Coins and Daggers

by Patrice Hannah

  A Historical Romance Novel by Patrice Hannah

  COINS & DAGGERS Copyright © 2015 by Patrice Hannah

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its author, Patrice Hannah. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2015 Patrice Hannah

  A Note From The Author

  Thanks for checking out Coins & Daggers. The plot of this book came to me one evening while staring through my bedroom window as it rained heavily outside. I must admit that I’ve never written anything close to historical romance before but I did try my best on this one. Just to be a little safe, as I’m not great at History either, I also created my own little country of Bascain. It was sort of a challenge that I had set for myself and I hope I managed to overcome it somehow.

  If you enjoy the read, please spread the word among your romance-loving friends. I’d also love hearing from you.

  Your book-loving friend,

  Patrice Hannah

  Dedication

  To my sister, Janelle;

  for daring me to write 50000+ words, your innocent dares have paid off.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Ninteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Epilogue

  From Ulric and Audelia

  About the Author

  One

  February, 1649

  The outskirts of Camden Village...

  Heavy rainfall beat mercilessly against the shingled roof above, sending a wave of chill throughout the entire room. A lone beacon burned brightly near the door which was used as both an entrance and exit no more than three times a day. Audelia Rolfen turned on her side, gazing at the dancing flame and imagined for the briefest of moments, herself burning within it. On nights like these, that was all she ever contemplated and when the sun rose and the cycle began again, death seemed to consume her thoughts above all else. Shifting on the makeshift bed, a preparation of thick fabric stuffed with thin layers of straw, she pulled the old brown blanket higher beneath her chin. It was amazing, truly, how one’s life and comfort could be so inconsequential to another.

  Across from her were dozens of beds like this one, arranged in parallel rows on the floor with just one single aisle breaking through the middle of the room. Just before dusk on every morning, their mistress, Madame de Lucci would stride down that very aisle and ringing her tiny obnoxious bell to initiate the morning inspection. It was a ritual, really, where she and her assistants would mark the register and then prepare the girls for their morning toiletries. These were girls Audelia’s age, sixteen and seventeen-year-olds; girls from similar backgrounds and of even closer circumstances. Girls who did not have a choice.

  “Do you believe in God, Lia?”

  The question came in a hoarse whisper directly from her right. It was Jocelyn Bardeen, a seventeen year old girl and Audelia’s only friend in this entire domicile. They had arrived together, some three months ago, when Madame de Lucci had taken them from separate orphanages across the country.

  Audelia turned, and even though she could barely make out her friend’s face, she thought Jocelyn had those remarkable light blue eyes that could light up even the densest of caves. Smiling sadly, she searched her heart for an answer. It had been a while since she’d thought of such things. “Sometimes.”

  Prayer had been the only thing that had kept her going through those long years at Mistress Gildome’s Orphanage for Girls. She’d prayed because she’d had no other option. She’d prayed because she knew someone was there listening. There were times now when prayer was her only solace but sometimes...sometimes she didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  “My mama used to say that God always finds a way,” Jocelyn went on even more softly. “She’s right, you know. We’ll get to leave this place one day, Lia. I just know it.”

  Frowning, Audelia stared up at the dark ceiling. She envied Jocelyn’s optimism at times. If only she could be so faithful. If only she could recall something...anything of her own parents that could somehow reassure her of a future she’d stopped wishing for long ago. She had no memory of or ties to them but the name she had been convinced was truly hers. There were nights when she had truly thought about it or on the very few occasions she was afforded a mirror at bath. She would imagine having her mother’s rich brown eyes and perhaps her father’s deep ebony hair. Or mayhap it was the other way around. There was really no way of her knowing. Like the other girls, she had no home and no family to claim as her own.

  “Jocelyn?” Reaching out a tentative hand, she touched her friend on the shoulder.

  “Mm?” She was dozing off already.

  “Do you pray for me?”

  “Mm--yes,” she yawned lightly. “We should pray f...for each other.”

  Audelia rolled onto her back and swallowed, hoping that the silent prayer in her heart would be heard.

  “Lia, wake up!”

  The hushed hiss came directly next to her right ear, startling her out of a deep wet dream of complete emptiness. Scowling at the ache in her temples, she quickly came to when someone gave her one harsh teeth-rattling shake. Slightly dizzy, she stumbled to her feet and eyed Jocelyn wearily. It was then that she recognized the infamous ringing of Madame de Lucci’s bell and the tapping sounds of her slippers along the stone floor. Swallowing tightly, she quickly ran a hand over her disheveled hair and down the front of her white tunic.

  She whispered softly to Jocelyn. “Thank you.”

  Her friend whispered back through the corner of her mouth, not even daring to make eye contact in case Madame or any of her assistants were to see. “God knows what she would have done.” And she quickly crossed her heart.

  Madame de Lucci was a beautiful woman with long blonde curls normally caught up in the most unusual of fashions. But then again, there did not appear to be anything usual about the Madame at all. Audelia watched as she made her way down the aisle, passing at least twelve rows before she made it to the back of the room, and up to the center again. Dressed in a flowing mauve gown and matching veil, she looked everything the regal, her red-painted lips pinched into a tight line.

  “Good morning, girls. I see you are all looking well risen.”

  “Good morning, Madame de Lucci.” The entire room echoed with the response; one of the many dull choruses that they had been taught to say from the moment each of them had first set foot inside the building.

  “Miss Darcott will be in soon to supervise you to your morning toiletries and then you will all meet in the West Chamber to undergo your fortnightly inspections.” Madame pivoted gracefully, her violet gaze sweeping over every then-pale face in the room. “So wash thoro
ughly.”

  As soon as Madame had retreated from the room, Audelia released her breath and shuddered. “Why do we need to be inspected every fourteen days?”

  Jocelyn shook her head and sunk to her knees, reaching for the blanket she’d tossed aside next to her makeshift bed. “I don’t know, Lia. But I’m scared.”

  Sinking to her own knees, Audelia started tidying her bed too. “Why are we here?” she said in a hushed tone. “We are never permitted too leave.”

  “I don’t want to think about it, Lia. We should just--”

  The door busted open again and both girls finished straightening their blankets before jumping to their feet again. Miss Darcott, a short plump woman with a very keen eye stepped inside and surveyed the room.

  “Come now. You all know what needs to be done,” she announced in a shrill voice. “Make it hasty too. We shan't keep the Madame waiting. A single queue, please.”

  * * *

  “Audelia Rolfen!”

  Her name echoed from the West Chamber and into the hall where she and the remaining four girls sat awaiting their inspections. Miss Darcott looked at her and shook her head sorrily.

  “Is that you, child?”

  “Um...yes, Ma’am.”

  “Then why, pray tell, are you still standing in that spot, wringing your hands like a blasted buffoon?”

  Audelia blinked and uttered a quick apology before walking ahead with the hawk-like Miss Darcott on her heels. The West Chamber was a large spacious room with very little furniture except for the armchair Madame de Lucci would occupy whenever her feet tired. Apart from that, there was a low wooden stool positioned on the center of the floor and a wash basin to the far left corner of the room. There really was nothing special about the room at all, except that it was one of the most dreaded places in the entire building. It was the venue for the infamous fortnightly inspections.

  “Ah, Audelia Rolfen,” Madame de Lucci uttered, eyeing her from head to toe. “How are you doing this morning?”

  “Fine, Madame.”

  “Wonderful. On the stool now.” Nodding, Audelia did as she was told, heart pounding as she poistioned herself still and standing upright. “Remove the tunic, dear.”

  A light cold breeze seemed to have come from nowhere, planting bitter kisses against her skin. Shivering, she undid the buttons lining the front of her tunic which ran from neckline to hem. Slowly, she rid herself of the garment and held her breath. It was a task she knew she would never get accustomed to. “C-cold...” she muttered before she’d had the chance to hold it in.

  “Yes, yes I know. It’s quite common for this time of the year.” Madame de Lucci then turned to the ogling Miss Darcott. “A rare one, isn’t she?”

  “She’s quite well developed, Madame.”

  “I agree.” Moving forward, the Madame looked her over with strange approval and smiled. “You are seventeen, child?”

  “Y-yes, Madame--”

  “Eighteen in two months,” Miss Darcott interjected.

  “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Oh, Miss Darcott, this one will most definitely do.”

  Audelia’s gaze darted between both women, anxious to know precisely what they were talking about. Perfect? It was hardly a word she’d use to describe herself and it had never ever been indicated as such whenever she stared at herself in the mirrors. If anything, she thought she looked just like every other girl in the building. Pale and distraught.

  The Madame grasped her by the arm and appraised her naked body again before meeting her eyes. “Don’t look so terrified, child. You are yet to understand the world that we all live in.”

  “Madame?” Audelia frowned, trying to find the right words to ask. “Is there--”

  “Hush now,” the woman responded, smiling with glee and running a slender hand down the girl’s right arm. “They are only two words of consequence which should be weighing on your mind, darling. And they are: endless opportunities.”

  Two

  March, 1650

  The dark haired girl shrunk back into the shadows of the wet alleyway, her hand hovering over the hilt of the dagger at her waist. The provincial guards would be out soon so she’d best collect as much as she could before she was forced to move on to the next village. Swallowing tightly, the aching in her throat worsened to remind her that she hadn’t much to eat, much less drink, in the last couple of days. It was a feeling she had grown quite accustomed to over the most recent months but she supposed it was far better to be free and starving than to return to the life she had escaped, battered and torn, from.

  Directly outside that alley stood the heart of Thornea, a tiny district to the east of the barbarous Camden Village. It did not offer much but it did boast a few merchants now and then who made a stop at the local inn before continuing their journey on towards Camden. Traveling merchants meant heavy pockets, and heavy pockets usually secured her next few meals. Gritting her teeth, she gazed out at the bustling crowd which always seemed to grow larger around nightfall. The serf and merchant stalls were still up, sufficiently lit by burning lanterns. A couple of carriages passed by quickly, villagers going about their businesses in all directions. But her gaze never averted from the man who stood a few meters away, flocked by a couple of men and dressed in the most decent garb she’d ever seen in these parts.

  Decent, was hardly the word to describe it but she’d really hadn’t the time to search her vocabulary either. Surely, he must be a man of some import with the way he quickly moved through the crowd purposefully just now. She could barely make out any of their faces but that was just a minor detail in her eyes. She’d never forget that garb.

  Frowning slightly, she watched as the group headed through the open doors of the inn. She’d sneaked inside that building countless times to fetch a few coins. Perhaps if she was successful this time, she’d be lucky the group was well stocked to afford her a passable ride as far away from Thornea as possibly, and perchance even a little extra to establish her own stall somewhere. Smiling, she nodded slowly. This just might be her one chance at redemption. Glancing away from the crowd, she turned to creep away when a hand grasped her by the shoulder.

  “Audelia, I think we’re going to be rich.”

  Frowning, she shrugged the slimy hand of her ‘partner’, Mart, off. Well, not exactly partner since she was the one who did all the hard work anyway. The scraggy whelp was no more than a year or so older than she was but proved to be a useless leech with every passing day. She’d entirely forgotten he was there in the alley with her.

  “Will you not lean so close to me just now?” she hissed softly. “I can feel you breathing down my neck.” Goosebumps ran a nasty course along her throat and down the middle of her back. “And I told you, do not call me by my name!”

  “Well, there’s no need for you to shout, lass.” She could hear his boots scraping against the pebbled pavement as he shifted. “What do you think about that group you was staring after? They sure looked like well-off fellows to me.”

  Audelia sighed. Might as well let the fool in on the plan if she was going to survive the next couple minutes. Heavens knew she needed some silence to actually think. She just hoped everything went well because she had every intention of losing this lunatic before sunrise too. “Did you see how the middle one dressed?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “That one had pockets so full, I could see it in the fabric of his pricey cloak. All we need is to get inside that inn and I’ll handle the rest. Got it?”

  “I got it.” Mart sucked the tip of his tongue through the wide gap between his two crooked front teeth and touched her again. “I say we split the profits fifty five-forty five, eh?”

  Audelia glared over her shoulder even though all she could see was the thin slits of his eyes. “Seventy-thirty or else the only thing I’ll be splitting is your throat on my dagger.”

  Her partner swallowed his tongue momentarily. “S-seventy-thirty, it is.”

  **

  Audelia waited inside a much darker alleywa
y which sat in a tightly packed space between the east side of the inn and a run-down bakeshop. If she’d calculated correctly, she had been huddled in that same cramped spot for fours hours now. She was definitely trying her luck here but Mart had somehow managed to weasel some information out of the innkeeper which suggested that all his preferred guests normally shared lodgings on the upper east floor of the building, and there was only one occupied room on that floor as far as she could see. She had even waited an extra hour after the lights had been doused just to ensure that the unfortunate guv would be fast asleep when she made her attack.

  Ignoring the twisting sensations in her stomach, Audelia took a deep breath and hoped Mart was prepared to come to her aid if needs me. Although she highly doubted that, one can never be too sure. Checking for the knife inside her right boot and her favorite dagger, she crept deeper within the darkness and reached her fingers between the spaces where the planes of lumber met in the structure of the wall. Scaling buildings was another task she’d gotten relatively used to; one she’d first accomplished upon escaping Madame de Lucci’s despicable claws. But then again, she was not fond of that subject and it was not a matter she enjoyed thinking upon either. Audelia was halfway up the wall when she heard a whispered shout from below.

  “I’m right here if you need me!”

  Cursing under her breath, she held on tight despite the burning in her fingers, and looked down. She couldn’t see a damn thing but Mart had a distinctly grating voice which had made him seemingly unpopular amongst the other villagers. Lucky her.

  “Stay there and be quiet,” she hissed back. Rolling her eyes to the heavens, she slowly continued on upwards, sweat beading along her neck and forehead as the pressure in her arms, legs and back intensified. A couple more meters and she’d be at the gates of a new tomorrow. She figured it was indeed worth it all.