My Lady Jane - Cynthia Hand Page 0,133

poor E∂ians burned at the stake. So keep that in mind as you read onward.

Anyway, back to Jane and her worrying.)

“We’re all doing this for the same reason,” Edward said gently. “The soldiers know it. They’re willing to sacrifice everything for that reason, if sacrifice is what they must do.”

“What reason is that?”

“To make England the kind of place that we would have it be: a land of peace and prosperity, a kingdom where we are permitted to be our true selves without fear.”

“That’s worth maybe dying for.” Gifford’s voice came from behind her.

She turned. At seeing him as a man again, a shiver ran through her, both delight and sorrow. She’d begged him not to change this morning, and he had anyway.

“See?” Edward nudged Gifford with his elbow. “Even the horse agrees.”

Gifford bowed.

“Screw your courage to the sticking-place, right, G?” Edward said. He clapped Gifford on the shoulder and leaned to kiss Jane’s cheek. “Now I’d better change. To make sure I have time to get hold of the bird joy.”

He’d better get hold of the bird joy, Jane thought. And truly, he’d improved, as far as she’d seen. But if he wasn’t there when she was ready . . .

Her cousin became a kestrel and flew into the starry sky. She watched him go.

“You don’t have to be the one to do this, Jane,” Gifford said, when they were alone. “There are others who could.”

She smiled at him sadly. “I must do this. I was queen for only nine days, and I don’t wish to be queen again, but I do love England. I want to fight for it. For E∂ians. For us.”

Gifford searched her eyes, stepping close, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t kiss her. His change this morning was still too thick between them.

“Then let’s go, my lady.”

They returned to the tent and found Pet sitting with her chin on Edward’s chair.

“Come on, Pet.” Jane kept her voice soft. “I know you want to help Edward. We’ll do it just like I told you earlier. Come on.”

Pet whined like maybe she found this whole thing a very dumb idea, but she followed Jane and Gifford out of the camp.

“Don’t worry, Pet,” Gifford said as they walked. “I can defend us, should the need arise.”

Pet whined again, and Jane agreed. She wasn’t totally confident in her husband’s skills as a swordsman. Although she supposed he’d managed well enough with the giant bear.

Trumpets sounded in the distance—the attack on the city had begun. Jane, Gifford, and Pet moved swiftly in the opposite direction, moving parallel to the old Roman wall that protected the city.

“Here.” Jane guided the group to a wide ditch that ran alongside the wall. The high weeds would provide the perfect cover, as long as they stayed quiet. “Keep low.”

Gifford snorted. “That’s easy for you to say.”

She arched her neck to look up at him. “No one asked you to be so tall.” But she was pleased her demure stature was finally good for something. It was an advantage at last. A boon. An asset. A virtue— She stopped herself from continuing her synonym spiral. There was work to do. “We’ll head for Saint Katherine’s.”

The three of them sneaked as quickly as they dared. Every shout from beyond the wall made the two (at the moment) humans duck. Pet always turned her ear toward the sound, growing statue still, and then wagged her tail when she was sure that all was clear.

It had been a last-minute idea to send Pet with Jane and Gifford, and Jane was glad for the companionship, even if Pet was sometimes a naked girl and that made everyone uncomfortable. Pet was always good to have in a scrape.

She hoped tonight wouldn’t be too much of a scrape.

Ahead of them, a large priory stood against the darkening sky. Jane knew this land well—she and Edward had sometimes played near here as children. There were several abbeys in this part just outside of London, and a church, gardens, and a hospital. She could already see the Tower and its many structures before them, rising against the night. Torches shone along the walls. She wondered where Edward was—if he was circling overhead already, waiting for her. But she didn’t see him. It was too dark.

“Look here,” Gifford said, glancing around. “We’re on Tower Hill.”

Jane shuddered. They were standing on the ground where Gifford was to have been executed not so long ago. A huge, newly built pyre stood nearby, stacked with brush just

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