Of Lords and Commoners: Book 1 (Lords and Commoners Series) Read online

  “The killer is to be hanged only if he is caught in the act. If there is no doubt that he is the killer, then he will be hanged in the village square after all have heard the story of his guilt. If a man is suspected of the murders, without any witnesses, he is to be kept secured until we can be sure he is indeed the killer. Meanwhile, there will be a village curfew imposed. All men are to be safely indoors at home by dark, and women and children are to be home an hour prior to that.”

  This was disappointing, as I loved to go for walks on summer nights. Yet I had no desire to trip over another body on the dark forest floor — let alone to become one.

  “Furthermore,” Clamius continued, “we will set up a patrol — all able men must help to keep watch over the town at all times. Let us pray we catch the killer.”

  As folks filed out of the tavern, I overheard Ivan state that he would slay the killer on the spot if he was the one to find him. This concerned me. Ivan was out for blood and if he suspected someone, it would be over for him. Even if he had the wrong man, it wouldn’t matter — the accused would be dead.

  Father was handing out blessed amulets to each household. The amulets were Orthodox Patriarchal Crosses. Each one was hand carved and then blessed by Father. He greatly enjoyed working with wood and when he was not busy preparing orations, baptizing babies or visiting those who called on him for blessings, he often made furniture and created intricate woodcarvings.

  As he handed the amulets to the head of each household he said, “May this protect you and yours from evil.”

  There were many replies of gratitude. “God bless you, Deacon,” must have been stated fifty times over. Everyone gladly accepted this holy and powerful refuge from iniquity, that was, everyone aside from Ivan. He grabbed his wife’s hand roughly as she reached eagerly for the amulet from Father.

  “Such a small wooden thing is not capable of protecting us,” Ivan’s voice was deep and stern. “If you really want to give people something that will protect them, Deacon, then give every man a razor-sharp sword.”

  Father smiled with reassurance to Ivan’s wife, who looked scared and desperate to have the protection of God. She was dragged out of the tavern by her husband.

  Blasphemy! I thought. Ivan claims to be Christian and yet he would forsake his family’s safety simply to taunt my father — the Deacon, of all people — how dare he! Teller, as well as his family, are vulnerable to the crazed madman out there. They were naked without the blessed cross.

  Father turned toward me, handing me the cross that was meant for Ivan’s household. He gave me a knowing nod and with a smile turned back to the next family awaiting a blessing. I knew exactly what he meant by this gesture; he wanted me to get the cross to Teller. Ivan would not take it from Father but Teller would take it from me. Though I was not sure how or when I would be able to do this surreptitiously. I quickly placed the cross in the front pouch of my dress.

  The last one to accept an amulet was Lord Chastellain. He took the cross and examined it carefully. “Astounding craftsmanship. Did you carve this yourself?”

  Father smiled and they walked out together, soon lost in conversation. Elijah gave me a beautiful smile and a nod before he joined our fathers.

  Chapter 6 Ludus 1260 A.D

  I stayed behind to clean up after the crowd. Bidding my uncle goodnight, I hurried out as soon as possible. I could not wait to get home, not only to make curfew but also to partake in Vespers, which I never missed. Sometimes my father and brother would have to wait until I returned from the tavern but we always lit candles and incense together. Father would read from the Book of Psalms. The informal services would end with silent individual prayers. On this particular day they would have been even more vehement than usual. This was a tradition Father learned while he studied in Targoviste to become a deacon. Bishops, deacons, monks and nuns would perform Vespers on a daily basis. The common person did not always conduct such a ceremony but in my house we were dogmatic about the evening prayer ritual.

  As I stepped foot outside the tavern a male voice said, “How are you doing?” I spun around to find Teller leaning against the side of the tavern.

  “Oh, thank God! It’s you.” I wanted to throw my arms around him but instead I settled for placing my arm in his.

  “I’m glad to see you have stopped ignoring me.” His green eyes sparkled as he gazed down at me. He was a welcome sight indeed. “I came by your house a couple of times but your father thought it best to leave you alone. You do know that I am here for you?”

  I returned his smile and nodded; he had always been there and I hoped he always would be. We walked home arm in arm. “I was not avoiding you. Why would I avoid you?”

  “I have no idea. I was hoping you would tell me why you would do such a thing.”

  “It is these murders and the disappearance —

  “No, you stopped speaking to me before this whole ugly mess arose,” Teller interrupted.

  This was followed by too long of a pause from me. I had not thought about my trivial problems for a month or more — it seemed as if a year had passed since I was only a girl who had learned she was in love with her friend.

  “Well, I suppose there was a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what?” he probed.

  This was why avoiding Teller was easier, as I did not want to outright lie to him. I supposed I had to tell him. It was not likely to be a secret much longer anyway. Better he heard it from me. “Elijah, Lord Chastellain’s son, has asked for my hand in marriage,” I blurted out the words.

  This stopped Teller in his tracks.

  “And I do not know how to refuse him,” I continued. I had stopped walking as well.

  Either anger or concern crossed his face. Yet his voice remained indifferent as he replied, “Why would you refuse such a wealthy man?”

  I hesitated again, not wanting to tell him the real reason, which was that I loved him and not Elijah. “I do not know Elijah and I cannot leave my father and brother with no woman to care for them.” This was not lying, it was just not telling the entire truth. There was a difference, wasn’t there?

  Teller’s expression lightened. “You’re right; you should not leave your family so soon,” he spoke with certainty.

  “What do you mean, ‘so soon’?”

  “You are still young. Once your brother has married, then would be the time for you to consider such matters.”

  I pondered this. Would I have to wait to marry until my brother did so? Was it that my brother would have to have a wife to care for him, so my unwed father would not have to do so? Josiah was almost two years younger than I and boys tended to marry later than girls. Boys often needed more time to get settled into an occupation before marriage. It could be three or four years before my brother married. I would be an old maid by then. This made me uncomfortable, so I pushed the thought out of my head.

  “Father wishes that I might at least become more familiar with Elijah before I give my answer.”

  “Certainly he does. He would probably be happy to marry you off to a noble.” Teller retorted with irritation. “Better than someone like …”

  “Like whom?”

  “Well, rather than a … commoner.”

  I had hoped for a different answer — one that might give me an inkling as to how Teller felt about me. But everything he said could be the product of a brotherly concern. After all, he was my closest friend.

  “Father says he values my happiness above riches.”

  “Your father is truly a good man. I wish my father were more like him. Perhaps then I could please him.” Teller made this last statement quietly.

  I had never been overly fond of Ivan. I could not imagine what it would be like to be his child, always on edge; nothing you did was ever good enough. My heart ached for Teller.

  “I am truly blessed to have Adam for a father. He is more than I deserve.” This reminded me of the cross in my pocket. It now felt heavy against my leg, as if it were prompting me to give it
to Teller.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  I placed my free hand in my pocket and held the cross. “Although your father might be like a lamb compared to having Lord Chastellain as a father-in-law.”

  Teller smiled. “You might be right about that. It is not only his wealth that makes him intimidating — with one look, he can command and control people.”

  That was the perfect description of Lord Chastellain. “I know precisely what you mean.” I shivered.

  Teller took his arm from mine and placed it around my shoulders. “Are you cold?”

  “No, it is all this talk about Lord Chastellain that bothers me.” Teller did not remove his arm, which was pleasant. I had missed him and now I fully realized how much. This was the way it should be, talking freely with each other and caring for each other — as we had always done. Yet was it still only friendship?

  We were approaching my house, so it was now or never. I stopped walking and handed Father’s amulet to Teller. He removed his arm from around me and took a step back. He looked at the object as if it were a snake.

  “Please take this. I beg you.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t. Father would be furious if I brought it home.”

  “Then don’t let him see it. Please, for your family. It will keep them safe. You must take it!”

  He looked into my eyes for a moment. A weary smile crossed his lips. “Your father knew I would take it from you, didn’t he?” He wrapped his warm hand around mine that held the cross and slowly took it from me.

  I exhaled, as relief flooded through me.

  “I suppose it can’t hurt,” Teller said, as he studied the cross.

  He walked me the rest of the way home. We were both quiet — thoughtfully reserved. Once we had reached the front door, he said, “This is goodnight. Stay safe inside and I hope you do not get to know the young lord too well.”

  What did that mean? I thought. “Goodnight, Tell,” I said with a smile.

  Once inside, I found Father seated in his favorite chair. He returned my smile and stood. “Did Teller accept the amulet?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Good.” He frowned. “Unfortunately, my dear, until you are married, you should not be seen alone with Teller. You are not children anymore and people will start to think poorly of you.”

  I put my head down. “Yes, Father.” It was not fair that I could no longer be friends with Teller simply because we were older now. But I had to admit, things had changed. I no longer thought of Teller in the same way. The townspeople would be right to gossip. Grown men and women were not allowed to be close friends.

  Father gently lifted my head, with his hand on my chin. “Don’t lower your head. You have done nothing wrong, my spring flower. In fact, always keep your head raised high.”

  Chapter 7 Ludus 1260 A.D

  My first chaperoned visit with Elijah was set for today. For an unknown reason I was nervous. Perhaps it was because I did not know what to expect. It will probably be tedious, as I will have to listen to him talk endlessly about himself and how great and wealthy he is, I thought.

  Father and Lord Chastellain walked behind us, no doubt talking about theology and perhaps even some philosophy. They stayed out of earshot, yet within sight of Elijah and me, as was customary. At first it was silent and awkward. I did not understand how so many women could bear to marry men they did not know. Most marriages were arranged and women, who were in many respects still girls, were often thrown into marriage beds with men who were strangers. Again, a feeling of gratefulness overcame me at the knowledge that Father would not force me to marry.

  “What are your thoughts about the meeting yesterday?” Elijah’s voice was low and soft, gentle even, much unlike his father’s.

  I was taken aback. He wanted to know my thoughts. Women’s thoughts and opinions were often not valued by men, especially when it came to politics. Yet he did not want to talk about himself. This was not the young man riding his splendid steed through town with his nose in the air, as if he were better than everyone else. Or perhaps asking for my thoughts was for show — his way of trying to win me over.

  “It worries me that there is a dangerous killer lurking about and I worry that an innocent man could take the blame for it,” I replied.

  “Indeed, you are your father’s daughter.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” My voice was full of accusation.

  “Not in the least. Your father is an intelligent and kind man.” There was sincerity in his voice. “In fact, there are not many men who can keep Father intrigued with scholarly conversation, as Adam does. It is fortunate that there is an educated man in the village to keep my father occupied.” He glanced back briefly to our fathers behind us.

  “Well then, thank you, My Lord.”

  “Please, no, do not call me that. Father relishes the title but I find it horrid. Titles like that are demeaning to the people who feel they must call me such.”

  “What, then, should I call you — simply Elijah?”

  “That is my name,” he said with a handsome crooked smile.

  Once again, I was surprised. Most men would give anything for such a noble title as lord. I could not help smiling in return.

  “Very well, Elijah.” I tried out the informal title and it felt odd, almost disrespectful. After all, a strict decorum was required, in which people were ranked in clearly defined hierarchies. The hierarchy started with monarchs at the top, then lords or nobles, elders and clergy and then ordinary men. Women and children were at the bottom. Clear lines existed between these groups and such lines were not to be crossed.

  There was silence again.

  “What do you think happened to those people who were killed?” he asked.

  My shoulders relaxed a bit as I was beginning to feel more comfortable. “It is unlikely that someone is trying to prompt us to war by slowly killing people from the village. I have the feeling that Ivan might be wishing for such. He appears to delight in the prospect of war.”

  “Very perceptive.” Elijah sounded impressed. “Men like Ivan feel a sense of purpose when they are fighting for something bigger than themselves, like the protection of their village. It can be what drives them.”

  I nodded, knowing this to be true. Yet it was difficult to imagine that some people would consider war a good thing. “I suppose some men are keen on war?”

  “Aye. And I am not sure it was a lone man who killed those people,” he said.

  “What do you think — that it was a group of men? Perhaps a youthful band of boys wreaking havoc for sport?” This was an appalling thought.

  “No, though that is not entirely unrealistic. However, it may have been an animal or something … not human anyway.”

  Why had I not thought of that? The way the bodies were covered in blood with the necks torn out, it could possibly have been a bear, although I had never heard of such attacks so close to the village. “Why did you not bring this up during the meeting? It seems plausible. Perhaps as plausible as a murderous man on the loose.”

  Elijah frowned, as if he had not liked the question. “I’m not entirely sure. The people, Ivan in particular, seem determined to blame a man for the killings. I was embarrassed to speak up. Such attacks this close to town are unheard of. Let’s discuss something more lighthearted, shall we?”

  I doubted he was afraid to speak up. The thought that it could be animal attacks comforted me a bit, for it was their nature, while humans should not kill randomly and for no reason. Perhaps there was not a lunatic on the loose after all. I felt the need to run to Father and tell him this new theory but I refrained. “Then what would you like to discuss?”

  “I want to know about you.”

  Elijah was full of surprises, I thought. He doesn’t appear to want to talk about himself at all. “Well, that won’t take long and I’m afraid it will be quite boring.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled.

  “Our mother died when my
brother and I were young. I don’t have many memories of her. Father is all we have so I do my best to take care of my family — filling my mother’s shoes, I suppose. Surely I do a horrible job of it …

  He appeared to be waiting for more.

  “That is it,” I said.

  “I doubt that that is all and I doubt that you do a horrible job of taking your mother’s place as the homemaker. The jam tarts you served us were delicious. If the rest of your cooking is that good, then I know your father and brother are well taken care of. Not to mention your home is well kept.”

  “You are kind to say such things.” I found that I was now truly curious about him. “Where is your mother?”

  His face was grim and he stared ahead without seeing the path or trees that surrounded us. “She died when I was about ten years old — murdered actually and I was the one who found her.” His tone was flat — devoid of any emotion.

  My heart sank. I stopped walking and Elijah did the same. What on earth does someone say to something like that? “I am sorry! I had no idea. If I had known, I would not have asked.” I lowered my head in sorrow.

  He gently lifted my chin with his index finger. His finger felt unusually cold for a warm summer day.

  “It is fine that you asked. It’s a legitimate question; besides, if we are to become familiar with each other, then you must know.” Elijah gazed intently at me.

  His eyes were a grayish blue and they were wise and gentle. There was a distinct sadness in them — too much sadness and too much intelligence for someone of only eighteen years. His eyes made him appear older. I shook my head to regain my focus from all that I saw in his stormy eyes.

  “Who killed her?” I had a strong desire to know and he made me feel that I could ask.

  He broke away from my stare and started walking again. Rather hastily, he stated, “I don’t know. We never caught the culprit.”