Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “And you have known this all along?”

  She shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “Only since my father came to Eynsford two weeks ago. He told me what had happened and explained to me that it was my duty to marry well so that I could provide for him and my brother, so my brother could stop this murder spree. He made it sound as if it was my responsibility to fix the situation. That was why I was coming home, Val. It was my intention to return to Durley to see if something about the farm was salvageable, something that would feed my father and brother so that my brother would stop committing these crimes. Meeting you was purely accidental, I assure you, but you fell into my father’s plans quite well. He saw in you salvation for him and marriage for me. He also saw marriage to your mother as an added bonus.”

  If Val didn’t think he could be any more shocked, he was wrong. All he could think of was his mother warning him about McCloud and how the man seemed envious of Selborne and all that Val had. My God… was my mother right? Val began to reel with the wider implications of Vesper’s confession, on how he’d been too trusting of an old friend he’d not seen in years. Situations change; people change. Wasn’t that what his mother had been trying to tell him?

  “Then you knew,” he said raspily, “and you did not tell me. That means that all of this… everything we have spoken between us – has been a lie.”

  Vesper shook her head. “Nay,” she insisted softly. “Everything we spoke of was true. My feelings for you are true, Val. Never doubt that. But I am selfish – I wanted you and your adoration. I knew that if I told you about my father and brother, you would see how low my family has become. Even though I have not had any part of their dirty dealings, I knew you would see me as part of that situation. I knew it would change your feelings for me and I could not bear it. I was simply hoping all of this would fade away and it would be something we would never have to discuss, but I see that I was wrong. My brother has been ruining my life ever since I was a small lass. He continues to ruin it, now ruining my future with you. I apologize that I did not tell you any of this, of my father’s schemes and my brother’s crimes. I was hoping to fix such things so you would never have to know.”

  Val just stared at her. She was calm in her confession but he could see how emotional she was about it; pale and quivering. But he was so confused and upset that he didn’t know what to believe.

  Was she even telling the truth now?

  Or was she trying to manipulate him?

  “Whatever you think of me, Val, do not think poorly of Vesper.” McCloud finally found his tongue. “What she says is true, all of it. She has no part in my dealings. She did not even know about them until I went to Eynsford.”

  Val looked at him. “Then your son really did murder people?”

  “He did.” It was a painful confession for McCloud. “But Vesper… she is a righteous and accomplished young woman, much too good to be related to someone like me. She deserves you and you deserve her, so do not judge her for knowing about this situation. You will blame me; I should have told you but I could not. I was ashamed and frightened to. A man will do most anything to protect his name and his family. I fear that I have lost my sense of moral character.”

  Val’s gaze moved to McCloud, hearing the man’s words and feeling both rage and pity; rage at McCloud for lying to him, pity for Vesper, but anger at her as well for not telling him what she knew. He was so torn that he could hardly think straight. As he stood there, his body so tense that he was grinding his jaw, Vesper removed her necklace.

  “Here,” she said, extending the jewelry to him. “I cannot keep this. I will not keep this. I am sure your mother would love to have it. You need not tell her how you came into possession of it.”

  Val looked at the very expensive necklace she was extending to him. “Vesper….”

  “Take it. If you do not, my father will take it from me and sell it back to the jeweler for the money. It will feed him and my brother for the next year.”

  Val still wouldn’t take it back, indecisive, but Vesper wouldn’t wait. She opened her fingers and let it fall to the ground before turning away and fleeing through the crowd. Val bellowed after her.

  “Vesper!” he roared. “Vesper, come back!”

  Vesper ignored him, pushing through people, running past the palfrey she’d ridden from Selborne. She was running wildly, trying to escape the horror she’d been forced to confess. Val grabbed McCloud.

  “Go and find her,” he commanded. “Bring her back.”

  McCloud was torn; a fleeing daughter and a captured son. He didn’t know what to do. “My boy….”

  Val cut him off. “Leave him to me. Find Vesper. If even half of what she says is true, then you owe her at least that. What has happened to the man I once knew, McCloud? Since when did you become so dishonorable?”

  McCloud knew he deserved the harsh words. Val would have done less damage had he physically struck him. Beaten, devastated, McCloud simply did as he was told, following Vesper’s path as Val watched him go.

  Thoughts of Vesper were echoing through his mind, rattling his brain with the shock of the entire situation. But something at his feet caught his attention and he reached down to pick up the necklace where it had fallen. Looking at the necklace and pondering what he’d been told, all he could manage to feel was confusion and devastation. Devastation for Vesper, for him, and even for McCloud. He’d always had a great deal of respect and admiration for McCloud.

  A man will do most anything to protect his name and his family.

  Val couldn’t even relate to that. To lie? To hide the truth? Nay, he couldn’t relate to that at all. He couldn’t imagine falling so low that he’d do anything to save himself. And Vesper… poor Vesper, not seeing her father for so many years only to be thrust into the man’s desperate scheme.

  I was hoping to fix such things so you would never know.

  Something told him that she was telling the truth.

  But he couldn’t focus on that now, as much as he wanted to. He had a situation on his hands and men were waiting for his judgment. Still clutching the necklace, he returned his attention to St. Lo and the weeping prisoner.

  Val took a good look at Mat d’Avignon; shaggy, dirty, stocky, he barely looked human. He looked like an animal, in fact, and fully capable of doing what his sister and father said he did. He took a step in the man’s direction.

  “Are you Mat d’Avignon?” he asked in an authoritative tone.

  The prisoner was weeping profoundly. “I want to go home!”

  “Tell me who you are.”

  The prisoner either didn’t understand the question or didn’t want to answer. “Where is my papa going?”

  It was obvious to Val that everything he’d been told was true – this was McCloud’s son. Hearing the man speak, it was also clear that he was, indeed, a simple-minded man. His speech was slurred, inelegant.

  “Matins d’Avignon,” Val said, louder. “Did you murder children this morning?”

  Mat continued to weep, trying to see where McCloud had gone. Val moved so that he was blocking Mat’s view of the crowd and of his father, so he was the only thing filling up Mat’s vision. He grabbed the man by the chin and forced Mat to look at him.

  “Did you kill those children this morning?” he asked again. “Answer me.”

  Mat looked at him as if he didn’t understand the question. “Where is my papa?”

  “Your papa is not returning unless you tell me what happened. What did you do this morning?”

  Mat understood the threat of his father not returning. In fact, the young man had been living in terror for the past few weeks, ever since his father left him. He didn’t understand why McCloud had to leave and he was terrified of being left alone, so he was obsessed by his recent glimpse of his father. His world. But he took Val’s threat very seriously.

  “They… they had food,” he finally stammered. “I could smell their food!”

  “What did you do?”

  �
��I was hungry!”

  “What did you do?”

  Mat frowned, confused by the question, trying to remember what he’d done. He was so frightened that he could hardly think. “I took it,” he said. “They hurt me. I hurt them back!”

  “You killed them.”

  “They hurt me!”

  “What about the others you killed? Do you remember them?”

  Mat’s brow furrowed as he seriously considered the question. “They would not give me their food,” he said. “I wanted it. They would not give it to me.”

  “So you took it.”

  “I took it.”

  “This is not the first time you have stolen. Do you remember how many people you have stolen from?”

  Mat couldn’t grasp that question. He began to whine again, panicking. “Where is my papa? I want my papa!”

  It was all Mat was capable of saying. To Val, he had his confession but he was greatly distressed over the situation now for an entirely new reason – he had a simpleton who was a murderer. He was coming to think that the man had no grasp of what he’d done, only that he was justified in whatever had happened. He was hungry, he took their food, they obviously fought back, and he killed them. In Mat’s mind, that was evidently all that happened and he was perfectly right to do what he did.

  But Val knew, upon hearing those words, that Mat had consigned himself to death.

  The crimes had to be punished. Val couldn’t stop that, simpleton or not, because the man had killed and that meant his punishment would be the same. The families of the victims and the townspeople who had lived in fear of becoming his next victim would demand justice.

  Therefore, Val knew he had no choice in the matter. If he balked at delivering the sentence, then it was quite possible he’d lose credibility with St. Lo. Word like that would get around and he’d be viewed as weak, or worse. It would make keeping law in Hampshire even more difficult if men thought he was weak.

  Even now, they were all looking at him, wondering why he’d even questioned the man. He could see their confusion in their eyes. That confusion would soon turn to disdain.

  The prisoner had to be dealt with.

  Val turned to St. Lo. “Before I render judgment, you said there were witnesses to the murder this morning?” he said. “Where are they?”

  St. Lo gestured to a huddled group of children several feet away. They were wet and looked terrified. “There,” he said. “Two of their friends were murdered.”

  Val made his way over to the gaggle of skinny children; half of them were wet, but they were all trembling, looking at him with utter fear in their eyes. Val looked them all over very carefully, a rag-tag group of peasant children.

  “Tell me what happened this morning,” he said. “Tell me what you saw that man do.”

  The children were huddled, quivering. A boy about eleven or twelve years of age spoke.

  “We fished at dawn, m’lord,” he said. “We often go to the marsh to fish and we caught many fish. We were cooking them and that man came out of the trees and took the fish we were cooking on sticks. He just started eating them. When we tried to stop him, he pushed my two young brothers into the marsh. They couldn’t swim, my lord, and he went into the water and held them down. Then he tried to do the same to us but some people from the village heard our cries and came to save us.”

  Val was listening seriously. “Then you saw him drown your brothers?”

  The boy nodded, wiping furiously at his eyes, as he didn’t want to be seen weeping. “Aye, m’lord.”

  That was all Val needed to hear. He had what he considered a confession and now he had witnesses. There was no doubt as far as he was concerned. He turned to St. Lo, standing beside him.

  “Then we must render punishment,” he said quietly. “Move the crowd back and away.”

  St. Lo seemed surprised. “Now?” he asked. “You will not announce a time?”

  “Nay.”

  “But what of the bishop? He will want to know.”

  “We have caught a murderer. That has been confirmed. Why would you delay carrying out his sentence?”

  St. Lo was still surprised at the swiftness of the command but he didn’t question further. He began barking orders to his men, who shoved the crowd back from the prisoner. The two men standing on either side of Mat kicked out his knees and forced him to kneel.

  “I will get the ax,” St. Lo said. “It is at my house. I will send a man for it right away!”

  Val shook his head. “Nay,” he said, putting a hand on the broadsword strapped to his side. “I will use my sword. This man is a simpleton, obviously, so I am not entirely sure he understood that what he was doing was wrong. I will therefore grant him a measure of clemency and use my sword rather than an ax. It will be swifter and cleaner that way.”

  St. Lo peered at him curiously. “You will execute him personally, my lord?”

  Val sighed faintly, hating the sound of what he had to do. “Aye,” he said. “It is my sword. Only I will use it.”

  “Shall we at least send for a priest to pray with him?”

  “Nay. There is not enough praying that can save that man’s soul after what he has done.”

  St. Lo shut his mouth after that. De Nerra was delivering swift and brutal justice. He left Val’s side, going to help his men push the crowd back as two of his men remained with the prisoner, keeping him down on his knees because he kept trying to rise. Mat’s wailing filled the air, adding to the harrowing atmosphere.

  The truth was that Val wanted to carry out the sentencing swiftly for one largely predominant reason – McCloud and Vesper were not in view of it. That was his primary reason for doing it so fast, for not sending for a priest. It would take time, precious time, and give McCloud a chance to return with Vesper only for them both to see what he had to do to their son and brother. It was a small mercy he would give to them, handling the execution himself so there would be no torturously long execution with a sloppy axman and to do it when they couldn’t see it.

  But there were other reasons. Even though Val suspected Vesper’s relationship with her brother was not a good one, he doubted their budding relationship could survive her witnessing him execute her brother. It would be a stain always between them and even if he couldn’t overcome her lack of forthrightness in the long term, he didn’t want her to end up hating him.

  That wasn’t something he could stomach.

  Therefore, he looked around one last time to see if they were near and, not seeing them in the crowd, he unsheathed his magnificent broadsword. Sharp as a razor, it was more than up to the task that would soon be asked of it. The crowd was jostling around, trying to gain a better look at what was to come as St. Lo’s men held back the throng. Val knew he had to act. There was no more time to delay. Taking the hilt in both hands, he came up behind the kneeling prisoner.

  God forgive me for what I am about to do, he prayed silently. He felt so much angst and sorrow and confusion that it was difficult to push it all aside. Was he doing the right thing? Was he rushing through this? He tried to imagine if this was someone else, someone who wasn’t related to a woman he was coming to adore. Would have acted so hastily? Probably. With such evidence, there was no reason not to. It was that realization that give him the confidence to do what he needed to do.

  The men guarding the prisoner backed away as Val approached from behind. Mat’s head was still lifted, still searching the crowd desperately for his father, having no idea that death was stalking him.

  But that last glimpse of his father was not to be. Mat never even knew what hit him; one moment, he was looking for his father, and in the next minute…

  Nothing….

  CHAPTER NINE

  Vesper was halfway down the Street of the Merchants, where the jeweler stalls were located, when McCloud caught up to her.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded, reaching out to grab her arm. “You are not leaving until you and I discuss what has happened.”

  In tears, Ve
sper yanked her arm from her father’s grasp. Standing in the middle of the street as they were, she didn’t care who saw them. So much of what they’d tried to keep private had come out, so there was no privacy left to be had.

  No pride left to salvage.

  “There is nothing to discuss,” she hissed. “Your evil has finally caught up with you. I am glad Val knows; glad, do you hear? I am going to return to Eynsford and pretend I do not have a father and a brother who murder and steal. I am going to forget about everything over the past few weeks and if you do not leave me alone, I will tell Lord Eynsford about you. I will tell him what a despicable creature you are.”

  McCloud had his entire world rocked that morning and was in no mood for his daughter’s dramatics. Reaching out, he grabbed her by both arms now so she couldn’t get away.

  “Listen to me, you foolish wench,” he muttered. “Regardless of what you told Val, he has sent me after you. Do you know what the means? It means that he still cares for you. It is very possible that he will forgive you. I will not let you ruin your life because you hate me. If Val will marry you, then so be it. I will not see you again. But do not run from a man who still wants you.”

  Vesper was wrought with such anger and grief that she could hardly hear her father’s words.

  “Damn you,” she snarled, trying to pull her arms free. “Damn you for coming back into my life with your schemes and horrors. Why would you do this to me? I was happy at Eynsford; I had respect and a good position. And you came and ruined it all! I shall never forgive you!”

  McCloud was having a time keeping his grip on her. Vesper was strong for a woman, that strength now fed by her anger at him.

  “I do not care if you do not forgive me,” he said. “But if you want to salvage your life and not live with regrets for always, then think about what I have just told you – Val still cares for you. I believe he will forgive you. You had no role in what has happened and he will understand that with time. Are you going to throw that all away in a fit?”

  His words were starting to sink in. Vesper’s struggles lessened but she wouldn’t look at her father. The sight of him sickened her. She was convinced that everything was ruined and her only thought was to leave this place, to run back to the safety of Eynsford. Perhaps there, she would forget about the dark-haired, green-eyed god that was Val de Nerra. Perhaps in time, she could convince herself that he had been a dream and nothing more. But she was in such agony at the moment that it was difficult to think clearly.