Page 34 of Fortress of Snow

“I will help her,” Mazy added.

“The profits of what you sell at the market you can share between you,” he said, “but I’ll not be paying you for helping Ro with her work in the alehouse.” He pointed a finger at Mazy.

“I understand. Thank you, sir.”

He looked at her as if she were daft, then he shook his head and walked away.

Mazy had never imagined selling bread in a marketplace, and certainly never imagined working in an alehouse, but she had also never felt so hopeful. And, strangely, she felt... strong.

Warin had not destroyed her life by casting her off. And though John had all but abandoned her in London, she would not be dependent on him for provision. And even though she wasan orphan, she was not completely alone. No, she had a friend in Ro, she was a Londoner now, and she would take care of herself.

Someday she did hope she could marry a good, kind man who loved her and whom she could respect and love in return, someone who would make her feel safe. Then she would not be alone and would not have to brandish a knife at every ruffian in London. Someday. But he would have to be an exceptional man indeed to compete with Sir Berenger, with whom she would inevitably compare him.

However, should this exceptional man never come to her, she could provide for and protect herself.

***

John did not come home until the next night. He smelled of strong drink and he hardly spoke.

“Look, Mazy, I’m not going to be able to come back here every night. I have to sleep most nights at the knights’ barracks at the Tower.”

“Oh.” Her stomach sank, but at least he was telling her and being honest.

“I can try to get you a position at the castle, but it will be as a servant, and you’re not accustomed to that work. But at least if you worked in the castle or at the Tower, you could stay with the other servants at night and you’d be safe.”

“I’m safe here. I can lock the door.”

“You think you’re safe here?”

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure, especially after her encounterwith the man outside the market. But she found herself saying, “And I think I’ve thought of a way to earn money, baking bread with Ro in her father’s kitchen and selling it at the market.”

John pulled on his chin and stared at the wall before saying, “That sounds like a good idea.”

She still wanted to tell him about pulling her knife on the man who threatened to attack her, but she was not sure she should. He might try to force her to work at the castle or the Tower, and Mazy could think of nothing she’d be very good at there. Besides, she felt much better about how she handled the man after telling Ro about it. No, she would not accept John’s offer. She would stay here at the alehouse, and she would find a way to provide for herself.

Her brother lay down and was snoring within moments.

Eleven

Two years later

Late summer 1385

Berenger walked through the streets of London leading his horse by the bridle. It was good to see London Town after such a long time, after so much had happened.

The last time he was here, he was being held in the Tower of London, awaiting his execution, along with his brothers. He felt a strange sensation at being here again, even after being fully exonerated and his family enjoying once again the good graces of the king.

He was also seeing this great, historic English town for the first time since going to war in a foreign land and experiencing battles, hardships, and triumphs. He’d come through relatively unscathed, with only a few small scars to show for the arrowsthat had grazed him and where a sword point had gotten past his own blade.

Other men had not been so fortunate, and he often prayed for those who had been permanently maimed, as well as for the souls from both sides who were killed.

The sun was actually shining today after the last few days of nothing but drizzling rain. And though Berenger was not sure what would happen, he felt uplifted by the prospect of this day’s encounter with King Richard, who had summoned him to the king’s apartments at the Tower of London.

“Your exploits and bravery have been brought to my attention,” the missive from the king read, “by both your commanders and the Prussian nobles. I wish to commend you in person for your great deeds.”

Being noticed for his “great deeds” by the king of England was good in itself, but the king was also quite generous with those who found favor with him, often awarding them land and castles. He was also known to create a title for those with whom he was pleased.

As he made his way toward the Tower of London, Berenger came upon a small market. He handed his horse’s reins to his squire and went in to purchase some food.