Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 02 (22 page)

In defiance of Lecie’s wishes to keep silent, Winifred fisted her hand over her heart in a show of allegiance.

“Speak, Lady Lecie,” the justice ordered regaining Lecie’s attention. “Let us hear what you claim transpired before smiting down an unarmed man.”

“As you wish,” she replied.  Clasping her hands to still their trembling, she focused on a distant spot to retell her story. In a calm clear voice, she relived the moment where she walked in on Hamon about to smother Albin, his confession to having murdered her father and her consequent stabbing of him in order to stop him from killing her husband.

The crowd fell silent as they absorbed her words.

A slow clapping sound broke the stillness as the justice jeered, “Well told, my lady.” With a mock bow, he continued, “You should have been born a troubadour, so adept you are at creating a scene to cover your crime.”

“I spoke the truth,” Lecie called to the crowd. “Hamon murdered my father and was about to murder my husband. I did no less than any one of you would have done in the same situation.”

Murmurs of agreement raced through the crowd as Justice de Glanville once again took charge of the situation. “You claim your victim murdered your father?”

A cool breeze swirled around Lecie as she was about to reply. Closing her eyes, she felt her parents’ calming presence with a sense of wonder.

Determined to fight for her life, she met the justice’s unflinching gaze with her head held high. “I swear my life upon it.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” The justice chuckled harshly. “Where is the village physician?”

Dr. Rayburn stepped from the crowd without looking at Lecie. “I am here to serve you at your will, my lord justice.”

Turning to the man, Justice de Glanville pointed towards Lecie. “You heard this woman’s
story
?”

“I did indeed, my lord justice.”

“What say you about her father being murdered?” the justice pressed. “As I heard tell, he died of a lingering illness.”

“That he did, my lord justice.” Facing the crowd, Dr. Rayburn called, “Many of you are aware of the fact that Lecie of Rochester banned me from saving the life of her father. I attended his body after death and can attest there was no foul play involved.”

“It is no secret Lady Lecie is opposed to bloodletting,” a male voice Lecie recognized as Merek’s called. “It does naught else than make the body weaker.”

“Who dares say such a thing? Step forward,” Dr. Rayburn shouted. “Bloodletting drains the poisons from the body and purifies the soul.” Met by silence, his narrowed gaze skimmed over the crowd. “The accused may as well be answering to two murders this day, instead of one.”

Lecie gasped at the accusation as the crowd broke out into confused chatter.

“Good people of Rochester,” Justice de Glanville shouted to gain order. “Here is a man who has treated your ills, delivered your babes, and comforted your dying loved ones as they departed this world. Yet you doubt him?” Searching the front of the crowd, the justice pointed at a rotund blond balding man with a mustache and rotting teeth. “Alan of Rochester, stand and face the accused.”

Laboring to his feet, Alan grunted and clutched the underside of his ponderous belly as if in pain. “My lord justice?”  

“Do you recognize this woman?”

“I do, my lord justice,” Alan whined uneasily as his cold blue eyes moved no higher than Lecie’s skirts. “She is Lecie of The Wounded Stag.”

“And did you approach me at that very inn and tavern yesterday with information pertinent to this case?”

Shifting uneasily, Alan swallowed hard. “I did.”

“What was that information, Alan of Rochester?”

“I happened to be in the tavern when I overheard Lecie threaten the life of her father, my lord justice. I felt the need to confess it to you as I believe her to be a murderer.”

Murmurs raced through the crowd at this bit of scandalous news.

“Alan is naught but a deceitful liar,” an angry male voice called. “Everyone in Rochester and beyond knows he is not to be trusted.”

“Aye,” another called. “If he tells us the sun is shining, we prepare for rain.”

“Enough,” Justice de Glanville shouted. “He has no reason to be deceitful in this matter and you will hear him out.” Scanning the crowd for anyone who would defy him, he once again spoke to Alan. “What did you hear the accused say prior to her father’s death?”

Loudly clearing his throat, Alan spat a wad of phlegm into the dirt at his feet. Wiping his mouth with the back of his filthy hand, his gaze shifted uneasily to the justice. “I was sitting in the common room when Lecie came from the kitchen. I heard her say she was going to put an end to her father’s suffering.”

“Aye, it is true,” Lecie called as the crowd erupted into shouted denials. “I said it as I carried medicine given to me by Baron Erlegh’s lady wife in order to ease my father’s pain.”

“So the village liar speaks a single truth and it is twisted into something else entirely,” a male voice called. “He seeks attention like always, naught else.”

“Be that as it may, my good people.” Dr. Rayburn waited until the chatter died down before he continued speaking. “I pleaded with the accused to allow me to treat her father and she refused. He is now dead.” Casting a contemptuous gaze at Lecie, he once again faced the crowd. “She has also just recently questioned my treatment of her husband who, as I speak, lays dying in yonder inn. Aye, good people,” he called louder. “Lecie of Rochester stands accused of one murder, yet she should be held accountable for two, mayhap even three afore long”

“
Lady
Lecie.” Lecie broke the stunned silence. “And my husband will not die.”

“Silence,
you
,” Justice de Glanville sprayed spit as he turned to her. “You have had your chance to speak.”

“If you would lay such false accusations at my feet, I would have you address me properly, my lord justice.”

“This is a travesty,” a soft voice spoke above the rising din of the crowd.

Stunned intakes of breath from her family preceded Justice de Glanville’s surprised expression as he turned to respond to Mylla. “I beg your pardon?”

People craned their necks trying to see the slight woman who dared confront the king’s itinerant justice. Her light blonde waist-length locks stirring in the gentle breeze, Mylla opened her mouth to repeat her belief.

“My lord justice,” Lecie spoke up to protect her friend. “If you have finished presenting the evidence against me I would hear my sentence.”

Silence reigned as the crowd waited for Justice de Glanville to speak. Appraising Mylla, he darted a cold glance at Lecie before addressing the sheriff. “I would suggest you remove your daughter from these proceedings. It has become apparent to me her fondness for the accused has clouded her sound judgment.”

“Aye, my lord justice.” Sheriff Richard stepped forward. “I shall have one of my sons escort Mylla and her mother home.”

With a look brooking no disobedience, the sheriff presented his arm to Mylla. “Come, daughter.”

Accepting his arm, tears filled Mylla’s blue eyes as she faced Lecie. “God be with you and grant you peace, my dearest friend.”

Lecie brushed at the tears on her own cheeks as she smiled. “Live a blessed life for me, Mylla.”

Breaking into sobs, Mylla wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist as Caine escorted the pair away.  

His eyes following Mylla’s progress, Justice de Glanville called, “You heard the accused. She wishes for the proceedings to be at an end before more evidence can be brought against her.” Scanning the crowd, his eyes dared anyone to defy him. “What say you, good people of Rochester? Are you ready to hear the king’s justice brought against this woman?”

The crowd remained silent, aiming looks of disapproval towards the justice as he waited for a response.

“Condemn her,” Gunilda shouted. “She is in league with the devil and deserves to die for what she did to my Hamon.”

“My lord justice,” Dr. Rayburn called. “We are prepared to hear your verdict.”

“Very well.” Justice de Glanville dipped his head. “The good people of Rochester have spoken.” Turning to face Lecie, he stared coldly up at her. “Lady Lecie of Rochester, the evidence has spoken of your guilt. For your willful murder in opposition to King Henry’s law of the land, I find you guilty.” After a lengthy pause, he smiled. “In King Henry’s name, I sentence you to death by hanging, to be carried out post-haste.”

Albin felt pinned beneath the weight of his chainmail and armor. No, it was heavier than that. Had his horse pinned him to the ground? He felt suffocated as he weakly fought to drag air into his burning lungs. He had to rise. Fulke may have need of his sword arm. Struggling to lift the weight off him, he sought to remember what battle it was they were fighting. He focused on the soft neigh of his horse to remain conscious, only it was not a horse he was hearing. It was the whine of a dog. Tugger.

“Lecie,” he managed in the barest of whispers.

“Saints be praised,” Betta murmured. “Sir Albin, can you hear me?”

His throat parched, Albin could not work up enough saliva to speak. Moving his lips, he prayed for ale.

The moment he felt cool liquid slide between his dry and cracked lips, he worked his throat to swallow. “Lecie.”

Holding the cup of ale, Betta slid her arm behind Albin’s head to prop him up to take more. “She is not here.”

His eyes opening to slits, something in Betta’s voice had his heart pounding. “Where?”

Searching around as if looking for a means of escape, Albin used his remaining strength to command, “Tell me where.”

Tears filled Betta’s eyes as responded, “Lecie stands accused of murdering Hamon. They are holding a trial in the square as we speak.”

Rage filled every fiber of Albin’s being as adrenaline had him rolling to the edge of the bed. “Sheriff Richard is a fool.”

“It is not he, Sir Albin. The king’s itinerant justice is here. He is seeking to take Lecie’s life for the slight against his friend, Baron Reynold.”

“Summon the men, I need assist.”

“The men are all gone, only Joseph remains behind.”

“Get him.”

Betta rushed out as Albin swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Rolling into a sitting position, he fought to stay conscious as the room spun around him.

He heard a commotion at the door and struggled to focus on the whirling figures entering his chamber.

Lady Reina, followed by a woman unknown to him with long dark hair and silver eyes, rushed over to him.

Resisting their attempts to push him back on the bed, he gripped Reina’s hand. “Where is Fulke? My Lecie is in danger.”

“I am Bronwyn, Sir Albin.” Slipping around the other side of the bed, the woman he was not acquainted with spoke as Lady Reina motioned for Albin to lay back. “Fulke is with my husband and Sir Talan headed for the square.”             

Easing back onto the pillows, Albin blinked against the dark spots clouding his vision. “Bronwyn, my lady, I beg of you to save my wife.”

The last thing he remembered was the soft touch of Lady Reina’s hand on his forehead as Bronwyn responded, “We plan on saving you both.”

* * *

Searching over the group of men standing off to the side of the wagon, Justice de Glanville called, “Executioner, attend your duty.”

“There shall be a higher reckoning for the injustice done this day, my lord justice,” Winifred called.

His face a mottled red, Justice de Glanville whirled to search for the speaker as the crowd began to shout in one accord.

“Question the woman Harsent, my lord justice,” Merek called. “I have no doubt her story will change.”

“Who said that?” Justice de Glanville shouted. “I command you to step forward.”

“You are not the king,” another anonymous speaker called from the crowd. “I say Lady Lecie is innocent.”

“As do I,” another called followed by more shouts of innocence.

“I will have silence.” Justice de Glanville raked the crowd with his eyes. “As chief itinerant justice of this land, in the absence of King Henry my word is his. Dare to oppose my command and I shall have each and every one of you strung up beside the convicted.”

Silence fell as the crowd expressed their opinions with looks of anger and disbelief.

“Executioner, you may proceed,” Justice de Glanville called ignoring the hostility of the crowd. 

Winifred’s soft sobbing was the only thing heard as Lecie waited for the hooded executioner to climb into the cart beside her.

Tying her hands behind her back, the executioner leaned close. “I beg your forgiveness for this lawless deed, Lady Lecie.”

Recognizing the voice behind the hood as a local she had known all her life, Lecie managed a tremulous smile. “My forgiveness is not needed, yet granted to you, Walter.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Slipping the noose over her head, Walter gently adjusted the knot at the back of her neck. “God be with you.”

Jumping down from the back of the cart, Walter moved to stand beside the mules. “I await your command, my lord
justice
.”

Justice de Glanville frowned at his insolent tone yet moved to stand directly before Lecie. “Have you any last words, Lecie of Rochester?”

“I do.” Lecie cleared her throat when her voice broke. Her eyes on the back of Winifred as she huddled into Merek’s chest, she called, “I am innocent of the charges laid against me this day. I ask only that you pray for the health of my beloved husband. If it is God’s will that he should follow me in death, I ask you all to look after my younger sisters and brother. I would not have this travesty be held against them.” Redirecting her gaze to Justice de Glanville, she inhaled deeply. “Seek your revenge, my lord justice. I am prepared to die with the knowledge that you yourself will be found guilty one day.”

Narrowing his eyes, he waved to Walter. “Pro—”

“Hold,” the shout came from a trio of riders galloping into the square. Villagers scrambled out of the way of the mighty destriers’ hooves as they churned up clods of soil on their way past. “What madness is this?”

“Baron Erlegh,” the murmur raced through the crowd as all eyes turned to the blond giant on the black destrier leading two other imposing men.

Startled by the commotion, the mules hitched to the cart began to move forward.

Fighting panic, Lecie fought to balance herself as the cart slowly slipped from beneath her feet.

“Talan, cut her down,” Fulke instructed as he reined up at the base of the slope.

“It would be my pleasure.”  Whisking his sword from its sheath, Talan eased his horse beside the cart to slice through the thick rope above Lecie’s neck. Reaching for her, he guided her knee around the pommel of his saddle to seat her firmly before him. “Are you all right, Lady Lecie?”

Lecie collapsed against Talan’s chest sobbing uncontrollably as he untied her hands and removed the noose from around her neck.

“You are safe now,” he soothed. Holding her against his chest, he spurred his horse around to join Fulke and the stranger at the bottom of the rise. “She is frightened yet otherwise unharmed, my liege.”

“Baron Erlegh,” Justice de Glanville sneered. “You are defying a command given in the name of our king.”

Sizing up the justice, Fulke’s piercing blue eyes turned glacial. “Owing to the fact that I am well acquainted with our king, I have no doubt he will afford me a delay.”

“You are no longer his favorite,” Justice de Glanville replied. “Last I heard you were banished from court, or have you forgotten?”

“What you speak may be true,” Fulke agreed. “Nonetheless, I saved the king’s life on the battlefield and I would wager it is something he shall not soon forget.”

“The woman has been given a fair trial and found guilty of murder.” Justice de Glanville refused to back down. “The penalty has been meted out and wife of your man or not, even you cannot gainsay the king’s justice.”

“It was not a fair trial, your lordship,” Winifred shouted from the crowd. “I beg you to hear the evidence and judge for yourself.”

“Aye,” another called. “Lady Lecie is innocent. This is a travesty of the king’s law.”

Cocking a chiseled brow at the chief justice, Fulke dismounted. “You heard the people, let me hear the condemning evidence for myself.”

“I have already made my decision,” Justice de Glanville spat. “And the king shall hear of your interference in this matter.”

“Very well,” Fulke replied lightly. “While reporting to him, please remind him of your close association with his least favorite baron.” Pinning de Glanville with his gaze, Fulke smiled. “Oh, forgive me. Reynold is no longer a baron or possessor of lands, or so I have heard.”

“This has nothing to do with him.” Justice de Glanville swallowed hard. “I have disassociated myself from Reynold.”

“So you say.” Fulke shrugged. “After hearing what has transpired this day, I think it is something I shall let the king decide for himself.”

His sunken chest heaving, Justice de Glanville waved a hand in Lecie’s direction. “By all means feel free to proceed. I have no doubt the verdict will stand.”

“Thank you,” Fulke replied with a grin. “And as to the verdict, we shall see.” Assisting Lecie from Talan’s horse, he spoke for her ears alone. “I would have liked to extend my congratulations on your recent nuptials under different circumstances, my lady. However, things being what they are, I would like to wish you a long and blessed life with my dearest friend.”

“Thank you, your lordship. I pray that it may be so.” Lecie managed in a tremulous voice. “Has her ladyship Reina traveled with you to assist my husband?”

“She and even one more skilled than she are tending to him now,” Fulke reassured her. “Let us clear up this matter so that we may join them, shall we?”

“I would like that above all else.” Relieved Albin was in capable hands, Lecie regained her confidence.

Fulke called for drink as he waved Harsent and Gunilda off the bench they shared with a flick of his hand. Carrying the bench to the rise, he motioned for Lecie to have a seat as a villager handed her a cup of ale.

After she took several swallows to quench her thirst, Fulke moved to sit beside her. “Now then, why do not you start at the beginning and tell us once again what happened to bring you to this unfortunate circumstance?”

Emboldened by his reassuring smile, she faced the crowd to speak in a carrying voice. “It is as I have stated before. Our dog Tugger alerted me to the fact that something was wrong in the master chamber. When I opened the door, I saw Hamon standing over my husband with a pillow.” Tears slid from her eyes and she blinked them away. “It was at that moment, I realized the pillow I found on the floor in my Da’s room the day he died was also used by Hamon to end his life prematurely.”

“What happened next?” Fulke gently coaxed when she hesitated.

“After admitting to my father’s murder, Hamon attempted to smother my husband. I sicced Tugger on him and he attacked Hamon’s leg in an attempt to pull him away from my husband.” Lecie fell silent a moment, reliving the terrible moment. “It was then that Hamon repeatedly struck Tugger’s snout with a cup until he collapsed. I thought Hamon had killed him too.”

“It is all right, Lecie,” Fulke spoke low. “You are doing fine.” Addressing the crowd, he called, “Someone needs to fetch the dog from the inn.”

“Whyever for?” Justice de Glanville spoke from beside Sheriff Richard. “Do you plan on questioning the animal, Baron Erlegh?”

Gunilda laughed until someone from the crowd ordered her to keep quiet.

“So we can verify Lady Lecie’s account, my lord justice,” Fulke responded brusquely. “Surely I do not have to tell you that if a dog were struck with such brutal force, it would still bear some sign of the assault upon it?”

“I shall fetch the dog and return with all haste, your lordship,” Merek called, already making his way through the crowd.

His gaze still boring into Justice de Glanville, Fulke raised a hand in acknowledgement.

“Carry on, your lordship,” Sheriff Richard spoke when Justice de Glanville remained silent.

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Turning back to Lecie he continued, “Who was in charge of cleaning the chamber, Lecie?”

“It was I, your lordship,” Winifred called from the crowd as she weaved her way to the front. “I am Winifred and I recently started work at the inn. It was my husband who departed to retrieve the dog.”

“You.” Recognizing Winifred’s voice, Justice de Glanville lunged to his feet. “Your impertinence during these proceedings shall be addressed.”

Calmly meeting his gaze, Winifred dipped into a curtsy. “Whatever pleases you, my lord justice.”

“With all due respect, my lord justice,” Fulke redirected the conversation. “I am now in charge of these proceedings and any witness I call has the full immunity of the court. Bearing that in mind, I would ask that you remain seated and silent unless otherwise called upon.”

The crowd murmured their approval as Fulke addressed Winifred. “Did you happen to remove a cup from the floor of the master chamber?”

“I did indeed, your lordship,” Winifred responded. “It was broken into several pieces just as my lady Lecie stated.”

“Did you also happen to see the dog after this incident?”

“No, I did not.” Winifred lowered her eyes. “There was quite a mess to clean up and Master Clayton had already taken charge of the dog.”

“Thank you, Winfred. You may return to your place.”