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Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 02

Page 7

by A Knight of Battle


  “Unfortunately, I agree,” Albin responded. “I shall escort Lecie back to the inn and meet back up with you at the ale stand.”

  Lecie glanced towards the center of the square where the stage was set. “What of the children? Shall we fetch them as well?”

  “Leofrick will keep an eye on them until I return,” Albin assured her. “At least they can still enjoy the day.”

  Hugging Mylla, Lecie whispered, “Have faith in him.”

  “I shall,” Mylla whispered back. “You do the same.”

  Setting off in opposite directions, Lecie led the way through the milling throngs as Albin lightly rested his hand on the small of her back.

  A pair of jesters briefly blocked their way, dancing around them and tossing flower petals above their heads. Bowing low before her, one of the jesters presented Lecie with a blue silk kerchief.

  Accepting a coin from Albin, his glowering gaze had them moving off as a group of children followed behind.

  Albin slowed as they passed through the last of the stalls. Spotting a table set with an array of hair ornaments, he guided her forward. “Take your pick to remember the day by.”

  “That is not necessary, Sir Albin. I shall always remember this day.”

  Gesturing to the table with a sweep of his hand, he smiled. “Humor me.”

  Her stomach fluttering by the look in his eyes, Lecie perused the hair combs. Her eye resting on a delicate silver comb fashioned into a butterfly, she picked it up. “This one is beautiful.”

  Settling a price with the vendor, Albin passed the man a few coins.

  “Thank you, Sir Albin,” she spoke as soon as they stepped away from the booth.

  “You are most welcome. May I?” Taking the comb from Lecie’s hand, he smoothed the hair behind her ear to fasten it. “Beautiful indeed.”

  Once they were clear of crowd, Albin once again extended his arm to her. “It is not how I envisioned the day to go.”

  “Aside from the justice’s appearance, I found it quite enjoyable.”

  “You are just saying that to be kind.”

  Pleased to have him all to herself she glanced up at him. “It is the truth.”

  Cupping her hand where it rested lightly on his arm, Albin smiled. “I often think you are too good to be true.”

  At a loss for what to say, Lecie nervously changed the subject. “Do you think Sir Talan would have drawn his sword against the king’s justice?”

  “Where Mylla is concerned I have ceased to be surprised by what the lad does.”

  “Still, you do not think he would have actually done it? Surely he would have been cut down on the spot.”

  “A man in love is not bound to be rational when his love is threatened, regardless of the cost to himself.”

  Drawing to a halt, Lecie looked up at him. “Is their love hopeless, Sir Albin?”

  Albin cupped her cheek with a sad smile. “I believe where there is love there is always hope.”

  “I shall pray it is so.”

  Looking away, he heaved an uneasy breath. “I best see you back.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence, each lost to their own thoughts.

  Entering through the back door of the inn, Lecie smiled up at him. “Thank you for the day and the beautiful comb.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Her heart began to pound as he met her gaze. Swallowing hard, her lips parted to speak and felt foolish when she could think of nothing to say.

  Albin’s hand reached out to her before he pulled it back. “You have a flower petal tangled in your tresses.”

  “Oh.” Lecie’s hand shook as she ran her fingers through her hair. “It must have come from the jesters.”

  Slowly reaching his hand out, he pulled the white petal free. “Most likely.”

  Her throat felt dry as he raised the petal to his nose before tucking it into the belt of his tunic. Willing him to kiss her, she stepped closer.

  “Lecie…” Abruptly clearing his throat, Albin stepped back. “I really need to talk to you.”

  “Is not that what you are doing right now?”

  “It is,” he agreed. “Only I had a more serious talk in mind.”

  “Oh?” Her hopes lighting her eyes to a brilliant sparkle she smiled. “I thought you had to return to the festival?”

  “I do…I meant another time.”

  “I shall be here when you return,” she whispered tilting her face up for a kiss. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands slid through her tresses to cradle the back of her head. Focusing on his lips, her tongue darted out to moisten her own.

  “Lecie,” he spoke low as if in torment.

  Closing her eyes, she leaned into him to wrap her arms around his waist.

  Gently kissing her forehead, he stood as if undecided. After a long tense moment, he released her to step back. “I must go.”

  * * *

  Once again confused by his manner, Lecie remained in the kitchen after Albin departed, to check on the meal preparations.

  Betta had the stew finished, and trenchers and rolls waiting. Making note to make it up to her, she passed into the common room to survey the cleanliness with a critical eye.

  She looked up with a frown as the tavern wench, Harsent, came sauntering down the steps. Dressed in a soiled rough woolen kirtle of brown and stained cream kirtle, her graying black hair escaped its loose braid.

  “You assured me last eve the floors would be seen to by this morn, Harsent.”

  “Leave off, Lecie. You know I have been ill,” Harsent, pouted.

  “Only from the amount of drink you imbibe in the evenings,” Lecie scolded. “In that alone you do not hold up your end of the board agreement.”

  “Your father was much more understanding and pleasant,” Harsent mumbled. “I do not see you treating Gunilda and Betta the way you do me.”

  “Gunilda and Betta see to their tasks without having to constantly be reminded of them,” Lecie replied sharply. “Come dark, the inn shall be fair to bursting with revelers. I suggest you see to the floor by then.”

  “I see no point in cleaning something that is only going to get soiled again.” Harsent huffed as she passed Lecie on her way to the kitchen for a wash bucket.

  Lecie headed up the steps for one last check on her father before the inn began to fill. A shadow crossed her eyes to see him resting uneasily. Sitting with him, she dabbed at his brow with a cool cloth until the late afternoon sun began to slant across the floor.

  “I love you, Da,” she whispered as she leaned over him to kiss his damp brow. Straightening she shrieked as someone seized her arms roughly from behind.

  “Keep your trap shut or you will wake him.”

  Breaking free, she whirled around to face an agitated Hamon. “Take your hands from me,” she seethed. “Why are you even here? You very well know Joseph cannot attend the stand alone.”

  Out of breath, his eyes darted over his shoulder as he once again seized her upper arm. “Your man is on his way back to the inn and before he arrives, you and I need to settle a few things.”

  “Unhand me, Hamon.” Lecie winced in pain as he half-dragged her out of the room and down the passageway. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Pulling her around the steps leading to her garret, Hamon forced her into the children’s chamber.

  Suddenly afraid of his intentions, she began to struggle in earnest as he turned to bolt the door. “I demand that you unhand me or I shall scream the rafters down.”

  In response, Hamon slapped her hard across the face. Shoving her down on the edge of Clayton’s pallet, he moved to stand above her. “I do not have time to play nice so I suggest you listen well.”

  “How dare you,” Lecie breathed, raising a hand to her stinging cheek. “If my father had any intentions of keeping you on, I vow he will not any longer once I inform him of this.”

  “Shut your mouth or I shall give you another,” Hamon snarled. “I have had enough of try
ing to woo you with kindness.”

  “Woo me?” Lecie moved to stand. “I would rather starve and be homeless than accept one such as you.”

  “After seeing you with Sir Albin, I know that now.” Shoving her back down on the bed, he leaned close to her suddenly frightened face. “I also know you would do anything for the young ones.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lecie’s heart began to pound in fear as she stared up at him.

  “Your lover and his friend caught me filching from the till. They now intend to bring the sheriff back with them to have me arrested.”

  “You stole from my father?” Enraged, Lecie gained her feet. “How dare you, after all he has done for you?”

  Grabbing her by the throat with rough calloused hands, Hamon pressed his thumbs into her windpipe and began to squeeze.

  SIX

  “You will hold your tongue and listen to me,” Hamon ground out, with a sneer twisting his thin lips. “Do you understand?”

  Lecie clawed at his hands. Her eyes flared in fear as she nodded. She stumbled back gasping for breath when Hamon released her.

  “I see I have your full attention,” Hamon observed with a sense of satisfaction.

  “What is it you want?” Lecie rasped, backing away from him. “My father has no coin saved.”

  “It is not coin I am after,” Hamon began. “I am soon to be accused of thievery and you, my dear, will vow the charges laid against me are false.”

  “Why would I do such a thing?” Lecie’s eyes searched for something to strike him with should he attack her again. “If the charges are true, you deserve to face justice for what you have done to my father.”

  “That is where you are wrong.” Hamon’s eyes glittered as he observed her actions with a smirk. “I have no intention of swinging for taking my just due.”

  “Your just due?” Angry now, Lecie stiffened. “My father has treated you fairly and you know it.”

  “Aye, he treated me fair enough for a spell.” Hamon licked his lips as he ogled her heaving bosom. “That is, until I approached him to make an offer for you. Since then, I realized I was naught but a lowly servant in his eyes.”

  “You are also mad if you thought for one moment I would ever accept you,” Lecie snapped.

  “Mayhap I am tad on the mad side. I shall still have my way in the end.”

  “Think what you will. I for one shall speak the truth of the matter when the sheriff arrives.”

  “Not if you value the lad’s life.”

  Fear had Lecie searching Hamon’s lifeless eyes for his intent. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” Hamon replied casually. “The future of this content little family hinges on Clayton’s survival. The lad is still quite young, it would be a shame should some harm befall him before he came of age to claim his birthright.” Seeing he had Lecie’s full attention, he warmed to his subject. “He often journeys to the river’s edge with the mutt, does he not? How easy it would be for him to fall in and drown.”

  “You would not dare harm him,” Lecie spoke in a fearful whisper. “Clayton has always been fond of you.”

  “Aye, which will be of great benefit to me should it come to that,” Hamon agreed with a slight smile. “What do you think would become of the lasses were they no longer to have a roof over their pretty little heads? I would hate for them to be forced into pleasuring men for room and board at so early an age.” Leaning forward, his foul breath caressed Lecie’s face. “However, I would gladly volunteer to break them in should that time come.”

  Lecie’s hand itched to slap his smug face, yet fear held her back. “How could you be so evil and cruel to even suggest such a thing?”

  “You will soon discover I am capable of much more than suggestions.” Hamon suddenly seized Lecie’s upper arms eliciting a gasp of pain from her. “I suggest you do exactly as I say, lest my hand be forced to prove it.”

  “Unhand me,” she whispered in response. “I shall do as you say.”

  Instead of releasing her, Hamon dug his fingers into her soft flesh. “Know you this as well, should you warn your lover in any way the boy shall die.” Hamon laughed bitterly as he nodded. “Aye, I know where your mind ventured, love. You think me daft enough I have not thought my plan through? If I am seized this day or another Clayton will not live to see the next sunrise.”

  “Someone is in this with you.” Lecie struggled against him. “Gunilda.”

  “You always were a quick thinker.” Hamon yanked her against his bony chest to run his tongue along her cheek. “It is also why you will banish Albin and his fellow knight from the inn upon their return.”

  “How am I to do that?” Lecie managed as bile made its way up her throat. “His lordship is a powerful man and may make issue of having his knights barred from staying here.”

  “I have no doubt you shall think of something.” Shoving her back on the bed, Hamon’s eyes slid to her exposed legs as her kirtle flew up. “We shall talk of other things once they are gone.”

  Scrambling to her feet, Lecie boldly met his gaze. “Do I have your word no harm shall befall the children?”

  “Do as I say and I give you my word.” Hamon reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. “Treat me justly and I shall treat you well, love.”

  Turning her face away, Lecie forced herself to nod.

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, Gunilda found Lecie sobbing softly in her father’s room. “Sheriff Richard is below asking for you, Lecie.”

  Turning red, swollen eyes to Gunilda, she observed her smug air. “How could you, after all my family has done for you?” Rising from the bed, Lecie faced her. “My father took you in when you had nowhere else to go.”

  “Your father is not long for this world.” Gunilda shrugged. “Grateful as I may be, I need to secure my future.”

  “And you think Hamon is going to take care of you?” Lecie shook her head with a bitter laugh. “He thinks of only himself.”

  “Mayhap,” Gunilda agreed. “At least when he is running the inn, I shall no longer have to toil.”

  “He will never run the inn,” Lecie swore.

  “Oh?” Gunilda seemed genuinely surprised. “When he told me that he spoke to you, I thought he told you everything.”

  “Which is?”

  “Why, he intends to marry you, of course.” Gunilda smiled, exposing several missing teeth. “It is the only way to ensure his guardianship over the boy.”

  “We shall see about that.” Lecie lowered her voice when her father shifted in his fitful sleep. “I gave him my word I shall cover his thievery and send the knights from the inn.” Sweeping past Gunilda into the passageway, she added, “And that is all he shall ever get from me.”

  Gunilda followed her out to call softly, “I would not be so sure of that, Lecie. Hamon always gets what he wants.”

  Lecie felt sick to her stomach as she numbly made her way to the steps. Knowing Hamon would continue to use Clayton’s safety against her, she knew she would have no other choice than to accept him as her husband.

  She heard raised voices above the usual din of the crowd as she descended the steps to the common room. Pausing only long enough to take a breath, she ignored the sound of her heart breaking as she stepped into the midst of the turmoil.

  Flanked by his four imposing sons, Sheriff Richard moved through the crowded tables to greet her. “I fear I have brought more trouble to your door this day, Lecie.”

  “Shall we move to a quieter place, Sheriff?”

  Extending his hand in the direction of the kitchen, the sheriff allowed her to precede him. She ignored the curious gazes cast her way by the villagers as she led the group to the narrow hallway in the back of the common room alongside the bar.

  Noticeably quieter, she waited for the men to file in the passageway around her. Avoiding Albin’s concerned gaze, she clasped her hands to exude a calm she did not feel. “After these days past, I can scarce believe more trouble to be poss
ible, Sheriff. What seems to be amiss?”

  “First, I would ask after my old friend, as I have been lax on my visits to him. How is Edric faring of late?”

  “I fear he does not have much time left to live,” Lecie replied softly. “He is in so much pain I almost feel his passing will be a blessing.”

  “I am deeply sorry to hear it. If you permit, I would pay my respects before departing.”

  “Of course, Sheriff.” Lecie slightly dipped her head. “He will be most pleased to see you.”

  “Now then.” Clearing his throat, the sheriff gestured to Hamon where he stood confidently between Leofrick and Edmund. “Our visit here today has to do with the tapster here.”

  “Hamon?” Lecie’s eyes settled for a moment on the loathsome man before returning to the sheriff. “Whatever could he have done to warrant such an imposing show of force?”

  “He is a thief,” Albin spoke up from his place beside Talan. “We caught him stealing from the till not once, but twice.”

  Stealing her nerve, Lecie acknowledged Albin. “You say you saw him stealing from the till, Sir Albin?”

  “I do.” Obviously confused by her manner, Albin pinned her with his gaze. “I saw him with my own eyes yester eve and again today in the square.”

  Her heart hammering, Lecie focused on the bridge of his nose as she quirked a brow. “Do you mean to say you saw him pocket coins instead of placing them in the till?”

  “Aye, that is exactly what I mean.” Albin stepped closer to her. “Why are you acting this way, Lecie?”

  “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Are you saying you were aware of what Hamon was doing?”

  “Of course, for it was I who told him to do it.” Averting her eyes from Albin’s look of stunned surprise, she faced the sheriff. “I asked Hamon to pocket charges in the event we were raided. Surely you can see the benefit of doing so, Sheriff?”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “I can. With the festival bringing in strangers from the surrounding countryside, it is indeed sound judgment to do such a thing.”

  “Then this all seems to be naught but a misunderstanding.” Turning to Hamon, Lecie smiled. “Please serve the sheriff and his sons whatever they would like for going to such trouble on our behalf.”

 

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