Masques of Gold (31 page)

“You said FitzWalter likes you,” Lissa said, her voice sharpening slightly with anxiety. “Could he be giving you a warning?”

“There is a possibility that FitzWalter would do me a favor if it was no trouble to him, but what is it to me if some of the barons refuse to pay the scutage? I cannot see—” Justin stopped and stared into the dark at the foot of the bed. “No, wait. You have set my mind on a new path. Bless you, Lissa. I think I see where Mandeville was trying to lead me, but do I want to tread that path? And would it lead to good or ill?”

“What path?”

“I think it was Mandeville's intention that I carry to Stephen Langton FitzWalter's warning of the Poitevin barons' disaffection and the English barons' defiance.”

“Good God, what have you to do with the archbishop of Canterbury?” Lissa cried.

“I served him last year after he returned to England. Stephen Langton is no coward, but he had the example of Becket and Henry the Second. He wished to accomplish his purpose before he took any chance of being martyred by the son as Becket was by the father. I do not know how Langton's need came to Roger FitzAdam's ears, but the mayor had been seeking a way to be rid of me along with others my uncle had appointed.” Justin chuckled softly. “However, neither did he wish to offend my uncle's party, which had supported him as a compromise, so he offered me to Langton. I liked the archbishop and he me, but it was dull work leading his guardsmen. And before the end of the year he was certain there was no personal threat to him.”

“So Roger FitzAdam had you back again.”

Justin laughed aloud at that. “Ah, but by then he was glad to get me back. Even those who hated my uncle had had their fill of the man FitzAdam had put in my place. He let the lords' men-at-arms run riot more than once, not only in Southwark but in the Chepes as well, and once among the goldsmiths' shops. There were broken heads and looting. Yes, the mayor was glad to get me back, but he may be regretting it again now. I have refused him a favor or two and brought to public disgrace two of his supporters who were charging tolls for the use of a public well.” He laughed again suddenly. “Worse yet, it was not only FitzAdam I offended. Soon all will be glad to be rid of me. I sent three to the pillory: two were FitzAdam's men, but one belonged to our party.”

Though Justin himself scoffed, there no longer seemed anything strange to Lissa in an earl's brother seeking to use him as an intermediary with the highest churchman in England. Justin had fallen asleep, but she lay awake bitterly aware that all the great men turned to him because he was truly unstained by any selfish motive in his desire to serve London—not one party or the other, although he did not pretend to be above party, but the city itself came first of all to Justin. That he was involved with the mighty made her afraid as well as proud, and it was another reason her father must not be allowed to smirch Justin's honor. One rumor of weakness on his part, and they would all try to buy him. Then, likely as not, they would hate him and try to destroy him when they found he was not for sale.

Lissa spent half her time hoping and praying that she had seen the last of her father. After dreaming for weeks, however, she forced herself to face reality with the sick knowledge that he would never go off for good, leaving the profit from the business behind him. Sooner or later she would hear from him, and if she married Justin or allowed her affair with him to become public knowledge, her father would think he could commit any crime without fear of retribution. He would not believe her when she told him Justin would pursue him and expose him without regard for personal considerations.

But Lissa knew that being her father would not reduce by a hair the charges Justin would bring; it might increase them because of Justin's fear of showing favor. Likely as not their business would be ruined by the restrictions and fines levied; her father might even be cast out of the guild and she with him. And how would Justin bear such shame, he whose family had never endured whispers behind their backs and sidelong glances, especially if he was tied to her for life. Surely he would come to hate her sooner or later. She must avoid marriage or find a way to control her father. Lissa shuddered.

As March ended and April began, Lissa spent more and more of her time desperately seeking without success for some threat, some hold, she could use on her father. She had hoped to have Justin until William's return forced them apart, but now it seemed that she might lose her lover sooner. Justin was growing impatient with her reluctance to name a date for their wedding and more and more suspicious of her insistence that they conceal any relationship between them. Suitors had begun to appear; she had put them off with the excuse that she would consider no man until her father returned, but Justin had heard speculation about whom she might choose, and he was very angry and hurt that she would not name him as her chosen.

At the end of April he came very late one night, drunk again but on battle not on wine. His hauberk was splashed with dark stains, he stank of sweat and blood, and his eyes were glazed. Lissa caught her breath and asked if he was hurt and he said no. But he looked strangely at her as she held her candle high and close to examine him, and finally said, “Well?”

“You stink,” she replied, “and it is too late to get a bath for you. Come above with me and I will help you get that armor off. Then I will wash you as well as I can.”

“No,” he said, “this time I will go home. Halsig is waiting outside, and Hervi must clean my armor before the blood dries hard. I came because I—I wanted you to know, to see with your own eyes. First I thought I would clean myself before I came, but”—he licked his lips and went on in a rush as if afraid she might interrupt him—“when we are married I will have nowhere to go but my own house when I am stained with battle.” He took a deep, shaken breath. “Thank God you did not turn away.”

He reached out and touched her face, then uttered an oath and withdrew his hand. It was too late; Lissa's cheek was marked with blood. She did not flinch, just wrinkled her nose with distaste and asked if the fighting was over.

“Yes.”

“You are sure?”

Justin laughed tiredly. “Yes, at least my responsibility for it is ended. It started at Smithfield at dusk, just as the market was about to close, with two gentlemen claiming the same horse. It progressed to blows, to each fool calling his guardsmen, and spread as such things will, growing worse and worse in the dark until the Smithfield guards were overwhelmed and the entire watch was called out. The two gentlemen have been escorted out of London by different gates. If they wish to meet and kill each other elsewhere, I have not the smallest objection. As long as their quarrel takes place outside of London it is not my affair.”

Lissa sighed with relief. This was not a rising of the apprentices or journeymen, which could continue for days before they were all subdued. There would be no more fighting, so she would not insist he stay so that she could be with him every minute until the chance of losing him rose again.

“Come back in the morning,” she said. “I will have a bath ready for you by then, and I will be able to see to your bruises.”

“I am not hurt.”

She shook her head at him. “You will be black-and-blue by tomorrow. I will forfeit any prize you desire if you are not.”

“Will you—”

Justin stopped and laughed. He
would
be black-and-blue in the morning; he always was and was always surprised. And the forfeit he had been about to ask was stupid. Lissa would have agreed; she always agreed to marry him, but no date was ever set. He thought perhaps he was being unreasonable. He himself had said they should wait for her uncle Gamel, and his return could not be more than a week or two away—unless some ill had befallen ship or man—but Justin had expected that Lissa would begin to press for marriage long before Gamel came. And she had not. That made him uneasy. Except by them, Flael's death was long forgotten by now. Justin knew he was good value as a husband, and Lissa was too shrewd a businesswoman to overlook that. Why should she hesitate?

“You mean you will let me walk into your house in broad daylight?” he asked caustically.

“You will be a customer with bruises to be salved. Of course you will come in daylight. You know I do not take a client at night unless blood is flowing or it is death to wait.”

“Do you often salve your clients' bruises in a bath in your solar?”

Lissa smiled and shook her head. “You are very tired, my love, and hurt and sad. Were there some innocents who came to harm and lie heavy on your heart? I am very sorry, but I cannot let you quarrel with me now. Take off your armor and come to bed—just to sleep, or to rest if you cannot sleep. Tomorrow you can shout at me, and I will shout back, to your heart's content.”

He had to laugh at that, but said, “No, I cannot stay. I told you Halsig is waiting for me, and this armor must be cleaned.” He turned and opened the door and then turned back. “Lissa, I am very glad you did not shrink from me, bloody and stinking as I am. I thought perhaps for all your brave words you did not want a husband who did the work I do. But if that is not your reason for delay, I am lost. I will tell you true, I am growing tired of this hiding and I do not understand it. The days are growing longer, Lissa, the nights shorter. Think about that.”

Poor Lissa had been thinking about little else. Justin grew more irritable by the day as his time with her grew shorter and shorter. Just now he was still very busy as the town seemed to grumble and groan while it stretched to take in larger and larger numbers of merchants, some from other parts of the country, some foreign. It was as if the people of London forgot over each quiet sleepy winter where their profit came from and that in the spring they would have to accommodate the odd accents and odd manners of the outlanders.

As the first ships arrived and the earliest comers streamed in from river and road, there were endless fights. Most solved themselves so quickly the watch never saw, or quieted when the watch appeared; a number were serious enough for the watch to hustle the combatants to Justin's house, where tempers usually cooled rapidly under his frigid questioning and icy glare; a few became so dangerous Justin had to be summoned to the scene, where he appeared in mail on his destrier, followed by a well-armed troop.

At present Justin's days were filled, but Lissa knew that as the season wore on into summer some process always made the Londoners more hospitable. She never could fathom whether it was because their ability to be shocked by strangeness grew numb, whether the mounting profits in their strongboxes pacified them, whether the growing heat made them dull, or whether they simply began to enjoy the excitement of the overcrowded city. In any case, as the spring advanced, quarrels would grow fewer and less virulent so as the days grew longer Justin would find himself with little to do. Lissa trembled at the thought of him idling away long afternoons and evenings, imagining how his temper would be tried, especially if his ordinary amusements with his cousins were cut off so he could be at Lissa's house as soon as it was dark. And, to add worst to worse, Justin would be shorter and shorter of sleep as dark came long after Compline and the sky grew light by Lauds. For those who lay with beloved spouses, the long hours of half-light brought delight; for those who had to creep secretly in and out of a lover's house, the time was a torment.

Although he was angry and resentful, Justin had long practice in controlling his temper. He managed to avoid a really bitter quarrel, largely because he could see Lissa was truly worried about her uncle, until Gamel came finally, at the very end of May. No harm had befallen Gamel, however; he had heard of the war in France and had taken the opportunity of stopping at several ports along the coast to sell to merchants who had a new market in the massed nobility of the English army.

So far one success had followed another for the vassals of King John, and they were rich with loot. The king and his men had taken Miervant in a single assault on the sixteenth of May and had besieged Novent with such ferocity that it was yielded by the twenty-first. Thus Gamel succeeded so well in ridding himself of his cargo that he would not have come to England at all had he not wished to see his niece and deliver to her some special packets he had carried all the way from Egypt and the Arab cities of the Holy Land.

Justin outsmarted himself in dealing with Gamel. He succeeded too well in gaining the captain as an ally. Instead of getting Lissa to marry him, she accused him of treachery and nearly denied him entrance to her house. His ruse began innocently: Justin had arranged to have the arrival of Gamel's ship reported to him with the simple intention of rejoicing Lissa with this good news. But the report came just after Justin had dragged himself from her bed to his own, and a kind of fury at being held off from the settled life he so desperately desired made him throw on his clothes, rush down to the dock, and demand to speak to Master Gamel in person. Not that this led to a quarrel with Lissa's uncle; Gamel and Justin took a great liking to each other at once, despite Justin's high-bred Norman manners not being usually to Gamel's taste.

Justin liked Gamel both because Lissa loved him and because manner meant very little to him. His own behavior was the habit of his training, but he had long since given up judging men by the fact that their manners were different from his. Gamel's liking came partly because Justin's first words were such a pleasant surprise and relief—he had said in his simplest French, “Master Gamel, I am mad with love for your niece, Lissa Bowles. I have reason to believe she returns that love, and I would like your permission to marry her and your voice to support her in the making of the marriage settlements.”

Gamel, on first hearing that cold, authoritative voice asking to speak to him, had expected that he had fallen afoul of some new regulation, and he was delighted to discover instead a gentleman who valued Lissa almost as highly as he felt she deserved. He had invited Justin to sit and offered him a drink, apologizing for the condition of the ship after a long voyage, also in simple French, before he realized that Justin's asking
him
for permission to marry Lissa was most peculiar. His face then turned a very strange color, and he spoke in English in a roar that made even Justin wince, characterizing “that William” in terms that were both startling and original, for having refused his permission.