Boadicea's Legacy (34 page)

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Authors: Traci E Hall

BOOK: Boadicea's Legacy
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“In my quest to find Boadicea's spear, I came across an old man who lived in the marshes near the Fens. He gave me this coin,” he held it up, but neither he nor Ela looked at it—they stared into each other's eyes. “And he told me that I would find Iceni treasure on my quest.”

Ela's eyes welled with tears. Os cleared his throat, then pressed the worn leather thong into Ela's palm. “And it did. It brought me to you. I've worn this every day since he gave it to me, and now I'd like you to have it.” He leaned forward, kissing each of her tear-damp cheeks. “Good fortune, Ela, wife of Osbert Edyvean. I will love you for eternity.”

“For eternity,” she whispered. “Here.” She gave the necklace back and shoved her beautiful hair to the side. “Tie it on me? I will wear it proudly.”

They kissed, sweet promises of the night to come.

The earl clapped his approval. “Hear, hear. I've wine for a toast in my solar. Thanks be to you, Father.”

Effectively dismissing the priest, the earl led the way to a small open chamber that overlooked the training yard. “I will miss you, Osbert. You have a gift for patience with the young hotbloods. For patience with anyone.”

Os dipped his head at the compliment.

“Sit, both of you. The sooner we get started the sooner we finish.”

He felt Ela's questioning gaze, but simply clasped her hand, asking silently for time. She pressed back. He was no longer alone.

They sat side by side on the long bench against the wall as the earl ruffled through some papers on his large oak desk. He slammed his fist down, then waved for a servant to get his clerk. “And tell him he'd better have those documents I wanted. Or I'll have his hide!”

Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk and High Steward of England, leaned his bulk against the edge of the desk and clasped his hands in front of him. “While we wait,” he said with a wink, “why don't we talk about what you learned last night from Kailyn? Are you any closer to finding the spear?”

Ela shook her head. “Nay, but Kailyn told us a little more about the legend surrounding the spear. It seems that whoever holds it on British soil will, for certes, win the battle. Well, the person holding the sword must be a Briton.”

The earl tugged at a lock of hair falling over his ear. “Aye. For the good of Britain.” He narrowed his eyes. “Richard was a strong king—an absent king, and one that bled the coffers dry, but he was a man that the people could follow. A king that could unite a country.” He laughed sourly. “Even when he wasn't in it.”

Os sat very still. Ela, mayhap sensing his tension, did the same.

“We don't have that kind of king anymore. Will England
suffer for it, Osbert? What think you?”

Osbert wasn't sure what to say. Logic bade him support his liege, but he also owed fealty to King John. They all did.

Ela surprised him by saying, “The good of the country should come before the king. Shouldn't it? The land is what sustains us all. The king is but a man who others put in power.”

Her impetuousness was going to get them killed.

“What my wife meant—,” Os began.

“I can speak for myself, thank you, sir.”

The earl laughed low. “Your husband is an honorable man, my lady. And I count on his judgment. Though I know you've earned the prize of land and wife, Os, I can't help but regret granting it.”

Os felt the tremor in Ela's body as her apprehension grew.

“Your lady wife is right though. Kings come and go.”

Osbert was not deceived by the earl's light tone. What was he thinking? What plan was he hatching? It was common knowledge that the earl had been Richard's man, and all were waiting to see what would happen. Would John keep Roger in office or replace him with a man of his own choosing?

“I've done my job well,” the earl said, looking from Ela to him. “I've earned the respect of my peers. But we shall have to see what we see. Oh—that reminds me.” The earl turned back and picked up a missive.

Again, Os was not fooled. The earl wanted something—but what?

Roger paced before them, an actor reading his lines.
“I've news that John is to marry Isabella of Angouleme.”

Osbert's pulse sped. “Wasn't she betrothed to Hugh le Brun?”

“Aye. The
king
, in all his majesty's wisdom, went to settle with the Lusignans—instead, this should rile them up even more.”

Os reached back into his memory for what he'd heard of political intrigue. With the new king, gossip ran rampant. “But she's only twelve—perhaps the king means to carry out a long betrothal and see how that goes?”

“He's quite besotted with the young lass and can't keep his jeweled hands off of her.” The earl snorted with disgust. “They'll be wed by August.”

“What does that mean for England?” Ela looked from Os to Roger. Os had no way of warning her to still her tongue.

“There are all sorts of ramifications. In this world, a man must make his own path—forge his own destiny. I wish I knew where mine lay. Kailyn foretells that I will remain in power, but under which king? That part isn't clear.”

Os tightened his shoulders. What the earl was saying bordered on treason.

“Has the king named an heir as of yet?” Ela's innocent question was like a bolt of lightning in a charged sky.

“If Constance of Brittany has her way, then Arthur will be named as heir for the kingdom of England, but only if Arthur agrees to stop fighting for the throne whilst John is sitting on it.” The earl lifted the letter. “Arthur's been close before, and some say he still has a right to wear the crown. His father, Geoffrey, was next in line after Richard. Had he
lived, he would have been king before John.”

Osbert took a calming breath, hoping to add reason to the conversation.
“King
John will surely return home to wed, for the coronation ceremony if nothing else. Patience is a tried and true way to see the path in front of you. Fate has a way of rewarding the just.” Osbert folded his arms over his chest. What would he do if his liege chose to fight for Arthur?

“That's why you want the spear?” Ela asked—completely without guile, which was probably why she kept her head.

The earl's face turned the color of a ripe purple plum, and he skewered them both with eyes gone hard as stone. “I will protect my position of power.” He released a sigh and patted Osbert's shoulder. “But I will heed your well-said council. Patience.”

Os gritted his teeth, praying that the crisis was truly averted.

The earl returned to his perch against the desk. “I've also had word that Thomas is headed for France, just as he was told to do. You've no worries to start your new life.”

A tall, thin clerk came barreling across the floor to the solar. “Your papers, my lord.”

“Did you run all the way, man? What is the matter with you? Begone.” The earl shooed him away, then turned his attention back to Os, then Ela. To Os's relief, it was as if the previous conversation had never happened.

“My lady Ela. I am gifting your new husband his own title of lord. He shall take over the keep that is on the parcel of land near your home.”

Ela let a happy giggle escape like a bubble from water. Os narrowed his eyes, then reacted as the words sank in. “My lord? What are you saying?”

“I can't have a humble knight marry a fair lady of the land. You will swear fealty to me, and through me, the king. I expect for you to take a handful of men—no more than five—to start your homestead.”

“My thanks.” Os could feel Ela's excitement. It echoed his own.

“I expect for you both to be loyal to me. When I call for you, you must come and stand at my side. Ela, Kailyn mentioned that you have gifts as a healer. If we have need of one, I will expect you to be ready.” His face fell. “I would like for you to visit my wife today. She's … not feeling well.”

Ela nodded, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Os wondered how she was managing to stay still.

“These documents have been signed and recorded, so you shall have no legal issues regarding the new property. And Osbert, I've had your money turned into gold coin as you asked. I hadn't realized how wealthy you were. But with a new home and knights to keep, you'll need every penny.” The earl reached over and tapped Ela's nose.

“Make certain to buy your wife something pretty. Prettier than an old coin on a leather braid.”

Chapter
Eighteen

T
ell me again how you came to be rich.” Ela, beautifully dressed for riding, sat atop her white mare like a princess. She and Osbert were four days outside Norwich Castle and meandering toward their new home at a leisurely pace. She reflected that it was much different than the way they'd arrived at Norwich. Personally, she preferred the inns and good food, the clean sheets, and the pretty new dresses. “‘Tis like a fairy tale.”

She refused to take off the Iceni coin on its leather thong.

“I am not rich.” Osbert rode Bartholomew as if he were leading a parade. Head high, proud. Handsome. Her heart fluttered within her chest, and she could hardly wait to stop for the night. The pleasures of love were many and varied, and Os promised that there was much more to be learned.

“Then tell me again how you earned your way.” She smiled in anticipation. Listening to his voice made her entire body hum. “Not just the tournaments.”

“You know that in the beginning of my service for the earl,
I acted as guardian for the earl's relatives as they traveled.” She nodded.

“After a year or so, I was given the honor of escorting the earl's mother's cousin as she went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land. She wanted to bring a gift to Jerusalem, and I was to guard the wagon that carried the ‘treasure.' This was right after Sir Percy died, and I was glad of the opportunity to see the sands of the desert. Sir Percy had always talked about his time on Crusade.”

Os laughed, and Ela remembered a time when he hadn't laughed so easily.

“As a young boy, I made Sir Percy crazed, wanting to hear about the churches and the temples and Saladin—the infidel have curved swords, you see. I wanted to hold one for myself, just to see if it really cut.”

Ela laughed encouragingly. “And?”

“There were a few skirmishes along the way where I learned how wickedly sharp those curved swords were, but our swords are much better.”

“How could they not be?”

“We arrived late to the city gates. I bribed an official to give us safe passage. We took the treasure to the church, with ceremony and dignity.”

He scratched his ear, grinning at the memory.

“The old woman opened the trunk that held the treasure, as reverent as you please. When she took out a three-month-old moldy cake and set it on the altar as a gift for our Lord, well … I wanted to sink into quicksand.”

“Oh no!”

“The officials were kind and most acted as if this was a perfectly acceptable offering. Except for the one I'd bribed, who gave me back my coin. He said he didn't need it—once he told his friends what happened, they would buy him wine and figs just to hear the tale of the odd English offering again.”

Ela laughed so hard her belly ached, and Henry chittered his concern. “What did you do after that?”

“When we returned home, I told the earl what had happened. By this time, I wasn't as embarrassed, and I could see the humor in it. The earl gave me Bartholomew, and I've been acting as his man of business ever since. He sends me to different places to gather information or items. I protect his family when they travel. He knows I can keep a secret, and I would never steal from him.”

Her heart swelled with pride.

“You are a good man, Osbert.”

He reached out to touch her leg as they rode. “You make me a better one.”

“Why do you think we never found eternal love in our past lives?” Ela wondered if that had something to do with why she couldn't see his aura.

Os shrugged. “I don't want to question it, for fear of risking our happiness now. I would protect that as fiercely as I would protect you from harm.”

“I don't require protecting.” Ela rolled her eyes, then leaned over to tickle his side. Right beneath his rib was where he was most ticklish. “You do!”

He urged Bartholomew to a run. “Can you keep up?”

“Bo and I accept your challenge—hyah!” Ela lifted her chin, catching the wind as it rushed against her face. They ran, but couldn't catch her husband. Riding like a lady made winning difficult. Os waited gallantly at the end of the road.

“You came in second, my lady.”

“You cheated.”

“Cheated?” His blue-gray eyes flashed.

“Aye. You aren't wearing a dress.” She tipped her nose in the air and pranced Bo, short for Boadicea, past him.

“You don't need to wear one either,” he said in a low voice filled with promise.

Ela winked at him, then set Bo running as fast as she could. “To the curve in the road,” she shouted.

She won by a hair and allowed Os to help her dismount. “You let me win.”

“Nay,” he said, holding her close to his heart.

She lifted her mouth for a kiss. “Aye. You did. But now we both can win.” Laughing, they led the horses from the road to a vacant field. They found a trickling stream and a shady tree, which shielded them as they made love with tender urgency.

“Will you tell me how you came by these scars?” Ela traced each one with her lips.

“My mentor believed that a boy learned faster beneath the rod. Or willow branch, in my case.”

Ela wrapped her arms around him. “I will never let
anything bad happen to you again.”

“Sir Percy wasn't a bad man. Just a strict one.”

“Will you be so strict, when we have children?”

Os nuzzled his nose to her bare belly. “Never. They'll be spoiled and difficult because I will love them beyond reason. How many shall we have? Dozens?”

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