Lion Heart

by A. C. Gaughen

  “Unlawful?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.

  “The king pardoned her actions, but John would not release her. I am quite displeased with him,” she said grave.

  Essex frowned.

  “Perhaps you would escort her for a short walk, your Grace. It so helps her strength, and yet I don’t like the idea of her walking alone in such a weakened state.”

  I scowled. “Eleanor, I surely—”

  “Very well,” Essex said, glaring now at me.

  Eleanor nudged me, and Margaret smiled gentle at me as I walked around them, clamping my mouth shut tight to take his offered arm.

  “Lead the way, my lady,” he said.

  I drew a breath and led him.

  We didn’t speak for a long while. We left the cloisters through the arched walkways, and went out to the church garden that neighbored the graveyard. The sun ducked behind a cloud, and I envied its ability to do it.

  I looked at his hard stone face and sighed. “Why did you agree to walk with me?” I asked.

  “My queen asks, and I do her bidding,” he told me.

  “Yet you take the princess’s word over hers and form a low opinion of me,” I said.

  He glanced at me. “She said you spoke like a wild thing.”

  I swallowed. “I don’t always.”

  “She said you were cruel to her.”

  My brows drew tight. “Never with intention, my lord. She and I often disagreed, but she was also one of the few women who ever had an opinion. I liked that about her.” I wanted to tell him that she mocked me, that she were cruel to me and never the other way round, but I hardly thought that would sway him. “Besides, I always rather thought she and I have an enemy in common.”

  “Enemy, my lady?” he said, leaning his head to me with interest.

  “Do you know how I came to lose my fingers?” I asked him. “Did she ever tell you that?”

  “Just that you didn’t have them,” he told me.

  “Prince John cut them off me,” I told him soft. “He asked my husband to hold me still, and he cut them off with a knife. Because I displeased him.”

  He looked straight ahead, a muscle bunching up in his jaw. “That has nothing to do with Isabel,” he said, defending her.

  “Perhaps not,” I said. “I am not in her highness’s confidence, and I would never ask you to betray such to me. But I’ve known cruel men. They are cruel to anyone who cannot fight them back. And I cannot imagine Isabel has never witnessed that, even if he wouldn’t dare hurt her.”

  Essex looked at me, his eyes heavy, dark, and guarded, and I wondered if Prince John had ever hurt Isabel.

  He looked ahead, and his throat worked. “I was not under the impression you were someone who could not fight back.”

  I lifted my shoulder. “He took my fingers. He tried to murder me,” I said, and Essex’s face jerked to look at me. I looked at him. “I can fight back. But more importantly, my lord, what I can never do is give up.”

  “He tried to kill you. A lady of the court. A royal.”

  I nodded. “And I’m sure he will try to make a liar of me—he’s clever, and he planned this, while I never had such luxury. But yes.”

  “He knew of the pardon?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

  “But he knew of your relationship? He knew he is your uncle.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a wonder he didn’t fear Richard’s reprisal. I cannot imagine the king will take well to that.”

  I looked at him. “It is a wonder,” I said back, slow and meaningful.

  He drew a breath, looking ahead again. He let it out slow. “Do you know of any plans to that end?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “Not so concretely.”

  “You cannot win against Prince John if you do not win Isabel,” he told me.

  I frowned. Were she that powerful? “Why?” I asked.

  “Because if you don’t win her, you cannot win me. No matter what danger it might save her from, I won’t betray her friendship.”

  My brows lifted.

  “And without me, you won’t hold against him.”

  I nodded. “Well, I thank you for your honesty, sir.”

  He glanced round, his eyes catching to the north. I followed his gaze and saw a cloud of dust rising on the horizon. “Another noble has answered her call,” Essex said. “Allow me to lead you back.”

  I nodded.

  CHAPTER

  Two others arrived. They were Hugh Bigod, the son of the slightly more elderly Earl of Suffolk, and, looking particularly frantic to ensure the safety of Eleanor’s ladies, Winchester. I watched as Eleanor greeted him and his eyes fell to Margaret the whole while. Margaret looked at him in the same warm way, but it were shy and unsure now. Since that man put his hands on her.

  A storm rolled in on Winchester’s heels, and as much as I wanted to leave, I weren’t in a state to risk being ill by riding all night in the rain. Eleanor bid me to stay for dinner, and I obeyed.

  Eleanor dismissed much of the pomp and circumstance that her guests should have observed. She called for a modest dinner with the abbot and her attendants and guests.

  “How do your counties fare, Winchester?” Bigod asked him.

  “Better than most, my lord. They have survived the tax without incident, but times are very difficult. We’ve opened the castle stores to help those who can’t find enough food,” Winchester said. He glanced at Margaret, and she smiled at him, proud of his efforts.

  “You must guard yourself against abuse,” the abbot warned. “In these dark times it is easy for someone to take advantage of such generosity.”

  Winchester shook his head. “Surely you’ll agree with me, Abbot, but as long as I have the ability to share such largesse, it is my duty to offer it to my tenants. Let them take advantage if they will; it is worth the chance to help those truly in need.”

  The abbot nodded, but continued, “We must not, however, contribute to the delinquency of man. To tempt a weak-willed man is to abet his crimes.”

  “With respect, there is no crime when it is about food, Abbot. Not in my mind—or my shires.”

  “You would not persecute a thief for stealing bread?” Essex asked. “Or certainly not you—but your guards and knights and sheriffs in your stead?”

  Winchester leaned back in his chair a little, looking at me. “No. It has been made apparent to me that if one of my tenants feels he must steal, I have failed him. Not that he is a criminal, a danger to us all, or an outlaw. He steals because there is an injustice in the system.”

  “Sometimes,” I argued. “But some people just like to see things broken and destroyed.”

  He nodded slow. “And I will see those men stopped, my lady Princess.” His eyes fell to my hand, and I snatched it off the table like he’d burned me.

  “You said better than most,” Margaret asked, her voice quiet and shy. “Is England faring poorly?”

  “Yes,” Essex said. “Port towns and those with heavy trade are surviving, but crops did not fare well this year. People are close to starving, and with this tax—well, many cities have had riots.”

  I nodded. “I saw the riots in London. Worse, I saw how the people failed to resist in Silchester.”

  Bigod looked worried. “My lady, you were unharmed?” he asked.

  “She barely escaped London with her life,” Eleanor said. “And in Silchester, she helped the people.”

  I shook my head at her. “I was no hero there, Eleanor. I dare say my knight and”—how to describe Allan?—“my companion were more help than I was.”

  “There are more riots?” Bigod asked.

  Essex nodded. “Yes. Our people seem to have gone rather mad,” he said.

  “They aren’t mad,” I said. “They’re starving. They’re confused. And the nobles will not help them; Winchester’s behavior seems strange and out of place, and it is—but that is what the noble class is pledged to do. Nobles must protect their people and use
their power, wealth, and influence to do so.”

  “And unfortunately, much of this pain cannot be avoided if we are to bring Richard home,” Eleanor said.

  “We will,” I told her.

  “How should we proceed?” Winchester asked, drinking his wine. “With so many able lords at your disposal?”

  I glanced at him. “I’ll head north at first light for Nottingham,” I said.

  Winchester nodded once, understanding. “My lady, would you allow me to escort the silver you’ve already collected down to London?” he asked. “I will take half my men and see it locked safely in the treasury.”

  “Has the court returned to Westminster Palace?” I asked.

  Eleanor nodded. “The riots have stopped, and Windsor isn’t nearly as fashionable.”

  “Bigod and I can stay with you, my lady Queen, and repeat the task as you amass more contributions,” Essex offered. “With our companies, of course.”

  “Very well,” Eleanor said. “And Winchester, you will return and report back to me.”

  “As you wish, my lady Queen,” Winchester said, dipping his head to her. When he raised it back up, he looked at Margaret.

  It made me burn for Rob.

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t travel alone, Lady Marian,” Margaret said soft.

  I looked to her.

  She were looking at her lap. “If the queen isn’t safe, for certain it won’t be safe for you to travel, and not with the prince . . .” She trailed off, looking round. Bigod didn’t know the prince had tried to kill me.

  “I have two men who will protect me better than a company of knights can,” I assured her. “Speed and the ability to keep our heads down will serve me well enough.”

  “What route will you take?” Eleanor asked. “And I wish to be informed the moment you arrive in Nottingham.”

  “Most likely west to Oxford, up through Northampton and Leicester. I imagine we’ll stay out of cities as best we can.”

  She glanced round the table, but she nodded thoughtful to me.

  After dinner were finished, Eleanor brought everyone to sit by a fire in the abbot’s quarters. On the way there, Margaret tugged me back.

  She drew a breath. “I don’t want you to leave your grandmother because of what I said. Forgive me if I was more frank than is appropriate. I had hoped we could be friends, and more than that—I wish you would ride with us. I don’t—I don’t want to go—”

  Her chest were heaving hard and she wouldn’t look at me, and my heart snapped. I tugged her to the side, pulling her to me and putting my arms around her, awkward one moment and fierce the next. “That’s what the new knights are for. You’ll be well protected on the road, especially with Winchester’s knights looking out for you. I was fair shocked he will leave you to go to London at all. You’ll be lucky to go anywhere alone again,” I teased her.

  She shook in my arms. “I didn’t tell him,” she whispered. “I haven’t had a moment alone, and the words—I don’t know how to say such words.”

  My heart sank. I should have known that, that she needed to talk to him in private. I could arrange such a thing, and I hadn’t thought to. “Come,” I said. “I will find a way for you to be alone with him.”

  She shook her head. “No. Not now—he’s right, he needs to take the silver to London. But he’ll come back, and I’ll tell him then.”

  I nodded. I pulled back from her, and she sniffed. I pulled my knife out, and put it in her hand, pushing her fingers to hold it right. “Keep the knife Winchester gave you in the carriage. Hold it like this. Remember, any man will be surprised that you fight back at all, so just jab this wherever you can and scream yourself hoarse. All right?”

  She nodded, handing my knife back to me. “I will.”

  I tucked it back into its hiding spot.

  “You don’t know—I can never thank you—” she started, her face crumpling again.

  “Hush,” I said, smoothing her tears away. “You can’t cry, or Winchester will wonder what’s wrong.”

  She nodded, drawing a ragged breath. “Are you going to return to him?” she asked. “Robin Hood?”

  My blood thrilled, and I had to nod. “I will always return to him. I can deny it all I like,” I told her in a whisper, “but when someone holds your heart, it’s impossible to stay away.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “I know this as well.”

  I smiled back, wrapping her arm round mine. I drew her forward to join the others, and when we walked into the room, I found Winchester’s eyes on the door, restless and worried.

  They met hers, and she nodded once, and he nodded back.

  I wondered if this were what Rob and I looked like—this secret, quiet language. Love clear enough for everyone to see.

  Essex and Bigod were looking overhard at the fire, and I reckoned they saw what I saw. Eleanor beamed.

  “Margaret, you look frozen. There’s a seat close to the fire by Winchester,” Eleanor said. “You must take it.”

  Winchester dropped his head and gestured for her to take it. She sat, and he sat beside her, and Eleanor smiled.

  “Meddlesome woman,” I murmured to Eleanor as I sat beside her.

  “Meddling is my very favorite thing, Marian,” she murmured back.

  Early the next morning, I changed into men’s clothing and made quick for the stables, asking the hands to ready my horse and leaving my pack bags with them. I went to the barracks, hearing drunken laughter loud inside. For a moment, if I shut my eyes, it were like I were walking into Tuck’s, and Rob would be beyond the door, Much would be bothering Tuck, and John would be alive.

  Opening the door, I quick remembered it weren’t Tuck’s. The small group of men chasing spirits to the early morn went quiet, and a few of the more dutiful ones jumped up to attention. The others followed slower.

  “Are Allan and David in here?” I asked one of them.

  “They left,” he said.

  “Left?” I demanded.

  His shoulders lifted. “Forgive me, my lady. They keep to themselves most times.”

  I frowned. “Which way?”

  He pointed, and I thanked him and left. I went out to the yard, toward the gate.

  Rounding the edge of the building, I heard a grunt and Allan rushed past me, tripping and falling flat on his back. “Goddammit, David!” he roared, touching his mouth, which were trickling blood.

  “You—” David stalked toward him and they both caught sight of me. David went still and pale, and Allan groaned as he got himself off the ground.

  “Gentlemen,” I drawled, crossing my arms.

  “He started it,” David snapped out quick.

  “I’ve no doubt. Are you two drunk?”

  They shook their heads. I couldn’t smell the reek of alcohol on them, so I reckoned it were true.

  “Care to tell me what this is about?”

  Allan looked to David, and David looked back at him. It were Allan that shook his head. “No, fair thief.”

  “Are you two able to ride?”

  David’s face were growing red now, and I wondered if Allan had landed a punch of his own. “Yes, my lady,” they both said.

  “Good. We leave as soon as you gather your horses and belongings.”

  “Yes, my lady,” they said again.

  Shaking my head at this new lunacy, I went back to the stables as they went into the barracks to fetch their things.

  CHAPTER

  We went up to Bath, and from there tried to stay off the main roads to make Oxford within two days of leaving Glastonbury. We would have stayed out of cities altogether, but we needed more food, and we were less likely to cause a stir in a large city than a tiny town.

  Oxford were a huge city. It were close to London in size and activity, but it weren’t on a major waterway, just a river to carry goods in and out. We made the city by midday, and entering the city were strange—there weren’t many people about, and those we saw turned their eyes from us quick.

  “What the h
ell is going on?” David asked.

  Allan looked to me. “My lady, I’ve several contacts here, if you’ll allow me?”

  I nodded to him. “Go find out.”

  He turned his horse down a narrow street inside the city gates.

  David and I continued on, riding toward the huge spires of the cathedral at the center of the city. Not far from the grand building, we heard shouts. Awful shouts, terrible cries of pain, punctuating a dark silence.

  I spurred my horse, and found a large group of people that parted for the big beast coming up behind them. I slowed my horse as I broke into the circle. There were at least thirty people on their knees, staring at the ground with huddled bodies and tied hands, and in front of them, a man with a back of vicious red, bleeding stripes screamed as the whip struck down on his back again.

  I leapt off my horse. “What is this?” I bellowed. “Who are you? What are you doing to these people?”

  The victim collapsed against the whipping post as his torturer turned to me. Without words, the older man snapped his whip at me.

  It cracked on the bit of my shoulder that ran into my neck, and I clamped down against the pain, twisting back as David jumped in front of me with his sword drawn. “Drop your weapon!” he roared.

  “How dare you two interfere with my justice?” the man snarled.

  “This looks nothing like justice,” I returned. The cut at my neck burned and I felt damp trickle on my skin. “I demand to know your name.”

  “I am Lord Robert D’Oyly,” he snarled. “Master of Oxford Castle and the constable of this shire.”

  “And why are you treating your people like this?” I stared around at the large, silent crowd, with eyes that wouldn’t meet mine, and wondered how the people could be so still as their loved ones were hurt. There were no other knights, no guards, just the people outnumbering this man and unwilling to act.

  “They refuse to pay the tax. They will be punished for failing to serve the Crown!” He turned back to the quivering man in front of him, and raised his whip again.

  “Stop!” I roared, running in front of him and pushing him back.