Hugh just stared at him, either unable or unwilling to answer. He seemed to be in a degree of shock, just like the others. It was as if they’d all been in a bloodlust frenzy, something they were only now coming to realize. They were all looking at Val as if the man held all the answers but Val had no answers to give, at least not at the moment. But he knew he had to come up with something.
As he stood there, several monks who had heard the commotion came down from the quire of the cathedral and down the stairs to see what had happened. One look at Canterbury on the ground with his brains spread out over the stone and they retreated back into the cathedral in a panic. Val could already hear their cries. He knew they had to get out of there.
“Go,” he commanded, turning Hugh for the door that led out to the courtyard. “Get on your horses and get out of here. Ride back to Henry and tell him what you have done. I will follow you and if you do not tell Henry, I will tell him in your stead. If you think to kill me to silence me, I have eleven men with me who have seen this also. Get out!”
He shoved Hugh, hard, and grabbed Reginald behind him, yanking the man to the door. William and Richard quickly followed and, soon, the four of them were fleeing into the darkness of the evening, murderers who had committed the most atrocious of crimes. But Val remained even as Kenan tugged at him.
“We must leave, too,” he whispered urgently. “Word will get out and we shall be blamed!”
Val almost argued with him but thought better of it. They could proclaim their innocence but to a mob looking for satisfaction, they would more than likely be ignored. He looked at the man with the bad shoulder injury, realizing that man was his only witness that he, in fact, had not killed the archbishop. He had the presence of mind to understand what needed to be done and he gestured to the man.
“Take him,” he told Kenan. “He may be our only hope. Let us get him to a physic and return him with us to Winchester. Henry will need proof of what has happened.”
Kenan grimly agreed, collecting the man and passing him over to two soldiers as the group of them fled the corridor and moved out into the cold night. The soldiers backed out, all of them fleeing back towards Christ’s Gate where their horses await, but Val remained for a moment.
Standing over Canterbury, he just stood there and stared. Something in that man on the floor cut him to the bone. Perhaps it was because he knew how devastated Henry would be, losing an old friend in such a terrible manner. Perhaps it was becausehe knew he was going to be blamed for this, no matter what really happened. He was to be responsible for four knights who lacked self-control. Whatever the outcome of all of this, it was going to be devastating for all concerned.
Val knew the worst was yet to come.
He was the last one out of the corridor, racing across the courtyard of the cathedral and back to Christ’s Gate where Kenan and one other soldier were the last ones waiting for him. Everyone else had already fled.
Leaping onto his steed, he spurred the horse out of Canterbury, finally catching up to his men somewhere in the dead of night. They continued to ride through the night, stopping near dawn to rest the horses for a few hours before continuing on to Selborne. On their last leg of the journey, it snowed all night, covering the ground with a blanket of snow and slowing down their travel.
Winter had finally arrived, signaling– it was whispered by many– the death of a martyr.
Canterbury was dead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Eynsford Castle
One Week Later
Sitting by thewindow in Lady Eynsford’s solar, Vesper could clearly see the bailey of the castle, now covered in about a foot of snow. It was the first real snow of the season, so the soldiers had taken to building an army of snowmen to fight each other. It was rather funny to watch and Vesper had been enjoying the antics all morning, even when she almost got hit with a snowball from the snowman siege. The windows of the solar were only on the second level and a far-reaching throw could easily hit the keep.
Even though the snow had come all night, the day had dawned cloudless and bright. So it was a beautiful sight to look out over the winter-white landscape even though Vesper had no real desire to go out in the snow. She was content to sit by the window in the overly-warm solar and sew on the bodice of a new gown for Lady Eynsford.
But the truth was that since her return to Eynsford, she hadn’t had much drive or energy to do much of anything other than sit and sew. It was as if the memory of Val was too heavy for her to move around, the weight of it crushing her. He was thelast thing she thought of at night and the first thing she thought of in the morning. And all of the space in between, she was either reliving her short memories with him or dreaming of him. Everything about Val de Nerra was closing in on her until she could hardly think.
Misery was an apt word.
She began to second guess herself, too. Perhaps, she shouldn’t have suggested the separation. Perhaps, she should have let him sup with her the night before she departed Bishop’s Waltham for Eynsford. Perhaps, she should have kept the necklace. All of these thoughts rolled around in her mind, causing her to doubt her decision, but she hadn’t wanted to make a mistake and she hadn’t wanted Val to make one, either. That would have been worse had they acted hastily. Now, they were separated to decide whether or not to pursue this courtship.
Vesper was in favor of pursuing.
Separation from Val had made her forget all of her reasoning for their separation in the first place. She had been afraid that his association with a murdering family would become common knowledge and ruin him. But now she was convinced that their feelings for one another could see them through anything. At least, she hoped so. She’d known the man such a short time that it was difficult to know just how strong their bond was, but as far as Vesper was concerned, it was like granite.
She missed the man with every breath.
“Good day to you, Vesper,” Lady Eynsford suddenly entered the solar with her two old maids trailing after her. “It seems that I have slept very late this morning. The cold always makes me so sleepy that I never want to get out of bed.”
She giggled and Vesper smiled. Lady Eynsford was her age, a giggly and sweet girl lacking any brains. Her name before she married the elderly Lord Eynsford had been Lady MaudeFitzStephen and, much like Vesper, had been a ward of the first Lady Eynsford. But the first Lady Eynsford, Isabella, had died of a fever two years ago and barely six months after her death, Lord Eynsford married Maude. She was younger than his daughters with Isabella, creating something of a family flap, but she was a genuinely kind girl so the resistance of Lord Eynsford’s children to her was waning. Not much, but a little.
Family animosity had been a difficult thing for Maude to live with.
Rumor had it that Lord Eynsford was trying to impregnate his young wife and have more sons. But in the eighteen months since their marriage, Maude had yet to conceive. However, the woman spoke of her bedroom activities with the lord, running off at the mouth constantly, and Vesper had probably learned more about marriage and sex in that time than most people learned in an entire lifetime. Maude wasn’t shy about confiding in Vesper and the two other wards, Lisbet d’Vant and Eloise l’Aigle, of her husband’s inability to perform and how Maude would spend hours tugging at his limp manhood in an attempt to arouse him.
It was enough information to embarrass any maiden, Vesper included.
