The Crystal Heart by Katherine Deauxville

Author:Katherine Deauxville
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, love, heart, historical, child, lord, crystal, medieval, servant, homage, guild master, overlord
Publisher: Highland Press Publishing

Chapter 16

It was the other troubadour, surprisingly, who sought Emmeline out, and not the gold courier.

The meadow was a tangle of mounted knights, wagons, and servants, all vying for the one single road that led into town. Thomas à Becket had already taken his leave of the Lord and Lady of Morlaix and ridden away, pleasantly engaged in the company of the Wrexham sheriff, his friends and their wives. But the vanguard they left behind strongly resembled a battlefield rout.

Niall fitzJulien hurried off at once to the hay fields. Emmeline came down into the ward to help the seneschal, Baudri Torel. Some of Becket’s stragglers had hitched up a wagon to a pair of mules, claiming it was theirs, and were trying to drive it away. The troubadour came up and stood beside her as Torel and some Morlaix knights unhitched the mules in spite of the Londoners’ protests.

Gervais Russel smiled. “This is nothing—it is far worse when the king travels. King Henry is devoted to knowing every city and hamlet in his kingdom, but nothing is arranged ahead of time except the lodgings for the sovereign and his lady queen. Everyone else forages as best they can. The magnates, the ministers, the high churchmen fare passably well, but for the rest of us it is anarchy, and the devil take the hindmost. I have seen knights with drawn swords fighting it out for a place to sleep in some byre or hedgerow.”

Emmeline said nothing. Becket’s men seemed to be close to blows over the wagon, which was plainly one from Morlaix. She remembered seeing it, its sides painted with clouds and angels, in the Ascension procession. A crowd had gathered. Gotselm, jamming his helmet on his head, came running out of the barracks, shouting.

“It is not theirs,” Emmeline said, turning away. She was needed in the kitchen where the cooks were in despair over what was left of their food stores. “Plainly someone has stolen their cart, and they cannot leave without one.”

The troubadour followed her. One of Becket’s servants ran up and took him by the arm, saying they were late and the chancellor looked for him to sing while they traveled to Chirk. Russel shook him off. “Milady,” he said, catching up with her, “a word with you.”

She gave him a sidewise look. She didn’t want his company. On edge all morning looking for the gold courier in his minstrel disguise, she dreaded his coming to question her about what had happened to Cadwallader’s gold. But there’d been no sight of him. She couldn't imagine what this other one wanted.

He planted himself in front of her, “I-I, madame—milady—I have heard you have some skill in goldworking.”

She stopped, thinking it was some sort of joke. She didn’t doubt the gossiping Londoners made fun of her, the Lady of Morlaix. A goldsmith’s former wife.

He said quickly. “Nay, my profoundest respects, this is a matter of great importance to me. I would not seek you out, Milady Emmeline, if I did not need to ask your generous aid.

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