“I will tell Sabine. When do we leave?”
Before he could remove his hand, Conrad clasped it in his own.
“You are a good man. Sabine is as lucky as you are, brother.”
When Conrad released him and stood, Guy didn’t move. Nor did he get up when the earl opened the chamber door and left. He sat there, thinking of the discussion he was about to have with his wife, with whom he’d only just reunited.
The days ahead would be dangerous. They could be caught at any time. She risked her life as surely as the four of them did, every day from this day forward.
And yet . . .
He smiled, standing.
They would do it together.
Epilogue
“An abbey,” Guy whispered. “Seems fitting we should find ourselves here, does it not?”
“We’re being watched,” Sabine whispered back, her attempts at keeping Guy quiet not very successful.
They stood with some of the most powerful men in England in this small abbey, waiting for Conrad to speak. As was his custom, her husband refused to submit to the seriousness of the situation. Instead, he leaned toward her as if to whisper something but instead kissed her just behind the ear.
None saw it happen as they were positioned near the back left of the chapel. Conrad stood near the altar, Terric sat behind them and to the right, and Lance had chosen a seat directly in the middle—each of their order placed strategically so nearly every man in the room could be reached quickly. She’d asked Conrad if he really believed one of their own would turn against them. After all, these men had risked their land and titles, their lives, to be here on this cold November day.
“If one or more is actually loyal to John and not the cause, I would be prepared for it,” he had said.
According to Guy, it was a part of Conrad’s nature to be suspicious, but she supposed such caution was necessary when plotting treason against the king.
“We are not being watched,” Guy whispered back. “Everyone watches Langton. I don’t believe they thought he would really attend.”
But the archbishop of Canterbury was indeed present.
As were more than twenty barons and six earls, including Conrad and Terric. She spotted Noreham as they took their positions, and Sabine recognized a few of the men, friends of her father’s, including Fitzwalter.
And, of course, she was only one of two women.
Seeking out Lady Idalia, Sabine caught the other woman’s eye. Idalia was always quick to smile, and she did so now. Sabine had never met a nicer woman. From the day they met nearly a fortnight earlier, they had hardly stopped talking. About their husbands. Their families. The order. Their roles in it. Guy had asked her that morning if she was prepared to part with the other woman.
Indeed, she was not, but the order’s plans required it. They fully anticipated John would send forces against them after this day. So they would disperse to two different locations, both of which could withstand a lengthy siege.
Lance and Idalia with Terric in the north. She and Guy with Conrad at Licheford.
For once this oath was taken, they were at war with their king.
“I believe we are ready,” Conrad’s voice boomed. She could not see him from her vantage point, but Sabine did spy Langton through the crowd. She watched as he made the sign of the cross, the others in this small chapel at Bury St. Edmunds doing the same.
“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.”
Sabine bowed her head in awe at the sudden and complete silence. When Guy reached for her hand, she gave it to him gladly. The seriousness of this moment suddenly scared her. Of course, she’d known all along what they were doing. The day Noreham’s men had come for Guy wrestled in her brain with the memory of learning her parents were never returning home.
But the past two months had also been so full of love and joy. Though they’d not stayed in one place long, Sabine found she didn’t mind at all. She was becoming accustomed to the life they would hopefully someday lead when all of this was behind them and Guy had his own mercenary company to command.
When he was finished, Guy released her. And though he did not move his hand to the sword at his side, she knew him well enough to know he was preparing for the worst.
“We gather here today,” Conrad boomed, “to pledge an oath upon this altar. The charter that we’ve altered together, the agreement that we’ve forged . . .” He paused, and Sabine exchanged a glance with Idalia. “It will be presented to our sovereign. It is the will of all those present for King John to accept the Charter of Liberties, a proclamation of King Henry, here modified by each of us. And if he will not”—she could see Conrad now through a break in the crowd—“we will gain the support we need to remove him as our king.”
Somehow, even after all the discussions they’d had over the past weeks, Sabine wasn’t prepared for his words.
Every man, and woman, in this room was now an enemy to King John’s rule. This day would become a part of history, though Sabine had no idea on which side they would land.
The victors?
Or the defeated?
“Come.” Guy pulled her hand once more.
She hadn’t heard the rest of Conrad’s words, but at Guy’s insistence, she followed him toward the front of the chapel. One by one, those ahead of them placed a hand on the altar and repeated the same words.
But Lance, Idalia, Terric, and Conrad had not yet done so.
They stood to the side, as did she and Guy when they finally made their way to the front.
Finally, it was their turn. As one, they placed their hands together upon the altar, with Langton looking on.
Conrad led the recitation and they joined in:
“Ut suscitem iuramentum est iurare per Deum invoco hodie datum est.”
So it was done.
And just like before, when they’d entered the chapel, Sabine endured less than friendly glances from some of the men, with the exception of Robert Fitzwalter, who apparently had no qualms about women being involved in this endeavor. His secret smile as he walked by made her heart swell thinking of her father. Sabine caught up with Idalia.
“We need to get them away from here, and swiftly,” Lance said.
Idalia looked back to her husband.
“If a blacksmith and a mercenary belong, surely we do as well.”
They stood to the side at the front of the chapel as the men filtered out.
“Surely, though I do not believe all who are present agree with you.”
Idalia did not appear concerned.
“Some would say ’tis not so coveted, a place at this gathering.”
“And others,” the Scot replied, sidling up to them, “would say ’tis the most coveted gathering of them all.”
Terric Kennaugh, chief of Clan Kennaugh and Earl of Dromsley.
Sabine had met him just the day before. The man was massive. Bigger than all of the others. He did not smile as easily as Guy, though thankfully not as rarely as Lance. Sabine had asked her new friend how she endured her husband’s seemingly never-ending frowns.
“That,” she’d said in response to Sabine’s jest, “is Lance’s happy face.”
The women had laughed so hard Sabine’s stomach hurt.
“Aye, so coveted hardly any remain just moments after taking their oath,” Idalia quipped back.
Indeed, everyone had been quick to leave the chapel. Some had already fetched their mounts while others spoke softly to each other. The mood was as somber as the cold, grey day.
Sabine remained silent. She didn’t know the clan chief well enough to comment. Instead, she listened to his easy conversation with Idalia, who’d come to know him quite well over the past months. It still shocked her that four such different men had become so close.
They were brothers, and Sabine was grateful Guy had found them. He needed this bond more than the rest, with perhaps Lance as an exception. She knew he’d never truly gotten past his mother’s desertion. And his father . . . e
ven Guy had no idea if he was in England or France, though Guy assured her he’d turn up one day, as he always did.
These men, the order, were his family.
And now they were hers.
“So quiet, lady wife.”
She hadn’t seen him coming.
“Just thinking of . . . things.”
“Can we think of things on the way to Licheford?” He shivered, pretending to be cold, although Sabine knew it hardly bothered him. Guy had told her that he was accustomed to all varieties of weather, fair and foul, having campaigned in the outdoors most of his life.
No one cares about the conditions when they secure a mercenary for a mission, he’d said.
“I feel that you have an ulterior motive, husband,” she said now.
His smile confirmed that he did indeed.
“We’ve just committed ourselves,” Terric said, “to the most treasonous act imaginable, and you’re concerned about bedding your wife.” He rolled his eyes. “At least all is normal where Guy is concerned.”
Their laughter attracted the others, Lance and Conrad joining their small group as the last of the men dispersed.
“It is done.” Lance took Idalia’s hand.
“Langton agreed to deliver the missive.”
The missive demanding John treat with them.
“You will send me with him?” Guy asked.
Conrad stood closest to the chapel wall. He leaned against it as if he were in no hurry to part ways. “Aye.”
The group fell silent. That the archbishop would also be bringing the message to John was a bold statement, to be sure.
“The man has bigger bollocks than you, Guy,” Lance said.
Sabine tried hard not to visualize Guy’s bollocks just then. And failed. She guessed her cheeks reddened because the laughter only increased, with Sabine swatting Terric on the arm.
“I hope your sister does come to visit. Someone needs to tame this big brute.”
Sabine looked at Guy as he explained, “Cait has not been to England, to Dromsley, since . . .”
“We’ve much to do.” Lance pulled Idalia close. “Now that the oath has been taken, we have as much support as we’re likely to receive.”
“Not all of it.” Terric nodded his head toward the north. “My brother is sending men to Dromsley.”
“No.”
They all said it at the same time.
“This is not your clan’s fight,” Lance said.
Terric did not appear to agree. “But it is mine. Which makes it theirs too.”
The mood had shifted and Sabine wasn’t sure why. It was only after the group had finished discussing their plans and parted ways that she was able to ask Guy what had happened back at the chapel.
They rode south, to Licheford. Conrad and two of his men rode ahead of them, far enough that she felt free to speak openly.
“What happened back there? Why does no one want Terric to bring his men to England?”
“’Tis complicated.” He slowed and rode closer to her. “What happened that day we met, to Cait . . . he’s never forgiven the man who attempted to rape her.”
“The one who’s dead?” Sabine was not attempting to be flippant, but she found it hard to understand.
“It . . . affected her. Cait loved attending that tournament. Bradon Moor is isolated, their closest neighbors a three-day ride away. After that year, she stopped coming. Has never been to England or Dromsley since. Which is why we were surprised at the possibility she would do so now, especially in the midst of, well, all this.”
“I can understand that, but what does it have to do with Clan Kennaugh?”
“Some believe, including Terric’s brother Rory, that he should not be involved in our fight. But since that day . . . his hatred for the king’s men, even though it was a different king then, runs deep. He sees John’s abuse of power as part of a larger problem. That too much power brings out the worst in men. Some don’t see the connection—between Cait’s attacker and the current king’s abuses. But Terric sees it clearly.”
“Clearly enough”—she understood now—“to risk men his brother believes should remain in Scotland.”
Guy nodded. “Aye.”
Sabine whistled, or tried to. She’d never been good at it. “Is Dromsley really the best place for Idalia amidst all of this?”
His look was sympathetic. “We’ve no notion of where John might lash out first. If he does not agree to meet and decides to make war against his own men, we are all targets. Licheford. Dromsley. Every one of those men who gave their oath back there could see their land or lives taken at any moment.”
She knew all of this, but . . .
“Licheford and Dromsley are both well fortified. They are as safe as anywhere.”
Despite it, she worried for her new friend. The borderlands were dangerous even without the hostile inner workings of a clan chief at odds with his own people.
Guy had stopped so suddenly, she didn’t even realize what he was about until he’d dismounted. Shouting ahead for Conrad to continue, he reached up for her, and just like that, Sabine was in her husband’s arms.
Their mounts danced around them, both pairs of reins in Guy’s hands.
He kissed her, hard. And Sabine did not hold back.
When he was finished, she gave him a questioning look.
“This talk of treason and death . . . it will consume us if we allow it.”
“I just worry for Idalia . . .”
“As I worry for you. But she has Lance, as you have me. On this day and every one after it.”
Sabine smiled. “I will not be blackmailed by a nun. Do you remember? ’Tis one of the first things you ever said to me.”
Guy laughed. “I remember it well. A beautiful, saucy nun whom I would soon call my wife.”
“I had no one. And now, to be a part of this family that is your order—”
“Our order.”
“We will get through this together.”
Guy kissed the tip of her nose. “Indeed we will, lady wife.”
And then he smacked her on the backside, reminding her that it was no civilized gentleman she had married. But she had something better. Her very own mercenary.
* * *
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Also by Cecelia Mecca
The Border Series
The Ward’s Bride: Prequel Novella
The Thief’s Countess: Book 1
The Lord’s Captive: Book 2
The Chief’s Maiden: Book 3
The Scot’s Secret: Book 4
The Earl’s Entanglement: Book 5
The Warrior’s Queen: Book 6
The Protector’s Promise: Book 7
The Rogue’s Redemption: Book 8
The Guardian’s Favor: Book 9
The Knight’s Reward: Book 10
Border Series Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
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bsp; Border Series Book Set 2 (Books 4-6)
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Falling for the Knight: A Time Travel Romance
Bloodwite
The Healer’s Curse: Bloodwite Origin Story
The Vampire’s Temptation: Bloodwite Book 1
The Immortal’s Salvation: Bloodwite Book 2
The Hunter’s Affection: Bloodwite Book 3
Order of the Broken Blade
The Blacksmith: Book 1
The Mercenary: Book 2
The Scot:Book 3 (Coming 2019)
The Earl: Book 4 (Coming 2020)
About the Author
Cecelia Mecca is the author of medieval romance, including the Border Series, and sometimes wishes she could be transported back in time to the days of knights and castles. Although the former English teacher’s actual home is in Northeast Pennsylvania where she lives with her husband and two children, her online home can be found at CeceliaMecca.com. She would love to hear from you.
THE MERCENARY Copyright © 2019 by Cecelia Mecca
Cover Design by Kim Killion @ The Killion Group, Inc.
Edited by Angela Polidoro
All rights reserved.
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The Mercenary: Order of the Broken Blade Page 16
