Chapter Eleven
Bronwyn’s mouth dropped open. It was him. The man whose pale skin and flirtatious smile had filled her dreams, with dark eyes that glittered like the night sky. She hurried to his cell and touched the bars. “What are you doing here?”
Seeing her, his eyes lit up. He moved to touch her hands and stopped himself. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” she asked.
“No. Just a few cuts and bruises. My lord fared well enough.” He shot a smile over his shoulder. “We gave them hell.”
“What is going on here?” Queen Matilda’s voice sounded behind them.
Bronwyn turned around and dropped her gaze. “I know him, Your Grace.”
“Who is he?”
“My squire.” A gravelly voice came from within the cell.
Bronwyn watched as a familiar middle-aged man stepped forward. He wore chainmail and armor and bore no weapon as he moved with a stiff, heavy gait. His eyes missed nothing. “Robert of Gloucester, Your Grace.” He paid the queen a short bow. It was respectful—just.
The queen’s eyes widened. “You. Well, well. We do have impressive prisoners, indeed. I didn’t believe my men when they told me.” Her smile filled Bronwyn with dread. “My dear Sir Robert, your mistress has left you. She has quit her castle, and this city, and abandoned you all.”
Sir Robert’s face could have been carved from stone.
“She is now on the road to Gloucester. She does not care about you. She makes no move to rescue you. And why should she? You have done a passable job of keeping my armies at bay, but no longer. She is lost without you, and I suspect, will not be able to drum up a force to fight back.”
“She will, Your Grace. The empress always does,” Robert said.
The queen’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. We will see. I do hope you find your surroundings comfortable, Sir Robert. You will be our guest for some time.” She walked out.
Bronwyn hung back and waited for the ladies and the guards to pass. She turned to Sir Robert and Theobold. “What will happen?”
Sir Robert glanced at her. “You again. You’re always around. I’m surprised you survived this long.”
Bronwyn didn’t dignify that with an answer and instead looked at Theobold, who was watching her. He said, “They’ll try to ransom Sir Robert. See if the empress will pay for his safe return.”
“And if not? What if what she says is true, and the empress left?”
“She did leave the city,” Sir Robert said. “That was our plan. We were watching her rearguard when William of Ypres’s men broke our line. Took us by Stockbridge, at the River Test.” He settled back on a bed of straw in his cell. “She has done nothing we did not plan for.”
Bronwyn met Theobold’s eyes. “How are you?”
“I am well. Better now.” He smiled, and it filled her with warmth.
“Stop flirting, Theobold,” said his master. “Leave the servant girls alone.”
Theobold stepped back. His smile faltered just a little. “I am glad you are well.”
“So am I. I mean, I’m glad that you are well. I…” Bronwyn started.
“I thought I’d find you down here,” a familiar voice said.
Bronwyn turned. “Rupert.”
He strode over and clapped her on the arm. “Good to see you again, Bronwyn.”
She tried to ignore the pleasurable tingle his touch sent through her skin. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re walking around free.”
“He’s a bloody traitor is what he is,” Theobold said.
Rupert shot Theobold an unfriendly look and glanced back at Bronwyn. “I am free. My master is in Bristol Prison with His Grace the King. I served the other side for a short time, but when the battle came, I left and rejoined the queen’s forces.”
“He’s a deserter,” Theobold said.
“I returned to my liege,” Rupert said hotly.
“Your liege is in prison. It’s a bit rich to find you walking around like you own the place,” Theobold said.
Rupert squared up to the bars, and Theobold faced him. If there weren’t iron bars between them, Bronwyn would guess they were about to fight. Rupert sneered. “And yet you’re stuck in there, while I’m out here. Hope the straw and the rats are to your liking.”
Theobold glared at him. “At least I’m not a traitor.”
Rupert’s hands curled into fists. He turned and put a hand on Bronwyn’s arm. “Come on, Bronwyn. Let’s go. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
Bronwyn nodded and let him guide her away, conscious that his hand drifted to her lower back. She looked over her shoulder at Theobold, who watched, his expression unreadable. But he watched, and that was enough. He was well; he was alive.
Once outside the jail and back up the stone steps, Bronwyn took a few deep breaths of fresh air and felt relieved. It was oppressive, dark, and dank down there.
“I’m glad you’re well.” Rupert removed his hand from her lower back. Bronwyn felt its loss.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Nothing to worry about. Come, I’ll walk you to the kitchens.”
She frowned. Why was it that when a person said there was nothing to worry about, that was exactly what she did?
Rupert ran a hand through his dirty, unwashed, blond hair.
It hung in unruly waves past his shoulders.
She noticed his broad, bony shoulders and briefly imagined him working on a farm, with a team of oxen or horses pulling a plough.
She smiled at the thought and then remembered where they were.
What they were. They were friends, and he was in a romantic relationship with Lady Alice, even if they were on opposite sides of this war.
Rupert walked up the stone steps and waited until they’d passed by a few servants. “Did you tell the queen any secrets from your time with the empress?” Bronwyn asked.
“Nothing that she found useful. She’s displeased with me. Wants me to continue allying myself with the other men and report back to her.”
“Like a spy.”
He raised his eyes and met hers. “Is that what you think?”
Bronwyn said, “I think she’s playing you. Like a chess piece.”
He bristled. “And what do you know of chess?”
“I know enough to see when I’m being used. Like you are. Aren’t you tired of it?”
“I’m not being used. I serve my queen,” Rupert said, crossing his arms.
“And what about Lady Alice? She’s been worried sick about you.”
“Ah. That…” He rubbed the side of his face. “I don’t know. She knows we have different loyalties. We’ll make it work somehow.”
Bronwyn cocked her head at his good nature and sunny disposition.
He seemed so sure it would all work out in the end.
But unlike her, he hadn’t suffered a loss.
He hadn’t lost his entire family from this war.
He traded his service and risked his life for two rulers to play with, like children with a toy.
Would he throw his life away for a principle, or if his queen asked him to?
“I should go,” he said. “Glad you’re all right.”
“Point out where the kitchens are,” Bronwyn said.
“Oh, yeah. This way.”
They began walking.
“Rupert,” Lady Alice’s voice called from down the corridor.
Rupert looked. “Alice.”
Bronwyn bit her lip as Lady Alice ran toward them as fast as she could. She stopped in front of them, a wide smile on her face. “You’re alive. I was so worried.”
Rupert reached out awkwardly and patted her arm, then ran a hand along the right side of his face. “I’m all right.”
“Your hair is longer. I don’t like it. You should cut it. You look like a ruffian. I hardly recognized you.”
Rupert laughed, his gaze darting to hers. “You’re looking well, Lady Alice.”
“Tolerably well, considering. What are you two doing here?”
“I came across Bronwyn in the jail and thought I’d show her the way to kitchens.”
“You didn’t know I was here?” Lady Alice asked.
He shook his head.
That earned Bronwyn a hard look from Lady Alice. “You should have told him I was here, Bronwyn. It’s the least you could have done. It’s what a friend would have done.” She sniffed.
“Sorry, I was talking to Theobold when he came in.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose I can forgive that.” Alice crossed her arms beneath her chest, earning an appreciative look from Rupert. “Well, I’m here now. But I hardly know where anything is. You will escort me.”
“The queen knows you’re here?” he asked.
“It was she who let us out of the dungeon. And quite rightly, too. Ladies shouldn’t be in jail cells.” Lady Alice raised her chin.
“Or cooks, it seems.” He grinned at Bronwyn, then said to Lady Alice, “Let me show Bronwyn to the kitchen and then I’ll show you around. Isn’t the queen expecting you?”
“I dare say she is, but this place is like a rabbit warren. I have no idea where she might be. We got separated when she went to use the privy.”
Bronwyn smiled. She doubted Lady Alice knew much about rabbits, and even less about how they lived. “You two should go. I’m sure I’ll find my way.”
Lady Alice nodded in approval.
“If you’re sure,” Rupert said.
“Yes, do hurry. I’m sure they need more cooks, now that there’s more of us here,” Lady Alice said. “Rupert, the queen is expecting me. I need your help.”
Rupert nodded. “All right. Bronwyn?”
She turned.
“I’m here if you need anything.”
Bronwyn nodded to them both and walked away, just as Lady Alice wrapped her arm around Rupert’s. Bronwyn eventually found the kitchens, but it did take her a while. Lady Alice was right; the place was confusing, and in the end, she’d had to follow her nose.
The kitchen was led by a Master Christopher Langley, a tall, thin man with a pointed nose, angular features, and wiry arms. He moved with an awkward, frenetic energy and looked down his nose at Bronwyn.
“So, the empress sends us her cast-offs, eh? Just what I need, another mouth to feed. But we always want more hands scrubbing pots.” His grin showed missing and yellowed teeth.
Bronwyn’s shoulders slumped. Once again, she would have to prove herself, starting with the scullery boys. Her fingers would ache and feel soggy and raw from scouring dirty pots and pans, but it would be worth it. Taking on the kitchen’s lowest jobs was better than rotting in a cell.