Free The Maiden and the Unicorn by Isolde Martyn Page B

sounded surprised.
    "Your grace, acquiring information from your wretched Receiver is like trying to extract a healthy tooth from a dragon."
    The King lazily stretched his arms above his head, raising his eyebrows as if he was not sure how to answer before letting his arms drop and reaching out a nonchalant hand for the ladle. "Well, there are amends to make—Ouch!" He swore as the metal burnt him. "But first your news."
    He gave her his full attention, waiting on her himself with wine and sweet cakes and only interrupting softly now and then as she told him how she had been swiftly sent away from Warwick castle in disgrace in case she was with child by him, of the time in the nunnery and how her exile had lasted until the recent Yuletide. With care, she explained how she had spent the time since then with the Countess and her daughters while Warwick and Clarence had provoked the rebellion in the north. Then her sentences grew superlatives. The King listened frowning to her narration of how Richard Stone had suddenly abducted her and his royal jaw slackened somewhat as Margery ended, reiterating, "Ned, I implore you if you send for me again, please do not have me abducted in a vegetable sack, trussed like a fowl."
    He once more offered her the plate of oatcakes before he answered. "Touching your honour, though?"
    She laughed. "My... my questionable honour has not been touched."
    "I am relieved to hear you say that."
    "But what I do not understand, my liege, is why you had me brought to you."
    The King did not answer at first. His chin slumped on his chest; he stared dreamily into the fire. The crackling of the logs dominated the silence between them.
    Eventually he raised his head. "Your present situation concerns me greatly. With the Earl a fugitive, you need a protector."
    "Why, I suppose that's true." She shrugged ruefully. "But at least I have no guardian telling me what to do."
    "Oh yes, you have, my Meg. That task falls to me. It seems you need a husband, Margery of Warwick. A worthy respectable man to protect and honour you. You have worn a harlot's necklace because of me and that must end."
    "Oh no!" she exclaimed vehemently. "Your grace is generous but I cannot accept."
    "Nonsense, Meg dear, you must allow me to compensate you for your ruined virtue."
    "Ned... my liege lord... please listen to me." She leaned forward, her hands twisting in her lap. "I would rather earn my keep than be in any man's debt. Is there a place for me as a servant in the Queen's household?" She knew the answer even before her king gave a deep sigh and shook his head. "Because of my ignoble birth?"
    "Let us just say that you are one of Warwick's household. My Queen is not overly fond of those who wear the Neville badge."
    Margery tried to hide her disappointment. "I suppose she knows of me as well."
    "Yes, I imagine she does. You see, it would not suit." He leaned back and regarded her thoughtfully. "I do have an office that you may perform. Something that you of all people could do better than any other servant we possess." There was the weight of kingship in his voice now. "If you can accomplish this successfully, we shall give you an annuity and the independence you so wish for."
    "I, your grace? What could I possibly do?"
    "Heal the breach between me and my treacherous kinsmen. I want you to find Warwick and Clarence wherever they are and give them letters. They have to be brought back into the sheepfold."
    "Surely, your grace, the situation is past my capability as a sheepdog. You have whistled and they have made away with half the flock. If the Countess speaks true, there is too much hurt between my lord and you."
    She remembered the Earl white-hot with anger a few weeks past at the mere mention of Ned's name.
    "Do you want them to remain in exile, Meg, or see another war?" As she shook her head gravely at him, he sat forward. "I need a messenger that no one will suspect to carry secret letters to my brother Clarence. All of us wish him