Chapter Ten

The town lay quiet and sleeping. At least that's how it appeared. The pub in the center of everything, The Kingsly Inn, had lively music and lights shining bright. It was like a flame attracting the moth. I pulled the cloak tight around my body. I was not the usual clientele. I didn't need to draw any undue attention to Jonathan and I. Scanning the room I spotted the man I was hunting in a far corner. It was shadowy, and he was alone, but I knew the disgraced Lord Elmsworth. He was a disheveled mess guzzling down ale and chewing on dried meat. I pushed my way through the crowd and stood in front of his table.

"That's your contact?" Jonathan asked in disbelief.

"He's more formidable and knowledgeable than he looks. Don't let the smell and fake drunk fool you."

"Fake drunk?"

I looked at the man who slowed his chewing. "Isn't that right, Lord Elmsworth?"

"Joselyn," he grunted.

"Lady Joselyn." I reminded him.

He tore off another piece of the dried meat, speaking while he chewed. "A lady does not become an assassin. A proper lady marries and bears her husband many children. Especially big, strong boys. Like the ones I had at one time."

"He knows that you're an assassin?"

"Yes," I replied.

"How and why?"

"I know a lot of things. It doesn't matter how."

I rolled my eyes and smacked my hands on the table. "Pay attention, please."

"You're interrupting my nightly constitution."

"Deal with it. We have a problem. Someone is trying to murder the king."

"I'm supposed to care why?" he asked, taking another swill of his ale. "He's the one who banned me from court and took my lordship for absolutely no reason other than his own enjoyment. Do you know what that caused? I lost my houses, my land, my wife was granted a divorce and took my sons away!"

"Henry Elmsworth! It was not for his own enjoyment. If I remember correctly, you married the king's youngest sister without his permission and cheated on her with her own maid. I cannot blame a woman for seeking a divorce from a man who sired children with how many mistresses?"

He shrugged his shoulders and pulled his hat further over his face.

"You married the king's sister?" Jonathan asked.

"Maybe," Henry mumbled.

"There are no maybes, Henry. You did. Without permission."

He slammed the mug down and stood up. His face mere inches from my own. He was unshaved, and a smudge of dried blood streaked across his cheek. His eyes didn't have the same merry twinkle from years past.

"What do you want, Joselyn?" he spat at me.

"What have you been doing, Henry?" I asked, throwing a handkerchief at him. "You missed some blood on your face."

He snatched it off the table and wiped furiously at himself. "It's none of your concern. A man must do what he must in order to survive."

"Murder is against the law."

"You have no right to tell me about what's right or wrong, assassin."

"Joselyn, obviously he's not going to help. Let's go."

"We're going to need his help. We just need him sober."

"I'm fine."

Jonathan shook his head while looking at the shadow of man before us. It was true, Lord Elmsworth was a mess. He had been the king's third man in charge, rising military and political figure in the kingdom for how young he was. When the king found out Henry secretly married his sister and subsequently cheated on her with every lady in court, Cassius had him banished and stripped of his title. For a man who grew up poor that would not have been a problem. They would adapt. They would go back to life as normal. For Lord Henry Elmsworth that was a death sentence. He was a man of privilege. He expected certain luxuries in life. Now he had to forge his own way. There were no more favors from the king. Nothing was handed to him on a silver platter like he was accustomed to. A small part of me felt pity for the man; however, he did it to himself. If only he hadn't married the king's sister. Now he hires himself out to do people's bidding and became a drunkard.

The sad life of Henry Elmsworth, former Lord of the court.

"I don't think he's been sober in years, Joselyn."

"I'm fine," Henry muttered again.

"If we were attacked right now surely you would be the first to die." I grabbed one of his arms and motioned for Jonathan to grab the other. "Let's go. I don't have much time for the nonsense. I have to return to the palace before anyone realizes I'm gone."

"Where are you taking me?" Henry asked.

"Back to the castle."

"No! I'm not going back there."

"You're not going inside, you ridiculous man. You'll be staying in the barn with the animals."

"I'm not an animal," he said.

"No, but you smell like one and if King Cassius sees you he'll surely have you dragged away to the tower. I can't have that."

Jonathan and I hoisted the man from his seat and steered him through the crowded inn. Nobody paid us much attention. Of course, most of the people in the inn were probably muggers and murderers. Who would notice a man and woman taking another man away?

"Where is your horse?" Jonathan asked Henry.

"Who knows?"

"A man never loses his horse. Where did you tie him off?"

Henry shrugged his shoulders and slid to the ground as I let go of his arm.

"You are being ludicrous. Stop fighting us. We need your help and it may even help you."

"How?"

"Perhaps when the king sees you're trying to save his life he'll allow you back to court and return your lordship along with your houses," I said.

He looked up at me; I could see the contemplation in his eyes. As much as he wanted to deny it, Henry wanted his position in court back. He wanted to be back in the king's graces.

"All I have to do is help you find the person trying to kill him?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why can't you figure it out?"

"You know the king better than most. You know those close enough that could turn courtiers against him."

"Courtiers?"

"Yes. The man who tried to assassinate him tonight was a lord."

He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips into a thin line. His internal struggle was sad to watch.

"Fine. I'll help, but it's not for him or for you. I just want my stuff back."

"Alright. Fair enough."

He pointed to a sleek, brown horse with a worn saddle tied off in front of the inn. "That's Jacob."

"Your horse's name is Jacob?" Jonathan asked, arching his eyebrows.

"Yes, his name is Jacob. He's the only thing I was able to keep."

"Well let's mount and return to Hampton Court," I said, walking to Sable.

"Do you have any idea who may be behind the plot against the king?" Henry asked.

"No. That's why I came to you. You know everyone at court better than I."

"Why am I always doing you favors? You could be banished from court just for being seen with me," Henry said.

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Joselyn, you can't afford to be out of the king's favor. You cannot be banished from court," Jonathan whispered.

"There is nobody else I can turn to. I don't know how far-reaching the plot is. I don't know who is involved. They only person I can trust that knows everyone is Henry."

Jonathan clenched his jaw and sighed heavily. He did not like my plan, but he knew I was right. There was nobody else to help. I was just now returning and for all, I knew Cassius's best friend could be the plotter. His family was distantly related to the king. He could easily have turned and decided he was better suited to wear the crown.

"How do you plan on getting me back to court?" Henry asked.

"I'll discuss it with the king. Hopefully, he has forgiven you and will listen to reason."

"Good luck. The man is the most stubborn, bullheaded person alive. You know what happens when anyone disagrees with him or tries to change his mind."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. He'll understand if it means saving his life," I said.

The journey back to the castle seemed to go by faster than your journey away. Everything was dark and quiet when we returned. I hoped nobody noticed I was missing.

"Where are you staying, Jonathan?"

"With the Brandon's."

"The Brandon's?"

"They are supporters of the Guild."

"Exactly how many people know about the Guild? Do they know I'm an assassin?"

"They're the only ones I know of, Joselyn. They know because their great aunt was an assassin for the king of Portugal," he said. "They offer house and safe passage to anyone who is a friend of the assassins now."

"Do they know of me?"

"No. They do not know who the assassins are. They just offer us house and passage. They've been especially kind since I'm trying to help save the king," Jonathan responded.

"Would they allow Henry to stay?" I asked.

"I don't know. I can probably convince them."

"Good. You two go to the Brandon's. I'm going to try and sneak in without being caught."

I waved farewell as the pair rode away.

The castle was quiet. I strode past the banquet hall and you couldn't even tell there was a feast the night before.

"Lady Joselyn?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned toward the deep voice behind me. "Yes?"

"His majesty, the king, requests your presence."

I grimaced and lowered my head. "Where is King Cassius?"

"His chambers, ma'am."

"Of course, he is."

"I'm sorry?"
"Lead the way," I said.

I followed the sentry. The only sound heard echoing down the long, cold corridor was the clicking of my shoes. Past the throne room, past the staircase leading to my chambers.

Could I escape and run to my room? Could I hide under my blankets and not see Cassius? No. It's not possible.

The king's chambers were at the end of the long corridor. Elaborate doors lead to his sitting room.

"He's waiting for you inside," the guard said, turning on his heels and walking away.

"Of course, he is," I mumbled under my breath.

My heart thudded in my chest. What could the king want? Did he know I was gone? I swallowed the lump in my throat, took a deep breath, and knocked on his door.

"Enter."

I closed my eyes and trying to steady my breathing. I grasped the ornate handle and slowly opened the door.

"You requested my presence, my lord?"

"Joselyn. Where have you been?"

I pursed my lips and diverted my gaze. My mouth had gone dry and words escaped me. He was going to be upset when he found out where I had gone.

"I'm waiting, Joselyn. I don't like to wait."

"I had business to attend to," I said softly.

He furrowed his brow and studied my face. "What kind of business?"

"Saving your life business, your majesty."

He stood from a chair near the fire; his sleeping robs hanging loose on his marvelously sculpted body. He reached up and unfastened my cloak, allowing it to fall to the floor. My breast rose and fell under my ragged breathing. I chewed my bottom lip, hoping he wouldn't put in an impossible position.

His cold hand trailed from my check down my neck. I shivered under the touch.

"Cassius..."

"You never answered me earlier."

"About what?" I inquired.

"Being mine. Solidifying our relationship."

"I can't. I did tell you that. I'm your assassin. I can't be your wife."

"Leave that life. Let them find me another assassin. I want you as my queen."

"Cassius, please, you know that's not possible."

"I can't help how I feel about you, Joselyn."

I grabbed his hand and pushed it away from my face.

Damn him!

"Is there someone else?" he asked.

My heart lurched. Should I tell him the truth? Do I tell him I fell in love with my guide?

"We need to keep our relationship the way it's meant to be. I'm your assassin," I replied, hoping my answer would satisfy him.

He sighed heavily and returned to his seat. "Do you have any idea who's behind the attempts?"

"Not yet, but I have someone who may be able to help me. "

"Who?"

"You won't be happy about it but keep an open mind."

"Who, Joselyn?" He narrowed his eyes at me and sat up in his chair.

"Henry Elmsworth."

"What? Absolutely not!"

"Cassius..."

"No, Joselyn. I will not have that philandering liar in my life."

"He's miserable."

"As he should be." Cassius grabbed his wine glass and threw it into the fire.

Flames erupted from the flue and sizzled as the liquid evaporated.

"You are being unreasonable."

"He married my sister then slept with every lady who would bed him."

"He has no self-control, but he can be an asset. He knows everyone in court. He can point me in the right direction."

"You assume the mastermind is someone at my own court?" Cassius asked taken aback.

"Who else could turn a lord against you?"

"Who do you presume is the responsible party?"

"I really don't know, Cassius. It could be anyone."

He sat back and let his head fall into his hands. He didn't want to die, and I wasn't about to let someone murder him.