Out they went onto the dusty streets of London.
“Peter!”
A cry filled the air and they saw Liora rushing across the street from her spot over by the seamstress’ shop. Now, the focus shifted from Christopher’s sacrifice to Peter and the young lady he was so enchanted with. Seeing her coming, Peter ran in her direction until they came together in a crash of flesh and blood, broadcloth and mail, right out in the middle of the street. Peter kissed her deeply and he didn’t care who saw him, including her father and his own.
He just didn’t give a lick.
“Thank God you are well,” Liora wept softly as she hugged him. “Your father must have worked a miracle!”
Peter wasn’t ready to let her go even though he could see that his father and the others had caught up to them. All he could seem to do was hold on to her, clinging to her as if he weren’t capable of letting her go. For what they’d just gone through, he felt as if he’d righteously earned this moment.
She was back in his arms and she was going to stay there.
“He did work a miracle,” he said. “I am well and, most importantly, you and your father are well. That is all that matters to me, sweetheart.”
Liora nodded, realizing there were men standing around her that she didn’t know. She was in a rather amorous embrace with Peter and out of propriety, she pulled away from him as her father walked up. But she was still holding Peter’s hand, because he wouldn’t let it go, as Haim focused on Peter.
“I have you to thank for this, Saint Peter,” he said, a glimmer in his dark eyes. “That is what my son calls you, you know.”
Peter smiled weakly. “You have a brave son, my lord,” he said, using the address as a sign of respect. “He is fearless as few men are.”
Haim smiled. “I think the same can be said for you from what I’m told,” he said. “When you left my home last night, Asa came to me. He told me about you. He said that you make sure hungry children are fed.”
“Saul’s Army?”
“The same.”
Peter averted his gaze modestly. “That was to keep them from stealing your eggs,” he said. “It was either that or Asa and his Maccabees were going to full-scale war against them. I did what I felt was right.”
“It was right,” Haim said. “That shows your depth of character. It shows the capacity for understanding, something that the Lord smiles upon. Asa is enamored with you. He wants to be like you. I have had the unhappy task of telling him that it is not possible.”
Peter’s smile faded. “He would make a fine knight,” he said sincerely.
Haim shrugged. “That is not for him, unfortunately, though he does not quite understand why,” he said. “But he will, in time. He will be happy with his life because he will have a good life. But my daughter… I am not so sure she will have a happy life from now on if you are not in it.”
Peter looked at Liora, who was gazing at her father with a pained expression. “I will not,” she said. “You know I will not. Peter is a good man, Papa, you’ve said so yourself. He risked his life to save us just now. He was going to give up everything just to save us until his father stepped in. Doesn’t that mean anything?”
Haim nodded. “It means a great deal,” he said frankly. “The man has saved my life and undoubtedly has saved yours. Peter, just what do you intend to do now? Will you let Liora go home with me and never see her again?”
Peter was still looking at Liora. “Her home is with you,” he said. “She will go home with you, but I will not promise never to see her again. I love her, my lord. I could not walk away from her now if God Himself stood before me and demanded it. What I did with John was not to coerce you into agreeing to a marriage. It was because I had to.”
Haim looked at Christopher, at David, and at the other men who were standing back, watching this very personal exchange go on. They all knew why Peter had come and, now, Peter’s entire future was playing out before them.
A future that was in Haim’s hands.
With a sigh, he took a few steps towards Peter so he could look the man in the eyes.
“Asa said something to me last night that has stayed with me,” he said. “He said that the most important thing is that people are kind and love us, no matter if they are Christian or Jewish. The most important thing is a man of noble heart, who will protect people and feed children who do not have enough to eat. God cares what is in our hearts more than He cares about the prayers we give, and if I searched for a million years to find a husband as worthy as you for my daughter, I am certain I could not find such a man. Liora loves you and you have proven that you love her, more than anyone else could have. I realize this means I will lose my daughter to your faith, but as I said, we both worship the same God. All I ask is that you allow her to teach your children about her faith. I should like them to know it and understand it. Will you do this for me?”
Peter hadn’t expected to hear those words coming from Haim’s mouth. As he stared at him, his eyes filled with tears and spilled over. He was exhausted and emotional, and it had already been a hell of a day. His control was cracking and the tears were the result. He had been waiting his entire life to hear those words, only he hadn’t known it until that moment.
He nodded his head.
“We will honor your faith in my household,” he said hoarsely. “And we will honor you and your family, I swear it. Thank you, my lord. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. But… but this does not mean that you will shun her, does it?”
Haim shook his head. “For my part, I cannot,” he said. “She is my child. I could never leave her.”
That relieved Peter’s heart more than he could express. Quickly, he wiped at his face as he looked at Liora, who was tearing up as well. But she was smiling from ear to ear as she looked at her father.
“Thank you, Papa,” she whispered tightly. “I know this is not an easy decision for you, but you have made me very happy.”
Haim smiled weakly at his daughter, feeling emotional and hoping he was doing the right thing. In his heart, it seemed right, but he also knew his daughter would be entering a whole new world that she knew absolutely nothing about.
He hoped she was ready.
“Are you certain, zeeskeit?” he asked. “This is what you want?”
Liora looked at Peter and, in that moment, Haim saw the joy between them, the growing adoration. It was as fresh and beautiful as a new morning.
“Aye,” Liora said after a moment. “This is what I want. He is what I want.”
“Then you have my blessing.”
Liora rushed her father, throwing her arms around him and thanking him profusely. Peter turned to Christopher, who beamed and embraced his son as David and Marcus did the same. In fact, they were all smiling and embracing Peter, congratulating him on his future bride and his future life. It hadn’t been an easy path to get there, and it had been a surprisingly swift one, but the moment had come. In a world that was in turmoil for all of them, the moment was especially sweet.
The joy of a new life to come, for Peter and Liora.
When the congratulations died down, Maxton and Caius and Alexander went to gather the horses while Christopher and Haim spoke in a serious huddle, no doubt discussing what was to come for their children. It was Marcus and David who stood off to the side, watching everything unfold.
“Well?” Marcus said to David. “What do you think about that? Your nephew is about to marry a Jewish woman.”
David watched Peter and Liora, in a private huddle. Peter was holding her hands against his chest, saying something to her that she clearly approved of. He could see the woman smiling up at him adoringly.
“As long as she loves him and treats him well, I do not care if she is Jewish or not,” he said. “You and I knew plenty of Jews while we were in The Levant. And I seem to remember the daughter of a carpenter you thought was quite lovely.”
Marcus had a smile on his lips as he remembered. “Ah,” he said. “The fair Adaya. Fu
nny, I’d forgotten about her.”
“As I recall, you were fairly enamored with her.”
“I was, but her father wasn’t enamored with me.”
David grinned. “Fortunately, that didn’t hold true with Liora’s father.”
Marcus watched Peter in the distance. “Young love is always the sweetest,” he said. That statement hung in the air between them for a moment before Marcus glanced at David. “And now I intend to destroy the man who tried to prevent it. Peter may be Chris’ son, but I raised him. He belongs to me as much as he does to Chris. Mark my words when I say that Walter de Quincy and his daughter will pay.”
David knew that. He wished he could help, but his attention was needed elsewhere. He watched Marcus walk away, heading over to Maxton where the two of them spoke briefly before mounting their horses. Whenever those two were involved, something very bad was about to happen.
David almost pitied Walter… but not quite.
As David went to find his horse, Peter managed to let go of Liora long enough to collect his own mount. But he didn’t climb into the saddle. He remained on foot, walking beside Liora and Haim in an unprecedented show of attention, a Christian knight to a Jewish family, as they headed back to the Jewish quarter.
It was a rare moment of religious unity.
Perhaps that was the bright side of this entire situation, David thought as he watched everyone disband. Perhaps the strife of de Quincy’s actions had the effect of bringing everyone together, stronger than before. Most certainly, it brought Haim to a decision he probably never thought he would make – allowing his daughter to marry a Christian. But even as David thought on the positive aspects of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t over yet. Not in the least.
Something told him that the worst, for Walter and Agnes, was yet to come.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Avington House, Townhome of the Earl of Winchester
Later that day
“He did what?”
Marcus stood over a man who seemed particularly pale at the moment. Saer de Quincy, Earl of Winchester, was a man from a good family who had used those family connections to achieve his present status. Like most of the de Quincy family, he’d married well and he’d bought, borrowed, and bribed his way into the position he currently found himself in.
One of the more powerful warlords in England.
By virtue of that station, he was also one of the architects of the Magna Carta and he’d spent the bulk of John’s reign fighting against the king. Because of this, he had been a ready ally for Christopher when the man had finally turned against John and Saer had valued that alliance more for the prestige than for the actual friendship.
But that didn’t matter to Marcus. Whether the man liked Christopher or whether he didn’t was immaterial.
He wanted something from Saer and he wasn’t going to leave without it.
“Your cousin, Walter, has been sending messages to John,” he repeated. “He has sent John a missive regarding Hereford’s son, Peter, informing the king that Peter’s intended is a spy for the rebellion.”
Saer had his hand over his mouth in disbelief. “Christ,” he muttered. “Then I did hear you correctly the first time.”
“You did.”
“Who is his intended?”
“You would not know her,” Marcus said. “She is the daughter of John’s jeweler, but in spite of that, this young woman has never done anything wrong, nor has Peter. Yet, your cousin is making salacious claims against Peter and, in doing so, got the girl and her father imprisoned. Peter was forced to swear fealty to John in order to have them released.”
Saer was trying not to appear too sickened. “Are you certain it was him?” he asked weakly, already knowing the answer. “You’re sure about this, Burton?”
Marcus sighed faintly. “You know your cousin has been trying very hard to marry his daughter to Peter de Lohr,” he said, sounding as if he were scolding the man. “You know he has had Peter followed, spied on, trailed, and otherwise invasively pursued. If you do not believe me, ask him. He will tell you that he has. Only he happened to see Peter speaking with the jeweler’s daughter and out of sheer jealousy, tried to have the woman thrown in the vault for crimes she did not commit. Shall I go on?”
Saer held up a hand. “Nay,” he said quickly. “I believe you.”
“Then bring him in here. I want to speak with him.”
Saer eyed him hesitantly. “Speak to him?” he said. “Or beat him? You know that he has already been badly beaten in a robbery.”
Marcus fixed on him with an expression that suggested he wasn’t surprised. “It was less than he deserved.”
It took Saer a moment to realize that Marcus knew something about that beating. He sighed heavily and averted his gaze. “That was a warning, wasn’t it?”
Marcus snorted. “He tried to force Hereford into a marriage by threatening Peter. When that did not work, he threatened the jeweler’s daughter instead.” He took a step in de Quincy’s direction, his big body tense. “Hereford has tried to be patient. He has tried to ignore him. But his actions against Peter and the jeweler’s daughter, a completely innocent woman, have forced Hereford into action.”
“But…”
“Do you know he used your seal on the missive he sent to the king, hoping the man would think it was from you?”
Saer’s eyes widened at that revelation. “He did that?”
“Ask him.”
“Surely there has to be more to it!”
“There is no more to it than pure greed and wickedness.” When Saer tried to resist, Marcus delivered the final blow. “Give me your cousin or any alliance between you and Hereford is finished.”
That was enough for Saer. He’d never liked his cousin, but bloodlines had afforded him some courtesy. But no longer. After what he’d just heard, blood wasn’t strong enough to protect Walter. Right now, he was in the path of an enraged Hereford and his allies, including the unpredictable and deadly Marcus Burton, for righteously despicable actions.
He wanted no part of whatever that man was about receive.
“Then take him out of here,” he hissed. “I refuse to support a man who only wishes to use my good name for his nefarious deeds. He wanted the king to think I was the one sending him missives? We’ll just see about that. Of course I knew he was following Peter de Lohr; he tells me so nightly. He tells me how Agnes is going to marry him and become the next Countess of Hereford.”
Marcus shook his head. “She will never be the Countess of Hereford because Peter will never be the earl,” he said. “Evidently, he is too stupid to realize that. Where is your cousin?”
“Upstairs.”
“And his daughter?”
“Probably with him.”
Marcus nodded faintly. “Take me to your cousin and then get out of here,” he said. “I do not care where you go, but get out of this house for a time. And tell Agnes to wait downstairs. She is not to leave with you.”
Saer eyed him. “You will not hurt her, will you?”
“Of course not. But she is part of this. Her actions have consequences.”
It was a harsh reply, but no harsher than she deserved. She was just as ambitious as her father and Saer knew she had been quite aware of her father’s actions against Peter. As Walter had bragged, Agnes had beamed her approval. Saer had seen it.
Perhaps it was better this way.
With a weary nod, Saer motioned for Marcus to follow him.
“Come with me.”
Marcus did. He followed Saer down a very narrow corridor that led to a narrow flight of steps. They went up the stairs, to the floor above, where wood paneling lined the walls and made the corridor even more narrow. Dark, thick wood lined everything – ceiling and floors – in an astonishing display of Winchester wealth. They came to the last door in the corridor and nearly plowed into a young woman coming from the chamber. Before she could say a word, Saer grabbed her by the arm and pulled her awa
y.
Marcus watched Agnes as she was forcibly escorted away but groaning inside the chamber caught his attention.
He stepped inside.
Walter was laying on the bed, a compress to his mouth as he faced the windows. His back was to the door and Marcus stood there a moment, noting the bloodied rags and bed linens. The entire room was a mess.
Just like Walter’s life.
There was some satisfaction in that.
“You have failed, de Quincy.”
Walter’s head jerked around, seeing Marcus standing in the open doorway. His eyes widened and he threw the compress aside, lurching out of bed. There was a table underneath the windows that contained some of his possessions, including his coin purse, saddlebags, and a small arsenal of daggers. He grabbed one of them, a nasty-looking weapon with a serrated edge, and held it up in a threatening manner.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his words slurred because of his swollen mouth. “Get out of here!”
Marcus cocked his head with some amusement. “Do you intend to use that dagger, then?”
“I said get out!”
He was screaming and Marcus stepped further into the chamber, slamming the door behind him. He threw the bolt, watching Walter’s face turn bright red with fear and fury at the realization of being in a locked room with Marcus Burton.
There was fear in the man’s eyes.
“Shut up,” Marcus growled. “For once in your life, shut your insipid mouth and listen for a change. You and I are going to have a serious discussion, Walter. Refuse me and I will throw you right out of the window. Is this in any way unclear?”
Walter’s red face went pale, just that quickly. He did not lower the dagger, however. He just stood there and panted like a dog.
“What do you want, then?” he demanded hoarsely. “Say it and leave me alone.”
“Why?” Marcus said. “Why should I leave you alone when you’ve not left Peter alone since the moment you decided that you wanted him for your daughter? You’ve pestered and plagued him. You’ve had your spies follow him and report to you. You’ve not left him alone so I will ask you again – why should I leave you alone?”
The Splendid Hour: The Executioner Knights Book 7 Page 29