The agreement

Chapter Ten

As they came closer to the walls though, something didn't seem right. The huddle of shacks that naturally grew up against the walls of such a castle looked abandoned and they rode unchallenged through the arched gates of Bowes. Guy paused to signal that Emma should ride behind him, and she was too wary of the air of trouble to argue. The bailey was full of activity and armed men wearing surcoats of dark blue emblazoned with three lions. Guy threw a worried glance back at Emma as they dismounted, his expression confirming her concern. Why was King John's men here, and where was the castle's household? She heard a sharp curse from one of Nottingham's men at arms. Far in the corner, near the piggery, a hastily erected scaffold was visible, two finely dressed corpses swinging gently in the afternoon breeze.

"Oh Christ" a wave of panic rose, she turned to run but Guy caught her arm and nodded up at the doorway of the keep. They were being watched by a slight, finely dressed man, his long robes shining with silks.

"Oh well, visitors, this is a nice surprise" the man drawled as he slowly made his way down to the bailey. "And a familiar face too" as King John caught sight of Guy who gave a small bow in return to his liege.

"You are a long way from home and your master" John smiled, his small rather pointed teeth giving him the look of an amused stoat. "And who is this with you?" he circled Emma, slowly assessing her from head to toe.

"This, my Lord, is the Lady de Vaisey, the Sheriff's niece" Guy replied quietly, not meeting her eye. Emma stood still, hardly breathing. She had never met the king before but she had heard enough stories of his cruelty and changeable moods to wish to avoid his attentions. Of course, she was also aware that there had been little love lost between her uncle and his lord, and that his failure to capture Robin Hood had done little to smooth their relationship.

"Oh is it now?" smirked John, his hand reaching out and grabbing her chin appraising her like a lamb at market. He laughed, not an entirely pleasant sound. "Not really my type, but luckily with little of the Vaisey blood in her by the looks of her, eh Guy?" John smirked. Emma bit back a retort that he probably preferred women his own height.

"So this is the bride to be of Robert's son" He released her, and turned back to Guy. "Unfortunately, that family's fortunes have taken a rather sad turn for the worse" he murmured, glancing at the scaffold. "But now that you are both here, I'm sure we can think of something". He beckoned them to follow him into the keep, Emma's unease growing with each step.

For all his failings, John was a generous host, even if the food and wine he had laid before them until recently had belonged to another. The hall was alive with bustling servants and lounging men at arms eyeing up wary serving girls who sensibly tried to stay out of arm's reach. Emma picked at the pigeon at her plate, keeping a watchful eye on the King from under her lashes. Guy was also silent, but appearing to take full advantage of the fine claret in the goblet in front of him. Emma heard a faint sniffling. A young finely dressed woman was sitting on a bench near the tapestries at the back of the hall, her eyes red and raw. John caught Emma's gaze.

"That, my dear, is the widow of the dear departed Robert. Pretty thing isn't she?" he glanced at Guy, who was steadfastly studying his wine glass.

John looked thoughtfully for a minute and laughed, the sound frightening Emma with its mocking undertone. He called over to a waiting servant, the poor man rushing to his side, almost tripping on the rushes on the floor in his eagerness to be of service. She couldn't catch John's words but within moments she found herself bundled off, following a serving wench up the stone stairs at the rear of the hall and directed into a large private chamber. Fine tapestries covered the walls but the air of wealth was ruined by open chests, clothes thrown aside, the bed covers thrown off the carved wooden bed. Emma looked around her in dismay at the destruction around her, the remnants of another family surrounding her, reminding her of the previous owners, now stiffening corpses outside.

She turned as the door opened softly and breathed a sigh of relief as a portly woman past childbearing age she did not know appeared past the door. She curtsied and introduced herself as Bessie.

"You must excuse the mess M'Lady" Bessie said, bustling round, quickly folding dresses and shirts and placing them carefully back in the chests. "The King's men were rather energetic in their searches yesterday. She starting stripping off the sheets and bedding, and with little other idea of what to do, Emma started to help.

"What were they looking for?" Emma asked quietly as they worked together remaking the bed with fresh linen.

"Oh you know, evidence, valuables, papers, anything really to show that Robert was in league with the Scottish". Bessie tutted as she noticed spilled wine on the rushes from a discarded goblet. "Of course, they found what they were looking for, Robert and his son William weren't exactly circumspect in their scheming. Thought they could betray John and win themselves an earldom" She stopped and turned to Emma "Not that I mean to speak ill of the dead, but as you were meant as a wife for William, you may want to give a quick prayer to the Lord".

She sat and patted the bed beside her and they sat in conversation as the sun lowered in the sky, it's light shafting through the narrow windows of the chamber. By the end of their discussion Emma did indeed throw a quick prayer of thanks Heavenward. William had been his father's son apparently, matching his casual cruelness, greed and stupidity. Matilda, the girl in the hall below had only been recently married to Robert after his last wife had thrown herself off the walls of the castle. The tears the girl had been shedding may have been of relief rather than grief she decided.

"But, what have I done, prattling on all this time!" Bessie cried, rising and appraising Emma's travel worn clothing. "You'll need some water and a new dress, we'll find you something I'm sure... the old mistress that was had some pretty things... always nice to look pretty at a wedding" Emma torn her mind away from the idea of wearing a dead woman's clothes. Had she just the word wedding? But William was dead, so there was going to be no wedding surely. She paled, and grabbed Bessie's arm.

"Who's wedding?" she asked quietly.

Bessie laughed "Well, that's the funny thing!" she replied "The king hasn't told us!"