Naked (23 page)

Ebur halted as if sensing my distress.

“Walk on.”

On the other side of the street, Tomas the tanner came toward us. The wave of hatred that emanated from him almost knocked me from Ebur’s saddle.

“So much for your promises!” he snarled as we passed.

“What can he mean?” I asked Aine, aghast.

With intense scrutiny she surveyed the street. “I don’t know.”

Aine appeared bewildered. Even she didn’t understand what was happening.

Suddenly I wished Acwell hadn’t ridden on. But the very idea I needed a Mercian guard in Coventry was appalling.

Inside my gloves my hands began to sweat. I yanked them off.

“All is not well here in Coventry,” Aine murmured. “Stay close.”

Stay close? In my beloved home?
I gripped Ebur’s reins. He picked up pace.

With relief I spotted Wilbert and Walburgha outside the hall gate. They nodded and then made to hurry past.

“Wilbert? Walburgha?”

Reluctance in every step, they stopped and slowly trudged back to me. Wilbert had his focus on the ground, as if the earth were about to sprout. Walburgha’s cheeks were mottled.

“What has happened?” With a thump I slid off Ebur’s back, stood holding the reins. “What’s the matter?”

Wilbert’s mumble was incoherent.

“Oh, Lady Godiva!” Walburgha burst out. “We cannot pay!”

“Pay what?”

“The taxes, my lady! We can’t pay!”

“Didn’t you understand me at our town meeting?” Why, there must have been a misunderstanding. That explained it. “There’s no tax due. I understand your troubles.”

“But, my lady, the new tax law!” Walburgha cried.

Mystified I stared from one to the other.

Wilbert glanced up. “Lord Leofric sent word from his sheriff, my lady. We’re to pay the same taxes as they pay in Mercia.”

“What?” Aghast I staggered against Ebur’s side, clutched his mane.

Leofric had done this? The information wouldn’t sink into my unwilling brain.

Coventry was my
morgengifu
. My sacred gift.

He’d promised me, consecrated the vow in the intimacy of our marriage bed.

Pledged with my body.

Against Ebur’s flank I swayed.

The street seemed to blur around me. My pulse thudded in my ears.

In Ebur’s dark iris I saw my distress reflected.

Against his rough coat I rested my cheek, matching my breathing to his until I could speak again.

“You say the tax has been raised.”

“That’s right, my lady.” Walburgha put her hands on her ample hips.

“The taxes in Mercia are much higher than Coventry’s have ever been.” Wilbert scratched his chin. “But Lord Leofric says we must pay the same as them in the north, bad harvest or no.”

“We’ll starve!” Walburgha tugged at my sleeve. “We’ll all starve if we have to pay it! We’ll never survive the hungry month!”

“We don’t know how we’ll find the money.” Wilbert pulled Walburgha away from me. Pride stiffened his spine. “We’ll try, for we have always paid our taxes in Coventry.”

“The people of Coventry have always been true in their tithes. My father never asked more than you could pay.”

“For so long we’ve had such a fine lord and lady, Lord Radulf and Lady Morwen, may their good souls rest in peace,” Walburgha wailed, crossing herself. “In some places, I’ve heard tell that families put their children into slavery to pay taxes. Children as young as seven, sent to work for taxes! To think that it would come to this in the Middle Lands!”

Children of the Middle Lands, slaves. My people, slaves.

And what harsh justice would have to be meted out by me if any thieving or wrongdoing occurred.

My sword. A limb. I shuddered.

Wilbert’s shoulders drooped. “I suppose things change.”

“Not in Coventry.”

Hope shone from their faces as they gazed at me.

“When my father died, I promised that justice would always be done here in Coventry. Am I not your lady? That hasn’t changed.”

“But the new law, Lord Leofric…” Walburgha objected.

As if I crushed wheat, I ground my teeth. “This new law will not stand.”

Wilbert appeared doubtful, his head on one side. “I hope you can talk to him, my lady.”

“No one will go hungry in Coventry,” I vowed, as fervent as if I stood in the church, the painted cross high above.
Suffer little children to come unto me
. My mother’s favorite Bible verse. In the name of my mother, in the name of Our Lady, in the name of the great mother of all, no child would suffer under my rule.

“Tell all in Coventry and the shire.” I mounted Ebur’s back. “Don’t be afraid. Trust me.”

“We’ve been so worried!” Walburgha broke in.

“There’s a lot of anger, my lady,” Wilbert said reluctantly.

“I’m sure of it.”

No one could be angrier than I.

*   *   *

In the hall Leofric sat behind the long table on the dais. He was alone except for two grey wolfhounds at his feet. As I approached, one gave a low growl.

No growling dog would stop me.

“How dare you!” I’d wondered what I would say when I saw Leofric. Now I knew.

The dog barked.

“Aeobald. Stay.” Leofric’s gaze roamed over me. Aine had commented on my pale face and the dark circles of fatigue smudged above my cheekbones. Once I’d wanted to appear beautiful for my husband, on the night we were wed, on the sweet
mead
-nights that followed. Now I cared not what he thought of my appearance.

“God’s greeting.” His tone was measured.

“God’s greeting! How dare you greet me in the name of God! Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you’ve done?”

Leofric stood up behind the table, his knuckles on the wood. I had forgotten how tall he was, how broad in his cloak. An oak tree, I’d thought him.

“You speak of the taxes.”

“Coventry’s tax, you have raised without my assent. How dare you demand money my people cannot pay!”

“I intended to speak to you on this when you returned. But who knew when that would be?”

His hypocrisy made me gasp. “You question my return when you’ve been gone to Mercia with no word? What reason can you have for raising the taxes?”

“There’s good reason, if you’ll listen to it.” A wolfhound at his side, he came around the table. He’d grown a beard, thick and tawny brown. It hid the strong line of his jaw, the line I’d begun to know so well. I fought down my instant yearning to run my fingers through it, to find that line again. There was weariness in his visage, too, deep tiredness brooding like heavy clouds above his cheekbones.

“The taxes for Coventry and Mercia must be the same.” His tone remained even, though his eyes held that dangerous spark, the heart of a flame. “Since our marriage, our lands are now joined. We can’t ask one part of our lands to pay more than the other. This is the only just way.”

“The taxes of Mercia are much more than my people have ever paid!” Tears smarted beneath my lids. I blinked them furiously away. “Your taxes are high because you’re trying to rebuild. But why should my people suffer! The hungry month is coming. They’ll be lucky to have enough to eat with the poor harvest we’ve had. And we have had to fight Thurkill.”

The dog barked again. Leofric seized its rope collar.

His hands clenched the dog’s rope before he released it. Tongue hung out, the dog stood by him, panting.

“You had to fight Thurkill?” Leofric blazed. “If Mercia hadn’t come to your aid you’d be at Thurkill’s mercy right now.”

“You’re no better. You’re plundering my land!”

The flame in his eyes turned to ice. “Have a care. You go too far.”

In the woods of Arden he’d told me what it had done to him, seeing his lands ravaged. He’d confided in me just once.

“Leofric, please.” Swiftly I changed strategy. “Our lands are joined. Don’t you remember the promise you made me? Coventry is my marriage gift.” I’d paid for it with my body. “You swore you would let me rule Coventry as I saw fit.”

“I swore that I would let you rule Coventry as long as it was for the greater good of the Saxons,” he shot back.

“Are my people not Saxons? Would you see them starve?”

“There are Saxons starving in Mercia. Or do you think only of yourself? Your land? What you want? Many more Saxons suffer in Mercia than here in the Middle Lands. My lands are much greater than yours, Lady. I must make laws that benefit all.”

“I am thinking of my people!”

“Not well enough.” Beside him the dog bared his teeth. “The only way forward is for Saxon lands to be strongholds, to regain their might. Do you not see the danger all around you? Would you prefer your people paid taxes to invaders instead of their Saxon chief? That’s what will happen if the Saxons don’t become mighty again.”

“Might! Power!” My body trembled with rage. “Is it all you think of? What about
good
? What about
justice
?”

He cursed. “I’ve experienced enough injustice to last a lifetime. I don’t make these laws lightly. They’re made to benefit all Saxons.”

“Your laws don’t benefit the Saxons of
Coventry
! Mercia and the Middle Lands are still separate lands, are they not? Or are we all called Mercia now?”

Flinging free my cloak I grabbed the hilt of my weapon. I’d traveled wearing my blade and breastplate to Evesham and back. I’d even had my blade with me in the monastery garden when I met Edmund at nightfall.

“You’re in my lands, my lord.”

Immediately Leofric’s gaze flew to my sword.

Straight and high, I drew it, singing. The gem on the hilt flashed its amber warning.

“Do you forget, Earl of Mercia? The hawk-eye is mine. Coventry doesn’t belong to you. Coventry belongs to me.”

“Coventry is yours.” He cursed again. “You want it one way, my lady, but not the other. You didn’t complain when Mercia came to the aid of the Middle Lands in your battle. But now the Middle Lands will not aid Mercia.”

“I didn’t ask you to come to our aid!”

“You accepted my offer of help and my offer of marriage. You didn’t turn me away.” Undeterred by my drawn sword he came so close I could see the sweat on his brow, though no fire was lit in the hall.

He moved so near I smelt the leather of him that had scented my sheets. “Nor did you turn me away from your bed.”

In my mind I slammed out the instant image of him, reaching for me in the gold morning light.

The sword shuddered in my fist.

Leofric seized it.

“You play at ruling your lands, Godiva.” He hurled the sword away, sending it clattering into the embers of the empty fireplace at the center of the hall. Clouds of ash swirled upward. “Don’t you realize you shouldn’t have stopped the taxes? You’re weakening the wealth of your lands. We have our own taxes to pay in turn, including the heregild to King Canute.”

“So Canute’s your master?” My question weighed with meaning.

“He’s our king.” Leofric didn’t respond to my bait. “The taxes must be found, or in the end your people won’t thank you for it.”

I bit my lip. On my journey home I’d been wondering if my father would have done the same as I had done. Even Brother Aefic, the good monk, had implied my father wouldn’t have been as lenient.

“They won’t be alive to thank me,” I replied uneasily.

“They can always find their taxes, if they try hard enough. That’s how it’s done in Mercia. It’s the only way to make a land strong.”

“Leofric.” Another deep breath. I had to stay calm. “I’ve been riding across the Middle Lands. If you could see what I’ve seen, the suffering that could come, you’d never be able to do this.”

“You’ve been riding across the Middle Lands?” His mouth twisted. “That’s what you’ve been doing while I was away?”

“Weren’t you informed? Hasn’t Acwell just made his report?” I asked sarcastically. “Forgive me if I visited as many of the villages and farms as I could. And now I have been to see the monks at Evesham.”

“You’ve been to see the monks,” he repeated in a mocking tone.

“Yes. Brother Aefic helped my parents many times, and gave them wise counsel. I went to ask him what to do.”

“That’s who you sought out, is it?”

“Yes.” Why did he sound as if he didn’t believe me?

Sweat chilled my skin. Had Acwell, my hound-guard, seen me with Edmund in the monastery garden? Did they guess at my suspicions?

“Godiva.” Leofric’s voice turned soft as summer leaves in Arden. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

I hesitated.

This was my chance.

This was the moment.

To tell him.

To trust him.

I opened my mouth.

Edmund’s warning tolled.

Be wary of Leofric!

The moment sped past, fast as an eagle wing.

“No.” I said. “There’s nothing I want to ask you, except to change your mind about the taxes.”

Leofric’s lids hooded. “I won’t change my mind. They must remain at the sum I have set.”

“Leofric! You must repeal this law!”

“I will not.” He wheeled around to face me. Even beneath his beard I could discern the set of his jaw.

We charge the care of Coventry to you, while we are gone.

My hands folded a prayer, my fingers beseeching.

“Please, Leofric, I beg you. Children will starve. Please.”

“Our lands must be kept safe for our own children.”

“You talk of our children now?” A bitter laugh escaped me. All the children in the Middle Lands were as my own. I was their lady, their loaf giver, their mother. Didn’t he, a Saxon lord, understand my sacred task?

He dragged me into his arms. “Do you seek to deny me my rights as your husband?”

Hard, his lips came down on mine, his beard scratching against my skin. Wrenching his arms around me he pulled me to him, his body as hard as his mouth.

My warrior mind fought him.

My traitor body loved him.

That’s what my lips told him, as my mouth opened against his, while with his tongue he searched inside as if for the words I would not say. That’s what my breasts told him, their arrow tips pointed through the linen of my tunic, aiming for the touch of his hands. That’s what my hips told him, ground against him, seeking the spear of him inside me. That’s what my legs told him, hardly able to stand.