by Wend Petzler
Tousling Lilia's golden curls, he winked at the open, awed stares the little girls beside her gave him. They started giggling at his antics. Taking a seat at the head of the table, Lucian indicated for Eiry to sit on his left as Derrick took a seat on his right. A plump priest he had never seen before harrumphed loudly, surprising the gathered people by his presence. The man's balding pate reflected the bright sunlight streaming in through the open shutters as he arranged his brown robes, waiting for the room to become silent.
When the priest had their complete attention, he introduced himself. “My name is Friar Tuck. I heard you do not have a priest of your own, and since I belong to a small parish near Sherwood Forest, I volunteered to come and hear confession. Now, all bow yer heads. I shall say Grace.” When assured all had complied, he spoke in a loud voice, “Dear Lord, I wish to give our thanks for the hearty meal these fine ladies have prepared for us. I offer a pray for those wayward souls who have done only what was needed to survive these hard times. May our enemies flee before God's righteous judgment. Amen.” The priest stressed the word ‘flee', looking straight at Eiry. His eyes narrowed in warning, his gaze flickered briefly over to Louie who began to eat, seemingly unaware of the warning. Friar Tuck made the sign of the Cross and sat down to eat.
A shout from the tower alerted them that riders were approaching. Eiry jumped from her seat. “Excuse me.” She hurried into the kitchen. “Anne, where is Allen?” At her shrug, Eiry informed her, “Robin has sent us a warning. Robert is coming."
Was it too late?
"Sweet Jesus, the lad turned us in, didn't he?” Anne gasped, diving to look out the window with Eiry not far behind her. Prince John and his lackey, Lord Robert, passed through the gates with a large troop of armed soldiers and knights.
Eiry froze. A single image rose in her mind's eye—a hanging noose.
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Chapter Eleven
Anne clutched Eiry's arm in a painful grip. “Eiry, you've got to run,” she ordered fearfully. “You are in far greater danger of being taken into custody by the Sheriff! Allen's most likely seen the Sheriff and run into the woods. But, you, you will suffer horrible, unimaginable pain and degradation at the hands of that beast, Lord Robert, especially if they knew you are Lady Thief."
Taking the frighten woman by the shoulders, Eiry forced Anne to look at her. “If they arrest me, take care of Lilia. I know Lucian will guard her with his life, but I want you to make sure she knows why I've done what I did. Lilia must know how much I love her."
Anne knew firsthand the sacrifices Eiry had made for the starving and helpless. If her life was to end, Eiry had the sure knowledge she'd done the best she could for her family and friends. She knew she could trust Anne to take care of Lilia after ... after she was gone.
"Promise me you will make sure Lilia knows I love her,” Eiry desperately demanded.
"I promise, Eiry. I'll make sure Lilia knows."
"Good. Well, there's no way around this. I had best go out there and see what the Sheriff is about."
Anne grabbed a pitcher of wine and stacked several wooden cups onto a tray. She handed it over to Eiry. “Here, take this out and serve the Sheriff and Prince John, mayhap they do na know who ye are. We will know either way."
Eiry took the tray and squared her shoulders. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she headed out to the great hall.
* * * *
Glancing at Derrick, Lucian grimly nodded. “Come, let us find out what Prince John wants with us.” He led the way from the hall, pausing when Eiry came out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a pitcher and cups balanced on it. His steady gaze met with hers. How deep in trouble was Eiry with Lady Thief? Lucian cinched his sword firmly about his hips. His men did the same before following him outside to greet the newcomers.
Damn, there were so many, Lucian thought grimly. Far more than even he and his men could handle if things went wrong today.
Best get this over with, he decided.
"Good morning, Your Highness.” Lucian noted the way the sheriff's men were pointing at several of the men he hired. The gathered workers were nervously watching the proceedings and looked as if they wanted to flee.
"Good morning, Lucian. I hope you don't mind us coming without an invitation.” Prince John smiled amiably, apparently wishing not to make an enemy of the Butcher.
Dismissing their intrusion with a wave of his hand, Lucian rumbled, “You are most welcome, Your Highness.” Refusing to give Robert the respect due his office, he enjoyed watching the man bristle with rage at the obvious snub.
Prince John's attention was swiftly drawn to Eiry when she exited the castle. His bloated features gave evidence the man was mesmerized by the way she moved with the grace of a dancer, curtsying before the Prince as he remained on his horse. Lucian could not help admiring how the bright sun captured the gold in the walnut-brown strands. She set down the tray and filled a cup with wine and held it out to Prince John, keeping her eyes centered on the ground. Taking it, his grin turned wicked, licking his thick, puffy lips in anticipation of feasting upon such delectable flesh. Eiry moved on, diligently keeping her eyes downcast when she offered a cup to Robert. Lucian gritted his teeth from making a fool out of himself when Robert reached down and placed a gloved finger under her chin, forcing her to raise her eyes.
"Dear Eiry, how fairs thee with the Butcher of Acre? Does he treat you well? Or do you give him special treatment and take care of his needs?” He laughed softly when she glared at him and whipped her chin from his grasp.
A snarl curled Lucian's upper lip. He strode over to Eiry and snapped his head toward the castle. “Get back to your duties,” he ordered, keeping his eyes on the armed men before him.
Appearing relieved, Eiry scurried away, casting a worried look at Lucian before being ushered inside by Derrick who shut the door firmly behind her. Derrick stood guard in front of the doors. Lucian's men positioned themselves in a defensive line beside him, just in case they were forced to defend the castle and its occupants.
"What can I do for you, Your Highness?” Lucian asked, resting his hand on the well worn hilt of his trusty sword.
"First, I am here on a matter of the law. I'm sure you've heard what happened at Peveril Castle. The thieves were indeed bold to rob the sheriff of his food supplies, as they were of my property. We have obtained a list consisting names of possible suspects and wish to interrogate them of their whereabouts yesterday. The other reason I am here is to invite you along the hunt our dear sheriff is holding in my honor. Will you come?"
Knowing he had no other choice in the matter, Lucian inclined his head in acceptance. “I would be honored to ride with you tomorrow. As to the list you possess, who gave you the names?"
Robert sneered at the question. “What matter where we got the names? I am here dispensing my duty as sheriff by arresting those despicable thieves!"
A wagon, pulled by two draft horses, lumbered into the courtyard, its cargo consisted of fifteen men and women, bound and gagged. Many sported fresh bruises and cuts made in an apparent struggle to escape their captors. One man in particular drew Lucian's attention, recognizing him as Allen Thatcher, his foreman. Why was he arrested?
"Innocent before proven guilty. Right, my lord?” His words dripped with heavy sarcasm. How many people working for him were on the damn list? Turning to Prince John, he tried a new approach. “Your Highness, allow me to go over the list, and I shall round up the men myself and personally interrogate them for you.” Lucian held out his hand to receive the list from Robert, whose eyes narrowed at the obvious ploy.
Outraged, Robert held back the list. “I will conduct my own investigation! William, find the outlaws and arrest them all,” Robert shouted.
Lucian snarled and yanked Robert clear off his horse. Without raising his voice, Lucian spoke softly for the sheriff alone. “It is ill-advised to start issuing orders on my lands.” He paused when a shout from the tower alerted of more riders coming.<
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A large, well armed company came cantering into the courtyard. Knights, squires, along with bowmen and foot soldiers, numbering over a hundred, drew to a halt, surrounding Prince John's men along with the Sheriff's. Releasing Robert's tunic, Lucian let the man collapse to the ground. Lucian casually walked over to greet his men.
An eager young knight doffed his helm, his eyes wide at the scene they arrived upon. “Sir Lucian, have we come at a bad time?"
"Not at all, Sir George, your timing could not be better. Your Highness, I apologize for the interruption, but my men have traveled far and are tired. Can we continue the discussion concerning outlaws tomorrow at the hunt?"
Having no other choice, especially with the larger number of knights in Lucian's favor, Prince John smiled tightly, glancing at Robert, making sure he was not injured. He appeared none the worse for wear as he jerked his tunic straight and swung back up on his agitated horse. “I think it agreeable. Be at Peveril Castle around the twelfth hour. As a token of good will on your part, I make a small request. Bring the girl, Eiry, with you. She will make a fine addition to our party. We are always looking for new entertainment.” Signaling to his men, Prince John led the way out of the gates without looking back.
Inwardly, John was seething. The knowledge he needed Martine and his fighting men grated resentfully on his nerves. Someday, he would make the insolent knight pay dearly for his arrogance. It was by a stroke of pure luck when last night Robert's spy had given up the names of the outlaws responsible for robbing the Shire and the King's Highway. Today was supposed to have gone better, yet they did have a goodly amount of outlaws in custody. What he truly wanted was the bitch who had humiliated him yester morn. Lady Thief would pay dearly for touching him. His thoughts turned to the Butcher. Although he admired Lucian Martine's magnificently handsome features, only slightly marred by the white scar curving down a high cheekbone, a sudden feeling of inadequacy overcame John as he sized up the tall knight clad in brown hose and tunic. Lucian Martine was not a man to be trifled with. He needed to be handled with care, until John was certain he owned him. Afterward, he would make him grovel at his feet.
Robert turned his horse around, spotting the nervous, red-haired man in the crowd of gathered peasants. “William, I want that man in custody!” He glared at Martine, daring him to challenge his right to arrest Louie Janssen. When Martine remained silent, he spurred his mount into a canter, easily catching up with the fuming prince.
* * * *
From one of the great hall's windows, Eiry watched. She turned to Anne when they saw Allen bound in the wagon. Eiry tried to comfort the sobbing woman. “Hold on, Anne. We'll get Allen and the rest back safe, and sound, I promise.” Biting her lip, she had to be strong, unable to give into the gut-wrenching agony of knowing her friends would be hung.
"They're arresting Louie!” Anne gasped, covering her mouth.
They watched as Louie tried to escape, easily caught by two burly soldiers. Struggling to get free, he had no choice when they literally dragged him away. Binding his wrists with rough rope, they casually tossed him in the wagon with the rest of the prisoners.
"Why are the sheriff's men taking him if he's their spy?” Anne looked confused.
"It's a ruse.” Friar Tuck answered from behind them. They whipped around in surprise. “The sheriff has been busy this morn, arresting those Louie informed them as being thieves. It will only be a matter of time before the boy names you, Lady Eiry."
The main door crashed open and Lucian burst inside the hall. Fury made him appear the Devil incarnate. He searched the room until his angry gaze settled on Eiry. He made to grab her arm when a knight she'd seen arrive moments ago attempt to gain his attention.
"My lord, I...” The glare Lucian shot at him should have given him pause, yet it did not deter the young knight. “My lord, I apologize for the interruption. I must speak with you about a priest who sought your whereabouts in London. He begged us to bring him to you. He says he has news of grave importance about your family and wishes to speak with you.” He encouraged a thin man wearing brown robes to come forward.
Bowing, the priest appeared unaffected by Lucian's scarred features or obvious anger. “My lord, I do not know if you remember me, I am your mother's priest and am here on her behalf. I'm afraid I bear sad tidings."
A startled look crossed Lucian's hard features. He abruptly sat down in the nearest chair. “My mother isn't...?"
Placing a reassuring hand on Lucian's broad shoulder, the priest smiled gently. “No, my son, your mother is in fine health. The news concerns your father. A month ago he suffered a fatal stroke and died not long afterward. Your mother, the Duchess, has sent me to find you and plead with you to reconcile with her. I bear a letter addressed to you.” The priest held out a rolled parchment to Lucian who stared at it, looking as if he wanted to burn the offending thing.
Seeing the distrust, the priest smiled kindly. “Your mother anticipated your reluctance to hear from her, but she prays you will one day forgive her. She wishes you to know she is at last free of the tyrant and prays you have found freedom, too."
Eiry nodded to Friar Tuck, silently urging him to take Anne. He gently took hold of the upset woman. Eiry went over to Lucian, pouring him a cup of ale. She held it out to him, half expecting him to dismiss her. Relief flooded her when he absently accepted the cup.
Taking a long drink, Lucian sat the cup down and broke the wax seal. He slowly unfurled the parchment. It was the first contact he had with his family since his departure ten years ago. Reading the contents, Lucian steeled himself from the unexpected rush of pain knowing his father was dead. Lucian had spent his entire life fighting his father, and in a single, unforeseen moment the old man was dead. He felt cold inside. What he was going to do? Reading on, his mother pleaded with him to claim his heritage and take his rightful place as Duke of their lands in Normandy.
Unsure, he looked up at Eiry. In an instant, he was made aware she knew exactly how he felt, having suffered her own loss. His hand instinctively reached out to her, enclosing hers in his. Amazed by the warmth he felt when her fingers slipped into his, holding onto him, he took a deep breath and faintly smiled at her.
"Eiry, please see to Father Adam. Make sure he has plenty to eat and a clean bed to sleep in tonight. Father, please follow Eiry, she will see to your comfort.” Lucian rose, striding outside, needing to clear his head with all which was happening. He tossed his head to Derrick and George to follow him. “Come, we need to speak."
She led the way into the kitchen and indicated for Father Adam to take a seat at the table. “Anne, if you are up to it, can you prepare breakfast for our guest?” In answer, Anne wiped her tears and bobbed her head. Dishing out a bowl of hot porridge for the priest, she set it before the kind man, hurrying to pour a cup of fresh milk for him. Eiry faced Friar Tuck. “Please inform your order our plans have drastically changed. I will come and make arrangements with your superior soon. Peace be with us all."
Friar Tuck mumbled a prayer and made the sign of the Cross before he hurried out the back door of the kitchen. She watched from the window, almost laughing at the priest's several failed attempts upon climbing on aboard his ornery donkey. At last Friar Tuck was successful and was soon trotting as fast as the discontented animal was willing to move. Eiry prayed for his safe passage, needing him to find Robin and inform him of her need to speak with him.
Father Adam sat at the long table, confused by what was happening around him. “Lady Eiry, are you and the Duke married?"
Blushing, Eiry shook her head. “No, I am his ward's maid.” Her eyes flickered over to Lilia who was still upset by what she'd witnessed outside. The child was sitting on the ground, drawing circles in the soot by the fireplace, a glazed expression on her feature. In shock no doubt, Eiry thought mournfully.
"Ward? Why is Lucian caring for a child? Last I heard he was riding the tournaments after fighting in the Crusades with Richard."
"William Marshall of
Pembroke offered the castle as payment if Lord Lucian would become Lilia's guardian.” Eiry smoothed back the wild curls around her sister's small, heart-shaped face, heartened when the child offered a small smile to her.
"He did what?” Father Adam exclaimed in a loud, surprised voice.
"Is it so hard to believe Lucian can be a kind and honorable man?” Eiry demanded hotly. She bit her lip, hoping she had not given the priest the wrong impression in defending Lucian.
Father Adam smiled kindly at her, a understanding expression upon his worn features. “No, my lady, I meant no disrespect to the Duke. I have known him since he came into this world, and I know what a great heart he possesses. I only worry how his mother will react to the news of his commitment here in England."
Frowning, Eiry asked, “Will the Duchess not accept Lilia?"
Taken back by the direct question, the priest replied hesitantly, “I must be honest, I do not know."
"I must see to some matters. Please, Father Adam, eat and rest.” She pressed a reassuring kiss on Lilia's forehead. “Anne, please keep the girls inside. We do not know if the day is done with us yet.” She ignored the confused look on the priest's face as she hurried out of the kitchen, needing to speak with Lucian.
If Lucian chose to return to Normandy and did not take Lilia, Eiry worried of their fate. If all failed, she knew she must run with an eight year old in tow and the Prince of England hot on their trail!
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Chapter Twelve
Lucian took in the scene out in the courtyard. The peasants were attempting to go back to work, though more than two-thirds had disappeared. Many wore worried looks, while others expressed outrage.
