The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Asa was off on a crying jag, so the older boy spoke. “The king’s soldiers,” he said, his voice trembling. “They came and took Asa’s sister and father away this morning. We came to find you so that you could help.”

  For a moment, Peter was frozen with shock. He simply couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was Alexander who asked the question Peter couldn’t seem to bring forth.

  “Are you certain?” he asked. “You know it was the king’s men?”

  The boy nodded. “The yellow lions on a crimson tunic,” he said. “We’ve seen it before, many times. They came and took Asa’s sister and father.”

  “Where did they take them?”

  The boy shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “But they were heading towards the palace.”

  Westminster. Peter hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing but, suddenly, he took a big breath, so deep that his head began to swim. “But why?” he asked. “Why would they do that? Did they say anything? Make any demands?”

  Asa found his tongue. “I didn’t hear them say anything.”

  “But your father is the king’s jeweler. Mayhap it had everything to do with that?”

  Asa shook his head. “They took Lee-Lee and she screamed,” he said. “I heard her scream. Then they came into the house and took my father. They were dragging him away.”

  Peter looked at Alexander in shock. “Why take them both?”

  Alexander shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “It sounds as if John is clearly displeased, but to take them both away? I can see him taking the jeweler, but his daughter along with him?”

  Peter nodded, his mind reeling. “It makes no sense,” he said. “What they are describing sounds as if they have taken Liora and her father prisoner.”

  Alexander didn’t want to agree with him, but he had no choice. That was exactly what it sounded like.

  “Aye,” he said. “That would be my assumption as well.”

  “Saint Peter, please!” Asa begged. “Please help. You have a big sword and you can free them!”

  Peter looked at the child, hearing the heart-wrenching plea. Without a word, he bolted, running towards the stable as fast as his legs would take him. Alexander ran after him and because he was running, Maxton and Caius began to run, too. All of them running for their horses simply because Peter was. Maxton and Caius didn’t even know why Peter was running, or what the weeping young boy was talking about, but that didn’t matter. Peter thought it was serious enough to run and they wouldn’t let him go alone, wherever that may be.

  Something was badly amiss.

  As knights were dashing towards the stables, Christopher caught sight of them. He was over near the manse entry with David, watching men race for their horses. They were scattering through the assembling army, mounting horses and tearing off through the gatehouse. Puzzled, and concerned, Christopher caught Alexander before he could get away.

  “Sherry!” he shouted. “What is happening?”

  Alexander reined his horse to a swift halt, causing the horse to rear up. “Trouble,” he said. “Stay here.”

  Christopher scowled. “What is –?”

  Alexander cut him off. “Stay here, Chris,” he said in a rare use of Christopher’s given name. “If you get involved, it will only make it worse, so stay here.”

  Christopher had no idea what he was talking about, watching the man tear off through the courtyard and sprint from the gatehouse. He scratched his head, baffled at what had just happened, as Marcus came up to him.

  “What in the hell was that all about?” Marcus asked.

  Christopher shook his head, baffled. “I have no idea,” he said. “Sherry said to remain here, but he and Peter and Cai and Maxton just flew out of here as if the world were ending.”

  Marcus looked at David, who shrugged. He returned his focus to the gatehouse, seeing two young boys on a horse still standing there. He pointed.

  “Who is that?” he asked.

  Christopher’s vision wasn’t what it used to be. All he could see was a horse and two figures, but not much else. “I don’t know,” he said. “Who does it look like?”’

  “Two children.”

  The curiosity was mounting. Christopher, Marcus, and David headed to the gatehouse to find out who the children were and what, exactly, they had to do with the flight of the knights out of his bailey. When he finally got close enough to speak to the children, he didn’t recognize them, but after a brief conversation with the smaller of the pair, a great deal suddenly became very clear.

  Now, he knew why Peter had left so swiftly.

  Stay here, Chris. You’ll only make it worse if you get involved.

  When he told David and Marcus his suspicions, they didn’t quite agree with Alexander. Neither did Jax or Juston.

  Soon enough, the group of them were heading towards Westminster, too.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Westminster Palace

  Liora had never been so frightened in her entire life.

  Sitting in a lavish chamber, one with carved wood paneling and gold on the ceiling, it would have been beautiful under any other circumstances. But at the moment, all she could see was darkness and unfamiliarity and men all around her. She had been escorted into this chamber or, more precisely, dragged by the same man who had put his hand on her breast and then laughed about it when she slapped his hand. He’d put her in the chair and then stood back as other men came into the chamber.

  She had no idea what had happened to her father.

  “I do not understand why I am here,” she said, her cloak pulled tightly around her trembling body. “Why was I wrested from my home and brought here? Where is my father?”

  The man who was doing the questioning sat across from her in a chair that cost more than a rich man would earn in an entire year. He was older, with dark hair that had gone to gray around his face and one droopy eye. He’d entered the chamber with several other men who were now back in the shadows while the man with the droopy eye interrogated her.

  The silent eyes watched her, waiting.

  But Liora had no idea what, exactly, they were waiting for.

  “Something has happened,” the man said. “I have discovered your treachery. Now I must discover what you know, so kindly answer my questions and your father will remain perfectly safe. Deny me and it is possible that he will not be.”

  Liora looked at him in horror. “What does that mean?” she said, struggling not to panic. “What is it I have done?”

  Someone handed the man a cup of wine. This oddly gentle interrogation session had been going on for the better part of two hours and, at first, it had been relatively benign. The man with the droopy eye had asked her about her family, her father’s work, and who her father’s rich customers were. Liora had answered him steadily, asking occasional questions of her own, which went ignored.

  Now, the tension in the chamber seemed to be growing in intensity. For as roughly as she was removed from her home, she’d not expected this strangely pleasant reception.

  But that was about to change.

  “You are Peter de Lohr’s lover, are you not?” the man asked.

  Liora was blindsided by the question. That was not something she had expected to hear and, now, she could feel the stakes of the situation taking an even more confusing turn. Confusing, but at the same time, more focused because if they were asking her a question about Peter, then this entire incident must be about Peter.

  So she thought.

  “I… I do not understand,” she said. “Why would you ask that question?”

  “Answer me. Are you Peter’s lover?”

  Liora didn’t know what to say. Everything between her and Peter had been private for the most part, certainly nothing to speak of to family and friends. At least, not beyond Haim and Peter’s father. She looked at the man in the chair hesitantly before her gaze moved to the men back in the shadows.

  “Is that why I am here?” she asked, her voice starting t
o tremble. “You wish to know about Peter?”

  “I wish to know if you are his lover and you are not giving me an answer.”

  “Nay, I am not his lover.”

  The man sighed heavily. “I have it on good authority that you are lying,” he said. “I have received information to the contrary. I am told that you have seduced Peter and are part of the de Lohr rebellion. Is this true?”

  Liora was horrified. “It is not true,” she said. “I have not seduced him and I would know nothing about a rebellion other than there is one going on. Everyone knows that. Peter and I have only carried on a few conversations, but nothing else. Are you… does this have to do with Agnes de Quincy?”

  “What about Agnes?”

  “Peter was hiding from her and he hid in my kitchen yard. That is how I met him.”

  That seemed to bring the man pause. “He hid in your yard?”

  She nodded. “He said that he was being followed.”

  “And you let him remain?”

  “I did. I did not see any harm in it.”

  The man looked at his group, having an expression of great confusion. Liora looked at him anxiously until he returned his focus on her and slapped the side of his chair. The sound made her leap.

  “You will cease this foolery and tell me what I want to know!” he nearly shouted. “I have tried to be kind to you, but you are making it very difficult. Tell me what things you have told Peter!”

  Liora recoiled, sitting as far back in her chair as she could get. “About what?”

  The man slapped his chair again and leaned forward, his eyes boring into her. “What information have you wrested from your father that you would tell Peter and his father?”

  “I’ve not wrested anything from my father!”

  “Lies!”

  It was turning into a shouting match and Liora’s eyes filled with tears, having no idea what the man wanted from her. He started to move in her direction but he was stopped when someone leaned over and whispered in his ear. That seemed to visibly calm him and, after a moment, he nodded and rose from the chair. He filtered out of the chamber, followed by his entourage and leaving only one man behind. When the door closed, the lone man sat down in the same chair that the man with the droopy eye had occupied.

  Liora found herself looking at an older man with yellowed eyes.

  “My name is William Marshal,” the man said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “You do not know why you are here, do you?”

  Liora had heard that name. Everyone in London had heard that name. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or even more frightened facing the great Earl of Pembroke.

  The mystery deepened.

  “Nay,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Where is my father? Why were we brought here?”

  William held up a hand to quiet her before standing up and going to the door in the chamber. He listened for a moment before putting his hand on the latch and yanking the door open. Liora watched him curiously as he stepped into the corridor and looked around. Seemingly satisfied that no one was eavesdropping, he stepped back inside and shut the door, bolting it.

  He returned to the chair.

  “Now,” he said quietly. “I am going to tell you why you are here, but you must be perfectly truthful with me. Can you do that?”

  Liora nodded firmly. “Of course I can,” she said. “I swear it. But why am I here?”

  William pulled the chair a little closer to her so that he could keep his voice down. “The king wished to continue interrogating you and even wants to turn you over to his personal guard should you not give him the answers he seeks, but I have convinced him to let me try.”

  Liora cocked her head curiously. “The king?” she repeated. “He was here?”

  “He was in this chair.”

  Liora’s eyes widened with the realization. “I did not know, my lord,” she said. “I have never even seen him before.”

  William nodded and put a hand up to silence her. “I know,” he said. “But listen to me now. You are here because late last night, the king received a missive bearing the Earl of Winchester’s seal stating that you are part of the rebellion against the king because you are wresting the king’s secrets from your father and feeding them to Peter de Lohr. Is this true?”

  The color drained from her face. “Nay, of course not,” she said, terror in her voice. “My father would not know any of the king’s secrets and even if he did, he would never tell me. And Peter… it is true what I told you. He hid in my kitchen yard because he was hiding from a woman named Agnes de Quincy.”

  The Marshal sat back in the chair, pondering her explanation and trying to piece the situation together. “Does Agnes know he hid in your yard?” he asked, but then he answered his own question. “Never mind. I am certain she knew. Her father has spies following Peter everywhere he goes, so she must have known.”

  Liora wasn’t following him. “Spies? What spies?”

  William didn’t answer her. He was following a mental trail, putting together scraps of information from what he knew and from what Liora was telling him. What he didn’t tell her was that he had spies all over the city, too. That was his business. He knew that Peter had his eye on the daughter of the king’s jeweler since yesterday when Peter and Alexander hadn’t attended the meeting he’d called at Lonsdale. A few discreet questions to Marcus Burton, of all people, and he was aware that Peter was fond of a certain lovely Jewess.

  But that was all he knew until now.

  Now, he could definitely see that something was afoot.

  “So Agnes and Walter knew of Peter’s interest in a young woman on Milk Street because they followed him there,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Walter has been trying to force Peter into a betrothal for months but Peter is not interested. So when his spies saw Peter with you, they assumed that there was something between you two.”

  Liora was understanding him a little more now. She knew the names of Agnes and Peter, of course, and she knew that Peter had been hiding from Agnes. Pembroke was simply elaborating on that. She watched as he stood up and went to the wine that was on a table against the wall.

  He poured himself a cup, thinking.

  “I have never known Walter to be the vengeful sort, but it is the only explanation that makes sense,” he said. “Seeing Peter with the jeweler’s daughter, he sent the king a missive about you to remove you from the equation. If the jeweler’s daughter is locked up for treason, then Agnes’ path to Peter is made clear. Walter can continue to press a betrothal between his daughter and Peter.”

  Liora was coming to see what William was coming to see. “This… this man has told everyone I am a traitor to the king?”

  William turned to look at her. “It has to be him,” he said. “The missive the king received about you, though it was anonymous, bore the seal of the Earl of Winchester. That is Walter’s cousin and he is staying with the man here in London. If Winchester did not write the missive, and I would be willing to wager money that he did not, then it had to be by someone who had access to his seal – and that brings us back to Walter.”

  It occurred to Liora that this had nothing to do with her father, or their religion, or any number of factors. This had to do with Agnes de Quincy and nothing more. The realization had her slumping back against the chair.

  “Prophets save us,” she muttered. “A man I do not even know is trying to ruin me? Worse still, ruin my father in the eyes of the king?”

  William came back over to the chair and sat in front of her. “Tell me truthfully what your relationship is with Peter,” he said. “If I am to help you, I must know everything, but you must never mention that I intend to help you. No matter what I say or do, you must keep silent on the matter and have faith that I will do all I can to save you. Do you believe me?”

  Liora looked into his eyes and realized that, although she didn’t know Pembroke, she had no choice but to trust him. She was in a world where men she didn’t even know were trying to harm her
, so it stood to reason that she would trust a man she didn’t know to save her.

  She was willing to go on a little faith.

  “Peter… he wants to marry me,” she said quietly. “He has discussed the situation with a rabbi at the Great Synagogue so that he understands the challenges of such a thing. He has discussed the situation with his father and with my father.”

  William’s white eyebrows slowly lifted. “I cannot imagine Chris has taken this lightly,” he said. “What did Hereford say?”

  Liora had to force herself to speak it out. The situation was still so very new and, in a sense, still quite surreal. She didn’t want to speak out of turn, but if she had already told Peter she would convert to Christianity for him, then she supposed there was no turning back now. The wheels were in motion. She wanted to marry the man and there was no denying the fact.

  “He was not happy at first,” she said truthfully. “There can be no interfaith marriage between me and Peter. We must be all Christian or all Jewish, and Peter said that he would convert to Judaism to marry me. His father reminded him that if he did so, he would lose everything.”

  “That is very true,” William said quietly. “Peter is the eldest de Lohr son and his father holds a great empire. Peter has a great deal to lose should he renounce his knighthood.”

  “I know,” Liora said. “I told him that I would not allow him to do so and that I would convert. It makes the most sense that I should do so because I have the least to lose.”

  William found that an interesting statement. “Converting from Judaism is not a simple thing,” he said. “Your religion is your way of life. It is everything you know. It is the food you eat and the prayers you give. You would be willing to relinquish that for the uncertainty of a life that you are not familiar with?”

  Liora didn’t sense any judgment, but simply an honest question. She met it with an honest answer.

  “My life has been planned for me,” she said. “I am the eldest daughter of Haim ben Thad. I have been raised to be a good wife, to manage a home for my husband, and to be pleasing and educated. But the truth is that the best I could hope for is marrying a horse trader. It is not as bad as it sounds, because the man my father chose for me is wealthy and kind, but the life as the wife of a horse trader… living my life with a man I do not yearn for… is not something I am willing to settle for, only I did not realize this until I met Peter. My lord… do you know him well?”