Lion Heart
I looked around, wanting to sit up. We were on the road with people round us, though, and I didn’t dare, nudging the sheet up over my face again.
There hadn’t been overmuch in the way of food for the past few months, but I were growing hungry in true, and as the cart rolled on, I kept checking to see when we might be clear enough for me to speak. After more than an hour, we passed a fork in the road that left us traveling alone.
“David?” I called, tugging the sheet down. “David?”
I sat up, stretching my arms and back.
“David?” I called again, and a scream answered me instead.
I grabbed the sword and twisted round to see a man not David falling off the saddle. Chucking off the sheath, I jumped from the side of the cart, landing in the dirt with my worn, tattered boots, lunging for him.
“Christ on a cobnut!” he yelped, ducking behind the horse. “Lady thief, stop this madness!”
“Allan?” I cried, stopping. “What in God’s name is going on?”
He peered round the horse. “Good Lord, you’re even scary when you’re dead.”
“I’m not dead!” I shouted.
“Well, I didn’t know that before!” Allan shouted back.
“What did you do, Allan? Where’s David?”
“I only knocked him out,” Allan said. “He’ll be just fine.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked him. “I’ve been out of prison for bare hours. How did you find me so quick?”
His shoulders lifted. “I’ve been ordered by our fair sheriff to find you,” he told me. “And I found you. And I thought—I thought I’d found you too late,” he said, and for a moment he didn’t look his teasing, foolish self. He looked weary and sad. Then he stepped forward and hugged me, straight off my feet.
“Oof,” I grunted. “Allan—Allan, put me down.”
“Yes, lady thief. I just—” He stopped, looking up. “God is great and powerful and loves to mock mortals like—”
He never finished the sentence as David slammed into his body, bearing him to the ground. He raised a knife over Allan’s neck.
“No!” I yelled. “David, stop!”
David froze, looking at me, and Allan whimpered. “My lady, this man—”
“There has been a terrible misunderstanding,” I told him. “Please get up.”
David jumped off him, and Allan struggled to his feet as I caught sight of a gash on David’s head. “Allan!” I cried. “Did you do this?”
“The goddamn coward hit me with a rock,” David grunted, touching the wound.
Allan shrugged. “I don’t have a very strong punch.”
David glared at him, crossing his arms. He looked around. “My lady, we should get you off this road if you hope to remain dead.”
“You’re trying to be dead?” Allan asked, frowning. “I don’t understand.”
“Better dead than murdered,” I told him. “We need to get to the queen mother. Can you help us get to London?” I asked.
Allan puffed a little. “Of course I can. But I rather think we could move a little faster if you’re alive. If he looks a little less like a knight.”
“Fine,” I told him. “Then I need to wash. Have you lot seen a river or well or anything?” I asked.
“A river about a mile back,” David said.
I nodded. “Can you two find clothes and food, and I’ll meet you?”
“I won’t leave you alone, my lady,” David said. “He can go where he wishes, but I’ll come with you.”
I were still weak, and God knew there were more dangers for us to face, so I didn’t fight him. He came with me and waited a ways from the river while I stepped into the ice cold, rubbing blood and dirt from my skin. It snaked away from my body in muddy swirls in the clear water.
And then it were gone, and the river were clear, like such filth had never truly been.
CHAPTER
Allan did well. He got fresh clothes to dress me as a boy and traded the cart for two more horses. He’d procured food somehow, and David and I swallowed oranges and roasted cauliflower, salted pork, and fresh bread.
Allan watched me. “Are you sure we shouldn’t be going to Nottingham, my lady?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I have to see the queen first, Allan. Then—” At the thought of Rob, his eyes wrapping me up and tugging me in, a thrill shot through my heart so hard it hurt. I pressed my hand there, and Allan nodded sharp.
“Then I’ll get you to the queen,” he promised.
“We should go,” David said. “We’ll make London after nightfall as it is.”
I nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”
It weren’t long past midnight when we came upon the city; we’d heard bells on our way, chasing our horses with their low, dark sound, but the hours riding felt like years. It ached everywhere until every move felt like a blow. Seeing the queen—telling her what I’d heard—were the only thing that made me grip the saddle tighter.
Even when we made the city, I knew we had a while to go. Westminster Palace were farther along the Thames, away from the dirt and grime of London proper, and we had to make our way through London first.
I shut my eyes for a moment and near fell off my horse, clutching the saddle with shaking arms.
“We’ll be at the palace soon, my lady,” David promised me.
I drew a breath. Palace. Royals. “Christ—I didn’t even think—Prince John will be there,” I realized.
He shook his head. “No, my lady. The prince said he was riding north.”
A sigh chased out of me, and it seemed to take more of my strength with it. I nodded.
We slowed at the sight of Newgate, the tall city wall that had been made into a prison under Henry’s rule. It were fast becoming legend I’d been a thief, but I’d never ended up there myself.
“Who goes there?” called a man from the guardroom.
“We’re knights in the queen’s service,” David called. “And this boy is under her protection. We’re headed to Westminster.”
“You best go round the city,” he called.
David frowned. “That’s not possible. Why would we avoid the city?”
“There have been riots,” the guard said. “Closer to the White Tower and the river.”
“Not here, then,” David said.
“No.”
“Then let us pass. We don’t have time to spare,” he said.
“Eh,” the man grunted. “It’s your necks.”
I looked at David as the gate were raised slow.
“A knight,” Allan muttered. “As if I would ever be a knight. I’m far too handsome to be a knight.”
“Shut. Up,” David ground out. “If your mouth endangers my lady, I will extract it.”
“Always so angry.” Allan sighed.
They let us pass through and lowered the gate behind us.
The road were dark and empty, but every hair on my neck stood on end.
“Not far now, my lady,” David told me.
“Let’s hope it’s not the worst of the ride,” I returned.
We made our way toward the Strand, the road that led out to Westminster Palace. We’d bare made the road when a noise started to rise behind us.
We turned round, and I could see the glow of orange light seeping through the streets.
I frowned at David, and he looked grim. “Stay close to me, my lady.”
“Something’s happening,” I told him.
“Then we should hurry,” he insisted.
I nodded, spurring my horse.
Our horses started to gallop down the lane, and the crowd finally showed themselves from between the buildings. I looked back as they pushed into the lane. We were far enough ahead, and faster besides, that I didn’t need to worry.
Looking forward, I tightened my thighs on the horse, and they shook in response. My whole body trembled and shivered, too tired and weak by half. But after months in a prison, locked in a box and brought to my knees, I were free, and I
weren’t letting my own weakness stop me.
The road turned, and I thundered round the bend. It weren’t long until I saw the tall turrets of Westminster Palace in front of us. I stared at the flags, trying to see well enough to make sure the prince’s flag weren’t up there.
My head snapped forward when I heard David roar, “My lady! ”
He and Allan were stopped; there were a wall of guards with swords drawn, guarding the palace from the rioters. I pulled sharp on the reins, looking behind me to the growing noise of the crowd.
“Let us through!” David bellowed. “The queen mother is expecting us!”
“Desist or you will be run through!” a guard yelled back. “No one shall come near the palace tonight!”
I hesitated. It would be an easy thing to throw off my hat and raise my chin and tell them I were a princess, Richard’s daughter, Eleanor’s granddaughter. They would take me behind their swords and they would defend me.
But then Prince John would hear I lived, and he would change his plans, bend his mother’s ear, and make sure I were thought a liar for my words.
Before he found another way to see me dead.
“Follow me, my lady!” Allan shouted, pointing back at the road.
“Are you mad!” David roared.
“Ride fast to try and break through and go sharp right,” Allan said. “We have to get away from the rioters!”
I nodded, trembling in the saddle. I spurred my horse hard, David out in front of me and Allan somewhere behind.
We turned round the bend, and the rioters were closer than I thought. They’d separated for David, but now they were turned, looking at him, and not moving for me.
My horse reared and tried to stop at the same moment, twisting to the ground with an unearthly scream. He threw me off as he went down, and my legs landed bare shy of the horse’s back. People swept back from the horse, stepping on my body as I struggled to move away, off the road.
My sword were gone—I couldn’t even see where it went.
I got to my knees, and a body slammed into mine, sprawling me backward again.
Panicking now, I got to my knees again, desperate to stand, fearing the force of the crowd. I got one foot under me, and someone pulled me up.
“Hush, I have you,” a voice said in my ear.
My blood rushed over with dizzy relief. “Allan!” I cried.
“Hold on to me, lady thief. We need to get you out of here,” he told me.
I nodded, holding tight to his arm. I’d lost a boot, and the other one were tatters. I felt every rock in the road as we pushed against the tide of people, trying to find a way off.
We made it back to the heart of London, and Allan tugged me down an alleyway that weren’t half as crowded. He nodded me ahead, farther away from the mob.
“My lady!” David shouted, grabbing me as we pushed down into an alley that were open and dark.
“Lady?” someone growled, grabbing me round my waist.
I yelped as one arm held me tight and the other started patting and grabbing my clothes, looking for money or jewels or God only knew what else. Three other men set on David and Allan as the man pulled me off my feet.
I drew my legs up and let them drop, slamming my heel into the man’s kneecap. He howled and dropped me, and I whipped round to shove my elbow against his face.
He roared out a curse, covering his eye and wheeling back.
One man were bleeding on the ground and David dispatched a second. Allan slung a punch over the third with a little whimper. The man stumbled, and I jumped over him, running down the alley. Allan ran ahead with his long loping legs, leading the way. I followed behind him, and David followed behind me. I were the middle. The weak point—the one that needed defending. I’d always been one of the guards, not the guarded.
It weren’t far, now that we were away from the crush. Allan took us down closer to the river, to a tavern that bore the name Rose and Thorn, and I near collapsed against the door, heaving for breath. “It’s shut,” I told Allan.
He looked wounded, knocking twice, pausing, and knocking twice more on the door.
We waited several long moments.
The door opened a crack, and whoever were behind it saw Allan and opened it.
He nodded us in. I went first, and a young man led me into the tavern room. Windows that would look onto the street were boarded over, and there weren’t no fire in the hearth. There were a few candles on a table near the casks, and two other people at a table. They looked up at me.
One were a boy, and the other were a grizzled old man.
The one who led me in pointed to a bench. “Sit.”
I blinked at the sound of the voice. “You’re a girl,” I realized.
She looked at me like I were mad. “So are you.”
She turned away from me, going to the back, and I sat at the bench, feeling strange and put out of my own body.
David came and sat at the bench of another table, his back to the wall. It were a soldier’s choice. He could move from there, cover me, and fend off attackers, while still sitting closest to the door to defend an exit.
Allan didn’t sit. He paced, jumping to help the girl in men’s clothing with cups for us and a plate of bread. “My thanks, Kate,” he said.
She frowned at him as she passed us ale and the bread. I took a piece of the bread and handed the rest to David, and he took some and passed it to the others at the table. “You shouldn’t have brought her here,” Kate said to Allan.
This made the others look at me, and the bread went to ash in my mouth.
“Not here, Kate,” Allan warned.
“They can be trusted,” Kate snapped. “As much as I can, at least.”
Allan frowned.
My surprise must have shown. “I know who you are,” Kate told me, crossing her arms. “I’ve heard you’re a bastard royal,” she said to me. “And if King Richard’s dead, you can bet your head will start causing an awful lot of problems.”
“He’s not dead,” I told them. “That’s what the rioting is about?”
Kate nodded. “We heard he was killed in the Holy Land. And Prince John set off to murder the king’s nephew to replace him as the heir.”
I shook my head. “The king’s been captured. Ransomed.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know,” I told them. “But the man who told me had no reason to lie.”
Kate frowned. “Every man has a reason to lie.”
“Not when he were planning to murder me a moment later.”
This settled over the others, and the man and boy looked at each other.
“How did you find us?” David asked, looking at Allan. “You never said.”
“I told her,” Allan grumbled. “You were too busy knocking my block off.”
“Me!” David returned, but Allan weren’t paying him mind.
“We’ve all—we were told you were dead,” he said, looking at me.
I put the bread down. “We?” I repeated low.
“It wasn’t more than a week after you left Nottingham that our noble sheriff got a letter, telling him you’d been executed.” My chest squeezed. “He never believed it. Not once. But he sent me south to find the truth of the matter, and for all the people I know, I couldn’t find you. Rob said that if you were dead you’d be easy to find, but I never had the same faith. Until a few days ago, when I followed the prince to Bramber,” he said, looking up and crossing himself dramatic.
“And Rob—” I didn’t know what I wanted to ask. But the feel of his name on my mouth were painful.
“Doesn’t know, yet. I couldn’t write to him till I were sure. But he writes to you,” he told me. I frowned, confused, and he went to a satchel I hadn’t noticed, opening it and pulling out a small stack of papers, looped together with a ribbon. He came and handed them to me, and I reached out to touch them.
But my hands were filthy, bloody and dirty and cut, and I pulled back.
I looked up at Allan, and
to my horror, saw pity bright on his face.
“Come on,” Kate said. “You lot can’t go anywhere tonight. I’ll show you where you can wash up and sleep.”
“Thank you,” David said.
“Thank you,” I repeated.
She glared once at Allan and nodded her head back toward the kitchen. She led us out to a tiny little outdoor bit with a basin of water in it. “Beds are upstairs. If you want to wash, I’ll show him up,” she said to me.
I nodded, and she tossed me a cloth from the kitchen.
David glanced round, nodding once. “Would you rather I stay close, my lady?” he asked.
I shook my head.
Shutting the door behind them when they were gone, I pulled off the pants that I’d made quick work destroying, and I left the loose shirt on, pushing up my sleeves and using the cloth to clean off my skin and make a slow record of my wounds.
My shoulder were scraped and ragged from where I fell on it, with matching wounds on my hip. The soft inner bit of my other arm were cut where I’d been stepped on, but not bad. My hair were a matted mess, and I were thinner than I’d realized—I could feel my bones under my hands, sharp and raised under the thin layer of skin.
When I were done, I opened the door again, and Kate were there. “Here,” she said, handing me a pile of clothes. “Clean. It’s no lady’s dress.”
I took it. “Thank you,” I said.
She nodded once, looking me over before leading me back through the room and up a narrow stair. She showed me a little bedroom and I went over to it, staring at the bed.
She hung in the doorway, but after I didn’t move for long minutes, she started to turn. “Very well,” she said.
“Thank you,” I called. She stopped. “Thank you. It’s been—thank you.”
She looked at me, coming back to the doorway. “Where were you all this time?” she asked.
My shoulders lifted. “I don’t know. Different castles. Different prisons. He moved me often, and at night. I never knew.”
“Prince John,” she said, and her voice were low and dark.
I nodded. “You’re well informed, for an innkeep.”
She shook her head. “Inn’s my father’s,” she told me. “I’m a trader.”