Chapter I

 

THE SUN SHONE flat and sharp as a blade on her arm. Ellie tilted her face to the sky and squinted into the forest canopy. The scene passed slowly before her, following the rhythmic gait of the horses. Sunlight twinkled and winked through the green leaves like serene, cool sails floating high above the carriage. Truly, summer was the most precious jewel of the English seasons. And this day in early July was particularly fine.

“We are fortunate in the weather for travelling, are we not? I could not be more content in the day.”

Griffith of Nottingham had been tasked with delivering Lady Elspeth of Dorsetshire to Canterbury Castle in Kent. It was a curious experience riding alone in a carriage with a man so far below her station. Yet his manner toward her this entire journey would give one the impression he was her superior.

He rarely spoke. It was remarkable how silent he was. As shut up as tomb and just as dry and lifeless. Captain Griffith was either taking his duty to protect her far too seriously, or else he was dull-witted. He ought to have the civility to make some conversation at least. The journey thus far had been a long one without any measure of discourse.

“Captain, how much longer do you think it will be before we arrive at Canterbury?”

“Long before the bell is rung for Vespers, my lady. In this season, the sun does not touch the horizon before journey’s end.”

“Ah, that is well then.” She smiled, hoping to draw him into further conversation before she was deposited at Canterbury and her last connection with home was severed. “I am sorry to have taken you from your regiment for so little, Captain. My father could not be spared and he would not trust any but you to give me escort. I believe he fancies danger around every corner.”

“I am happy to be of service, my lady.”

“So you claim but I do not think you are sincere. In truth, you do not look or sound happy. You look rather fierce.”

Griffith dipped his head graciously. “My apologies. My mind is elsewhere. Your father, the Earl has a second purpose for my being here. We have a traitor in our ranks and I have been charged with discovering who.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that is a fool’s errand, I am afraid,” she sighed, gazing happily at the summer day. “There will be a reasonable explanation for whatever intrigue Papa thinks he has uncovered. There always is. This is only the third time my father has suspected a traitor in his midst and he was wrong on both counts previous to this one. If Papa would take the time to make some inquiries before sending out the Captain of the Guard, he would be a better man for it.”

“You sound certain he is wrong, my lady.”

Ellie laughed at the expression on the captain’s face. “Do not take me for your conspirator. War bores me witless. Though I think I should enjoy being a spy if I had the aptitude for it.”

She returned her attention to the green forest, though there was not much to see surrounded by so very many trees. The cool air was relief though. The carriage had become a cloistered tomb of heat with nary a breeze wafting through its curtained sides. It was also quite dusty from the high road. She was glad when Captain Griffith ordered the driver to leave that route and take the forest path when the heat of the day was well upon them. Ellie dabbed her neck and forehead with a damp square of linen.

“What is this wood called?”

“This is Weald Forest, my lady.”

Her escort appeared untroubled by the heat though he was clad in a gambeson over which he wore a brigandine. Griffith sat ramrod straight on the bench opposite her with his helmet tucked under his arm. The helmet was unusual; shaped like a pot and made of iron, fixed with a nose guard that had been gouged by a blade in some long ago battle. The brigandine was constructed of rivets, leather and thick wool and buckled like plate across his chest. No maille at least or armor; Ellie could not have borne the constant clanging of steel plate every time they passed over a bump. Still, Griffith appeared woefully ill-protected for a guardsman.

“You have left your armor at home, Captain Griffith?”

“I am an archer, my lady. Helmet and brigandine are all the protection I need. Armor is too weighty and slow for an archer.”

“How exciting. Where is your bow? I should like to see it.”

“It is under the carriage, my lady, secured and out of sight.”

“Is that wise? If we were attacked, how would you retrieve it?”

“If we were attacked I should duck beneath the carriage and retrieve it, my lady.”

“I see. And would you launch a defense from under the carriage?”

“Aye. The carriage would provide cover from which to launch a defense.”

And then he lapsed into silence again.

Ellie sighed. If she meant to have any conversation at all, she would have to tease it out of him one question at a time and she did not have the energy for such toil. She was a lazy thing. It was true. Her mother claimed because she had not married at thirteen as her parents intended, Ellie had grown lazy. Surely, it was not her fault that every one of her betrothed died before she got to the altar. A warring nation was the cause of her unmarried state and laziness was the natural outcome. Perhaps her mother was right. It was well she was marrying at long last if this was to be her attitude going forward in life.

The truth be told, she was no longer impressed by young gentlemen. Their words and attentions had begun to bore her of late. The silent Captain Griffith was proving to be a novelty in that he had not tired her with talk, though she would prefer him better if he were somewhat less taciturn.

She examined him covertly. He was fine looking for a homme d’armes, this Griffith of Nottingham. Ellie had a vague memory of his arrival to her father’s guard two years ago. He attracted notice because he was uncommonly handsome for a soldier. Unfortunately, an appealing face was all he had to his credit back then. Griffith had no rank, family, position or lands. He was one of those vagrant soldiers of fortune her father was so fond of welcoming into his company. However, the man proved himself worthy, rising rapidly in rank to Captain of the Guard.

His profile was charming, Ellie thought. The line of his jaw and nose hinted at a Roman heritage. She could not make out the colour of his eyes from this angle, but his hair was thick and nut brown in colour and sheen. He wore it as all the men of her father’s guard did, bluntly cut above the ears and at the back. It curled loosely over his broad forehead. He would need to cut it soon.

“What is your age, Captain Griffith?”

“Six and twenty, my lady.”

A terse answer but at least he looked at her this time when he spoke. His eyes were brown with copper flecks that caught the light. Thick black brows and an unnerving stare. His mouth was rather sensual, Ellie thought. She had no impression of the rest of him. He was wearing hose of rough wool, leather boots almost to his knees and a sword belted at his side. The captain was undoubtedly strong as all the men in her father’s regiment were.

“Do not be offended, but I thought you were much older. You are so very serious all of the time. We are near in age,” she said cheerfully. “I am eighteen.”

He nodded.

“Do you enjoy being a soldier?’

The captain fixed her with a look. “Yes, my lady.”

“That is too bad,” she said regretfully. “War robs one of so many pleasures.”

When war broke out between the English barons and King John, Ellie lost interest in the soldiers in her father’s regiment. It had been an entertaining pastime watching them train and prance about in full armor, pennant crests waving in the air but when they started into battle, soldiering lost its appeal when it meant the young men would die.

“Though peace was not much better,” she mused aloud. “Laying down arms is apparently impossible without giving one’s only daughter in marriage. Treaties cannot be negotiated without wedding two strangers who have gained nothing in the conflict and were in no wise involved.”

“It is the way of the world.” Captain Griffith was watching the forest and appeared not to be listening.

“That is what my mother said. A negotiated marriage is the price of peace. It seems to me that peace should be the price of peace. As it is so difficult to maintain, doing so should be the price men are willing to pay.” Ellie turned her attention to the green sun-dappled scene outside the carriage. “But I am ignorant of the reasons for war. I am sure they are very sound or men would not rush so often into death.”

Thank goodness this conflict had ended and swiftly too. Louis, the Dauphin had taken London with little bloodshed and most recently, the Saxon capital of Winchester. The barons, of whom her father was one, were celebrating the overthrow of King John and making hay while the sun shone, as Ellie’s old nanny had put it.

An apt expression for what transpired in London after Louis’s reception. In his eagerness to increase his influence with the new King of England, her father offered his only child to Sir Tyndale, a knight in Louis’s company. Tyndale had been left behind in Kent to hold Canterbury for the French against guerrilla loyalists and Louis was only too glad to reward the noble knight without it costing him too much. The law of primogeniture meant the Earl of Dorsetshire’s daughter would inherit the title and land. A rather cheap bargain, Ellie had thought when her father broke the news.

“Captain Griffith, if you will pardon my intrusion on your thoughts again. I am conducting an experiment and you play a part in my analysis.”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to her face. “I am at your service, Lady Elspeth.”

“Answer me this: why did my father arrange this marriage to Tyndale? Did he not do enough to secure the new king’s favour without offering up his only daughter? I ask you as a gentleman, what is your opinion of this matter?”

“Your father and the Dauphin both stand to benefit by the alliance, my lady. Your marriage to Sir Tyndale will secure the Dauphin’s hold on the crown. The Earl’s property is strategically important from a military perspective. Louis seeks to control access to England and your marriage to Tyndale will make this possible.”

Ellie rested her head on her chin and watched the landscape roll by. “He presumes a great deal, our new king. A marriage seems a rather flimsy military strategy upon which to hold a crown. I had not thought of the land or the title. I assumed from the first they would be taken from me. Why not simply give them to Tyndale without the marriage? That seems to me to be the more reasonable approach. Marriage just muddies the waters.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“You agree with me?” She raised her head.

“No, my lady. I was being agreeable to end the conversation.”

Ellie sighed. “My father often does the same thing. It is difficult to make one’s point when it is not men who are handed over as a spoil of war. That is what this marriage amounts to. I dare say it will be the spoiling of me. But I will not shirk my duty, good captain. You may report back to my father that I mean to make Tyndale very happy.”

She did not expect Griffith to believe her as she made no attempt to sound sincere. She could only speak what was in her heart, and at the moment there was only ennui.

Since leaving the high road, Ellie had lost track of where they were. Travelling was always an adventure these days what with one danger or another around every corner. At least she could console herself that she was seeing a bit of life before she was shut away forever in Canterbury Castle. Entombed in luxury. Pampered to insensibility. A petted, admired, well-behaved lump, Ellie thought. That is what it is to be married until children come along and then one is discarded.

Still, there would be dresses. Lovely dresses. And glittering company. And trips to France. She enjoyed pretty things and the marriage would benefit the people of Dorsetshire. Liberation from King John’s despotic grip had dropped ten years from her father’s face. According to Ellie’s mother, the Earl could hardly restrain himself when Louis expressed a desire to reward Tyndale. Her father had all but leaped across the table to offer his daughter. She was handed over with the same enthusiasm as he did the pigs given to the tenant farmers for their loyalty during the conflict.

Of course, her father and Tyndale did not view the exchange in quite the same light. They were rather giddy over the match. Her groom had sent her a note that spoke of her great beauty and grace and that it would be his chief joy to be her protector and so on and so forth. Not a word of it true, but it was nice of him to make the effort.

It was more than she would get from the likes of Captain Griffith if such a match was even possible. The nobility did not marry beneath them. Arranged marriages may not have romance and passion, Ellie thought, but they survived with effort and self-sacrifice.

“Anything for a peaceful life,” she sighed and rested her chin on her fist.

The carriage slowed and then halted to a standstill. Griffith moved to the window. “Why are we stopped?” he called to the driver.

“There is an obstruction on the path, sir. A tree has come down.”

“Stay here,” he commanded Ellie sharply. “Do not leave your seat. I will see to it.”

Ellie sat up and watched with great interest as Griffith drew his sword from its sheath. “Do you expect outlaws? I have never seen one up close though I have heard tales of their exploits.”

“My lady, remain in the carriage and keep still. If this is a trap, you will reduce the risk of discovery if you are silent.”

Griffith fastened the carriage door quietly behind him and with stealth, moved alongside the horses. His sword was raised and his eyes scanned the trees for any movement. There was no sound aside from the stamping of the horses’ hooves and the rustling of the wind in the trees.

A young tree had fallen across the path. Not large but in full leaf with many branches. Griffith grabbed one of the leafy branches and pulled hard, dragging the obstacle out of the way. Just as the path was cleared, there was a shout from behind. Griffith turned to see the driver tackled to the ground by three men, cloaked and hooded and carrying crossbows. The driver did not resist and was soon overpowered.

Griffith jumped at the outlaws with a roar, the blade of his sword slicing the air. One of them leaped aboard the carriage seat and reached for the reins. Griffith swung, slashing the man on the arm. In that moment, the second outlaw jumped him from behind and the two men tumbled back with a heavy thud. The captain held fast, rolling until he was astride the outlaw, and without hesitating, he drove his fist into the man’s face.

The third outlaw had chased off the Earl’s driver who was running down the forest path as fast as his bony legs could carry him. When the driver was good and gone and no longer a threat, the third outlaw turned back to the carriage and leaped aboard. He shouted at his confederates to join him. Griffith whirled about to see the men had control of the reins; the horses, already skittish, sprang forward. Griffith’s prisoner took advantage of the distraction to break free and he flung himself at the carriage as it rolled down the path. The horses pulled at full gallop, hauling the precariously weaving carriage behind them and were well away, disappearing fast into the forest.

The speed at which the attack unfolded and ended was dizzying. Captain Griffith stood in the middle of the path, his sword dangling uselessly at his side as the carriage containing Lady Elspeth thundered further and further away.