by Ken Johns
John took his chainmail shirt and sword. “Ready.”
Mila nodded at Colin.
“Right.” John ripped off Colin’s tunic as though it were tissue. Colin stood helpless under the threat of Mila’s crossbow. John tore the shirt into strips, then bound and gagged him.
The two of them stepped into the hall, where Sandra and Lady Evelyn chatted quietly.
“You two seem rather chummy,” Mila said.
Sandra gave her a scolding look, and Lady Evelyn produced her usual sphinxlike smile.
“We should go.” Mila led the way down the stairs. She had reached the tapestry when raised voices drifted along the hall toward her.
“Raymond! I insist you let me pass.”
“Do not raise your voice to me, Henri.” Raymond slurred his words in a crappy impersonation of a drunk.
Lady Evelyn brushed past her. “I will see to Raymond. We will meet you at the Dover Dove.”
Mila wanted to find out what was going on with Raymond, but Evelyn was right as usual, so she led her parents behind the tapestry. “There’s a long staircase. Go slowly and feel your way.”
When they came out of the passage by Richard’s gate, Mila led them along the curtain wall. She pointed straight down the cliff with her left hand. “Don’t fall.”
She glanced behind periodically to make sure they stayed close. “We need to talk about our next move.”
“Get the hell out of here?” John said.
“What about the baron?” Mila asked. “And the money?”
“Fuck him.”
“John, if Reginald gets his money, he might not come after us. But if he doesn’t…” Sandra left it hanging.
“But how do we give it to him without getting captured?” Mila climbed over a rock that blocked the path and made sure her parents were aware of the obstacle.
“Mila’s right.” John helped Sandra over the rock. “We can’t risk it. But it might be useful, so we’ll take it with us. If Reginald finds us, it’s our bargaining chip.”
They reached the point where the cliff was replaced by a shallow slope leading down to the town. Mila took a long breath and picked up the pace.
Lady Evelyn descended the stairwell until she’d reached Raymond. He stood in the middle of the circular stair—there was indeed no way for two men to pass.
Henri seemed relieved to see her. “Lady Evelyn, please speak with your husband. I must get through.”
“Raymond.” Evelyn put her hand on his back. “Do come upstairs with me.”
“Yes, my darling.” Raymond followed her to the third floor.
Henri shook his head and climbed up the stairs after them. He stopped when he reached Evelyn. He sighed and refused to meet her eye.
Raymond’s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. Evelyn lifted her palm toward Raymond and waited for Henri to break his silence, but she could not wait forever. “What is it, Henri?”
Finally, he said, “Did you know the heretic would kill Wessex?”
“Of course not.” So Henri had found out, and now he was consumed by the guilt of knight’s honor.
“My lady, I would never have agreed, had I known.”
“Henri, the fault does not lie with you. Wessex brought it on himself by demanding the confrontation of arms.”
Henri seemed to consider that for a moment. “But he did not deserve to die.”
Evelyn put a hand on Henri’s shoulder. “I’m sure he would have preferred a warrior’s death to the alternative.”
Henri nodded slowly. “Reginald is not pleased that the heretic was in my place.”
“You told him?”
“I had to.”
Evelyn took her hand off Henri. “Of course.”
“He has demanded your presence in the great hall. I am on my way to retrieve the hostages.”
“We will meet you there.” Evelyn watched Henri turn and walk along the hallway toward the tower stairs.
When he was gone, she reached up and kissed Raymond on the lips. “Thank you.”
He returned her kiss and slipped his hand around the small of her back, pulling her toward him.
She bit his lip. “Not now. We need to be gone by the time Henri returns from the tower.”
As Edward led his men into the great hall, Reginald sat staring into his fireplace, his back to the door. Edward decided to open with a civil tone, despite his eagerness to bring Reginald down from his undeserved barony. “My lord.”
“What now?” Reginald said without turning from the fire.
“Might we have a word, Reginald?”
Reginald stood and faced him. “What is this?”
The shocked look on Reginald’s face gladdened Edward’s heart. Edward aimed his palms skyward. “Justice must be done. It is God’s will. I had asked Wessex to do what you would not, but since he is dead, I must now insist that you hand over the heretics.”
“Edward, have you lost your wits?” Reginald studied the knights. Each was one of his tournament guests.
“It is for the good of the kingdom. All of these noble men are of like mind.” Edward nodded at the knights behind him. “They do not want the heresy to spread to their lands. It must end here. We are quite sure the king will agree.”
“Damn the king.” Reginald shook his head. “His bloody war tax brought us to these desperate times.”
“Reginald!” Edward’s mouth fell open. “I will not tell the king of your treasonous words if you hand the heretics over at once.”
“Do not speak of treason while you threaten me in my own castle.” He sniffed. “Do you think the king will stand by while I am usurped?”
Henri ran into the great hall. “My lord, the hostages have escaped, and Lady Evelyn is gone.”
“Good god, Henri.” Reginald’s face reddened. “You seem quite incapable of keeping anyone in custody.”
“It is settled, then. You will grant me the right to hunt these heretics as I see fit with no interference. Are we agreed?
Henri drew his sword.
“Hold.” Reginald held up his hand to Henri. “Edward, I shall grant you the rights you seek but on the condition that Henri and I hunt with you.”
“Let God’s will be done.” Edward smiled. He hadn’t even had to leverage the secret of who killed Wessex. That he could save for another time.
Chapter Fifty-One
April 30, 1341
As Mila and her mother brought the horses around to the front of the Dover Dove, Lady Evelyn and Sir Raymond drove up in the carriage.
“Henri and his men will be along any moment.” Lady Evelyn glanced back toward the castle. “We must hurry.”
“We?” Mila was lost. She glanced at Raymond. He wore a blank expression as he climbed down. She guessed Lady Evelyn hadn’t reprogrammed him yet.
“Evelyn and Raymond are coming with us,” said Sandra.
Raymond came and took his horse’s reins and began tying them to the back of the carriage.
John came out of the inn carrying the chest. “What did I miss?”
Lady Evelyn broke the silence. “Sandra and I have decided to pool our resources. We will help you, and you will help us.”
“That’s right.” Sandra smiled.
Mila had no idea what deal her mother had made with this woman who couldn’t be trusted, but she had no time. “Okay. Take my mother and father and head straight for the meadow. I’m not leaving without Margaret. I’ll find her and meet you there.”
“Not a chance,” John said. “We have to stick together.”
“John! We don’t have a second to waste arguing.” Mila mounted her horse and rode away.
Edward and his men followed Reginald and Henri down the keep stairs and across the inner bailey. A squire sat at the doors to the stable, cradling his head. Upon seeing Reginald and eight knights approaching, he jumped to his feet.
Henri pulled one of the young man’s hands away from his head. It came away bloodied. “What happened?”
“I am sorry, sir. The Lady Evelyn to
ok the carriage. I told her that I needed your word to release it.” The squire bowed his head. “That is when she had Sir Raymond strike me.”
Edward mounted his horse and noticed Reginald was smiling. “What have you found amusing in this poor man’s plight?”
“Nothing, Your Grace.” Reginald stopped smiling and climbed onto his mount.
Edward decided to let it go for the moment and led his men out the inner gate. When they reached the barbican gate, Edward reined in and addressed the knights. “I want each man to take one of the five roads that leads to the south end of the town. I will make my way to the cathedral square. When you have finished your patrols, meet me there. I pray one of you brings news of the witches. Do not engage them. You are only to find them and report back. God be with you. Now ride!”
Mila had no idea where Richard and Margaret might be, but Richard had asked where the cathedral was, so she started her search there. The side doors to the cathedral were unlocked, so she slowly pushed them open. Voices echoed from inside. She snuck a look into the candlelit interior and spotted three people near the altar. She stepped inside and hid behind a pillar. Richard stood watching behind the next pillar along the nave. She moved to him and whispered, “What are you doing?”
Richard’s face was flushed, and his eyes were moist.
“What’s wrong?”
“We were looking at the windows and all the pretty colors,” Richard said slowly. But before he finished his explanation, a cry came from the altar. Mila snuck another look around the pillar. She recognized Margaret and some asshole holding her from behind. An even larger and uglier shithead was reaching inside the top of her dress.
“They took Margaret and told me to stay out of it,” Richard continued.
Mila ducked back behind the pillar. “Why didn’t you help her?”
“They said they were doing the bishop’s work. It was God’s will.” Richard stomped his foot. “They told me to go away.”
“All right, Richard, I get it.” Mila didn’t, really, but she needed Richard calm if he was going to be of any use. “You know you don’t have to do what they tell you, right?”
“Do I not?”
“Hell, no. If you think somebody is wrong, you just say no and do what you think is right.” They clearly weren’t teaching about stranger danger or that ‘no’ feeling here in the fourteenth century.
Margaret let out a scream. Mila peeked around the pillar. Things were about to get rough. Shithead had just ripped her dress down around her elbows.
Richard stood up and wiped his nose. His eyebrows lowered until his eyes were slits. He gritted his teeth and stomped out from behind the pillar toward the central aisle. The men at the altar heard him approach.
Mila crawled from pillar to pillar toward the front of the church.
“What are you doing?” Asshole asked.
Richard growled, ignoring them, and kept moving toward his ax.
“Go away,” Shithead said. “You do not want to see this.”
“Let him watch. Maybe he will learn something.” Asshole laughed at his own joke.
“Stop it!” Richard’s voice echoed through the church.
They laughed at him. He picked up his ax and stomped down the center aisle.
Shithead stopped laughing. “Idiot! Put that down and find a place to sit.”
Richard kept coming.
“You do not listen very well.” Shithead stepped away from Margaret and drew his sword.
Mila wondered what Richard would do when faced with an armed opponent, but he seemed fearless.
“Stop!” Asshole sounded scared.
Richard kept coming. Shithead swung his sword. Richard blocked the blow and drove the point of his ax into the big man’s skull in one smooth motion. Richard could fight, and he was good.
Mila held her breath. She reached the back of the altar and stood up behind Asshole, who was still holding Margaret. “Let her go.”
Asshole spun around to keep Margaret between himself and Mila. Richard took his head from behind. Margaret stumbled backwards as the corpse released her. Richard caught her easily and gently lowered her to a pew.
“I am sorry,” Richard said.
“Why?” Margaret pulled up her dress.
“I am sorry that I did not help you right away.”
Margaret finished repairing her dress as best she could. Mila knelt in front of her. “How are you?”
“I am well.” Margaret smiled at her. There was no sign of the anguish she had displayed upon learning of Chad’s death, or any acknowledgment that she had narrowly escaped a rape.
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
Mila was both shocked and impressed. Margaret gave new meaning to the term survivor.
The clomping of hooves on the stones outside the main cathedral door drew Mila’s attention. She stood and offered Margaret a hand. “We have to go.”
Margaret took her hand and stood. Mila led her toward the side door but felt Margaret pull away.
“What about Richard?” Margaret asked. Richard stood next to the corpses, wiping his ax on one of the dead men’s chests. “We cannot leave him here. He will be blamed for the deaths of these men.”
Mila had no time to consider alternatives. “Richard, come with us,” she blurted.
“Where?”
Mila decided to start with the easy stuff. Explaining time travel to Richard seemed like a non-starter. “When was the last time you had a walk in the forest?”
“I cannot remember,” Richard said, but he was already smiling.
“Well, come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Will there be food?” Richard licked his lips.
Mila stifled a laugh. “Yes. There will be food. Any other questions?”
“No.” He put his ax over his shoulder and walked toward them.
She led them to the side door and out into the alley. “Put Margaret on the horse.”
Richard lifted Margaret up and set her on Mila’s horse. A rider came up the alley and stopped. Richard stepped between Margaret and the rider with his ax at the ready.
“Whoa, hold on there, big guy.” Mila touched Richard’s arm. “This is John. John, this is Richard.”
“Hi, Richard. Nice to meet you.” To Mila he said, “We need to go back out the alley the way I came in. Quickly—the village square is filling up with knights.”
Mila switched places with John once they were safe in the forest. She needed to figure out if she could work the MCV, so she rode while he walked beside her, leading the horse. The device had a smooth face, and when Mila swiped her finger across it, a virtual app interface popped open. The first screen asked for a password. Great. After everything, she was going to fail because of a password. She was about to cuss when she heard the sound of approaching riders.
“Quickly. Into the forest.” John led her horse off the road into the trees. Mila dismounted and hid.
Margaret passed them and rode her horse into a thick copse farther from the road. Richard followed her. He hadn’t left her side since the cathedral. Margaret dismounted and urged him to come in behind the trees with her.
Eight riders in full armor rode past without incident.
This was good news and bad news. It meant that Sandra hadn’t been captured yet. It probably also meant that Mom’s group was ahead on the road. The bad news was that Henri had somehow figured out where they were going.
“They probably picked up the trail left by the carriage,” said John.
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled at him. “You’re good at this stuff when you’re not half-dead.”
He frowned at her. “I’m sorry I haven’t been much help lately.”
“Better late than never,” said Mila, returning her attention to the MCV as she remounted the horse.
Margaret and Richard joined them. They walked back out to the main road.
“Is there a faster way to the meadow?” John asked Margaret. “Can we go off road or something?”
Chapter Fifty-Two
May 1, 1341
Mila sat in the shade behind the log where Sandra had pulled the bolt out of John’s leg five days earlier. It seemed longer. There was less glare in the shade, and she could read the MCV’s display more easily as she tried to guess Chad’s password. John had wandered off with Richard and Margaret to explore the meadow. That was just as well. Mila didn’t need them hovering while she tried to solve her problem. The jingle of horse tack caught her attention. The carriage drove out onto the meadow, rolled up past the single oak, and stopped. Raymond stood to climb down from the driver’s bench.
A flight of crossbow bolts flew out of the forest. Three found their mark, and Raymond toppled off the seat.
Lady Evelyn stepped out of the door as Raymond fell past her and hit the ground. She screamed and dropped to his side. Sandra appeared in the door behind her.
A crossbow bolt thumped into the log near Mila. She ducked.
John came out of the forest and crouched by her side. “Stay down,” he whispered, then yelled toward the carriage. “Sandra! Get back inside and lie on the floor.”
Lady Evelyn held Raymond in her arms, but his head hung limp. Sandra pulled her back toward the carriage. Farther down the slope, five knights walked out of the forest, holding crossbows at the ready. Three more knights appeared on horseback behind them. The mounted knights lowered their face plates: it was Baron Reginald, Bishop Edward, and Captain Henri. The little force walked up the slope. Sandra and Lady Evelyn disappeared inside the carriage.
Mila put away the MCV and picked up her crossbow.
“Can you hit those crossbow knights from here?” John said.
“I can try, but won’t they shoot at me while I’m aiming?”
“They might. But we’re in the shadows here, and they’re looking through slits in those helmets. The other side of this log is in bright sunlight. The contrast here in the shadows should make us almost invisible. Just move slowly. They’ll notice you if you move quickly.” John smiled at her. “You’ve got this.”
Mila’s eyes widened. “Really?”
