The Faithful Heart

by Merry Farmer

  The snap of twigs a few yards away startled them. Madeline twisted in her saddle to see figures moving close by. “Who’s that?” she whispered to Tom.

  “Who’s there?” Ethan’s commanding voice carried back through the trees.

  “Ethan!” Tom breathed out in relief, dismounting and rushing to meet Ethan and Toby as they brushed through the undergrowth and rounded a bush to face them.

  “Tom? Why aren’t you back at the camp?” Ethan blinked then saw the others. “Madeline? And Joanna?” His face lit into a warm grin at the sight of Joanna. “How nice to see you again.”

  Joanna narrowed her eyes at him as Toby stumbled forward to help her off her horse. “What are you doing here?” he echoed his master’s question.

  “Where’s Jack?” Madeline demanded from her horse’s back, above them all. “Tom says you’ve taken him prisoner. Where is he?”

  Ethan’s grin faltered to a cautious smile. “He trespassed on our land, Madeline,” he explained, walking closer to her. “Why don’t you come down and we’ll talk about it.”

  “I’m only interested in taking him home.”

  “Ah. Yeah.” Ethan winced and ran a hand through his hair. “The thing is, I don’t think he’s learned his lesson yet.” His voice grew colder with each word. “We’ve had a bit of a falling out.”

  “I’ve heard all about it,” she nodded, back straight atop her mount. “From Jack.”

  Ethan’s smile dropped completely. “I doubt his version of the story is a fair one.”

  “And Aubrey.”

  The friendliness in his eyes went out. “I’m not releasing him.”

  Madeline pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath and looking up to a bird that had landed on a branch nearby for support. She couldn’t let anyone see she was in over her head. She stared at Ethan. “Look, we’ve always been friends. I have no issue with you personally. But you know what I’ve gone through. You know I love Jack. I escaped from the convent and walked and begged my way back to Derby to be with him. You know I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

  Ethan sighed and dropped his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He ground his toe into the dirt and growled in frustration before glancing back to her. “I can’t let him go, Madeline, not just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  He stretched his back as though caught in a trap. “I need him out of the way for a while. Maybe … later we can talk about this.”

  “Unacceptable.” His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “I want to see him now. Joanna says her brother told her you don’t have as much control over the outlaws in the forest as you think.” Tom’s glance flew to her in alarm. Ethan scowled. It was Toby’s look of fearful misery that confirmed her statement. He didn’t try to defend himself. “I don’t trust the man who murdered the previous lord of Kedleridge with my Jack.”

  A thick silence fell over them. Toby had gone pale and Joanna was rubbing his back to keep him from breaking down. He turned a desperate glance to his master, but Ethan only stared at the forest floor, expression angry and uncertain.

  “My lord. Ethan,” Tom stepped forward and spoke softly. “It’s early still. We could return to camp, let Jack and Simon go, and make it look like an escape. You wouldn’t have to lose face amongst the-”

  “No!” Ethan glared up at him. “I’ll not let him go. Not until he’s learned his lesson. And that’s final.”

  “And when do you suppose he will have learned his lesson?” Madeline’s voice and heart quivered. “When he’s dead? When that boy or his cronies have murdered him?”

  Ethan met her eyes, but only for a moment. “I have better things to do than argue with you.” He marched past them, hand on the handle of his sword, gesturing for Toby. Toby wavered, clutching Joanna’s hands, before breaking away with a moan and following his master.

  “Where are you going?” Madeline demanded, nudging her horse to keep up with him.

  “It’s none of your business, my lady,” Ethan replied with mock formality.

  “If you don’t free Jack I’ll … I’ll ….” She had no idea what she would do.

  Ethan stopped and sighed, turning to face her. “We’ll discuss this when I get back.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I don’t know,” he brushed her off and continued on. “I’ll send a letter to Derby to let you know. Now get out of the forest before ….”

  “Before what?” she snapped.

  “Before you meet the same fate as Jack.”

  Her eyes snapped wide and she pulled on the reins so hard that her horse danced. Ethan didn’t turn around. He marched on through the trees and blended into the forest. Her heart pounded so hard she thought she would be sick. She turned her horse and started back in the direction they’d been traveling in.

  “Where are you going?” Tom dashed forward to stop her horse.

  “Get out of my way,” she seethed. “I’m going to find Jack.”

  Tom let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s too dangerous! How many times do I have to-”

  An arrow shot out of nowhere, whizzing past Madeline’s shoulder and sticking hard in a tree feet away from her. She yelped as her horse reared. Another arrow split through the space where she’d just been standing.

  “See what I mean!” Tom hissed, rushing for Joanna and shoving her towards her horse. “Get out of here!”

  Joanna scrambled to mount her skittish horse. Tom smacked her mount’s rump to make him run.

  “What about you?” Madeline called out as he searched the woods and moved away from them.

  “You might not be able to help Jack,” he edged around a tree, “but maybe I still can.”

  Lydia straightened from her spot in the bushes, lowering her bow as Madeline and Joanna galloped off.

  “Breathe your last, Tom Tanner,” Roderick muttered at her side, training his bow on Tom as he scrambled through the undergrowth.

  “No,” she stopped him with a sharp whisper, putting a hand on his shoulder until he lowered his bow. He scowled at her, lower lip sticking out in a reminder that he was still hardly more than a child. “No, don’t kill him yet. He’s the one who connects all the pieces of the puzzle. He might be useful.”

  Roderick snorted. “He’s a pussy. I’ve spent the last year listening to him whine about doing the right thing.”

  “Yes, and it’s the do-gooders who do all the work and lead you to the prize in the end.”

  She watched until Tom melted into the undergrowth. Roderick huffed and jerked his head around, watching for danger. It was too early for danger to be up. It was too early for her to be up when it came to it, but she had to know what Ethan was doing.

  “Where is he going?” she nodded the way Ethan and Toby had gone. “It wasn’t the direction of Derby. I thought you said he would go pester the countess.”

  “I thought he would,” Roderick shrugged then broke into a toothy smirk. “Jealous?”

  “Over him?” She arched an eyebrow at him. “Please! Not when a real prize is in the offing.” She gestured for him to follow her back towards the camp.

  “What, Lord John?” he sneered.

  “Getting warmer,” she chuckled, picking her way around a thorn-bush.

  “My father?” His sneer was so low it sent a shiver down her spine.

  She didn’t answer. It was none of her nephew’s business. He hadn’t been born back then and wouldn’t have been born at all if she’d had her way.

  They’d reached the edge of one of the camp’s outlying paths. Two hulking men with short swords were on course to intercept them. They stopped when Lydia and Roderick stepped out of the trees.

  “What’re you doin’ here?” one of them asked, his voice nasal through a squashed nose.

  “We came to find you,” she smiled. Luck had been on her side so far. With Ethan gone on some mystery errand there was no reason it wouldn’t hold. There was no reason she couldn’t take what she’d wanted all those years ago and what she wanted righ
t now. She lowered her lashes and swayed her hips as she approached the men. “Connor, isn’t it?” she glanced up at the squashed-nose man.

  “Yeah? What’d’ya want?”

  “I want you.”

  Connor’s friend sniggered.

  “What’d’ya want me for, lassie?” Connor’s eyes shone hot with possibility. He hooked a hand in his belt and adjusted his chausses as if he knew exactly what she was looking for.

  Lydia laughed low in her throat. “You’re a powerful man in these woods, Connor,” she sauntered towards him, stealing a glance towards Roderick, showing him how it was done. “You’re a leader among men.”

  “Well, yeah,” he sniffed.

  “You’re the sort other men look to, other men listen to. If you do something the others will follow your example.”

  “I ‘spect that’s so,” he bared his rotting teeth at her.

  “So,” Lydia slid a hand along his shoulder, “I want you,” she stepped in closer, “to do everything I tell you to do and convince everyone else to do the same.”

  He laughed, his breath making it hard for her to keep a smooth face. “An’ why should I do that, lassie? I heard you with Lord Ethan. I heard the way you squawk. I’m thinkin’ it’s about time I got me a piece of that.”

  “No,” she hummed, fixing him with a predatory stare. “I think you’re going to do what I want. I think you’re going to rally all the beautiful outlaw men in this forest to follow my orders.”

  “An’ why should I do that?”

  She raised a hand. Roderick’s bow twanged and with a sharp zing an arrow shot straight into the eye of Connor’s friend. The man’s scream was cut short as a second arrow plunged into his throat. He crumbled to the ground, writhing in agony and clawing at his face as death seized him.

  Lydia smiled at Connor. “You’ll do as I say because if you don’t I’ll kill you.”

  Connor stammered, watching his friend shudder and jerk until he went still. Roderick lowered his bow, a third arrow already nocked, and walked up to the dead man, nudging him with his toe, a hungry snarl on his face. A dark wet patch grew around Connor’s crotch.

  “Time to get serious, Connor,” Roderick grinned at him.

  Lydia crossed her arms and stared straight into Connor’s eyes. “Now, Connor, let’s talk about what you’re going to do.” He gaped at her, jaw quivering. “You’re going to dispose of your friend here. Then you’re going to spread the word that the men are taking orders from me now. After that you’re going to set a perimeter around the camp to keep Ethan from returning. Tell people to kill him if they have to, I don’t care.”

  “Y-yes, m-my lady,” he stammered.

  A smile lit Lydia’s face. “I like the sound of that!” Roderick snickered and came to stand by Lydia’s side, imitating her stance. “Alright, you can go,” she cooed to Connor as though telling a child to go play.

  The trembling man jumped into action, scooping his friend’s body up and dragging it into the undergrowth.

  “Well that was easy,” Lydia wiped her hands and continued on the path towards the camp. “And it’s hardly breakfast yet.”

  “What next?” Roderick licked his lips.

  “Next we go after the big prize,” she patted his back. “Money, land, and title. We go after the lord of Kedleridge.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jack drifted somewhere between the waking and sleeping worlds, head drooped forward, eyes closed. It took a rare form of idiot to traipse into the forest and get himself captured by old friends. He wished that he had lost track of the hours that he and Simon had been tied to the tent-post in the stuffy tent deep in Ethan’s camp, but the truth was that he could feel every minute that had ticked by. The ropes lashed around his bare chest tying him back to back with Simon, the tent pole between, them tugged tighter.

  “Give it a rest, Simon,” he growled through clenched teeth, pain pushing him fully awake. “That wanker who tied the knots knew what he was doing.”

  When he’d come to the day before after having the shit beat out of him he’d found himself in just his smallclothes, hands and feet bound fast, trapped where he was. No one had come back to check on them or bring them food or water or anything, not even Tom.

  Pain and hunger were the least of his worries.

  They’d galloped off like fools, leaving Madeline alone at Kedleridge. Alone. How would she cope? Who would look after her? Her father knew she was there. What was to keep him from marching in and dragging her away? He would have been sick at the thought if he wasn’t so thirsty. He had to get out of there, had to get home. If only he could figure out how.

  The ropes cinched again, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

  “Oy!” he shouted over his shoulder, voice cracking. “Stop struggling already!”

  Simon ignored Jack’s order. He strained for all he was worth against the ropes around their torsos.

  “Bloody hell, Simon! What is your bloody problem?” He bumped his head back against the tent-post, wishing it was Simon’s head so that he could knock some sense into the man. His temper flared to the point where against his better judgment he snapped, “I’m your bloody master, alright, and I order you to stop!”

  Simon went still. “Four months as lord over my home does not make you my master!”

  Jack’s eyes flew wide. “Oy!”

  A crushing silence followed the outburst, punctuated by a thump as Simon smacked his head against the tent-post, inches away from Jack’s.

  “Oh right, I forgot.” Jack was too miserable to check himself, “I get it. I’m just some filthy peasant dog who happened to be in the right place at the right time an’ Prince John rewarded me for standin’ around scratchin’ my arse!” His whole body relaxed with the catharsis of shouting his frustration aloud.

  Another long silence followed. Simon was still. “I didn’t mean it like that, my lord,” he muttered.

  “Sure you did,” Jack’s sigh turned into a moan. “It’s what everyone else means, so why not you too? It’s what they’re saying when they think I’m not listening, and when they know I am. ‘Look at the stupid, uppity, ginger peasant dog!’ Well I’m bloody well sick and tired of it, alright? And I’m damn good at what I do. I’m clever and Crispin relies on me. And yeah, maybe Prince John was having a laugh at everyone’s expense, including mine, but I plan to make the best of it, for Madeline’s sake if no one else’s!” He blew out the last of his exasperation at the end of his sentence and relaxed.

  Both men leaned their heads against the tent-post, panting as if they’d run miles. Jack stared up at the canvas ceiling, willing himself to keep it together. Madeline would want him to keep it together. He tried to reach his hands behind him so that he could touch the rosary but it was just out of reach. It was a small miracle that the goons that had roughed him up hadn’t taken it. They probably didn’t know what it was.

  The thought of Madeline giggling as he told her that joke settled him. “Oy, I’m sorry, mate,” he muttered over his shoulder to Simon.

  Simon shifted against the post, let out a sigh. “I was born in the manor house at Kedleridge,” he revealed in a voice that was hardly more than a low rumble. “My mother was the housekeeper. I grew up there, I married there, and I hope to someday die there.” He paused, taking a breath before adding, “I’ve only set foot outside of the manor three times in my entire life.”

  Jack turned his head as far as he could, trying in vain to see his steward. “Never! Only three times?”

  He felt Simon nod. “I went to the faire surrounding the Council of Nobles when I was fourteen. I left last Spring to report Lord Hugh’s murder.” A thick silence followed. He cleared his throat. “And I left yesterday to follow you.”

  Jack opened his mouth to say something but was too startled to come up with any words. Three times counting this one. He couldn’t imagine. “Me and Tom wandered all over the place when our dad died,” he shared his story instead of commenting on his steward’s. “I was sixteen and
he was thirteen when we left Wellington. Had to get out in a hurry, see. Dad left nothing but a mound of debts we couldn’t pay and a couple of angry buggers who thought the two of us should work those debts off.” He chuckled as old memories poured back over him. “Oy, and there was this woman … can’t even remember her name. Promised me a lot of things, she did.” He sighed. “Delivered on those promises too.” Those days felt like someone else’s life now.

  “How did you end up in Derbyshire?” Simon prompted when the silence grew uncomfortable.

  “Well, there was this horse. She was mine and Tom’s. Tom’s really seeing as he was the one who earned most of the money to buy the old nag in the first place. Wherever we went, everyone wanted to hire Tom to fix their roofs, mend their fences, build them things. Me they wanted around for a laugh or a tumble.” He shook his head. “Anyhow, time came when we couldn’t pay our rent. They took the horse instead. Tom was crushed, of course. He’d gotten mighty attached to that horse. So I nipped in and stole her back. Only that’s when we got caught. Spent at least a fortnight in some God-forsaken hole before being dragged out and carted to Derby. Buxton bought us from the Sheriff of Shropshire so’s he could hang us for show.”

  Jack wished he could see Simon’s face. He could feel the fight leaving the man as their bare backs rubbed against each other in spots. “When I was six years old,” his voice was almost a whisper, “I … I walked in on Lord Hugh and my mother and saw something I shouldn’t have seen. As punishment my master had me tied up and locked in a chest all day and night.”

  “Never!” Jack exclaimed, horrified.

  “I don’t like being tied up.”

  Jack’s face flushed red in sympathy for his steward as all of the struggling and the desperation suddenly made sense. “Oy! Why does Roderick hate you so much, mate? He’s your son, isn’t he?” If they were going to be close they might as well get it all out.