A Knight With Mercy - an Assassin Knights novel

by O’Donnell, Laurel

  Despair set over Mercy. How were they going to find Kit here? They should go directly to the cathedral.

  As they neared the town, calls of merchants reached her. “Get your bread here before the sun sets!”

  “Candles!”

  “Thief! Someone stop him!”

  Mercy saw a small boy running from an apple merchant who waved a stick above his head. The child raced across the road and toward another shop. She grinned, hoping the boy got away.

  A boy! This town had children. Why was the bishop preying on her village? She watched where the boy disappeared between two buildings before turning her horse toward the merchant. She dug in her pouch and produced a coin.

  The merchant’s eyes glittered at the sight. “A fresh apple today?”

  Mercy shook her head and pointed after the child. “That boy.”

  His demeanor changed instantly. His shoulders slumped, his face became hard, and his teeth clenched. He grumbled, “You know him?”

  She shook her head. “Do you?”

  “Pah. No. He makes trouble. That’s all I know. Always trying to steal my apples. He’s a homeless curmudgeon.”

  Mercy considered his words. Homeless. “Do you know where he rests for the night?”

  “If I did I would find him and have his hand cut off for the apples he steals.”

  Mercy sighed, rubbing the coin between her fingers thoughtfully.

  His eyes focused on the coin in her hand, greedily. “If I had to guess, I would say he lives somewhere on the north side of town. Probably gets food from the church. And my apples.”

  Content with the answer, Mercy tossed the coin to him. “Next time he comes by, give him an apple. Free of charge.”

  He caught the coin. “Yes. Of course. Of course.”

  Mercy steered her horse across the road, back to Richard’s side, her gaze fixed on the road to the north.

  Richard shook his head in displeasure. “I said to do everything I tell you.”

  She looked at him. “You didn’t tell me to do anything.”

  His gaze bore into hers in warning.

  She ignored the warning and jerked on the reins of her horse. “This way.” She led the way north, following the road toward the roof with a cross on it. The sun was beginning to set, and the merchants were closing up their wagons and doors.

  Richard moved his horse before hers, cutting off her progression. “We must find a place to rest.”

  She looked around his broad shoulders at the cross. “What better place than the church?”

  A church.

  Richard did not like her idea of hiding right beneath the bishop’s nose. It was risky and dangerous. A church of all places! But he admitted to himself that they needed to rest and they could do that at the church. Perhaps the priest would have information about the boys. It was a place to start. A good place, he had to grudgingly admit.

  Mercy led the way into the church. Wooden pews stretched to the front of the aisle where a table and podium stood. Behind which was a beautiful arched window that took up most of the far wall.

  Tingles danced across Richard’s neck. He stopped walking. He shouldn’t be here.

  Mercy continued on toward the front. She stopped at the first pew and genuflected.

  Richard glanced around at the wooden beams far above his head and at the colorful pictures of saints on the tapestries against the side wall. It was not as big or as elaborate as Canterbury Cathedral, but it was still a holy place of worship. He didn’t feel comfortable.

  “Can I help you?”

  Richard and Mercy turned to find a man dressed in a brown robe approaching down the aisle.

  “We were hoping that you could supply a couple of travelers a warm meal,” Richard said.

  The priest’s brown hair was peppered with strands of grey. “Of course,” he agreed, clasping his hand together before him. “I have ale and…” His brow furrowed as his eyes alighted on Mercy. “Mercy?”

  Mercy’s mouth dropped open. “Father Stephen.”

  Richard tensed. Already someone recognized her! His knees bent slightly in preparation to seize Mercy and flee.

  Mercy rushed by Richard and embraced the priest.

  Surprised, Richard stared at the warm reunion. The tension slowly left his body and confusion washed over him. Should he run? Would this turn out bad for him?

  Mercy pulled back. “I forgot you came to Dunford.”

  “It’s good to see you,” Father Stephen said. He glanced at Richard. “I hadn’t heard you re-married.”

  “No,” Richard and Mercy protested together.

  “I am escorting her on her journey,” Richard clarified, glancing at Mercy. It was the truth.

  “Please don’t ask any further questions, Father,” Mercy pleaded.

  Father Stephen stared at her for a long moment before giving her a nod and a warm grin. “You are both welcome here. I’ve known Mercy for a long time, and I trust her.” He looked at Richard.

  Richard drew himself up. He didn’t know the Father, and while it was obvious Mercy trusted him, Richard did not. He wasn’t sure whether to tell him the truth of who he was, or lie.

  Mercy hooked her arm through his. “This is Richard.”

  Her touch surprised him and sent an instant jolt through his body. Even though he was angry with her, his heart quickened at her touch.

  Father Stephen nodded.

  “One more thing,” Mercy said as they walked toward the back door. “No one must know we are here.”

  Father Stephen smiled. “Of course not.”

  The cloister was a separate building near the church. It housed Father Stephen and visiting dignitaries. Luckily, there was only Father Stephen there at the moment. Mercy and Richard were given separate rooms and a warm meal. After they retired for the evening, Mercy lay on the straw mattress, staring into the darkness. It was the first time that day she was alone. Immediately, guilt settled around her like a rough blanket. She could not rest until Kit was with her, until she found him. She pushed back her fears to concentrate on what to do next. But the only thing she could think of in the dark was Kit. Where was he? What was he doing? What were they doing to him?

  Frustrated and scared, she sat up as dark images danced in her mind. She had to find him! She couldn’t wait here, sleeping, relaxing. Her son was in danger! She threw the blanket aside and stood. She paced, clenching and unclenching her hands. Despair rose inside her. She had failed him. She hadn’t been able to protect him anymore than Abbey had her son. She clenched her teeth against the rush of uselessness that crested inside her.

  With a soft cry, she rushed from the room into the corridor. Darkness. Disorientation. She walked down the hallway, down the stairs to the room they had eaten in. The small hearth still gave off warmth. She sat in a chair before it and stared into the dying flames. Was she selfish for wanting her son to stay with her? Would she be punished in the afterlife? She didn’t care. The only thing she cared about was Kit. She couldn’t help thinking that if the bishop was truly doing God’s work with the children, why couldn’t they see them or know where they were? Why did he keep it a secret? Why did he take them?

  She and Kit had never been apart since the day he was born. Was he crying? Was he needing her? Mercy put her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob.

  “Mercy?”

  She whirled to find a shadow in the doorway. The red flickering light of the fire washed over Richard, giving him a rosy glow.

  “Why are you not sleeping?”

  “I can’t sleep.” She turned back to the fire.

  Richard pulled up a chair beside her. “You should really try. You will need your strength.”

  “What are you doing up?”

  “I heard you.”

  She looked at him. The firelight touched his cheeks and she remembered the fever he had endured the first night she had seen him. He looked so much better. The swelling was almost completely gone from his eye. It was as though her Eoos was gone and in his place w
as this stranger she didn’t know. She needed Eoos. She wondered if he had risen with the intent to leave. She looked back at the fire. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “Sit beside you?”

  “Look for Kit.”

  “No. I don’t. But I am.”

  “Why?”

  He gazed into the fire thoughtfully. “I like Kit. It troubles me that he might be in danger.”

  Mercy felt a wave of terror rise inside her. “What kind of danger?” Her voice trembled.

  “Mercy,” Richard called. When she didn’t look at him, he took her hands into his. “Kit is a smart boy. I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “He’s not. They took him from his home. They stole him from his family. He’s frightened and I can’t reach him. I can’t find him.”

  Richard squeezed her hands. “We will find him.” He reached back and pulled a cloak from a chair. He draped it around her shoulders. “Here.” He pulled her chair closer to his and gently gathered her against him. “Close your eyes and rest.”

  She resisted for a moment, but she was exhausted, mentally and physically. She lay her head against his shoulder.

  He stroked her arm.

  His embrace eased her fears and she felt safe. “I would never have given you to the bishop.”

  Richard grinned against the top of her head. “You would have. And I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you. I should have told you the truth. Told you what I knew about what you had done.”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. I still would have helped you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were kind to me. Not many are.”

  “I put my needs above yours. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Richard squeezed her tightly. “I know why you did it. For Kit. I understand. And I was angry, but I don’t fault you. Not at all.”

  She looked up at him. “Are you still angry?”

  “How can I still be angry with you?” He brushed a lock of her hair from her cheek.

  The brush of his fingers sent shivers through her body. She sighed against him, her head and body nestling closer to his. “It doesn’t matter. None of it does. You were my salvation from the moment I saw you at the inn. You were the only one who would help. Then and now.” Her eyes began to close. The fire in the hearth blinking in and out of her sight.

  Richard’s chuckle sounded low in her ears. “You are the only one to see me in that light.”

  “That’s because they are all fools,” she whispered, and fell into an exhausted slumber.

  The sound of crashing metal jarred Mercy awake.

  Standing frozen near the hearth was a small, thin boy. His eyes were wide as they locked with hers. His brown hair hung over his eyes.

  It took a moment for Mercy’s sleep-filled mind to recognize the boy as the child stealing an apple in the market the prior day. Just as she remembered him, the boy bolted, running for the door.

  “Wait!” Mercy cried. “Wait! Please! I won’t hurt you!”

  The boy didn’t stop and dashed directly into a large form that suddenly appeared in the doorway. Richard caught the boy by the arm. The boy reacted instinctively, kicking and squirming to escape.

  “Did he harm you?” Richard demanded of Mercy.

  Mercy shook her head and quickly rushed to the boy. “We won’t harm you.”

  “What do ya want?” the child growled, looking at her suspiciously.

  Mercy glanced at Richard and then back at the boy. He had fight in his brown eyes. “How was your apple?”

  “Are ya goin’ ta hand me over to that fat merchant? One or two apples ain’t gonna harm anyone. I was just hungry!” He tugged at his arm, but Richard held him still.

  “I know,” Mercy said softly. “Please. I have just one question for you.”

  The boy’s eyes narrowed distrustfully.

  “Bishop Devdan.”

  At the bishop’s name, the boy’s eyes grew large. He began to pull savagely at his arm again. “Let me go!”

  “He lives on his lands in a castle, near the cathedral.”

  “So what?” the boy snapped. “I never saw ‘im. Let me go!”

  His reaction was so intense and severe that Mercy knew the boy knew the bishop. “Have you been to the cathedral? Are there boys there?”

  The boy scowled fiercely. He still pulled at his arm, trying to break free of Richard’s hold. “I don’t know nothin’.”

  “Don’t lie, boy,” Richard warned.

  “I ain’t no liar!” he proclaimed.

  “Have you ever been to the cathedral?” Mercy asked, trying to squash the desperation she felt growing in her breast.

  “No,” he snapped, pouting and eyeing Richard with animosity.

  He was obviously scared and dishonest. “Have you seen any boys at the cathedral?”

  “No. There are no boys there. Only those monks.”

  “How do you know if you’ve never been to the cathedral?” Richard demanded. “Looks like you are being untruthful.”

  The boy’s lip curled in disdain.

  Mercy took a deep breath. She held up her hand to Richard in a plea for lenience. She knelt before the boy. “Please. The bishop took my son. I’m looking for him.”

  The boy scowled.

  “Let the child go.” The voice ordered from down the corridor.

  Mercy lifted her gaze to see Father Stephen approaching. Richard held the boy’s arm for a second longer before releasing him. The child raced to Father Stephen who laid a calming hand on his head.

  “I think there are some peas growing on the vines in the back. Go and pick some. And bring some to the others.”

  The boy nodded, cast a glance back at Mercy and Richard, and then ran away down the corridor.

  Mercy wanted to run after him. She was certain he knew more than he was saying. But at Father Stephen’s disapproving frown, she stayed where she was and try to make amends. “We weren’t going to hurt him. We’re sorry if we alarmed him.”

  “Thomas has had a difficult life. He has no home but the church. No one to watch over him.” He stopped before them. “What did you want with him?”

  “Where did he come from?” Richard asked.

  “Come from?”

  “Where are his parents?”

  “I don’t know. I found him in the village, starving. Afraid. I didn’t ask him about his family.”

  “You said there were others. Other children?” Mercy wondered.

  “Yes. There are four children that I know of. Dunford is a larger village than Goodmont. The children sometimes go unnoticed. Thomas is one of the oldest. He helps me look out for the others.”

  “Are they all boys?” Richard asked.

  Mercy felt tingles along the nape of her neck.

  “Yes.” Father Stephen scowled. “How did you know?”

  Richard met Mercy’s gaze in silent revelation.

  Her heart squeezed tight. Could they be children the bishop had taken from her village? From other villages? Would they know where Kit was being kept? Thomas was not from her village, but he knew the bishop. “We need to speak to Thomas.”

  “What is this about? You’ve come to Dunford for a reason. I would like to help. Is there anything I can do?” Father Stephen asked.

  Mercy hesitated. Walter’s betrayal was fresh in her mind. Even though she liked Father Stephen, he was a man of the cloth, like the bishop. She wasn’t sure if she could trust him.

  “What do you know about Bishop Devdan?” Richard asked. There was bitterness in his voice.

  She looked at him, but his face was void of emotion.

  “Bishop Devdan?” Father Stephen echoed.

  Mercy shook her head, ready to tell Richard not to ask, not to give away their mission.

  “The boy seemed to be afraid when Mercy mentioned the bishop,” Richard said. “I want to know why.”

  Relief swept through Mercy. They could not afford for the bishop
to discover them so close to his home. And she wondered how loyal Father Stephen was to the bishop. For all she knew, he could be part of the bishop’s plan to steal the children. Her instincts were telling her this was not the case. Father Stephen helped the children of the village. But she couldn’t be certain of his loyalties.

  “Thomas is afraid of many of the men,” Father Stephen explained. “He was terrified of me when we first met.”

  “He didn’t seem to be afraid of me. He put up quite a fight,” Richard replied.

  Father Stephen looked from Richard to Mercy and back. “I have only respect for the bishop.”

  “How often does he visit Dunford?” Richard asked.

  “Not often. I go to the cathedral if I need his guidance.”

  “You’ve been to the cathedral?” Mercy asked, hopefully.

  “Of course.”

  “What did you see?” she asked.

  Father Stephen scowled at her in confusion. “It’s a beautiful cathedral. Mercy, child. I don’t understand what you are looking for. I want to help.”

  Mercy wanted to confide in him, but there was too much at stake. She looked away from Father Stephen to Richard.

  “Can you escort me to the cathedral?” Richard stared at Father Stephen intensely.

  “Why do you need an escort? Many go there to pray and worship. It is a house of prayer open to all.”

  “Can you show me around the cathedral? Perhaps point out holy artifacts or prevent me from entering somewhere I should not go.”

  Father Stephen nodded suspiciously. “Of course.” He looked at Mercy. “Will you be joining us?”

  Mercy began to nod, but Richard cut her off. “No. Not this trip. She has things to do in the village.”

  Mercy was going to object but thought it better to remain silent until she discovered what Richard had in mind.

  “I will be ready whenever you are,” Richard proclaimed.

  Father Stephen nodded. “I have some duties to perform. I shall return shortly.”

  “Do you need any help?” Mercy offered, feeling guilty about involving him.