Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 02 (21 page)

“William,” Anne admonished. “Think of what you just said. You are attempting to save the man’s life. Why would he accuse you of theft?”

“Oh, right.” William smiled sheepishly. “I suppose the king’s man has me doubting my own honesty.” Slightly shaking his head, he added, “I shall be prepared to ride out at first light, Winifred.”

“You forgot about me,” Betta spoke as she entered. “I have known Lecie far longer than any of you. She is more of a daughter to me than one of my own would ever be.”

Sharing an uneasy look between them, Winifred decided to trust Betta. “Do you think you can speak to Harsent when Gunilda is not about?”

“I can try,” Betta replied. “Gunilda plays on Harsent’s fears of being cast out when she is no longer able to support herself. I have no doubt Gunilda made assurances it would not happen were Harsent to do her bidding.”

“Lady Lecie would never be so cruel,” Anne spoke up. “I have not known her long, yet would vouch to that fact.”

“Harsent is decent enough,” Betta said in her friend’s defense. “Unfortunately, it is drink that guides her thoughts and actions these days.”

“Then please do what you can to convince her to speak the truth,” Winifred replied.

“I shall try.”

“On behalf of our lady and Sir Albin, I thank you all.”

The next morning dawned clear and cool as Lecie dressed in a dark brown kirtle and cream chemise. Pinching her cheeks to add color to her ashen face, she smoothed her hair back to plait into a single thick braid.

“The hangman shall prefer it that way.” Strolling into the master chamber, Gunilda’s lip twisted into a snarl. “He will have less of your hair to untangle from the rope when the deed is done.”

“I ordered you to be gone from here,” Lecie ground out as she whirled to face the gloating woman. “Leave now, or by all that is holy I vow to earn the title of murderer.”

“Tis a shame you no longer have the authority here. The king’s justice has ordered me to remain so that I may testify against you.”

“Be that as it may, I suggest you remove yourself from my sight.”

“From what I hear you shall not be seeing anyone by day’s end.” Flicking her dark eyes to Albin resting fitfully on the bed, Gunilda threw her head back with a harsh laugh. “Still, you need not overly fret. Your knight is sure to join you in the hereafter afore long.”

Crossing the chamber in three strides, Lecie hauled back her hand to strike Gunilda across the face. “You conniving whore.” Seizing Gunilda’s shoulders, she pulled her close enough to smell her rancid breath. “Know you this, dead or not, if Albin dies there is no place on this isle you can hide from my wrath.” 

“You speak of witchery,” Gunilda gasped.

“Aye, I do,” Lecie agreed with a bitter smile. “By my blood and the heart that pumps it, I curse you, Gunilda. Come what may by the end of this day, I shall not rest in my grave until you have repented and paid for your crimes against my loved ones.”

Gunilda crossed herself as she slowly backed towards the door. “Your words do not scare me.”

“Do they not? Then tell me why you are shaking harder than the leaves even now shedding from the trees beyond yon window?” She clapped her hands loudly together, and Gunilda’s shriek brought a smile to Lecie’s face. “Confess your lies to the justice and I shall remove my curse.”

“You murdered Hamon and deserve to die for it.” Her eyes wide with fright, Gunilda’s voice shook.

“Very well.” Closing her eyes, Lecie held her hands out, palms up. “Do not say I did not warn you.”

“No, you cannot.” 

“Get you down below, Gunilda,” Winifred snapped from the doorway. “The justice is requesting your presence.”

Gunilda shrieked as she whirled around. “Lecie has gone mad and sold her soul to the devil.”

“With you bearing false witness against her, who could blame her?” Winifred hissed.

“She cursed me.”

“As will I, if you do not remove your loathsome self from my sight.” Winifred slammed the door before Gunilda cleared it, striking her hard on the backside.

Exhaling heavily, she turned to Lecie with a pleased smile. “I know it is against God’s will to carry hate in our heart, yet I feel some people are deserving of it.”

“Aye, I could not agree more,” Lecie replied. “I do not suppose there has there been any word from Sir Talan or Castell Maen?”

“There has been no word as of yet. Yet I hold to the faith that they shall come in time to save Sir Albin.”

“I am not a witch, you know,” Lecie changed the subject. “I happened to overhear some travelers speak of a bewitched woman in a keep to the north, and sought to scare Gunilda into confessing the truth.”

“You need not explain such to me,” Winifred reassured her. “I would vouch to Gunilda being a witch far sooner than I ever would you.”

“Winifred, I have a favor to ask of you,” Her eyes resting on Albin, tears slipped down Lecie’s cheeks. “Would you hold a message in confidence for my husband?”

“That will not be necessary.” Wrapping an arm around Lecie’s slouched shoulders, Winifred lent her support. “You shall pass your own message to him after all this is over.”

“Forever an optimist, are you not?” Lecie smiled despite the lead weight resting in her belly. “You do so remind me of my mother.”

“And like her and your Da, the rest of us will be with you in spirit this day.” Releasing Lecie’s shoulder, Winifred solemnly met her gaze. “No matter what happens, you must be strong to the end. You are the lady wife of a knight of the realm. Do us all proud.”

“I shall, Winifred.” Lecie inhaled a deep calming breath. “I have done nothing wrong and the king’s itinerant justice shall see no weakness on my part. I vow it.”

“I warrant he shall not.” Winifred smiled. “Finish preparing yourself, I shall await you below.”

Perched on the edge of the bed, Lecie’s resolve faltered as she gazed down at Albin. Shadowing the last days of her father, dark circles beneath his eyes stood out in stark contrast to his sickly pallor.

“You must fight, husband.” Taking his hand, she clasped it tight between hers. “I can bear anything that befalls me this day so long as I know you live on.”

As if in reply, Albin moaned low.

“I love you. I always have and I always shall.”  Rising, she bent to kiss his heated brow. “Always.”

With a last look at her beloved, Lecie held her head high and left the chamber to face her fate.

Other than Justice de Glanville, seated at a table, and William standing behind the bar, the sheriff and his sons were the only ones in the common room when Lecie entered.

Acknowledging the sympathetic looks of Sheriff Richard and his sons with a slight nod to each, she stepped before the seated justice. “I am prepared to depart at your leisure, lord justice.”

Steepling his fingers, Justice de Glanville slowly ran his eyes over her apparel. “Do you not wish to break your fast this morn, my lady?”

“I find I am not at all hungry,” Lecie replied softly.

“Troubling thoughts, perhaps?” Picking up his gold hilted dinner knife, Justice de Glanville speared a slice of cold fowl. “I, however, am not afflicted by such. We shall depart after I have eaten.”

“With your permission I will leave you to wait in the kitchen.” Lecie dipped her head.

“No, you shall not.” The justice’s words drew Lecie up short. “I will not risk the chance of you fleeing.”

“My lord justice,” the sheriff spoke. “I cannot fathom such a thought ever entering Lady Lecie’s mind. I will personally vouch to her honorable nature.”

“I shall attend her if it will ease your mind, my lord justice,” Leofrick added.

“I need not remind you, Sheriff Richard, that you answer to me just as I answer to King Henry himself.” Justice de Glanville spoke around a mouthful of meat. “Do not make me remind you again that it is I who am in charge here.”

The sheriff dipped his head low yet remained silent.

Averting her eyes from the group, Lecie pulled out a chair at the next table to sit down. Inwardly fighting the temptation to fidget, she stared into the banked hearth and waited.

The silence grew palpable as the justice took his time eating. Calling for more ale, he studied Lecie until she felt his regard and flushed with color.

Briefly meeting his unwavering gaze, she focused on the door, willing Sir Talan to walk through it with her ladyship Reina. When it actually opened inward, she nearly came out of her chair with a small gasp.

Recognizing the pair of women who entered, she stood the rest of the way. She was pleased to see Mylla being escorted by her mother.

“Lecie,” Mylla exclaimed. Rushing over, she threw her arms around her only to draw back to search her face. “We heard word of such awful things, we came back at once. Are you and Sir Albin both well?”

Lightly patting Mylla’s back, Lecie eased from her embrace. “My husband is gravely ill and as for me, I shall know my fate soon enough.”

“You cannot mean to say the rumors are true? You stand accused of murder?” Turning to her father, Mylla spotted Justice de Glanville for the first time. Quickly averting her eyes, she moved closer to Lecie.

Hastily brushing his hands together, Justice de Glanville stood with an appraising smile. “It seems your daughter has returned earlier than expected, Sheriff.”

“So it does appear,” Sheriff Richard replied with a frown towards his wife. “Regardless of what you may have heard, your duty is to your ill kin, Emmaline.”

“It was my doing, Da,” Mylla spoke from her place beside Lecie. “I begged her to return after hearing Lecie has been charged with murder. Surely, this cannot be true?” 

“I am afraid it is true, my lovely,” Justice de Glanville replied. “Since you are here, you can see me dispense the king’s justice firsthand.”

Mylla’s eyes widened at the endearment as she acknowledged the justice. “My lord justice, there has to be a mistake. I have known Lecie all of my life and she would never harm another unless it was warranted.”

“In that, we shall see.” Shoving his chair back, the justice presented his arm to Mylla. “Come, I shall escort you to the square.”

Leaving her no choice but to accept, Mylla nervously met her father’s helpless gaze as she stepped forward. “I have no doubt Lecie shall be vindicated.”

Justice de Glanville flicked his eyes to Lecie as she stood to accept Leofrick’s arm. “Come what may, justice will be had.”

Averting her eyes, Lecie glanced back towards the back wall where Winifred stood weeping softly beside her husband. Forcing a smile for the pair, she slightly dipped her head.

“God be with you, my lady,” Winifred called after her. 

Following Justice de Glanville and Mylla, Lecie and Leofrick heard the sheriff and his wife speaking in angry hushed tones behind them.

“There is no ill kin.” Noting Lecie’s interest in the conversation, Leofrick leaned close to whisper. “Father wanted Mylla to be absent when Justice de Glanville returned to the village.”

“Knowing what kind of man he is, surely your father will not entertain the idea of him courting her?” Her eyes flying to the back of the despicable man walking beside her gentle and beautiful friend, Lecie felt even sicker.

“Unfortunately, my father has little say in the matter,” Leofrick replied grimly. “Our livelihood can be taken away with one negative word spoken by the justice to the king.”

“There is no justice in this world for people of no rank,” Lecie whispered in a broken voice. “I cannot see her with such a vile man.”

“Nor can any of us.” Gently squeezing Lecie’s hand, he spoke low. “Forgive me I should not have said anything. You have enough trouble knocking at your door this day.”

“Mylla is my closest friend, I am thankful that you confided in me. I would share her burden if I could.”

“No thanks are needed Mylla feels the same way about you.” Glancing down at her, Leofrick smiled sadly. “As we all do.”

“You feel there is no hope for me?” Lecie stated softly pressing her lips together to keep them from quivering.

“We fear the justice will use you to seek revenge on behalf of his friend,” Leofrick admitted. “My father will do all he can to stop him.”

Lecie focused on the back of the justice when she responded. “What can your father do to save me when he has no other choice than to sacrifice his only daughter to the man?”

Leofrick exhaled heavily as he searched for an answer.

“Do not fret, Leofrick. I have already prepared myself to die this day.” Holding her head high, Lecie ignored the curious gazes directed her way as they entered the village square.

A cart pulled by two mules had been set below the ancient oak dubbed the hanging tree in the center of the square. A noose tied to a thick branch above the cart waited ominously swinging in the brisk autumn wind. Surrounding the tree itself, villagers gathered on blankets or crowded on carts and wagons in preparation of the proceedings to come.

Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of a wagon where the body of Hamon lay off to the side on the sloping rise. “At least the justice had the decency to have him covered.”

“Only after father’s insistence,” Leofrick replied. “Justice de Glanville would have had him propped up for all to see.”

“We are here for you, Lecie,” Edmund spoke softly from behind her. “The villagers know and respect you. I am assured they will act accordingly.”

“Thank you, Edmund,” Lecie responded over her shoulder. “Though I believe having rotten vegetables tossed at my head is the least of my concerns at the moment.”

“Assist her into the cart.” Whirling around, Justice de Glanville addressed Leofrick.

“Pardon me?” Leofrick drew to a stunned halt. “I must have heard you incorrectly, my lord justice. The cart acts as a deterrent for those pondering ill will, and awaits only those found guilty of the crime for which they are charged. Surely it would send out the wrong message to the crowd were you to change this tradition?”

“Are you refusing my order?” Justice de Glanville’s dark eyes narrowed as he waited for Leofrick to respond.

Sensing her friend’s hesitancy, Lecie hiked her skirts up to climb the sloping rise leading to the cart. “I need no assistance.”

Hoisting herself up into the back of the wagon, Lecie stepped around the noose to face the justice. “I await your pleasure, my lord justice.”

“Oh, I have every intention of being pleased this day, Lady Lecie,” the justice replied with a sneer. Escorting Mylla to one of the three long benches placed at the base of the rise, he strode up the slope to address the crowd. “Good people of Rochester, you are gathered here today to hear evidence of murder.”

“My lady Lecie feeds those who have naught in the winter,” a disembodied voice called from the dense crowd. “She would do harm to none.”

“Aye,” another called. “If she did wield a blade against Hamon, he deserved it.”

The crowd began to murmur in agreement when Gunilda stood from a bench placed to the side of the cart reserved for witnesses. “I saw her murder Hamon with my own eyes,” she shouted. “As did Harsent seated beside me. Think what you will of us, we still have eyes and are here to swear by what we saw.”

Pale and sweating, Harsent refused to raise her eyes from her lap where she fidgeted nervously with the ends of a threadbare shawl.

“Good people,” Justice de Glanville called. “We have more than two eyes witnesses to prove that Lady Lecie stabbed an unarmed man in the back.” Casting a glare over his shoulder he continued, “We also have an unimpeachable witness who overheard the lady threatening the life of the man called Hamon only days prior to his death.”

“My lord justice,” the sheriff stepped from his place at the foot of the rise. “Lady Lecie spoke of fear under the belief that Hamon would do harm to the children. I did not mention it for you to use against her in this proceeding.”

“Nevertheless, you did mention the
fact
that the lady threatened the dead man,” the justice replied. “There is a witness testifying to that fact.”

His tall frame sagging in defeat, Sheriff Richard briefly gazed at Lecie with remorse before stepping back to stand with his sons.

Her heart pounding in fear at the implications, Lecie managed a weak smile for him. Resigned to her fate, she closed her eyes and sent up a prayer for Albin’s recovery.

Withdrawing Albin’s silver dinner knife, the justice held it up for the silent crowd to see. The early morning sun glinted off the polished blade as he called, “Gunilda of Rochester, do you recognize this blade?”

“Aye,” Gunilda responded loudly. “I do, my lord justice. Tis the blade Lecie drove into poor Hamon’s back when he was paying his respects to Sir Albin.”

“Harsent of Rochester, do you likewise recognize this blade?” When Harsent failed to respond, the justice’s gaze bore down on her where she sat huddled beside Gunilda. “Well, do you?”

Cringing at his booming voice, Harsent began to shake uncontrollably.

Gunilda leaned over to hiss in her ear as Harsent reluctantly raised her eyes to where Winifred stood beside Simon, William and Merek.

“Harsent of Rochester,” the justice thundered as he came to stand before her. “Know you the penalty of rescinding previous testimony given to the king’s itinerant justice?” Leaning close to Harsent, he hissed, “It is death.”

“I saw her,” Harsent mumbled low.

“You saw who, do what exactly?” the justice called loudly.

“I saw what Gunilda said I saw,” Harsent replied weakly.

“You heard for yourselves good people of Rochester,” the justice called. “Two witnesses testifying to the fact that Lady Lecie is guilty of murder.”

“My lord justice,” the sheriff once again stepped forward. “It is obvious the woman has been coerced into testifying against Lady Lecie.”

Pinning the sheriff with his gaze, the justice spoke low, “Interfere once more and I shall see your position stripped by day’s end.”

When Sheriff Richard refused to budge, Lecie spoke for the first time. “Sheriff, Rochester needs you more than I.”

The sheriff stepped up to the base of the wagon to face her. “Then I would ask your forgiveness for the injustice done this day, Lecie.”

“You have it, along with my gratitude for your friendship and kindness towards my family.” Tears slipped down her cheeks as she bent to kiss his cheek. “Please see the children are taken care of if my husband does not make it through.”

“I give you my word.” Sheriff Richard dipped his head. “Your parents would be as proud of you as I am, lass.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. Rising, she once again focused on the justice.

Irritated by the delay, the justice called the talking crowd to order. “Good people of Rochester, I can see where you can have an emotional attachment to Lady Lecie.” Flicking his gaze to the sheriff, he continued, “Nonetheless, justice must be upheld or the kingdom will fall into anarchy.”

“Let Lady Lecie tell us what happened,” a voice from the crowd called.

Searching for the speaker, the justice scowled when cries of agreement reached his ears.

“If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to lose,” the female voice cried. “Let the lady speak.”

“Aye,” the crowd chorused. “Let the lady speak.”

“Very well,” the justice snapped. “I am nothing if not fair.”

Recognizing the woman’s voice, Lecie searched until she found Winifred boldly standing beside her husband. Tears filled her eyes as she met the elder woman’s gaze. Slightly shaking her head, she willed Winifred to understand her meaning not to interfere.