The Princess Who Rode on a Mule Read online

  Lord Vardis’ men made haste to raise their halberds, but the King spoke up loudly and bade them attend their master. He then commanded his own men to seize Robin, and take him to the Tower, where he would be held for trial.

  “What is the charge?” gasped Hadley, but her father did not answer.

  ~~~~

  An hour later, Lord Vardis remained insensible, despite the surgeon’s best art. None knew whether he would live or die.

  “As for Master Cope,” whispered the servants, “’Tis a surety that he shall be tried for murder, treason, or both. Mayhap he shall be hanged!”

  And where was Princess Hadley? “Gone a’riding on her mule, no doubt to purge her mind of melancholy. Two bridegrooms felled within a single day, poor lady.”

  But Hadley was thinking of neither the Baron nor Lord Vardis as her mule plodded along the rough path to the Tower. “I shall ask to see Robin,” she thought. “And if the guard says ‘Nay,’ I shall give him all the coins in my purse…..Though there are not many. Mayhap he shall want more.”

  When she reached the Tower, however, she was surprised to find herself alone. The massive iron door was locked fast, but left unguarded. And when she beat upon it with her fists, there was no answer.

  She stepped back and looked up. The windows were barred. Would it be best if she waited until the guard returned? Or should she go in search of him?

  She stood for a few moments in this state of uncertainty, until suddenly jolted from her reverie by a raucous cry.

  ~~~~

  As he quaffed ale, Robin Cope bent a kindly eye on the men who had, upon the King’s orders, taken him from Court. They had all been within a stone’s throw of the Tower when they were set upon by the band of ruffians who now held them captive. None of the courtiers had been harmed; nonetheless, they were full of fear, and their tankards sat untouched upon the floor. The Tower guard, less fortunate, lay on a pallet, with a grievous wound to his leg.

  “And yet he shall live,” thought Robin, “For these men take prodigious care of him.”

  E’en now, two rebels were washing and binding the very wound that they or their friends had inflicted.

  The rebels themselves were marked by prior misadventures. One had lost part of an ear, and the other had a cloth wrapped round one arm.

  As for Robin, he was not much injured, though he had been cuffed and jostled. But the floor was hard and cold to sit upon, and he misliked the chains around his ankles. Mayhap they would remove his fetters one day, or mayhap no. He had slain a man, but he could not regret it. She, at least, was safe from that blackhearted wretch….But what foul sound was that?

  “Obstinate maid,” he muttered. “I pray they deal gently with thee.” The rebels moved to the window and gazed at the creature far below, which one vowed was a donkey, and the other said was a mule.

  ~~~~

  “Robin shall know now that I am nearby!” Hadley thought, as she hastened back to the tree to which her mule was tied. She stroked the beast’s neck, but it seemed affrighted, and would not be quieted. A fleeting movement caught her eye.

  “Guard?” she called, with quick-beating heart.

  A young man stepped out from behind a willow, his hands pressed tightly to his ears. The mule gave a final “Haw!” in the youth’s direction, then abruptly ceased lamenting, and dropped its muzzle to a green shoot that sprang up from the ground.

  “I know this beast!” exclaimed the youth, letting fall his hands. He had a good-natured, ruddy face, and the Princess recognized him at once. He was one of the men who had thrust her mule into the coach on the day she met Tom Browne. But what was concealed beneath his cloak?

  “Do you desire to go within the Tower, Mistress?” asked the youth.

  Hadley nodded. “He is not the guard,” she thought. “And yet he might render me aid.” She reached for her purse, intending to remove the coins that lay within, but her fingers, as if of their own volition, drew out her handkerchief, and unrolled it to reveal the tiny hawker’s bell.

  She did not expect what followed. The youth’s blue eyes opened wide, and he took from his cloak a large and gleaming bell of his own, and made it peal. The sound was so deep and pure that even the mule lifted its head to listen, while Hadley clasped her hands and trembled with joy. She closed her eyes for a moment.

  When she opened them, she found herself surrounded by men. Four pairs of eyes were fixed upon her face.

  “She is a Lady at Court,” said the youth. “I have seen her with Steward. And that infernal ass,” he added, giving the mule a dark look.

  “Bring you word from Master Browne?” asked an older man, his gray brows bristling.

  “’Nay…aye…I have come to see…the Steward,” said Hadley hesitantly. “Tom Browne…hath sent for him…and he is to be released forthwith.”

  The older man peered intently at Hadley’s flushed countenance and then at the small bell she held with trembling fingers. “Take her within,” he said abruptly.

  ~~~~

  Hadley was kept apart from the other prisoners and treated with greater courtesy. Her captors built a fire in her chamber, set a chair in front of the hearth, and spoke gently to her. They seemed to await Tom Browne. “One word from him, and we shall be released,” Hadley thought, “or we shall be slain.”

  He was not long in coming. Ere one hour had passed, Hadley saw a horse and rider approach the Tower, and a few minutes thereafter, Master Browne entered her chamber, accompanied by two other rebels. He was bearded now, and his tunic had seen rough use, but his gray eyes were as clear and keen as she remembered.

  “Well met,” he said, making a brief bow. “Delivered you my missive to the King?”

  Hadley flushed and would have spoken, but he shook his head and smiled. “’Tis no matter,” he said. “I took you for an honest lass, and indeed I think you be, but I did not know, until a furlong had come between us, that the King’s youngest daughter was wont to ride about the countryside astride a gray mule. And now you are my captive. What is to be done, I wonder.”

  “His voice is kind,” Hadley thought. “Yet he may deal harshly with us.”

  “Be not alarmed. None shall harm you. But I would hear why you seek out this Steward, whom some do call a murderer.”

  “’Tis a false report! Lord Vardis yet lives! And he did attack Robin Cope without just cause!”

  “I believe it. His Lordship is a tyrant. He hath caused much suffering.”

  “Aye, and there may be worse to come.”

  “Why say you so?”

  “You must ask Master Cope, for he knows more of the matter than I do.”

  “Steward is like to a mountain and speaks as little.”

  “I pray you…take me to him.”

  Tom Browne gave a signal, and his companions left the chamber, reappearing in a few minutes, with Robin between them. They held him fast by each arm, and endeavored to support his weight, but as his feet were yet bound by iron, he scarce could take a step without stumbling. Hadley let out a low cry.

  Robin lifted his heavy head and looked at her. “Thou shouldst not have come,” he said. To Tom Browne, he added, “My wife is a simpleton, and hath been so since birth. She understands little and speaks no sense. ‘Twould be well if you freed her, lest her kin seek her out.”

  “You slander the Princess! And yet she hath given a good report of you.”

  Robin scowled and looked away.

  “I would that we were friends,” said Master Browne. “Methinks you owe no fealty to this mad monarch—.”

  “—‘Tis true my father is mad,” said Hadley softly.

  All four men stared at her.

  “But I would not have him harmed, nor my mother and sisters, nor any at Court.”

  “We seek justice, not vengeance,” Tom Browne said. “’Tis a mortal sin to shed the blood of innocents or e’en to oppress those whom one has vanquished. I vow that—”

  “—Let him vow you no vows!” exclaimed Robin, struggling with his capt
ors. He managed to wrest one arm free, but was soon subdued again. “Lest the wretch perjure himself!”

  “Mayhap you mean to have us all in chains, Master Browne,” said Hadley.

  “Nay, but if I were mad enow to unloose this giant, he should o’erpower us in a trice!”

  “If Master Cope pledged that he would raise neither hand nor voice against you, would you remove his bonds?”

  “I shall not,” grumbled Robin.

  Tom Browne was silent.

  “Folk measure the world by themselves,” said Hadley, almost as if to herself. “A traitor sees naught but treachery, but a man of honor will entrust his very life to other men.”

  No one spoke.

  “Lord Vardis—” Hadley began.

  “—Aye,” said Tom Browne abruptly. “If Steward vows to stay his hand and loose his tongue, his fetters shall be broke. And further, I shall send these, my good friends, fro’ this chamber, that Master Cope and I may parlay as one man to another.”

  ~~~~

  Hadley’s return to Court had been heralded only by Susannah, who bade her make haste to change her gown, “for ‘tis nearly midday and the goose is off the spit.” Now as the Princess climbed the stair to the upper story, the Cook scolded the scullery maid, a young nobleman laughed loudly, and a platter of food slid from a lackey’s grasp and crashed upon the floor. But Hadley heard only the tumultuous pounding of her own heart.

  When she reached her chamber, she donned a gown that her father had once commended for its beauty, and plaited her tresses with trembling fingers. The round face in the glass was her own, yet not her own, for she was divided from herself. Little more than an hour ago, she had turned traitor to the King and all at Court: she had persuaded Robin Cope to speak with Tom Browne. Now Master Browne knew all that Robin knew of Lord Vardis and his knights…the King and his soldiers…the courtyard and its walls. Soon, no doubt, the rebels (“a thousand men and more,” Tom Browne had said) would lay claim to the crown. A dread prospect, yet surely less fearsome than if the palace were o’errun by Lord Vardis’s knights (“a heartless, knavish band,” Robin had called them).

  “Our lives are worth not a penny to his Lordship,” Hadley whispered to herself, as she stepped out of her chamber, taking pains to avoid stumbling on the long train of her gown.

  In the Great Hall, there was much merriment and conviviality, yet it seemed to Hadley that many faces held a secret, and that even the most mirthful laughter contained a note of fear. She persuaded Ingrid to change places with her at table, that she might be seated nearer the King.

  King Valentine smiled upon his youngest daughter, and raised a glass to her health and that of her prospective bridegroom. “For Lord Vardis improves apace! His senses have been restored to him, and the physician believes he shall swiftly mend!”

  There was a roar of delight and approbation which Hadley did not hear. She felt ill, of a sudden, and was put in mind of a fledgling swallow she had once seen as a child. It had stood upon a basswood limb, with its pale striped breast outthrust, its wings stretched wide, and its little round head held high, readying itself for flight, when a stone was flung by a careless youth. How limp was its small corpse, dropped to the dust; how tightly locked its tiny eyes, as though they had ne’er known light.

  She took a deep breath, shook her head to clear it, then lifted her chin. “Father!” she cried out. “Let us drink to the health of all at Court, for we are in peril!”

  “Health to all!” proclaimed the King, raising his glass.

  “Health to all!” repeated the throng.

  “Father,” said Hadley. “We are at risk of plague, of that I am sure. When I was out riding—”

  “Nay,” scowled the King. “We have drunk to all, and there’s an end of it.”

  Hadley swallowed, then spoke again. “I beseech you to grant me audience, Sire.”

  “Daughter, you may tell a merry tale if it be not a long one, but let us have no talk of ‘plague.’”

  “Well, then, it shall be merry.…When I was riding, I met a trader who had journeyed all the way from Wilgefortis, and he had seen much…” Hadley stopped, not knowing how to proceed.

  “I’ faith, I know this tale! It hath a wench and a donkey!” laughed a courtier, who was giddy with mead.

  “A mule, more like,” murmured another.

  “Clodpate,” muttered the King.

  Joan caught Hadley’s eye and smiled.

  “This trader,” said Hadley. “Vowed he had seen more dead and dying than he could tell, though I shall not say ‘plague.’”

  The King’s face reddened.

  “—But,” said Ingrid. “There came a physician from Cockaigne and cured them all.”

  “Aye…” said Hadley hesitantly.

  “I would hear the end o’ the tale, since it is not ‘plague,’” said Princess Joan.

  The King turned to her with an angry look.

  “There is little more to tell,” said Hadley. “Only…‘tis curious how some villages were grievously afflicted, but their neighbors spared. The village of…Heath was not touched at all, the trader said, though all the folk in…Greetham were laid low. He said, moreover, that all were spared in Basingham, where the water is so pure. Yet here, of a surety, many peasants are infected, and methinks it may come to us. I would we were in Basingham.”

  “There is naught of plague here!” said the King. “The peasants leave their work for despite and treachery!”

  “Aye, Father,” said Ingrid, smiling sweetly. “And if the graveyards fill up, why the physicians from Cockaigne may empty them again.”

  ~~~~

  Hadley had planted her seed well. Within two days, the King decided that all at Court should remove to Basingham, to avoid the “great pestilence.” The King’s counselors, who were timorous men, avowed that his Majesty was in the right, though privately they held that there was no plague. “This trader hath much deceived the Princess,” they whispered one to another. “Yet, powerful forces conspire against his Majesty, and our lives are in some danger. Sire hath sent for his soldiers, and if they return posthaste, all might yet be well. But for the nonce, ‘tis wise to retreat from Court.”

  Lord Vardis, alone, opposed the King’s order, but he was yet confined to his bed and could do little to forestall it. He sent his servants forth to hinder all preparations made for departure, but the men in scarlet were themselves hindered by the frequent presence of Princess Hadley. She was so small and quiet that even when they thought themselves alone, they oft found that she was nearby. She inquired hourly about the health of “my Lord,” and the two men laughed behind their hands at her devotion to a prospective bridegroom who, they knew, cared nothing for her.

  Hadley’s demeanor was calm, but her mind was sorely troubled. She prayed that Lord Vardis be conveyed to Basingham before his knights arrived, for his army might then be like to a headless tiger. She prayed that no man’s blood be shed in combat, and that no woman fall spoil to a victorious army. She prayed for the safety of her mother and sisters. And she prayed for herself…that she might live to see another Spring.

  ~~~~

  It was the eve of departure. A week had gone by, and much had been done to make ready. Trunks had been packed; carts, wagons, and horses procured; and additional men and women hired, to do all manner of work relating to the removal. Some goods and furnishings had been sent ahead, so that the Manor might be prepared in advance for the arrival of the King.

  Hadley’s last trunk stood open on the floor of her bedchamber, and she stood beside it, in her night clothes, gazing at a small key that rested in the palm of her hand.

  As Steward, Robin had always carried a large ring of keys, attached to the leather belt around his waist. This ring had been taken from him by the King’s men ere he was brought to the Tower. But, it appeared, there were several keys concealed about his person as well. She and Tom Browne had been greatly surprised when Robin doffed his left boot and shook out a thin silver wedge that he said wo
uld open not only the gate to the kitchen garden, but the door to his Majesty’s privy. It was ornately carved, this key. One could see at a glance that it pertained to Court.

  The key that Hadley held now was of plain iron. It came into her possession when she was at the Tower. She had mounted her mule and was preparing to ride back to Court, when Robin called her name. He crossed the distance between them in two long strides, and grasped her small hand, cradling it for a moment within his large one, before closing her fingers over a piece of hard metal.

  “Prithee keep this to remember me by,” he said. “It was wont to ope the door to my father’s shop.”

  Hadley looked closely at the key. Two letters were faintly inscribed on its kidney-shaped bow. “J…B,” she murmured.

  “My father was called ‘John,’” said Robin.

  “And his surname?”

  “If we live to meet again, I shall tell thee…I would that thou had gone to Wilgefortis.”

  He had bade her farewell then, and turned away, his broad shoulders bent, and Hadley had heard nothing of him since. Now, she doffed the light, climbed into bed, and placed the key under her pillow, that her head might rest upon it. “I love thee well, dear Robin,” she murmured, and then she slept.

  ~~~~

  She awoke, with a start, at dawn, to shrieks and shouts and thundering footfalls. She sat up quickly, but ere she could rise from her bed, the chamber door was flung open, and Susannah burst in, cap askew. “His lordship’s knights!” gasped the maid, running to the casement and throwing open the shutters.

  Hadley arose and stumbled to the window. Mayhap Susannah had mistaken the matter. Mayhap the King’s soldiers had returned.

  One glance convinced her otherwise. The palace was rimmed by armored riders in crimson-crested helmets, holding shields marked with his lordship’s coat-of-arms. And behind the tier of mounted men was a vast horde of foot soldiers that seemed to extend beyond the palace gates. How Lord Vardis had come to command such a monstrous army, she could not know.