Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
England—July 1331
“There is trouble afoot. We cannot go north now that the Scots are allied with the French. Who knows how long this war will be. ’Tis long overdue for us to find a new home. Make everyone ready to travel in a fortnight.”
“Too many are ill. They cannot travel now. Once they heal we will go south. Be wary. There is an ill wind tonight, John.”
He spoke sharply: “Do not call me by name. That name died with the man a long, long time ago.”
The healer pursed her lips and pointed to two men running as fast as their legs could carry them.
“A fat noble in a richly appointed carriage is trespassing through the wood. We could use the horses.” The man leaned over, hands on his knees, sucking in deep gulps of air.
The other man hopped from foot to foot. “I smell a large purse of gold. Perhaps jewels and furs. Shall we take him? ”
John’s mood lifted. A prize was exactly what he needed. Thinking of war made him irritable.
“Lead on.”
A small band of men made their way through the wood, silent as the creatures that shared their home.
“My lord. ’Tis not wise to enter the dark wood. Many who do are never seen again.”
The noble made a rude gesture. “I am in a hurry to see my mistress. The path through the wood is the fastest route. Move on.”
The carriage jolted forward, the horses jerking on the reins. The animals smelled John and his men hiding in the brush. With a wave of his hand, chaos ensued.
“What have we here? A fat noble trespassing through my wood.” John pushed off the tree and sauntered up to eye his prize.
The man looked nervous, sweating and wiping his brow. “How dare you stop me? Let me pass.”
John didn’t bother to answer. Instead he nodded to the men, who made quick work of unhitching the horses.
“You should have listened to your driver. Fortune is with you this day. I am in a magnanimous mood and will let you live.” John eyed the man’s plump hands, the jewels sparkling in the sunlight. An ornate ring adorning every sausage-shaped finger. “I will take the jewels. Every single one.”
The noble spluttered and swore as he removed the jewels. As he handed them over he sneered at John. “The king will hear of this treachery.”
“Don’t forget the chest.” John inclined his head. “I care not what you tell the king.” He pulled the man from the carriage, tossing him to the ground.
“Let them go. Keep the belongings. The horses we will make use of. Sell the carriage.”
He turned to the red-faced noble. The fool carried not a single blade upon his person. How could he be so arrogant?
“Go now and I will let you live. ”
The man opened his mouth then shut it with a snap. He trudged out of the wood muttering, the driver following behind.
Back at the camp, the men were in good spirits. ’Twas a good catch. A fat purse, a large trunk containing jewels and gold and many furs. John could feed his people and provide all they would need.
“Archie. You’ll easily sell the carriage at the Boar’s Head Inn. Take three men with you to bring the horses back. I will meet you there later this eve.”
“Is that wise? The bounty on your head has been raised yet again.”
“Let them raise it. I will not live my life in fear of other men.”
The boy stood inside the door of John’s hut. “A message from Archie.”
John opened the missive and squinted to read the handwriting. Archie was barely literate, and he had a hard time making out the words. “Bloody hell.”
Magda appeared as he was striding across the clearing.
“Do not go out this night. Send one of the others.”
“I cannot. You know we have many sick with fever.” He patted her arm. “I trust you above all others to lead them to safety if anything should happen. We have discussed this many times. You know what needs be done.”
She threw up her hands. “I will not argue with you. It would be wiser to talk to one of the horses.” Her voice softened. “Promise you will take care.”
Minutes later he was riding for the inn. By now he knew every path through the wood. Moonlight shone down, turning the night to day. From a distance, he could see light from the windows. Riding into the courtyard, he called for the stable boy. John dismounted and tossed the reins to the sleepy boy. “I shall not be long.”
Entering the smoky building, he let his eyes adjust to the dimness. Archie relaxed in a corner with a well-dressed traveler. Not a noble, not a soldier, perhaps a rich merchant. John made his way through the crowd to the men. On his way, a tavern wench stopped him.
“Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Not tonight, love.”
She pouted and sauntered away. John faced the men.
“Archie. You should be abed.”
His man was pale and sweating. Perhaps he was sicker than John realized. As Archie pushed back from the table, the man next to him placed a hand on his arm. John narrowed his eyes. Something was amiss. Once more, he looked around the room. Small details he’d missed in his haste to check on Archie fell into place. He noted the furtive looks, hands within cloaks. Cloaks in the middle of July. Inside the stifling room. His back to the wall, John frowned.
“Why?”
The man beside Archie threw off his cloak, as did others in the inn. The bloody king’s men.
“I took you in when you had nothing. Gave you a home. Family.”
The man tossed a bag of gold on the table. “For your service, Archie.”
“Gold? You betrayed me for a bag of gold?”
This man had lived with John for the past three years. He dropped his head, unable to meet John’s eyes.
He snarled at the traitor. “You are a coward. Mark my words. You will die for your betrayal.”
The well-to-do man beside him scoffed. “You’re in no position to be making threats, John Thornton.”
John’s head snapped up .
The man sneered. “Yes. We know who you are. Archie here listened very closely to a conversation you shared with Lord Falconburg over a year ago.”
The betrayal cut deeply. John didn’t bother to respond. He was too busy thinking of his brothers, and of Lord Falconburg and his wife. Because of who he had become, they were all in danger.
“You’re coming with us.”
John didn’t bother to ask where. For he knew. The tower. There were too many for him to resist. The king’s men shoved him into a barred cage set atop a wagon.
“Might I have the pleasure of your name?” John looked down on the well-dressed man.
“Don’t you recognize me?” The man stepped closer. He spat at John. “Whoreson. I am Lord Denby. Letitia’s husband. You shamed me across all of England.”
“Letitia came to me of her own free will. I did not shame you. You shamed yourself by whoring your wife to the king.”
Lord Denby’s fist connected with John’s nose, snapping his head back. Blood poured down his face. John spat the blood into the straw and laughed, as Denby cradled his fist, howling in pain.
“Our sire found favor with another so Letitia told the king about me to make him jealous. All of this was your wife’s doing.”
Then, before Denby could strike him again, John reached through the bars and pulled the man close. “You are a fool.”
He released Denby and stepped back. The short man did not notice John now held his dagger. He took aim and let loose. The blade found its mark in Archie’s throat and his betrayer went down with a gurgle. In time he would find a way to repay Denby as well.
“No one betrays the bandit of the wood and lives to tell the tale.”