Noble Hearts 03 - The Courageous Heart (40 page)

“What?” Joanna panted, stumbling across the grass as she tried to resist him.

“That earldom was mine!” Matlock growled, misunderstanding her. “It was promised to me! And you’re going to get it back for me.”

“
No I won’t!
Let me go!” She tried to struggle free of him, but the closer they came to the White Tower the tighter
his
grip
became
.

“Keep quiet or I’ll snap your neck,” Matlock growled as they approached the stairs.

As desperately as
Joanna
wanted to scream and sound the alarm
to
the guard taking the air at the top of the stairs, instinct told her to stay quiet.
She would find another chance to make her escape.

“Let me in,” Matlock demanded. He showed the guard th
e same parchment and seal that h
e had flashed to the guard at the gate.

The
man
moved to open the door but asked, “Who’s that,” nodding to Joanna.

Joanna turned her face away from him. The hood of the Bandit cloak had managed to stay more or less up, covering her hair and hiding her face.

“Shut up and do as you’re told!” Matlock barked at the guard. As soon as they were inside and the door shut behind them
,
Matlock stuffed the parchment back in his pocket. “That’s the last time I turn to Pennington and his little tricks for help,” he declared and spit on the ground.

He yanked Joanna into the twisting staircase next to the door and started up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” she asked, swallowing to keep the panic at bay.

“To finish what we started,” Matlock answered.

Joanna’s confusion flashed to dread when he
pushed her out in
to the banquet hall.
Matlock’s
breathing grew shallow. He kept his hold on her
as he
pushed
her to the left along the wall
.
The great hall
was dark, lit only by moonlight, but the lumpy forms of courtiers asleep on cots and makeshift beds
that had taken the place of the long table
were unmistakable.

Matlock swung back, pushing Joanna against the wall and pinning her there. “Don’t you make a sound,” he whispered.

She debated doing just that. One scream and the room full of nobles wo
uld be awake.

The chill of a blade against her throat stopped her thoughts in their tracks. Matlock cut her gasp short with a hand over her mouth. To her surprise, he handed the blade to her.

“I don’t trust you to
do it on your own,” he whispered, drawing a second dagger from his belt. “King Richard lies asleep on the other side of that door.” He nodded to the closed door
across from
where they stood. “You’re going to go in there and stab his useless French heart. And if you don’t, there will be two bodies in his bed. Do I make myself clear?”

Joanna jerked a fast nod, her eyes wide. Her trembling hand could hardly hold the dagger. Her eyes darted
towards
the stairs. Even though she knew it was impossible, she looked for Ethan.

Matlock narrowed his eyes, peeling Joanna from the wall and shoving her
through
the room full of sleeping nobles. She took one shuddering, silent step after another towards the king’s bedchamber. Matlock was so close behind her that she could feel the heat of his breath. Her eyes searched the dark for any way out.

She stopped when she reached the door. A few of the nobles stirred but settled once more. Matlock poked her in the back with his blade, ordering her to go on. She turned the handle on the king’s door and pushe
d.

With a painful crea
k the door inched open. Joanna’s pulse pounded. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting every courtier in the building to wake and shout. No one moved.

As soon as the door was open wide enough, Matlock shoved her through. Joanna stumbled, the shuffling of her feet on the floor sounding like thunder in her ears. When she was well into the room Matlock followed, shutting the door behind her.

At first sight the room appeared empty. The page that Joanna had encountered the day before was gone. It was either extraordinary luck or a very bad sign.

“Get on with it!” Matlock whispered, pointing to the curtained bed with his dagger.

Joanna sucked in a breath, calling on every ounce of courage she knew she didn’t possess. A floorboard creaked under her as she crept towards the bed. She touched the rich curtain and closed her eyes.
King Richard was a heartless murderer, she reminded herself. He had slaughtered thousands of innocent lives in the name of God. He deserved the same fate.

Still she hesitated. Her heart rang in her ears.
What would Toby do in a situation like this? What would Ethan do?

She swallowed and drew her arm back, turning to face Matlock. “I won’t do it,” she whispered. “I won’t kill a man
. Not for you, not for anyone.”

Matlock growled like a feral wolf about to attack. He lunged toward Joanna, dagger outstretched. Joanna gasped and lost her balance in her attempt to dodge. She tumbled back through the curtains onto the bed. Matlock surged after her.

The b
ed was empty.

“Where is he?” Matlock seethed, keeping his voice to a whisper
as he flailed through the rumpled bedclothes
.

Joanna rolled to the other side of the bed
where the curtain had been tied back
and jumped to her feet. There was no place to go but back into the room packed with sleeping nobles. As Matlock struggled with the bed
clothes
she dashed towards the
door
.

“Oh no you don’t!” Matlock caught up to her only a few feet into the room. He grabbed her cloak, yanking her off her feet. She spilled to the floor with a thump that was sure to rouse
the sleeping nobles and half of the guards in the Tower
. But it wasn’t guards
or courtiers
that caught her attention and made her flatten herself to the floor. A light shone from the room at the far end of the hall.

“Get up!” Matlock hissed, dragging her to her feet. “Move!”

Joanna had never been in
the cham
ber a
t the end of the banquet hall
, but Lucy had told her
it was a chapel. She gulped for breath, desperate to steady herself enough to come up with a plan of escape. Chapels were houses of God, she told herself.
If a light was on it meant
help
was near
.

She broke away from Matlock and sprinted to
the
chapel
. Matlock lunged after her. He caught her at the entrance, clamping his forearm around her throat. They both froze.

There, kneeling at the altar in prayer, was King Richard. The light of a candelabra on the floor beside him cast warm, flickering shadows throughout the vaulted room. Without his royal robes the king looked as ordinary as any other man. His
unadorned
head was bent and his folded hands rested on the altar.

Matlock burst through the shock of discovering the King of England as vulnerable as any man by crunching his fist around
Joanna’s
hand. Somehow she still held the dagger. “Go and do as you’ve been
ordered
,” he murmured in her ear.

He nudged her with the point of his blade. Joanna was forced to step into the room. She walked as soundlessly as possible, certain that her heart alone would give her away. Matlock kept inches behind her, pushing her on and on until they were only feet away from the king’s unprotected back.

A flicker of movement to the
side of the room caught her eye
. A plain door with a barred window stood against one side of the room, a prison cell within the chapel. From that cell a pale face and a pair of blue eyes watched her. Joanna turned her face towards the man in the cell. Their eyes met.

“Crispin!” she breathed her master’s name, too quiet to be heard.

Crispin must have recognized her. His hands came up to clasp the bars in the door. “Joanna, run!” he shouted, followed by, “Your majesty, look out!”

King Richard jolted from his prayer and turned towards the cell. At the same time Joanna ducked and dodged away from
Matlock
.
Matlock raised his dagger. The king realized the danger he was in and twisted fully to stare straight at Matlock as his dagger hung in the air. He shouted something in French.

Joanna didn’t
hesitate
. She knocked against a chapel pillar and sprinted towards the door.
King Richard continued to shout. Joanna shot into the banquet room without looking
back
.
The rows of courtiers stirred and mumbled.
She bolted for the stairs and flew down
ward
, teeth clenched, willing herself not to fall over in her panic.
The guards were rousing from sleep at the sound of shouting from the second floor. She
passed them at a sprint
, throwing her
self towards the outside door.

The guard at the top of the stairs on the other side straightened from where he had been lounging against the wall.
“What the…,” he mumbled as Joanna shot past him and down to the yard.

The Tower was still sleepy and silent as Joanna tore across the yard towards the gate.
Dawn
crept up
on the horizon
just as flickers of light appeared and grew within the White Tower. There was no time for her to hesitate.

“Open the gate!” she cried as she approached her escape. “Open it!”

The guard who had let her and Matlock in earlier hopped up from his post. His narrowed eyes widened as he recognized her. Whatever symbol Matlock had showed the man before still had its effect. The guard rushed to unlock the gate. Joanna glanced over her shoulder, heart pounding, as a buzz of shouts began to filter out of the Tower. She danced in place, praying the guard would let her out before it was too late.

“What’s all this about?” the man asked. He too looked back towards the White Tower.

Joanna didn’t answer. The lock clicked open and the gate hung loose. She grabbed its cold bars from the guard’s hands and threw it open. With a cry of terror and relief she raced out into the street.

Chapter TwentyThree

“Joanna!” Ethan shouted as he approached the Tower. He had expected to have to argue or fight his way onto the grounds, to search for fruitless hours to find her.
But as he jogged up Thames Street towards the ominous silhouette of the fortress
,
the unmistakable form of Joanna in the Bandit disguise streaked away from the gate. “Joanna!”

She stopped suddenly, tripping in her haste to change direction.

“Ethan!” she answered his call. The sheer terror in her voice pumped adrenaline through
his
body. He picked up speed, sprinting towards her.

They met in the middle of the road, bodies crashing into each other with so much force that he came close to being knocked off his feet. She threw her arms around him, panting and crying hysterically. He held her tightly, dizzy with panic on her behalf.

“We have to get out of here!” She recovered quickly, pulling away from him and turning to look back at the Tower.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, senses bristling.

She shook her head and grabbed his hand. “Now!”

He didn’t need any further explanation. She took off up the street faster than he’d ever known her to run. He ran with her, watching their path for pursuers or an ambush. The streets were just beginning to come alive with carts and vendors as dawn light seeped around the edges of buildings.

Joanna’s alarm hadn’t lessened by the time they rushed into the courtyard behind The Stag Hunt. As soon as they were out of sight of the street she peeled the Bandit cloak off of her shoulders
,
throwing it to the ground. Her hair spilled from the hood in wild waves around her. Ethan would have thought it was beautiful if she hadn’t been panting so fiercely. She clawed at her vest, desperate to get it off.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded, searching the
garden to be sure no one was watching Joanna’s frantic attempt to undress.

“King Richard!” she sputtered between lung-searing pants. “Matlock … tried to make me … kill him!”

“Matlock?” Ethan’s fury soared.

“In the chapel! Crispin was there, in a cell.”

She paused to yank the chausses off of her legs. The shirt she wore did little to cover her. He swooped to pick up the Bandit cloak and tried
drape it around her shoulders
.

“No!” She pushed away. “He saw me! The king saw me. The guards all saw me like this!”

Her fear was
contagious. “Upstairs,” he told her, picking up the pieces of the Bandit disguise and rushing her towards the stable.

Joanna’s panic ebbed by a hair once they were alone in the safety of his room. She threw off the shirt and buried herself against his chest.
Ethan held her, willing himself to calm the rage that filled him over the state she was in. Slowly her breathing returned to normal.

When she was
still he asked, “What happened? Tell me everything.”

Joanna swallowed. She took a few deep breaths. “I know where Aubrey and Madeline are being held.”

“At a tavern on Londo
n Bridge?
” Ethan finished. “Rebecca woke me right after you left and told me. I went after you but I didn’t find anything.”

“You came after me?” Joanna repeated, a moment of hope flickering through her round eyes.

“Of course I did,” he told her, brushing a hand across her cheek. He held his tongue over the admonition he wanted to give her for charging off without him.

“The tavern is across from the church. I went there to find them, to do something.” She lowered her eyes, expression miserable. “Matlock was there waiting. He knew me for who I was immediately.” Her eyes flashed back to meet his. “He and Pennington have had some sort of falling out. Pennington won’t let him near Madeline.”

“That might be a good thing.”

She shook her head. “Roderick is guarding them. I’ve been in that tavern before. The halls are tight and the rooms are small and most of them overlook the river. There’s no easy way out.”

“We’ll find a way.” He began to move, but Joanna clamped his arms and stopped him.

“Matlock forced me to go with him to the Tower to murder the king. He had some sort of seal from Pennington. When the guards saw it they let us in. Pennington really does hold sway at the Tower.”

“We can stop him,” Ethan told her.
O
ne way or another
they had to
.

“
No, Ethan, it’s more complicated than that. Pennington holds the keys to the Tower, but
I don’t know where
he
is.
We both know that he wants Aubrey for himself and he wants Crispin and Jack dead, and the trial is today.”

“I’ll speak up at the trial,” he vowed.
There wasn’t a question or consideration in his mind except for Joanna.
“Whatever influence I have with King Richard, I’ll use it.” He stopped, holding her at arm’s length. “Is the king still alive?”

Joanna squeezed her eyes shut and nodded
, whether in relief or horror at her memories he didn’t know.
She slowed her breathing and told the story a second time, more coherently.
“King
Richard was in the chapel.
When Matlock tried to force me to kill him, Crispin
saw us approaching
from a cell built into the wall
and warned the king.”

“He did?”

“Richard turned and saw Matlock. He saw me too, but I ran before anyone could stop me.”

“Thank God for that!” He pulled her close again, grateful that she had made it out.

She worked to
stay
calm.
“I should get dressed
.” She shrugged away from him
.
“My clothes are in the inn.”

She took Toby’s cloak from the trunk at the foot of his bed and threw it around her shoulders.
Ethan watched her, well aware of the wall that had gone up between them as she recovered her senses. This time he wouldn’t stand for it.
When she turned to leave the loft he followed her.

“There’s more,” he said
, walking by her side across the courtyard to the kitchen
. “Tell me what it is.”

She glanced sideways up at him as
they passed through the inn
.
It was still too early for anyone to be up.
“I’m just scared.”

He ached to ease that fear, to spend the rest of his life easing it. “Joanna, I will fight for you. I will do whatever it takes to win this battle for you.”

She
gulped, tears making her eyes shine as they climbed the stairs. When they had crept into the room where Wulfric and Meg were sleeping she said,
“I want to believe you, Ethan, but you’re as changeable as the seasons.”

He stepped close
as she pulled her dress over her head
, laying a hand on her arm. “Not this time. Never again.” Her eyes swam with hope and love and doubt. “I know where my loyalties lie now. I know where my home is.”

She let out a breath. He could see the struggle tighten every muscle of her face and shoulders. She had no reason to trust him, he’d given her no reason. Those reasons would have to start now.

“Once you’re dressed we’ll find Simon
and David and make a plan,” he assured her.
“
The four of us together should be able to break through whatever defenses Roderick has.” He included her deliberately. It was her battle as much as his.

She
stepped back to retrieve her kirtle
. “What about the trial?
We have to be there.
”

“
We’ll have time
. If we storm the tavern
as soon as possible
we should be able to rescue Aubrey and Madeline then go to the Tower to defend Crispin and Jack.”

She paused, blinking at him. “You would be willing to do that?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation.

She dropped her arms midway through tying her kirtle.
The frustration that had lived on her face since he’d seen her again after so many years melted. She surged towards him, grabbing his tunic and pulling
him
close to kiss
him
. The power of her kiss took him by surprise. She was possessive, demanding. Every part of him was drawn to surrender to
her
.

As quickly as she’d
taken him, she let him go. “I love you
,
Ethan of Windale.”

He shook his head. “Ethan Dunkirke.”

She stared up at him, lips parted. Then she ru
shed forward for another kiss.

“We have to hurry,” she breathed when she was done. “There isn’t much time.”

There were already too many people for Joanna’s liking traversing London Bridge by the time she, Ethan, Simon, and David made their approach. The hour was still early, but the light of dawn painted the cloudy sky in shades of pink and red. More than a few heads turned to watch them as Ethan led their group, each of them armed with one of David’s old swords or daggers.

“That one.” Joanna pointed to the tall tavern where she knew her mistress was captive.

“I came here last night,” Ethan murmured. He winced. “The barkeep said there had been a man and a boy. You were wearing the Bandit disguise.”

Joanna touched his arm. “It’s alright.”

He nodded and picked up his pace. Joanna checked behind her. Simon and David nodded. They were ready. Joanna took a deep breath as Ethan pulled open the tavern door.

The common room was far from empty. Pennington stood near the fireplace, half a dozen armed men surrounding him as he held court. He was pale and any trace of his usually sly grin was gone. As their group burst through the door Pennington’s face twisted to shock and alarm.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“We’
ve come for Aubrey and Madeline,” Ethan announced, strong as a warrior.

Pennington didn’t hesitate. “Kill them!” he ordered his men.

Joanna yelped and jumped towards the stairs as the six armed thugs scrambled towards Ethan, Simon, and David. Ethan dropped to a crouch and raised his sword to slash at the first one. His skill outmatched the thug’s speed and the man crumpled with a cry. Seeing their comrade fall only fueled the others. They raised a
shout
that shook the beams of the tavern.

As the five remaining men clashed with Ethan, Simon, and David, Pennington dashed around them, bolting for the door.

“No!” Joanna shouted. She pounced from her spot on the stairs as he passed her, attempting a clumsy slash with the long dagger she held.

Pennington shrieked, but her blow missed and she lost her balance. She barreled into him, slamming them both into the wall beside the door.

“You little bitch!” he shouted. He was unarmed but struck out of her with his heavily-ringed hand. The blow smashed against the side of her head with
searing
pain.

Pennington grabbed for her dagger. With a wordless shout Joanna held on to it for all she was worth.
His
hands closed around hers, wrenching at her fingers. She leaned into him and brought her knee pounding up. He shouted, but she could feel that
she hadn’t hit her mark fully.

Growling, Pennington redoubled his efforts to pry the dagger from her hand.
He changed tactics, using all of his strength to smash Joanna’s hand into the wall beside them. Joanna cried out in pain. She dropped the dagger. With a triumphant shout Pennington bent to retrieve it.

This time when Joanna slammed her knee up it hit it’s mark, Pennington’s face. He stumbled back with a sharp yell, blood spurting from his nose. The fury in his eyes when they met Joanna’s made her heart stop. He dove for the dagger again. Without thinking, she kicked it away from both of them, into the roiling battle. She realized her mistake as Pennington glared at her, bloodied teeth bared. He raised his hands, ready to attack.

“What’s going on here?” A deep voice sounded from the top of the stairs.

Pennington looked past Joanna’s shoulders. Joanna didn’t dare turn away from him, but several sets of footfalls echoed from the floor above. Pennington’s eyes met hers. Then he leapt for the door, threw it open, and disappeared into the street.

Joanna let out a breath. Her attention shifted to the battle. Another of the thugs had gone down, by whose hand she didn’t know. Simon and David were holding their own against Pennington’s men, but it was Ethan who had the obvious skill and the advantage.

“What’s this?”

She turned to find a half-dressed man near the top of the stairs. He and a growing number of other tavern patrons craned their necks to get a look at the battle. None of them
looked as though they wanted to get involved.