Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Muriel, do you need money to buy more food?”

  “I do,” she admitted. She put her hand on her stomach wondering if she should tell him about the baby. She hadn’t even told Isaac, because she didn’t want him to slip up and tell the other barons before Nicholas returned. “Since the baron has ordered me to leave the manor, I haven’t eaten much.”

  “That is terrible. Here, take this coin and food.” He put a satchel over her shoulder that was loaded down with bread and cheese and wine, then handed her a small bag of coins. “I brought the shepherds something to eat, and I want you to have the rest.”

  “Thank you,” she said with tears in her eyes because of his kindness.

  “Why do you cry, child?” he asked. “Do you miss the baron?”

  She laughed at that, thinking she didn’t miss him yelling at her and accusing her of betraying him. Then she remembered their coupling, and the love they’d shared and her emotions rose up to the surface. She started to cry. The monk put his arm around her shoulder.

  “Is there something else you need to tell me?” he asked in a calming voice. “You can tell me anything, Muriel. I am your friend.”

  “I am very emotional, and not feeling well lately.”

  “And is there a reason for it?”

  “Aye. There is. You see . . . I’m pregnant with the baron’s child,” she blurted out before she could think about what she was doing. But it had felt so good to have a friend again, that she just needed to tell someone.

  The monk slowly moved his arm away. “Does the baron know?”

  “Nay,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s been away, and I had planned on telling him when he returns, but now I’m afraid to tell him. He’s so angry with me right now, that I don’t know what to do.”

  “He should return from Pensworth soon. You need to tell him.”

  “I’m not sure he’d be happy about it, Brother Germain.”

  “Well, there is only one way to find out.”

  “I suppose you are right. Thank you for the food and coin, but I will be heading back to my shop now.”

  “Muriel, are you going to tell him?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she said, and hurried away, more confused than she’d ever been in her life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nicholas rode through the gates of Vaughn Manor early the next morning, glad to finally be back home. His squire followed him into the courtyard and hopped off his horse, taking the reins of Nicholas’s horse as he dismounted as well.

  Nicholas looked up to see both the barons of Hastings and Sandwich hurrying out of the great hall to greet him.

  “Nicholas, it’s about time you retuned, you vagabond,” said John.

  “We’d almost given up hope you’d come back to this tiny dwelling,” added Conlin. “We figured you decided to stay at your father’s castle instead.”

  Nicholas wasn’t in the mood to be ridiculed about not having a castle. “Why is it both of you are still here?” he asked. “I thought you were going to take turns watching my docks.”

  “We did take turns,” admitted John. “But lately it proves so amusing around here, we both decided to stay.”

  “What in the devil’s name are you talking about?” He headed off for the great hall with them at his side.

  “Should I tell him or will you?” Conlin asked John as they walked.

  “You can tell him the first part, but please, I want to tell him the latter.”

  “God’s eyes, stop it! You two sound like a couple of cackling hens. Now out with it. What has been happening since I left?”

  “My lord, my lord, you won’t believe what’s been happening,” said Roger, running up with Isaac at his side. “Isaac just told me that Henry ran away again to see a girl in town, but came back, and the barons threw him in the dungeon.”

  “Is this true?” Nicholas waved his hand through the air to tell a serving wench to bring them ale, and plopped down in his dais chair, running a weary hand through his hair.

  “Aye, it is.” Conlin scowled at the squire. “That was the part I was going to tell you.”

  “My lord, you’ve returned,” came another voice next.

  Nicholas looked up to see his Surveyor of Customs hurrying into the great hall and toward the dais.

  “Richard? Why are you here instead of at the docks?”

  The man bowed and then continued. “I am here to tell you I believe there is some illicit behavior going on between the Collector and Controller of Customs and some merchants from the town. I can’t prove it, but I believe they are stamping blank documents, and taking payment from the guild merchants in return for letting them fake the ledgers.”

  “Damn, I knew it.” Nicholas held out his cup and the serving wench filled it with ale, then did the same for the other two barons. “And I bet that merchant, Samuel Fuller, is one of the men involved.”

  “He as well as the head of the Clothmaker’s Guild, as well as several other guild members I suspect, my lord.”

  “Have you two heard anything about this?” asked Nicholas, looking at his friends.

  “Aye,” said John, sounding irritated. “That is why we both stayed. I was about to tell you.” He fished something out of his pouch. “I had a dockworker go into the water and look for the parchment that fell in, the day you left.” He pulled out a water-worn parchment, still wet, and slopped it on the table in front of Nicholas, splashing water on him in the process.

  “Egads, Hastings, have you no manners?” Nicholas took two fingers and opened up the parchment. There was nothing there.

  “As you see, the receipt is blank, yet it still has the seals stamped on the outside,” John pointed out.

  “Could the ink have faded away in the water?” asked Roger, looking over Nicholas’s shoulder.

  “Nay,” said Nicholas. “If it had, we would at least still see smears. I do believe we found the culprits. Thank you, Richard, for bringing this to my attention.”

  “And me?” John looked dejected for not being acknowledged.

  “What about you?” he asked. “If you knew there was deceit on my docks, why didn’t you do something about it?”

  “We wanted to wait for you,” Conlin spoke up. “After all, if we threw them in the dungeon, we’d have to do the same to the spinster, and we weren’t sure you’d agree to that.”

  “Muriel?” he asked. “What about her? Is she really involved in all this?”

  “Well, you did see her on the wharf with the blank parchment in her hand,” said Conlin.

  “Not to mention, we heard the runaway servant say he was with Muriel,” added John. “So she must have been trying to help him escape again.”

  “That’s not true,” said Isaac. “My sister did nothing of the kind. She is feeling ill lately, and Henry actually punched a man when he tried to hurt my sister.”

  “Is Muriel hurt?” Nicholas thunked his cup on the table, spilling ale everywhere when he stood up so fast.

  “Henry helped my sister on Tanner’s Row, but he wasn’t there to stop Samuel Fuller from hitting her in the face,” Isaac told him.

  “Where is she?” Nicholas clenched his teeth and his jaw twitched. He checked his weapons, ready to plunge his blade through any man’s heart who dared to hurt Muriel.

  “She’s probably in town, since you banned her from coming back to the manor,” John told him.

  “You two fools knew someone was hitting her and yet you let her go back to town alone?”

  “I thought she just fell,” said Conlin, raising his hands. “You know how those commoners are always falling.”

  “Aye,” said John. “I figured that damned spindle hit her in the face.”

  “Roger, get my horse,” said Nicholas, heading to the door. “Barons Hastings and Sandwich, please come with me.”

  “Where are we off to?” asked Conlin, as they walked.

  “We’re going to the docks to arrest some men, and then I am going to town to bring back the woman I
love.”

  Conlin and John just stopped and stood there with their mouths open, but Nicholas continued to the stables without explaining himself. He’d surprised himself by what he just said, but he wouldn’t take it back. He did love Muriel, and no matter if she was a spinster or a noble, she needed to know it. And after that, he would decide just what to do with her. But either way, at least he will have told her before it was too late – the way it had been with his mother.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nicholas dismounted and pulled his sword from his scabbard as he stormed toward the customs booth. The other two barons did the same and followed. To his luck, he saw not only his Collector and Controller of Customs there, but also Oliver, the head merchant of the Clothmaker’s Guild, as well as two other guild members he’d seen with the man lately.

  “My lord! We didn’t know you had returned.” His Controller of Customs slid a parchment over to the Collector, and faked a smile.

  “Would you like to walk the docks and I’ll tell you what’s happened since you’ve been gone?” His Collector of Customs slipped the parchment into his pouch and stepped in front of the other two, and tried to direct Nicholas onto the docks. Nicholas just held out the tip of his sword and the man’s hands went up in the air.

  “Let me see that,” Nicholas ordered.

  “See what, my lord?”

  “Baron Hastings, will you do me the favor?” Nicholas asked, his sword still pointed at the Collector’s chest.

  “It would be my pleasure.” John strolled over to the man, and with one swipe of his sword he cut the pouch from his waist and it fell to the ground. “Pick it up,” ordered John, and the man did as told. “Now give me the receipt you just tried to hide.”

  John took the receipt from the man and handed it to Nicholas. Nicholas flipped it open with one hand, keeping his sword steady with the other. “It seems to me you forgot something here.” He turned it around for everyone to see it was indeed blank.

  “We’re sorry, my lord,” said the Controller. “We won’t make that mistake again.”

  “You three,” Nicholas said next, nodding to the guildsmen. “Get out your receipts and show them to me, now.”

  The men reluctantly did as told. Nicholas pointed with his sword at the large shipment of wool stacked on the dock. “I’m assuming this belongs to the guildsmen?” he asked his Collector.

  “It does, my lord. They are shipping it out overseas.”

  “Sandwich, collect the receipts and show them to me,” he told Conlin. When his friend did as told and opened them up, they too were blank.

  “Controller, show me the ledgers,” he said next, and the man reluctantly picked them up and brought them over for Nicholas to see.

  He looked at the books and then back to the merchants. “What are your names?” he asked.

  “I’m Oliver Card, town mayor and head of the Clothmaker’s Guild, and these are other guild members, Thomas Fox and Bertron Chandler,” the man said with dignity.

  “This ledger shows none of your names, yet you all hold blank receipts for imported and exported goods you should have paid taxes on. Would someone care to explain this?”

  “They bribed us, my lord,” said the Collector. “They paid us to give them blank stamped receipts instead of paying taxes.”

  “That’s right,” added the Controller. “The guild members fill out the receipts at home and tell us what to write in the ledgers later.”

  “Are there more involved?” asked Nicholas.

  “Just Samuel Fuller and the dead man,” answered the Controller.

  “You are all hereby under arrest for deceit and treachery to the crown. For not paying your taxes to me as well as your king. Take them all to the dungeon until I can decide what to do with them,” Nicholas told the other barons. They did as he ordered, and his squire and the Surveyor of Customs helped them.

  “Wait,” he said, as they walked away. “Who is this dead man you speak of?”

  “He’s your lover’s dead father,” spat Oliver.

  John reached out and hit him in the face with the hilt of his sword. “Don’t talk that way to your superior.”

  “Are you saying that Muriel’s father was involved in this as well?” This is not what Nicholas wanted to hear.

  “Aye,” said the man, rubbing his jaw. His mouth was bleeding.

  “Are the girls involved in this too? Muriel and Cecily?”

  “Why don’t you ask them?” spat Oliver.

  John raised the hilt of his sword again, but Nicholas stopped him. “Go on, take them back to the manor. I’ll go collect Samuel.”

  Nicholas sheathed his sword, and headed to his horse, only hoping beyond hope that Muriel wasn’t really involved in all this after all or he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

  *

  Muriel sat up on the pallet and yawned. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this tired. It had to be because she was pregnant. She carefully placed her hand on her stomach, and rubbed it in small circles. She wanted so much to tell Cecily, and have her share in her excitement, but her friend was still not talking to her. Muriel missed her mother more than ever now, and didn’t want to go through this pregnancy all alone. She knew her father would have been elated to know he was going to have a grandchild. Isaac would be happy to know he was going to be an uncle too. She should have told Isaac. He would always be there for her. Yes, she decided, she would tell him. That’s what she would do.

  Suddenly she heard pounding on her front door, and she jumped up to see Cecily out the window. The girl looked frantic.

  Muriel walked over and opened the door and let her in. “Cecily? What’s the matter?”

  “Muriel, it’s my stepfather,” she said. “He is so angry he beat my mother terribly, and I’m not sure she is going to live.”

  “Let’s go help her,” said Muriel, running to put on her shoes.

  “Nay, you can’t.” The girl’s hand shot out in the air to stop her. “He will hurt you again if you do, and I can’t allow that to happen to my friend.”

  “Friend?” She finished putting on her shoes and stood up slowly. “Are we still friends, Cecily?”

  “We always were,” said the girl with tears in her eyes. “And I am so sorry that he hurt you.” She reached over and they embraced and Cecily ran a loving hand over the bruise on Muriel’s face. “I will never let him hurt you again. I should have trusted you when you told me he was doing something illegal.”

  “Do you believe me now?”

  “I do. My stepfather is so angry because some of the other guild members have been arrested on the docks along with the Controller and Collector of Customs. He knows Baron Romney is coming for him next.”

  “Nicholas is back?” Her heart jumped into her throat, and though it was much too early, she imagined she felt the baby stir. Her hand flew to her stomach, and she looked down and rubbed her belly.

  “Aye, he’s returned,” said Cecily, looking at her oddly. “Muriel, is there something you want to tell me?”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I am pregnant with Nicholas’s baby.”

  Cecily squealed and they hugged each other. Muriel wanted the moment of happiness to last, but it ended abruptly when Cecily’s stepfather walked through the door.

  “You! You’re to blame for all this.” He walked toward her with eyes blazing and his finger pointing straight at her. He looked like a man possessed.

  “Nay,” Cecily cried, standing in front of Muriel with her arms outstretched to protect her. “You can’t blame Muriel for what happened.”

  “I can and I will. And if I hadn’t already killed her father for trying to swindle the rest of the guild members by taking his goods to Canterbury, I’d do it now for sure.”

  “You killed my father?” Muriel stepped out from behind her friend, shocked to hear this. “Cecily, did you know this?”

  “Nay,” the girl said with tears in her eyes. “Muriel, I swear I had no idea about any of this until
now.”

  “It was all his idea to cheat the baron and the king in the first place. He’s the one who convinced the rest of us to join him,” growled Samuel.

  “You lie!” she spat. “He would never do anything of the kind.”

  “He said he wanted to do it in order to get a good sized dowry to marry you off to a wealthy merchant. But then he tried to back out, but we wouldn’t let him. He was going to turn us in, and that is why I had to kill him. He should have just sold the damn ring, but he wanted you to have it.”

  “Why did you give the ring to me when you could have kept it?” she asked.

  “I did keep it for a week, but you started to get suspicious and I was afraid you’d figure it out and turn us in to the baron. I thought you’d trust me if I gave it to you, but now I see it was all for naught. Now get out of my way, Cecily, because I’m going to kill the bitch.”

  “Nay, don’t hurt her! She’s pregnant,” cried Cecily, and Muriel wished she wouldn’t have told him.

  “Even better,” said Samuel, pulling his dagger from his waistbelt. I will find pleasure in killing the baron’s bastard even more than I’ll enjoy killing you.”

  Nicholas stood in the doorway, having overheard Samuel’s entire confession. He was about to arrest the man, when he heard Cecily say that Muriel was pregnant with his baby. He drew his sword and stepped into the room, feeling a nerve ticking in his jaw.

  “No one is going to harm my woman nor my child.”

  Cecily reached out to try to stop her stepfather, but with one hard blow he sent her sprawling across the floor. He raised his blade and lunged for Muriel next, but in two long strides Nicholas was across the room, and hitting the man in the head with the hilt of his sword. The man went down hard, and Nicholas reached out for Muriel. He pulled her to him with one arm, and she looked up to him with tears in her eyes.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I am,” she said and nodded.

  Then from the corner of his eye he saw Samuel, dagger in hand, get up off the floor and lunge at him. Nicholas turned to block Muriel, and raised his sword and stabbed the man through the heart. Samuel stopped, and the dagger fell from his hand and clattered to the ground. His eyes bulged out and blood dripped from his mouth.