The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7

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The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7 Page 8

by Kathryn Le Veque


  He began to stalk her.

  Peter ignored the odd stares he was getting from the people around him as he followed Liora and her little group. He was waiting for just the right moment to reveal himself when he felt a sting to his neck. Something told him that Asa and his boy gang had found him and he whirled around, seeing the boys and their peashooters made from hollow pieces of straw.

  Immediately, he set out after them.

  When the boys saw the enormous knight bolting in their direction, they scattered. Asa was too slow to move, however, but he managed to release a scream as he slipped in the dirt, regained his footing, and then tore off as fast as he could. Peter was in motion, running around people in the crowd, as he bent over and scooped up some pebbles in the gutter all while he was still running. He managed to fire off three or four of the pebbles at the bigger boys who were running from him before firing off the last one at Asa’s head.

  “Ow!” Asa yelled as the rock hit him on the back of the neck.

  They had just rounded the corner on Catte Street and the boys were running at top speed. Peter came to a halt, watching them dash down the street.

  “If I catch you, I will hang you by your feet and throw rocks at your heads!” he shouted after them. “You had better keep running, you foolish whelps!”

  They shouted something at him but were too far away to be heard. One of them came to a halt and stuck his tongue out at Peter before continuing on. When they disappeared from view, Peter shook his head with disapproval at the naughty boys and returned to Poultry Street. He could only hope those little ruffians hadn’t caused him to lose sight of Liora.

  He hurried back to where he had seen her and was relieved to see she hadn’t gotten far. She was by herself now, looking in the baskets of a vegetable stall while the women she was with were down the lane a short distance, looking at other things.

  Peter saw his chance.

  “Psst!”

  He poked his head around the stall and hissed at her. He did it twice and the second time, she lifted her head, looking around to see where the sound was coming from. She didn’t see him, so she looked at her vegetables again until he hissed a third time, loudly, and her head snapped up. She looked right at him and their gazes locked.

  Peter smiled broadly and crooked a finger at her.

  Surprised, Liora’s eyes widened at the sight of him and she looked around to make sure the women she’d come with weren’t watching her. Hesitantly, she came around the stall and into the small alleyway behind it where Peter was hiding. She looked at him, shaking her head, perhaps in disapproval.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” she said. “I told you that I would be home in a little while. You could have come to the kitchen yard later.”

  He was smiling at her. In fact, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling at her. “I just had to see you,” he said. “I did not want to wait. Since I am sure you have no time to speak right now, I was wondering… there is a lovely meadow outside of Cripplegate. Do you know it?”

  She cocked her head. “The meadow?” she said. “I do not think so, but I know where Cripplegate is. Why?”

  The smile never left his face. “Because I was hoping… my lady, I beg you with all that I am, to meet me at Cripplegate this afternoon and we can take a walk in the meadow and talk.” His features were alive with sincerity. “I have so enjoyed speaking to you and that is not usual for me. It is rare that I meet a woman I feel comfortable with conversing and mayhap you will think that I am foolish, but I was hoping we could simply talk. Mayhap you will tell me about your life and how you live it. I am very interested in it. In you. Will you do me the honor?”

  Liora was hesitant. That much was clear, but he had asked so sweetly. It wasn’t often that she had such a lovely request, from a handsome young knight no less. In fact, it had really never happened and the romantic in her, the young woman who was burdened with a rigid life and little joy, was both intrigued and touched by it.

  Truth be told, she had been looking forward to seeing him today, too.

  But it was wrong. She knew it was wrong. He was a Christian and she was a Jew, and in that aspect, what he was asking wasn’t proper. It was simply a harmless little flirtation between them until he came back for more. Liora was a young woman ruled by reason because it had been drilled into her from a very young age. Reason, responsibility, faith, and duty. That was all she’d ever lived by. But a sweet, handsome knight was appealing to the part of her that longed for something beyond her narrow world.

  So much of her wanted to go with him.

  “I… I do not know,” she finally said. “It is so kind of you to pay attention to me, but mayhap I should not have encouraged you to come and see me again. It was wrong.”

  The smile faded from his lips. “Why is it wrong?”

  She looked around nervously, making sure her mother and grandmother weren’t hunting for her. “Sir Peter,” she said plainly. “You are an utter delight. When you stumbled into my kitchen yard, I was quite happy to talk to you. It was an enjoyable experience, and when you asked me if you could see me today, I should not have given you encouragement. You realize that we cannot do anything more than we already have. We cannot become… friends. You do know that?”

  Peter could see that this was going to end before it really got started and that wasn’t what he wanted at all. In fact, the mere thought was disappointing him far more than he realized it would.

  “Why?” he said. “Because you are a Jewess? All I see is a beautiful woman I want to know better. Whether or not you are Jewish is of no matter to me but, clearly, it matters to you. Given our conversation yesterday and how you behaved towards me, it did not occur to me that it would. I thought you saw the man, not the armor.”

  Liora could see that she’d offended him. “I did,” she said. “I do not care if you are Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. I do not see your religion, Peter, but my parents would see it, as your parents would see mine. So would those around us.”

  Peter looked at her, realizing that she was trying to force him to see something he didn’t want to see. Deep down, he knew that he was being ridiculously blind to it, but he didn’t care.

  All he saw was a woman he wanted to know.

  “Don’t you think it only matters what we think?” he asked.

  She sighed softly, a look of genuine regret on her face. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “It is if we say it is.”

  “I think you know that is not true.”

  He did, only he refused to admit it. He’d never met a woman that he was attracted to that he couldn’t have. He was coming to wonder if her forbidden status might make her even more attractive to him. Men always wanted what they could not have but, in this case, he didn’t think her forbidden fruit was sweeter. It simply made him more disappointed that it wasn’t meant for him.

  … or was it?

  “Will you do something for me?” he said after a moment. “It will be painless, I assure you.”

  Liora couldn’t look into that face and continue to refuse him. But she couldn’t seem to make herself walk away. “What is it?”

  “For a moment,” he said softly. “For a brief and glorious moment, can we simply be a man and a woman, and have a lovely conversation? It is clear that we can get along well. We saw that yesterday. It is obvious that I am attracted to you and when I want something, I usually get it. Will you put aside your religion for just an hour? Just one hour is all I ask. Let us pretend there are no obstacles at all. I am willing if you are.”

  She grunted hesitantly. “Sir Peter, I…”

  He cut her off, though it was not harshly. “Please, listen to me,” he said, lowering his voice. “I told you that my father is the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. At the moment, he is leading the opposition against King John and I am at his right hand. Do you know what that means? I have seen battle after battle as of late and even now, my family is packing up Lonsdale so that we can return to the Marches. My future, at t
he moment, is nothing but death and war. There is nothing pleasurable that I have to look forward to. If you would simply give me a memory of something sweet and innocent and delightful, something to look upon when the days are dark and the nights darker, then I would be grateful. My world is nothing but warfare, Demoiselle. Will you at least give me a little light to shine upon it, if only for a moment?”

  Her hesitation was gone. Of course, he was a knight. She knew that. She’d also known his father was a great earl but hearing him describe the life he lived was heartbreaking. This sweet, handsome man was facing gloom and doom. She barely knew him but, already, she didn’t like the idea of what he was facing. The danger he would be in. She knew from her father that the king and his barons were at war against each other, but this was the first time she’d had a face put to that war.

  That face was Peter de Lohr.

  “At Cripplegate?” she said softly.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Aye,” he said. “I will be there at midday. If you will come… I will be there. And if you do not, then I thank you for at least considering it.”

  She smiled at him, briefly, and quickly turned away, hurrying to find her mother and grandmother before they realized she was gone and tracked her down. Peter watched her go, wondering if he’d be waiting by himself all afternoon or if she’d make the decision to meet him. At this point, it was all up to her.

  He could only wait and see.

  CHAPTER SIX

  By mid-afternoon, Peter was forced to face the possibility that Liora wasn’t coming.

  He could have kicked himself, truly. He’d been so overwhelmed with her beauty and charm that it took him a while to realize that he’d done to her what Agnes had done to him – following her and trying to force a relationship.

  He felt like a fool.

  Cripplegate was a smaller gate in the walls of the city of London, but there was a guardhouse manned with Bigod men who knew him and his father, so he waited with them inside the guardhouse, rolling dice and winning a goodly sum. No one seemed to ask him why he was spending so much time at Cripplegate, but they all knew of the king’s offer to some of their lords, properties or titles in exchange for pulling armies out of London. Word traveled fast. Gossip was as important as breathing and according to the Bigod men, several lords were already preparing to pull out, following de Lohr’s lead.

  Peter learned a lot as he rolled the dice with the men-at-arms.

  Even so, his thoughts and his mind were on the gate itself and every person who came or went. He started losing because he was paying so much attention to the people outside the guardhouse that he simply wasn’t keeping track of the game. When he finally lost everything that he’d won, he decided to quit and just sat back as the guards continued to play. Shifts came and went as men who were outside came inside, and still, Peter continued to sit and watch the activity even as his mind was on the gate. It took him several hours to realize that she wasn’t coming.

  Disappointment filled him.

  Excusing himself from his new friends, he headed out of the guardhouse, thinking ahead to collecting his horse and heading back to Lonsdale. Mostly, he blamed himself for his misery. He’d pursued a woman who wasn’t interested and that was his own damned fault. He tried to console himself with the fact that he never really got to know Liora, so there was no great loss. At least, not really. But he wondered if he wouldn’t look back on this time in terms of what could have been. The life he could have had.

  The wife he could have had.

  But there was no use lamenting what had never really gotten started.

  Crossing in front of the gate, he was heading towards White Cross Lane where his horse was stabled. He was just passing out of the line of sight of Cripplegate when he heard someone shouting his name.

  “Sir Peter!”

  Curious, he stopped in time to see Asa and several other boys heading in his direction. Eyes narrowing, he reached down to pick up a handful of dirt and pebbles from the road, prompting Asa and the boys to come to a halt. Asa held out his hand to him.

  “Wait!” Asa said. “We’ve not come to fight! Lee-Lee has sent me!”

  Peter was a half-second from firing off a barrage of pebbles, but Asa’s words had him holding his fire. At least for the moment.

  He frowned.

  “Lee-Lee?” he repeated. “Who is that?”

  “My sister.”

  Peter eyed him and the pack of wild dogs behind him posing as children. “This had better not be a trick,” he said.

  Asa shook his head. “No trick,” he insisted. “Liora sent me to tell you that she’ll come in a little while. She has to help Ima.”

  “Who is Ima?”

  “Mother.”

  Peter still had the hand with pebbles cocked and ready. He looked over the boys for a moment, his gaze returning to Asa.

  “She told you to come and find me?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Aye.”

  “But why?” he said. “I’m sorry to say that you do not seem like the trustworthy type.”

  Asa frowned. “I can keep a secret,” he insisted. “I’m a Maccabee! I will not betray my sister or my friends!”

  The child seemed irate that he’d been called untrustworthy. Peter lowered his hand. “What’s a Maccabee?”

  “A warrior for God,” Asa insisted. “Don’t you know anything?”

  “I know a lot of things, but I don’t know about a Maccabee,” Peter said sarcastically. “Why should I? My education was Christian. Yours was Jewish. We know different things.”

  Asa edged a little closer, followed by his gang. Peter was well aware that they were moving closer and he braced himself for an ambush. The pebbles in his hand were still at the ready.

  “I saw you when you came to our house,” he said, looking him up and down. “You were dressed like a knight.”

  “I am a knight.”

  “Where do you come from?”

  “From my home, Lonsdale. It’s just outside of London, to the west. Next to the river.”

  “Have you seen a lot of war?”

  “I have seen a lot of war.”

  “Is Lonsdale a castle?”

  Peter shook his head. “Not Lonsdale,” he said. “But I have another home on the Marches called Lioncross Abbey Castle. It’s a very big and powerful castle belonging to my father, an earl. Do you know what that is?”

  Asa made a face as if he’d just asked something stupid. “Of course I do,” he said. “That’s a great lord.”

  “It is.”

  “Are you a great lord?”

  Peter dropped the pebbles in his hand. “I am a lord, but not a great one,” he said. “I am Lord Pembridge, soon to be the garrison commander of Ludlow Castle, one of the largest and finest castles on the Welsh Marches.”

  Asa digested that, looking him over. “Why do you want to talk to my sister?”

  “Because I think she is nice.”

  “She is nice,” Asa said. “But she already has a shaverim.”

  “What’s that?”

  Asa pointed at him. “Like you,” he said. “A man she talks to.”

  Peter’s eyebrows lifted. “She is betrothed?” he said, aghast, but realized that Asa didn’t understand him. “She is to be married?”

  Asa shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Just a friend who is a man. He comes around to talk to her, too. He tells my father he wants to marry her, but Lee-Lee does not want to.”

  Thank God, Peter thought. “Who is this shaverim?”

  “A merchant,” Asa said. “He sells horses. He is rich. I’ve heard my father say so.”

  Peter was getting quite an education about Liora thanks to her little brother. He really wasn’t surprised that she had a suitor, although it made him want to track the man down and threaten him. Still, he wasn’t surprised to hear that he had competition. With a woman of Liora’s beauty, he wouldn’t have expected otherwise.

  That simply made him want to fight harder.

  “
As I said, she is very nice to talk to,” he said as neutrally as he could. “What does she do all day? In fact, what do you do all day other than run around with ruffians and throw rocks at people?”

  He thought he was very clever, bringing Asa into the conversation as if he were curious about him, too, and not just Liora. But Asa and his friends started posturing threateningly.

  “We protect our street from Saul’s Army,” he said. “It is my duty.”

  Peter frowned. “What is Saul’s Army?”

  “From Wood Street.” A bigger boy spoke up, freckles all over his face. “They live on Wood Street and they come to our street and try to steal eggs. We have to fight them off.”

  “God’s Bones,” Peter muttered. “Are these grown men?”

  Asa shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “They are like us, but they bring clubs and try to hit us. We must defend our street.”

  Peter fought off a grin when he realized the boys were dealing with another boy gang of thieves. It seemed that the Jewish quarter of London was just as bad as the rest of England with battles and enemies.

  “I see,” he said. “Keep aiming rocks as you do and you should have no trouble chasing them away.”

  Asa’s gaze moved to the big broadsword hanging on Peter’s left thigh. “Can we borrow your sword?”

  Peter shook his head. “It is as heavy as you are,” he said. “It would not do you any good. But the next time Saul’s Army comes to steal eggs, send word to me. I’ll come and fight them off.”

  That brought a strong reaction from Asa and his friends. Their eyes widened and they looked at each other, shocked by the offer.

  “A goy?” Asa said, surprised. “You would do that?”

  “What’s a goy?”

  “A Christian.”

  Peter shrugged. “I suppose I would,” he said. “But don’t call me a goy. It sounds like a disease.”

  “What do I call you, then?”

  Peter did grin, then, unsheathing his broadsword in one smooth motion. “I am Saint Peter to you,” he said. “They called him the Rock and that is exactly what I am – the Rock. The greatest knight in all Christendom. And don’t you forget it.”

 

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