Sin and Surrender (13 page)

He glanced at Juliana, her expression serene, even as her gaze watched constantly for attack. He knew she was glad to be a part of this mission, but the longer it went on, the more uneasy he became about her. His concern only upset her, but he could not help it. A part of him felt she’d been placed into his protection from the moment she’d been taken in by the League, and he’d failed once. He wouldn’t do so again.

Yet she thought she was protecting
him.

The manor house was small but elegant, made of local stone. The fields surrounding it were bursting with grain almost ready to be harvested, all against a back
drop of high, barren moors to the west. It was a peaceful country scene, but one that hid discontent.

A groom led their horses away, and the double front doors opened silently from within as if someone were waiting for them. They stepped into a great hall of several bays, each separated by its particular furniture—tables and benches for the dining area, cushioned chairs before the fire, cupboards and coffers and a massive table spread with parchment and account books. At the far end, two doors led into other chambers.

A man walked toward them from the hearth, dismissing with a nod the usher who’d opened the doors. He frowned at Timothy and Juliana. He was of middling height and stocky build, with unruly brown hair cut just below his chin.

“I said one guard,” the man said brusquely.

“And I brought one guard,” Paul answered cheerfully, throwing back his hood.

He knew his blond hair gleamed in the faint light from the window, and he saw the man studying it. Then those cold eyes looked to Juliana. She smiled with her usual sensuality, then sighed and looked about as if the hall held her attention more than the foolishness of men.

“If these two cannot be trusted, they could bring about your death,” the man said coldly.

Paul frowned in confusion. “We are talking about paying a debt, are we not?” he asked with exasperation.

“Let us not overly dramatize this. And the woman … she does as I tell her. I am Sir Paul. And who are you?”

“My name is not important. But you may treat me with the respect I’m due and call me ‘my lord.’”

Paul shook his head. “As you wish.” He rolled his eyes at Juliana.

The man briefly studied Timothy before addressing Paul. “Before you decide to seek me out again, I will have you know that this is not my home. You will never look for me—I or my masters will contact you.”

Paul spread his hands wide. “Whatever you say,
my lord.
Or shall I say ‘my creditor’?”

The man said nothing.

Paul stepped forward as if distancing himself from Timothy and Juliana, but spoke loudly enough for them to hear. “What reason do you have for buying my debts? Surely ‘tis none of your concern.”

The man still studied Paul. “‘Tis uncanny how much you resemble the Plantagenets.”

“You are not the first to say so. Have not they all been killed?” Paul frowned as if he thought the man was making no sense. “What does my handsome face have to do with the money I owe? I had been paying it back, but if you need it all now, you’ll have to be patient.”

“There is a way for you to repay the debt,” the man interrupted in a soft voice, “and earn more money than you can imagine spending.”

Paul glanced back at Juliana, shaking his head as if to say,
What kind of fool is this man?

“You have the demeanor and bearing we are looking for, and the mysterious background of a man who spent much time in Europe. In order to be free of your debt to me, we need you to imply you are other than you appear.”

Paul blinked at him, still wearing a half smile of confusion. “Other than I appear?” he echoed. “You want people to believe I’m someone else?”

“Aye, that is it.”

“And you want to cancel my debt—and pay me more beyond,” he continued in disbelief.

“If you do as you’re told.”

“Sounds entertaining,” he said, looking at Juliana to share his amusement.

She gave a pointed yawn and went to look out the window.

“‘Twill not be simply entertaining, but an assignment you agree to complete,” the man said coldly. “You will portray this man until we are finished with you.”

Paul widened his eyes. “And how long would that be?”

“I know not. But during this time, you will want for nothing, not money, not entertainment, not women.”

“I already happen to own the latter,” he said, then dropped his voice to a whisper that boomed. “Not that I’m averse to having more.”

“Paul!” Juliana cried.

He looked over his shoulder to see her stamping her foot.

“I am returning to York.” She headed for the door.

He followed, catching her arm. “Duckling, this is business. I am almost finished.”

“Nay, I’m leaving now!” She wrenched her arm free and glared at the stranger. “Send for my horse.”

“Oh, very well,” Paul said, scowling. Over his shoulder, he said, “I will think on your offer.”

“You are making a grave error,” the stranger said coldly. “I need your answer now, and you have no choice.”

Paul turned to him, walking backward toward the door as he said, “I always have a choice,
my lord.
I will send a man here with my response.”

“On the morrow.”

“If I make a decision by then.”

In the front courtyard, the horses were delivered promptly, but the threesome were almost near the walls of York before Timothy spoke.

“Well played, Paul. You showed him an ignorance of the situation, and an arrogance that they can use to their benefit. I imagine they will debate how ignorant you really are.”

Paul nodded. “I do as you’ve assigned. Did you doubt me?”

“Whatever you think of me, I’ve never doubted your skill, or your ability to follow the path to which you’ve committed yourself.”

“Gentlemen,” Juliana interrupted.

They both looked at her.

“We know his next move will be to threaten you, Paul, as a warning.”

“Or to threaten someone in my party,” Paul countered. He glanced at Timothy. “He could even attempt to kill one of us.”

“We’ll be prepared,” Juliana said with conviction.

The first strike was the killing of one of their pack-horses the next morning. The livery owner delivered the news of a slit throat, and his utter inability to explain how it had happened.

Angry at the senseless killing, Paul wished he could go out to the manor himself and tell the coward to try his tactics on a Bladesman and see what happened. But he played his part, pretending it didn’t matter. He and Juliana went out to amuse themselves on the town, but the merchants had been ordered to advance him no more credit. On his return to the inn, he discovered he would have to pay for the coming night, or take his entire party and be gone.

“Enough to frustrate Sir Paul the Dissolute,” Timothy said, using Paul’s name for his character.

The Bladesmen were all gathered together in Paul’s chamber at mid-afternoon.

“So do I send a message of acceptance,” Paul asked, “or go there myself in a flurry of indignation?”

“Send a message,” Timothy answered. “Agree to his terms, but say that at one sign of danger to your person, you will leave. After all, they’re deliberately keeping you in the dark until you’re trapped with no hope of escape.”

Paul scrawled the message of acceptance, then sent Joseph, with his pretty, unthreatening face, to deliver it. Although Joseph did not see the mysterious stranger at the manor, he received an immediate response, as if Paul’s capitulation had been a foregone conclusion. He returned with the message by supper—and Paul’s deadline to vacate the inn.

Paul read the message then looked around the chamber at the Bladesmen, all in various positions of standing or sitting. Like a queen, Juliana sat alone on the bed they would again share that night.

“We are to go to a tournament and festival at Castle Kilborn,” Paul said.

“An apt name,” Michael muttered to Theobald, whose half face remained impassive.

“Seat of the earl of Kilborn,” Timothy mused, rubbing his chin. “I’ve never heard word of antipathy toward the king attributed to him, but one never knows. Our man
with the Yorkists is in the household of Suffolk.”

“But ‘tis a tournament held at Kilborn’s castle,” Juliana said. “Perhaps ‘tis merely a place that all the Yorkshire noblemen will be gathering for an innocent celebration. The traitors might simply be taking advantage to gather together and plot. They want to control England—and they want revenge for the death of the earl of Lincoln.”

“Aye,” Paul said, glancing back at the missive. “And it seems we will discover the truth soon, for we’re to leave immediately.”

“But ‘tis after midday,” old Roger sputtered. “We’ll have to make camp. If we leave in the morn, we’d arrive by supper at the latest.”

Paul shrugged. “They seem to want us by midday. And I imagine the innkeeper will not allow us to remain another night.”

“Did they give you an identity to assume?” Juliana asked.

“I am to use Sir Paul as my name, giving no surname. They will contact me after I arrive.”

Juliana stood up. “Then I will pack.”

They were on the road north of York within the hour, a scurrier, Theobald, far in front, and another, Michael, lingering behind.

The peacefulness didn’t last. Michael quietly approached the remaining five near suppertime and said
they were being followed by a troop of ten men, who were taking pains to remain well back from the party of Bladesmen.

“An escort to be certain we do as we’ve been told?” Juliana asked.

“Or someone else, who’s suspicious of Paul’s identity,” Timothy countered. “They might be loyal Englishmen, defending a threat to King Henry. Either way, we will not kill unless we have to.”

“You constrain us much,” Paul murmured. “But I understand the reason. Surely we cannot wait to be attacked. If Juliana and I remain in character, it will be ten against five, and there will more likely be deaths on their side.”

“Then we should attack,” Juliana said suddenly. “And all seven of us can fight, if we disguise ourselves.”

“As what?” Paul asked, hiding his amusement at her eagerness.

“Highwaymen, of course. We will steal from them, but we won’t need to kill them. And they’ll never know their attackers.”

“I like it!” old Roger piped up from behind.

Timothy studied the road ahead, and Paul did the same. It curled between farm fields, sectioned by waist-high stone walls. But not a mile in the distance, the road began a slight climb into woodland.

“We will attack from there,” Timothy said.

Juliana nodded her satisfaction.

“Michael, return to your position and signal us as they approach.”

Michael nodded and reined in his horse, disappearing into a wooded copse to the east. With Timothy ahead of them, and Roger and Joseph just behind, Paul and Juliana rode side by side.

“If Theobald does not return in time,” Juliana said, “we will still prevail without him.”

“You know you must keep to your character,” Paul said in a low voice.

“Pardon me?” She frowned at him.

“You are my personal guard, but these men don’t know it. You’re a woman in their eyes.”

“They will not know I’m a woman. Even you did not a fortnight ago.” Then she regarded him closely. “Do you distract me from the tension of coming battle, Paul?”

“Perhaps I distract myself.” He glanced over his shoulder, but could see nothing in the distance.

“I have been trained as you have been—I have been trained by
you.”

“Not for long enough.”

“And whose fault was that?” She smiled as if to ease the sting.

“I have only one regret in life, Juliana, and leaving the League is not it.”

“Surely you will not leave me with such a mystery. Do we not all have regrets, Paul? And yet you can name only one? What was it?”

It wasn’t a secret. “Not being here to aid my brothers in avenging the murder of our parents.”

“Ah,” was all she said as she looked forward again. “So you owe a debt to the League, and here you are.”

“If you know that, then you know the League aided my brother Adam. I thought League missions were secret from uninvolved Bladesmen.”

“‘Twas hardly a secret among us that your brother kidnapped the daughter of the marquess of Martindale. We at the fortress were gathered together, ready to stop Adam from ruining his life.”

“Yet he was only doing what the League wouldn’t—challenging the marquess to combat.”

“You know that at first there was not enough proof that the marquess had your parents killed. And Adam was using an innocent woman to force the man into combat.”

“From what I hear, she wanted to help.”

“Not at first, when she didn’t know what kind of man your brother was.”

“She was instrumental in making her father admit the truth.”

“Aye, she was—along with the League. Hence, a debt you feel you owe.”

“Do you not wish
you
could avenge your parents?” Paul asked softly, watching her face.

She didn’t look at him. Were her regrets not as great as his?

“I do not think about my parents in that way,” she finally answered. “I cannot change the past, and I am happy in my present life. They would want that for me.” She smiled as if to lighten their tense exchange. “Perhaps ‘tis a male thing to want justice long after it can do any good.”

He shook his head and sighed. She was only saying that because she thought her father’s case hopeless.

When they reached the trees, they dismounted and disappeared within, leaving no tracks on the dirt road.

Juliana was in the lead, rummaging through the panniers on their newest packhorse until she found what she wanted. She held up a cloak with a look of satisfaction, removed a dagger from her boot, and began to slice the fabric into long strips.

Paul stood above her, hands on his hips, even as the other Bladesmen led their horses deeper between the trees.

Juliana grinned up at him, her teeth white in the gloom. “Scarves to hide our lower faces.”

“Our?”

She stood up to remove the fur-lined cloak she wore. “I will need a tunic and breeches. Michael is not much
bigger than I, but—” She frowned. “His clothing is in his saddlebags and he will not be here in time.”