“Lecie,” he managed in the barest of whispers.
“Saints be praised,” Betta murmured. “Sir Albin, can you hear me?”
His throat parched, Albin could not work up enough saliva to speak. Moving his lips, he prayed for ale.
The moment he felt cool liquid slide between his dry and cracked lips, he worked his throat to swallow. “Lecie.”
Holding the cup of ale, Betta slid her arm behind Albin’s head to prop him up to take more. “She is not here.”
His eyes opening to slits, something in Betta’s voice had his heart pounding. “Where?”
Searching around as if looking for a means of escape, Albin used his remaining strength to command, “Tell me where.”
Tears filled Betta’s eyes as responded, “Lecie stands accused of murdering Hamon. They are holding a trial in the square as we speak.”
Rage filled every fiber of Albin’s being as adrenaline had him rolling to the edge of the bed. “Sheriff Richard is a fool.”
“It is not he, Sir Albin. The king’s itinerant justice is here. He is seeking to take Lecie’s life for the slight against his friend, Baron Reynold.”
“Summon the men, I need assist.”
“The men are all gone, only Joseph remains behind.”
“Get him.”
Betta rushed out as Albin swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Rolling into a sitting position, he fought to stay conscious as the room spun around him.
He heard a commotion at the door and struggled to focus on the whirling figures entering his chamber.
Lady Reina, followed by a woman unknown to him with long dark hair and silver eyes, rushed over to him.
Resisting their attempts to push him back on the bed, he gripped Reina’s hand. “Where is Fulke? My Lecie is in danger.”
“I am Bronwyn, Sir Albin.” Slipping around the other side of the bed, the woman he was not acquainted with spoke as Lady Reina motioned for Albin to lay back. “Fulke is with my husband and Sir Talan headed for the square.”
Easing back onto the pillows, Albin blinked against the dark spots clouding his vision. “Bronwyn, my lady, I beg of you to save my wife.”
The last thing he remembered was the soft touch of Lady Reina’s hand on his forehead as Bronwyn responded, “We plan on saving you both.”
* * *
Searching over the group of men standing off to the side of the wagon, Justice de Glanville called, “Executioner, attend your duty.”
“There shall be a higher reckoning for the injustice done this day, my lord justice,” Winifred called.
His face a mottled red, Justice de Glanville whirled to search for the speaker as the crowd began to shout in one accord.
“Question the woman Harsent, my lord justice,” Merek called. “I have no doubt her story will change.”
“Who said that?” Justice de Glanville shouted. “I command you to step forward.”
“You are not the king,” another anonymous speaker called from the crowd. “I say Lady Lecie is innocent.”
“As do I,” another called followed by more shouts of innocence.
“I will have silence.” Justice de Glanville raked the crowd with his eyes. “As chief itinerant justice of this land, in the absence of King Henry my word is his. Dare to oppose my command and I shall have each and every one of you strung up beside the convicted.”
Silence fell as the crowd expressed their opinions with looks of anger and disbelief.
“Executioner, you may proceed,” Justice de Glanville called ignoring the hostility of the crowd.
Winifred’s soft sobbing was the only thing heard as Lecie waited for the hooded executioner to climb into the cart beside her.
Tying her hands behind her back, the executioner leaned close. “I beg your forgiveness for this lawless deed, Lady Lecie.”
Recognizing the voice behind the hood as a local she had known all her life, Lecie managed a tremulous smile. “My forgiveness is not needed, yet granted to you, Walter.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Slipping the noose over her head, Walter gently adjusted the knot at the back of her neck. “God be with you.”
Jumping down from the back of the cart, Walter moved to stand beside the mules. “I await your command, my lord justice.”
Justice de Glanville frowned at his insolent tone yet moved to stand directly before Lecie. “Have you any last words, Lecie of Rochester?”
“I do.” Lecie cleared her throat when her voice broke. Her eyes on the back of Winifred as she huddled into Merek’s chest, she called, “I am innocent of the charges laid against me this day. I ask only that you pray for the health of my beloved husband. If it is God’s will that he should follow me in death, I ask you all to look after my younger sisters and brother. I would not have this travesty be held against them.” Redirecting her gaze to Justice de Glanville, she inhaled deeply. “Seek your revenge, my lord justice. I am prepared to die with the knowledge that you yourself will be found guilty one day.”
Narrowing his eyes, he waved to Walter. “Pro—”
“Hold,” the shout came from a trio of riders galloping into the square. Villagers scrambled out of the way of the mighty destriers’ hooves as they churned up clods of soil on their way past. “What madness is this?”
“Baron Erlegh,” the murmur raced through the crowd as all eyes turned to the blond giant on the black destrier leading two other imposing men.
Startled by the commotion, the mules hitched to the cart began to move forward.
Fighting panic, Lecie fought to balance herself as the cart slowly slipped from beneath her feet.
“Talan, cut her down,” Fulke instructed as he reined up at the base of the slope.
“It would be my pleasure.” Whisking his sword from its sheath, Talan eased his horse beside the cart to slice through the thick rope above Lecie’s neck. Reaching for her, he guided her knee around the pommel of his saddle to seat her firmly before him. “Are you all right, Lady Lecie?”
Lecie collapsed against Talan’s chest sobbing uncontrollably as he untied her hands and removed the noose from around her neck.
“You are safe now,” he soothed. Holding her against his chest, he spurred his horse around to join Fulke and the stranger at the bottom of the rise. “She is frightened yet otherwise unharmed, my liege.”
“Baron Erlegh,” Justice de Glanville sneered. “You are defying a command given in the name of our king.”
Sizing up the justice, Fulke’s piercing blue eyes turned glacial. “Owing to the fact that I am well acquainted with our king, I have no doubt he will afford me a delay.”
“You are no longer his favorite,” Justice de Glanville replied. “Last I heard you were banished from court, or have you forgotten?”
“What you speak may be true,” Fulke agreed. “Nonetheless, I saved the king’s life on the battlefield and I would wager it is something he shall not soon forget.”
“The woman has been given a fair trial and found guilty of murder.” Justice de Glanville refused to back down. “The penalty has been meted out and wife of your man or not, even you cannot gainsay the king’s justice.”
“It was not a fair trial, your lordship,” Winifred shouted from the crowd. “I beg you to hear the evidence and judge for yourself.”
“Aye,” another called. “Lady Lecie is innocent. This is a travesty of the king’s law.”
Cocking a chiseled brow at the chief justice, Fulke dismounted. “You heard the people, let me hear the condemning evidence for myself.”
“I have already made my decision,” Justice de Glanville spat. “And the king shall hear of your interference in this matter.”
“Very well,” Fulke replied lightly. “While reporting to him, please remind him of your close association with his least favorite baron.” Pinning de Glanville with his gaze, Fulke smiled. “Oh, forgive me. Reynold is no longer a baron or possessor of lands, or so I have heard.”
“This has nothing to do with him.” Justic
e de Glanville swallowed hard. “I have disassociated myself from Reynold.”
“So you say.” Fulke shrugged. “After hearing what has transpired this day, I think it is something I shall let the king decide for himself.”
His sunken chest heaving, Justice de Glanville waved a hand in Lecie’s direction. “By all means feel free to proceed. I have no doubt the verdict will stand.”
“Thank you,” Fulke replied with a grin. “And as to the verdict, we shall see.” Assisting Lecie from Talan’s horse, he spoke for her ears alone. “I would have liked to extend my congratulations on your recent nuptials under different circumstances, my lady. However, things being what they are, I would like to wish you a long and blessed life with my dearest friend.”
“Thank you, your lordship. I pray that it may be so.” Lecie managed in a tremulous voice. “Has her ladyship Reina traveled with you to assist my husband?”
“She and even one more skilled than she are tending to him now,” Fulke reassured her. “Let us clear up this matter so that we may join them, shall we?”
“I would like that above all else.” Relieved Albin was in capable hands, Lecie regained her confidence.
Fulke called for drink as he waved Harsent and Gunilda off the bench they shared with a flick of his hand. Carrying the bench to the rise, he motioned for Lecie to have a seat as a villager handed her a cup of ale.
After she took several swallows to quench her thirst, Fulke moved to sit beside her. “Now then, why do not you start at the beginning and tell us once again what happened to bring you to this unfortunate circumstance?”
Emboldened by his reassuring smile, she faced the crowd to speak in a carrying voice. “It is as I have stated before. Our dog Tugger alerted me to the fact that something was wrong in the master chamber. When I opened the door, I saw Hamon standing over my husband with a pillow.” Tears slid from her eyes and she blinked them away. “It was at that moment, I realized the pillow I found on the floor in my Da’s room the day he died was also used by Hamon to end his life prematurely.”
“What happened next?” Fulke gently coaxed when she hesitated.
“After admitting to my father’s murder, Hamon attempted to smother my husband. I sicced Tugger on him and he attacked Hamon’s leg in an attempt to pull him away from my husband.” Lecie fell silent a moment, reliving the terrible moment. “It was then that Hamon repeatedly struck Tugger’s snout with a cup until he collapsed. I thought Hamon had killed him too.”
“It is all right, Lecie,” Fulke spoke low. “You are doing fine.” Addressing the crowd, he called, “Someone needs to fetch the dog from the inn.”
“Whyever for?” Justice de Glanville spoke from beside Sheriff Richard. “Do you plan on questioning the animal, Baron Erlegh?”
Gunilda laughed until someone from the crowd ordered her to keep quiet.
“So we can verify Lady Lecie’s account, my lord justice,” Fulke responded brusquely. “Surely I do not have to tell you that if a dog were struck with such brutal force, it would still bear some sign of the assault upon it?”
“I shall fetch the dog and return with all haste, your lordship,” Merek called, already making his way through the crowd.
His gaze still boring into Justice de Glanville, Fulke raised a hand in acknowledgement.
“Carry on, your lordship,” Sheriff Richard spoke when Justice de Glanville remained silent.
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Turning back to Lecie he continued, “Who was in charge of cleaning the chamber, Lecie?”
“It was I, your lordship,” Winifred called from the crowd as she weaved her way to the front. “I am Winifred and I recently started work at the inn. It was my husband who departed to retrieve the dog.”
“You.” Recognizing Winifred’s voice, Justice de Glanville lunged to his feet. “Your impertinence during these proceedings shall be addressed.”
Calmly meeting his gaze, Winifred dipped into a curtsy. “Whatever pleases you, my lord justice.”
“With all due respect, my lord justice,” Fulke redirected the conversation. “I am now in charge of these proceedings and any witness I call has the full immunity of the court. Bearing that in mind, I would ask that you remain seated and silent unless otherwise called upon.”
The crowd murmured their approval as Fulke addressed Winifred. “Did you happen to remove a cup from the floor of the master chamber?”
“I did indeed, your lordship,” Winifred responded. “It was broken into several pieces just as my lady Lecie stated.”
“Did you also happen to see the dog after this incident?”
“No, I did not.” Winifred lowered her eyes. “There was quite a mess to clean up and Master Clayton had already taken charge of the dog.”
“Thank you, Winfred. You may return to your place.”
“As you wish, your lordship.” Dipping into a curtsy, Winifred smiled at Lecie as she blended back into the crowd.
Fulke’s eyes widened as he spotted the wagon with Hamon’s covered body. “Why is the tapster not buried?”
Following his gaze, Justice de Glanville replied, “The guilty must bear witness to the evil they have wrought in my court, Baron Erlegh.”
“Do you honestly believe the threat of illness, stench and sight of decay would force an innocent to plead guilty?”
“Dare you question how the king rules his kingdom?”
Eyeing the arrogant balding figure below him, Fulke tilted his head. “By all appearances, you do not resemble the king, my lord justice. If anything, you have a remarkable likeness to Baron Reynold. If I did not know any better, I would swear you were his kin.”
“Get on with it,” Justice de Glanville snarled.
“So be it.” Fulke dipped into a mock bow. “Dr. Rayburn, attend me if you would be so kind.”
“Your lordship?” Rising from his place, the doctor hesitantly approached.
Striding over to the wagon bearing Hamon’s body, Fulke swept the blanket from him. The crowd remained silent as Fulke removed a knife to slit both legs of the bloodstained breeches Hamon wore from ankle to knee. “Do you see any visible signs of an animal attack?”
Examining each leg, Dr. Rayburn nervously glanced towards the justice.
“Well,” Fulke snapped. “Do you?”
“It appears that the evidence speaks true of the lady’s account of events,” Dr. Rayburn replied softly. “There are wounds resembling those which would be inflicted by an animal on one of the man’s legs.”
“Louder,” Fulke said. “You have besmirched this good woman’s name since I have been coming to Rochester. Now is the time to redeem yourself in the eyes of its people.”
Nodding stiffly, Dr. Rayburn faced the crowd. “There is credible evidence giving credence to Lady Lecie’s account.”
“What is all this for,” Gunilda called. “She has already been found guilty and should even now be swinging for her crime.”
“Thank you for reminding me of your presence.” Fulke strode over to tower over the fallen woman. “As I am sure you know the penalty for what you have done, you will stick to your story until the very end.” Sliding his gaze to the trembling Harsent, he waited until she raised terrified eyes to his. “Care you to have a turn at the truth, Harsent?”
“She made me,” Harsent blurted out brokenly. “Gunilda and Hamon planned it all. Hamon was to marry Lecie and Gunilda was to be mistress of the inn. They promised I would never be turned out if I went along with their plans.”
“Were you to know the Lady Lecie as I do, you would have known she would never have turned you out,” Fulke replied softly. “What of the scene you claimed to have witnessed?”
“I was not there, your lordship.” Harsent looked towards Lecie. “Forgive me. Gunilda threatened and coerced me into saying the things I swore to even though I knew it was not in you to do them.”
Lecie brushed the tears from her cheeks as she called, “I forgive you.”
“She lies,” Gunilda threw herself at t
he feet of Justice de Glanville. “She is so often befuddled by drink she knows not what she says.”
Kicking Gunilda into the dirt, Justice de Glanville hissed, “I shall have your neck for embarrassing me.”
“Your lordship,” Merek called as the crowd parted for him. “I have come with the dog as requested.”
Yanking the leash from Merek’s hand, Tugger went bounding up to Lecie. Nearly knocked over by the weight, she threw her arms around the dog and fought the urge to sob. “Good boy,” she whispered in his ear.
Fulke strode up to them as Tugger sat dutifully by her feet. Patting the dog’s flank in greeting, he gently ran his hand along the snout. Tugger whimpered and turned into Lecie when he found the tender spot.
“More proof that the Lady Lecie speaks the truth,” Fulke called, pinning Justice de Glanville with his gaze. “Not that it is needed after Harsent’s recantation of events.”
“Are you through?” Justice de Glanville ground out angrily.
“Not quite,” Fulke responded with a smile. “Lady Lecie, where did you strike your head on the dresser?”
Raising her hand to the bump on the back of her head, she leaned towards him. “I struck this spot here, your lordship.”
“Do I need to have Dr. Rayburn verify her account, Justice de Glanville?” Quirking a blond chiseled brow, Fulke waited.
Glaring his wrath, Justice de Glanville stood to address the crowd. “After further consideration, I find Lady Lecie innocent of the charges laid against her. In her stead and by command of King Henry, I order the hanging of the fallen women Gunilda and Harsent.”
“Your…” Fulke reached out to clasp Lecie’s forearm when she would plead for their lives.
Fulke leaned close to whisper, “They have earned their punishment, my lady. You must have no say in it.”
Lowering her eyes, she nodded. “Aye, your lordship.”
“Seize her,” Justice de Glanville shouted when Gunilda tried to flee.
Two hulking village men stepped forward to block her path. Seizing her by the arms, they dragged Gunilda to the cart as she shrieked in protest and struggled against them.
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