Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Then mayhap he should look elsewhere other than the guilds. After all, the guilds would never do something like that.”

  “I’m not so sure,” said Muriel, looking at her work. “After all, Oliver Card and some of the other guild members seem to have a lot of power. You saw what they took from me, just because they could.”

  “It was to pay your father’s debts. And Oliver is also our town’s mayor. I can’t believe you just said that!”

  She stopped spinning now, and stuck the spindle in her bag. “I don’t care who he is, I still don’t trust him. Cecily, we both know the debts my father had were far less than what the guild took for compensation. And they excommunicated me as well just because I’m a woman.”

  “That’s not uncommon. You are not a widow, but a daughter of a guildsman so that is different.”

  “Is it? My brother is a boy, yet he is not welcome either. I swear, it is as if they want us out of the way.”

  “Nonsense. How could you even think that?”

  “Cecily,” called out the girl’s mother from the cart. “Please go tell your stepfather the children are tired and hungry. We’d like to leave soon.”

  Muriel looked up at the woman and almost gasped. Cecily’s mother always seemed to have bruises, but this time her eye was even swollen shut.

  “I’ll tell him, Mother,” Cecily called out.

  “What happened to your mother’s eye?” asked Muriel.

  “Oh . . . she walked into a door chasing the baby, that’s all.”

  Muriel didn’t think the woman was a simpleton, but mayhap so. “Your mother doesn’t look happy.”

  “Why do you say that?” snapped Cecily defensively.

  “I just meant, she looks drained and tired.”

  “Ever since the death of my father years ago, she has not been herself.”

  “Your brothers and sisters are much younger than you. I know they are your half-siblings, but does your stepfather still think you should have to raise them?”

  “Yes, he does. And since he does nothing to help my mother raise them, I have no choice. Sometimes, I don’t think he even wants to have children or be married at all.”

  Muriel didn’t have time to respond to that. Cecily’s stepfather came barreling down the docks toward their cart that was already loaded down with traded goods. The stamped parchment with the tallied goods that had been taxed stuck out of the bag thrown over his shoulder.

  “Mother says the kids are tired and hungry,” Cecily told him.

  “Let’s go,” the man ordered, as if he were in a big hurry.

  “Goodbye,” called out Cecily as her stepfather hurried her toward their wagon – the wagon that Muriel realized used to be her father’s at one time. She noticed the parchment fall out of the man’s travel bag, and the wind picked up, blowing it down the wharf towards the water.

  “You dropped something,” Muriel called out, and chased after the parchment. She made it to the docks just before it went over the edge and into the water, stamping her foot atop it to stop it. She saw both halves of the port’s seal stamped on the outside of the document from the Collector of Customs and the Controller of Customs as well.

  She picked it up, and when she did, it fell open. Her gaze settled on the receipt, and her eyes opened wide when she realized it was blank! She’d seen Cecily’s stepfather’s cart loaded down with many goods, and by right each of those items should be listed on the parchment now in her hand. If they had been tallied correctly, the receipts would show exactly the amount of goods he’d paid taxes on. But for some reason, the receipt was blank.

  “Give me that,” called out Samuel, as he ran toward her. Muriel held it behind her back and the man grabbed her opposite wrist hard and twisted it. She cried out thinking he was going to break her bone. “That is mine and you have no right to touch it.”

  Then she heard another man’s voice and saw the baron rushing over with his hand atop the hilt of his sword.

  “Let go of the girl,” he called out, and the man dropped her wrist immediately. Muriel already saw a bruise forming from the man’s hold. “Muriel what have you got there?”

  “Samuel dropped his receipt, and I caught it from going into the water,” she told him.

  “Let me see it,” the baron said with an outstretched hand. “I am checking receipts today.”

  “My lord, I have the parchment stamped with the two halves of the seal,” Samuel pointed out. “I’ve already paid the taxes due.”

  Nicholas looked over to his cart surveying his goods. “Has everything been recorded in the collector’s ledger?” he asked.

  “Of course, my lord.”

  He continued to hold his hand out to Muriel. “I’ll take a look at it anyway. Muriel, hand it to me.”

  She looked back to Samuel who was shooting daggers with his eyes at her. Then she glanced over to Cecily and her mother and children waiting for the man in the cart. She knew having a blank document was going to get the man arrested, fined and punished, and mayhap even killed. She also realized now that he was probably the one giving his wife the bruises. If he became angered, he’d probably hit his wife or possibly some of the children in retaliation. She didn’t want that.

  He was the main supporter of the family, and she didn’t want to see Cecily’s family lose everything the way she had. It was a terrible feeling, and if the baron hadn’t helped her and Isaac, they’d be homeless on the streets right now. With just one word from her, Cecily’s family’s lives would more or less be over.

  “Muriel? I’m waiting.” Nicholas’s voice was stern.

  Samuel’s silent stare begged her not to hand it over, and she was so confused right now she wasn’t sure what to do. Cecily was her best friend, and she didn’t want to lose her too. If she gave the parchment to the baron, she knew her friendship with Cecily would be over.

  A strong wind picked up and Muriel took her hand from behind her back and held the parchment out to the baron. But right before he could grab it, she opened her fingers and purposely let the parchment go. It flew up into the air, and over the edge of the pier, landing far out on the water.

  “Muriel, why did you let it go?” Nicholas was certainly not happy with her.

  “I’m sorry, my lord, the wind took it from my hand.” She looked back at Samuel who was still glaring at her, but at the same time giving her a slight nod of approval.

  “Fine. Merchant, you can go to the Customs booth and ask the Collector to write up another one for you,” Nicholas told him.

  “Aye, milord, thank you.” The man ran off, and Muriel just watched the parchment floating away. She should be happy she did something to help her friend, but at the same time she was miserable. Nicholas was right. There was corruption amongst the guilds, and Cecily’s father was involved. Could her father have been involved as well? She didn’t want to think so.

  “Romney,” yelled out a man, and she looked up to see Baron Hastings, and Baron Sandwich headed toward them quickly with Nicholas’s squire and Isaac following right behind. Nicholas’s friends had been making many visits to New Romney lately, and she realized that the three barons were good friends.

  “I’ve got matters to attend to, what is it you need?” He looked at her while he spoke, and she felt as if he knew she’d betrayed him.

  “A messenger brought this from your manor,” said John, handing Nicholas the missive. “He said it was of utmost importance.”

  Nicholas took the missive and opened it, and his eyes scanned the parchment. Then his face became stone-like and a gray wash colored his skin.

  “What is the matter?” asked Conlin with concern.

  “It’s from Pensworth.”

  “From your father?” Muriel stretched her neck to try to read it.

  “Yes,” Nicholas folded the missive and stuck it into his waistband.

  “Something’s wrong, very wrong, I can tell,” said Muriel.

  He looked up at his friends, and then over to Muriel. “You were right, an
d now I am too late.”

  “My lord?” she asked in question.

  “I should have told her years ago, but now I can’t.”

  “You make no sense, Romney,” spat John. “Tell us what’s in the missive.”

  “It’s a missive from my father. He is sending the news that my mother has died.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “My lord, I am so sorry about your mother.” Muriel ran after Nicholas as he made his way down the wharf, his boot heels clunking loudly on the wooden slats as he walked. The winds had picked up and there was a strong smell of fish in the air. The dockworkers scurried about, conversing with the tradesmen and merchants, and they all hurried to get things under cover before it rained. Nicholas headed back toward the dock stable that held his horse. His friends were at his side, and his squire and Isaac followed as well.

  “I’ll need someone to cover for me while I’m gone,” said Nicholas, ignoring her completely. “There is deceit and mayhap smuggling on the docks of New Romney, and it is a bad time for me to be away.”

  “I can stay at your manor for a few days,” offered Lord Conlin.

  “As will I,” added Lord John.

  “Then it’s settled. Squire, we will leave for Pensworth immediately for my mother’s funeral.”

  “Aye, my lord,” said the squire.

  “How long will you be gone?” asked Muriel, trying to gain his attention.

  “Roger, run ahead and tell my steward we’ll need provisions.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Roger took off at a run, and Isaac followed on his heels.

  “What shall I do while you’re gone?” Muriel tried once again to engage him in conversation.

  “Do what you want, I don’t care,” he told her.

  “I’ll make sure to keep her occupied,” said Lord John, slowing to walk next to her. “Since you are the clothier, mayhap you can make me some clothes while I’m in New Romney.”

  “I’d like to see you spin again,” said Conlin, slowing to walk with her as well. “You have amazing fingers. Perhaps tonight you will spin by the fire as Lord John and I drink ale. We’d love to watch.”

  “Nay!” Nicholas called out without turning around. “Muriel will not be here.”

  “I won’t?” The silly idea of him possibly taking her with him flitted through her brain.

  “Nay, you’ll go back to town and stay there while I’m gone.”

  “What? Why?” Muriel was flabbergasted that he would even suggest such a thing.

  “Aye, why would you do such a thing, Romney?” asked Lord John.

  “With you two wolves, she’ll be like a lost sheep being sent to the slaughter. I can’t have that.”

  “Come now, Romney, you can trust us,” said Conlin. “We know she is your girl.”

  “She’s my clothier, naught else,” said Nicholas, continuing to walk. “And I trust you two, it’s the girl I can’t trust.”

  “How dare you say that!” Muriel ran in front of him and stopped with her hands on her hips. He stopped in his tracks. “How can you say that, after all we’ve been through?”

  “Get out of my way,” he told her in a low voice. “And do not talk to me that way again. You just deliberately disobeyed my orders back there.” His hand pointed back to the docks. “Was there possibly something on that parchment that you didn’t want me to see?”

  “Nay.” She looked the other way rather than right at him. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you purposely released it into the wind, sending it into the water.”

  “She did?” asked Conlin.

  “Muriel, are you helping the guild cover up something?” Nicholas looked into her eyes when he spoke and she knew he would be able to see through her lies.

  “I hold no respect for the guild after what they did to me,” she retorted.

  “Then why are you helping the man? There is deceit and disloyalty here, and I’m starting to wonder if you are a part of it.”

  “Me? Do you really think I’d do anything to deliberately betray you after all you’ve done for me?”

  “Aye, he has done a lot for you,” agreed John.

  “I don’t know what to think anymore,” snapped Nicholas, stepping around her and continuing to walk. “All I know is that you are not allowed in my manor until I return.”

  “What about Isaac?” she asked. “Are you throwing him out as well?”

  “Isaac is welcome to stay and continue weaving.” He got to the dock stables, and a boy brought him his horse. He mounted and looked down at Muriel, and she could see the anger as well as the disappointment in his eyes. What had she done? By withholding information, she was putting a wedge in between them. But she knew what happened to traitors and it didn’t fare well for Cecily’s entire family if they were convicted. She needed to talk to Cecily and find out more information before she told Lord Nicholas the truth. “I expected more from you, Muriel. This has proven to be a major disappointment.”

  With that he rode away, followed by the other two barons, leaving her alone on the windy wharf. Her heart sank and her previously wonderful feeling now turned into a sour knot twisting in her gut. She felt like she was going to be sick, and she knew she had no one but herself to blame for the outcome of this situation. If only Nicholas wasn’t leaving immediately, mayhap she’d have time to sort this all out. But now, as he rode away, she had the horrible feeling that he was riding out of her life – forever.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A week went by, and Muriel was miserable each day she’d had to stay in town and away from the manor. By right, she should have been evicted from her shop by now, but Brother Germain had felt sorry for her, and told her they would do an exchange, since he would owe her rent for having his sheep on the marshlands soon anyway. He’d also brought her food and ale since he knew she had no money.

  She’d heard from the monk that the baron had postponed the banquet as well as the trade fair, but that he should be returning any day now. It pained her not to be able to even work on the rest of the nobles’ clothes, but she wasn’t allowed at the manor in the baron’s absence. Nicholas had even told Isaac that he wasn’t to bring anything from the manor to Muriel while he was away. All she’d had to calm her nerves was her lone spindle. But she had no wool to spin, so it did her little good.

  She now walked into Cecily’s family’s shop, hoping this time her good friend would talk to her. Each time she’d come by during the week, Samuel had been there and had told her to leave. This time, she’d seen Samuel going toward the other end of town, and knew he wasn’t here, so she thought she’d try again.

  “Muriel, what are you doing here?” Cecily looked up from her spinning. Her mother picked up one of the children and attached the little boy to her hip.

  “Tell her to leave, Cecily,” said the girl’s mother. “Your stepfather will be home soon and it will make him angry.”

  “Muriel, you’d better go.” Cecily put down her things.

  “I want to talk with you. Please,” she begged the girl.

  “There is nothing to talk about. My stepfather told us that you were trying to have him arrested by the baron.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Muriel, everyone knows about you and the baron. The guild has given orders that none of us are to talk to you again, or we will be excommunicated from the guilds.”

  “That’s preposterous! Can’t you see they are doing something illegal, and just want to keep it quiet?”

  “Your stepfather’s coming,” said her mother with fear in her voice. “Cecily, make her leave now.”

  “Muriel, please. You need to go.”

  “Cecily, that receipt I released into the water was blank. Your stepfather is cheating the baron and the king, and you need to know it.”

  “What are you doing here?” came a deep growl from behind her. She turned to see not only Samuel, but also Thomas, Bertron, and Oliver, the head of the Clothmaker’s Guild with him. She wasn’t sure how many of the
m were involved in this, and didn’t want to accuse them all while she was unprotected.

  “I was just leaving,” she said, trying to step around him, but he blocked the door.

  “If you try to cause trouble for me again, I swear you will pay for it, do you understand?”

  “What?” asked Cecily in surprise. “Are you threatening my good friend, Stepfather?”

  “Samuel, we will be leaving now,” said Oliver, and he and the other men left abruptly.

  “Mother, what is going on?” asked Cecily, looking back toward the woman, who put the child down and walked forward.

  “Cecily, you need to be quiet now,” her mother warned.

  “If you try anything, I will drag you and your brother down with me,” threatened Samuel.

  “We haven’t done anything,” stated Muriel. “Why would we be punished?”

  “Because your father was running an illicit operation and that is why he was killed. I will tell the baron everything he did, and you and your brother will pay for his crimes. I will tell him that you were a part of it as well.”

  “Nay,” shouted Muriel. “That’s not true. My father would never do such a thing, and my brother and I are involved in nothing.” She started to feel very sick again. She pushed past the man and ran out into the street, stopping and turning around when she heard the slap of skin against skin from behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see the man hitting his wife.

  “How could you two let her in here after you knew you weren’t supposed to talk with her? Now I’ll be kicked out of the guild because of it,” came Samuel’s angry voice. Then the man grabbed a hold of Cecily’s arm, and Muriel knew she had to help her friend. She ran back and grabbed his arm from behind, and he turned and punched her in the face instead. She moved her head quickly, but still managed to get clipped in the jaw. She fell to the ground, and pain shot through her.

  “Muriel, leave now!” Cecily ran over and helped her to her feet and pushed her out the door.

  “Nay, I can’t leave you like this.”