A Bloody Field by Shrewsbury by Edith Pargeter

Author:Edith Pargeter [Pargeter, Edith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2010-11-01T07:00:00+00:00

9

It was past ten on a fine, moonless night when knuckles rapped sharply at the shutters of the lowest window on Rhodri Parry’s house. The summons might easily have gone unheard if Julian had not been making her rounds before sleeping, as she did with more than usual care on these evenings when she was left in the house alone. She was just passing through the undercroft to secure the bolt and latch on the yard door when the knocking came, and she halted with held breath and reared head to listen. She was safe enough within, short of fire and sword the house was a fortress, and there was no need for her to open; but she knew that she would open. Perhaps in hope that God was opening another door to her; perhaps out of a sense of her own destiny which would not let her refuse any challenge.

She crossed the yard to the wicket-gate in the cart entrance; and as she put her hands to the wooden bolt she heard the length and lightness of the step without, quiet but not stealthy, and knew it. She had never doubted that some day he would come again.

She drew open the wicket gladly, and reached a hand to guide him as she had done once before; and as his fingers closed strongly on hers she heard him draw breath for the shadow of a laugh, in pure pleasure at the ease of their confederacy. But neither of them spoke until they were safe inside the undercroft, and the door closed after them against the world.

“My lord, you’re dearly welcome! I’m charged with a message to you ever since Iago was here in September, if I’d had any way of reaching you.”

“From Edmund?” he said eagerly.

“No, but concerning him. It may do as well. The Lord Owen sends you word he’s well healed of his wounds, and in good heart. I did make shift, at least,” she said, “to pass on the news to your lady, by a clothier who trades as far north as Newcastle, in a little piece of embroidery. But he’d be some weeks on the way, I doubt if she has it yet. I knew no other safe way.”

“God bless you for the word and the thought!” he said warmly. “You ease my heart of the worst load before I so much as ask.” They stood face to face, close and kind, in the dimness at the foot of the staircase, only a thin chink of light coming down to them from the solar, the yellow of a candle and the last gleams of a fire burning low. “Julian, I need Iago now on just such an errand. Is he here?”

He did not even know that he had used her name for the first time, as simply as he used Iago’s, for she was one in the brotherhood of those he respected and trusted. “I have letters for Owen and for Edmund, and the matter’s urgent. Iago said you should always know of his whereabouts if I needed him.

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