It was nearing the late winter dawn when Richard woke from a stupor engendered by the cold to find that he was in the courtyard of a fine house, a house near the river. He realized with a start that the horse had brought him into the outskirts of London, to its own stable. He slid from the saddle, and tottered for a moment, his legs unsteady from the cold and the long ride. A torch flared in his face and he jerked back as a rough voice sounded loudly in his ear.
“Here now, you young villain, what be you doin’ with my lord’s horse? Here, not so fast, th’ earl’ll want a word with you.” Hard hands grasped his shoulders and spun him about, shoving him at two other men who were coming across the courtyard towards him. He struggled, but they held him fast, twisting his arms behind him until he cried out. He had fleeting glimpses of kitchens and passages, then steep stairs down into the darkness, and a small cellar room where he was flung into the gloom, hitting the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of him. The door was firmly shut and locked upon him, and the flicker of the torchlight faded from under the door as the footmen retreated back up the stairs.
It was hours later that he was hauled up to stand before the Earl of Essex, held tightly between the two men that had tossed him into the cellar. Essex viewed him with distaste, then looked beyond to someone who had entered the room behind him. Richard craned his neck to see who was standing there, and almost fainted at the sight of the stooping sandy-haired man who smiled back at him, followed closely by a red headed man with powerful shoulders and a pronounced limp.
“Well, Dickon, my lad, I see you have not forgotten your old benefactor. It is lucky that one of my grooms spotted you and told me that you were here, is it not? Else I might never have known,” he laid a menacing hand on the quailing boy’s shoulder, and turned to Essex. “Yes, Robin, as I thought, it is my runaway servant, and glad I am to get him back. I think it would be best if we say that the horse returned of itself, which is no more than the truth, after all. We need not mention that the lad was upon it at the time. I would prefer his whereabouts remain a mystery for the time being. I suppose that your men can hold their tongues?” he added, eyeing the grooms who exchanged swift glances, then looked impassively straight ahead.
“Of course, Harry. You think to use—”Robin broke off with a knowing smile at a nod from his brother-in-law. “I see. Well, take him with you, if you will. Do you wish him bound?”
“I think it best,” Northumberland answered, snapping his fingers at the limping man who had remained by the door. He crossed the room with a feral grin, and pulled a handful of braided cords from a fold of his cloak. The cords were tied cruelly tight, cutting into the boy’s wrists, causing him to bite his lip in an effort not to cry out.
Northumberland waited a moment then checked the bonds, and clucked reprovingly at Sommers. “Now, Doctor, we do not wish to cripple the boy, at least not yet. Loosen these a bit for now. Of course if he refuses to cooperate, you may then have a free rein to practice upon him. But I expect you will cooperate, won’t you, Dickon? Yes, I think that you will.” Sommers loosened the cords a fraction, then knelt to tie the boy’s ankles, adding another set of cords above the knee, and reaching a surreptitious hand to caress a buttock. Richard cried out, flinching away from his tormentor, and earning a casual backhanded blow from Northumberland that sent the tears streaming from his eyes. Sommers laughed softly, and rising to his feet, pulled a kerchief from his sleeve and stuffed the captive’s mouth with it, binding it in place with a second one offered by the earl. He then muffled the boy in the cloak brought for the purpose and chopped him expertly behind the ear. The footmen caught him as he fell and carried him to the cart that waited below.
Chapter 14
Jehan and Rhys returned just before dawn, stumbling with weariness as they