“I am a ferrier, m’lord,” the older man said hesitantly. “I canna provide ye with gold or coin, but I can provide ye with meself. If Edward the Younger is in need, then we must help.”
Toby knew the man who spoke. He was kind but not intelligent. She could see most of the other townsmen talking quietly to one another, no doubt discussing their prowess with a sword and crossbow. Some of the men had already seen battle, called into action a few years earlier with the removal of King Edward and the Despencers. There were some men, however, that had left to aid the crown and had not returned.
“What of the opposition, my lord?” Toby could not keep silent; she hated to see men’s lives wasted. “Can you please tell them of the opposition they will face?”
Tate looked at her, her beautiful face strong and her expression intense. He didn’t sense hostility from her, merely concern.
“The opposition is Queen Isabella and her lover, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March,” he said, glancing over the crowd. “Mortimer has a large army at his disposal, as does the queen. The king’s troops, however, are loyal to young Edward; that much we have ascertained. The Queen’s strength will come from France and her brother, the king’s army. But once we have begun our campaign to reclaim the throne, summoning France’s troops will take time. It is my belief that we will have enough time to subdue Isabella and Mortimer before support arrives.”
“But what of the nobles?” Toby asked.
Tate’s gaze fixed on her again; he seemed incapable of staying away for long. “There are many in support of the king.”
“Who?”
“Alnwick, Warkworth and York in the north. Arundel in the south.”
He had named some of the most powerful nobles in England. Their armed support collectively was staggering. Toby felt her questions had been answered and was reluctant to press him further, although she was still opposed to the general idea of war. Still, any more questions would have made her appearbelligerent, which normally would not have concerned her, but she did not want to shame her father. Balin, sensing she had come to the end of her queries, thank the Lord, stepped in.
“I am sure that each man can find it within his conscience to lend what support he can, my lord,” he said. “All men interested in committing themselves to the young king’s army will assemble at the church tomorrow at noon for further instructions. For my part, I will supply a herd of my finest sheep to sell at market and donate the proceeds.”
Toby’s jaw dropped. “Father.…”
Balin cast his daughter a withering glare. “My daughter, as she is most knowledgeable in the accounting of my livestock, will be glad to show you the prize herd north at Lorbottle.”
Toby was speechless. It was the largest herd of sheep they had, nearly ready to be sheared. The money they would bring would be enormous. Astounded, she grappled with the concept as her father called an end to the gathering and the townspeople began to disband. She was so stupefied that she didn’t realize when Tate came and stood next to her.
“If it would not take you away from any pressing duties, I would see the sheep this day,” he said. “I would also like a full accounting.”
Jolted from her thoughts, Toby looked up at him. From the corner of her eye, she could see that her father was about to make a hasty retreat from the church. “Excuse me a moment, my lord.”
She raced to her father, cutting off his exit. Balin held up his hands.
“Not a word,” he hissed at her. “You have my orders. Follow them.”
“Father, do you realize what you have done?” she hissed in return. “To donate five hundred head of sheep, with the price of wool today, will cost us a fortune in lost money. We stillhave to pay the wages of our farm, our taxes, and eat on top of everything else. We need that money.”
“It will not do us any good if England goes to the dogs under Isabella and Mortimer,” he said flatly. “We have suffered so much under Edward’s rule. Can you not understand that the young king is our best, brightest hope?”
“I understand that you have apparently lost your mind.”
“There are many things in this world that I will tolerate and many things that I learn to accept,” Tate was standing behind Toby, listening to everything that had been said. “But the one thing I refuse to accept is a daughter’s disrespect to her father. You, Mistress Toby, have an appalling lack of manners. I have seen such display from the moment I first entered this church.”
Toby was ashamed and defensive at the same time. “If honesty is a sin, then I am indeed guilty, my lord.”
“It is not a sin. But your lack of control is.”
Toby wisely refrained from an opinionated retort. She wasn’t a fool and calmed herself with effort. “May I speak frankly, my lord?”
The corner of Tate’s mouth twitched. It was difficult for him not to smile at what was surely to come. “By all means.”
Toby took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t about to slap her for her insolence. “My father became prosperous by hard work and good luck, but only by harder work and even more good fortune have we maintained it. My mother used to maintain the business when I was very small, but that duty passed to me several years ago after she became ill. Since that time, we have seen our prosperity grow many times over. Were it not for me, however, my father would have given everything away and we would be living in poverty. He is generous beyond compare and does not know when to stop.”
“And you believe that donating to the king’s cause is an example of how your father does not know when to stop?”
“Not necessarily. But we were counting on that harvest of wool to pay wages to our farmhands for the next year. Many people depend on us for their livelihood.”
Tate cocked his head thoughtfully. “Then your opposition is not against the king himself.”
