Great Protector (45 page)

“She
couldna have hurt ye,” the boy sounded very much as if he was scolding Gavan.
“Ye didna have tae bloody her!”

By
this time, Arissa heard the commotion and exited the merchant’s stall to see
what was going on.  She saw Richmond and Gavan squaring off against a gang of
small children, the eldest of which could not have been more than ten or eleven
years old.  In the middle of the group, a little red-haired girl wept loudly.

“Richmond?”
Arissa positioned herself between Richmond and Gavan, her focus on the
suspicious children. “What is going on?”

Richmond
shook his head. “I am not quite sure,” he admitted casually. “But I believe we
are being threatened.”

Arissa’s
brow furrowed as she looked between Richmond and the children. “What happened?”

He
shrugged. “A child ran in to me,” he said. “You can hear her crying. When Gavan
tried to remove her, she fell and hit her knee on a rock. Now these children
think we have brutalized her.”

Arissa
looked at Gavan. “What did you do to her?”

Gavan
put up his hands as if he truly had no idea. “I did not do anything to her,” he
insisted. “She was on the ground so I pulled her up and directed her away from
Richmond.  And then she fell.”

Arissa
looked displeased. “Gavan, I have seen you when you go in defense of Richmond,”
she said. “Did you truly just direct her away? Or did you push her?”

Gavan
looked at Arissa as if insulted by the question.  Then he rolled his eyes and
stepped away, unwilling to get into a verbal battle with her. “I did not shove
her,” he said, walking away.

Arissa
scowled at the man before returning her attention to the children.  In truth, Richmond
did not seem to know how to react to a gang of youths accusing him of injuring
one of their own so he thought it best to say nothing.  He did not want to
start anything that might bring out the adults, or worse, other knights. He was
not looking for a fight in any case and did not want to waste his time.
Therefore, he focused on Arissa.

“If
you are thinking of making a purchase, go and make your selection,” he told
her. “We have a few more miles to travel before setting up camp and I do not
want to be setting up in the dark.”

Arissa
nodded, though she was still eyeing the children.  The boy who had defended the
little girl so stringently was still standing in front of the group, his fists
balled, as if preparing to do battle.  She focused on the young lad.

“Is
the little girl your sister?” she asked kindly.

The
boy looked at the lovely young woman who was not a whole lot bigger than he
was. He appeared confused by the question at first but eventually shook his
head. “No,” he said. “She dunna have a brother.”

Arissa
smiled at the lad. “You make a very good brother. You are very brave to protect
her.”

The
child scratched his head, looking at the group behind him as if his courage was
suddenly waning and he was looking to them for support.  Then he looked back at
Arissa.

“He
did
push her,” he insisted, though it was without force.

Arissa
nodded patiently. “If he did, I am sure he did not mean to,” she said. “I am
sorry if your friend was hurt.”

“Is
he yer husband, lady?”

Arissa
shook her head, pointing to Richmond instead. “He is.”

The
boy, and the children behind him, looked at the enormous man. “Does he beat ye,
then?” the boy asked, incredulous.

Arissa
laughed. “Of course not,” she said. “Why would he?”

“Because
he’s a big  ‘un.”

Arissa
was still smiling, shaking her head. “He’s very sweet and very kind,” she told
him. “Now, tell me; where are your parents?”

The
boy shrugged. “We dunna have ‘un,” he said, kicking at the dirt and glancing to
the group behind him. “We.... well, we take care o’ each other.”

Arissa
understood somewhat. “Which is why you defended the little girl.”

“Aye.”

At
this point, the little girl’s weeping could no longer be heard and the gaggle
of children began to disband.  It would seem that the crisis was over and they
were losing interest in what was going on.  As they started to wander away,
Arissa called out to them.

“Wait,”
she said.  “Please.... wait.”

The
boy, and most of the group, came to a halt.  Then she turned to Richmond. “Give
them a few coins,” she whispered.

He
was surprised by her request. “What?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard her
correctly. “A few coins....?”

Arissa
held out her hand to him. “Please,” she hissed. “Look at them, Richmond; they
are filthy and starving. Show them the same generosity you show me and give
them a few coins so they can at least buy something to eat.”

He
eyed her, displeased, but did as she asked.  Reaching in to his tunic, he
pulled forth his purse and plopped five coins into her palm.  Arissa went to
the boy with the matted blond hair and extended her hand.

“For
you,” she said. “Please buy something to eat for your friends.”

The
child took the coins from her, awed.  He stared at the pences in his palm as if
he could hardly believe what he was seeing.   Then, he grinned brightly,
displaying green and crooked teeth.

“Thanks,
lady!”

He
dashed off, calling to the children, and they all swarmed around him.  As he
excitedly showed off the coins he had been given and pointed back to Arissa and
Richmond, Arissa stood there and grinned.  Richmond came up behind her.

“Very
generous, my lady,” he said, winking at her when she turned to look at him.
“Now, if you do not mind, it is time to make your purchases so we can get out
of this town before I go broke.”

With
a giggle, Arissa turned back to the merchant stall and the amazing pre-made
surcoats.  Emma was standing just inside the stall, still holding on to the
blue
Perse
coat, having just watched the happenstance with the
children.   Arissa and Emma were just beginning to engage in conversation when
Richmond heard a shout.

He
turned to see Gavan heading towards him with something in his hand.  “Our
messenger has caught up to us,” Gavan told him as he approached. “We have a
reply from Henry.”

Richmond’s
attention was diverted from Arissa spending all of his money as he went to Gavan
and accepted a worn leather pouch that was sealed with an iron pin.

“That
was fast work,” Richmond replied as he opened the pouch. “From Lambourn to
London, and then to Whitby in less than two weeks.”

“Indeed.”

Richmond
dug into the pouch and pulled out the first of two missives stuck inside. “I
wonder what Henry has to say to all of this,” he muttered, eyeing the first
missive that had his name on it.  Then he pulled out the second and noted that
it was for his eyes only.  He put that one back in the pouch as he focused on
the first. “I can only hope he does not order us to turn around and head back
for London.”

“Why?”

“Because
it would not be very safe for Arissa there, not with all of the turmoil surrounding
the king right now, and I am not entirely sure how I could deny the king’s
orders without revealing our little secret,” he replied as he popped the wax
seal and unrolled the fine vellum.  His gaze digested the words for a few moments
before he started to read.

“Sir
Richmond le Bec

Dated
this tenth day of December, Year of Our Lord Fourteen Hundred and Two

Richmond,

We
have received your missive regarding the removal of your ward from Lambourn
Castle and We approve. Continue to Whitby Abbey with all due haste, whereupon
your ward shall begin her sentence with the sisterhood. When you have
accomplished this task, you will return to London with all due haste. We have
need of you.

Tasked
the Day of Days,

Your
Lord and Sovereign, Henry.....”

Richmond
looked up from the missive. “So we return to London once Arissa is charged to
Whitby,” he muttered, lowering the missive as he began to roll it up again. His
movements were slow and pensive. “It is as I had hoped.”

“You
do not seem pleased.”

Richmond
shrugged. “I do not suppose we could take another few weeks before I have to
leave her.”

Gavan
sighed faintly, glancing up at Arissa and Emma in the distance as they bartered
for the garments. “Nay,” he said quietly. “Richmond, I realize this is
difficult for you, but the sooner you leave her and attend Henry, the sooner
you can return for her. That is what you want most of all, is it not?”

Richmond
tucked the missive back in the pouch, noting the second one and remembering
that he was instructed to read it alone.

“It
is,” he nodded, though he was still feeling depressed. “I still do not like the
idea of leaving her with strangers. More than that, I do not want her to be
away from me.”

“It
is necessary for now. You know that. You and Henry have a great deal of
business to discuss and it is better to get it over with.”

Richmond
could only nod again. Then he pulled out the second smaller missive and
gestured to Gavan with it.

“Hurry
the women along,” he instructed. “Whatever they want, buy it for them. Let us
depart this berg sooner rather than later. I am eager to get the men settled in
for the night.”

Gavan
broke away from him and headed for Arissa and Emma, who saw him coming and
hastened to wind up their bartering.  Richmond watched for a moment as Gavan
came upon them and evidently told them to hurry, because he could hear Arissa
scolding him. 

With
a grin, Richmond broke the seal on the second missive and read the short note,
also from Henry.  This news was regarding Gavan’s wife and was far more
devastating, like a blow to his gut, and Richmond struggled quickly to recover.

He
made sure there were no tears in his eyes when Gavan returned with the women a
short time later.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Richmond’s
encampment had been set up about three miles north of Pickering in a vale of
trees with a large brook running through it, enough so that his men were able
to wash and cook with plenty of water.

In
spite of the fact that it was December in the north, the skies were remarkably
clear and the land fairly dry.  It was, however, very cold.  Richmond had his
men spread out and set up a perimeter, setting watch shifts and security, as several
of his men set up his tent and stoked two viziers into a nice, warm blaze. 

Arissa
and Emma had huddled around one of them while the tents went up, until Emma
grew bored and began to speak of the winter blooms she had seen.  She began to
speak of pomades and oils, pulling Arissa into her excitement, and soon the two
of them were out of the tent in search of the elusive winter blooms. That was
fairly normal behavior for Arissa. Unbeknownst to Richmond, they wandered away
from camp.

But
his clues came soon enough. Richmond heard a chorus of screams, faint and
muffled against the damp trees, and he knew without a doubt the screams came
from Arissa; he would know her voice anywhere. He had just located Gavan
amongst the soldiers and was preparing to deliver the contents of the second
missive when the air had been pierced by the unmistakable sounds of terror.
Deterred from his dreaded task, both he and Gavan had been jolted into action.

Within
seconds, the entire camp was a boiling cauldron of men and armor, determined to
seek out and protect the two women from the impending threat. The five soldiers
that had been left in charge of the young ladies' safety suddenly found
themselves stripped of their arms and corralled into a tight group. Guarded by
ten soldiers of Richmond's personal choosing, hope for a relatively painless
future was not guaranteed as Henry's most powerful knight discovered their
failings.

Richmond
and Gavan were already mounted, tearing into the thicket of trees to the south
of the wagon, the very last place the two ladies had been seen and assuming it
was a logical location to begin. But several feet into the undergrowth, it was
obvious the destriers could go no further in the heavy foliage. Dismounting,
swords were unsheathed as both knights and several dozen soldiers charged
headlong into the dense, wet leafage.

Heart
pounding, Richmond was not given ample time to work himself up into a good
panic; within moments, he found himself gazing upon a black and blond head from
where the ladies sat, perched on a large moldering rock. Beside them, a vaguely
familiar figure clad in rags sat happily and several feet away, a cluster of
children were hovered intently over a small fire.

Richmond
could see that the women weren't in any danger and his anxiety transformed into
simmering anger. Pushing through a bank of heavy brush that he practically tore
to shreds with his force and size, he jabbed an armor-clad finger at the two
figures on the rock.