“And your horse? Such a mount would not be noticed? Are you willing to leave your horse? Sell him perhaps? And then there is your family. Lord Roger is cruel beyond imagining. What do you think will happen to them?”
Anna shook her head and placed her hands over her face. “Why are you telling me this? I don’t want to hear it. There has to be a way, for I cannot endure another night with him.” Tears streaked down her face. Grainne sat down next to her and pulled her hands away.
“There is something you should know, m’lady,” Grainne told her. “It will help you to understand why you must not flee.”
Anna listened as her maid told her the story of Lady Isabel, the daughter of the former Lord of Stolweg. About how she resided in the castle with her father. But her father was old and ailing; he wanted his daughter safely wed, and to a man he could count on to take care of Isabel and Stolweg Keep.
Lord Roger’s arrival was the answer to his prayers. Isabel was wooed and courted. They fell deeply in love, and a short betrothal followed. Their marriage was an idyllic one. Content, Isabel’s father died peacefully in his sleep.
“Lord Roger had long been handling the daily management needed to keep Stolweg profitable, m’lady,” Grainne explained. “We embraced him as one of our own. He had toiled side by side with us. So when the liberties we’d enjoyed for so many years slipped through our fingers, we never even noticed the leak. He put a stop to the celebrations and made it difficult for us to worship. But the change was so gradual that no one thought to speak out. We were well fed, well housed, and well clothed. An occasional lashing could be endured.
“And Lady Isabel, so in love with Lord Roger, refused at first to see what he was becoming. When summoned to his chamber, she went willingly. She never told me what was done to her, but I could see that she was hurting. She stopped leaving the keep, afraid to go outside. Later, she never left her chamber, except when ordered to Lord Roger’s room. I waited for her on those horrible nights. I gave her tea to help her forget.
“Then one night, I helped her to retire,” Grainne continued. “She was so calm that evening. She dismissed me before I could give her the tea. Perhaps if I had stayed…”
“What happened, Grainne?” Anna asked.
Grainne sighed. “She was found the next day on the ground below this chamber.” Anna stared at the window while Grainne relived the morning. “I was here, delivering her breakfast, and thought it odd that she’d already arisen. Even more so that she was gone from her chamber.”
Grainne grabbed Anna’s hands and cried, “Lord Roger burst into the room. He was so angry, yelling at me for my negligence. He grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me to the window. He unlatched the shutters and forced me to look down.
“Lady Isabel was crumpled on the ground below.” She swallowed hard before continuing, “Oh, dear God, I didn’t know what I was seeing. After I realized, Lord Roger lost all control. He almost pushed me out the window after her. If he had not been interrupted…”
“Grainne, what am I supposed to do?” Anna pleaded. “I cannot stay. I cannot leave.”
“You must grow stronger, m’lady. You must find a way to live with what has happened. With what will happen.”
“I can’t, Grainne,” Anna cried.
“No, m’lady, you can,” she insisted. “You are here for a reason. And I will help you any way I can.”
Something shifted deep inside Anna’s heart, and she worried about its portent. “Do not count on me overmuch, Grainne. I do not think that I am the savior for whom you are questing.” A sudden resolve came over her, and she moved with care to the edge of her bed. Grainne protested, saying that she should rest, it was too soon. She should drink more tea.
“No more, Grainne,” Anna ordered. “Your tea dulls my senses. If I am to survive, I need to feel alive. Please help me to dress. I want to check my horses before the sun sets.” Her horses would keep her strong, Anna vowed to herself.
After dressing, Anna walked unaided to the door. She studied its smooth hinges. “Hand me the stoking iron from the hearth, Grainne.”
Her maid did as bidden, and Anna grasped the cold iron in her hands. She raised it and swung down at the middle hinge with all her strength. The metals sparked against each other, and Anna swung at the hinge a second time. Not satisfied with her work, she struck once more. With a satisfied smirk, she gave the dented poker back to Grainne.
They looked at the hinge and saw three identical marks, each perfectly scored into the joints where the hardware was married. When Anna pulled the door open, it still moved effortlessly, but the sound of metal grinding against metal screeched in protest. Never again would another enter her chamber unremarked. Anna ignored Grainne’s astonished face until she realized that, finally, someone at Stolweg was smiling at her.
Chapter Eleven—Pasties
With Grainne at her side, Anna made her way to the courtyard. “Are you sure you’re up to this, my lady? No one would think poorly of you if you kept to your quarters a few more days.”
“They know?” Anna exclaimed. Her maid lowered her eyes. Anna realized why everyone had avoided making eye contact with her. She had mistakenly thought their behavior was due to their loyalty to Lady Isabel. But no, the people knew firsthand of her husband’s cruelty. Their fear had kept them silent. Anna wondered how much abuse they’d already borne.
She held her head high. “Don’t answer, Grainne. Of course they know. And it is for that very reason that I must continue on my way.”
Anna released Grainne’s arm, stood taller, and left the cool comfort of the stone fortress. Each step left her aching, but she refused to be slowed. She entered the stable, and Tullian let out a pleased whinny. Anna scratched him just below his forelock, his favorite spot. “You look much like the king rooster of the coop here, Tully-boy. Enjoying yourself?” Tullian rested his massive head on Anna’s shoulder as she patted his neck. “What do you say we go for a nice ride tomorrow? Get a feel for our new home.” Her horse nickered companionably.
Anna stepped down the line of stalls to check the mares. At least two would be in season within the week. Tullian would have a busy schedule. She turned and was greeted by Will.
“Good morning, m’lady. Can I get you anything?” he offered with a tentative smile.
“Not today, Will. I’m just stopping by to say hello to my friends,” she answered. “But I’ll need Tullian saddled for a ride tomorrow.”
Will was saved from having to reply when his father arrived. “We would be pleased to escort you,” Gilles said. “There are some excellent grazing areas nearby that I’d like you to see.”
Anna considered his offer. Until now, Gilles’s only words to her had been a warning. His tone was conciliatory, at least. Could she trust him? “All right, Gilles,” she replied, deciding to give him a chance to prove himself.
She walked with the stable master and his son and introduced them properly to the Chevring mares, noting their specific traits and personalities. “Great care must be taken when choosing mares to breed with our stallions,” she explained to Will. “The Chevring chargers have distinct characteristics that set them apart from other horses, the dappled coat of silver and gray being the most prominent.”
Anna looked outside. The sun had dipped below the curtain wall. All of a sudden, she felt exhausted, so she gave Tullian one last scratch. To father and son, she offered her goodbyes. “I’ll see you both on the morrow.”
It had been foolish to spend so much time on her feet, she thought. But she would not let those at Stolweg see her weaken. The dull ache inside her grew worse with each step. When Grainne arrived and took her arm as if directing her to the castle, Anna sighed with relief.
They reached the foot of the stairs, and Anna groaned in dismay. “Never you mind these stairs, my lady,” Grainne ordered. “We’ll go slowly, and I’ll support you.”
Her maid’s arm encircled her waist and pulled her forward and up. Anna would lay wager that Grainne could carry
her all the way, slung over her shoulder if necessary. It was funny how her first impression of Grainne had been that the maid was a small, slightly plump woman in her forties. But Grainne was all strength underneath her clothes—her arms were like iron bands. And her age was younger than Anna had first deduced, perhaps on the cusp of thirty. Grainne’s skin was clear, her face heart-shaped, and her nose as pert as her new demeanor. Anna realized that it was her maid’s eyes that aged her. Grainne’s eyes had seen a lifetime.
They reached the door to her chamber. The metal squealed, making them both jump, then titter nervously. Anna swept her eyes across her room and marveled at its transformation. Grainne had been busy. Her belongings had been unpacked, bringing some cheer and a small amount of homesickness to her heart. A second table had been procured and placed in one corner of the room. Anna discovered that her small chest, wherein lay the ingredients for her special balm, had been placed on top. A wooden dowel, strung with the many herbs and flowers that she had collected during her journey, hung above. The largest bunch, lavender, hung on a separate rod nearby.
Grainne gave her a cup of warm tea. And although Anna took the drink willingly enough, her maid read the question in her eyes just the same.
“Simple herbal tea, m’lady. Chamomile, mint, and only a tiny hint of fairy cup,” Grainne disclosed. “Not enough to make you sleep.”
“I’m curious about the tea yesterday, Grainne. It was extremely sweet. Honey?” At her maid’s nod, Anna queried further. “You used it to cover another taste, did you not? There was a hint of something bitter.”
“Wormwood, m’lady, and a goodly amount at that.”
“Ah, that explains the deep sleep.”
“Are you learned in the healing arts, m’lady?” Grainne asked, examining the dowel with the drying plants. “You’ve collected some herbs whose properties are not commonly known: king’s clover and horsetail are oft overlooked. Is that what you used for Gilles’s cheek? He has nary a mark.”
“Horsetail, yes. And calendula. My grandmother was responsible for that part of my education,” Anna replied. “She instructed me on where to find the rarer herbs and wildflowers.” Anna directed Grainne to her pot of salve.
“It smells lovely,” Grainne said. “That’ll be the lavender, of course.”
Anna sat near the fire where Grainne had set out her evening tea. On her bed, she noticed a small sachet containing her favorite purple bloom. It was a thoughtful touch, and she regarded Grainne with fresh eyes. “You seem to have noticed my penchant for this delicate flower.”
“Well, yes, m’lady, from your handkerchiefs,” Grainne noted, picking up a folded kerchief to study the fine embroidery: a tiny, pale green stem with a purple bud. “Why did you pick lavender?”
“I didn’t, really; it chose me,” Anna explained between sips of tea. “My mother said that I was an active babe, hated sleeping because I wanted to see what everyone else was doing. She and my grandmother hung bouquets of the stuff around my cradle to soothe me. Since then, I have always loved the smell.”
Anna finished her tea and ate a little off the plate that Grainne had provided. She was bone-weary and had much to accomplish in the next few days. It was time for rest. When Grainne asked if she felt fit enough to ride the next day, Anna was ready with an answer.
“Riding tomorrow and being with the horses—that is where I will find my strength. I promise,” she added, “no galloping. Just smooth, easy gaits.”
Grainne had turned as white as the linen she was holding. “You needn’t worry about me, Grainne. If you would be more at ease, you could ride with us.”
“Ride? With you? Oh dear me, no! I could never. Please, no, m’lady. I could never get on one of those monsters.”
“You don’t mean to tell me you don’t like horses!” Anna exclaimed, astounded by the idea.
“I think more that they do not like me, m’lady. The beasts can sense my fear.”
“We’ll see, Grainne,” Anna encouraged her. “I can help you to come to terms with the monsters. I’ll not make you ride them,” Anna amended when she saw her maid’s frightened face. “Only touch them. For a start.”
“Perhaps, m’lady, perhaps,” Grainne conceded, pulling a sleeping gown from one of Anna’s trunks. “But for now, you need to sleep.”
• • •
The next morning, Anna woke feeling stronger. The pain was present but manageable. There was a soft rap on her door, and then it screamed as Grainne entered. She carried a breakfast tray with tea, cheese, a hefty chunk of bread, and tender spring carrots. Anna munched happily on the carrots to freshen her breath, then pocketed a couple for Tullian.
She asked Grainne to inform Gilles that she would meet him at the stable in an hour. First, she wanted to explore. Reluctantly, her maid left her on her own. Anna climbed the stairs leading to the parapets at the top of the castle.
After the dimness of the narrow steps, the bright daylight dazzled her eyes. She stepped out into the sunshine and breathed in the fresh air that swept across the top of the west tower. The wild woods below continued as far as she could see.
She turned to survey the lands around the keep. Moving northward, she spared only a moment for the distant and foreboding mountains. She had once thought them beautiful in their harshness. Now, they only reminded her of Roger.
Anna walked along the wide parapet to the eastern tower. Turning toward the wooded hills below, she had to shield her eyes against the sun glaring off the lake.
Finally, she made her way to her own tower, south. Below her, the land cascaded in terraces to the southeast before gently climbing again. The hills rising beyond the lake were soft and rolling and forested in trees whose spring leaves were so light they glowed in the morning sun. To the distant south, Anna saw the rise whence her first view of Stolweg was beheld. The fields below were perfect. But she could no longer gaze upon them and think of a comforting quilt. Now they were too orderly.
Anna would have stayed atop the tower all day, but she didn’t want to be late for her ride with Gilles and Will. On her way past the east tower’s corner chamber, she noticed that the door was ajar. If she hurried, she had just enough time to take a quick peek. She pushed the door open and gasped. The armory lay before her. Every type of weapon, from sword and staff to crossbow and quarrel to longbow and hammer, was neatly arranged on supports throughout the room. Shields bearing the standard of Stolweg, a four-petaled rose encircled by a thorny vine, were hung with precision along one wall. And some of the most beautiful armor Anna had ever beheld sparkled as if polished daily. Everything gleamed in the sunlight that flooded the chamber.
“Ahem!”
Anna whirled around at the sound and instinctively lifted her hands, both to protect herself and to strike out if necessary. A barrel-chested man whose height measured no more than her own stood in front of her, hands on hips. He had startling blue eyes, made more so by the reddest hair she’d ever beheld. But his skin was smooth and tan, not ruddy like one would expect. It was an exotic combination.
“You shouldn’t be in this room,” he stated. “These weapons are dangerous. If mishandled, they could injure you.”
Anna was fully aware of the picture she presented. After all, few women in her position felt comfortable enough to walk around in riding breeches, even if the long panels of her overtunic looked more like a skirt than a coat. She steeled herself, bringing her eyes level with his. “I am well acquainted with the proper use of the tools here.”
At his raised eyebrow, she added, “I don’t think we have been introduced. I am Lady Aubrianne. And you are?” Good, she thought, that captured his attention. By his dress, he was clearly a soldier. “I have met several of Roger’s men, but I have not had the”—she paused; the word pleasure was unacceptable—“occasion of meeting you before.” She didn’t miss the dark flash that passed over his eyes at the mention of Roger’s soldiers.
“Please excuse my brusqueness, Lady Aubrianne. I am Cellach, Stolweg’s master-
at-arms.”
“I see,” she replied, noting that he allied himself with the keep and not the master. “Then this room is your doing.” Seeing his puzzled face, Anna added, “You take great pride in your duties; I have never seen an armory so well kept. There is a great deal of artistry in the placement of each item, and I would not dream of disturbing a single thing. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” His scrutiny of her was making her uncomfortable.
“Lady Aubrianne, I meant no offense,” he said. “These weapons are my responsibility, yes. But when Lord Roger is away, my responsibility grows to encompass the people of Stolweg. To have someone injured on my watch, especially his lordship’s new bride…”
Anna turned and regarded him. She had been ready to think the worst of him, but his graciousness halted that decision. “No harm done to either party, Cellach. Let us forget this small misunderstanding.” She departed then, leaving him to his own thoughts.
• • •
Her escorts and horses were ready and waiting at the stable when she arrived. Once mounted, Gilles took the lead, Anna followed, and Will brought up the rear. They rode through the courtyard, out the main gate, and then turned southeast. Their pace was too slow.
“A nice canter would be faster, don’t you think?” she suggested to Gilles. Reacting to some imperceptible movement from her, Tullian leapt forward, and before they knew it, they had reached the mill. The crossing was made of sturdy wooden planks, its span wide enough that a pair of oxen yoked together could pass over. When a man stepped out of the building, Gilles lifted his hand in salute. “Hail to you, Carrick.”
“A good day for a ride, friends,” the miller answered, nodding in deference to Anna. “Maggie,” he called out to a young woman standing in the doorway, “come meet the new Lady of Stolweg. M’lady, this is my daughter, Maggie.”
She was a pretty girl, Anna thought, perhaps the same age as she. But there was an odd gleam in her eye, as if she were assessing her new mistress. After the girl curtsied, Anna tilted her head slightly and smiled, then nudged Tullian forward.
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