The Silent Songbird

  Evangeline and Westley stood as the woman motioned with her hand to a young woman. They both climbed the three steps to the stage. Then the woman faced the crowd and announced, “Maud Waldgrave of Caversdown shall be our first singer. Our four judges here in front of the stage shall decide which of our singers shall be crowned the winner of the Harvest Festival singing contest.”

  The older woman left the stage and the young woman began to sing.

  Westley and Evangeline stood in front of the stage. He kept hold of her hand, and she found herself completely unable to listen to the singer on the stage representing Caversdown village. All she could think about was Westley’s kiss . . .

  Suddenly the woman was motioning to Evangeline. Westley let go of her hand and nudged her forward. She hurried toward the woman and climbed the steps with her.

  “And now we have Eva . . .” She paused, waiting for her to supply her surname. When she did not, the woman continued. “Eva of Glynval.”

  Evangeline turned to face the meadow full of people, some of them looking up at her, some talking or otherwise not paying attention to her. But a small group of people in front of the stage seemed to be attentively waiting for her to sing.

  The woman left her all alone on the stage.

  Evangeline was surprised not to feel nervous. Instead, her mind and senses were still filled with Westley’s kiss. She closed her eyes for a moment.

  She opened her eyes and started to sing the song she had planned, a song she had sung several times already to Westley and his family. She concentrated on the words and the sound coming out of her mouth as the buoyancy lingered. She even smiled as she sang.

  When she finished the song, most of the people near the stage were smiling and clapping, while others all over the meadow had stopped to look at her. Some older people at the other end of the stage—perhaps they were the judges—put their heads together and were talking, nodding, and gesturing with their hands.

  Westley smiled broadly. She caught sight of Lady le Wyse standing farther out in the crowd, smiling much like her handsome son. Lord le Wyse was probably dealing with his new prisoners.

  Evangeline walked off the stage, practically skipping down the steps. Westley met her at the bottom. “You were wonderful.” He took her hand. “You sing more beautifully than a songbird.”

  “You are flattering me.”

  He drew her hand through the crook of his arm and walked her into the crowd.

  “My dear Eva!” Lady le Wyse was holding on to the hands of her two youngest children. “Your singing was the most beautiful! I cannot imagine anyone’s voice as lovely as yours.”

  Evangeline impulsively hugged Lady le Wyse. The woman embraced her in return as if it were the most natural thing.

  Later, after Lady le Wyse was occupied with talking to one of the other ladies who pulled Westley into the conversation, Evangeline suddenly had a thought. She turned to Westley. “Where is Sabina?”

  “Sabina?”

  “Yes. She was helping John Underhill. She taunted me after John’s men locked me in the dairy and told me that John Underhill had taken you.”

  Westley’s brow creased. “I don’t know where she is. We did not see her when we captured John and his men. But I will tell Father and our men to look out for her.”

  “She boasted about marrying John. And she told me that John blamed you and your father for his father’s death.”

  “His thinking is so warped. He isn’t remembering his father the way he actually was.” He stared past her shoulder, a dazed look in his eyes. “I suppose his father influenced him much more than I did, in the end.”

  Evangeline nodded. Who had influenced her? Muriel? The other servants and her early nursemaids? The priest at the castle, whom she had been inexplicably afraid of until a couple of years ago? She had no parents, and one of her nursemaids had abused her. What had that done to her thinking?

  But she had also read her Psalter until she memorized it. Surely God was guiding her through those psalms. Her thinking could not be all bad with those scriptures in her head.

  “I am sorry you lost a good friend, Westley.”

  “And I am sorry you were treated roughly by those vile men. I assure you, they shall be punished and will never hurt you again.”

  “I am safe now.” She drew closer to him, and he put his arms around her. “And you are safe, and that’s all that matters.”

  He kissed her temple.

  Suddenly everything quieted around them. The woman who had led her onto the stage to sing now stood on the stage again.

  “After hearing the five singers from each of the five villages who are participating in this festival, the judges have come to a decision. The winner of the singing contest is . . . Eva of Glynval.”

  The woman locked eyes with Evangeline and motioned for her to come up on the stage. The crowd parted for her as she made her way through. She kept hold of Westley’s hand. He helped her up the steps but left her to go onstage without him.

  Lady le Wyse presented her with a basket full of wares from the sellers at the festival, which included a scarf, candles, flowers, and several other items. Evangeline hugged her, and Lady le Wyse kissed her cheek.

  Sabina stood on the ground below her, scowling up at her with a contemptuous curl of her lip, hate glaring out from under her lowered brows.

  Evangeline smiled anyway, pretending not to see her as Lady le Wyse said, “You were wonderful. I’m very proud of you.”

  As Evangeline made her way back down the steps, Reeve Folsham approached Westley from behind with a grave look on his face. He leaned down and whispered near Westley’s ear. Westley’s smile disappeared, and she decided not to tell him just now that she had seen Sabina in the crowd.

  Evangeline hurried toward them. Had John Underhill escaped? “What is it? What has happened?”

  Reeve Folsham bowed to her. “Come and you will see.”

  Westley’s blue eyes seemed serious. He asked someone to take her basket to the house for her, and they both followed the reeve out of the crowd.

  They walked across the courtyard at the manor house to where a man stood watering his horse from a bucket. It was Frederick, the stable master, the man Muriel had said she was in love with.

  He looked up and saw Evangeline. He immediately bowed his head and sank to one knee.

  “Frederick.” Evangeline prayed no one else saw him do this.

  The steward and Lord le Wyse strode toward them, the lord’s expression harsh and angry. Evangeline’s heart sank. What would Lord le Wyse say when he learned that the king wanted her to marry the Earl of Shiveley? Or did he already know? Would he send her back with the stable master to prevent trouble from assailing his village?

  “Lord le Wyse,” Reeve Folsham said when they were all assembled. “This is Frederick, the stable master of Berkhamsted Castle. He has a message for us.”

  “Greetings, Lord le Wyse. Forgive me for interrupting your festival, but I came here to ask for your help, and also to warn you. Over a fortnight ago, the Earl of Shiveley accompanied King Richard on a visit to Berkhamsted. He planned to marry the king’s ward, Evangeline.” He glanced uncomfortably at her. “When she ran away with her companion, Muriel, whom you know as Mildred, the king and Lord Shiveley searched for them. Then a few days ago Muriel returned to the castle. Lord Shiveley tried to force her to tell where Evangeline was hiding. She told him Evangeline was dead but he did not believe her—and he threw her in the dungeon. He’s been torturing her ever since.”

  “What?” Evangeline’s hands clenched into fists. “Does the king know of this?”

  “No. I tried to get word to the king, but the earl intercepted the message. I left before he could capture me and came here.”

  Evangeline’s vision flitted and her face tingled as if she was about to faint. She held on to Westley’s arm.

  Frederick went on. “I believe the Earl of Shiveley planned to marry Evangeline, the granddaughter of King Edward, hoping he might so
meday claim the throne. And I have more bad news.” He paused a moment. “I saw two of Shiveley’s men. I’m afraid they may have followed me here. They were at the back of the crowd watching Evangeline sing.”

  Westley tightened his arm around her.

  “Where are these men now?” Lord le Wyse asked.

  “They left as soon as Evangeline finished singing.”

  “Reeve Folsham. Take some men and see if you can overtake them and capture them. But if you don’t see them within five minutes, come back. We’re going to need you.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Reeve Folsham left quickly.

  “Is Muriel all right?” Evangeline asked. “What has he done to her?”

  “She was not seriously injured when I left.” Pain filled Frederick’s eyes. “But they are increasing their abuse of her. Lord Shiveley would do anything to find out where you are.”

  “We must do something.” Evangeline looked desperately to Lord le Wyse as she squeezed Westley’s arm.

  Lord le Wyse gave her a quick nod, then turned back to Frederick. “Why do you believe he wishes to take the throne from King Richard?” He fixed the man with a hard gaze from his one eye.

  “He has been talking to the king’s knights, offering them more money and lands if they will promise loyalty to him. He has a lot of men out searching for Evangeline. Lord le Wyse, England and your king need your help.”

  O God, don’t let him hurt Muriel. Fury ignited into a full burn inside her. Energy surged through her limbs. Evangeline’s gaze moved to Lord le Wyse, then to Westley and the steward.

  “Father.” Westley’s jaw was rigid. “We must save Muriel, and we must warn the king. And we cannot allow Shiveley’s men to take Evangeline.”

  Lord le Wyse’s jaw twitched, his one eye fixed on his son with a fierce look. Finally, he said, “We will send word to my family and allies in the north.”

  “But it will take days to get word to them, then several more days for them to reach us.”

  “Then we must round up as many men as we can and go ourselves to rescue the king and Muriel.” Evangeline had not planned to speak, but the words flew out of her mouth anyway.

  They all stared at her.

  Frederick spoke first. “I would be terribly grateful if you did, Lord le Wyse.”

  “How many of Lord Shiveley’s men are at Berkhamsted Castle?” Lord le Wyse asked.

  “Only about twenty when I left.”

  “Twenty armed men trained to fight against however many of my men—mostly farmers—I can convince to go with me.”

  Evangeline seemed to lose all the breath from her lungs.

  “We can do it, Father.” Westley looked around the small circle. “We all know how to use a longbow.” He even glanced at Evangeline.

  Lord le Wyse was silent as they looked to him to speak next. Finally, he said, “Perhaps we could use stealth to sneak into the castle. I could go and speak to the king while the rest of you free Muriel.”

  “Yes,” Evangeline said as her breath returned to her. The other men nodded and mumbled their agreement as well.

  “But we must be as discreet as possible,” Lord le Wyse said. “Anyone you speak to about coming with us must agree to keep our plans quiet. No braggarts or loudmouths are to be told anything. I prefer you get young men without families. Once we have fifteen to twenty men, we will set out.”

  Lord le Wyse and Frederick moved away, talking and making plans. Evangeline turned to Westley. “I will come too.”

  “No, you will not.” His brows drew together. “You will stay here and keep out of sight. I’ll set some men to guard you, Mother, and the children at the castle.”

  “But I know how to fight.”

  “You have been through a few hours of learning how to defend yourself. You cannot fight soldiers and knights with weapons, men who have trained all their lives.”

  “I can use a longbow. I can help.”

  “No. You will stay here. Shiveley’s men are looking for you. If they were to capture you, all would be lost.”

  She slammed her fists on her hips and stomped her foot. “I am going. I can help save Muriel. It is my fault she is . . . is being tortured.” Her voice hitched at the thought.

  “Evangeline, this is madness.”

  “Perhaps it is best if she goes,” Frederick said. “The earl is after Evangeline. Perhaps we could offer her as a trade.”

  Her blood went cold.

  “Begging your pardon, Evangeline.” Frederick’s eyes were round and desperate. “We could rescue you after we’ve spoken to the king.”

  Westley gave Frederick a tight-lipped scowl. “Excuse us for a moment.” He grabbed Evangeline’s arm and pulled her a few feet away. “You see? It is too dangerous,” he said in a harsh whisper. “You heard what the man said.”

  “But you would protect me, and I can shoot a longbow and give you and the other men cover if you have to storm the castle.”

  “This is ridiculous.” Westley stared out over the courtyard, still keeping hold of her arm. “I know you are brave and very capable, but I cannot let you risk your life.” He expelled a harsh breath. “I have to go help round up men for this trip. But you are to stay here. Do you understand? Stay. Here.”

  She would never win this argument. Better to let him think she would be obedient. “Yes, Lord Westley.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “You should go help your father.”

  He sighed. “You know I only want you safe. That man over there would throw you into a pack of wolves to save Muriel and the king.”

  “He cares about Muriel.”

  “And I care about you.” He pursed his lips and looked away. “All the more reason—”

  “But I cannot bear to do nothing when Muriel is being tortured.”

  He reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I have to go.” But he didn’t leave. He kept staring at her face.

  Her thoughts were churning. She would not be left behind, not when it was her fault Muriel was in danger of being killed.

  Westley waved at someone over Evangeline’s shoulder. Nicola advanced toward them.

  “Take Eva to the castle and make sure she is safe,” he said to her. “Will you do that?”

  Nicola looked confused. “Of course.”

  He placed his hands on Evangeline’s shoulders. “You will understand later.” He stared into her eyes for a moment longer, kissed her quickly on the forehead, and ran off in the direction his father had gone.

  “Did he just kiss you? And why did he say you would understand later? Eva?”

  Evangeline took Nicola’s arm and turned her toward the castle. “Come. He’s watching us. Make him think we are obeying.” They started walking.

  Evangeline quickly told her the whole story. They entered the castle, which seemed empty except for one manservant who appeared to be guarding the front door, and were walking toward the back of the house when Evangeline whispered, “Can you help me find some men’s clothing? And I’ll need a longbow and arrows—and a horse.”

  “Oh, I just happen to have all those things stuffed under my bed.”

  “Nicola, this is serious.”

  “I realize that. But it won’t be easy to take those kinds of things without being caught.”

  “But you will help me, won’t you?”

  She stopped and looked at Evangeline. “You love Westley, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then perhaps you should stay here. He will be very angry with you when he sees you ignored his wishes. It might be wiser to do as he asked.”

  Was she right? Would it be wiser? She thought for a moment, her mind going over every possible scenario. She tried to think of herself staying hidden in the castle while they went to save Richard and Muriel.

  “He shouldn’t be angry. He knows I am no coward, and he would not wish me to be. Besides, he hasn’t exactly asked me to marry him. I don’t have to obey him.”

  “That is true.” Nicola ac
tually smiled. “Men are attracted to women with some courage and spirit.”

  “I truly know nothing about men. And I so want Westley to love me.” The admission made tears come to her eyes. “And yet I cannot stay here. Even if it means death to me, I must go and do what I can to save Muriel and Richard. But I don’t want Westley to hate me.”

  “Evangeline, you are the king’s ward, the daughter of the Duke of Clarence, and the granddaughter of King Edward. You can do anything you wish, and Westley would be a fool not to marry you at the first possible moment.”

  Her words made Evangeline’s heart flutter, not with joy or anticipation, but with fear. Would Westley want to marry her only because she was of royal blood?

  She did not have time to waste worrying about such things. She and Nicola hurried to find what Evangeline would need.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Westley rode at a brisk walk on his favorite horse, Gallagher. They’d been riding most of the day and only had an hour or two of daylight left, so they pressed on before they would be forced to stop.

  It had only taken them about three hours to round up twenty men, gather supplies and weapons, and start out. The road was hard packed and dusty, as they had had little rainfall for a few weeks. Trees lined most of the way, but occasionally they passed close enough to a village to see some fields, mostly empty, as the grain had already been harvested.

  Westley still was not sure who all the men with him were. He had been mostly riding and talking with his father and his friends, Robert, Piers, Aldred, and a few others. Finally, when the sun had set and it was completely dark, they halted.

  None of them had ridden so far in a long time, and some of them had never sat a horse for so many hours. Westley could see the suppressed groans on everyone’s faces as they dismounted, took out their blankets, and got ready to lie down to sleep.

  One of the men raised his voice. “Who are you?”

  Westley turned in time to see one of the larger men push the shoulder of a thinner one. “What is amiss there?”