Page 12

The next day, Bronwyn stood by the riverbank, watching the waters ebb and flow.

She sat on the cold ground, feeling the brittle soil break beneath her, and hugged her knees to her chest. There, a short distance across the river, sat the city of Lincoln, and her family’s bakery. Or what was left of it.

Since escaping the city during the Battle of Lincoln, she had neither seen nor heard anything of her family.

Nothing from her father or her stepmother or their apprentice, Wyot, a boy with a mop of blond hair and a love of honey cakes.

What of them? Were they alive? Were they well?

Did they miss her? Had they looked for her?

She watched and wondered. She wondered if she could go back.

“Penny for your thoughts,” a male voice said behind her.

She glanced back. It was Rupert, which instantly made her cheeks warm and her shoulders tense. He made her nervous, especially when he plopped himself down on the stunted grass next to her.

“Thinking of having a swim? It’s a bit cold for bathing,” he said with a grin.

She shook her head. She didn’t know when the last time she’d had a bath was.

She usually woke up early in the morning before dawn and swam in the river.

She’d come out shivering but clean, and despite smelling like pond, it was better than trying to swim in the daylight, when someone would always be watching.

And after long days of walking, cooking, cleaning, and sweaty work, she often felt dirty when the day was done.

“I was thinking about my family,” she said, her voice dull.

“Oh.” He sat quietly, not saying a word. Then, as many young men were wont to do, he took a bit of grass and played with it, fiddling as he bent and made it into a jumbled-up pile in his hands.

That was good about Rupert. He didn’t pry.

“I wonder if I could go back.”

“What do you mean? They’re just across the river. Of course you can.”

“But it’s hard to enter the city now. And I’m with the empress’s camp. I’m needed in the cooking tents. I can’t just leave.”

“Sure, you can,” Rupert said. “People leave all the time. Each night we spend camped out here, people leave.”

She stared at him, admiring his handsome face, his strong chin, before looking away. “Where do they go?”

“Anywhere but here. They go home, or to another town or village to start over. Some join Stephen’s forces. Bronwyn, there’s no one forcing you to stay. If you want to go, go.”

She looked down at the grass, the muddy riverbank. Could he truly say goodbye to her so easily? Once they parted, they might never see each other again, and she couldn’t bear that. “It doesn’t feel so easy as that.”

“It’s not,” another male voice said behind her.

She and Rupert looked up.

“Theobold,” Rupert said, with a touch of dislike.

“Rupert.” Theobold inclined his head. “Shouldn’t you be attending your master?”

“He is well enough.”

Bronwyn studied Rupert. His master, Sir Baldwin of Clare, had been captured at the battle and imprisoned with his lord, the king.

The men loyal to him were kept nearby, but not close enough to arrange any plots of escape or attack.

She wondered how often Rupert was allowed to see his master and how well attended the prisoners were.

“And the Lady Alice?”

Rupert blushed.

Bronwyn looked at Rupert, feeling her heart pound in her chest. She remembered Lady Alice thanking her for introducing them back in Lincoln, before the battle.

Rupert and Lady Alice had instantly enjoyed each other’s company, much to Bronwyn’s regret.

Had this truly grown into something more?

Was it so obvious that others had noticed?

Rupert tossed the blade of folded grass away and stood, brushing down his tunic and leggings. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Theobold stood by, hooking his fingers in his belt, along which hung a purse and a sheathed blade. “I only ask, as I assume she’s wondering where you are. I did not know you and Mistress Bronwyn were friends.”

Rupert shot him a dirty look. “We are.”

Bronwyn’s heart lifted. She moved to stand.

“We—I—” Rupert walked away, shaking his head, then turned. “Bronwyn, if you want to go visit your family, I’ll go with you. That’s what I wanted to say.”

Bronwyn and Theobold watched him disappear into the crowd of people. “Why did you have to interrupt like that?” she asked, hands on her hips.

His mouth curled into a smile. “Why does it matter to you? Do you like him?”

She turned her back and sat down, refusing to say more.

Theobold gave a light laugh and sat down beside her. “Never mind. I can guess the answer well enough. So why are you planning to go into the city?”

She picked up a blade of grass and began to shred it into tiny pieces before throwing it away. “My family is there. I mean, they were. I don’t know if they still are. But I want to go see.”

He was quiet. She realized he was thinking.

“But I’m part of the empress’s camp and don’t think I can just go into the city, especially now, after the battle.

I don’t know how easy it will be, and whether there’s anything still there.

I don’t even know if my family’s still alive.

” Her voice shook, and she blinked hard, surprised at the sudden tears in her eyes.

Theobold rubbed her arm. “Hey. It’s all right. Were they supporters of the king?”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “I don’t know.

We were caught up in a downright nasty business and…

” Suddenly, she found herself telling him everything almost, how an innocent order for expensive bread rolls had landed her father in jail and led to her working in the castle kitchens, tasked with finding a murderer.

“Then the battle happened and Lady Alice rescued us from prison and we got out of the castle, but it was such a mess, people everywhere, and we got separated and… and…” She let out a quiet sob. “That was the last time I saw my pa.” She swallowed and sobbed again.

He pulled her close and held her, rubbing her back as she wept.

It was the first time she’d cried for a long time, and he held her, not so tightly to hurt or be uncomfortable, but just to comfort her.

He held her like a man held a woman, and it was something she’d never experienced before.

It felt… nice. But grief, worry, and the emotion and fear of not knowing about her family’s whereabouts plagued her mind, and her body trembled as she cried.

He stroked her back with his right hand and murmured words of comfort in her ear, nonsensical noises, like one might calm a mewling animal or wild beast.

She cried and got his tunic damp with her tears, and then her sobs began to quiet, and she pulled away.

She blinked hard and wiped her eyes on her other sleeve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get your tunic wet.”

He looked down at the damp patch on his shirt. “Oh, that’s all right. It’ll dry. And I can just tell the men that I had women crying over me, which is true now.” He grinned.

Bronwyn laughed a little. It felt good to laugh. She needed it, and after her cry, she felt empty almost, like a limp rag that had been wrung out. She was tired and wanted to sleep. What to say?

His eyes looked full of concern. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I will be.” She got to her feet and wiped her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He stood. “So when are we going? You’ll need an escort.”

“I will? But it’s my home city.”

He gave a knowing look. “That’s just been under siege and retaken by the empress. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t be walking around the streets alone.”

She frowned at him. “But it’s my city.”

“Not anymore. It’s Empress Maud’s city now.”

She turned her head and watched the sun set, its golden rays fading to a sky blue before it sank below the horizon. The trees stood out stark and black against the sky, like grizzled reminders of winter—and of war.

Their eyes met, and Bronwyn felt something pass between them. She felt more aware of herself. “You’ll help me?”

“Yes. Just don’t do anything foolish. When do you want to go?”

“Tomorrow?”

“We’ll leave at first light.”