“You sure you can do this?” Faith asked. Bastion had just explained what James wanted to do. “Dee’s not going to thank you, if the whip steals her husband from her. And with what’s in her blood, and the changes she’s been experiencing, it might be wise to let her take the punishment herself.”
“What changes?”
Faith looked at Bastion and Kimberley. And the looks she got in return suggested they thought she’d said too much, far too much.
“Will someone talk to me?” James asked.
None of them looked so inclined. “Then we’re doing this.”
There was that look again, but no one argued with him.
The white stone chip of the conifer lined carriageway grated under the soles of several thousand pairs of boots and shoes as the crowd ran down through the southern garden to the palace gate. As they neared the gate James, Faith and Bastion were forced to slow at the back of yet another bottleneck. Faith called out to the duty sergeant, who was watching procedures from atop of his horse and scowling heavily as he demanded that everyone keep it orderly.
He looked over. “Milady?”
“Bring me some carria root from your stores and hurry.”
With James hanging between them its need was obvious, and the man complied immediately.
They were underneath the gate when a soldier threw open the shutter on a murder hole and called down. Once he had their attention in the crowd below he dropped a small leather package. Faith caught it cleanly and handed it to Kimberly. “This should help. Quickly, give him some.”
James was more than grateful. The pain was becoming unbearable and he chewed at the root with vigour, relishing its numbing and reviving properties.
They were almost through the gate tunnel when a small street urchin pulled at Faith’s sleeve. He was barely visible in the crush of people. “Milady, Milady.”
The boy thrust a grubby hand up at her, a crumpled message in it, and looked at James. “For ‘im, Milady.” As soon as Faith took the note, the boy vanished into the crush of people, which was struggling through the tunnel and out into the already crowded square. In the bright sunlight beyond, James could see thousands of people still pouring into Illandia’s central square from all directions. The bells of every church in the city were now tolling, or at least it seemed so to his aching head.
“What’s it say?”
Faith had handed the message to Kimberly, who was trying to open it with people jostling her on all sides. “The stables behind the Bear Pit Tavern. Come now if you want to see the threesome hang for slave trafficking. It’s not signed. But the ink is still wet and the messy hand suggests it was written on the move.”
The Bear Pit was a notorious tavern on the northern edge of the city’s central square. It was no more than a few hundred yards away.
“What do we do?” Faith asked.
“Do we have time?” James asked.
“The proclamation won’t be made until the hour bell tolls. So, yes, a little.”
“Are you willing to use your sword to protect me?” James asked Faith.
“Of course.”
“Bastion, if you would, take Kimberly with you and get to the stage. And if we aren’t returned before the punishment is to begin, delay them somehow.”
All agreed and went their separate ways. James and Faith slipped out of the crowd and hurried along the base of the palace wall towards the edge of the square. The crowd thinned as they paced through the market that occupied this part of the square. With no customers to speak of, tinkers and merchants were shutting up their stalls and hurrying to join the swelling crowd in the square beyond.
James ignored the suspicious looks they drew as they hurried in the opposite direction. Reaching the far end of the market, they crossed the road that surrounded the square and hurried along the footpath on the other side. They passed several trade shops with tenements above, before reaching the Bear Pit tavern and glancing through the dirty windows. The place was empty of patrons and the front door locked. The street was deserted, too.
“Which way to the stabling yard?” Faith asked.
James nodded down the street to a small lane. “Down there.”
Their boots slapped against cobble as they hurried on. At the end of the short lane they found the stabling yard nestled at the back of the two story brick buildings. Like many others in this part of the city, it serviced more than one proprietor and was surrounded by old brick and timber building. Apart from a dog sitting at the rotting back door to the Bear Pit tavern and a few finches squabbling in a nearby tree the cobbled courtyard and its various timber stables looked as deserted as the street they’d just left. The dog stood and barked at them as they approached.
“Anyone here?” James called, looking up at the windows that opened onto this yard.
A sharp whistle came from somewhere inside a nearby stable and the dog stopped growling and sat back down. Faith caught James’ arm before he could approach, gave him a look that brooked caution and then drew her sword and took the lead. At the entrance to the barn she eased the door open with the tip of her sword and then cautiously slipped inside. Fresh straw had been forked out across the floor and half a dozen horses watched them from the shadows of their stalls. There was also the smell of perfume. A perfume James remembered well enough from the night the Lady Winters had visited Danielle’s chambers.
“Show yourself.” Faith demanded.
A tall slender figure stepped out from behind an unhitched wagon that occupied a space in front of a smithy’s forge and threw back the hood of her robe.
“Lady Winters. I take it you know what is afoot and wish to help us?” James forced Faith’s blade down. Corenbald’s princess seemed fascinated by the striking similarity in appearance between Dee and this woman.
The Lady Winters kept her distance and bid them do the same. Her distrust was palpable.
“If you still wish to save the slaves and see to it that Lord Helidon, Lord Kane and the Archbishop are rightfully punished, you need to look for a cave one mile over the rocks from the southern end of Dara’s Cove. It’s hidden behind a stand of Larrow trees at the south end of a small pebble beach.”
“How long have you known this?” James said.
Faith was equally earnest, saying in almost the same breath, “And how did you know James would be at the palace gate just now.”
“I have my spies. And how long I have known this is irrelevant. Your priests should have looked harder.”
James did not buy that. “Your delay has seen my fiancée forfeit her memberships on her father’s councils and sentenced to ten lashes of the whip.”
Bianca scowled at him. “Don’t you dare judge me, sir. I am not responsible for this realm or the palace’s incompetence. And what I am offering you at great risk will at least see her restored to her roles and titles. I have nothing more to say. Good day to you both.”
“Then why tell us now?” Faith insisted. “Why are you helping her?”
Bianca stopped in her tracks. “Because I knew you’d come after me and I can not risk being discovered.” She turned her scowl on James. “The palace knew about the fire on the Helidon estate! How could they not guess what was afoot?”
“They did guess. The king sent the royal fleet to blockade the coast.”
“Helidon’s estate is not on water, sir. The search needed to be more thorough and swift. It is they who are responsible for this, not I.”
“Even so, we need proof that you speak the truth about this cave,” James said, seeing her point.
“You know I can’t give you any such thing. Find the cave, it will be proof enough. But you’ll need to do it in secret and in numbers; and quickly. If the Archbishop gets wind of this, you’ll have the blood of five thousand slaves on your hands, and any chance your lady has of having her rights restored will be lost.”
James knew that was true. He nodded his thanks. “I’m sure the king and my lady will be grateful for your service - more than grateful.
And you know her offer stands. She can help you.”
The lady laughed bitterly and shook her head. “It won’t matter in a week.” Tears suddenly glistened in her hard blue eyes and she backed up towards a side door. “If you love her, see her safe from Arkaelyon.” She glanced in Faith’s direction. “Go to Corenbald. She’ll be safe there.”
“What are you talking about? Is this to do with the Archbishop’s plot?” It was James’ first thought. There were plans afoot to prevent it, but still, they knew so little.
“I can not say!”
“Please, if you know something, anything?” Faith asked. Her sword was back in its scabbard.
“I can’t.” She shook her head bitterly. “I have no love for your king or Lord Protector, and I care not what becomes of them for they cared not for me when I needed them most. But save your lady and there might be hope for the realm.”
At that Lady Winters backed into the shadows and hurried out through a side doorway.
Alarmed by this latest revelation, James turned to Faith, “What do we do?”
Faith gave him a mirthless smile and drew him back towards the door they’d come in by. “I’ll talk to your king. You save Dee.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The crowd was jeering and booing as Joseph read the proclamation announcing that their lady had been expelled from the realm’s councils. To James’ mind there had to be at least twenty thousand people in the square and more swelling that number from the tree lined promenades. Past a sea of heads he could see the executioner’s stage in the southeastern corner of the grand square. It was a mere stone’s throw to the front steps of the towering Illandian Abbey, where, on the last Friday of each month any of common birth condemned of crimes were brought to face their sentences. Danielle was in chains and standing a few yards from the whipping post that occupied one end of the stage. Two church guards stood either side of her. The black robed figure of the Archbishop and a number of his high attendants were seated on the judicial bench at one end of the stage. Mr Drahage—the Church’s wiry, pox-faced executioner was loosening his whip and several of the man’s attendants were waiting for the order to chain the lady to the post. Eden, Sir Jeffery, and other knights of the prince regent’s retainer were standing at the bottom of the steps with the cart that had delivered Danielle to the stage. Much to James’ relief, Bastion, Kimberly and two of the palace physicians were now in company also.
He continued to push through the unruly crowd, making his way towards the cordon of black robed churchmen who were holding the crowd back. The bells had stopped tolling across the city, but the noise around him was horrendous. Almost everyone was hurling abuse in the direction of the stage. As he knew bloody well, this was an outrage in the eyes of the commoners. He suspected it would be more than just abuse they’d be hurling if the whip were allowed to do its work on Dee’s back. Another company of church soldiers were filing down the front steps of the abbey. Others had gathered at the mouth of the southern promenade, and behind them, men of the city guard were also forming up to quell any trouble that might arise.
The sight angered James.
His bandaged head must have been clearly visible in the crowd for as he approached the cordon Bastion and Eden spotted him and ran over to let him through. A scuffle broke out in the crowd behind him as a butcher and some of his apprentices tried to follow James through the thick line of guardsmen.
On the stage, Joseph had just stepped down from the orator’s block, and Danielle was being brought forward to offer her confession. It would be the last opportunity for her to recant her allegations and avoid the whip.
“Does the lady wish to repent of her sin?” A church steward asked officiously.
Like the crowd, James held his breath. Though he held out little hope Danielle would see sense as she stepped up onto the speaker’s block, her chains rattling. She seemed to be relishing this and that angered him too.
“It is not a sin to speak the truth,” she shouted.
A cheer erupted from the square. But before she could say more the Archbishop, who looked less than pleased with the situation, gave a nod to his orderlies and Danielle was dragged from the speaker’s block and led away to the whipping pole.
James turned his attention to the stairs where Bastion was helping Father Joseph down from the stage. The undersecretary was talking frantically in the Lord Protector’s ear, Joseph seemed at a loss. Surprise and bewilderment crossed his brow as James approached.
“It won’t work, James,” Joseph said, when they were close enough to be heard over the new chorus of boos and jeers that was pouring from the square as Danielle was tied to the pole.
“I’m still her protector. My resignation isn’t complete until I surrender the ring.”
“That’s not the problem. Danielle has to agree if another is to take her place, and she will not.”
James ground his teeth. Gods she could be such a fool at times. “I want to talk to her.”
“I’ve already tried,” Eden said. The Prince Regent clearly shared his frustration. “As her older brother I have the same right as you in this matter. She flatly refused to let me bear this punishment in her stead. This is her way of fighting the council’s injustice - her statement to the people. Plain foolishness, but the law prevents us from intervening.”
James had seen the intent in her face as she addressed the crowd.
“What about the rights of a husband to protect his wife? We may not be wed, but I have her pledge and your father’s agreement?”
Joseph thought on that for a moment and then nodded. “It might work. It is legal. But she will not love you for it.”
“Joseph is right,” Eden said. “You know damned well ten lashes of the whip will be the least of your worries if you take this from her against her will.”
“I’m willing to weather that. Might I talk to her?” James asked again. He didn’t want to think about the consequences. But they couldn’t let this happen.
Joseph consented and stepped aside so Eden could lead the way up the stairs to the stage. As soon as they reached the top, the Archbishop stood up, frowning heavily, it was obviously the first he’d seen of the conversation going on at the front of the stage.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“A protector’s right to replace his charge in punitive matters,” Eden said.
“He has surrendered his warrant has he not?”
Eden lifted James’ hand showing the protector’s ring. “That is warrant enough.”
The Archbishop gestured one of his officials forward with a jerk of his hand. The man examined the ring and confirmed its authenticity.
“Then twenty lashes. The law affords me the right to see that the punishment is just and I’ll see it is so.”
The Archbishop gestured his attendants after him and took the back steps off the stage. James got the impression that the man was relieved he was not going to have to whip the King’s daughter in defiance of a writhing mob of commoners.
Tied to the whipping post, Danielle had her back to the crowded square and as James knelt down beside her she gasped in surprise and smiled broadly with relief. “James!”
Eden and Jeffery ordered the executioner and his servants back and formed a cordon of their own around the couple, giving them some privacy.
“What are you doing here?” Her wide eyes misted with tears and he realised just how worried she had been for his welfare over the course of the week and how much she’d missed him. They also made him more determined than ever that this nonsense had to end right now. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said curtly.
Her smile faulted and her blue eyes filled with defiance. “Don’t even think about it. Go back to the palace. I’ll be there soon.” She bent her head to look up at her brother. “Eden, please see James back to the palace. He shouldn’t be here. He needs to rest.”
When her brother ignored her, she glanced back at James, and she shook her head emphatically. “No. Don’t be ri
diculous. I will not give them the satisfaction and you are not well enough to bear this.” Fear for him welled up as tears in her eyes again.
James tried to hide his annoyance and the pain her stricken look provoked in him. “Eden, might I speak to your sister alone?” The noise of the crowd had hardly subsided; though the activity on the stage; James’ arrival and the Archbishop’s departure, had lessened the boos and jeers and increased the chatter. But still, James knew this would go better if no one else heard.
When Eden complied, James said, “Have you thought this through?”
“There are slaves on the Helidon estate, James, there’s nothing else to think through.”
“You’re right. There are slaves on Lord Helidon’s estate. But using the citizenry of this city as a pawn in your little battle of wills is no way to prove as much.”
Anger clouded her face, but he refused to wilt under her glare, saying, “You do this, and how many men, women and children will be injured, perhaps killed in the riot that will ensue? And how many do you think will end up in the cells below that cursed abbey there, facing fines they can ill afford to pay, or even their own whipping come next Friday? How many?”
“I don’t know! But I will not repent of what is certainly a truth.”
“You don’t have to,” James said, more kindly. He touched her cheek and lowered his voice and said, “The Lady Winter’s contacted us again. We know where the slaves have been hidden. Faith is likely talking to your father as we speak.”
Danielle’s eyes lit up. “Where?”
“Now is not the time. We’ll talk later.”
She nodded. “Okay. But I want Eden to take my place, not you. You’re not well.”
“And how is that better? These people love the Prince Regent almost as much as they love you.”
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