The King's Left Arm

"Another round, wench!"

Knox watched the barmaid heft a pitcher of foaming ale and make her way toward the rowdy bunch at the center table. They’d been in the King’s Left Arm since before he arrived, becoming more obnoxious with each cup they downed. The woman leaned over to place the pitcher on their table, obviously trying to avoid the pinches that went along with her job.

"Hie, wench, rest yourself!" One man grabbed her by her hips, yanking her backward onto his lap, twisting her to land facing him. He buried his face against her breasts, fumbling with her bodice lacings. The woman grabbed a handy wooden mug and smacked her attacker soundly on the head. Knox winced at the crack of wood on bone – the woman was stronger than she appeared. The drunk let go of her, and she slipped free. While his friends roared with laughter, the woman planted her hands on her hips and turned to face the table.

"I’ll leave that pitcher and ye can pour for yerselves, lads. I’m no side-street tart for yer usin’, not that ye’d know what to do with one anyway." She marched back to the bar, ignoring the cheers behind her.

Knox pulled his hood further over his head, returning his attention to the mug before him. His ship wouldn’t depart until the tide turned after midnight, and sitting here with a cup of hot mulled wine had seemed preferable to standing in the cold rain on the dock. But neither place banished the agony of his memories. No matter how much wine he drank, he couldn’t erase the sound of Angeline’s gasps for breath, the image of her face turning gray with death as her own husband choked the life from her.

"My lord, is there somethin’ wrong with yer wine?" The barmaid was staring at him curiously. He hadn’t even heard her approach. He needed to exercise more care than that, from now on. He was a wanted man, after all.

"No, lass, it’s fine." He tipped the cup and swallowed what was left, grimacing at the herb dregs from the bottom of the cup. "May I have another?"

She smiled. "Comin’ up, my lord." She was as good as her word, returning only moments later with a steaming cup of wine. She withdrew a small white bag from her skirt pocket. "This little pouch was me mum’s idea. Ye put the herbs in it, then steep it in the hot wine. That way there won’t be any mush at the bottom of yer cup."

"I’m impressed," Knox admitted. He picked up the looped end of the bag’s string, and moved the little bag around in the drink. "But why do you keep calling me ‘lord’?"

"Only palace folk drink their wine hot."

Another thing he’d have to watch from now on. He stared at the steam curling from the surface. Perhaps ale wouldn’t be so bad. Others seemed to enjoy it. People who had no bounty on their heads.

"My name’s Branda." The barmaid slid into the chair opposite him. "I’m terrible good at listenin’, I am. Maybe ye tell me yer troubles, and ye’ll feel a bit better."

Was this how the common people handled their problems? He’d lived at court since he was twelve, when his family apprenticed him to the old king’s moneytender. He knew the ways of noble intrigue, knew them as well as he knew his own face in the mirror, but that life was over. It had died when he ran away from his murdered lover.

"I couldn’t burden you, my dear," he said, at last. How could he tell her he was a wanted man, with a substantial bounty on his head? The bounty was enough to feed a common family for months. He couldn’t expect someone like her to ignore it.

"It’s love ye’re sufferin’ from, aye?" Branda shook her head, clearly determined to get his story. "Tales of love always find a home in my heart, my lord. What happened? She wouldn’t have you?"

"She was so lonely," he said, his voice cracking. "So sweet of face, you’d expect men to fight each other for her attention. To him, she was only a political advantage. He had no interest in her other than that."

"Her husband?"

"Yes." Knox took a long swallow of the wine, remembering. "At first, I was only trying to ease her pain. She knew no one from this country, having been brought here for marriage. I spoke her native language, so I tried to make her feel at home. She enjoyed chess, and music. As did I. We became more than friends. Much more. Before we knew what was happening, she found herself with child. My child."

"Why didn’t the two of ye run off together, start a new life somewhere?" Branda’s eyes were shining as she gazed at him. Poor thing, she still thought such tales were romantic.

"She couldn’t bring herself to leave her husband without telling him why. I told her she was too forthright for her own good. But she insisted. I begged her to wait until I could be by her side." Tears rose in his eyes. "I don’t know what forced her hand, but she didn’t wait…and now she’s…" He picked up his cup and drained it, leaving only Branda’s forlorn herb bag in the bottom.

"Yer story’s a heartbreakin’ one, my lord." Branda patted his hand. "I wish there was somethin’ else I could do for ye."

He’d said too much. If the word of the bounty reached this far, she might make the connection, and turn him in. It was time for him to make his way to the docks, where freedom waited. Knox reached for his pouch, to pay for the wine. Suddenly his fingers fumbled. His hand was cold, and he couldn’t grasp the coins to draw one out. His tongue was swelling, filling his mouth and keeping him from his words. His lungs tightened, and his heart began slamming against his chest. He raised his eyes to the barmaid.

"Lily of the valley, my lord," she murmured. "Deadly poison, but it wasn’t as if I could cut you here, in front of all these men. They think me a goodly barmaid, and I intend they should keep thinking it."

His sight grew dim, and her voice seemed to echo from a long way off.

"Ye’re a palace man, Master Knox," she smiled sweetly. "Surely ye’ve heard of the King’s Left Arm?"

Branda’s face darkened, just like Angeline’s had. Her eyes were the only thing Knox could see. They shone through the gathering darkness, like stars at twilight.

"The King’s Left Arm does what his right cannot."

Copyright 2007 Misty Massey  Originally appeared in Horizons Anthology, 1999