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T heobold strained and blocked as his opponent’s wooden sword sliced at him in an impressive arc.

The sharp clap of the other squire’s sword against his sent a small shock up his right arm.

He used his small, wooden shield to block and slice at his opponent, when the youth stepped away.

The squire stopped, looking past Theobold at something.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you fighting back?” Theobold asked.

“There’s a woman here. I think she’s waiting for you.” The other squire motioned with his sword.

Theobold turned and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Bronwyn? Oh. Never mind.” He spotted Lady Morwenna watching and ignored her. “We can still practice.”

“I’m tired, anyway,” the squire said.

They bowed to one another and the squire left him as the small crowd of knights, squires, pages, and other servants dissipated. Two other squires took up their discarded wooden swords and shields and took their places on the grass.

For a wet day in March, it wasn’t the warmest, but practicing short swords outside did give Theobold the chance to burn off some energy. Theobold stood back and to the side as the other squires began to fight.

Lady Morwenna came to him. “Hullo.”

He grunted.

“I wanted to talk to you. Can we talk?”

“You already are.”

“You’re being beastly,” she said with a frown.

He shrugged. He didn’t care what Lady Morwenna thought. He’d hoped it would be Bronwyn. Instead, he was faced with her, with whom he had history, and whom he didn’t particularly care for. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to talk here. Can we go somewhere?” she asked.

“Fine. I need to check on the horses, anyway.” He walked away from the group, leaving her to walk after him. His long legs easily ate up the ground at a fast pace, and she had to hurry to keep up.

“Slow down,” she said.

He slowed.

“I think the castle isn’t safe anymore. Could you… help me travel home?” she asked.

He glanced at her. Gone was her overabundance of self-confidence, her coy and flirtatious smiles. Her round, doughy face was thinner, and her dark eyes looked haunted. Shadows hung beneath her eyes, as if she’d hadn’t had a restful night’s sleep.

“Why do you want to go home?” he asked. “The castle is plenty safe. Safer than that camp we traveled from, anyway. And there are plenty of knights here to protect you. Besides, Stephen and his men are on their way to Bristol. No harm will come to you here.”

“I just want to go home. Will you take me? I can’t make the journey alone.”

He cocked his head. “Give me a good reason why. I’m not saying no , but I’ll have to ask permission from my master and he’ll want to know.”

“I just…” She looked around as they approached the stables and tossed her head. “Fine. If it’s too much trouble, never mind. I clearly asked too much of you.”

“Lady Morwenna, what is it? Why are you… Are you scared of something?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

She paused. “No, of course not.”

He faced her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to visit my family.”

“So early in the year, when the empress needs you?”

“She doesn’t. She has ladies enough.”

“She lost Lady Eleanor and her own life was threatened just the other day. She would want to know why you would abandon her like this.”

“I’m not abandoning anyone,” she declared. “I’m just looking out for myself.”

“Tell me why,” he pressed. “Cousin, what’s frightened you?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He waited, then when she remained silent, he asked, “What were you doing inside the tent the night Lady Eleanor died?”

“What? Nothing. I wasn’t there. I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did Bronwyn smell your rosewater perfume?”

“I don’t know. Her nose must be mistaken. I wasn’t there,” Lady Morwenna said, her head held high.

“Lady Morwenna, we have known each other too long. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not.” She turned her head.

“I think you are.” He entered the stables and approached the stall with his master’s horse. “Once upon a time, we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“That time ended long ago,” she said bitterly. “You made it clear you weren’t interested in me. Has that changed?”

Her question hung in the air. He breathed in and glanced at her. He gave a stiff shake of his head.

The rejection seemed to sting her like the prick of a bee. “I see. Well, then, I see no need to tell you anything.”

“Tell me what is bothering you and I can try to help.”

“You can’t do anything. You and that kitchen maid of yours can’t do anything. You’re always skulking around corners together. Doesn’t she know you’re only getting close to her in order to watch her, in case she does something suspicious?”

There was a soft gasp.

Lady Morwenna’s head turned. “Did you hear that?”

“No.” He had, but he decided to pretend he hadn’t.

It was Bronwyn, he was sure of it. Who else would be lurking in the shadows, spying?

He entered the horse stall, closed the door behind him, and began brushing down the horse.

His chin dipped low to his chest. Bronwyn now knew of the empress’s order. Would she still speak to him?

Lady Morwenna wrinkled her nose. “You don’t really like her, do you?”

“You’ve already declared it to be a farce,” he said.

She smirked. “As I thought. You always were such a flirt, Theobold. I… Have you ever fallen for the wrong person?”

He looked at her. “What do you mean?”

A door creaked, and a horse nickered softly. Someone else was in the stables. It had to have been Bronwyn. He’d speak to her shortly and explain. Maybe with a kiss.

“What was that?” she asked.

“A groom or stablehand, probably. It doesn’t matter.”

Her expression clouded. “I should go.”

He put a hand out, barring her escape. “Lady Morwenna. Tell me what is wrong. I can tell something troubles you. What is it?”

“Nothing.” She shivered and stood closer to him. Her eyes were questioning, assessing him. “I can’t tell you. I thought it was nothing, but I didn’t realize until I was too mixed up in things. And now it’s too late. I can’t get out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you understand? If I breathe a word of this they’ll kill me, Theobold.

Me. The little push over the parapet this morning was a warning.

Thank God that maid Bronwyn found me or I might have died.

But then they don’t care about who gets hurt.

I used to think I was important, but now… I’m afraid.”

“Of whom?” he asked.

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m terrified I’ll end up dead, just like my maidservant. They were behind her death, I’m sure of it. I was training her, you know. Now I have to find someone else.”

He cocked his head. Her passive and emotionless way of speaking about her dead maid disturbed him. Had she so little care for her previous maid?

“What are you mixed up in, Lady Morwenna?” he asked.

“Nothing, I—” She stopped and hissed, “If you won’t help me, then be smart and ignore what’s happening right under your nose, like you always do.”

“Lady Morwenna…” he started. “Tell me what this is all about. I can help you.”

“Oh, Theobold, you can’t even help yourself.” She gave a little laugh, ducked beneath his arm, and quit the stables.

Theobold didn’t go after her. He waited a moment, then turned toward the direction of the sounds he’d heard.

He stepped quietly, his boots barely making a sound on hardpacked earth, until he found the other person in the stables, calmly stroking a horse.

He tensed. It wasn’t Bronwyn at all. His shoulders scrunched up by his neck.

It wasn’t her, but someone certainly close to her, who could reveal everything. “What are you doing here?”

“I like to go to the stables. Brushing down horses helps me think. They’re better than people sometimes, even if they smell worse.” She sniffed.

“And how much did you hear?” he asked.

Lady Alice’s eyes were dark and accusing as she tossed her glossy, black hair. “Enough.”

“Are you going to tell Bronwyn?”

“I should. But then from what I heard, you don’t care for her, so perhaps she won’t think anything of it.”

He gazed down at his boots.

“Why do you profess to not care for her at all, when it’s so obvious you do?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Why do you pretend you aren’t friends, when you so clearly care for one another?”

They stared at each other, neither wishing to look away first.

“I heard you were attacked, back at the camp. Bronwyn told me. And about hiding the crown.”

“Of course she did. Ever the opportunist.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What did they want?” he asked.

“Some man came after me and demanded to know where the crown was. I didn’t know. Bronwyn had hidden it at that point, and I was scared, so I gave him the name of Lady Morwenna’s maid.” She shuddered. “I didn’t know they’d kill her. I just didn’t want Bronwyn to get caught.”

“You wanted to save your own skin, you mean.”

She glared at him.

“And hers, I see,” he added. “You were protecting your friend.”

“We are not friends. Friends do not betray each other.”

“What did she do?”

“She and I knew of the plot to help Stephen escape, but not which guards were helping him. I told Rupert a little, teeny, tiny white lie about a plot to kill Stephen on the road after his escape, which led to Stephen’s own man ratting him out and the guards being discovered.”

“They were gutted and hung out on the parapets. We found them this morning.”

Lady Alice stared. “I know. I figured they would be punished. I didn’t know they’d be fodder for the crows.”

“Let me guess. Bronwyn didn’t want you to lie to Rupert?”

“No. She thought it was a bad idea. But she told Rupert about it, and he and I had a falling out. So I told Bronwyn we were done. Our acquaintance is at an end.”

“That is a shame. From where I’m standing, you could use a friend right now,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lady Alice snapped, “What do you know about it? You belittle your relationship with her every chance you get. At least I am honest with her and don’t toy with her emotions.

It is not right, you know, what you are doing.

You take her on horse rides and even act like you are courting, then pretend she is nothing to you in public.

It is hurtful. It is deceitful, and…” She looked away.

Two spots of color rose on her cheeks. “It is not right.”

“You disapprove of me. Of our relationship. Because I am a squire and she is a maid.”

“I disapprove of your treatment of her. She is more than just a kitchen maid—you know that. So much more. And even if we are not friends now, she… Look. If you are going to do nothing other than be warm and caring toward her one day and cold and rude the next, I’d rather you stay away from her completely, thank you.

She’s a strong young woman. She’ll get over it. ”

“Quite a defense for someone who isn’t your friend.”

“Just heed my words, squire.” She huffed.

He couldn’t think of what to say, so he left.

That evening, he learned from the men that the empress had received word from Henry of Blois, King Stephen’s younger brother and the bishop of Winchester, that he had accepted the empress’s plans and would call a council at Winchester shortly to discuss her coronation as queen.

The empress’s reminder to Theobold stuck in his mind. The empress was in a good mood that evening, which was good for him, as he’d learned nothing more about the culprits behind all of the suspicious activity as of late. But that didn’t stop her from asking.

She motioned to him at the evening meal and when he came to her, she asked quietly, “Have you found who killed Sir Edward and Lady Eleanor yet?”

“No, Your Grace. But Mistress Bronwyn and I are working on it.”

“Good. And has she done anything suspicious we should be aware of?”

“No, Empress. I believe she is innocent,” he told her.

“Very good. I think it was wrong of me to tell you to get close to her. Before he left, de Gernon was full of gossip, saying you two were a romantic pair and that they’d caught you both together in one of my tents at camp. Is that true?”

“Yes, but I was only watching her. She thought she might catch whoever killed Lady Eleanor.”

Her fair expression clouded for a moment, the slight pang of pain passing over her noble, feminine features like a raincloud. “I see. Well, there is no need for you to continue your attentions to her, I’d say. When we return from Winchester I had better know more, Theobold.”

“Winchester, Your Grace?”

“Yes. You and Sir Robert will accompany me, along with a handful of my men. We go to Winchester to meet with Henry of Blois, the Bishop of Winchester. He has the pope’s ear and is pleading my case to have the church formally recognize me as the rightful ruler.

There will be a sort of coronation pre-ceremony, ahead of my official coronation in London. ”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Do not look so downtrodden, Theobold. I am sure there are as many young ladies to charm in Winchester as there are here. Pack a bag. We leave tomorrow.” She motioned for him to leave her.

His heart beat in his throat. He needed to talk to Bronwyn. But how, and what did he say? He thought on this as he looked after his master at dinner and afterward, making sure his master’s bags were packed and ready.

Inside his master’s room, his thoughts ran wild. He wasn’t sure how best to speak to her, which was odd, as she was just a young woman. He’d spoken and charmed young women since he’d turned fourteen. But Bronwyn was different.

It wasn’t until he approached his master’s bags that he noticed that they were already packed, but badly so. The clothes were so badly stuffed in the bags and hung out, it was a poor servant who’d tried to assist, clearly. They didn’t know Sir Robert’s preference for tidiness.

Theobold took up the first bag and pulled the jumble of clothes out, then began folding a spare shirt and jerkin into a bag.

His hand brushed against something and he paused.

He felt in the folds of the jerkin, brushing against not one, but two wooden handles.

Strange. These were like wooden toggles, connected by a strong thread, like wire.

He tensed and swallowed. He gingerly picked them up and held them in the light, a lump rising in his throat.

The door to Sir Robert of Gloucester’s room opened and in stepped his master. “Oi, Theobold. I meant to say—what is that?” He stared.

There in Theobold’s hands, dangled a garrote.