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Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. PART II
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. PART III
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. INTERLUDE
  35. PART IV
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. INTERLUDE
  45. PART V
  46. THIRTY-FIVE
  47. THIRTY-SIX
  48. THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. THIRTY-EIGHT
  50. PART VI
  51. THIRTY-NINE
  52. FORTY
  53. FORTY-ONE
  54. FORTY-TWO
  55. FORTY-THREE
  56. FORTY-FOUR
  57. FORTY-FIVE
  58. INTERLUDE
  59. PART VII
  60. FORTY-SIX
  61. FORTY-SEVEN
  62. FORTY-EIGHT
  63. FORTY-NINE
  64. FIFTY
  65. FIFTY-ONE
  66. FIFTY-TWO
  67. PART VIII
  68. FIFTY-THREE
  69. FIFTY-FOUR
  70. FIFTY-FIVE
  71. FIFTY-SIX
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  75. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  76. Newsletter Sign-up

“Limp-wristed fop, where is he?” Oughtibridge drove every inch of his significant body closer to Guy. His moustache was thick and wrapped all the way down and up to his ears again, giving the remarkable impression that his hair itself was trying to reach around and suffocate him.

“The Sheriff is unavailable,” Guy lied. “I will convey your displeasure if you like. My men can see to your taxes.”

“You’d best convey it well,” the lord snarled, but his lips pulled back into something that gave all other smiles a bad name. “You see to it that he gets these taxes, directly, you understand?”

“Of course.”

“Open it then,” he stepped back.

Guy was immediately suspicious, but there was no reason to find danger in a coinchest. Guy signaled two of his men from the edge of the tables to claim the thing, while Guy knelt down to unlock its clasp. He could smell something foul as his face moved closer, but did not expect what he found when its lid flipped open.

“What is this?” Guy asked, recoiling, though he knew the answer.

“Horseshit,” the Lord Oughtibridge announced proudly. The chest was full to the brim with it, a mix of dry and wet clumps smashed into each other, seeping from the corners. Guy realized some of it was on his fingers from the clasp itself. He flicked it off and a chill ripped through his spine.

“Horseshit, because that’s what these taxes are,” the lord continued. “If I’m going to pay something, I’m supposed to get something in return. I told the tax collectors he sent, but the Sheriff clearly hasn’t gotten the message. I can’t travel anywhere without being harassed by these damned thieves in the forest, and de Lacy refuses to do anything about it. Until he can secure his own goddamned roads, I’m not paying a single fucking shilling.”

Guy watched the man strut back to the Temperance Line and grab an empty bowl from beside the pot of porridge, startling Devon down to his nethers.

“And this is the topper,” Oughtibridge cackled. “This is how he’s spending it. Here. If he wants to take my taxes and give it to the people…” he scraped the bowl into the chest to scoop out a slop of the excrement, then marched back to the line. “… then eat up!”

The bells from St. Peter called out a deep slow call to mass, and on the third strike Lord Oughtibridge dropped the entire bowl, shit and all, into the porridge.

THIRTY

WILLIAM DE WENDENAL

NOTTINGHAM CASTLE

OVER THE COURSE OF a thousand years, William explained, erosion could carve a gullet through a smooth field and cut it in two. He had watched the same principles lay waste to Nottinghamshire in a mere three weeks.