The Agents of William Marshal Volume I: A Medieval Romance Bundle, page 45
Kress looked at him sharply. “God, no,” he said. “I have been very plain about it. She is a beautiful woman, but that is all. She is betrothed to a powerful earl and I would not shame myself by cavorting with her, in any way. And she is unhappy about that.”
“Unhappy?” Bric repeated. “She wants to… she wants you to…?”
Kress shrugged irritably. “Wishful thinking, I suppose,” he said. “She is young and idealistic. Romance holds great attraction to her, yet she is facing a marriage to a man she does not know. She is concerned over it.”
Brick and Achilles exchanged glances. “Kress,” Bric ventured hesitantly. “Do you want me to escort her? I will take your place next to her. It might make it… easier. If the woman is attracted to you, and you to her, you should not be in such close proximity to each other.”
Kress held his ground. “Do you not trust me?”
Bric waved him off. “Of course, I do,” he said. “But I thought it would be easier if I took your place, ’tis all.”
Kress’ gaze lingered on the man. In truth, it was an offer any of them would have made, and rightly so. It wasn’t made out of haste or mistrust, and if Kress had any sense at all, he would accept.
But he couldn’t manage to do it.
“I appreciate your concern,” he said, turning back to his horse. “But I am fully capable of continuing my duty. If I need your assistance, I shall ask.”
Bric didn’t say anything more, but he passed a long glance at Achilles as he turned for his horse. They were both thinking the same thing – they’d seen Kress flirt with the woman in Lynn when he didn’t know who she was. He was clearly attracted to her, and working so closely with her was probably not the most desirable of situations, especially when he could not have her. But unless they wanted to insult Kress, they would simply have to let the man do as he wished.
“As you wish,” Bric said. “We just don’t want to see you get into any trouble.”
Kress knew that but he struggled not to become insulted by the suggestion. “No trouble,” he reassured them. “We shall be to Chester in a few days and all of this shall be forgotten. And then I can find a woman who is not so encumbered with a betrothal.”
He meant it as a joke, smiling weakly, and the others smiled in return, but his smile was a hollow gesture. He was being a little too dismissive about it, which was a dead giveaway that, perhaps, there was something more going on.
For Kress’ sake, Bric and Achilles hoped not.
CHAPTER NINE
Grantham… Nottingham… Derby…
In four days, they’d passed through three major cities and a host of smaller burghs, stopping only to sleep for the night and then picking up before dawn the next day. The truth was that it was all passing in a blur to Kress, who maintained his post next to the carriage as they traveled the miles, but it was a lonely existence. Since the first night in Heckington, Cadelyn refused to speak to him at all.
In fact, she wouldn’t even look at him and would only answer him when spoken to, in the shortest answers possible. For the first two days, he expected it and tried not to be bothered by it. But yesterday and today, he was coming to feel great remorse for what he’d said to her. He wanted to take it back or, at the very least, clarify. But he refused to do it. It was better this way, he told himself. He couldn’t chance her forgiving him and then he’d be worse off than he was before.
But his resolve was seriously failing him.
What was it he’d told Bric and Achilles? No trouble.
That was a lie.
Over to his right, Susanna was riding at her post at the rear of the wagon, sporting a lovely black eye from her fight with Achilles back in Heckington. Achilles still had his black eye, one that was nearly swollen shut for two days and only now was the swelling going down. Ever since that fight, the pair had stayed away from each other, but whenever they came within close proximity, the nasty expressions came out with a vengeance.
It was the only entertainment on a journey that had, so far, proven to be quite a chore for Kress.
The larger village of Uttoxeter loomed up ahead just after midday on a morning that had been clear and uneventful. There wasn’t a bypass road around the village as some had, so the escort was forced to go straight through it, and they ended up bogged down by some kind of feast day or festival that was going on. The entire escort was surrounded by happy villagers who tossed sprigs of green leaves at the soldiers, handing them flowers and the like.
Perplexed, Kress grabbed a man who strayed too close to ask him what the feast day was and he was told that it was Matthias the Apostle. The cathedral in the town, St. Mary the Virgin, was providing roast pig to everyone and there were a great many visitors in town because of it. Realizing they’d emerged right into a massive festival, Kress had Susanna hang back by the carriage while he pushed his way up to the front of the column where Alexander and Achilles were discussing that very problem.
“It’s Matthias the Apostle Feast Day,” Kress said as he rode up on the pair. The escort, at this point, was at a standstill. “There is no way we are pushing through this crowd right now, Sherry. The church is providing food for everyone, so they have everyone from the outlying areas in town today.”
Alexander grunted, unhappy, looking around at the happy revelers. “Had I known this, we would have taken the road to the north to go around,” he said. “We can turn around and back out of town.”
Kress and Achilles were trying to look back down the road from where they’d come. “I do not think so,” Kress said. “A mob of villagers has filled in behind us.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Alexander asked.
Kress shrugged. “We need to get out of here,” he said. “But with that carriage, we cannot turn it around given the narrowness of the street and all of the people around it. I think we are simply going to have to push forward, however slowly, until we come out the other side.”
Alexander agreed and he sent Achilles and Kress back to their posts. The knights were shouting to the men, getting them moving through the crowds of revelers. Unfortunately, the miscalculation with the festival in Uttoxeter would have them slowed down sufficiently.
But no one, not even Kress, could realize just how much of a disaster this day was about to bring.
“Look at all of the people!” Yerik exclaimed. “It must be a festival of some kind.”
He was peering from one of the small, slatted windows, the ones that were built into the top of the wooden and iron cab to allow for ventilation and light. Yerik had showed some interest in watching their surroundings, but Cadelyn hadn’t shown any interest at all since the departure from Heckington four days ago.
Since then, all she’d done was sit.
Yerik was working on poem cards, with multiple poems that Cadelyn had written – The Knight and The Lady, a reprint of Alvina’s Lament, and a new one called The Song of Venus that spoke of a woman’s bare breasts. Yerik had produced gorgeous poem cards and the plan was that once they reached Chester, he would go in search of the cathedral and discover who he could speak to about helping him produce the cards. Not wanting to be accused of indecency, he knew he had to be careful and, unfortunately, Cadelyn would be tied up with meeting her future husband and unable to participate in actively seeking out poor clerics to work on the cards.
At least, that had been the plan. But the past four days had seen a drastic change in Cadelyn’s attitude and manner. She wouldn’t speak very much; she simply lay on one of the cushioned benches as the wagon rolled along, staring off into space as Yerik quietly worked. He had asked her, several times, what the matter was, but she wouldn’t speak of it and he came to assume she was simply nervous about meeting her future husband. Any bride would be. Therefore, he left her alone to brood.
It wasn’t as if he could help her, anyway.
Now, they were in a town that was filled with happy people and the carriage had come to a halt, prompting Yerik to peer from the window to see what was happening. He thought that by perhaps describing what he was seeing, it might help Cadelyn’s mood but, so far, she remained unmoved. Lying on the cushioned bench, clad in a pale green gown with a matching cloak wrapped around her, she looked lovely in spite of her dismal attitude. Yerik tried to cheer her up.
“Everyone is gaily dressed, my lady,” he said. “Don’t you want to see?”
Propped up with a silk pillow under her head, Cadelyn lay there and toyed with her hair, a braid draped over her right shoulder. “Nay,” she said. “I can hear them.”
Yerik was straining to catch a glimpse of something. “There goes Sir Kress,” he said. “He is riding to the front of the escort. I wonder why?”
The mention of Kress’ name was like a stab to Cadelyn’s heart. So much about this journey was eating away at her and as the hours and days ticked by, she was more and more distraught about it. A husband she didn’t want, a knight who had lied to her… aye, Kress had lied to her. He’d flirted with her, told her what she wanted to hear, and then took it all back. She felt foolish, sick, and embarrassed.
And she didn’t want any part of this horrid situation.
She’d been so closely watched since departing Castle Rising that it hadn’t even occurred to her to try and run away. All of that talk about how it was her duty to take orders from William Marshal and accept the betrothal was just that – talk. She’d been willing to go forward with it because Kress had told her to, but now that he’d lied to her… hurt her… she saw no reason to comply with anything. She didn’t need men telling her what to do any longer and to the devil with her lineage and obligation. She didn’t have an obligation to anyone but herself.
She could get along, alone.
Cadelyn knew that Kress had been riding at the rear of her carriage, guarding the door, and she knew Susanna was back there, also. Hearing mention of Kress leaving his post had her sitting up with the most interest she’d shown in days.
“Is he gone?” she asked.
Yerik nodded. “He is up front with the others.”
“Where is Susanna?”
Yerik had to move to the other side of the carriage for that. “I see her,” he said, pressing his face to the opening. “She is by the rear of the carriage.”
Cadelyn thought on that, quickly. If she was to escape the carriage, she wanted Susanna away from the rear door. But she needed a distraction.
“Throw something from the window, Yerik,” she said. “Throw anything to get her away from the door. Have her go and pick it up for you.”
Yerik looked at her curiously. “Why?”
Cadelyn stood up and grabbed her purse, the one that had all of the coinage she’d earned from the sale of her poem cards. She carried it with her everywhere and guarded it fiercely.
“Just do as I say,” she said. “Get her away from the door. Toss out a quill and tell her to retrieve it.”
Puzzled, Yerik did as he was told, picking up one of only two precious quills he had. He returned to the slat window and tossed the quill through it, straining to catch a glimpse of Susanna as he did so.
“My lady?” he called out the window to her. “My lady, my quill has fallen out. Will you get it for me?”
Cadelyn made her way back to the door, lifting the bolt as she waited for Yerik’s confirmation that Susanna had, indeed, moved from her post.
“Well?” she hissed.
Yerik stared from the window a moment longer before nodding his head. “Here she comes.”
“Is she away from the door?”
“She is.”
With that confirmation, Cadelyn threw the bolt and yanked the door open. There were soldiers behind the carriage, in mounted ranks, but she didn’t look at them. They wouldn’t stop her, anyway. With her coin purse on her belt, she made a mad dash through the escort and into the crowd that surrounded them.
Freedom!
Cadelyn didn’t care that she’d just fled her cage. Aye, it was a cage, taking her to her doom. Nothing mattered any longer; not her duties or obligations, nor Kress. He didn’t care about her, anyway, so what did anything matter? She was free and she would remain free.
Free to live her life the way she wanted to.
She wasn’t going to let men control her destiny any longer.
The town was packed with people, laughing and singing, but it was Cadelyn’s determination to get to the church to ask for sanctuary. Once she was inside, and asking for sanctuary, the knights couldn’t touch her and neither could William Marshal. In fact, the king couldn’t even touch her should she be granted sanctuary by the church, so her first order of business was to find it.
But she had to stay hidden if she had any chance of making it because very quickly, she guessed, her absence would be discovered. Pushing her way through the crowd, she ducked in behind a row of small houses.
It was considerably quieter here and far less crowded. There were ducks and geese, and chickens roaming around, and she quickly made her way through the ducks, avoiding the geese that seemed to want to chase her. She ran faster, shooing them away, and they fell off as soon as she crossed over a smaller alleyway and into another yard.
All the while, she could hear the crowds in the street on the other side of the houses, the revelry and singing that was going on. She could also smell roasting meat, causing her stomach to rumble. She hadn’t ate much since Heckington. She simply hadn’t had an appetite. She didn’t have much of one now, either, but she had to eat something soon or she would surely become ill. Already, she was shaking, from hunger probably more than from the excitement of her flight.
She had to make it to that church.
The seconds were ticking away and, any moment, Susanna or Kress would be told of her absence and they would come looking for her. In fact, she thought she heard a shout, and people began screaming. Not all of them, or a great crowd of them, but just a few, as if they’d been disturbed or frightened somehow. Startled, she ran blindly around a corner and down a small, dirty path until she literally stumbled into a walled yard.
The gate had given way when she put her weight on it as she’d stumbled and she found herself in a small garden with a little house attached. Given the chaos of the street only a few houses away, it was strangely still and serene. A tree grew up over the yard, providing some shade on one end, while the majority of the garden had full sun and was in neat rows of growing things.
Startled at the sudden quietness and peacefulness of the little garden, hidden away behind the wall, Cadelyn looked around, thinking it was all rather lovely once she’d gotten over the shock of having literally fallen into it. As she picked herself up off the ground, she was suddenly hit from the side by a big dog with long legs, who jumped up on her with muddy paws and dragged its tongue all over her face.
Disgusted, Cadelyn put her hands on her face, trying to pull away, but the dog was very happy to see her and in his joy, got mud all over her clean cloak. She could hear someone as they emerged from the small house.
“Goliath,” came the old, raspy voice. “Mind your manners, you unruly beast. Down!”
Cadelyn still had her hands up to protect her face from the dog’s slobbering mouth but she could see an old woman heading in her direction, pulling the dog back. Once the dog was under control, the old woman looked at her with concern.
“Can I be of service, my lady?” the woman asked politely. “Are you lost?”
At first, Cadelyn wasn’t sure what to tell her. Was she lost? Sort of, but she didn’t much care. All she cared about at the moment was not being found.
“I… I am running from some men,” she said. “Very bad men. May I stay here until the threat has passed?”
The old woman looked very concerned. “Bad men?” she gasped, rushing to the gate to bolt it. Then, she returned her focus to Cadelyn. “Come, my lady, come. We shall go inside until they stop looking for you.”
Cadelyn gladly went along, thrilled and relieved that the old was so agreeable to helping her. But as she let the old lady take her away, she didn’t realize that the happy dog had knocked her coin purse loose, with all of the money that she’d earned from selling her bawdy poems. That money meant everything to her. But the old woman quickly hustled her inside as the purse remained in the dirt, and no one seemed to notice.
But the dog did.
Goliath saw something different in his garden and he immediately went to it, sniffing it. It smelled different, and being a happy and curious dog, he thought it was something to play with. Picking up the purse with his teeth, he slipped from the garden via a small hole in the stone wall and, with happy tail wagging, headed off towards the sounds of reveling people.
Off went the purse and off went the dog.
“Why didn’t you stop her?”
The question came from Kress, barked out at Yerik so forcefully that the cleric sank back in the carriage, terrified that he was about to have his head ripped from his shoulders.
“I… I did not know what she intended, my lord, I swear it,” Yerik stammered. “She told me to distract Susanna, but I did not know why. Suddenly, she was running from the carriage.”
Kress was beyond frustrated; he was livid. He’d just returned to the carriage to find the door open and no lady inside. The cleric had blubbered something about Cadelyn sprinting off, sending Kress into a panic. With a growl, he turned to Susanna, who had just returned from collecting a quill tossed from a window to find the door open and Cadelyn gone.
“Where were you?” he demanded. “I told you to watch the door.”
Susanna was genuinely shocked. “I was here,” she fired back weakly. “I was gone for only a moment. Just a quick moment.”
Kress’ jaw ticked dangerously. “Long enough that she escaped the carriage,” he said. Then, he turned to the rows of men behind the carriage, looking at the soldiers with an expression to kill. “And you idiots let her go? Why didn’t one of you stop her?”
