Lion Heart (6 page)

David helped the priest to lift away some of the benches and make room for people to sleep, carrying whatever materials he could. Allan found some sort of instrument with strings and he were playing it with charm.

I sat in the corner, listening. I didn't have anything to offer them. I didn't know how to steal this tax for them. I didn't know how to help.

If you embrace who you are, you might find a great many tools at your disposal.
They had been some of Eleanor's last words to me, and they haunted me.

If I were some strange version of a princess, would I have been able to stand up there and tell the knights to stop? Would they have listened?

It wouldn't undo the tax, though, nor the fact that England needed Richard, if only to protect Her from Prince John. I wouldn't change anything.

Besides—I were dead. I had to stay dead.

We left at first light, slipping from the town. A hush had come over them all, this sad kind of accepting. There weren't no other choice; that had been made clear to them fast and swift. The boy's blood were still in the dirt by the well, making it rich and black.

I wondered if John Little's blood were still in the courtyard at Nottingham, staining the stones where Prince John had killed him to get to me.

There were more people on the road. Maybe they thought if they left their homes, if they traveled somewhere else, they could avoid the tax. Maybe they had somewhere safe to go, but it all felt desperate and
sad.

We made Winchester late in the day, and city guards were turning people away at the road before they even got to the city gates. “No visitors!” they shouted. “No visitors!”

David nodded once to us, going over to one of the nonshouting guards. I saw him speak with him, point at me, and speak with him again. The guard shook his head, and then shook his head again. David's face got grim looking, and he came back to us.

“I told him the earl was expecting you,” he said. “They won't let us in.”

My stomach dropped.

“But he said there was someone they could send with a message, but he got angry when I wouldn't give your name. What can we tell him, my lady, that won't betray you?”

“Huntingdon,” I told him quick, the title that should have been Rob's rolling fast off my tongue. “That's the only word he'll need to hear.”

Allan glanced at me, but David nodded, not questioning. David told the guard and the guard went off to the castle.

We moved off the road, going to a tree and sitting in its shade. The spring day weren't overwarm, but the sun made me feel weaker.

“This is because of the tax, isn't it?” I said.

Allan nodded. “Winchester has the reputation as the very best of overlords, my lady. He won't let his people suffer for this tax. I'm certain many people want to be counted amongst his vassals right now.”

“Ourselves included, it would seem,” David said. “How are you feeling, my lady? You should be able to rest for a few days here.”

“I'm fine,” I said quick, but Allan looked at me.

“You're ill?” he asked.

I scowled. “No.”

“She was imprisoned,” David grunted. “For three months. That takes something out of the body, sir.”

“Weren't you her jailer?” Allan asked.

David met his stare. “Yes. And I took the best care of her that I could.”

I patted his arm. “I'm very well, David.”

“So what does that entail?” Allan pressed on. “He let you eat occasionally? Didn't beat you quite as badly as he was meant to? You must tell me more so I have new fodder for a grand song about your brave and valiant acts, Sir Knight.”

David stood.

“He killed another man to save my life,” I said, looking at Allan. “And I won't let you mock him for that.”

Allan sighed, lying down in the grass. “Fine. I'm too
pretty for all this serious business.”

“I can make you a little uglier, if you wish,” David said.

Allan lifted his head. “So you agree—I'm pretty,” he said, smiling.

“Christ,” David muttered, putting his head in his hands.

It took a while for the guard to return with a letter in his hand. I opened it.

My lady M—

This guard will take you to my private hunting lodge outside the city. You will not be safe within the walls. I will join you as soon as I'm able.

—W

I handed it to David as the guard tapped two others and came back over to us. He bowed. “We are fetching horses, my lady. My lord instructed us to take you to his lodge. Forgive our earlier mistake.”

“Hasten your efforts so the lady might forget the slight,” David snapped. I frowned at him, and David gave me a tiny hint of a smile.

The horses appeared in short order, and we mounted
ours as the guards readied themselves. They led us down the road and into the forest near the walled city, to a guarded but modest manor house.

We'd bare set foot within the manor wall when the doors opened again and Winchester appeared, the same tall, handsome young lord I remembered. He saw me and stopped, drawing a deep breath.

Shaking his head, he came to me and bowed. “My lady Princess,” he said quiet. He kissed my good hand. “I never thought to see you alive again.”

I squeezed his hand on mine. “It's good to see you, Winchester. My lord, this is Sir David, and you may remember Allan a Dale.”

Winchester nodded to both of them. “Welcome. Forgive the location, but we are currently entertaining Prince John's knights in the castle, and I assumed by your subterfuge regarding your name that you did not wish to be known. You must come inside, rest, and tell me how it is you came to be here.”

“Yes,” I told him. “But first, I want you to know that I asked Eleanor to meet me here. There is important information she needs to hear—not the least of which is that I'm still alive.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Eleanor? And her ladies?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

He near smiled. “Oh. That's excellent. Fine. Of course, I would love to receive the queen. I'll make sure she is
diverted here so the city is not aware of her presence.” He dropped his head in a bow. “Come. Let's go inside. I'm sure you and your men are hungry.”

“Yes,” Allan said, grinning.

“Shameless,” I heard David grunt.

“There's no glory in shame,” Allan said back.

“So,” Winchester said, sitting at a rather intimidating table after bringing us food and drink and seating me beside him. “Please tell me how you came to be here, my lady.”

“Prince John tried to kill me,” I told him.

Winchester's eyes flicked to Allan. “I had heard he had accomplished that deed long ago.”

“He held me in prisons. Away from Eleanor, I believe.”

Winchester tapped the table. “I was helping her,” he told me. “Eleanor. She didn't believe John had killed you, and she tasked me with finding you. I think I came rather close too. Were you ever at Arundel or Brackley castles?” he asked.

“Yes,” David said. “Both.”

Winchester frowned. “And how would you know that?”

“Eleanor put a knight in Prince John's employ to protect me,” I told him. “David were—David was one of my captors, but he saved my life.” I stumbled over the right words.

Winchester nodded at him. “Your service, sir, is most deeply appreciated.”

David looked down.

“I saved her life too,” Allan said. “From a horde in London! She would have been trampled to death if it weren't for me.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Thank you, Allan.”

He smiled, satisfied.

Winchester looked at me. “Does Locksley know yet?”

I shook my head. “No. I can't get word to him, not if Prince John still thinks I'm dead.” Maybe I would be able to find my way to Nottingham after I told Eleanor; maybe Rob could hide me in the castle until my father returned, and I wouldn't endanger the people with my presence.

Maybe.

“Perhaps I can get word.”

I took in a breath. It spun out before me, Winchester whispering the words to Rob. I could see his face, trying to keep the secret in, relieved and desperate—for only a moment before he stormed out of the castle to find me, wherever I were. If he knew I were alive, he'd burn down Hell itself to get to me. He'd leave the people alone with Prince John as their overlord to find me.

The breath rushed out of me. Unless it were me,
telling him in the flesh, the only thing that would come from Rob knowing were the kind of danger that would leave him dead. And I couldn't go to him until King Richard were safe, and my being alive again wouldn't purchase someone else's death. “Let me think about it,” I told him.

His brows knit together, but he nodded. “Why would Prince John dare to kill you? And why now, after hiding you for so long?” Winchester asked.

I looked up at him for a moment. “I think he means to kill Richard. Or try to, anyway. He told me that Richard would never return to England.”

Winchester leaned back, his jaw tight. “That damn coward,” he grunted. “While I believe it, that is a very steep charge, Marian. Do you know how?”

I shook my head.

“You're right,” he said. “He'd never risk harming you if he thought he'd have to face Richard.”

“Which makes me wonder if he's been planning this since the day he took my fingers,” I said to him, my words soft.

Winchester glanced at me, and then toward the hand I kept hidden under the table, and made a
hmm
noise.

I looked away. “You're refusing people at the gates?” I asked.

He sighed, nodding. “For now. Too many people are
coming through, and the city can't hold them. I have enough money and food to keep my people safe, and until I figure out how to do more, that's all I can promise them.”

“We were in Silchester when the news came,” I told him. “The knights killed a boy for throwing something at them.”

His shoulders dropped. “I will see what I can do to help them,” he said solemn.

“I didn't mean for you to take responsibility,” I told him, shaking my head.

“And yet I must. Nobles are frightened, Lady Marian. They aren't defending their people, much less taking care of them. They are afraid of mobs and riots, of starvation and poverty. They are neglecting their duty. But I will not forget what that duty is. Even if I must do the work of others.”

“Perhaps that is true,” I told him. “But you didn't kill that boy. I didn't kill that boy. I will find out who made that man believe he had any right to do it.” I shook my head. “Have you . . .” I drew a breath, trying to find the words. “When did you last—when did you see him?”

He swallowed. “A few weeks ago.”

I just looked at him.

“He . . . he would greatly benefit from hearing you're alive,” he told me.

His careful words stabbed me. “He's not doing well,”
I said.

“He's not bad,” Allan said, and I looked to him. “He's just not nearly the same man he is when you're with him, lady thief.”