Justice of the Root

by Abby Gordon

  Looking about the room, she started by opening the cupboard door and drawers. That would be for the lady’s dresses. Hope she doesn’t have much baggage. Near the hearth was a small chamber pot and pitcher and mug on a narrow table. Checking both, Rose was pleased that the pot was empty and scrubbed clean while the pitcher was full of water. Next to the pot was a small stack of cloths. Moving on to the hearth, she peered up to make sure it wasn’t blocked, then continued to the windows. They were also clean and she leaned as close as she dared, delighted to see a bit of the rear gardens. At the bed, she was even more careful about the condition of things. The lady would be sleeping on it so she made sure the feather mattress was thick enough to protect her from the rushes underneath. Rose lifted the dark blue blanket. Under the wool was a light brown sheet. Brushing her fingers over the cloth, she stared. It might not be the fine Reynes linen the Queen was rumored to sleep on, but Rose knew it was finer than anything she’d ever touched. And this is in a lower ranking room? Sir Walsingham must have had them brought in. Or perhaps his lady wife? Smoothing the wool back down, Rose rubbed it slightly. It too was of higher quality than the room warranted. Why would someone whose rank demanded these goods be in such a lowly room? It is nice, with its own hearth and a bit of the garden view, but very few ladies at court that I’ve ever been around would tolerate being in such a chamber.

  A knock at the door sent her hurrying over.

  “Yes?”

  “Sir Walsingham ordered firewood and food for this room,” a boy’s voice answered. “And a girl’s here with your things.”

  Cautiously, ready to slam the door shut or scream if she needed to, Rose unlocked the door and peered through the crack. Two youths, one about her own sixteen and the other a few years younger, stood in the hall. Behind them, a girl Rose recognized held a satchel with Rose’s things. Reassured, she opened the door wider for them to carry the baskets in. The older went directly to the hearth and began laying the wood down. Tess handed her the satchel and scurried out. The second glanced about the room.

  “You need a table,” he told her as Rose put her things on the floor next to the cupboard. “And a couple stools. We can bring them up if’n you like.”

  Rose considered that. Walsingham hadn’t said anything about more furniture, but there was only the one chair. The lady would obviously use that and what were she and the lady’s attendant supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

  “Excellent idea,” she decided with a nod. “Bring them up.”

  “And the food?” he wondered.

  Taking the basket, she grinned. “It won’t hurt her to know we put it on her chair until you bring the table up.”

  He nodded eagerly as Rose put the basket on the chair. The first started the fire and got to his feet.

  “We’ll be back as soon as we can,” he told her, eyes eagerly roaming Rose’s slender body. “When is the lady arriving?”

  Instinct told her not to tell him the truth.

  “I expect her at any time,” Rose answered steadily, hoping to prevent him from acting on his thoughts. “So, if you could bring the table and stools up quick as you can?” she prompted, going to the door and holding it open.

  “Careful, luv,” the youth told her, strutting out of the room. “You never know when you’ll need a friend. And I can be a very good friend to have.”

  “I’m not sure the lady would be pleased about that,” Rose smoothed over, realizing he was right. Let’s not upset anyone in the new surroundings, shall we? “So, I better not until I at least meet her. Know what I mean?”

  “Aye,” he agreed with a nod and a wink. “Them sort can play around all they like but seem to think we’re all monks and nuns.”

  “C’mon, Ralph,” the other boy tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s hurry with the table.”

  Closing the door behind them, Rose locked it and rested her forehead on the oak. I think my simple, honest life has ended. I’m already telling half-lies about someone I haven’t even met yet. For all I know the lady won’t give a fig about what I do as long as she has whatever she wants.

  ◆◆◆

  After the conversation with Jasper and Godfrey, Edward half-feared his father would not have him be seated at the high table at all. Yet he was, even as Jasper and Godfrey, despite their seniority in the company, the Order and York, were moved down in the lower tables. Most of the near tables, Edward realized, were filled with men he didn’t know. Men who come with my supposed bastard half-brother, he mulled in his mind as he tried to hide his expressions behind the tankard.

  That Edmund was in the manor, he knew. His arrival, with his company of men, had come that afternoon with a flurry of dust and noise as they galloped through the gates. While quite willing to show how welcoming he was, Edward’s offer to stand with his father had been rejected. His new quarters didn’t offer a view of the front courtyard, so he’d gone to his father’s office. Spying on a favored guest as if I were six again. Yet he’d also taken the chance to see what was on his father’s desk, to check on any unlocked chests.

  There were a couple odd, puzzling messages from the Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland about training, a notation to check on grain expectations and health about the sheep flocks– things which Edward knew his father had no interest in, and a note from Elder Gray about the smithy ‘slowing output, but expected to have the forge repaired by Sunday’. Edward had no time to look at the trunks as he heard his father bid Edmund come inside. Knowing the last thing he needed was to be caught in the office uninvited, Edward had hurried out, careful to close the door as quietly as possible.

  Now, waiting for his ‘brother’, Edward considered what Godfrey and Jasper had told him that morning. It had only been after entering his former room and quickly leaving before anyone caught him that Edward had realized what had not been said by the two men. The men appointed by Root William had died within a year of the Root. The Root himself had died within two years of both of his sons. The implication sickened Edward and it was all he could do not to vomit.

  Could they have really done something so wicked? So sinful? Killing their own fathers? How could they have gotten away with it? The answer to that was all too easy – while it had been a generation since any in York had died from sweating sickness, the disease had ravaged the city before. To have such stalwart and healthy men as the Root’s sons were said to have been die from it would have gone unnoticed as it didn’t discriminate in its victims. So, to have seven men die within three years would have gone unnoticed.

  Setting his tankard down, Edward felt eyes on him and looked up into the black gaze of three sitting at the end of the nearest table. Forcing himself to be congenial, he nodded in greeting before slowly letting his gaze roam the room. At their new places, Godfrey and Jasper were watching and nodded their approval. Feeling better, certain of their support even if there was no other readily apparent, Edward recalled Godfrey’s stunning words about himself.

  Have I been so arrogant? I thought I got on well with the men. That they respected me as their captain. Did Godfrey really mean it when he said they wouldn’t mind a new captain? Are they so fickle? Or was I such a poor leader?

  A flash of anger tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes before he caught himself. That’s exactly what Jasper meant. I have been too quick to take offense at criticism. And now I can least afford to respond that way. Godfrey is wise for all the Elders belittle him. He served the Root and would have learned much from him. So, then – what do my father, the two Black brothers and Gray intend for York and the Order? And then for England? Before he could speculate down that dark path, the steward appeared at the end of the aisle formed by the tables.

  “William Talbor, Elder of York,” came the announcement.

  Even as he came to his feet, Edward was a bit surprised by such ceremony.

  When they’d been guided to seats below the salt by the smirking steward, neither he nor Godfrey had said a word. All Jasper could hope was that Edward kept his wits about hi
m. At the voice ringing through the hall, Jasper stood with the others. Coming from the office near the main double-doors, Talbor and a tall, broad-shouldered man strode between the tables. The Elder was clearly enjoying the attention as he slowed his pace. The man next to him scowled as he kept his eyes on the sole man at the head table.

  This bastard looks nothing like the Elder – he’s built like a lumbering bear, though I doubt he moves slowly. Brown hair instead of Talbor black. Though he does have blue eyes. Interesting scar on his face. Wonder how he got that. Given the cold look on his face, I imagine he killed the one who got through his defenses. And everything depends on Edward not losing his temper. Angels help us all.

  As the two passed them, Jasper glanced at Godfrey’s worried expression. Yet as the two men neared the slightly raised table, Edward broke into a wide smile and came around.

  “Father, is this the one?” he called out in the loud voice of one who’s had a bit too much to drink.

  Meeting them, he embraced first his father, then clapped the other man about the shoulders. Beaming, Edward put an arm around William Talbor whose pleased expression had turned slightly sour. Jasper thought Edmund Rich looked slightly confused. That’ll work, lad. He’s not sure what you’re playing at.

  “Well, they won’t confuse us too much, will they, brother? Despite our names,” Edward joked, then seemed to catch himself. “I beg your pardon, Father. But I’ve been growing more excited since you told me the news.” Turning from his father to face most of the hall, he grinned. “I have a brother. Men of York, this is Edmund. Raise your drink and welcome him.”

  Godfrey choked slightly and Jasper caught the grin before the man drank. From around them came disjointed calls of ‘welcome’ before the whispering began. Jasper watched Edward practically herd his father and ‘brother’ to the head table, fussing a bit before waving for the platters to be carried in.

  The men seated themselves and he turned to Godfrey.

  “Lad might survive after all,” the former captain murmured under the noise around them. “Although Talbor might choke to death from his son stealing his thunder like that.”

  “Ah, twas a lovely thing to see, wasn’t it?” winked Jasper.

  “I didn’t think he’d had that much to drink,” frowned Godfrey.

  “He didn’t,” Jasper confirmed. “But I’ll bet he plays it up all night.”

  Edward did indeed act the slightly tipsy, jubilant at not being an only child fool. The York Roses all seated at the lower tables near Godfrey and Jasper were slightly puzzled but merely chuckled and shook their heads. Slowly Edmund’s scowl relaxed, especially towards the end of the meal.

  Still playing the drunk, Edward stood, and the hall fell silent. Glancing at the Elder, Jasper saw him try to pull Edward back into his seat. Raising his tankard, Edward waved it about, splashing much of the contents out. By now, the York Roses had caught on and laughed. Slapping the table, Edward pointed at them and roared back.

  “Ah, but the laugh is on you,” he told them. “For my brother will now be your captain and he can deal with you in the morning.” Turning to Edmund, he gestured with his ale, sending more flying through the air. “I get to deal with the sober, eager-to-learn lads.” He jerked his head at the tables. “You get the ones complaining about having too much to drink tonight.”

  Laughing, Edmund stood and clanked tankards with him, both drinking heartily although Jasper knew Edward had to be pretending as there couldn’t have been that much ale left in his.

  “Thank you, my newfound brother,” Edmund spoke. “For your welcome to York and the training you have given the men. Together we shall forge the best company in the whole of England. To the Queen.”

  At once, every man was on his feet, thundering back the response – to the queen.

  Jasper noticed that the Roses were loudest and in earnest. Those nearer the head table were sneering. As everyone sat down on the benches, he saw many worried looks on the faces of Roses. Feeling similar concern, Jasper had a feeling things would get much worse before they started to get better. Despite the slight contempt they might have felt toward Edward and his attitude towards them, they are more displeased at having a bastard for a captain. Especially one who brought his own men. And that is what we know of. We will need to keep an eye on new men coming into York and what they do. If this Edmund Rich brings them into the company, I’ve a dread feeling about the future.

  ◆◆◆

  Curled up on her pallet to the right of the small hearth, Rose considered the two women Walsingham had assigned her to serve. The younger woman was obviously the more important, but unlike any noble lady Rose had ever seen. Anna was regal but not cold, aware of everything around her to a degree Rose had only observed in long-serving thorns of the Order of the Rose. Alicia, the older woman who accompanied Anna, was the same, without the arrogance of her position Rose had seen in similar companions. Alicia made Rose slightly uneasy, but the maid couldn’t determine why. Alicia’s mien was more protective toward Anna than subservient. And Anna listened to Alicia in a way that nobles most definitely did not toward servants. Puzzled, Rose fell asleep, wondering just what she was getting involved in.

  Chapter Five

  Opening the door at the knock, Rose immediately dropped to a curtsey. Lady Ursula Walsingham, her dark-clad husband standing behind her, smiled graciously before entering the room and greeting Anna. Rose listened in silent shock, gathering the words into her confused mind. Lady Ursula had known Anna’s grandmother? Been with her upon hearing the news? What news? Obviously, something tragic as Anna looked close to tears before swiftly recovering. Then, with clear male relief, Walsingham left the women to their task – selecting materials for dresses. Anna’s reluctance and, Rose suspected, ignorance, surprised the maid. Bertrice, the queen’s favorite dressmaker, had indicated that she’d been given unlimited funds for whatever Anna chose but Anna had said little. It was Alicia who had made the decisions so far. Lady Ursula was a welcome arrival and things quickly moved forward with various materials selected and combined for essential outfits for whatever Anna would need.

  Soon after mid-day, Ursula murmured to Alicia who seemed to argue a moment before nodding and coming to the maid.

  “I need you to show me the way to the kitchens,” she spoke quietly. “And then to the stables. Do you know anyone who works in those places?”

  “I do,” Rose confirmed, frowning up at the tall woman. “A cousin was just promoted in the kitchens and another is a junior groom to the queen’s horses.”

  “Excellent,” Alicia smiled slightly. “Introduce me to them.”

  Puzzled, Rose nodded and lead her down the myriad corridors. Once introduced to the new assistant baker and groom, Alicia pulled each aside for a private discussion. As none of her questions had been answered thus far, Rose simply stopped asking them and followed Alicia’s directions. That evening held more surprises, even as it confirmed a suspicion. Bertrice’s seamstresses had swiftly finished a couple dresses for Anna to wear in the room, plus a very irregular outfit that instead of shocking the woman seemed to thrill her more than the feminine attire. Then a box arrived from Lady Ursula. Rose stared at the two daggers and short sword, comprehension dawning. Why were there rubies and those yellow gems on the hilts? What were those? Anna finally answered a question. She was a thorn. As her parents and grandparents had been.

  The conversation between Anna and Alicia made little sense until Rose realized Anna intended to leave the room despite Walsingham’s order. As she expected, Rose’s protest was ignored. Alicia began teaching Rose how to hold and fight with a dagger. Eager to learn, even if it went beyond the spymaster’s directions, Rose held the stick Alicia gave her and crouched, thrusting forward until her shoulder and arm ached. The soreness was worth it when the older woman smiled briefly.

  “Well done, little Rose,” she murmured. “Well done. Now, hold it in the other hand.”

  Smiling, even as the motions felt familiar, along with the
words, Rose put the ‘knife’ in her left hand and crouched slightly as she’d been told earlier.

  I feel like I’ve done this before, but that’s impossible. I’ve never fought. I’ve never trained. So why does this seem known and familiar?

  That night, after Lady Anna had safely returned, Rose snuggled under her blanket near the fire. Her dreams were filled with images of serious men and women sitting a long table discussing things she didn’t understand. One of the women was pregnant and the man next to her whispered in her ear. The woman smiled up at him with gray eyes like Rose’s.

  When Rose woke, there were tears on her face.

  ◆◆◆

  York

  “Celeste? Why can’t I go with John to train?”

  Startled first at her younger sister’s sudden arrival in the steward’s office and then by her question, Celeste Black turned from her conversation with the cook.

  “Because you’re a girl. Joan, really,” Celeste shook her head with impatience. “Have you finished that section of the tapestry? I was hoping to show Father how much we’ve accomplished when he returns.”

  “Nearly,” shrugged the sixteen-year old, sighing dramatically. “Where did he go, anyway?”

  Celeste shared an exasperated glance with the cook. “I think those spices will do perfectly, Bessie. And be ready to bake Father’s favorites when we get word of his return.”

  “I’ll have everything ready, miss,” the woman nodded before leaving her.

  Joan sidled into the room to get out of the cook’s way. Sitting down, Celeste started to make a note in the kitchen account and glanced up.

  “Joan, what is it?”

  “Well, where did he go?”

  “Joan, it is not our place to question Father’s actions and travels,” chided the older sister.