Wishwood by E B Wheeler

Author:E B Wheeler [Wheeler, E B]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rowan Ridge Press
Published: 2020-01-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I studied the blond hairs in my hand. Will Smithson had fair hair. I could not remember if he was taller than me, but his father was the local blacksmith, and if he was following his father’s trade, he would be strong.

“Thomas needs to know,” I said.

Ignacio nodded. “We will tell him.”

We walked to the study, and Ignacio tapped on the door.

“What is it?” Thomas’s annoyance was clear through the door.

“We need to speak to you, mi sobrino,” Ignacio called

Thomas opened the door and glared at us with mistrust. Ignacio glanced at me, and I straightened.

“Someone tried to attack you,” I said.

“You found another trap?” Thomas looked faintly amused.

“Nay. They attacked me. In your room. I pulled out their hair.” I showed him the golden locks. He glanced at my hair and then at his uncle.

“I heard the struggle but saw no one,” Ignacio said.

“They were robbing you. Or lying in wait for you.”

Thomas frowned. “I will consider this.”

He shut the door on us.

I wanted to scream at him, but instead, I stormed up to the gallery. On my way, I passed Margaret, who clutched a bundle of carrots from the garden. She watched me with wide eyes. Well, the servants were bound to know eventually, and perhaps they should be aware of the danger lurking in Wishwood.

Ignacio found me upstairs a few minutes later, staring at the chessboard.

“The bishop is a powerful piece,” Ignacio said.

“Aye, but the knight can take you unawares.”

He sat across from me. “There was a disturbance in the village?”

“A fight between the villagers and Lord Blacknall’s workmen. Sebastian and I broke it up. I wish I could convince Thomas to get involved, but he does not seem to care.” About the village, about his safety, about me.

“I want to take him away from here,” Ignacio said, his dark eyes angry. “Yet I have nowhere to go. I do not understand why this Lord Blacknall is his guardian, who does not care for him. I suppose it is because I am Spanish.”

“You truly don’t understand?” I looked at him with sympathy. “It is because his ancestor who bought this land bought it from the king. Sometimes people were able to get the land more freely, but often it came with a promise of knight-service.”

“Thomas is not a knight, nor was his father.”

“He’s not. It is a… a trick the king used to make his landowners dependent on him—to get money.”

“The root of all evil!”

“It does seem that way. But it means that the king has an interest—part ownership if you will—in Thomas and his lands.”

“Is this why strangers come and steal our timber?”

“It is. The king has given the care of Thomas and his lands over to Lord Blacknall. He did the same with mine.”

“This is not right.”

“It is not. Some people find a way to protect their children…” I stopped as an old ache twinged in my chest. My father had not even tried to make some provision to hide me from the king’s searchers.

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