by Julia Latham
As the day came to a close, and the final night was upon them, all seemed to settle into a serious frame of mind. Now was the time for utmost concentration, for they had League forces to face, her father’s men to get through—and another unnamed foe who wanted them stopped, perhaps dead.
To keep all guessing as to their whereabouts, they’d remained well east of the River Lea, which marked the boundary between Essex and Middlesex, the shire surrounding London. They would have encamped in a wooded copse, as usual, but the sky grew dark well before sunset, signaling a storm. The wind picked up, swirling so much dirt that Florrie had to slit her eyes. The horses twitched with nervousness, and she felt like she could no longer see the holes in the road to avoid. It was as if nature was conspiring to keep them from London.
When Robert returned from scouting duty, Adam called above the wind, “We have to stop for the night!”
Florrie’s horse resisted, dancing as she gripped the reins. She petted its neck soothingly.
“I’ve spied a cattle shed in the distance,” Adam continued. “We will cross the fields and hopefully find gates through the hedges.”
It seemed that they spent a long time crossing pastureland, opening and closing gates behind them. At last, as the first drops of rain hit, they pulled open the door to the wattle-and-daub-framed structure. Although it was piled with long bundles of hay, there was just enough room for four horses and four people. The was a lantern inside, and they had to leave the door open while Michael tried to light it, first using his flint and steel to start a stalk of hay burning. It was dangerous work, for the wind whipped into the shed, putting out every fire. But at last, the hay smoldered, and he was able to light the candle with it. Once the lantern shield was closed, giving off light, they put out the small fire with water from their skins, then closed the door on the storm.
Outside their shelter, the wind howled its fury and rain began to lash the roof. They could hear thunder in the distance growing ever closer. Florrie began to resign herself to getting little sleep, at least for a while.
The horses huddled together nervously, and the humans did the same. Adam told Robert and Michael that he was no longer going to challenge the marquess to combat.
Michael studied him, while Robert gaped.
“You’ve changed your mind,” Robert said, “just like that?”
“It has been coming on a long time,” Adam said slowly. “At last I saw that someone’s death was not a good enough answer. So I will confront him and learn the truth.”
“And what if he does not wish to give it to you?” Robert asked.
“I will help persuade him,” Florrie said with conviction.
Adam glanced at her, but didn’t reply. She felt the slight, and told herself that he was simply focused on his plan.
“And how are we to react if Martindale responds with force?” Michael asked.
“We defend ourselves, of course,” Adam said. “But I would prefer if few people are injured. If I can find no satisfaction with Martindale’s answers, we take our facts to the king.”
At that there was stunned silence.
“Surely I can help you find satisfaction speaking with my father,” Florrie said.
Adam looked at her gravely. “That will not be possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“I do not want you to be there.”
She gasped. “But that was the sole reason you took me from my home!”
“’Tis different now that I will not be challenging him.”
“But I have a right to confront him, too, after the way he’s abandoned me!”
A sudden crash of lightning seemed to shake the shed.
“You are impressive when you’re angry,” Adam said dryly.
“’Tis God, saying I am in the right.”
“Or the wrong,” he countered.
She glared at him, and he returned her gaze with that impassivity that might drive her mad.
With exasperation, Robert said, “Florrie has the right to make her own decision. Just as you have the right, Adam, to change your mind. But you should have consulted me.”
Adam frowned.
“I am your brother, with equal to lose.”
“Forgive me,” Adam said stiffly. “I was thinking about—” He broke off.
Robert waited until another boom had echoed through the night. Lifting his voice, he said, “I know why you changed your mind. And I agree with you. I just prefer to be consulted.”
“And so do I!” Florrie agreed.
Robert lifted an eyebrow. “You did not know about his change of heart?”
“Oh, well…aye, I did.”
Robert shook his head with a sigh, and Adam rolled his eyes.
She continued, “I meant consulted about future plans—like Adam thinking he could tell me I had to stay behind. Wouldn’t I have been in more danger alone?”
“I would have asked Michael to watch over—”
“Do not bother,” she said, lifting her chin. “After everything I have been through on this journey, I am seeing it through to the end.”
Florrie felt Adam’s resistance, knew he wanted to protect her, but she could not back down. At last he nodded, just as another flash of lightning shone through the shutters. The thunder and lightning had picked up speed, occurring only moments apart. The horses had grown more and more restive, and Michael went to comfort them. There was a succession of loud booms and flashes, and in the small confines, one horse jerked with fright, catching Michael between it and another. Michael’s breath left him in a grunt. Adam and Robert jumped to their feet, and Florrie tried to follow, but Adam pushed her into a corner.
“Stay here,” he ordered. “They could seriously harm you.”
She nodded, hugging herself.
The three men stood among the horses, holding them tight by their halters, talking to them, but not much could be heard beyond the pounding of thunder and the sizzle of lightning. The roof had begun to leak in several spots, one of which was right where Florrie was. She took a step to the side and shivered.
Adam held her horse as well as his, and with another flash, hers reared wildly, just missing Adam with its flailing hooves. She could not stand aside and watch a tragic accident. Wrapping her arms around her horse’s neck, she spoke soothingly, comforting with the tone of her voice as well as her steady hands. Shivering, the animal at last quieted.
They stood with the horses for another hour, until at last the storm began to subside. The thunder moved into the distance, taking with it the worst of the lightning.
Florrie straightened, her hand on her lower back, and smiled at Adam with confidence. “And if you think I’m good with horses, wait until you see how good I can be with my father. You need me. You know nothing about him or how he’ll react.” She thought again about how crazed her father had acted that night of his illness, when he’d showed her the proof of his illegitimacy. For years, she’d told herself it was the fever that had made him talk about the priest’s ghost, but somewhere inside, she couldn’t be certain.
Adam gave her a short bow, smiling. “Aye, my lady, you have won my consent. And we have all won our rest. I think the horses will be only too glad to sleep.”
Halfway through the morn, Michael guided them through the fens that encroached upon the River Lea. The river had separated where it crossed the low marshland, and there were several bridges, all well maintained being so close to London. Adam, who’d planned to hire guides along the journey if he hadn’t had Michael, was glad for his knowledge.
But bridges meant people, and excluding the Thames, this was the main road to London from Essex. So there were far too many people. Now that they had supposedly ruled out Bladesmen or Martindale’s men following them, Adam felt uneasy and constantly on guard. Who else knew or cared what they were doing? Could the Crown somehow have gotten wind of Adam’s plan? Perhaps King Henry did not care what Martindale had done in the past, as long as he was a loyal supporter now. For the king had
never met Adam’s parents, and might not consider their deaths as relevant to his reign’s uneasy peace.
As soon as they were over the last bridge, Adam debated turning south, away from the main road to London, but there were now so many people, that the crowd proved a defense of its own. Adam decided that they would have to risk the final two leagues of the journey out in the open. They ate their midday meal in a crowded village tavern, and after journeying another hour, they could see the walls of the city in the distance and the spires of towering churches. Adam had never seen anything so massive, and he saw Florrie’s mouth sag open when she first realized what she saw.
The road they traveled was soon lined with cottages, thickening as they approached the city. They passed beneath Aldgate, Michael told them, a massive many-storied building arching over the road in between the curtain walls that protected the city at night. A headless body hung from the battlements, and although Adam saw Florrie flinch at the sight, they did not have much time to look up. Traffic slowed to a crawl beneath the gate, and did not improve inside. When they saw an empty stretch of road, muddy from the previous day’s rain, they had to aim for it, weaving past horses and carts and coaches. A flock of geese being driven in for slaughter startled many a horse.
Adam, Robert, and Florrie rode side by side, with Michael behind. Almost shouting to be heard above the many sounds of merchants hawking their wares, and animals protesting, Adam said, “Now is when men will be looking for us, though I fear there is not much they can do. Be on your guard.”
His eyes were focused everywhere, searching for someone paying too much attention to them. There were timber-framed buildings lining the road, two and three stories high, each story wider than the one below.
Michael had told Adam to head straight into the city along Lombard Street, where they would eventually run into Martindale House, a mansion in an older parish. Just past Trinity Priory, the street widened a bit where Aldgate branched off of Lombard. It was there that a sudden sound from behind made the voices of the crowd rise. People started flowing wildly to each side of the street, pointing behind Adam’s party. He turned in the saddle to see a troop of knights galloping straight toward them, ignoring the wild cries of people trying to get out of their way.
There was too much purpose in their movement. Had they been waiting just within the gate, hoping to spot Adam’s party?
The panicked crowd surged around them, and Adam had to detour around a coach. Fighting to control his horse, it took every inch of his strength to rejoin his party.
And he could neither find Robert, Michael, nor Florrie. He stood up in his stirrups, trying to see over the mass confusion around him. The horsemen had thundered past, but now they were wheeling around, fighting against the carts and horses and pigs.
Robert expertly guided his horse past two grinning boys running through the street. He pulled up hard next to Adam. “Do you see them?” he shouted.
Adam shook his head. “The coach separated me from all of you.”
“The knights forced me off to the right, and I got caught up in a group of women carrying baskets of laundry. Damn, but this city is busy. Do you think Michael is with Florrie?”
He had spoken the question that Adam feared. “I hope so.”
“The knights are returning,” Robert began. “I will head down the street on the right—”
Adam cut him off. “’Tis too dangerous. You need to stay with me and—”
“Cease, Adam! You cannot protect me for the rest of my life. Just like last night, you’re still treating me like a child, from not consulting me about important decisions about Martindale to being too controlling.” He lowered his voice as much as he was able. “You do not have to be my father. Just be my brother.”
Adam felt something tighten in his throat as he thought of leaving his brother at the mercy of such a city. He’d felt the same way when Paul left them.
But Robert was right. Adam was still trying to make his decisions for him—too keep him safe. But Adam could no longer take on such a responsibility. Florrie was the one who needed him now.
The knights had almost completed their turn and, more haphazardly than their first thunderous approach, were beginning to head for them.
“Let me go to the right before you move,” Robert said, controlling his horse as it danced in a circle. “We look enough alike that if they’re truly watching for us, they might follow me. Where will you go?”
“To Martindale House. Michael would take her there.” He prayed fervently that she still had Michael.
“I’ll see you there!” Robert called, giving a wave as he wheeled his horse about and aimed right for the horsemen.
Adam headed for a side alley. The horsemen seemed surprised by Robert’s bold move, and broke ranks before he could hit them full on. In the confusion, many turned to follow Robert, but Adam saw no more.
He had to find Florrie.
Chapter 23
A coach maneuvered sideways in traffic, blocking the road so quickly that Florrie didn’t know what to do, causing her horse to rear up. She flung her arms around its neck so that they wouldn’t topple over. Then there was a man with a sack on his back, gaping up at her from practically beneath the horse’s front hooves. She pulled to the left and somehow missed the man’s skull. He shook his fist at her, but he was soon swept away with the panicked crowd.
She couldn’t see Adam, Robert, or Michael anywhere. She’d been forced to react to the fleeing of the throng, simply to avoid hitting anyone. Before she knew it, she’d been led from the main street and into a smaller one, where the crowds had fled to safety. The buildings were far closer together here, leaning almost precariously over the street itself, as if a stiff wind could knock them together. A sewer ran down the center of the street, and the smell was so bad she felt nauseated.
And now more men were noticing she was a lone woman on a fine horse. She could not afford to wait for Adam to find her, she realized. She was on her own.
She knew she had to get back on Lombard Street, but the knights might still be there. Two men nudged each other and started toward her. As she galloped right for them, the well-trained horse didn’t break stride as they both fell to the wayside in surprise. She kept to small alleys, dodging people and ducking merchants’ signs. She passed a man held captive in the stocks, his back bloodied as he waited out his sentence. London was a fearsome place, crowded and filthy, with cramped streets that twisted in upon each other. But she had lost her pursuers.
At last she was back on a wider, paved road, and she could see market stalls manned by women as well as men selling their produce from the countryside. After dismounting, she led her horse near them, and was able to ask for directions. It took more than one person’s assistance, but at last a woman wearing a yoke across her shoulders, milk pails hanging from it, who had sold cheese directly to Martindale House was able to describe where it was.
When Florrie reached the mansion, she was confronted by gated walls far above her head, manned by guards. She wished she were brave enough to casually ride by and look inside, but the guards could have been given her description, knowing her father. She couldn’t risk it. So where the walls took a turn down an alley, she dismounted, kept her horse behind her, and watched for someone from her party.
This was certainly a better neighborhood, since no one accosted her. Was it the presence of Martindale guards nearby? She was able to wait for what seemed like at least an hour, watching the shadows lengthen.
“Katherine?” a man’s voice called her false name from behind her.
Hardly daring to hope, she turned around and saw Adam riding toward her. Her relieved grin surely matched his, for he dismounted swiftly and swept her into his arms.
“You are safe,” he whispered against her ear.
“And you.” She leaned away and looked up at him. “When we were separated, I could only hope you would come here.”
“Smart thinking,” he said with approval.
“Mayb
e not so smart, if we cannot outwit the guards at the gates.”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “You forget whom you are speaking to, my lady. I have not come all this way to allow a few soldiers to stop me.”
“Should I simply announce myself? I am the master’s daughter.”
“I debated that, but we are too many servants removed from your father yet. We do not want to give him enough warning that he can have us dealt with before we reach him. I have been examining the rear entrance. Follow me.”
They mounted their horses and rode back along the length of the wall, then turned down the alley. Except for a servant entering the metal garden gate of the mansion across the alley, they were alone. When the woman had hurriedly closed the gate behind her, Florrie looked at Adam.
“Our gate is locked,” he said, “but ’tis of little consequence. Come to me quickly.”
Confused, she rode as close to him as possible, and was surprised when he pulled her across his lap.
“Stand up,” he said. “I’ll hold you. You should be able to reach the top of the wall.”
Never had her uneven legs been asked to bear her weight so awkwardly. Not wanting to disappoint him, she used one leg to stand up on his thigh, and the other for balance. The top of the wall was chest height.
A lush garden spread out before her, and she could hear the gurgling of a fountain somewhere out of sight. A stable loomed to her left. There could be grooms working within, or gardeners among the flowerbeds.
“What do you see?” he asked tightly.
“A garden, with no one in sight.”
“Then you need to straddle the wall and look below, to see what could break your fall.”
“Break my fall—!” But she bit her words off, determined not to question him.
“Do you need to be boosted higher?” he asked from below.
“Nay, but I will jump, so be prepared.”
She gave a start as she felt his hand on her rump. She pushed off, and with his help, she found herself braced straight-armed on the wall. She swung a leg over to straddle it, then sighed with relief.