The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “One more detour?” he said, exasperated. “Peter, if you want to make it to the Great Synagogue before the sun sets, you should probably focus on your destination and stop following your whims.”

  Peter was looking at the shops as they passed each one… Betzalel… Ehud… Malkiel… Gil… all of them with Jewish names, all of them with heavily armed soldiers who postured dangerously when they saw the equally heavily armed knights. A few even unsheathed their swords, but Peter held his hands up, away from the broadsword strapped to his saddle, to show them that he wasn’t armed, nor did he intend to draw a weapon.

  Behind him, he could hear Alexander grunt unhappily.

  “Christ,” he muttered. “You are going to get us killed, Peter. Why in the hell did you bring us down this street?”

  Peter turned to reply but was cut short when he saw what he was looking for.

  Thad.

  It had to be Haim ben Thad’s shop.

  With a smile, he reined his horse over to the shop. “Come with me,” he said to Alexander. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Alexander reined his horse alongside him, dismounting and eyeing the armed guards that were on the perimeter of the shop. There was even one on the roof with a crossbow. Alexander kept his hands far away from his weapons as Peter spoke to the man at the door.

  “I would like to see Haim ben Thad,” he said. “He knows my father. My name is Peter de Lohr.”

  The man at the door knocked on it and a small, slit window opened. He repeated Peter’s words to whoever had opened it and they waited until there was a response, which took a few minutes. Peter fully expected to see a man but was quite shocked – and pleased – when the bolts on the iron door were thrown and Liora appeared.

  “Peter?” she said, almost incredulously. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  For a moment, Peter couldn’t speak. All he could do was look at her, dressed in a shade of blue that matched her eyes. She wore a dark blue scarf over her head and shoulders, looking up at him most curiously.

  She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

  “Forgive me,” he finally said. “I did not expect you to answer the door. You took my breath away for just a moment.”

  Liora’s cheeks flushed and she fought off a grin. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, lowering her voice. “My father is here, you know.”

  Peter nodded. “I know,” he said. “I wanted to speak with him on business. Wait… that is not entirely true. Asa said you were here, so I came. But I do want to speak with your father on business while I am here.”

  “What about?”

  “A gift for my father.” Before she could reply, Peter indicated Alexander, standing a few feet away. “This is my sister’s husband, Sir Alexander de Sherrington. His friends call him Sherry, of which he has many. Sherry, this is Liora, daughter of Haim.”

  Alexander dipped his head politely. “My lady.”

  Liora smiled timidly at the very big man with the short, dark hair and a closely cropped black beard. Realizing she had two guests on her doorstep, she motioned them inside.

  “Please,” she said. “Come in. Let me provide you with rest and drink.”

  But Peter shook his head. “Nay, Demoiselle,” he said. “But I thank you just the same. If your father is busy, I can just as easily come back. I do not mean to interrupt him, as we have come unannounced.”

  Liora indicated the open door. “It is no trouble,” she said. “If you truly have business with my father, do come in.”

  A smile played on Peter’s lips and he took a step closer to her, though he should not have. He simply couldn’t help himself. “I really came to see you,” he whispered. “I will come back again, I assure you, but I simply had to see you today. I could not sleep last night for thoughts of you.”

  They were far enough away from the armed men that their conversation wasn’t heard, but Liora’s cheeks flamed. She was both uncomfortable and titillated by his words.

  “I asked you to let me think,” she muttered.

  “Do you really want me to stay away?”

  She opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it. She shook her head reproachfully. “You are impossible,” she scolded softly. “Of course I do not want you to stay away. But you should. You must.”

  “I cannot,” he said. “In fact, I am going to the Great Synagogue right now to speak with a rabbi. Asa told me that your rabbi’s name is Judah. I intend to seek him.”

  Liora’s eyes widened. “What?” she hissed. “Peter, you mustn’t, not until I’ve had a chance to speak with him!”

  “And when will that be?”

  She was starting to grow nervous, twitchy. “I do not know,” she said. “I must finish helping my father today and then I must return home and help my mother. We have a guest for sup tonight and…”

  She suddenly stopped, looking at him with big eyes as if she were afraid to say more. Peter’s brow furrowed.

  “What about it?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  She blinked fearfully. “I am afraid to tell you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… well, you must not come around tonight. Please.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my father invited the horse trader to sup.”

  Peter knew exactly what she meant. “The one who wants to marry you?”

  He raised his voice and she shushed him, taking him by the arm and pulling him away from the door, out into the street. They were behind the horses now as she faced him.

  “Remember that I do not want to marry him,” she said quietly. “I have no interest in the man at all, but you are not to come around tonight. You are a very big man with a very big sword and if you cause trouble… it would be very bad, Peter. Do you understand me?”

  He did, but he wasn’t happy. He sighed heavily. “Aye,” he said. “I understand. It does not make me happy, but I understand.”

  “Good,” she said, daring to put a hand on his big arm. “As for the rabbi, please let me speak to him first.”

  Peter lifted his shoulders. “I am only going to ask a few questions,” he said. “I will not even mention your name. I know nothing about your religion or culture, so I want to understand what it is that make Christian and Jew mix like oil and water. I want to understand what issues I face in my quest to court you. There is no harm in asking, is there?”

  She eyed him, realizing she would not be able to discourage him. The man was determined and it was so very sweet. Reckless, but sweet. It made her heart leap in both fear and joy. She couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger. But she knew one thing.

  She was glad to see him and, no… she did not want him to stay away.

  “Very well,” she said, jabbing a finger at him. “But do not mention my name.”

  Peter smiled broadly, taking that finger and kissing it. “I swear I will not.”

  She pulled her finger away, giving him a look that suggested he was quite a scamp for daring to give her a kiss. “Good.”

  “I have missed you.”

  Her cheeks started to flame again. “You only just saw me yesterday.”

  “That was a whole day ago. Do you mean to say you have not missed me?”

  She grinned, averting her gaze bashfully. “If I did, I would not tell you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you may act like a besotted fool, but I will not.”

  His face fell. “You are not besotted with me?”

  “Nay.”

  “You do not even like me?”

  “I have not yet decided.”

  He sighed sharply. “You are a cruel woman to toy with me like this. I do believe I shall cry right here and make a fool out of myself. Then you’ll be sorry.”

  She burst into soft laughter, her smile glorious and radiant. Before she could reply, however, Alexander came around the rear of the horse.

  “Papa has made an appearance,” he muttered, pulling Peter back to his ho
rse.

  Liora bolted back towards the front door just as Haim stepped out, looking at the pair of knights curiously. Before he could speak, Liora put her hand on her father’s arm.

  “This is Sir Peter de Lohr, Papa,” she said. “His father is Christopher de Lohr, the Earl of Hereford and Worcester. The knight with him is his sister’s husband, Sir Alexander de Sherrington.”

  Haim blinked in the bright morning sunlight, peering at Peter as the man mounted his steed. “De Lohr?” he repeated. “Richard’s Lion Claw?”

  That was a very old nickname Christopher had once had, as Richard’s champion. Richard was the Lionheart and Christopher was the Lion’s Claw. A lion was only as dangerous as his sharp claws, after all, and Christopher had earned that deadly moniker for his prowess with a sword.

  “Aye, my lord,” Peter said. “That was his name, long ago. He remembers you as Richard’s jeweler.”

  Haim held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, getting a better look at the young man who looked a good deal like Christopher had in his youth. “I was,” he said. “Did he send you to see me?”

  Peter shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said. “I came myself. I should like to have something beautiful made for my father for Christmas, which is not so far away. You are the only jeweler I know of, and being the jeweler to the king, I thought you could make something fine for my father. I realize I have come unannounced, but your daughter was being most hospitable. Mayhap I can return at another time and we may discuss something for my father?”

  Haim nodded. “I would be honored, young de Lohr,” he said. “Return to me tomorrow. We shall discuss it at that time.”

  “I will, my lord. Thank you.”

  With that, Peter directed his horse away from the shop, but he only had eyes for Liora, who smiled at him when she thought her father wasn’t looking. She watched as Peter and Alexander headed back up to the main avenue, but her father pulled her back inside the shop and her view was cut short.

  But it had been enough of a view to feed that giddiness that Peter seemed to bring about.

  His appearance may have been unexpected, but it certainly hadn’t been unwelcome. He’ll be back tomorrow, she thought. Somehow, she was going to find more work to do at her father’s shop that just might take all day tomorrow to complete. Or, at least until Peter showed up again. That pushy, glorious knight she’d tried so hard to discourage refused to let her sensibilities dampen his enthusiasm and as she thought on it, she realized she was glad.

  Glad that the man refused to be dissuaded.

  Perhaps there was a part of her that, all along, had wondered if this wasn’t some sort of whim for him. He’d met a pretty girl, someone new and different, and he’d become infatuated. Perhaps it would last an hour, a day, and just fade away. But when she’d looked from the window and saw him ride up, it began to occur to her that perhaps this wasn’t a whim. Perhaps he’d really meant what he’d said. When he’d mentioned speaking to the rabbi, that only solidified her opinion.

  Perhaps all of this was real.

  It was frightening and exciting. And so very, very wrong. She knew it was wrong. But there was something so very touching about a man who was willing to fight for her with the odds so stacked against them. Try as she might, she had tried to rid herself of him, but he kept coming back. He kept fighting.

  Perhaps she needed to fight with him from now on… and mean it.

  With a smile of anticipation, she bolted the door and headed back to her ledger.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The man dressed in peasant clothing chugged down an entire cup of fine wine, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Well?” Walter de Quincy demanded. “What do you have to tell me?”

  The man was one of many that Walter had paid to follow Peter de Lohr and report back on the man’s activities and movements. There was an entire army of them, about twenty men, who kept track of Peter from the time he left Lonsdale and all around the city. They knew where he ate and where he slept, and who he kept company with. They also spoke to people who had seen him to get even more information, all of it reported back to Walter and Agnes.

  Like today.

  This particular man was a servant at Lonsdale who was on Walter’s payroll. He had followed Peter from Ludgate and to the Street of the Jewelers, and every time he came to Walter with a report, the man gave him a shiny, silver coin. But today… today, he was going to get more than that.

  He’d already decided.

  “De Lohr came into town very early, m’lord,” he said. “De Sherrington came with him.”

  “The earl’s son-in-law?” Walter asked.

  The man nodded. “The same,” he said. “He’s… deadly, m’lord. I didn’t want to get too close because de Sherrington is an assassin. Everyone knows he is. He’ll kill me and throw my body in the river.”

  Walter nodded impatiently. “Tell me what you saw and be quick about it.”

  The man opened his mouth but paused when he saw Agnes enter the well-appointed solar. The room was full of furs and tapestries and valuables, all of it crammed into the small solar of a townhome that belonged to a de Quincy cousin, Saer de Quincy, who was the Earl of Winchester. He also happened to be among the leaders of the rebellion against John and was one more reason why Walter was so determined to make a marriage with de Lohr.

  He wanted those connections.

  Irritated that his daughter interrupted the spy, Walter waved the man on.

  “Go on, go on,” he demanded.

  The man was mostly looking at Walter as Agnes eyed him most curiously. “I followed Peter and de Sherrington into London,” he said. “They stopped at a tavern to procure food before moving towards Milk Street where he met up with some children. I do not know what happened, or what was said, but they soon left the children and went to the Street of the Jewelers.”

  Walter’s brow furrowed. “Street of the Jewelers?” he said, puzzled. “I wonder why?”

  The man lowered his voice. “I do not know why, but I can tell you what I saw,” he said. “And it will cost you another coin.”

  Walter’s features stiffened. “You dare to make demands?”

  “Not demands, my lord,” he said. “What I saw was worth more than the usual payment.”

  Walter was about to throw the man from the chamber, but thought better of it. He sighed sharply. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll give you another coin. Tell me what you saw.”

  Satisfied, the man continued. “He went to the shop of Haim ben Thad. He is the king’s jeweler.”

  Walter recognized the name. “He is one of the most prominent jewelers in all of London,” he said. “Peter went there to buy something?”

  The man looked between Walter and his daughter. “I do not think so,” he said. “I could not hear what they were saying, but he did not go into the shop. A young woman came forth to greet them and he spoke with her. I was hiding in a doorway, you see, so I could see them clearly. There were other people around, so I did not stand out as a lone man cowering in the shadows and I was able to see a great deal. Peter and this young woman were speaking while de Sherrington was standing off to the side somewhere. He was not part of the conversation.”

  “And?”

  The man stepped closer and lowered his voice further, as if divulging a great secret. “And I saw Peter kiss the woman’s hand.”

  “Kiss?” Agnes said, incensed. “Are you certain?”

  The man had known from the beginning of his association with de Quincy that all of the spying he was doing was because of Agnes. It was no secret in the de Lohr household that Walter very much wished for a marriage between his daughter and Peter de Lohr, so he knew this news would upset the young woman.

  He was right.

  Agnes’ face was turning as red as her hair.

  “Peter was speaking to the young woman, m’lady,” he said. “When she lifted her finger to point at him, he took her hand and kissed the tip of her finger. That is
not the usual polite kiss. It seemed like there was something more. In fact, it seemed like there was something more through the entire conversation because they were smiling with each other and… and…”

  Agnes was ready to explode. “And what?”

  “And it seemed to me that they were teasing one another – flirting.”

  Agnes’ mouth popped open in outrage. “Who is this young woman?”

  The man shook his head. “When a man came out of the shop, she called him her father,” he said. “I assume it is the jeweler’s daughter.”

  Agnes looked at her father as if she were ready to kill someone. Walter had a sick feeling in his stomach that Peter de Lohr was slipping through his fingers. He quickly paid the man his extra coin and sent him along his way before returning his attention to his daughter.

  “A jeweler’s daughter,” she seethed, pounding her fist on the back of a cushioned chair. “A jeweler’s daughter!”

  Walter’s mind was working quickly. “Not just any jeweler’s daughter,” he said. “The king’s jeweler. There is something significant in that, Agnes. There is something happening.”

  Agnes stopped pounding the furniture and looked at him. “What could possibly be happening?” she snapped. “That… that whore is to have my husband!”

  Walter held up a hand. “She’s not a whore,” he said. “If she is the jeweler’s daughter, then she’s a Jew and, more than likely, quite sheltered. A Jew cannot marry a Christian and, most importantly, not a de Lohr. Hereford would never allow it.”

  “If he knows,” Agnes pointed out. “He may not know at all.”

  A thought occurred to Walter. “Mayhap not,” he said. “But that will change. I am happy to tell him that his son is allowing himself to be seduced by the jeweler’s daughter. The jeweler of John, the very man we are fighting against. Mayhap Peter is even giving the woman information about the rebellion.”

  “Of course!” Agnes cried. Somehow, it made her feel better to have a reason behind Peter’s defection other than the fact he simply didn’t like her. “That is the only thing that makes sense. She is seducing him to discover the rebellion’s plans so that she can tell her father and he can tell the king!”