she would do it again to save him. She released his arm and stepped after Simon. “You are not welcomed here, Simon.”
“I never was.”
Eoos stepped past her.
Simon quickened his pace down the road and off her lands.
Mercy dropped to her knees at Kit’s side. She took his face in her hands, examining his cheek. A hot red handprint was appearing on his tender skin. “Are you alright?”
Kit wrapped his arms about her, and she hugged him fiercely.
“What were you doing?” Mercy whispered to him. “Why did he hit you?”
“I was telling him to stay away from our barn,” Kit said, pressing his face into her shoulder. “That he couldn’t go in. He didn’t like that.”
Mercy squeezed Kit tightly. She picked Kit up and turned to Eoos. In the light of day, he looked worse. His eye was swollen closed and turning colors, his lip puffed up. His cheek was swollen. And still, he had protected her son. Overwhelming gratitude consumed her. “Thank you.”
He nodded his head before wincing and grasping his stomach.
“You shouldn’t be on your feet,” Mercy advised.
“I thought it was the right thing to do.”
Her heart melted. She was so grateful to him. “It was,” she whispered, stroking Kit’s head.
He nodded. “Am I truly your cousin?”
She smiled. “No. I made that up so he wouldn’t recognize you from the inn.”
“Then I am the knight who was excommunicated.”
She froze. She should tell him the truth. She should tell him what he had done.
Kit looked at her. “You lied?”
She was lying about a good many things. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit. She considered Richard to be dishonorable, yet she was the one telling shameful lies. “I did it to protect Eoos.”
Kit rubbed his cheek. “At least your lie didn’t hurt as much as Simon’s hit.”
It could hurt worse, she knew, if the bishop found out. She kissed his cheek and began to carry Kit across the yard to the cottage. She was so thankful Eoos was there to protect Kit. She paused and turned back to Eoos. “Come inside. Warm yourself by the fire.”
Eoos paused and glanced at the barn. Then, he nodded and followed her.
Eoos ducked his head beneath the door frame as he swiped aside the cloth acting as a door and entered. He didn’t like that this thin fabric was the only thing separating Mercy and her son from the outside. His gaze swept the room.
Near the far wall, a fire burned in the hearth and a pot hung over it. A chicken raced across his feet, flapping its wings. Tucked into a corner of the room was a straw mattress big enough for Mercy and her boy. There was a table and two chairs near the hearth, and a thin elderly woman sat in one of them. When she saw them, she stood anxiously. “What happened?”
Mercy put Kit down and the boy raced after the chicken. “Simon wanted to have words with Eoos.”
The elderly woman’s eyes slid to Eoos, and a look of terror crossed her face.
Mercy lay a hand on her wrist. “Eoos protected Kit.”
The woman’s gaze slid to the boy. “Is he alright? What did Simon do?”
“He’ll be fine. Thanks to Eoos.” Both women turned and looked at him.
Eoos felt a rush of warmth move up his face. “It was nothing,” he stated, but he was happy to help Mercy. His stare shifted to her and their gazes locked. Something protective and appreciative bubbled inside him.
Kit paused with the chicken in his arms and elaborated. “He punched Simon in the face! One punch knocked Simon to the ground.”
Mercy nodded at the woman’s shocked expression.
“Do you think that made matters worse?” the woman asked.
“He has no right to strike a child,” Eoos defended.
Again, both women looked at him.
Eoos lifted his chin stubbornly.
Mercy looked at the woman again. “I told him Eoos was my cousin.”
The woman’s eyebrows shot up and her gaze locked on Eoos. “I’ll tell Walter.”
“I would like to know why I was excommunicated,” Eoos stated.
Time seemed to stop. The two women froze for a long moment, saying nothing but staring at him. Then they looked at each other. He was certain they knew something. And then, the moment passed.
A Knight With Mercy - an Assassin Knights novel Page 4