Page 11 of Retribution

Aidric was already shaking his head at Orion, silently demanding the man not explain that foolish nickname to the king, but Orion wasn’t about to back down. With an ego the size of England herself, Orion thought himself quite humorous and clever.

“That is de Velt, sire,” he said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Because of the name the men call him. It is meant with affection, I assure you.”

“What name?” Edward said, still unclear.

“Manmeat,” Orion said. “The men call him Manmeat. The butcher of men.”

Now, Edward was catching on. “And you feel that this is an appropriate name for this highly skilled knight?” he said. Then, he held up a sharp hand. “Before you answer, let me tell you that I have seen what de Velt is capable of. Things that would give you nightmares. If I were you, I would not antagonize him so. You might become a piece of meat he strings up from the rafters.”

Orion was forced to back down, just a little, but only because the king had spoken. Had it been anyone else, he would have ignored them, but Edward was different.

One did not ignore the king.

“Aye, sire,” he said, unhappily lowering his gaze.

The submission of Orion had Aidric and the others fighting off grins. Even Gerard had a hint of a smirk that he was struggling against. It wasn’t often that Orion was humbled, so they savored the moment as Edward turned to Aidric.

“The crux of the situation for the crown of England is that things have changed,” he said quietly. “A new king is upon the throne, but it is strange in that it feels as if the transition of power has been quite ordinary. My father was king, then he was not, and now I am, and life goes on. There was no conflict or upheaval. Simply an easy transition from one king to the next. But the truth is that the situation has changed. I am more of a target than my father ever was and because of that, the Guard of Six has changed. Vigilance is more imperative than ever before. Everyone is an enemy, Aidric. There are no true allies in this world. At least, not in my world. Be aware.”

It was a rather ominous statement. What had always been the rather straightforward job of guarding Henry had taken a turn. With Edward, danger lurked in the shadows. There are no true allies in this world.

He meant what he said and the Guard of Six took him seriously. The feast would mark that new beginning with a new monarch and new enemies.

Be aware.

They would be.

More than ever.

CHAPTER FIVE

City of London

The city seemed quite crowded.

It was a fine day, bright and sunny, with a scattering of puffy clouds across the sky. The smell from the river, from the fish markets, was heavy upon the wind, as it usually was later in the day when the breeze blew in from the east and carried the stench of the Thames over the city. But that same breeze also cleared out the smoke from the cooking fires that tended to linger, sometimes creating a choking fog that could stagnate for days.

But not today.

Today was a perfect day and Cleodora was enjoying it immensely. Riding in a carriage that was painted white and yellow, the colors of the Archbishop of Cambridge, she sat in the cab behind gossamer curtains over the windows, translucent fabric so that she could see out but others couldn’t see in. She was always to remain enigmatic—especially out in public. Cambridge didn’t like anyone but him to gaze upon her beauty, which was why outings like this were so rare.

Cleodora was soaking up every moment of it.

She loved to people-watch. The city of London was an interesting place, with diverse groups coming and going. The journey from Thornhill wasn’t a long one, but they passed on the outskirts of the Jewish section of London as well as the Street of the Bankers, and that afforded her an abundance of people to see. Cambridge had once told her that this area of the city smelled of money, and while she couldn’t really smell coin, the smithies and their hot furnaces to the east would sometimes be caught up in the breeze and the scent of hot metal would waft through the streets. Since coin was metal, it did, indeed, smell of money at times.

“’Tis very busy today, my lady,” Filly said from her perch on the other side of the bench. “Look at all of the people!”

Through the haze of fabric, Cleodora could see that for herself. “I wonder where they are all going?” she murmured. “I wonder… Look at some of the women. They seem so very determined.”

Filly was trying to see what Cleodora was referring to. “You mean the goodwives?” she said. “The town women?”

Cleodora was focused on one lady in particular who was walking several feet away, basket in hand and a small boy in tow. The child was upset and the mother was dragging him along, obviously determined to get where they were going.

“Aye,” she said after a moment, watching the sun glint off the blond hair of the little boy. “What do you suppose it feels like to have a husband you are fond of and children who love you? I should think it would make a woman feel quite wanted. Needed. Happy, even.”

Filly sat back in her seat, now looking from the opposite side of the carriage. “I suppose,” she said. “But it must be a difficult life.”

“Why?”