The Greenwood Shadow (11 page)

"How do you know that?"

"Well..." She didn't know how to prove her point without giving away too much.

"The king wouldn't order someone captured unless they were dangerous," he said.

He sounded like he really believed it, which struck the wrong nerve with Evey.

"Yeah? And how do you know that?"

"Evelyne, really! Are you questioning the king's honor?"

"What?" She folded her arms and assumed a falsely innocent grin. "Are you going to go turn me in? Come on, Emeric. You of all people ought to know that the king is nothing more than a leech. He doesn't even treat lords fairly. Can you imagine how the common people live? Have you ever bothered to look?"

"Don't lecture me." His face got as serious as Evey had ever seen it. "I know that things are rough, but you can't go slandering the king. He became king for a reason, and he'll take care of us."

Evey rolled her eyes as melodramatically as she could. "Sure, he'll take care of us. After all, he can't sit around getting fat on his throne if he actually has to work for his gold. And he was born royal. What kind of 'for a reason' is that?"

"EVELYNE! I will not have treasonous talk in my house!"

"It's my house, actually," she muttered. "You just run it because girls aren't good enough."

She pulled the curtain shut and turned her back to it.

"That's how things are." Emeric opened it again, but she didn't look at him. "I didn't make it that way. I don't always know what it is, but there is a reason behind everything."

"HA! Always trusting the establishment, even when you get swindled into poverty by it."

In a patient, calm tone he asked, "What else do I have to trust in?"

Evey shrugged.

"You can't just change the system on a whim," he said.

"I know that."

"There are channels and methods."

"Yeah, and sometimes those don't work anymore." After a pause, she added, "people have a right to live without starving every day. They have a right to survive. When the system doesn't allow that, it's got to change."

"That is what the king–"

"He doesn't care!!" she shouted. "He doesn't! It doesn't matter what happens to the rabble, as long as he gets his gold! The proper channels are dead!"

She shut the curtain again and almost tore it from the rings in the process.

From behind the barrier, Emeric gasped. "You sound so revolutionary. Evelyne, tell me you're not involved in any plots against the king?"

"Of course I'm not," she replied despondently. "Let's be honest, what could I ever do?"

It was a while before either of them spoke. Evey wasn't even sure that Emeric was still in the room, until he slowly slid her curtain open and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe we're both right, just in different ways. Sometimes I think you're a lot wiser than I am."

"Ha."

"Knowing a lot and being wise aren't the same thing."

Evey had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so she changed the subject.

"What about this whole wedding thing?" she said awkwardly.

"You're not thinking of backing out?" he asked, equally awkward.

She glanced up at her uncle. "As much as I'd like to, no. I just want to know what's happening."

"Ah." He sat down on the bench beside the window. "Well, I can't tell you much. Sir Robert has taken the entire affair up as a personal project. I can't really complain because he's also paying for it."

"Lovely. Just watch, he's going to invite the entire kingdom."

"I hope not."

He was about to elaborate when a scream from the window drew their attention.

Near the open gate were two figures. One was small and curled close to the ground. The other was a large, armored man holding a rod. The big man swung his rod. A resounding crack echoed up to them, followed by another scream.

Evey didn't wait to see more. She dashed away from the window at full speed. Emeric followed. He yelled at her to stop, but she ignored him. There was no way she would let someone take that sort of punishment while she could do something about it.

She ran out of the castle and toward the soldier, who had just lifted his hand to deliver another heavy blow.

"Stop this instant!" she screeched.

He laughed.

"Who do you think you are, girly, tellin' me how to do my job? Get out of my way, unless you want to join her."

Evey now recognized the person on the ground as Frieda, the blacksmith's wife. She had come to deliver horseshoes and a few repaired tools to the castle.

"You'll stand down." She stood as tall as her miniature frame would allow. "I am the lady of this castle and I have jurisdiction here."

"Ha! Lady of this dump? I'm not sure I'd claim that if I was you." He tightened his grip on the rod. "'Sides, what'll you do about it, eh?"

Evey started threatening to leave him as a bloody pulp, when Emeric interrupted.

"Really, sir? Is that any way to talk to my niece? And I might ask, what are the charges against this woman? She was here on my business and I have a right to know."

"She's a thief," he said.

"No, Lord Emeric. I swear, I–"

"Quiet!" The soldier brought down the rod again. It connected against her bowed back with a sickening thud.

Emeric's face showed mix of horror and panic. "You will stand down, sir! What is her crime?"

The soldier also took note of the man's lack of confidence. With a casual wave of his hand, he said, "I don't answer to you."

"While you are on my land, you will-"

The knight brandished his rod, causing Emeric to shrink away. Evey stepped in again.

"How dare you! You have taken oaths of chivalry and loyalty. Yet you stand here defying the local authority and beating a defenseless woman for an unspecified crime. How can you call yourself a knight?"

"Your 'local authority' don't mean nothin' to me." He shoved Evey away so she stumbled to the ground. Emeric approached the man, who stood nearly a head taller.

"You pushed a lady to the ground. I'll have your sword for that, you brigand."

"I'd like to see you try, you Irish pest."

Emeric started for the man's weapons, but the knight stepped out of reach, swung the rod, and smashed Emeric's right arm with his blow. Emeric reeled and landed next to Evey. Then the knight took another swing at the blacksmith's wife. She let out an agonized wail. Evey tried to stand, but Emeric held her down with his good arm.

"Dear me," he said in an exaggerated tone. "What do you think Sir Robert will say when he arrives?"

"Oh," she replied, "I don't think he'll like this at all. To learn that his son's betrothed was forced to the ground by a crude bandit..." she finished with a shake of her head.

"Th.. THE Sir Robert?" the brute asked.

"Oh yes." Emeric said in a serious tone. "He comes here often. My niece is to marry the younger, recently knighted Robert. In fact, they are due for a visit very soon."

Even against the back-light from the setting sun, Evey could see the man's face drain. He threw down the rod ran at full speed. Emeric and Evey struggled to their feet and helped the woman stand.

"Do you have any idea what he wanted?" Emeric asked.

Frieda bowed shallowly. "I'm not entirely sure. I had to cross the creek bridge to get here and he was on it saying something 'bout a new tax. I ain't heard of no new tax, and I ain't got the money anyway. I told him so and walked past him, but he chased me down until he caught me here. That's all I know, my lord."

"The strong prey on the weak," Evey told her uncle with a significant look.

He sighed and shook his head. "How did it get to this?"

"Beggin' your pardon, my lord." Frieda bowed again. "But things like this ain't so uncommon no more. Just last week a widow woman by the edge of the wood got attacked by a knight, claimin' he was on king's business. Attacked right there in front of her child."

"The little eight-year-old?" Evey gasped.

"The very same. A few men got together and stopped him in time, but they got whipped mightily for it."

"Someone should tell the king!" Emeric stated firmly.

"The king lets it happen." Evey spat. "He'd be doing it himself if he was young and fit again."

Emeric and Frieda stared at Evey in disbelief.

"What?" She folded her arms. "Everyone's thinking it. I'm just saying it."

"Meanin' no disrespect, my lord, but she's right. There ain't been a peaceful week in the villages for years now."

Evey turned a fierce stare onto her uncle. "I'm sorry, uncle Emeric, but the country you came to when you were young has changed for the worse."

"And there ain't nothin' we can do." Frieda said sadly. "It's live like slaves, or don't live at all, and tween you and me, I don't fancy my neck in a noose."

Emeric shook his head again. "Well, please let me escort you home. That will be as much as we can do for one night."

"I'd be grateful my lord. You must let me look at your arm. I fear it may be broken."

"I'm afraid you're right. Evelyne, will you take the tools and the horseshoes, please?"

"Yes uncle."

He picked up the rod and walked with Frieda toward the village.

Evey threw one of the horseshoes into the side of a broken wagon. The old wood splintered under the force of the throw. Men beating on villagers was bad enough, but to sit around and take it like it didn't matter? Nothing would ever change if no one tried to do anything about it.

She threw another horseshoe.

By the time she reached the stable, she was on the verge of saddling Hobbes and riding straight for the royal castle. She would give him a piece of her mind, even if she did get chucked into the dungeon for it.

Hobbes stared at her with his knowing eyes and she cooled a little.

"What can I do, Hobbes? My life is a shambles. I'm caught up in horrid politics. I'm stuck in an arranged marriage. We're practically homeless and starving. Why should I have to worry about stuff like this?"

Hobbes nuzzled her, and she rubbed his neck.

"I know. You'll be here for me. Thank you, my friend."

She saddled Hobbes after all, but not to ride to certain death. A gallop around the fields would be relaxing. She packed a dagger in her boot and a few on her belt, just in case she met any beastly knights. She secretly hoped that she would. She longed to whip the tar out of someone.

CHAPTER TWELVE

"Innocent people are getting hurt and killed! They're already starving, but now they have to be slaves to big ugly brutes just because the brutes are stronger."

She realized that she had been stomping around during her tirade and she sat with her back against the tree to catch her breath.

"I know," Isaiah said.

"'I know?' That's all you have to say? And you let me ramble on for an hour?"

Isaiah calmly scraped a stone along the blade of his dagger. "You had to get it out of your system. Things like that always eat away at you until you can't stand it anymore. Then you go and do something stupid, like marching off to challenge the king to a duel."

"How did you know I'd thought of that?" she spluttered.

Isaiah laughed at her and shook his head. "Once you peel away that solid outer shell, you're not a very complicated person."

She folded her arms. "Really? Well, then, sir know-it-all, why didn't I just ride off and do it?"

"Well," He paused, though clearly he was only pretending to think. "It could be that your uncle tied you to a chair in your room, but that seems unlikely. You'd just escape. More likely it was Hobbes. He has a very healthy mellowing effect on you."

She turned and stared. Isaiah had never even seen her as Evelyne. How could he know her so well?

"That's not the point," she said hastily.

"You're right. It's not." He scraped the sharpening stone one last time, then put it in his bag. "I wish there was some way we could fix it, but even my father is helpless."

She started her pacing again. "Ugh! You too! Why does everyone sit around complaining, but not acting! Nothing is going to change unless someone does something."

"Yeah, but not us. You're sixteen. I'm eighteen. What on earth could we possibly do?"

"Stop telling me I'm right! Argue with me or something!"

He smiled. It was utterly maddening.

"Why? I don't disagree with you."

"I'm done with this!" She kicked the tree, and immediately regretted it. "I'm sick of 'You're right, but there's nothing we can do'! I wish someone would just yell at me and tell me I'm being stupid, or that I have my facts mixed up."

Isaiah looked at her with those knowing eyes. Sometimes she couldn't handle how understanding he always was.

"l know one thing that might help," he said quietly. "There are rumors of a caravan from the north. It's supposed to be sending more luxury goods to the king. Shall we?"