Lady Thief
Page 38
I didn’t ever remember seeing dancing much at Leaford, but I were shocked by how common it seemed. Granted, the village folk held each other close and tight when they started to dance wild and fast to music, and Prince John left a much more respectable distance between him and his wife, but they were hopping and kicking and turning about, clasped at the hand, like anyone were wont to do round a fire.
Other nobles joined in, and Winchester asked me quiet if I should like to dance.
“I don’t much know how,” I said to him. “Another night, when I’ve watched a fair bit.” I smiled. “Or perhaps when they all think me less wild. Though if you could help me with the chair, your Grace, I wouldn’t mind making a slip of it,” I said.
He chuckled. “Of course, my lady,” he said, and graciously stood. “Lord Leaford, permit me?” he asked of Gisbourne.
Gisbourne waved his hand. Hawk-eyed, he watched as I stood, but Winchester offered me his hand like we were to dance and led me off until Gisbourne looked away.
Winchester kissed my hand. “You’re free, little bird. Fly as you will.”
I bobbed a curtsy to him and quit the hall.
The door I had chosen led out to the upper bailey, and the night were warmer than some, with a crisp smell to it that probably meant snow. There were a page at the door that called me “milady,” and I sent him to fetch my cloak from my chambers. And he went.
Seemed there were loads of useful tricks for noble folks.
I weren’t halfway across the bailey when the page brought it to me, settling the warm weight on my shoulders. “Thank you,” I told him.
“Milady.”
I walked closer to the gaps in the bailey wall—meant for archers and the like—that looked out onto the town. I heard the snow crunch a bit and looked back toward the boy. He were just standing there, watching me.
“Are you from round here, or do you travel with the prince?” I asked him.
“I’m in the earl’s household, milady,” he said, showing me his tunic. As if that meant something to me. I knew most lords branded their servants, but I knew little of the colors and he didn’t have a coat of arms on it.
“Sorry, lad. Winchester, yes?”
He nodded.
“An excellent man. Is he a good master?”
“Excellent in all things that I’ve seen, milady.”
“Are you training to be a knight in his household?”
“Yes, milady.”
I rested my arms on the smooth stone ledge, imagining the months before when all the nobles, gussied up like I were now, rushed over to see smoke in the village below. I turned back to where the entrance to the prison stood, half hoping to see Gisbourne towering over me and Rob fighting him back, but it were silent and empty. So much had changed that night. Rob gave himself up to save me, gave me the first hope for his heart, and started me down a road that led to the cursed ring on my hand.
“Milady?” the page asked me.
“Hmm?” I looked to him, but he weren’t looking at me.
“Milady, do you hear that?”
Shaking free of the past, I listened. There were shouts and clanking, heavy clangs.
Fair awkward, I jumped up into the narrow, tilted window and leaned out, holding careful with my good arm. I leaned till I could feel the wind whip me and see the fuss.
“The gates,” I said, jumping down before he could help me or protest. “Come on, lad, the gates!”
Picking up my skirts with my one hand, I set to running, and he yelped and followed. We slid down the snow-slicked gauntlet to the second bailey, running over that yard to the next gauntlet.
Breaking onto the lower bailey, the gates were in full view, and it were mad. The gates were half lowered and the people were heaving against the guards with torches and twisted faces, screaming and crying and throwing food.
The castle guards were yelling to each other, barking to push the people back, keep them out of the castle, protect the prince. A layer of guards with drawn swords were setting up behind those with their armored hands on the people of Nottingham.
The food that were sailing over their heads were splattering in the snow. Bits, scraps, black-spotted potatoes, and other things I couldn’t quite name that smelled of rot without so much as a hot wind to carry it, and I knew what it were in an instant—the prince’s gift, his mighty bounty. Spoiled food and leftovers.
The gates lowered another notch.
My place weren’t never inside the castle, not while the people were being pushed back and abused.
My place weren’t never behind a line of men with their swords drawn who knew not what they were meant to protect.
My place were on the other side of the gates.
I took off running.
The guards may have called to me; they weren’t ready to hold back someone from behind them, and I broke through the armed guards with ease. I ran for the seam where common folk and guards were pushed together, and saw them heave their fists and elbows like arrows through the faces of the hungry and the poor. I saw blood and brutal injustice.
The gates slammed down not moments after I made it out, and the crowd surged against the portcullis, carrying me with it in the flicker of torches and dark.
I fought my way back until the crowd let me go, and behind the throng were other souls standing about, watching, clutching their children and keeping back.
“What happened?” I asked a full-cheeked woman, going to her three young girls and pulling my cloak off my shoulders and round them.
Other nobles joined in, and Winchester asked me quiet if I should like to dance.
“I don’t much know how,” I said to him. “Another night, when I’ve watched a fair bit.” I smiled. “Or perhaps when they all think me less wild. Though if you could help me with the chair, your Grace, I wouldn’t mind making a slip of it,” I said.
He chuckled. “Of course, my lady,” he said, and graciously stood. “Lord Leaford, permit me?” he asked of Gisbourne.
Gisbourne waved his hand. Hawk-eyed, he watched as I stood, but Winchester offered me his hand like we were to dance and led me off until Gisbourne looked away.
Winchester kissed my hand. “You’re free, little bird. Fly as you will.”
I bobbed a curtsy to him and quit the hall.
The door I had chosen led out to the upper bailey, and the night were warmer than some, with a crisp smell to it that probably meant snow. There were a page at the door that called me “milady,” and I sent him to fetch my cloak from my chambers. And he went.
Seemed there were loads of useful tricks for noble folks.
I weren’t halfway across the bailey when the page brought it to me, settling the warm weight on my shoulders. “Thank you,” I told him.
“Milady.”
I walked closer to the gaps in the bailey wall—meant for archers and the like—that looked out onto the town. I heard the snow crunch a bit and looked back toward the boy. He were just standing there, watching me.
“Are you from round here, or do you travel with the prince?” I asked him.
“I’m in the earl’s household, milady,” he said, showing me his tunic. As if that meant something to me. I knew most lords branded their servants, but I knew little of the colors and he didn’t have a coat of arms on it.
“Sorry, lad. Winchester, yes?”
He nodded.
“An excellent man. Is he a good master?”
“Excellent in all things that I’ve seen, milady.”
“Are you training to be a knight in his household?”
“Yes, milady.”
I rested my arms on the smooth stone ledge, imagining the months before when all the nobles, gussied up like I were now, rushed over to see smoke in the village below. I turned back to where the entrance to the prison stood, half hoping to see Gisbourne towering over me and Rob fighting him back, but it were silent and empty. So much had changed that night. Rob gave himself up to save me, gave me the first hope for his heart, and started me down a road that led to the cursed ring on my hand.
“Milady?” the page asked me.
“Hmm?” I looked to him, but he weren’t looking at me.
“Milady, do you hear that?”
Shaking free of the past, I listened. There were shouts and clanking, heavy clangs.
Fair awkward, I jumped up into the narrow, tilted window and leaned out, holding careful with my good arm. I leaned till I could feel the wind whip me and see the fuss.
“The gates,” I said, jumping down before he could help me or protest. “Come on, lad, the gates!”
Picking up my skirts with my one hand, I set to running, and he yelped and followed. We slid down the snow-slicked gauntlet to the second bailey, running over that yard to the next gauntlet.
Breaking onto the lower bailey, the gates were in full view, and it were mad. The gates were half lowered and the people were heaving against the guards with torches and twisted faces, screaming and crying and throwing food.
The castle guards were yelling to each other, barking to push the people back, keep them out of the castle, protect the prince. A layer of guards with drawn swords were setting up behind those with their armored hands on the people of Nottingham.
The food that were sailing over their heads were splattering in the snow. Bits, scraps, black-spotted potatoes, and other things I couldn’t quite name that smelled of rot without so much as a hot wind to carry it, and I knew what it were in an instant—the prince’s gift, his mighty bounty. Spoiled food and leftovers.
The gates lowered another notch.
My place weren’t never inside the castle, not while the people were being pushed back and abused.
My place weren’t never behind a line of men with their swords drawn who knew not what they were meant to protect.
My place were on the other side of the gates.
I took off running.
The guards may have called to me; they weren’t ready to hold back someone from behind them, and I broke through the armed guards with ease. I ran for the seam where common folk and guards were pushed together, and saw them heave their fists and elbows like arrows through the faces of the hungry and the poor. I saw blood and brutal injustice.
The gates slammed down not moments after I made it out, and the crowd surged against the portcullis, carrying me with it in the flicker of torches and dark.
I fought my way back until the crowd let me go, and behind the throng were other souls standing about, watching, clutching their children and keeping back.
“What happened?” I asked a full-cheeked woman, going to her three young girls and pulling my cloak off my shoulders and round them.
