I strode away, leaving my friend to watch us go, silently furious. He needed to be at his best if he was going to be any use to me that evening; not tired and anxious. These men were no threat to me, or to Nico’s position as my head of security. Our journey had been long, and treacherous at times, and it had clearly taken a toll on Nico’s mind and body. But with some rest and recuperation, he’d be fighting fit by this evening; exactly when I needed him. Not only were his sword fighting skills the stuff of legend back in Sicily, but he was a vital source of information, able to get the servants in his confidence as well ashis fellow soldiers. If there was one thing I’d learned by growing up as the fourth son in a noble household, it was that the staff heard and saw more than the nobility knew. And they were willing to pass on that knowledge to certain trusted individuals. Or, occasionally, for a small fee.
I skipped down the stone steps at the front of the castle, followed by my new guards, and headed straight out of the castle grounds towards a cluster of buildings that approximated a small town.
“Hang back when we reach the market,” I ordered the brothers. “I’m not looking to cause a commotion, I want to blend in as much as possible.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I was going to tire of their speaking in unison very quickly. But they did as I asked, slowing their pace and doing their best to look as though they’d simply come to patrol the market, even browsing the stalls and making small talk with vendors they appeared to know.
I passed rickety tables and carts stocked with forest fruits and root vegetables, a few with live chickens and rabbits, and even a blacksmith with a row of iron horseshoes, letter openers and some simple jewellery. I ran my fingers over the dull, pewter bangles and braided leather bracelets adorned with wooden beads, smiling politely and exchanging a few words with the stall holders. Nothing I saw was even close to the quality I had been used to back home. I said a silent prayer that the armour and weapons provided to the guards were superior to this…scrap.
As I reached the middle of the square, I recognised the tall wooden structure at its centre, around which the market appeared to have been deliberately positioned: a gallows. Beside it stood a pair of stocks, and on the ground a blackened circle of ash showed where someone had been recently burnt at the stake—most likely a witch. It was a simple setup, but I’d worked withless in rural parts of Italy and Sicily. The gallows looked well maintained despite clearly getting plenty of use, and the stocks were sturdy enough. It would do the trick.
Now, to root out my first witch and prove to Prince John that he’d chosen the right man for the job, and the right husband for his daughter.
The last market stall on the edge of the square bore an assortment of unusual items: bundles of herbs tied with string; knitted and handsewn items; and lucky rabbits’ feet. A silly superstition that felt right at home in this tiny, backwater town.
The woman behind the table was mid conversation with a hunched, older gentleman who leaned on a wooden cane. I was about to move on and make my way back to the castle, but something made me linger.
I picked up a clay dish, turning it over in my hands with feigned curiosity as the old man handed a few coins to the stall owner.
“It’s for your trinkets.”
I looked up. The dark-haired woman behind the stall had finished her conversation and now watched me with clever eyes as I studied the item. I didn’t respond for several seconds as her hazel eyes bored into mine, holding me in place. I cleared my throat. “Pardon me?”
“The dish you’re holding. It’s for your trinkets.”
I held her gaze, amusement teasing my lips. “I don’t have any trinkets.”
The woman’s slender brow rose. “Then why are you looking at a trinket dish?”
I chuckled and replaced the misshapen clay bowl on the table.
I should have returned to the castle to prepare for the banquet, but for some unknown reason I hesitated, running a finger along the table’s edge in front of the other items. “Do youmake them yourself?” I couldn’t have explained what made me ask. Or why I had paused at this table at all. But now that I had the stall owner’s attention, I wasn't ready to let it go. Perhaps it was the months of travelling, trapped aboard a ship with a crew of smelly, and incredibly hairy, men. I had barely set eyes on a woman since leaving Sicily, and there was no harm in practicing the art of flirtation before I met my intended for the first time that evening.
“Not everything, no,” she said, slowly. “One of my sisters dyes the leather and wool, and another gathers the herbs from our garden. They’re wonderful for making poultices, tea and keeping spiders away.”
“And the rabbits’ feet?” I looked up and caught her eyes, seeing something flicker there in the depths of her gaze. I couldn’t have said what—not fear, more like a challenge.
She nodded. “Yes, those are mine. I trap the rabbits for our supper and turn the furs into blankets and clothing. I thought some of the villagers might want a good luck charm.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Waste not, want not.”
I felt the corner of my lips turn upwards in a half smile. “Indeed. Is your husband a superstitious man, Mrs...?”
“Lafay,” she responded after a moment’s hesitation. “And my husband sadly passed a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Lafay.” I picked up a white rabbit’s foot from the selection before me and inspected it. “Did you know these are often used in witchcraft?” I wasn’t sure why I said it. To provoke a reaction?
Miss Lafay’s brows pinched. Her tone grew decidedly cooler than it had been at the start. “No, I was not aware of that. I’m just a simple widow selling whatever wares I can to make ends meet. I can assure you, there’s nothing magical about these items, they’re simply a comfort to some folk.”
I had offended her. Interesting. I would have to brush up on local customs before I ended up turning the whole town against me with a few careless words.
I considered her for a moment before I finally replied. “Of course not. Well, I won’t keep you any longer. In fact,” I said, taking my coin purse out and extracting a few coppers in an effort to make amends. I set them down on the tabletop and held up the white rabbit’s foot. “I could do with a little extra luck.”
Her expression was guarded as she picked up the coins and pocketed them. “Thank you very much, Sir. Best of luck to you.”
I nodded and walked away. I had meant no harm, but Miss Lafay had obviously taken offense at my friendly questions and gentle teasing. Apparently, English women did not know how to flirt.
I pushed my unruly hair back from my face and strode towards the castle. I had a banquet in my honour to get ready for, and a betrothal to the prince’s daughter. I didn’t need a lowly widow to laugh at my jokes or return my friendliness. I had everything I wanted, or I almost did. After tonight, my station would be confirmed and all in the Royal Forests would know about it. Perhaps I would return to the market in full uniform and show Miss Lafay who she was reckoning with. The High Sheriff, that was who.
