Chaucey looked pleadingly at Leofrick.
“Well?” the justice snapped. “Why are you looking elsewhere when I have asked you a question, lackwit?”
“I did not pass the night here, lord justice.” Chaucey spoke so low only Caine and Edmund who were standing alongside him could hear.
“What did you say? Speak up, you fool!” The justice’s face and neck had turned an alarming shade of red.
“Your clerk said that he did not spend the night here, lord justice.” Leofrick stepped from around his father’s seat to fully face the enraged man. “Keeping with the tradition of hospitality, I invited him to accompany me to The Wounded Stag for a cup of ale after supper. The hour grew late so we ended up passing the night there.”
“You swiving piece of sheep offal,” the justice snarled. Before anyone could utter a word in protest his arm shot out to seize Chaucey by the throat. “Did you speak about my personal affairs?” With his free hand, he began to pummel his terrified clerk about the face. “What did you say?”
“I was the only one with him, and he confided naught, lord justice.” Troubled by the justice’s actions, Leofrick attempted to defend Chaucey. “I was attempting to be courteous and did not mean to cause offense.”
In response, the justice roughly shoved Chaucey away from him.
Stumbling back, Chaucey lost his footing and slammed hard into the wall.
Edmund managed to right the clerk before he fell.
“Leave him, he has had worse,” the justice ordered.
Edmund straightened with a look of disbelief. His gaze was filled with apology when he finally managed to catch Leofrick’s notice.
“Who were you with at the inn?” Oblivious to the sheriff and his stunned family the justice continued to pepper his clerk with questions.
“Twas only Mister Leofrick who departed here with me, lord justice.” Chaucey cowered against the wall beside Edmund.
“Dare you tell me that he is the only person you spoke with at a public tavern?”
Chaucey hazarded a nervous glance at Leofrick. “Sir Talan joined us after a time, lord justice. He is currently staying at the inn.”
“I must have heard you wrong.” Justice de Glanville’s dark eyes narrowed to slits. “Who did you say?”
Swallowing convulsively, Chaucey managed to whisper, “Sir Talan.”
“You spent yonder eve drinking with a knight in the service of a man I loathe?”
Too frightened to respond, Chaucey bowed his head in shame.
“Sheriff, send one of your sons to the tavern for Sir Talan,” the justice demanded. “In the past he has shown a marked degree of attention to your daughter. I have some questions for him.”
“Caine, make haste and do what the justice requested,” Richard ordered his son.
“I shall return as quickly as I can, father.” Darting a worried look at his brothers on the way out, Caine rushed from the room.
“Your clerk is bleeding from the mouth, lord justice.” The sheriff stood. “If you would allow it, I will have my wife tend to him.”
“Do so if you must.” The justice seemed distracted.
Richard called for Emmaline from the doorway.
She had been listening in the passageway and instantly appeared with frightened eyes.
“Emmaline, the justice’s clerk has hurt himself.” Richard gently squeezed her fingers. “Please tend to him the best you can.”
“Will you please come with me?” Emmaline kept her gaze fixed on the cowering clerk. “I can tend to you best in the scullery.”
“Thank you, madam.” Darting a terrified glance at the justice, Chaucey made haste to follow after her.
“I am not yet through with you.” The justice followed Chaucey’s exit with a stern eye. After a moment, he turned back to the sheriff. “I am not pleased that a family I am to align my good name with keeps such lowly company. I expect your association with Baron Erlegh and his men to be severed from this day forward.”
“With all due respect, lord justice, I cannot prevent the baron’s knights from lodging at the only public inn in Rochester. Our gracious king has ordered them here to oversee construction at the tower. I am sure you would agree he would see them comfortable whilst they are following his directive.”
“Do not presume to know what I think, sheriff. Now that the tower is all but finished, I will personally see to it that the king rescinds his order the moment I return to London with your daughter.” Resuming his seat, the justice leered. “For I have no doubt she will be returned to me.”
Frederick, Edmund, and Leofrick intuitively shifted closer to their father’s seat when they heard the front door open.
Caine came rushing into the room out of breath. “Father, Sir Talan is no longer staying at the inn. I questioned both the tapster and the alewife. They have not seen him since he retired to his chamber last night. The alewife stated that he made no announcement of his imminent departure.” Caine hesitated. “I inspected both his chamber and the stables. His belongings and horse are gone.”
Uncomfortable silence filled the solar at the end of Caine’s report. The sons knew better than to speak before their father, and their father waited for the justice to speak.
Justice de Glanville’s left eye began to twitch, yet he said not a word.
Footsteps in the passageway had the brothers turning in unison toward the door.
Chaucey cautiously entered holding a square of linen to his bleeding mouth. Set on returning to his place against the wall beside Edmund, he avoided making eye contact with the justice.
In a move that belied his aging, portly frame, the justice leapt from his seat while unsheathing a dagger from the bawdryk at his waist. Lunging at the unsuspecting Chaucey, he began to stab the hapless man. Arcs of blood propelled upwards by the force of the dagger thrusts splattered against the walls and ceiling.
Frozen in disbelief Richard and his sons stood immobile while the justice relentlessly continued his attack on Chaucey. It was Leofrick who came to his senses long enough to put a halt to the brutal assault. Approaching the justice from behind, he forcefully knocked the dagger from his hand. He then forced the justice’s arms up and behind his head to pin them to the back of his neck.
Rendered helpless the justice bellowed profanities and struggled to free himself from Leofrick’s unbreakable hold. “Release me, or I shall have you all tried and executed for assaulting the king’s envoi.”
“We intend no offense, lord justice.” Leofrick forced the elder man into a chair by applying pressure to his hands. Only then did he manage to take in the carnage he felt partly responsible for.
His face splattered with crimson, Chaucey was on his back gurgling blood from deep within his throat. Caine, Edmund, and Frederick were still staring at the clerk in stunned disbelief when their father knelt in the pooling blood beside the dying man.
Chaucey’s eyes began to glaze over when he attempted to focus on the justice. Mumbling something, he coughed, spattering more crimson gore on his chin and ashen cheeks.
Leaning closer, the sheriff asked Chaucey to repeat his dying words. When he straightened, he said, “You may rest in peace.”
After a few more wheezing breaths, Chaucey closed his eyes for the final time and lay still.
High-pitched screams broke the silence that descended when Emmaline entered to investigate the clamor. Her terror-filled eyes swept over her sons to assure they were unharmed before returning to the slain clerk.
His hands covered in Chaucey’s blood, Richard moved around his wife to bellow for Cristine.
When the flustered servant appeared, her eyes were briefly transfixed by the blood staining her employer’s hands. The moment she spotted Chaucey on the floor, her frightened gaze shot back to Richard’s to await his instruction.
“Cristine, please take your mistress to our chamber and do what you can to soothe her,” the sheriff said. “I will join you once I am able.”
Bobbing her head, Cristine
wrapped her arm around the shoulders of her mistress. Quietly murmuring words of comfort into her ear, she slowly guided Emmaline from the room.
Richard watched them go with a look of utter defeat. His family had been made to witness a murder committed by one of the most powerful men in the realm. To conceal his crime the justice could have them all brought up on false charges and arrested or executed. Determined to protect his family, he vowed to remain silent. He would have to pray it would be enough.
†
Stars began to make their appearance in the gloaming by the time Talan and Mylla reached the far outskirts of Reading.
“We are losing the light,” Talan said in frustration. “I would have it otherwise yet I think it best we make camp for the night. It is not wise to travel unfamiliar paths in the dark.”
“Whatever you think is best.” Mylla could not help but sound relieved. Riding sidesaddle did not allow for the adjustments necessary to ease the fatigue of remaining in one position for so long. After a brief time spent in his arms, he once again felt it best they separate.
Guiding his horse off the road, Talan led them deep into the woods until he found a small open clearing not far from a large stream. “This should do.” Dismounting, he reached up to lift her down. “How are you faring?”
“I must admit to being pleased that we are finished riding for the day.” Suddenly nervous to be alone with him, Mylla’s hands trembled on his shoulders. “Do you think it possible I could bathe in the stream? I smell more like a horse than myself.”
“The water is bound to be cold yet I see no harm in it.” Assured she would not collapse, Talan released her to pull a linen cloth from his satchel. “I will escort you as far as the bank. I do not know how deep the water runs so I would ask that you keep to the shallows.”
“I shan’t wade far.” Pulling a clean white chemise and scarlet brocade kirtle from her pack, Mylla retrieved the costly bar of soap her mother had packed for her. “You could bathe with me, if you feel the need to do so.”
Talan stood in indecision for several heartbeats. “Very well,” he said more to himself. Digging through his pack, he pulled out a laundered pair of braies and black woolen hose.
Glad for the cover of darkness, Mylla inhaled a steadying breath when Talan reached to hold her hand.
“Watch your step near the bank,” he said, “the stones will be slippery.” Leading the way by starlight it grew darker when they passed through a thicket of trees.
Once on the bank, they were afforded more light to see by. Raising the hem of her skirts, Mylla kicked off her slippers.
Talan found his voice when she began to loosen the lacings of her kirtle. “I will go a little upstream to give you some privacy.”
Mylla’s fingers stilled. “You are going to leave me alone?”
“I shan’t be far away,” Talan assured her. “Have you a need, call for me.”
“Very well.” Mylla could not conceal her disappointment.
“Under the current circumstances, I think it is for the best.” Talan hesitated. “Would you not agree?”
“I suppose so.” Mylla turned her back on him to strip off the rest of her clothing.
“When you are finished, call for me and I will lead you back through the woods.”
“I believe I can find my own way back.”
“That I do not doubt, yet I will not hear of it.” Talan began to make his way upstream along the muddy bank. “We are not the only souls about at night and I would keep you safe.”
Mylla peered over her shoulder at the dense tree-line half expecting a hungry wolf to pounce upon her. She could hear Talan’s sharp intake of breath on the opposite side of a large outcropping of rock when he waded into the frigid water. With her bar of soap in hand, she carefully stepped on stones worn smooth by time and current. A shiver coursed through her when she fully immersed herself in the water’s flow. Closing her eyes in relief she allowed her mind drift. Talan could be heard splashing into deeper water and she pictured him in her mind.
“Mylla, is everything right with you?”
Her eyes snapping open, she suddenly felt flushed despite the temperature of the water. Imagining Talan could read her racy thoughts, she searched for something to say.
“Mylla?” There was concern discernible in Talan’s tone, “please answer me.”
“I am here,” she called. Hastily scrubbing her chilled skin with the rose scented soap, shivers completely wracked her body by the time she finished.
Toweled off and dressed, Talan called to her from the bank. “If you stay in much longer, you are bound to catch cold.”
“I am coming out.”
“I will leave you a cloth on the bank.”
“Please do not leave me.” Fear crept into Mylla’s voice.
“Never, mon coeur, I only intend to give you some privacy.”
Wading to the bank, Mylla quickly dried off. She joined him by the tree-line after she finished dressing. “Thank you for allowing me to bathe. I feel so much better for it.”
“There is no need to thank me.” Talan clasped her arm in the darkness to guide her through the trees. “You are shivering.”
“I am just a tad chilled.”
“I shall have you warm soon enough.” Retrieving Mylla’s cloak from her satchel, he wrapped it around her shoulders. “It will only take me a moment to start a fire. After which, I shall tend to the horses.”
“See to the horses first,” Mylla said. “They are bound to feel neglected after such a long journey.”
“Are you certain?”
“Aye, I can wait.”
“You truly are too good to be true.” Leaning down to kiss her cheek, he disappeared into the darkness.
Mylla spread coverlets on a patch of ground protected by a canopy of trees. Sitting in the center of the inviting pallet with her legs tucked beneath her she listened to Talan’s movements a short way off.
He returned with his arm laden with sticks. Dropping them into a pile beside their makeshift bed, he used rocks to form a fire barrier. Once he gathered some leaves and small twigs, he struck a piece of flint against a sliver of steel to create a spark. Gently blowing on the base of the pile at the first sign of smoke, he straightened with a look of satisfaction when the fire began to build.
After Talan settled down beside Mylla the sound of the forest dwellers once again filled the night. The buzz and drone of insect mating calls carried to them on the brisk spring wind while nocturnal animals began to forage the woods for food.
Mylla studied Talan’s solemn features in the flickering firelight as he added twigs to the growing flames. “It looks very inviting.”
Talan leaned back on his heels. “I suppose it does look inviting, especially if you are feeling chilled.”
“It is more than that.” Mylla fidgeted with the end of her flowing sleeve. “I think firelight has a way of making things look more appealing. I suppose that makes no sense at all.”
“It makes perfect sense.” Talan pulled a loaf of stale bread and a wedge of hard cheese from his pack. “Some of the more memorable moments in my life have happened around a fire such as this.”
“Will you tell me about them some time?”
“If you would like,” he said.
Mylla accepted a portion of the bread and took a bite. Gazing upward, she studied the star-laden sky. “I have never slept outdoors afore.”
“Does the thought frighten you?”
“I would never feel frightened with you by my side.” Mylla met his gaze. “Only the thought of it makes me feel very small.”
“I have thought the same on many occasions.” Talan draped his cloak across her lap. “You may feel a chill during the night even with my tending to the fire.”
“What about you?” Mylla asked. “I would not see you go without in order to insure my comfort.”
“I am accustomed to the cold.” He chuckled. “In truth, I have spent more of my life sleeping without doors rather than within
them.”
“Talan?”
Something in the tone of her voice caused him to tense. Meeting her tender gaze, he waited for her to speak.
“Will you kiss me?” She nervously glanced down at her hands. “Like you did earlier this day?”
Talan raked a hand through his damp hair. “Mylla, if I kiss you now, I fear that I will not be able to stop myself from doing more to you.”
“Is that such a bad thing? We love each other.”
“It is not a proper thing owing to the fact that we are not yet properly wed.”
“Does that mean you are chaste?” His surprised look had her add, “I have four older brothers who are fond of boasting about their conquests when it comes to the fairer sex.”
“They spoke of such things in your presence?”
“Let us say I often overheard things.”
“Meaning you eavesdropped on your brothers.” Talan grinned.
“After Lecie’s mother passed on, she was unable to spend much time with me. It was either that, or grow bored with the choices allotted me,” Mylla admitted, “I was not at all interested in feminine pursuits.”
“Having four elder brothers you must have overheard quite a bit over the years.”
“Aye, I did. To my mother’s chagrin, my brothers do not believe the bonds of matrimony are necessary to lay with a woman. She believes she has failed in her upbringing of them, but my father says tis the way of men.”
“The women they refer to are not like you, Mylla.”
“Are you referring to the loose women who sell themselves in the tavern?”
Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Talan tossed his crust of bread into the darkness. “I had hoped you were unaware of such women.”
“Lecie is my closest friend. We have no secrets from each other. She was fond of the women who serviced the men at The Wounded Stag… most of them anyway. Betta had even become a sort of mother figure to her and the children.”
“You never cease to surprise me.”
“I appear far more innocent than I am,” she teased, “and you are avoiding my question.”
“I am far from being chaste, mon coeur. I spent time with loose women to feel something during times I felt lonely. I did not…” He cupped her face. “I did not love any of them. Do you understand?”
Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 Page 9