Altered Destinies- Earth Reborn

by Yvonne Hertzberger

  Phaera gave him a steady look, then a slow nod. “I understand. And what of your mother? She may also be a target.”

  “She will not stay at the castle. But we have stationed four guards to protect her at all times. She tried to forbid that but Lord Makin insists.”

  “Good.”

  A guard opened the door to the dining chamber to admit them. Before proceeding to her chair she looked at Bain and added. “I do hope she will visit often, as I doubt I shall have the freedom to go to her.”

  His response was a questioning tilt of the head, one eyebrow raised. “My hope is that she does not dismiss her guards or slip away from them. No one knows the countryside better than she.”

  The meal was a hurried, simple affair; porridge, cheese, fresh bread, butter and honey, boiled eggs, and sage tea. No one spoke of war; indeed no one said much of anything at all. Lord Makin looked grim, Lady Flor worried.

  As soon as they had eaten Lord Makin rose. “Come, Bain, it is time. The first troops have already gone. We join the second unit. When we reach the gate you will split off to the east with half the men to join the fifty that have already gone that way.”

  He turned to the women. “Ladies, your horses have been saddled and your guards wait with them. You may ride with us to the gates but no further and must return immediately.”

  Bain glanced back at Phaera as he followed Lord Makin out. She looked pale but strong. Lady Flor hid her concern less well. He thought he saw her bottom lip tremble before she stilled it between her teeth.

  At the gates the four dismounted for their last farewells. When Bain embraced Phaera she hugged him back fiercely. As he let her go she grabbed his arm and said, low so that only he could hear, “Come back to me, my love. Come back to me whole.”

  Bain’s heart swelled with joy. She loves me. Oh fortune be praised. But to Phaera all he said was, “I swear it, my love.”

  The men leapt back onto their mounts. Lord Makin turned to address the troops. “Brave men of Marston. We go to fight an evil. But we will return victorious. We will quell that evil and we will return to peace and to our families. Are you ready to fight for them?”

  A roar set up from the men, along with thumping of chests and clanking of swords against shields. Bain could not still a wave of pride and excitement. May I become such a leader as he. I will make you proud, Father. I swear it.

  With an imperious raise of his hand Lord Makin turned to lead the men out of the gate. Bain hurried to come astride. They exited the gate side by side.

  Bain managed one quick glance backward to catch sight of Phaera and raised a hand when he spotted her standing straight and tall beside her horse. When she returned the gesture his last thought, before turning his attention back to his father was, be safe, my love.

  An hour’s ride brought them to the dividing point. Lord Makin turned to Bain. “My son, you know what must be done.”

  “I will not fail you, my lord.”

  “If our allies stand behind us this will be a short conflict. But not all will return whole or alive. I need you here as my heir. Do not act the coward – but also, do not act in haste. Your life is more valuable than the rest. Do not forget this.”

  Bain had heard the admonishment before and, while a part of him wanted to lead and to be the first in danger, he understood the importance of his survival, both to his father and to his people. “I will remember what you have taught me. You may rely on it.” Is that pride I see in his eyes?

  “Lord Bain, lead your men away. May success be with you.” Lord Makin gave Bain the traditional salute, fist to heart, and waited.

  After returning the salute Bain turned to face the men assigned to him. He lifted his arm in the air fist clenched. “Men, follow me,” turned and rode away, not looking back. The men galloped after him in a cloud of dust that soon blocked any view of his father or the men that rode in the other direction. I will be worthy.

  Bain pressed hard and by midday he and his men caught up to the troop that had gone ahead. Their captain immediately handed over command to Bain.

  “Any news, Captain?”

  “Nothing, Lord Bain. All is quiet. We will reach the border by dusk. May I suggest we set camp there? The scouts have not returned.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps it would be best to wait for their reports before proceeding.”

  “I agree, Captain.” He met the man’s gaze and added, “Captain Reynce, you are a man of training and experience. Never hold back on suggesting strategy to me. While I may not always agree I will welcome your opinions and will consider them.”

  The captain looked relieved. “I will remember that, Lord Bain.”

  “Good. Our goal is to win this war. Pride must never interfere.”

  A short time later a figure slipped from between the trees to their left, arm upraised in salute. The captain raised his arm in reply. “That is Durn, one of the scouts.”

  Bain nodded and halted his horse, waiting for the man to approach. “What news?”

  “Ah, Lord Bain. You have made good time.” He saluted before answering. “All is quiet to the north-east. The local citizens say they have seen no strangers and I have seen nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Good. Ride with us until we set camp and have eaten. We will await news from the south before sending you with new orders.”

  The scout saluted and stepped back, making way for Bain to pass. The captain, who had waited behind Bain to hear the scout’s report, came alongside.

  “Let us hope Merkel also has no news. We can hope that Mathune’s men have not reached this far yet.”

  “Agreed. But I will not assume so even if we receive no news. If his reputation is correct he is devious. I have no doubt he has men who manage not to attract attention.”

  The captain nodded. “Indeed.”

  By the time the second scout returned camp had been set and stew kettles bubbled over fires. This scout also had nothing to report. Weary men sat on blankets or a fallen log to the side of the clearing, the only exceptions being the six men the captain had set on watch. These stood looking outward scanning the trees for movement.

  A scuffle and muffled voices caught Bain’s attention. He turned toward the sound to see two of the guards holding a man by the arms between them and propelling him forward to stand before him.

  “This man was found skulking through the forest.” The soldier gave his prisoner a hard shake but did not let go of the arm he held.

  The prisoner looked terrified. Bain could see that he had not lived rough. His tunic was of fine cloth and his boots had not seen hard use. His hands had no callouses. The man looked like he would be more at home in an inn drinking wine, or dancing at court, than travelling alone in the forest.

  “Have you anything to say, sir?”

  The man nodded vigorously before stammering, “I carry a message from Kort.”

  Bain turned to the man still holding the prisoner, the other having let go but still ready to grab him should he try to run. “Let him go. He is here to speak to me.” Bain looked around until he located the captain and caught his eye.

  At a jerk of Bain’s head the captain set down his bowl of stew and hurried over. The prisoner still stood, shaking visibly, the two soldiers only a step away, ready to seize him. “Leave us. I am in no danger.” The soldiers backed off, looking dubious.

  Bain turned his attention back to the prisoner. “What is your name?”

  “Ferrin, my lord.”

  “Welcome Ferrin. You have news?”

  “I do.”

  “Captain, have one of the men bring our guest food and drink. We will meet in my tent.” He turned back to Ferrin. “Come. We will not be overheard there.”

  Bain’s tent had been set up to one side a short way apart from the rest. The corral with the horses stood between his tent and the forest guarded by two of the men on watch.

  “So, Ferrin, what is the message from Kort.”

  The three men sat huddled on the floor of Bain’s tent.
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  Ferrin had stopped shaking but still looked nervous and had difficulty controlling his stammer. “I come from Thoren in Kinterron. Kort…” he looked at Bain. When Bain nodded recognition Ferrin continued. “He met with myself and two others at an inn and informed us of your need.” When Bain nodded again he said. “We are all sworn to your service.”

  “Thank you. Please go on.”

  Ferrin hesitated, sending a sideways glance in the captain’s direction. When both men remained silent he took a deep breath. “I overheard three men sitting at a corner table. They spoke quietly but I have excellent hearing … they said … Mathune has sent spies to Marston. They knew Lord Danza and Lady Phaera had journeyed there.” He stopped and a small smile played over his lips. “I do not think they knew of your marriage, Lord Bain. I congratulate you.”

  When Bain’s only response was a nod he went on, suddenly serious and frightened again. “They said Mathune would have her before the passing of a fortnight. They laughed over Mathune boasting that ‘the healer would need a healer’ … Forgive me Lord Bain.”

  Bain felt as though an icy wind passed over him. “How many men? Do you know?”

  “They did not say.”

  “Spies … so not obvious. Did they say anything about what route they would take?”

  “Nothing, Lord Bain. This is all I know.”

  “How long since you overheard this?”

  “Evening before yesterday. I came immediately to bring the news.”

  “You have done well.” Bain knew the man was exhausted and ought to rest. But Phaera and Lady Flor, possibly even his mother, were in danger. “Ferrin, are you able to go on to Marston castle? The commander there must be informed immediately. I hope we are not already too late. ”

  Ferrin hesitated only a moment, then seemed to swell as he drew himself up. “I am sworn to your need, Lord Bain. Command me.”

  Bain almost smiled at the gesture. He is so unprepared. Yet he is willing. I must use him. Aloud he said, “I am in your debt, Ferrin. Go to the castle and inform Captain Raskir, the commander of the guard. He knows that Kort is in our service and will admit you and hear you. Or Lady Flor or Lady Phaera, whomever you see first.” He thought a moment. “I have another idea. Nurias is a healer in the village south of the castle. Go by that route. If you find Nurias first you must tell her also. Your presence will be less suspect speaking to her than trying to approach the castle. Nurias knows about Kort and your band as well. If you see her first she will know the best strategy for informing the castle.”

  “Your mother, Lord Bain?”

  “Yes, and fearless. But do not forsake your own safety for speed. It is imperative that you deliver the message. Do not be found out.”

  Bain stood and Reynce and Ferrin followed him out of the tent. “Come. I will have food sent with you.”

  “Thank you, Lord Bain. I will not rest until I have informed them.”

  “Good man.” Bain shook Ferrin’s hand. “Most important – do not get caught. Capture will render you worse than useless.”

  Ferrin slung his pack, now bulging with food, over his shoulder and slipped between the trees into the darkness.

  Bain watched him disappear. Good luck. May fate be with you – and all of us. The knot in his gut tightened. I promised to keep you safe, my love. But here I am, helpless.

  Chapter Twenty

  IN MARSTON

  No one spoke on the way back to the castle. Phaera was left alone with her thoughts. A look at Lady Flor’s sombre expression told her that lady’s thoughts mirrored her own - worry about the safety of their peoples, their husbands, their futures.

  Phaera had lived in peace all of her short life, a peace that had enabled her unprecedented freedom. Now, it seemed, she would be stuck in the castle with little to do. Lady Flor would still manage the household, leaving Phaera at loose ends. Must I go mad? I need my work. A sideways glance at Lady Flor, withdrawn and pale, warned her that this would not be a good time to bring the issue up.

  Though she could see everyone going about their usual business, clearing tables, carrying clean linens into bedchambers, and getting directions from their betters, a pall hung over the castle. The usual cheerful chatter was missing, as were the smiles and shouted orders in the halls. I need to find something useful to do - now. The aromas coming up from the kitchens drew her in that direction. Memories of finding friendly companionship in the kitchens of Kinterron as a child, where Cook had shown her how to bake bread, among other skills, lured her in the direction of those comforting pastimes. Lady Flor may not approve. Noticing that Lady Flor seemed unaware of her presence Phaera hung back until she could slip down to the kitchens unseen. The mood in the kitchens was not much better but the preparation of food had a soothing element. Phaera felt it as soon as she entered.

  “Milady?”

  The head cook’s look of surprise brought the tiniest bit of amusement to Phaera. She held her hands out, palms up. “Velna, these hands need work. Tell me what I can do.”

  Velna shook her head as she began a stammered protest, but Phaera cut her off.

  “Velna, you know I am a healer. I am accustomed to work. I know how to use my hands. Please, there must be something I can do that will help.” To her left, on one of the long trestle tables, she spotted a bowl of bread dough ready to be kneaded. She walked decisively over, gesturing toward it as she did so. “This looks like it needs some attention.”

  “I..I was about to send Myra to knead it, Milady.”

  “Then send Myra to some other necessary task.” Phaera had reached the table and, without looking for approval, gave the dough a few satisfying punches, where it deflated with a few high-pitched squeaks. She looked over to smile at Velna, “I am not new to this.” She turned her attention back to the yeasty dough, grabbed a handful of flour to dust the table, dumped the dough out onto the surface, and began the rhythmic punching, pushing and turning that would bring a smooth spring to it. A sideways glance at Velna revealed that woman gaping in surprise. Phaera ignored her and kept on with her kneading. Velna left.

  About ten minutes later Phaera rolled her dough into a smooth springy ball and placed it back in the waiting wooden bowl, spread a damp linen cover over it and set it aside to rise again. She spotted Velna at the other end of the kitchen, her back to Phaera, directing some scullery maids.

  A survey of the table Phaera had worked on brought a mortar and pestle into view, surrounded by fresh herbs at the far end. Mmmmm, these will be for the mutton stew. With deft hands, she soon had the herbs ground into an aromatic paste. A sense of someone coming to stand behind her shoulder made Phaera turn to see Velna, wearing a look of both surprise and approval.

  “Well, Milady, it seems you do know your way around a kitchen. Thank you for your assistance.” She lifted the linen off the bowl and peeked at the dough. “And I see you have done this before.” She poked a finger into the dough where it left a springy dimple and turned to smile at Phaera, though with a lingering uncertainty.

  Phaera’s answering grin seemed to remove the last hesitation from Velna’s face. Phaera knew she had won a friend.

  “Yes, I feel much more at home in a kitchen or an apothecary than dancing in a fine gown at court. You will see more of me here.”

  “If it pleases you, Milady, you are welcome at any time.”

  “Good. Now put me to work. What do you need?” Phaera gestured to another group cutting meats and loading platters. “I can wield a knife, too.”

  By morning’s end Phaera’s spirits had lifted enough to join Lady Flor and their ladies for a simple meal of greens and herbs from the gardens, wild mushrooms cooked in lard, sliced roast venison, cheese, bread, and butter, all helped down with either sage tea or ale.

  Lady Flor eyed her. “I missed you this morning. Where have you been? Surely you did not leave the castle?”

  Phaera laughed at the veiled admonishment. “No, Milady. I needed to be busy and useful, so I worked in the kitchen. That platter o
f meat was cut with these very hands.” Lady Flor’s relieved smile amused her. “However, kitchen work will not satisfy me for long. We must discuss how I may begin setting up my apothecary. While I hope it does not happen, I want to be prepared for any injured men returning from the field. They will deserve the best care we can give. Nurias already has her hands full.”

  Lady Flor studied her hands before finally raising her head to face Phaera. “Yes, I understand your need and your desire to help. I have no wish to thwart you, Phaera, but we must proceed with the greatest caution. Let me make some inquiries as to how you may be protected. It may take a little time. Can you promise you will bide with me until this can be sorted?”

  “How little time, Milady? I will wait, to be sure, but I need to begin as soon as possible.”

  “Give me two days and we will speak again.”

  “Thank you. I will satisfy myself with kitchen work until then.” Phaera paused, thinking. “Or, in the meantime, perhaps I can gather some supplies from within the castle, such as herbs from the kitchen gardens, and begin to prepare them there, as well as bandages and other remedies. That is if Velna can spare me a closet or corner.”

  Lady Flor brightened. “An excellent idea.”

  Phaera had no idea what preparations Lady Flor had in mind but knew enough to let her have the two days. She worked in the kitchen again next morning before approaching Velma. “Do you think you can find me a small space where I can gather supplies and create some remedies and potions?”

  Velma thought for a moment then led Phaera behind a wall at the far end of the kitchen where a narrow stair led up to the gardens. Under the stair was a small closet with a door that could be locked. When Phaera entered it her nose told her it had once held herbs and spices, though those now graced shelves on the walls of the kitchen itself. On one wall, and under each step, narrow shelves had been built, now covered with a thick layer of dust.

  “If this will suit, Milady, I will have it cleaned for you.”