***
“No! Please, please, no!”
At first the terrified screams seemed like remnants of a dream. Then it happened again, this time more urgent. The unrestrained begging was coming from down the hall. Surely Niall’s guards knew better than to allow this kind of nonsense in the middle of the night. He threw the door open and sprinted toward the disruption.
There was no time for assessment. His eyes were only able to catch the glint of the sword in the torchlight as it came down.
“Stop!” he commanded. If his sleep was to be interrupted, he was going to get all the details before body parts were hacked off in his hallway.
The guard looked up, startled and more than a little guilty. Niall used the silence in the pause of activity and screaming to take in the scene before him. A peasant woman dressed in filthy rags was on the ground at the guard’s feet, her arm caught in his death grip. Robert had clearly been about to cut off her hand.
When she looked up, her long, raven locks fell away from her face. The king almost took a step back in reaction to the brilliant green of her eyes and the trembling in her full lips. Tears tracked down her face, and he was already lost. He knew from her coloring and features that she was at least part gypsy, though not full. Not with those eyes.
“Well? Let her go,” Niall said. “And sheath your sword. You’ll have no use for it tonight.”
The guard released the woman’s wrist. A bruise was already forming, even against her darker flesh. He couldn’t imagine what it would look like if she’d been fair like most of the maidens in the kingdom. She scrambled away from Robert on her hands and knees, ending against the wall just behind Niall. He wasn’t sure if she’d moved instinctively behind him for his continued protection or if it was just the only place to go.
The guard genuflected and began to explain himself. “Your M—”
Niall cleared his throat. “You know how I feel about that at home.” The king loathed the too-formal address and reserved it only for official business and formal occasions. Being awakened in the middle of the night by a screaming peasant was hardly a formal occasion.
“I’m sorry, sir. She was stealing from the castle.”
Niall was unimpressed. The girl didn’t strike him as a career criminal, despite the reputation of her people. If anything, she was wet behind the ears in that area, or she wouldn’t have gotten caught.
“Stealing? What was she stealing? The crown jewels? My mother’s good silver? You’ve aroused my curiosity now. So please, regale me. What priceless heirloom or artifact was she making off with?”
Robert reached behind him and picked up a loaf of bread that must have fallen to the ground in the scuffle.
“Bread? You disturbed my sleep with the intent to chop off her hand for bread ?” If she’d risked breaking into the castle in the dead of night using God-only-knew-what means, her situation must be desperate, in which case Robert had more explaining to do.
“Surely you agree, sir, that she must be made an example of. Just getting into the castle is bad enough, but if she’d stolen anything and gotten away with it, it would weaken your authority.”
“Why would she be stealing bread?”
“I’m sorry?” Robert said as if Niall hadn’t enunciated clearly enough.
“Two days ago, I instructed you to take money from the treasury and feed the poor of the kingdom. I told you to make sure everyone had plenty of food to get them through the feast and festival this weekend. It’s hardly appropriate to have a feast of plenty with starving subjects. Would you not agree?”
Robert looked at the ground. The money was missing from the treasury, so it had been taken. It just hadn’t been used for the intended purpose.
“That’s a very fine belt and shoes you have on,” Niall remarked. “Quite a step up from what I issued you.”
“I…um...” the guard stammered.
Niall crossed his arms over his chest.
“No! Please, please, no!”
At first the terrified screams seemed like remnants of a dream. Then it happened again, this time more urgent. The unrestrained begging was coming from down the hall. Surely Niall’s guards knew better than to allow this kind of nonsense in the middle of the night. He threw the door open and sprinted toward the disruption.
There was no time for assessment. His eyes were only able to catch the glint of the sword in the torchlight as it came down.
“Stop!” he commanded. If his sleep was to be interrupted, he was going to get all the details before body parts were hacked off in his hallway.
The guard looked up, startled and more than a little guilty. Niall used the silence in the pause of activity and screaming to take in the scene before him. A peasant woman dressed in filthy rags was on the ground at the guard’s feet, her arm caught in his death grip. Robert had clearly been about to cut off her hand.
When she looked up, her long, raven locks fell away from her face. The king almost took a step back in reaction to the brilliant green of her eyes and the trembling in her full lips. Tears tracked down her face, and he was already lost. He knew from her coloring and features that she was at least part gypsy, though not full. Not with those eyes.
“Well? Let her go,” Niall said. “And sheath your sword. You’ll have no use for it tonight.”
The guard released the woman’s wrist. A bruise was already forming, even against her darker flesh. He couldn’t imagine what it would look like if she’d been fair like most of the maidens in the kingdom. She scrambled away from Robert on her hands and knees, ending against the wall just behind Niall. He wasn’t sure if she’d moved instinctively behind him for his continued protection or if it was just the only place to go.
The guard genuflected and began to explain himself. “Your M—”
Niall cleared his throat. “You know how I feel about that at home.” The king loathed the too-formal address and reserved it only for official business and formal occasions. Being awakened in the middle of the night by a screaming peasant was hardly a formal occasion.
“I’m sorry, sir. She was stealing from the castle.”
Niall was unimpressed. The girl didn’t strike him as a career criminal, despite the reputation of her people. If anything, she was wet behind the ears in that area, or she wouldn’t have gotten caught.
“Stealing? What was she stealing? The crown jewels? My mother’s good silver? You’ve aroused my curiosity now. So please, regale me. What priceless heirloom or artifact was she making off with?”
Robert reached behind him and picked up a loaf of bread that must have fallen to the ground in the scuffle.
“Bread? You disturbed my sleep with the intent to chop off her hand for bread ?” If she’d risked breaking into the castle in the dead of night using God-only-knew-what means, her situation must be desperate, in which case Robert had more explaining to do.
“Surely you agree, sir, that she must be made an example of. Just getting into the castle is bad enough, but if she’d stolen anything and gotten away with it, it would weaken your authority.”
“Why would she be stealing bread?”
“I’m sorry?” Robert said as if Niall hadn’t enunciated clearly enough.
“Two days ago, I instructed you to take money from the treasury and feed the poor of the kingdom. I told you to make sure everyone had plenty of food to get them through the feast and festival this weekend. It’s hardly appropriate to have a feast of plenty with starving subjects. Would you not agree?”
Robert looked at the ground. The money was missing from the treasury, so it had been taken. It just hadn’t been used for the intended purpose.
“That’s a very fine belt and shoes you have on,” Niall remarked. “Quite a step up from what I issued you.”
“I…um...” the guard stammered.
Niall crossed his arms over his chest.
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