“I used to roam these same streets, Edmund,” said Tobias, looking out the window, “begging for leftover food at estates like these. I would be lucky if someone would even open the door.”
“The world is an unfair place, my friend,” said the Duke, looking at Tobias, trying to read his expression. But Tobias’ gaze was fixed on the road outside their window. He didn’t reply, choosing to stare at the road in silence. The two friends smoked their pipes, neither saying a word until the night grew old. It was then that there was a knock on the door. “Enter,” called the Duke. The same man that had taken their horses from them entered the room.
“My Lord, you have been summoned by the House of Lords tomorrow morning,” he said, bowing.
“Thank you,” said the Duke, “you may go now.” The man proceeded to back away, but the Duke suddenly stopped him, “And listen, if any beggar may knock on this door, give them whatever leftover food we may have.”
“Of course, My Lord,” said the man, a baffled little smile on his lips as he exited the parlour.
“I will retire to bed now, Tobias,” said the Duke, getting up. “The guest chambers are ready for you. It’s a long day tomorrow. We would better be well rested.”
“Aye,” said Tobias but stayed where he was.
The Duke shrugged and exited the parlour, leaving Tobias to his thoughts. He walked to his chambers and got into bed. Wondering what Abigail would be doing at that time of the night, he soon drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 11
Tobias woke up at the break of dawn, as was his habit. He only slept the bare minimum and was always late to bed but rather early to wake up. Exiting his chambers, he went down to the small stables next to the estate. The stable master was up, catering to the only four horses inhabiting the small enclosure; two of them that he and Edmund had ridden down from Northumberland the night before.
“Are the horses well rested?” he asked the stable master, approaching him.
“Aye, well rested and well fed, sir.”
“Very well. Prepare their saddle and harnesses; we are to depart for the Palace within the next few hours.”
“They will be ready, sir,” said the man, “you have naught to worry about.”
Tobias nodded and walked towards the exit of the stable opening to the street. He looked up and down the narrow winding road, empty but for a lamp extinguisher going from street lamp to street lamp, extinguishing the small flames lit up in the glass windows high up in the air. He watched the man use a hook at the end of a long stick to unlatch the door of the glass top and then flip the stick around. The other side of the stick was a stub ending in a piece of cloth tied tightly to the rope with nylon. He dipped the cloth in a bucket of water at his feet and raised it to lightly extinguish the small oil lamp on top. Using the stub, he prodded the door close and moved on to the next lamp.
Tobias watched him for a while, going from lamp to lamp until he turned the corner on the end of the street and exited his line of sight. The profession had always intrigued him. The same man would also go street to street at night, lighting these lamps with a long torch dipped in flammable oil. These men spent their days labouring through odd jobs like construction, painting, and even paving roads. At the break of dawn and dusk, they went around the city lighting and extinguishing lamps. To Tobias, these men served the Kingdom and the city in a much better way than the Crown ever could.
Walking back into the estate, he decided to head for the dining room with the intention of breaking his fast. There, he found the Duke sitting at the head of the long table, buttering a crumpet. He was surprised to see him up so early in the morning. Edmund was one who would not wake until at least five hours of daybreak. The Duke looked up as he approached.
“Ah, Tobias!” he said in greeting, “This chambermaid asked me if she should send up a boy to rouse you, but I said, ‘You do not know Tobias Harding; he probably woke up before you did!’ and ’lo was I right.”
“You seem to be in a cheery mood, Edmund,” said Tobias, taking a seat next to him, “is there some good news that you haven’t shared with me?’’
“Nay, my friend,” said Edmund, suddenly turning serious, “I be worried sore, Tobias. The hearing is today, and that snake, Harold, must have the house in his grasp. He would not have served less than two weeks of a sentence for what he did if it was otherwise.”
“And yet you make merry as if ’tis your name day,” he said dryly.
“Just to distract me from my own wandering thoughts and fears,” said the Duke, taking a small bite of the bread, “I fear I might lose everything today.”
“Hopefully, all will be well,” said Tobias, grabbing a crumpet from a basket on the table.
Two hours later, having eaten their fill and changed into attire suitable for a Royal hearing, the two men exited the estate and mounted their horses that waited for them on the street. By now, the city was in full roar, with wagons and horse and mules and pedestrians populating the paved roads of the city. The two men navigated through the rush on the streets and headed for the Palace. The towers of the Palace of Westminster were visible from the far corners of London as they loomed over the dingy house and inns that cluttered the city. Approaching the Palace, the two men declared themselves to the guard outside who immediately proceeded to have the huge wooden drawbridge lowered over the moat that surrounded the Royal building. Entering the Palace, the two men dismounted and walked towards the hall of the House of Lords. As they turned a corner, the two men found themselves face to face with Lord Walder in deep conversation with none other than the Earl of Aldrich, Harold Blakemore.
“Ah, My Lord Duke Edmund,” said the Earl with a sneer, greeting them with a mock bow of his head, “and Tobias Harding, always a pleasure. So good of you to join us on this fine morning.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Lord Earl,” said Edmund, “I see your nose has healed well.” Edmund grinned as the Earl fumed, a very strained and thin smile on his lips.
“Duke Edmund,” said Lord Walder, extending his hand in greeting, “Welcome to the Palace of Westminster.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” said Edmund, graciously shaking the elderly man’s hand. “When will the proceedings of the hearing commence?”
“As soon as the four of us get settled down, of course,” he said. “Come now.” With that, he walked towards the doors of the hall gesturing at them to follow him.
Edmund and Tobias followed the pair as they entered the hall first. Tobias had borne witness to enough Royal hearings to know how they would proceed. Lord Walder walked up to the rafters and took a seat next to the other Lords of the House. Tobias noted that he would act as speaker of the hearing. Edmund headed for the chair in the centre of the room while Tobias sat behind him, detached from the hearing. He was merely there to observe. To his disgust, Earl Harold walked up to him and promptly sat next to him.
“Tobias Harding,” he said with a grotesquely wide smile.
“My Lord,” said Tobias, returning the greeting.
“How fares the castle of Northumberland?”
“Fares well, My Lord.”
“And the darling Duchess Abigail, is pregnancy doing her well?” he asked in a slick voice.
“She’s well, too, My Lord,” said Tobias through gritted teeth.
“And that boy,” said the Earl, his smile growing wider, “Pip, as I recall. Has his wretched self learned his lesson or must I find someone else to execute for his shortcomings?”
It took all of Tobias’s willpower to stop himself from hurtling at the Earl, fists raised. Instead, he just clenched his hands and through gritted teeth replied, “He is well, too, My Lord.”
“Good,” said the Earl and turned to face the house.
Only then did Tobias relax himself. Taking a deep breath, he crossed his legs and waited for the hearing to commence. It wasn’t long before Lord Walder called the house to order and announced the accusations against the Duke.
“The accused is charged with dese
rtion and disobedience of a Royal decree. Before he is given a chance to defend his case, we shall have a witness to reaffirm the charges. Captain?” he said, gesturing to a man on the left who looked very familiar, “If you could address the house and bear witness to the accusations?” The man slowly stepped into the light, and with a jolt, Tobias realised who the man was. “If you could introduce yourself, Captain?” asked Lord Walder.
“Aye. I am Captain Bard Roper of the sixth regiment of the King’s army.”
“And what have you to say to the house, Captain?”
“The accused, Lord Edmund Egerton Arundel, was assigned to lead the sixth regiment against the French assault when the Lord Wellington was too injured to fulfill the role. Lord Edmund arrived at the battlefield with his cavalry and took charge. However, the man called Tobias Harding came seeking the Lord due to some civil insurgency in his castle, and the Lord Edmund decided to abandon his post and rush home.”
“Was he well aware of the consequences of his actions, Captain?” asked Lord Walder.
“Aye, My Lord, he was.”
“And did he take his cavalry with him?”
“He left behind a couple of hundred men, My Lord. The rest he took.”
“Very well, Captain. That will be all,” said the Lord. Captain Bard bowed to the house and then backed off to stand beside the left wall. “Duke Edmund, what have you to say for yourself?” asked the Lord, turning to Edmund.
“Nothing but that the issue raised was of utmost importance. The Earl that stands witness to this hearing threatened my castle, my people, my wife, and my unborn child. No power would have bound me to stay at my post.”
“So you plead guilty to the charges?” asked the Lord.
“In the sight of God, I do. But I pray that the house would consider the circumstances of–”
“The circumstances are irrelevant to the crime, Duke Edmund.”
“But surely, they are not, My Lord,” said Edmund in protest, “The King’s law states–”
“I know very well what the King’s law states, Lord Edmund!” raged the speaker of the house.
“Then you should also know that in certain circumstances, a man may abandon his post!”
“Only to save the life of the good monarch of this Kingdom or to thwart a direct threat to the Kingdom itself!”
“And a civil uprising is not a direct threat to the Kingdom?”
“There was no threat.”
“Except a civil uprising of a man who illegally marched on and occupied a sovereign castle? I had due cause to believe that someone so power hungry could very easily march on the capital city itself!”
“Lord Edmund!” shouted the speaker of the House, “you go too far. The man you accuse of such heinous crimes has been cleared of all charges. Do you mean to question the rulings of the House?”
“No, my Lord, but …”
“We shall hear nothing more from the accused,” said Lord Walder, holding up a hand to silence the Duke.
“This is my favourite part,” muttered the Earl into Tobias’s ear, making him cringe away from the repulsive man.
“In light of the accusations against the Duke Edmund Egerton Arundel and the law laid down by the King’s decree, the house finds the accused guilty. Through past precedence, the house proposes the following sentence: The accused be stripped of all lands and titles that he currently holds and to pay a fine to the Royal treasury for his transgressions. The lands and castles held by House Arundel will be momentarily given to House Blakemore to run as they see fit until the Crown decides the fate of the estate.”
Tobias and the Duke Edmund stood up in unison, shouting words of protest and injustice. The Speaker’s voice drowned theirs out as he screamed, “All those in favour?” The two men could do nothing but watch helplessly as an overwhelming majority of unsteady and reluctant hands rose into the air, sealing their fate.
Lord Walder brought a wooden hammer down on the table in front of him and called the matter closed. Edmund turned around to face Tobias, shock and defeat etched on his face. Tobias stared back, at a loss for words at how things had turned out; both men, however, were painfully aware of the Earl Harold standing over them, smiling brightly.
Chapter 12
Abigail paced in the orchards of Northumberland, deep in thought. To someone watching her, she would look as if she had not a worry in the world and was just out for a stroll in the orchard, seeking fresh air. The truth was that Abigail was feeling more apprehensive and anxious than she had ever before. The sun hung low in the sky over the horizon. She had expected to hear of the Duke’s hearing by now, but no rider had arrived. Every time she heard something in the courtyard, she would run for her window, expecting a city rider at the gates, and she would always return to her bed disappointed. Nurse Daisy had witnessed her doing this when she brought Abigail her daily medicine.
“How many times have you run to the window and back, My Lady?” she asked, looking at her curiously.
“I don’t know, Daisy,” she said dismissively. “A few times, perhaps. I await news from the capital.”
“Aye, you do,” the nurse replied, “as do all of us, to be honest. But you must stop, My Lady. It is not good for your health. When the rider comes, you will be the first to know.”
“But–”
“No buts, My Lady,” she said. “I would suggest you take a walk in the orchard. Calm your nerves and get away from the clamour of the courtyard. When the rider comes, I’ll make sure the message reaches you immediately.”
Abigail had protested, but the nurse had refused to back down, threatening to report to Edmund that she had not been taking care of herself. Thus, Abigail found herself in the orchard, walking around the pathway. The fresh air and the chirping birds had made her feel better, but the apprehension had returned the minute she thought of the hearing. It was then that Pip came running to her, clutching a letter in his fist and calling out her name. She wordlessly took the letter from him and tore open the seal to reveal an official looking piece of parchment. She read it through and immediately felt weak in her knees. Her head spun as her vision blurred. The last thing she saw was a flock of birds flying away towards the west before she collapsed to the ground.
When Abigail woke up, she found herself in her bed in the master’s chambers. Nurse Daisy was hovering over her, a wet towel in her hand. The room was lit with candles; night had fallen. She saw that the doors of her wardrobe were wide open and, oddly enough, empty. Her scented candles were also absent from the foot of her bed, and her shoes were not where she kept them either. The room seemed oddly bare. Confused, she turned to Daisy who had hints of tears in her eyes.
“Daisy?” she asked in a weak voice, sitting up, “What is it? What in heaven’s is going on.”
“Royal guards came with the message, My Lady. Announced that the Lord Edmund was no longer Duke of this castle, and that we were now subject to the Earl Harold,” she said in a defeated voice. “They prepared a wagon, My Lady. You are to leave tonight. All your things have been packed away.”
“Daisy!” she exclaimed, grabbing her by the shoulders, “Where am I to go?”
“London, My Lady,” she said. “To the Duke’s private estate.”
“Oh heavens,” she sighed, standing up. “How could things go so wrong?”
“Stay seated, My Lady,” said the nurse, putting a hand on her chest. “You gave us quite a scare when you passed away earlier after reading the Royal decree.”
“I’m fine, nurse,” she said. “Let me up so I can see to this.”
She pushed away the woman and got up. Exiting her chambers, she descended the stairs and walked to the courtyard. Just as Daisy had said, a wagon awaited her, laden with trunks, most definitely filled with her belongings. She walked up to a Royal guard standing closest to her; he paid her no attention as she stood in front of him.
“On whose authority were my belongings disturbed in such a manner?” she asked in a dignified manner. The guard refused to
even look at her. “Answer me!” she demanded.
“I believe I can answer all your questions, my Lady,” said a voice from behind her. She looked around to see a man dressed elegantly in royal robes. He wore a breastplate with the shield of arms of the Royal Kingdom. “My name is Sir Edward Gareth; I have been sent by the House of Lords to escort you to London.”
“On whose authority?”
“The House of Lords, My Lady. And I carry a message from your Lord husband.”
The knight proceeded to hand over a rolled up piece of parchment he dug out from a pocket. Abigail grabbed it from him and unrolled it. She immediately recognised the Duke’s slanting handwriting. The short letter read:
My Dearest Abigail,
I am afraid that a crisis is upon us. The House has ruled severely in the favor of the Earl Harold Blakemore. I say this with a heavy heart but Northumberland is no longer our home. The good knight, Sir Edward Gareth will escort you to my estate in London. Trust him and no one but him. He will protect you. I shall explain everything when you get here. I wish you a safe and easy journey.
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