Page 46 of Fortress of Snow

“Very well, very well. I will say no more. But I shall enjoy seeing him when he comes again.”

“Please don’t ogle him like you did last time.”

“Ogle? I did not ogle. At least, not while he was looking.”

Mazy shook her head. They had to stop talking of the handsome Sir Berenger when a woman came to buy some bread and cheese.

“Have you heard about the commotion?” the woman said.

“No, ma’am,” Ro said. “What commotion?”

“Some men, riffraff from the docks, have been making trouble, talking of taking up Wat Tyler’s Rebellion again. They were making their way through London. I’m hurrying to get what I need now before they come this way.”

Ro’s cheeks went pale and she grabbed Mazy’s arm. “Wat Tyler and his men murdered people in the streets and burned houses. What if they attack us and try to burn down our booth?”

Mazy’s mind went to how Wat Tyler’s band of rioters had not only created chaos in the streets but stormed the Tower of London and executed the archbishop and other high officials. Would John and Sir Berenger be caught up in another mob of killers? Would they be hurt or killed defending King Richard?

“I’d advise you maids to get home and lock your doors.” The woman paid for her goods and rushed away.

“Don’t worry, Ro. It might not even be true.” Mazy was trying to reassure herself as much as Ro. Surely they could not have another throng of people committing violence in London again so soon. After all, while King Richard had initially tried toreason with them, ultimately he made a harsh example of them, hunting them down and executing them in quick fashion, crushing the rebellion.

Ro was still pale, her freckles darker and more prominent on her whiter than normal skin.

Mazy asked the older man across the way if he had heard anything of another violent riot or rebellion.

“I heard tell of it from a man who had come from the east side of town. They was making their way through the streets, shouting about this and that, but they’ll get themselves killed just like Wat Tyler, I imagine. Don’t know why folks can’t just stay at home 'stead of rioting in the streets.”

Mazy thanked him and went to talk to one of the older women who sold vegetables a few stalls away.

“I heard about it too. You and Ro should go, just in case the mob comes this way.”

Mazy looked around. No one else was leaving. But perhaps she was right. Ro might be loud and boisterous and always ready to try something new or go on an adventure, but she also became terrified when there was a possibility of danger.

After all, she didn’t want to let anything happen to Ro.

“We might as well pack up our things for the day and go home,” Mazy said as she came back to Ro, whose eyes grew wider. “There’s probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll be extra cautious, just in case.”

“Oh, Mazy.” Ro rushed around, throwing things into their packs, her hands visibly shaking. “What if they’re coming here? They’ll burn down our stall and kill us.”

“Ro, it’s all right. That’s not going to happen. Besides, we will have time to get home, I am sure.”

Mazy didn’t want to alarm Ro, was trying to calm her down, but her own head was spinning with thoughts of what might happen if the rioters were on their way there. She and Ro might even encounter them on their way home. There was no telling what a crowd like that would do. After all, the violent throng that had attacked London and killed many people were just ordinary men and women, most of them very poor, but they had invaded the Tower of London in spite of its guards and gates and defenses. And it was a similar violent throng who had demanded Jesus be killed and who stoned the martyr Stephen.

The Wat Tyler rebels had killed numerous wealthy and powerful people, and they burned homes and belongings throughout the country for months before they were squashed. They’d wanted higher wages, which was a just cause in Mazy’s estimation, but their violence confused her. Certainly Wat Tyler and his rioters hated the rich and powerful and blamed them for their meager existence, and revenge played a big part in their violent revolt. But killing people and burning buildings did not seem a wise way to gain favor with those in authority.

Mazy had to be calm for Ro’s sake. She couldn’t let her fear show, and it would do no good to panic.

Besides, she was the Knife Girl. She had to live up to her reputation of being brave.

The thought of herself as a model of bravery made her laugh inside. No one knew how frightened she was, how she did not consider herself brave at all. But at this moment she needed thereminder—she was good at throwing knives, and she would not shrink from defending herself and Ro.

She patted the knife in each hip pocket, hidden in her skirt. She just had to slip the knife out of its sheath as she pulled it out. She had not been practicing throwing the knives lately, but if the attackers came, she would be ready.

Fourteen

Berenger noticed a man running across the Tower Green and went to meet him.

“I need to speak to the commander.”