"Of course you will be," Sarah said soothingly. Her voice low to avoid disturbing those who slept, she ordered her husband to take the girl into the wagon, her maid Rachel to heat some soup over the fire, and her son Aaron to see that the horse was unsaddled and rubbed down.
After Benjamin had laid the girl on a pallet in the wagon, he came back to the campfire to find Aaron staring at the wagon. "Father," he hissed, "did you see who that was? The Countess of Shropshire. Warfield's wife!"
"Indeed!" Startled, the merchant compared the strained face of this girl with the sweetly pretty young countess, then scanned the horse whose reins Aaron held. Under its mud and fatigue, it was a valuable beast. "Perhaps you are right."
"I know I'm right!" his son said, fury burning through his low voice. "Warfield would not let us stay in Shrewsbury. Why should we help his wife?"
"It was his right to refuse," Benjamin said mildly. "He could have done a good deal worse to us."
"What if Warfield finds her here and accuses us of abducting her?" Aaron demanded. "He might kill us all out of hand. We should put her back on her horse and send her off."
Benjamin shook his head. "You see the Countess of Shropshire. I see an exhausted girl who might not survive the night on her own. A girl, I might add, who was most considerate of us when we were at Warfield."
"You would help her even if it means risking the lives of everyone in your household?"
"If a Jew will not show compassion, then who will?" Benjamin laid a calming hand on his son's arm. "Some things must be done because they are right, Aaron."
The young man's anger deflated and his eyes fell. "I'm sorry. Father. I should not have spoken as I did."
"It's wise to be cautious, but not to take out one's anger on someone who is helpless. Now, get you off and see to her horse."
* * *
Meriel had only the dimmest recollection of being stripped, dressed in a warm, dry gown, and wrapped in a blanket. Then the handsome middle-aged woman fed her hot pea soup. Meriel was reminded of her own mother.
At first her teeth chattered against the cup, but eventually warmth began to return and she gained the strength to study the crowded wagon. Her rescuers appeared to be prosperous folk. Canvas walls and roof protected the load, which was mostly household furnishings. A space had been left at the back end of the wagon so several pallets could be laid side by side. A single flickering lamp illuminated the scene as the two women sat cross-legged on the pallets.
After finishing the soup, she said, "Thank you, mistress. I do not know how I would have managed without your kindness." After a moment she remembered to add, "My name is Meriel."
"I am Sarah." The woman cocked her head, her dark eyes bright with curiosity. "Do you mind if I ask what you were doing alone in the forest at such a late hour?"
Meriel swallowed hard. "It is very complicated. I... I was in an accident and I don't remember exactly what has happened lately." Thoughts of Lord Adrian and his impossible, confusing claims suddenly overwhelmed her. Linking her arms around her raised knees, she bent her head to conceal her tears.
"Surely you remember that you are the Countess of Shropshire," Sarah said, a faint, questioning lift to her voice.
Aghast, Meriel raised her head. "You mean it's true? I really am Lord Adrian's wife?"
"We saw you at the earl's side at Warfield Castle. The wedding was recent enough that people still talked of it."
Meriel linked her trembling hands together. "What is the date today?"
The older woman calculated. "It was Midsummer's Day a fortnight ago, so today must be the seventh of July."
"Then it must be true," Meriel whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "I have forgotten almost two months."
"Do you want to tell me your story, my lady?" Sarah said gently. "Sometimes it helps to talk to another woman."
Her kindness was a desperately needed balm to Meriel's lacerated emotions. In halting words, her voice sometimes breaking, she recounted all she remembered, from the time she met the earl in the forest to her awakening by the stone circle earlier in the afternoon.
Sarah listened intently, sometimes asking for clarification or prompting her with a question. When her visitor was done, the older woman shook her head in amazement. "It's a strange tale. To lose two whole months, and such significant months!"
Her expression troubled, Sarah continued slowly, "Not remembering all that had happened, it's understandable that you were frightened when you woke up earlier today. But he is your husband. You seemed happy together from what we saw and heard at Warfield. In fact, the folk at the castle spoke of how you and Earl Adrian doted on each other. Isn't your place with him?"
"Never!" Meriel said vehemently. "The Church says that a marriage is not valid without mutual consent, and I would never have agreed if I were not having a spell of madness."
Her hands clenched and she felt the hard shape of her wedding ring. Angrily she tried to remove it, but after hours of holding wet reins her fingers were swollen, and to her intense frustration the ring would not come off.
"You may not be the only one concerned in this, Lady Meriel," Sarah said. "You have been married several months, and might already be with child. Perhaps not, but if you are carrying the earl's heir, surely he'll fight to keep the marriage."
With child! Meriel's hand went to her abdomen in shock. With startling vividness she recalled how she had woken earlier today, the earl's body intertwined with her own. She had exact memories of the weight and taste and feel of him. Perhaps she had not been only his victim. In her madness, she might have cooperated in her own ruin. The thought was so sickening that she doubled over, on the verge of nausea.
Sarah's soft arms came around her. "I'm sorry, child, you have already too much to think of. It's best to go to your brother until you come to terms with all that has happened to you. Perhaps you will remember some of the missing months, which could make the fact of your marriage more acceptable. Your husband is a handsome man, and he's said to have integrity and compassion." She chuckled wryly. "He would not have us in Shrewsbury, which is proof that he's a good son of the Church."
"He is not my husband!" Meriel clung to Sarah until her spinning head steadied. As she straightened up, she wondered about the older woman's last remark. "What do you mean that he would not have you in Shrewsbury?''
"Aye, you would not remember," Sarah murmured. "We are Jews, Lady Meriel. We were looking to settle away from London." Succinctly she explained Guy of Burgoigne's deceitful offer, and how they had learned the truth at Warfield.
Meriel studied her hostess curiously. "I see that my life is not the only one that is complicated."
Sarah raised her dark brows. "You needn't look at me like that. Jews are not so different from Christians, you know, we may prepare our food differently but we don't have horns!"
Meriel blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I have never met any Jews before. I don't know what I expected." After a moment's pause, she added, "You have been very kind. If there is ever anything I can do for you..."
"Just lend a hand to the next poor soul in trouble," Sarah said with a yawn. "It's very late, time we were both in bed. I expect my husband is ready as well."
Stifling her guest's apologies about keeping them up late, Sarah tucked the younger woman into one of the pallets. Meriel was asleep even before Benjamin climbed into the wagon.
* * *
The party rose early the next morning, breaking their fast with bread and cheese and ale no different from what Meriel might have had at Avonleigh. All of Benjamin's household seemed to be Jewish as well; so much for the myth that all Jews were rich moneylenders. The household were like a large family, with Benjamin the patriarch of them all. It was not unlike a Christian manor with a good lord and lady.
All of the servants were kind to Meriel, though Aaron, the son of the house, watched her with wary curiosity. Was he contrasting her present state to when he had seen her as Countess of Shropshire? Meriel's mind ve
ered away from the thought. She was not yet ready to think of what must have passed between her and Adrian of Warfield.
It had been agreed that Meriel would ride with the party at least to the other side of the forest. She was about to mount her horse when a warning shout came from the lookout set by the hired guards. Benjamin's men-at-arms immediately mobilized to fight, but the attackers had chosen their moment well, when the travelers were ill organized and unprepared for trouble.
Troops of armed men swept into the camp from both directions and the air was split by shattering war cries. The group coming from the west was led by a huge, burly knight whose surcoat bore the emblem of a blue boar.
Meriel froze, knowing that she had seen that device before. Yes, at the skirmish she'd seen near Lambourn Priory the day she had briefly met Adrian of Warfield. He and his men had battled the blue boar.
The air was cacophonous with swords and shouting men, plus the higher screams of women. Benjamin stood by the wagons, trying to calm his terrified household.
Pushing her way through the milling servants, Meriel yelled, "Master Benjamin, this is Guy of Burgoigne!"
"May God help us," he breathed. The old man scanned the fighting around him. His guards were fighting valiantly, but they were outnumbered and none of them had been able to mount their horses. Several were down and it was only a matter of time until all were defeated.
"There is no point in my men dying in vain," he said grimly. "Which is Guy of Burgoigne?"
Meriel pointed out the leader, whose smashing, bloody sword was the most devastating of all.
Benjamin said, "Give me your veil."
Meriel quickly pulled off the short white veil Sarah had lent her. Waving it over his head, Benjamin plunged into the melee with suicidal courage.
"Lord Guy, we surrender!" he shouted. "Stop the killing." Catching sight of his own captain, Benjamin added, "Give over, Edwin, there are too many of them."
As the message spread through the ranks, the shouting and clashing weapons diminished, then stopped. Benjamin's men were disarmed and herded into a sullen circle where they began examining and bandaging their wounded fellows.
Guy waited until all was secured, then dismounted and swaggered over to Benjamin, who stood slightly in front of his household, Aaron at his side. Meriel stood beside Sarah, whose grim calm helped steady her servants.
"So you are Benjamin l'Eveske," the earl said, removing his helm. As Meriel saw the broad, coarse face, she knew that this was the Earl of Shropshire that Alan had said was capable of anything. Even at his worst, Adrian of Warfield had never looked so brutal.
Guy stopped directly in front of Benjamin and jeered, "Why were you scurrying away like a rat when I had so kindly invited you to Shropshire?"
His voice calm, Benjamin said, "There was some confusion about the invitation." He nodded at the lean, dark-haired knight who had come to stand behind Guy. "Your man there must have forgotten who his lord was. He led me to believe that he served Adrian of Warfield."
"Vincent is a clever devil, isn't he? He brought you here, which is all that matters." The earl gestured at some of his men. "Search the wagons and bring all gold and jewels to me. And for Christ's sake, be careful with the household furnishings! They're valuable."
For the next half-hour, men-at-arms pawed through the wagons. While respecting the furnishings, they had no compunctions about humbler things like flour and other foodstuffs, which were thrown about with wanton delight in destruction.
One man found a group of books and pulled one out. From where she stood, Meriel saw that it was written in a strange script. With a crow of delight, the man sneered. "Heathens." He threw the book on the ground, fumbled with his chausses, then urinated on it.
There was a gasp of collective shock and revulsion from Benjamin's household. Even Meriel felt the sense of desecration, and Aaron took a step toward the offender before his father grabbed his upper arm with an iron grip.
"It is only parchment, Aaron, the true word of God cannot be tarnished by such as he," Benjamin said softly. In spite of his calming words, the old man's face was a mask of granite.
Guy of Burgoigne had been prowling avidly about the wagons, eager for loot, and now he arrived on the scene. Before any of the other books could receive similar treatment, he scowled and struck the man-at-arms on the side of the head. "You fool, don't you know what a book is worth, even a filthy Jewish one?"
The man-at-arms, a large man himself, staggered back from the blow, then wisely took himself off. At the end of the search, the clearing was strewn with lesser belongings, and a small pile of valuables had been set aside for the earl.
Disbelieving, Burgoigne poked through the loot, then strode over to Benjamin, brandishing a leather pouch. "Where is the rest of your treasure, you heathen bastard?" he roared. "Usurers are always wealthy, but there can't be more than five hundred silver marks here."
Quietly ironic, Benjamin replied, "My deepest regrets, my lord earl. I had not planned on being robbed."
Furious, the earl struck the old man with the full strength of his mailed fist. As Benjamin slumped to the ground, Aaron shouted with rage and launched himself at his father's attacker.
There was a blur of movement. A slim sixteen-year-old boy had no chance against a fully armed knight, and the earl effortlessly knocked Aaron from his feet.
As Sarah screamed in anguish, Guy set his sword at the boy's throat. The clearing throbbed with unbearable tension. "How dare you, you little heathen!" he snarled. "You've won the privilege of being the first to die."
Before he could drive the blade home, Meriel darted out of the group of servants and grabbed the earl's arm. "Don't, Lord Guy! Kill Benjamin's son and you will lose the ransom you might earn for him."
Startled, the earl looked up at her. "Ransoms are paid for battle captives, you witless wench, not for worthless Jews."
Her heart pounding with fear, Meriel struggled to find arguments that might save Sarah's son as well as the rest of them. "Come, my lord, surely you know that merchants do not carry all their gold around with them. Most of their fortunes are in goods and monies of account. If you spare Benjamin and his household, doubtless he can arrange to pay a ransom for their lives and freedom."
She glanced up and caught Sarah's eye. The older woman was ash-pale at the prospect of what might happen to her husband and son, but she nodded, confirming Meriel's guess.
Meriel turned back to the earl, having thought of another argument. "And remember, all Jews are under the king's protection, for they benefit the kingdom greatly. Stephen will not be pleased at another massacre of the Jews, even if it is by a man who has served him long and well."
Burgoigne pulled his sword back from Aaron's throat. He knew about monies of account as well as Meriel did, but he had been so sure of finding instant treasure that his failure had put him into a mindless rage. "This is the merchant's son? Aye, you're right, he's too valuable to spit like a roasting chicken."
Aaron scrambled to his feet, then helped his father rise. There was blood on the old man's face, but he didn't seem seriously injured.
Guy glared at Benjamin. "How much will you pay for your life, old man? Thirty thousand marks, perhaps?"
"For the lives of myself and all of my people—all of them—I would give my entire fortune, but it is not thirty thousand marks." Benjamin hesitated, calculating. "I could raise ten thousand quickly, perhaps another ten when my agents have had a chance to sell my property."
"Very well," Guy said brusquely. "When I receive ten thousand marks, I will release all your servants. After receiving the second ten thousand, you, your wife, and your son will also be set free."
While the bargain was being struck, Meriel saw that the lean dark-haired knight behind the earl was watching her avidly. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she faded back into the crowd of servants. With luck, she would be considered just another maid.
When she reached Sarah's side, the older woman took her hand and squeezed it. "God bl
ess you, child," she whispered. "If you had not thought quickly, Aaron would be dead now, and perhaps the rest of us as well."
"But your freedom will cost you and your family a lifetime's toil," Meriel said soberly.
Sarah shrugged. "What good is gold when one is dead? Our friends will see that we don't starve." Releasing Meriel's hand, she went to her husband and began wiping the blood from his cheek with the end of her long veil.
Guy was about to turn away from his prisoners when the dark-haired knight spoke up. "You've taken a prize richer than Benjamin l'Eveske, my lord!"
The knight pushed his way into the group of servants and grabbed Meriel's arm, then dragged her out to stand in front of the earl. His eyes glinting with triumph, he said, "This scrawny wench is Adrian of Warfield's wife."
Chapter 17
"Warfield's wife?" Guy said incredulously. He grabbed Meriel's chin and forced it up so he could look at her. "What would his countess be doing with a pack of Jews? This wench is just one of Benjamin's maids."
"Nay," Sir Vincent said, shaking his head. "I saw her and Warfield together in Shrewsbury shortly before the wedding, and I marked her well because I had trouble believing that he couldn't do better." He gestured toward the back of the wagons. "When we were searching, I noticed a pretty little sorrel mare and thought that it was exactly like the one Warfield's betrothed rode that day. Then I saw her, and knew. This is the Lady Meriel, all right. Ask her."
Guy's fingers tightened cruelly on Meriel's chin. "Speak up, woman. Are you really Warfield's bride?"
Meriel considered denial, but she was a terrible liar. If she did try to lie, they might torture Sarah or her family just to check whether she was telling the truth. "Yes," she said, her gaze steady. "I am Warfield's wife."
"So you are the one he married with no dowry and no family. Truly lust is a marvelous thing. Maybe your pious, thin-blooded husband likes the fact that you look more like a boy than a woman." Guy smiled nastily. "I wonder what he will pay to get you back."