In that instant, he knew he loved her, that the emotion building within his breast was not mere fondness. It was love. He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone or anything.
Although Will would never agree to be the sovereign captain of these rebelling ruffians, for now he would do whatever was necessary to protect the woman and the family he loved.
* * *
Marian’s neck stung painfully, but she bit back her complaints and focused instead on Robert and Phillip throughout the long night. Although Phillip had been brave for a boy of eight, he finally curled up against her with Robert and slept.
She tried to stay awake so she could listen to the discussion between Will, Wat Tyler, and several of the other leaders within the group. But eventually she gave in to sleep too.
She heard enough to understand that Will had no choice but to go along with Wat. Although Will argued eloquently and presented a multitude of considerations against becoming their captain, Wat Tyler remained steadfast in his insistence. The rebel leader didn’t say so, but it was clear that Will would join their cause or lose his family.
Apparently Wat had seen what Marian had when Will had stormed into the great hall with his sword drawn, effortlessly cutting down anyone in his path. Will was mercilessly determined to save his family. He’d do anything to keep them from harm. He’d kill anyone. He’d sacrifice his own life. And he’d even align himself with his enemy.
Maybe Wat had known all that ahead. Maybe that’s why he came to Chesterfield Park. And maybe that’s why he cornered the boys and her first.
Whatever the case, Marian sensed she and the boys would be safe as long as Will did exactly what Wat asked of him. At first she found a measure of comfort in the realization that Will would go to any lengths to protect them.
However, that comfort had dissolved into fear as she’d begun to understand why Will was able to sacrifice himself so willingly. Yes, he was noble and honorable and placed their needs above his own. But ultimately, he loathed himself, didn’t believe he deserved to live. Such self-hatred pushed him to a recklessness that could someday end in his death.
The very prospect chilled her to the bone.
In the morning, Sarah roused Marian. Around them, the men were rolling blankets, strapping on weapons, and preparing to be on their way. The air was sour with the stench of so many unwashed bodies, and after just one day, the sweet scents from her bath were gone.
Sarah, who had tended her wound, now silently pressed a bundle and a leather jug into her arms, as she did to each of the boys. Then, the same peasants who had guarded them all through the night forced them to their feet and hustled them outside. Ahead, Will was mounted on his horse next to Wat Tyler, speaking with the man in hushed tones. Outfitted in his padded gambeston and chain mail, Will had his weapons in hand and a squire on the horse next to him.
She paused and waited for Will to see and acknowledge her. But he was apparently too consumed with his conversation to give her notice.
Thad assisted her onto a horse and placed Robert in the saddle in front of her, thankfully giving the boy the reins. Marian had seen Robert ride, and at six he was much better at handling the horse than she was. In truth, he was an expert compared to her.
If only Phillip could have his horse. She strained to see him among the group of men on foot. Upon glimpsing him, she gasped. Someone had stolen his pack and jug. And now his hands were tied behind his back and a rope wound around his neck. He held his chin high, and his mouth was set with the same determination she’d seen in Will’s expression. Clearly he planned to bear the situation with dignity and courage—just as his father would.
Even so, indignation swelled within Marian’s chest, especially at the sight of the coarse hemp already chafing the boy’s fair skin. Boys his age were supposed to play Little League baseball, build forts in the woods, and watch Star Wars. Weren’t they?
Marian started to slide off her horse, determined to take Phillip’s place, but Thad forced her back up.
“Let me down.” She glared at him. “I’m planning to walk.”
“My lady.” Thad didn’t relinquish his grip upon her, his splotchy face growing redder. “Sir William wants you to remain on the mare with the young lad.”
“I want Phillip to ride instead.”
“Sir William insists.”
As though sensing the commotion, Will’s gaze shot her direction. The stark desperation in his stunning blue eyes rent her heart in half. She could only imagine his agony at seeing his son bound so viciously.
He shifted his gaze to Thad and nodded curtly.
Thad produced a rope and started to unravel it. “If you try getting down, the master’s instructed me to bind you to the horse.”
The words gave Marian pause, and her sights returned to Will. But he’d already nudged his horse forward, his stiff back turned to her, the matter settled. How could he let his son endure such humiliation and pain without making an effort to stop it?
“No telling what they might do to you, lady.” Thad’s eyes beseeched her to comprehend his meaning. “But they durst not harm the lad.”
With a sickening lump forming in her stomach, she nodded. She finally understood. As a woman, she was dispensable, worthless, and in much more danger. Will was doing his best to protect her, and she needed to trust his wisdom and decisions.
Thad roped their bundles onto the saddle before patting the horse’s flank and stepping back. Even though Thad had allowed Wat Tyler into the manor, Marian understood he’d only done so to avoid bloodshed and protect everyone. Now he took his place among the men of his own rank, as much a prisoner as Will.
As they started out the gates of Chesterfield Park, Marian glanced behind to the magnificent stonework, the large windows, the entrance with two open arches, and the hall tower on the east end. While not as sprawling or magnificent as the modern home, it was still impressive.
And it felt like home. It had been a safe and comfortable place amidst the dangers and disorder of 1381. Now she was being thrust out into the middle of a rebellion. From her previous research into the uprising, she knew the outcome already. The revolt wouldn’t last more than another week before it was squelched.
In the meantime, however, thousands of people—nobility and peasant alike—would be slaughtered.
Marian could only pray, desperately, that Will and his sons wouldn’t be among those who died. And that she wouldn’t be either.
~ 22 ~
MARIAN HUDDLED against Robert and Phillip in the darkness. Even though the June night was balmy and the sky studded with stars, she couldn’t get warm. She’d been shivering off and on since the horde had stopped earlier in the evening.
After four days of being on the road, the peasants had steadily gained more followers until the ranks swelled beyond what her eyes could see. If she had to guess, she would say at least twenty—if not thirty—thousand had congregated, with more arriving every hour, not only from Kent but also from Essex, Sussex, Staffordshire, and Bedfordshire.
Robert had predicted they were heading toward London. And he’d been right. The boy had been an astute guide as they made their way slowly to Rochester and Rochester Castle, which Wat Tyler had taken without a fight. The lord, a knight by the name of Sir John, had been forced to join the peasant ranks the same way Will had, with his family held hostage.