The Secret Slipper

by Amanda Tero

  Lia grasped the basket tighter, if possible.

  “You cannot just leave like that.”

  “Dumphey…” Lia turned and looked up at the older lad. His patience must be wearing thin, even though he wore a grin. “I promise, ‘twasn’t me. I would have told you had I the chance.”

  “Will you be back or do Noel and I need to take up for you now?” Dumphey didn’t sound accusing, but Lia stiffened as he pried the basket from her hands.

  Lia kept her fingertips on the rim of the basket. “You needn’t do this.” She knew he wouldn’t heed her words, but she felt the need to say them anyway.

  Dumphey shrugged. “I’m empty-handed walking back to the village. What has Bioti done with you this time?” His earnest eyes met her gaze.

  Lia looked away and focused on walking smoothly while keeping up with Dumphey’s stride, though he had slowed down for her. “I shall return this evening. Leave chores for me. You have my word, I shall do it.” She glanced at Dumphey, long enough to see his mouth turn down in a frown.

  “‘Tis too much work for a lass your age.”

  “I shall have to make do.” Or do without dinner, which might be the situation anyway if she didn’t hurry.

  “Hasn’t Bioti any goodness in her heart for one of your condition?”

  Lia stopped and grabbed Dumphey’s arm, turning him to face her as the hateful blush heated her cheeks. “What of my condition? I make well enough most of the time.” Her voice turned hard. “You needn’t feel sorry for me, Dumphey.” She snatched the basket from his hands, sending the cloth flying to the ground. She would run away from him if she could. Instead, she limped as quickly as her feet would let her, keeping herself from crying out in the pain.

  “I shall leave the lights for you to polish.” Dumphey’s voice was well behind her. Good. He wasn’t chasing her.

  “I shall do it,” Lia called, not bothering to turn back and make sure Dumphey got her message.

  Her dark blonde hair was plastered to her forehead by the time she returned to the kitchen, and she panted for breath.

  “Be the highwayman after you?” The cook took the basket from Lia and looked inside. “You are almost too late. There are potatoes waiting to be scrubbed and diced. Quickly.”

  Lia took the hint and hobbled to the table, where she grabbed a potato and began washing. Her fingers flew over the skins, making up for lost time. She would show Dumphey. She wasn’t a worthless lass. She could do the tasks given her, regardless of what he thought.

  Matheny

  I feel as if we have been led astray.” Raoul heaved a sigh as he said the words. He had lost count of how many cottages he had been to in Matheny, which didn’t include the ones that Jolin and Galien had visited.

  “We haven’t traversed the entire city yet,” Jolin said, his tones light and cheerful. He led the way to the next row of cottages.

  Raoul scowled at him. “Don’t tell me what I haven’t done. You said yourself that the way to glean information was to start with the servants and peasants. And have any of them heard of Bioti? Nay!”

  “M’lord, ‘tis a big city,” Galien reasoned. “Surely not everyone knows of her.”

  Raoul stopped walking and held up his hands. “Nay, but ‘tisn’t likely that half of Matheny is ignorant of her!”

  Galien shrugged. “What else do you propose to do?”

  “I don’t trust Nes. I am going to speak with him.” It was what he should have done in the first place.

  Galien’s eyebrows shot up. “He won’t speak without more coins.”

  “I don’t care about the coins. Ellia is my daughter. I will do whatever it takes to find her.”

  “Are you not being rash?” Jolin asked. “What if one more day would find Bioti here?”

  Bury the man. Raoul could count on him for his steady faithfulness, but that same steadiness would be his undoing one day. Jolin would not understand. He had never even had a wife to care for.

  “What if one of us stayed behind?” Galien asked.

  “Aye,” Jolin agreed. “If you are willing to pay Nes for more information, hiring an extra horse for someone to stay here will be of no consequence. I can stay, m’lord.”

  “Nay, I’ll stay.”

  Raoul and Jolin turned to look at Galien.

  “But you were the one who spoke with Nes the other morn,” Jolin said.

  Galien gave a half-shrug. “Aye, and you see where that led us.”

  “Scared of him?” Jolin asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

  “We haven’t time to bicker.” Raoul’s tones were harsher than he intended, but it stopped the men. He started back toward the inn, taking longer strides than were proper. Each footstep jarred his throbbing head. He would have to try to rest on the few hours’ ride to Fordyce.

  “I’ll call for the carriage,” Galien said as they reached the inn.

  “Very well.” Raoul grimaced. Next time, he would bring Malkyn so he could come and go as he pleased instead of waiting a half hour.

  They passed through the noisy dining hall and entered their dim room.

  Jolin sighed. “M’lord, I fear you are annoyed.”

  “Annoyed?” Raoul choked on the word as he sank into a chair.

  Jolin shrugged. At least, that is what it looked like from the slight illumination as Jolin lit the candles. The tallow tapers gave more smoke than they did light. “Infuriated, more like it?”

  Raoul propped his feet on the straw mattress that rested on a wooden frame. It sagged as if giving a pathetic apology for keeping him awake the past two nights.

  Jolin turned from the candles. “M’lord…” He walked to the small window and looked out. There wasn’t much to see from that angle—mayhap a few cottage thatches—but he stared as if something caught his interest. Or because he didn’t want to look Raoul in the eye.

  “Say it.” Raoul didn’t have the patience to wait for Jolin to get to his point.

  “I understand that I’m not a father, nor can I understand what you must be feeling; however…” Jolin massaged his chin, which had become scruffy in the past few days.

  Raoul held his breath, bracing himself for words he knew he didn’t want to hear, whatever they were.

  Jolin looked squarely at Raoul. “Have you sought God in all of this?”

  His breath released in a huff. If Jolin hadn’t prefaced his speech so smoothly, Raoul would argue Jolin’s inadequacy to make any comment. The man was too thorough. Raoul shut his eyes and leaned back, swallowing the dozens of hateful words with which he wanted to pound Jolin.

  It wasn’t Jolin he was angry with. Raoul rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t make sense of anything right now, the way it was throbbing. He knew without opening his eyes that Jolin was patiently awaiting an answer. “I am seeking God,” he said.

  Jolin made no comment, but Raoul could feel him eyeing him with doubt. Let the man doubt, he would seek God on the way to Fordyce.

  Abtshire

  Lia took off her kitchen apron. She didn’t want to soil it in the stables, even if all she had to do was polish lights. Dumphey had left her the same, simple task the past three days. She swallowed her annoyance and paused for a moment to look at the sunset. Last night, dark reds had entwined with orange, mellowing into the blue of the night sky. Tonight, it was a blank sheet of gray. With a sigh, she continued toward the stables. She didn’t have time to waste looking at the paintings of nature

  around her.

  A lone figure stood in front of the stable doors. Lia groaned. She had managed to talk civilly with Dumphey since his help with the mushrooms, but today she didn’t want to converse with anyone.

  “Lia!” The shrill whisper made Lia groan. Having Helga waiting for her was even worse than talking with Dumphey or Noel. “Mother insists on seeing you this instant.”

  “Helga, I have stable duties to fulfill.” Lia tried to push past her.

  “Aye, she knows that.” Helga held out her arm and reached for Lia’s hand. L
ia pulled it away.

  “Can it not wait until after my tasks are done?”

  “Nay. She is in terrible straits this eve.” She lowered her voice. “Or has been…ever since she had that visitor.”

  “Visitor?”

  Helga shook her head and stood tall. “Never you mind. She is not apt for patience.”

  “Is she ever?” Lia muttered the words, but they were loud enough for Helga to hear.

  “You could lose dinner for that.”

  “Only if she hears of it.” Lia tried to glare at her step-sister, but the lass was taller than Lia, though she was four years younger.

  “I’m not afraid of you. Catch me if you can!” With that, Helga spun around and dashed into the night.

  Lia clenched her jaw until her teeth hurt. Heat pounded in her cheeks, and she reached up to rub them, even though there were no passersby to see. She refused to let others notice her discomfort. She hurried her walk and entered the cottage well after Helga had gone in and repeated the words that had passed between them.

  “Child, one day you will learn respect.” Bioti glared at Lia dangerously. “I don’t have time for you tonight. I want you to return to the stables and harness a horse to

  a cart.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it!”

  Lia crossed her arms and stood in front of Bioti. “I am not allowed to harness the horse.” She watched as Bioti balled up some linens. “Is Sheriff Feroci casting us out?”

  “No—yes!” Bioti stood, huffing from her efforts. “He said for us to use his horse and leave. Immediately.”

  Doubt crept through Lia. “Sheriff Feroci wouldn’t let any commoner use his—”

  “There is no need for me to answer your questions. Just do as I say. We have to be gone by tonight, and we could never make good time on foot. Especially with you.” Lia bit back her response as Bioti continued, “You know the stables. Move…quickly.” Bioti’s gaze shot down to where Lia’s skirts hid her foot.

  Lia spun and darted out the door. She would show Bioti. She slammed the door on Bioti’s harsh voice demanding her daughters to help. She retraced her steps to the stables, her heart pounding. She would be there tonight, as expected. But to steal? Her heart skipped a beat. As if Sheriff Feroci gave permission. That would never happen. If the sheriff caught her, or if Dumphey heard of it…

  Just don′t get caught. She eased the stable door open and looked behind her. Run. She could take a horse and flee the opposite direction of Bioti. It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed her mind. She had foolishly tried to run away as a younger child. She should have known better. The lesson Bioti gave her then sealed her fate: she would always be under Bioti’s rule. She had no choice unless a man took pity on her and married her.

  Lia ground her teeth. She wouldn’t subject any man to that. She slipped inside the stable and let the door close behind her. What would happen when Bioti realized she wasn’t returning with a cart? She would report me as having stolen the horse for sure, and send the sheriff’s men after me. A shiver slipped up Lia’s spine. She knew the penalty for horse thieving. I could never run away.

  Everything was quiet except for the horses’ greetings. Lia held her breath as she neared the stalls. Hauch wasn’t her favorite, but he was fast and groomed for the cart.

  “Come, Hauch.” Lia led him from the stall, looking around as she did so. The cart was outside, used for common things. Lia could only hope the trappings were as easy to find. Her eyes flitted around the wall where the tack hung. She reached up and examined a few pieces before finding the harnesses. She removed them from their peg and draped them over her shoulder, wincing at the extra weight.

  She placed a hand on Hauch’s muzzle as she led him out of the stable. Walk confidently, as if this is your task. The townspeople were used to her working at the stables by now. But still, her throat dried and her lungs refused to take in air. She backed Hauch next to the cart and lifted the harness from her shoulder. She placed it over Hauch’s broad back and moved without a sound, hooking up the straps. Someone was likely to be disappointed to find their cart missing, but Lia couldn’t answer to them.

  She moved faster and the harness clanged against itself. She froze. The night around her was still silent. No one raised an alarm.

  Before leading Hauch into the open, she stepped onto the street. She didn’t recognize the few passersby. She could only hope that Dumphey or Noel wouldn’t think to check in on her. She placed a shaking hand on the seat and pulled herself up. Her good foot slipped and she clamped her teeth to stop her cry. She tried again, this time making it up. She took the reins in her trembling hands. She couldn’t make herself speak an encouragement to the horse. A simple slap would have to do.

  Hauch stepped forward and the cart creaked. It was loaded, probably for the next day’s market. Bioti would have to figure out what to do with that. Lia only had to get Hauch into Bioti’s hands.

  Once on the street, she lowered her head and let her hair fall over her face. There wasn’t much light here, but she wasn’t going to take chances.

  “You’re out late tonight.”

  The husky voice made Lia jump and tighten her hold on the reins. Without looking at the man, she kept her voice low and replied, “A task for the sheriff.” It was just the town watch. He had seen her at the stables before.

  “Couldn’t wait ‘til the morrow?”

  Lia dared to look at him, feigning boldness she didn′t feel. “Nay. You know the sheriff.”

  Hauch stepped into a light-footed trot, putting distance between them and the stables. In less than five minutes, Lia stopped at Bioti’s cottage and looked over her shoulder. No one was watching her. She released the reins and stepped from the cart. Her foot caught and she fell to the ground. This time, her cry escaped.

  The door flung open.

  “Hush!” Helga’s warning wasn′t quiet itself. “Mother, she’s back.”

  Bioti and Geva were out before the words left Helga’s mouth.

  “Get back up there.” Bioti pulled Lia to her feet. “You’re driving.”

  Fordyce

  Night was deepening when they neared Fordyce. The carriage slowed and Raoul sat up. “Finally!” He winced as pain sliced through his temples. The hours of jolting across the roads had done nothing to ease the tension.

  “Where are we going now?” he asked.

  Jolin straightened. “I gave the driver instructions to find Glenn Hollow. I figured the walk from there would do us both well.”

  “And how deep into Fordyce is this place?”

  Jolin glanced out the window. “It should not be long.”

  Raoul followed Jolin’s glance. The townspeople were hurrying around, as if trying to race against the fading daylight. The carriage passed by a group of children, racing to greet their father, who must have returned from a journey. Raoul swallowed and looked away, keeping himself from reaching into his pocket where his daughter’s slipper lay. If he did indeed find Ellia, how would she greet him? How would he greet her? Every part of his body seemed to ache to hold his little lass…yet she wasn’t little anymore. She would be almost a woman.

  The carriage stopped. Raoul’s heartbeat quickened as Jolin opened the door. They walked past a dozen cottages before Raoul broke the silence. “You know you can find Nes’s abode without asking?”

  “Aye. Galien gave clear instructions. Are you certain you are calm enough to face Nes?”

  Raoul nodded, though the very mention of the man’s name made his blood boil. He took a deep breath and nodded again.

  “Mayhap I should go first.”

  Raoul frowned at Jolin. “I am capable of controlling myself.”

  Jolin looked doubtful as he strode up the lane.

  Intolerable man. Raoul jogged a few steps to catch up with him as Jolin crossed into another lane.

  At the third cottage, Jolin stopped. His powerful fist thundered on the door. No answer. Raoul’s throat went dry. Even if he wanted t
o shout a threat toward Nes, he couldn’t have. Again, Jolin knocked.

  “If ye’re lookin’ fer the man, he died.”

  Jolin and Raoul spun around. A wee lad about seven years old stared at them, his eyes wide and face solemn.

  “He has feigned death before,” Raoul muttered.

  Jolin shook his head at Raoul and turned to the lad. “Died? When was this?”

  The lad shrugged. “I know not exactly. It was after he had a visitor.”

  “A visitor?”

  “Aye. My father found him kilt.” The lad shuddered. “Does a man have to be cruel to have enemies?”

  Raoul’s heart went out to him as Jolin’s voice lowered with compassion. “You needn’t worry of acquiring enemies.”

  The frown on the lad’s face lifted. “I don’t want enemies like he had.” He bowed slightly and turned.

  “You’re not going to press further?” Raoul asked Jolin.

  Jolin shook his head. “Can you not see the lad is disturbed? We may ask others to verify the statement.”

  Raoul looked back at the cottage. “It had to have been Bioti.” He had to find her before she laid hands on his daughter. He raised his voice. “Lad, may we speak with your father?”

  “Aye, he is at home.” The lad continued his walk.

  Raoul rubbed his hands together as he followed the lad. If the lad’s father had found Nes, mayhap he knew him and his acquaintances. One could hope, at the least.

  Jolin didn’t speak as they followed the lad into his cottage.

  “Men to speak with you, Father.”

  A man around Raoul’s age stood and bowed. “To whom do I owe this honor?”

  “Lord Kiralyn,” Jolin introduced.

  The man bowed again. “Reynold, at your service.”

  “I came seeking Nes,” Raoul said.

  Reynold frowned. “I hope your need of him was not of importance.”

  “Aye, of great importance.”

  “I am sorry, then. He died yestermorn.”

  “I thought your lad said he was kilt.”

  Reynold nodded as he crossed his arms. “ʻTwas the cause of his death. His attacker must have thought him dead when he left.”