by Shea,Lisa
She looked forward to the inn with a smile. Father Berram stood by the door, leaning against the door frame for support, waving feebly at the group. She waved back, her spirit lightening.
They were all together again. Somehow they would find an answer to all of their problems.
Jack was at her side, looping his arm around her waist, and all concerns fled her mind. Whatever came tomorrow, they would face it together. She knew with certainty that she would never leave his side again.
Chapter 25
Tuesday morning dawned with shimmering light, and Catherine took it as a good omen. She stretched in the warm golden glow, turning to nestle against Jack. He drew a hand slowly along her waist, his eyes thickening with passion as she slid her hips against his.
His voice came out as a hoarse murmur. “We do have somewhere to be …”
“Not for another hour or two yet,” she responded with a chuckle, giving an additional movement of her hip.
He moaned, and then he was kissing her, and time stood still, tracked only by the progress of the sun across the polished wood floor.
A while later, there was a knock at the door, and Peter’s cheerful voice came calling through the wood. “All right, you two, time for breakfast,” he teased merrily. Catherine gave a final kiss to Jack before rolling out of bed. The two dressed quickly, joining the group down in the main room.
Breakfast was complete before they knew it and in short order they all walked together to Westminster Abbey. A full complement of guards accompanied them, seeing them safely from the inn’s quiet courtyard, through the awakening streets of London and finally up to the massive wooden doors of the abbey.
The soldiers halted outside the doors, watching over the group as they relinquished their arms and entered the holy walls. Catherine and Jack both paused for a moment before handing over their weapons into the safekeeping of the brothers.
For the first time in many weeks, Catherine felt truly safe as she and Jack walked side by side through the halls of the Abbey. All of the threats were in the past now. Carl and Craig were dead. Conrad and Marc were slain. Raymond himself was now buried. It was just left to figure out why this had all happened.
Passing a row of low windows, she caught her own reflection. She wore a tan tunic, with her hair flowing loose down her back. She twined her fingers into Jack’s, looking up at him with fondness. His leather armor was well used but neat, and she could see the cuts from the recent battle in the seams. On his chest, the blue medallion shone. His answering smile was calm and content.
Turning a corner, they found that Sir Magnor was standing in the hall before them. Magnor’s eyes sharpened at their approach, and he walked up to stand before Jack. He spoke without preamble.
“My lands are mine. My parents made me swear it on each of their deathbeds. I will hold to my oath. None from your line shall ever have them.”
Magnor paused a minute, then continued with a steely undertone. “As you know, I have no heir. Therefore, I have signed my rights away. All of my lands go over to the church on my death, to guarantee that you cannot lay claim to them. This cannot be revoked.”
Jack met his gaze steadily. “I have no need of your lands,” he replied without malice. “I already have all I need, right here by my side.”
Sir Magnor considered this for a long while, his eyes considering Jack with sharp attention. Then he put his hand forward.
Jack took it, and the men clasped hands for a long moment. Satisfied, Magnor turned and escorted them through the short hallway into the circular chapter house.
The chapter house was lined with stone benches around its outer walls, and the members of the enclave filed in, sitting on the benches in two rows. Catherine found many familiar faces in the group around the walls, and nodded her greeting to several old friends. John had not been allowed to attend owing to his youth, but Father Berram stood to one side, waiting for her. His embrace seemed more feeble than usual, and as she moved to find a seat, he stayed close to her, gratefully accepting her assistance in negotiating the worn steps.
Jack waited for the two to get settled before sitting on Catherine’s other side, his hand absently going to where his sword usually hung. Peter noticed the gesture and smiled slightly. He leant over to whisper, “I must have done that ten times myself.”
Peter helped settle Susan and Marcie on his other side, then sat. Lord Xavier stopped to converse with an old friend before coming over to join the group as well.
Catherine carefully ran her gaze across each person in the room. Most she knew, but a few she did not. There were still too many questions left unanswered to assume all were friends. In all, there were perhaps thirty people in the room, preparing to share what they knew to get to the bottom of the situation.
Soon the bells rang eleven a.m. and the gentle murmur of conversation in the room settled down into quiet. All eyes turned expectantly to the main doors, waiting for the Abbot to join them and guide the discussions. Footsteps sounded and approached the entryway of the chapter house.
Lord Epworth stepped into view, his richly embroidered purple cloak billowing theatrically around him. He smiled with delight as the shock of recognition ran around the room.
“Greetings, my brethren,” he intoned in a clear, smooth voice which echoed around the stone walls. “Word reached me of the tragic recent events. I felt it my duty to postpone my travel and come lend my aid. This situation was far too important to leave in the hands of other men.”
Jack stood slowly, and Catherine found her gaze moving between the two men, realizing that Jack wore the symbol of his engagement to her on his chest. She realized that Lord Epworth would surely understand the significance at once. This was not the way she would have wanted him to learn that she had replaced his rejected courtship with a pledge to his foster son.
Jack’s voice was low but steady. “Father, it is good to see you. If we might have a word outside -”
To Catherine’s relief, Lord Epworth barely glanced at his foster son, and waved for him to sit down.
“There will be time enough for reunions later, Jack. For now, let us focus on the task at hand. First, are we all here?”
The group looked around slowly, and murmured assents came from all sides. The room was comfortably full, with people seated evenly around its outer edges, resting back on the low stone bench. The tiled floor in the center was open, with Lord Epworth standing in its center. The high sills of the stained glass windows began over their heads. None could look in through that thick, colored glass to spy on their proceedings. They were ready.
“Wonderful,” agreed Lord Epworth with a smile. “Well then ... Father Berram?”
Catherine turned to see what the elderly man on her left would bring to this discussion. He had brought the small, bound codex in with him, refusing to allow anybody else to carry it. He struggled to his feet, and Catherine gently helped him stand. He leaned on her gratefully as she supported him down the steps and into the center of the room to stand with Lord Epworth.
Lord Epworth nodded. “Ah, here you are, my old friend,” he greeted congenially. “I have heard from the Abbey priests what has gone on until today. It appears there are still some outstanding issues. I believe it is time for us to resolve those.”
Father Berram fumbled awkwardly with his parcel, and in the process of turning it in his hands, he dropped it with a loud, soft thud onto the stone floor. Feeling sympathy for the elderly man with so many eyes watching him, Catherine stooped down to retrieve it for him.
The sharp bite of cold steel pressed against her throat. She froze instantly in shocked instinct. To her side, Lord Epworth had not moved - he simply watched with amusement. Slowly she was pressed back into a standing position by the sharp dagger of Father Berram, held by a rock steady arm.
She saw Jack and her friends frozen in mid-movement, a tense look of focused attention on Jack’s face.
Jack face held a mixture of bafflement and fury. “Lord Epworth, what are you
doing?”
Lord Epworth basked in the attention, and bent down theatrically to pick up the codex at his feet. He tossed it easily to Jack, who caught it in one hand. “Why, see for yourself,” he offered with a smile.
Jack looked down to turn through the pages. He stopped suddenly, his brow creasing in confusion. He turned and held the codex up to the assembled group, turning the pages to face them.
Catherine blinked in bafflement. Every page that he turned was empty and unblemished by a single spot of ink.
Her voice was hoarse. “I do not understand ...?”
Lord Epworth’s eyes twinkled. “Nor did Michael, although he did not have long to think about his findings. He was always too inquisitive for his own good.” He turned to grin down at Catherine. “Still, I am surprised that you do not comprehend the significance. Perhaps that training your family gave you was not as thorough as it should have been.”
He looked up at the crowd, pitching his voice to fill the room. “From those first fortuitous days that Carl and Craig brought Jack to me, I have been planning my future. Have you not been following the changes in fortune of King John? His base of support shrinks with each passing day. He has been excommunicated by the Pope, and is desperate for assistance. He is willing to levy huge taxes from our starving population to serve his own needs. In particular, he has offered to pay incredibly large bounties to those who bring him land with mineral wealth. He needs fuel and ore for his plans of conquest. All I needed was the land and the workers to mine it.”
Jack held up the book. “So you invented a story to prod Lord Raymond into action? Making him think that his plans were not foolproof enough?”
Lord Epworth smiled in delight. “Exactly. We allowed Raymond to hear rumors that the diary contained proof of what he was up to – that it laid out the genealogies in clear detail.”
He chuckled quietly. “As I knew he would, Raymond panicked. Once he failed to get his hands on the diary itself, he felt he had to quickly acquire both Lord Magnor’s land and the Bowyers’ before either could prepare for his actions. He felt that once the lands were in his name, he could move in his forces and easily hold off any subsequent claimants.”
Lord Epworth shrugged and spread his arms. “I simply had to allow him to wipe out the existing leaders of each side, and then take him out myself. I would be the savior - the church moving in to protect the war-torn innocents. To assist in my own claims, I had Catherine practically guaranteed as my wife, which covered the Bowyer side, and you as my son, taking care of the Magnor angle. Everything was working out perfectly.”
A small pout appeared on Lord Epworth’s lips. “I admit I was a bit surprised when Raymond razed his own family’s town. I knew the man was unstable, but that show of temper was rather much. He had several shipments of slaves coming in to handle the mining operations, and the Bowyers threatened to free them, to fight him in every way to keep their home from becoming a slave state. They said they would rather die, and Raymond granted them that option.”
He shrugged. “I would have found a way to enslave the Bowyers along with the rest. Why waste the resources of able-bodied men and women? Still, what can you do. He chose his path, and it did not concern me much either way. I had the slaves coming in, and the land ripe for plundering.”
He shook his head. “Then you, my darling foster son, became unexpectedly rebellious. The next thing I knew, you had caused my wife-to-be to run off. However, even with your interference, it still seemed that at least her death was guaranteed, as she was moving in Raymond’s direction. Not quite as neat as if she had become my wife, but still an acceptable solution.”
Jack stepped forward in anger, and Catherine gasped as Father Berram’s strong grip pressed the dagger tightly against her neck. A warm trickle of blood traced a slow path down her throat. Jack froze instantly, his face a mask of fury.
“Let her go,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “You cannot get away with this.”
Lord Epworth cocked an eyebrow. “Ah, my dear foster son, but we already have,” he commented lightly. “King John is very pleased with my offerings. Magnor’s lands are mine; he signed them over to me himself, as the representative of the church. Raymond’s lands will shortly be mine, as he died an enemy of the state. Who is left to rival my claim to the lands of the Bowyer? It is all quite legal and proper. I have the minerals to mine, and the slaves to mine it with. Any resistance has been wiped out for me. I am now one of the wealthiest men in the nation. The only question remaining is one for Catherine.”
He turned slightly to face her furious gaze, and chuckled condescendingly at her. “What will it be, my dear? Will you voluntarily agree to wed me, and stay alive? If you choose death, there will be no more contenders for the Bowyer property, and it will fall to me anyway. You do realize that your mother made me guardian of you and your estate, planning forward to the fateful day of our joyous union. Since you have no other kin alive ...”
Lord Epworth smiled at the irony of the moment. “In fact,” he continued with quiet glee, “Father Berram is a consecrated priest. He can marry us in the holy bonds of matrimony, right now. We will be done with it in only a few minutes time.”
Jack spoke up hotly. “If you force her to marry under duress, that vow will be declared invalid. I will go to the Pope myself and -”
Lord Epworth waved his hand as if an annoying insect had come nearby. “Ah, Jack,” he rebutted mildly. “Do you think King John or I am overly concerned about what the Pope says at the moment? We are already excommunicated. John’s word is the alpha and the omega. All that concerns us is that she goes through the motions, and that the land is signed over to me. Once our forces get onto the property, I believe possession is nine-tenths of the law. If she does not choose to wed me, we simply slay her, and the land falls to me quite legally anyway.”
He turned to look over at Catherine again. “So, what shall it be?”
Catherine looked down for a moment, then turned and steadily met Jack’s gaze. Her voice did not waver. “I am promised to Jack,” she solemnly vowed. “There will never be another man in my life.” Resolve steeled her heart. She would rather die than to let herself become a pawn of Lord Epworth.
Quiet fatalism spread over her. The only reason Jack and Peter were frozen in place was that she was being held hostage. She could drive an elbow into Father Berram’s ribs and take her chances. Whether she got free or not, Jack would see to it that these two did not harm any other person, ever again.
Jack’s face froze, and she knew he read the desperation of her plans in her eyes. His grey eyes held hers, the swirling clouds in his gaze dark and unreadable.
His voice came to her in a distant call, soft and low. “Catherine, do you trust me?”
Catherine took in a deep breath. Her mood calmed as she allowed herself to be caught by his gaze. She held her head high, time slowing for her. She felt herself treasuring each moment she had spent with Jack. Even if it all ended now, it had been worth it. A smile spread slowly on her lips. “Infinitely,” she promised, her eyes locked on his.
Jack looked around the room to the stunned members. “Everybody, please move back against the wall. Make no move against Lord Epworth or Father Berram.”
As instructed, the various members stood and moved back to press their backs against the circular stone walls of the room. Lord Epworth smiled with pleasure as his plans moved forward so easily.
Jack and Peter stood side by side against the wall, in line with everybody else. Jack held Catherine’s gaze, his face tense with concentration. When he spoke again, his voice was low but firm. “My love, for me ... kneel at Father Berram’s feet as Lord Epworth has instructed.”
Lord Epworth clapped his hands in glee. “Why, this is perfect! Her true love pushes her into my arms, and into my bed!”
A soft growl sounded in Jack’s throat, and Lord Epworth’s grin widened in response.
Lord Epworth then looked over to Catherine. She watched his gaze move from the d
agger held tightly at her throat, down to the thin line of red which she could feel tracing a path between her breasts.
His voice became condescending, shaking his head at her as he might to a child. “Little one, listen to your beloved. He is speaking sense. It is about time you agreed to marry me, as your mother and council ordered you to. You were willful to disobey them.”
He paused for a moment, then his grin grew wolfish. “Do keep in mind, though, that I am a jealous man. Once we are wed, you will not be allowed to see Jack again. Still, at least you will be alive, and he will remain alive as well. He can think of you, every day – of how you warm my bed for me ...”
Catherine did not deign to respond to Lord Epworth’s taunts. She turned to focus on Jack’s eyes, drawing a rein on her anger, willing herself to believe in him even as she was bewildered by his instructions. Surely Jack would not condemn her to a life as Lord Epworth’s wife.
Jack did not say anything further; his eyes pleaded with her to trust … to trust ...
Catherine took a deep, steadying breath, the sharpness of the dagger cutting into her skin with the action. It was time to make a choice. Whatever else Jack had said, he had asked her to trust him. She would do that without question.
Sensing her movement, Father Berram slightly released the pressure at her throat, and she obediently lowered herself to her knees. Her cheeks flushed crimson with shame.
Father Berram moved around to stand between her and Lord Epworth. Lord Epworth gazed down at Catherine with a lecherous grin, sweeping his eyes along the length of her body. Catherine deliberately did not return that gaze. She kept her focus on Jack. If this was to be her last look at him, she would burn it into her memory.
There was a pause that seemed to last an eternity, and then suddenly Jack and Peter whirled into motion. Their hands went to the ledges of the windows high overhead. A split second later, two metal streaks blurred inches over her head. Lord Epworth and Berram gave strangled cries of shock, then both men toppled over backwards, a dagger sticking from each man’s chest.
