No. She has to meet Merthin as her father wanted.

"Thank you for your offer but it is important we meet Merthin before nightfall."

"Perhaps it's just as well. My wife might be unsettled having such a beautiful woman under the roof. And my sons might feel the hand of temptation." Left unsaid was the temptation he would have felt knowing that this dainty young woman with her pretty pace and fierce determination lay sleeping under his roof.

"Surely not." The Verderer's words reminded Christine that she was no longer in the safety of Castle Gerard.

The Verderer lifted Erik off the horse. He then stared at a smiling Christine who had a glint of mischief in her eyes. She clearly enjoyed the attention, and slowly brought her left leg over the horse. Christine then stretched out her arms for the Verderer to lift her down. He admitted, "I am a man. I know how men act and feel, Miss ..."

"It's Evelyn, Master Verderer." If Erik was surprised by her easy lie, he hid it well. Christine hated having to sin in this way, but her oath to protect Erik was paramount."

"Very well, Miss Evelyn." He stepped between Christine legs and placed his hands around her slender waist. It was an intimate position and for one crazy moment, he wanted to do nothing than show this young woman what a man might do with an innocent like her. Were they not on a busy street he could easily imagine pulling up her thick skirts and slipping his cock between her tight folds. Instead, he settled for pressing her against him, feeling her firm breasts against his chest as she slowly slipped to the ground. Her small hands on his shoulders filled him with youthful excitement.

"We must be off," Christine had to fight the desire to abandon her mission and beg this man to take her to his house, "but please point my brother and I in the direction of Gold Street."

"Head towards the Spire. It's just off the cathedral square." The Verderer smiled. "Stay safe."

~

The ancient city of Oldchester is a giant spider web of winding narrow streets draped over several hills and across a wide mercantile river. Its streets are always full of traders and chancers selling their goods, some even selling themselves. Indeed, on most streets is seems that for every trader there is a whore and ten willing customers.

Sat upon the hill was the sheriff's keep that was built amongst the ruins of a roman citadel and we're most likely the verderer was off to.

The houses were higgledy piggledy and mostly two-storied with cramped lofts, except for merchant houses down at the riverside or those of the clergy near the Gothic cathedral.

The air was a mass of competing smells from bakers, cookhouses, butchers, and fishmongers. But the smell of excrement and waste was never far from the noses. The smell was complemented by a soundtrack of competing sellers and drunken louts.

Like most towns an open sewer ran down the middle of the main streets. Christine tried to keep her shoes clear of muck, but as she did, she saw a half-naked child fighting amongst the filth with a huge rat over some rotten giblets. The warring pair were driven away in turn by a drunken mass brawl that fell out a door of a tavern into the street.

Welcome to City life.

The sun was already beginning to settle towards the horizon by the time they arrived in the city, and the high walls around them made it even darker. Christine and Erik hurried towards the cathedral and muttered silent prayers to improve their chances of success. The houses grew bigger and more prosperous as the cathedral slowly came into view.

Finally, they found Gold Street.

Gold Street was as grand as the name suggests, it was clean and neatly organized with large stone-built houses with tiled roofs. And sure enough, Merthin's sign hung from the grandest of all. It was clear he was a wealthy man indeed.

A thickset armed guard stood at the entrance. His yellow tunic showed he wasn't of the town watch or the crown but a private soldier.

Ideally Christine would have liked time to clean herself up. She knew she looked like a roughian, having swam across a moat, slept in a wood and walked a full day. Not to mention almost being ****. But she didn't have a choice, so she knew she had to sound confident and use her real name in the hope it would strike a chord with the guard. "My name is Christine, Baron Bartholomew's only daughter. I'm here to visit Merthin the notary."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

The guard gave Christine's dirty face and unkempt hair little more than a glance. He thought her nothing but a street urchin putting on a posh accent. "Go on. Off with you beggars and take your runt of a brother with you."

"That's no way to talk to a Baroness."

"A Baroness? Yeah, and I'm the pope's friendly lap dog."

Christine tried to sound as regal as possible and raised onto her toes as she spoke, "I'll make Merthin aware of your tardiness. if you don't inform Merthin of my arrival."

"Piss off." She could use her father's ring to prove her story, but that came with risks of its own, so Christine tried once again to **** the man to at least see her in.

"Then you leave me **** but to report you, and not just to your employer. But to the sheriff too."

"As if."

"I am a Baroness." Christine trough back her cloak and placed her hands on her hips, staring at the man with the full **** of her station. It had little effect.

"With tits like those, you're more likely a strumpet. In fact, as you're being followed around by your brother. I guess you're probably being whored out by your mother in order to put food on the family table."

Christine felt incandescent with rage. She stepped up in front of him. "How rude!"

"Go away before I pull up your skirts and give your bare arse a good hard slapping in front of everyone."

"I swear on Christ's Holy name, I'm Christine Gerard. My father, Baron Bartholomew, has been attacked by Henry the Black Prince, and my brother and I have escaped with our lives. Hence our unfortunate condition."

The guard could see that Christine was overcome with emotion as she fought back tears. For the first time, the guard began to sense the emotion was genuine. Despite being covered in mud he also noticed that her clothes we're made of fine material. So maybe she wasn't a hoaxer after all. "Stay here. I'll ask Merthin on your behalf. But if you're taking the piss, your plump arse is mine, and I'm not going to pay you for it, either."

Christine waited. And waited some more. She wasn't used to waiting and found it infuriating. Erik tugged on his sister's long sleeve. "What do you think is happening?"

"I don't know."

"The guard was mean."

"He is nothing but a common thug. An oaf. I've never, ever been talked to like that."

Erik glanced at his tired feet. "I don't like him."

"Neither do I."

"What did he mean when he said, your arse was his? And he won't pay for it?"

"I don't know. But I dread to think." Christine was seething with too much anger to think. Her hope faded with every passing minute.

The door finally opened, and the guard stepped out. "It's your lucky day. You may enter."

~

Christine and Erik walked into a large room that was lit with a large candelabra. Mertin sat at a long table which was covered in various parchments. Christine, still seething after her mistreatment from the guard ordered, "Merthin. I demand that you sack your guard. He is beyond rude. He is offensive."

"I'll do no such thing."

She didn't let Merthin's apparent indifference put her off her stride. "I know I need to wash, and a change of clothes. Also, a good meal and sleep for that matter. But I am a lady and should be treated with respect. And even if I was a mere commoner… he shouldn't threaten to give my bottom a good spanking in public."

Merthin coldly advised, "Climb off your high horse before you fall off. I'm afraid you are commoner now, like the rest of us folk."

"What?"

"Your father is now known to be an enemy of the Realm. He is a prisoner of the Crown on the orders of Prince Henry, who is to be coronated next week on mid summer's day. "

"What on earth?"

Merthin stood from his chair. "I shouldn't need to explain to a woman. But seeing as it's you, " He gestured for her to sit at the table and pointed at a scroll. "Christine. Here. You can read, can't you?"

"Of course."

"Maybe, explain to your brother."

Indeed, the scroll bared the royal seal and it read that as an enemy of the crown that Bartholomew Gerard faced trial in the royal court and is to have his land confiscated as well as all titles, properties and privileges. If found guilty he would face ****. It struck fear into her heart and great sadness weighed down her soul. "My father is a great man, Merthin."

"He was. Don't forget, I knew him personally. But he was too principled for his own good, plotting against Prince Henry. He was just out maneuvered."

"Father would never do such a thing. He's been double crossed. I'll prove it." It then dawned on Christine that this meant she was now a lowly commoner with no means or resources for such a task. "Won't you help me?"

"No." There was no indecision in the man's tone.

Christine handed over her own letter from her father, "Well I will take what is mine and will leave you be." She watched as Merthin broke the seal on the letter, and felt her stomach tighten through tension and hunger.

"How am I supposed to read this?"

"What?"

"The ink has run. Not a single legible word."

"No!" Christine snatched the letter of Merthin. It was true. The impromptu swim in the most had proved fatal for the letter.

"But you still have my father's money."

"All his money has gone to the crown."

Christine didn't believe Merthin. "You're a charlatan."

"I assure you, I don't have a penny, I'm afraid."

"Well, what am I and Erik to do now? Father said you would look after us."

Merthin stood his ground. "Just having you here is enough to have me hanged. As a model citizen I will refuse you help."

"I'm ****. We're innocent and homeless through no fault of our own."

Merthin called the guard. "Jacob. See these two treacherous youngsters out."

Christine pleaded, "You can't do this. We're children with nowhere to go. With no means or no idea on how to look after ourselves."

"It is your father who has let you down. Not I."

"Father said you had agreed to support our family in our time of need. He gave you the money to do so."

"That agreement was voided as soon as he went against the Crown. He is a traitor. It is simple as that.' Merthin gestured angrily to the guard. "Get them out. If they cause a scene send them to the goaler."

"Yes, sir."

The guard picked up Erik and lifted him off his feet with one strong fistful of his shirt. Erik's kicking and screaming didn't make a difference. With his other hand, the guard grabbed Christine by her hair. She screamed at Merthin. "You despicable dog! You dastardly, dastardly dog. You'll swing for this. I'll see you hanged."