Chapter Sixteen #4
“You wouldn’t, would you? It’s because you’re just a servant.
A nobody, even if the empress likes you.
” He smirked. “Sir Robert’s time is done.
Now back off and pretend you never saw anything, unless you want to meet this.
” He pulled out a familiar savage-looking knife.
It reminded her of a sickle used to cut grass but with a longer blade.
Her eyes widened. “I know that blade.”
“’Course you do. It’s the one I stuck in the empress’s pillow. Gave her a real fright, hopefully. And I used it to cut that sheep’s head off. Not what the blade’s meant for, though. It’s a relic, taken off one of the Saracen fighters from the crusade. Nasty way to go.”
“But why? You’re loyal to the empress. Why harass her so?”
He grinned and played with the blade. “Because my master bade me to do it.”
Bronwyn’s mouth dropped open. “Your master. You mean… Sir Miles Fitzwalter?”
“The very same. How do you think he knew the empress’s whereabouts so often? He’s at her side at all times, and when he’s not, his spies are. He made it easy for me to slip in and carry out his plans. He was the one who placed Mistress Agatha in her service. She’s loyal to him. We all are.”
Things clicked in Bronwyn’s mind. “Your master wants to prevent Maud from winning the war. You’re playing both sides.”
“Now she understands.” He mimicked a slow clap with the blade in his hands.
“And what of Lady Susanna?”
“She and Mistress Agatha were the perfect spies for us. If Mistress Agatha didn’t play along, Lady Susanna would inform on her. She made sure Agatha did as she was told.”
“But wait. Mistress Agatha I knew was playing a part in this, but why did you try to kill the others? Why the brewer and Sister Joan?” Bronwyn asked.
“They’d seen me. They knew I was behind it.
The brewer knew because we’d been working together.
He didn’t believe I’d died, even if you did.
” Tristan grinned. “There are spies loyal to Sir Miles, even here. One of them let me in. I hid in the brewery. Then whenever I’d go down to the cells, the brewer would shout out about seeing me.
The nun was just a casualty of war. She saw me.
I couldn’t let her live. Same with Sir Robert. ”
“So that’s it, is it? You already came in here once, I found a bit of hops grain on him from you. Now you thought you’d just cut him down in his sleep?”
“It seems easier.” He wielded the blade.
“So that night when the empress wanted you to reveal who was behind these attacks on her, you faked your own death.”
“Couldn’t very well turn myself in, now could I?
Could’ve turned in one of the others, but then they might have given me away, and I couldn’t have people asking too many questions.
So I spooked one of the horses and when I heard the stableboy come near, I groaned and ran at the wall.
Actually knocked myself out there for a while.
Came to when I heard you all coming and so I played dead. The rest you know.”
“You won’t get away with this.” His mouth curved into a smirk. “You think you’re so smart, but you’re clueless. My master wants him dead, and I aim to please. I’ll give you till the count of ten, and then you’re next. Run, little Bronwyn. Run.”
She threw the blanket at him. Tristan laughed and tossed it away, but not before she’d closed the distance between them and launched herself at him, tangling him and her up in the blanket, and the knife of his.
He cursed as they tumbled to the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“What’s it look like?” She kicked at him and her knee met the blade. It tangled in the blanket but still cleaved through the cloth.
He punched her in the face and she snapped back, falling. Pain shot through her head like an arrow.
Tristan scrambled up and reached for the blade when she kicked with her long legs and got him in the gut. He lurched back and cursed. The squire reached for her as she scrambled, her feet tangling in the cloth. “Witch,” he said.
She moved. She had to protect Sir Robert. “Help!” she cried.
Some of the snores stopped. Bronwyn and Tristan froze, looking. “Help!” she called again. “Somebody help me!”
The snores started again as the people slept. Bronwyn cursed. Tristan laughed.
“Stupid girl. No one’s going to help you now.” He disentangled himself from the blanket and pulled out the knife. “You get in my way, you’ll die. You help me, maybe I’ll let you live.”
She stood in front of Sir Robert, who lay as if dead. She blinked hard. Was he dead already? Had Tristan succeeded? No, his chest rose and fell. She needed to stall for time. Anything to save Sir Robert’s life.
“Why does Sir Miles want him dead?”
Tristan circled around her, waving the Saracen knife from side to side. “Because the empress relies on him too much, and he won’t see reason. She was never supposed to be the Queen of the English, or rule. She should have stayed in France. Ruling is a man’s job.”
That raised Bronwyn’s ire, and from the knowing grin on Tristan’s face, that was his aim.
“But the empress is still alive.”
“For now. People have met with accidents before. Perhaps she’ll have a hunting accident.
Or drink too much and die in her sleep. Or maybe she’ll eat a bread roll, poisoned by the young cook whom she thought was so loyal to her.
Your head would end up on a spike before dinner. ” He grinned at the prospect.
“So Sir Miles would rule. But he’s just a constable,” Bronwyn said.
“A royal constable. And an earl. And a better military commander than her.”
She looked at him curiously.
Tristan tossed the blade from hand to hand. “You really don’t know, do you? He made a deal with Matilda. Eliminate Sir Robert and then he’ll take over. They’ll reach peace negotiations in days and in no time at all this anarchy will be over.”
“With Sir Miles at the head of her armies.”
“His own armies. Stephen will place him highly in his court.”
“So that’s why Sir Miles is doing all this.” She paused. “You were behind it all from the beginning. The notes. The knife in her bed. The sheep’s head. The fire. That was all you.”
“Well, not entirely me.”
“No, you blackmailed her taster, Agatha, to help you. And the brewer. He’d been drawing the rude pictures of the empress.”
He grinned and gave her a nod. “Well done. He was easy to convince. With any luck, he’ll be dead soon.”
Bronwyn realized then, “You’re not working alone still. You’ve had help this entire time.” She swallowed. “Lady Susanna. You took advantage of her affections and put them to good use. You made her think that you cared for her, as long as she helped you in your plan.”
“We’ve known each other long before Winchester. We just kept it a secret. She’s good at following orders.”
“Like locking Rupert and Theobold in the room the night before the empress’s coronation in London. That was on your order.”
“Now you’re getting it. She helps me. I give her a bit of what she wants. Win-win.”
He feinted and she dodged. He laughed. “You almost found me in the brewery down there, you know. Thought that little bump on the head would have sent you a message to stay away.” He lunged and she got in the way. His blade cut through the sleeve and bit into her skin. She felt the sting and hissed.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Tristan said. “The game’s up, Bronwyn. You tried to protect Sir Robert and failed. Now move aside. Otherwise, I’ll kill you.”
“What do you get out of all this?” She stepped back, bumping into Sir Robert’s pallet. She grabbed fistfuls of his thin blanket in her hands.
He stepped closer. “I rise higher. Get made a knight. Get lands of my own and a pretty rich girl to marry. I’m thinking Lady Alice would do. I’m bored of Lady Susanna.”
Bronwyn swallowed. The blade was almost at her throat. She threw the blanket at him, and he waved it aside with a cut of his blade.
“Lady Alice would never marry you.”
“Wouldn’t she? Especially when I say I caught you trying to kill Sir Robert and saved the day? People would do anything for a hero.”
“She’d never believe you.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have ways of making fine ladies do what I want.” He sneered.
Tristan lunged and Bronwyn did what she did best, according to most people around her. She got in the way.
His blade slipped past and grazed her side, but she kneed Tristan in the groin and shoved him back.
Their legs tangled together as she cried out, and she rammed his forehead with hers.
It hurt both parties, but she didn’t care, and she punched him, getting him in the nose.
Blood dripped freely from his nostrils, and he landed back on the floor.
Bronwyn leaned back against the bedframe and watched as Tristan slowly rose and wiped away blood on his chin. “Stupid brat. You’ll pay for this.” He spat out a mouthful of blood.
She started to kick back when a hand gripped her right shoulder.
“I’ve got this, girl,” Sir Robert said, his voice weak. He held a small blade in his other hand and threw it at Tristan. He missed.
Tristan let out a triumphant laugh, when at that moment, the guards thundered into the room, led by Sir William of Ypres, shouting and aiming their spears. Tristan slowly raised his hands up in defeat.