Thornbear (Book 1)

by Michael G. Manning

  Gram released her hand quickly, realizing that she had merely been studying her handiwork. He turned away to hide the flush in his cheeks. “Thank you,” he said, and then he walked farther away. “You should put your dress on, and then I’ll ride back with you.”

  She watched him, a faint smile on her lips. “Certainly.” Then she circled her horse, to put its bulk between them before slipping the bottom of her dress over her head. She managed to get her head almost to the neck before it caught. Her arms were straight above her head, stuck in the sleeves, while part of the dress was caught around her hips.

  She began a strange hopping dance as she wiggled and shook, trying to get the dress to slide down and into place.

  Unfortunately Gram saw none of it; he had positioned himself a goodly distance away and had put his back to her. Several minutes later she called him, “It’s safe now. Help me with the laces would you?”

  Gram grimaced and then winced when the expression pulled at the stitches in his face. It was much more sensitive since she had done her work, and it made his face feel tight. He helped her with the laces as best he could. Fortunately he had some experience, from assisting his sister, Carissa, on many occasions.

  “You have surprisingly deft hands for such a womanly task,” she observed as he worked, though her eyes were on his face rather than his hands.

  “My mother and sister,” he supplied, failing to find any more words to explain himself.

  After that they remounted and turned the horse’s heads back toward Castle Cameron. They set a moderate pace, and it took an hour to reach the gate leading into Washbrook. The guard called out to those inside when he saw them approaching. Apparently Perry had passed the word for them to be on the lookout for their return.

  Gram waved and they rode through without stopping, following the single lane road that passed through Washbrook and led to the much bigger gatehouse that guarded the entry to Cameron Castle. They were met there by Captain Draper and several guardsmen.

  “We were worried for your safety, Lady Alyssa,” he told the young woman before turning to Gram. “Lady Thornbear is waiting for you. We gave her the news that you had been injured.” Lady Thornbear referred to his grandmother, Elise Thornbear. She had retained the title after his grandfather and namesake’s death. To avoid confusion, his mother was referred to as Lady Rose, or on formal occasions, as Lady Hightower, in deference to her title.

  “Thank you, Captain,” he replied. “Please have someone tell her I will join her shortly, once I’ve cleaned up a bit.”

  “She said to tell you to come directly, rather than wait, Master Gram,” Captain Draper informed him.

  Gram sighed. “Very well… I’ll just take Pebble to the stable.”

  “I can take her for you, sir,” volunteered one of the guardsmen, “and Lady Alyssa’s mount as well.”

  “You are most kind,” she told the man, dismounting and handing him the reins. “Has Perry returned?”

  “Not yet, milady,” answered the captain. “My son returned earlier when he couldn’t find you. He left again, along with several guardsmen. They’re still out searching for you.”

  “Please give them my apologies for the inconvenience when they return,” she responded before holding her hand out to Gram. “Would you escort me in, Master Gram?”

  He had just finished dismounting himself, and her request caught him off-guard. He hastily handed his reins to one of the guards and then offered her his arm. Together they walked toward the main keep. Several thoughts passed through his mind, but he couldn’t find the words to put to them, so he remained silent.

  Once they had gone inside, he gave her an apologetic glance, “I’m afraid I must leave you here. Thank you for your kindness.” He touched his stitches as he spoke.

  “In spite of its unusual nature, I enjoyed our time,” she said demurely, averting her eyes. Now that she was within the castle she seemed to take on a different air. Gone were the bold direct stares and her daring personality. “They said that Lady Thornbear wanted you, but I was told your mother was away.”

  “My grandmother,” he explained.

  She nodded. “I have not met her yet. Would it be acceptable for me to come with you?”

  The question surprised him. He had expected she would want to retire immediately, to clean up and repair the damage their adventure had had on her appearance. Few ladies would be willing to embrace a new social encounter without preparing first. He wondered what his grandmother would think. While she was very traditional, like his mother, she also valued practicality above all else.

  “If you wish,” he replied. “It would be my pleasure to introduce you.” Something stirred within him, a warmth at the thought of her coming with him.

  Elise Thornbear had moved to Cameron Castle several years previously, after her son Dorian, and her close friend, Queen Genevieve, had died. With Genevieve’s death she had had no compelling reason to stay in the capital any longer, while her daughter-in-law and grandchildren were in Cameron. It had been a simple decision to move. She now lived quietly in a modest apartment that the Count had given her.

  Gram saw her frequently, she sat at the high table at the evening meals, but she endeavored not to bother much beyond that. She had visited his mother no more than once a week while she was in residence, but now that Rose was in the capital, she had asked Gram to visit her instead. He had done so, once and sometimes twice a week.

  Today was different, of course; she wanted to inspect his wounds, however minor they might be.

  Frances, his grandmother’s main attendant and companion, opened the door when he knocked, “Oh Gram!” she said gladly when she saw him. “Come in, Elise has been worried about you.” The older woman had served his grandmother for many years, and she and Elise were on familiar terms now, which included Gram as well.

  She paused when she saw Alyssa. “Oh, you brought Lady Alyssa with you! Forgive my poor manners, milady. Please come inside. Make yourself comfortable while I fetch Lady Thornbear.” Frances had reverted to more formal speech on seeing the visitor. She waved her hand to indicate the chairs arranged artfully around the sitting room.

  They had just sat down when Elise entered the room, looking anxious. She had appeared before Frances had even left the room. It was clear she had been worried. “Gram, let me look at you. They told me you were hurt.”

  “It’s just a scratch, grandmother,” he reassured her.

  “Let me judge that,” she said waspishly, then she glanced at his companion. “Pardon my rudeness, Lady Alyssa, I hadn’t expected company.”

  “No offense taken, Lady Thornbear. Please forgive my presumptuousness for intruding at such a time,” responded Alyssa, dropping into a respectful curtsey.

  That’ll get you points with her, thought Gram, admiring her etiquette. Even mother couldn’t fault that response.

  Elise nodded, already turning Gram’s chin in her hands. “Who did these stitches?” she asked sternly.

  “Well… uh,” Gram spluttered.

  “I did, Lady Thornbear,” answered Alyssa promptly.

  His grandmother’s eyes focused on her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Very fine work,” she complimented. “Who taught you?”

  “Nan—my grandmother,” responded Alyssa, correcting herself.

  “Give your gran my compliments. She was an excellent teacher,” noted Elise clinically. “These are probably as good as what I could have managed,” she admitted. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “Just scratches,” said Gram.

  “Let me see.”

  He looked down with obvious embarrassment.

  “Speak up!” snapped Elise.

  “My thigh, but it’s nothing to worry about,” he told her.

  His grandmother bent carefully, eyeing his ripped trousers. “Take off your pants.”

  “Grandmother,” he said emphatically, looking toward Alyssa.

  “Anyone who can do stitches like that should have no fear of seei
ng a naked man,” noted Elise. One glance at her grandson’s face changed her mind, though. “Oh. I see,” she responded neutrally. “Step into the other room then.”

  Once he had some privacy, Gram removed his trousers and Elise cleaned the scratches with something that burned. After a moment she decided that he didn’t need more stitches and she settled for applying a thin paste before dressing it with clean cloth. She let him dress himself, and then they rejoined the others.

  Elise took Alyssa’s hand. “I’m happy to meet you, Lady Alyssa,” she said. “Please excuse my brevity before.”

  “I understand completely, Lady Thornbear,” replied the younger woman. “Call me Alyssa if you would. I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

  “Certainly, call me Elise then,” replied his grandmother. “Frances, would you mind making tea for us?”

  Frances left and the two women fell to talking. Elise began by asking pointed questions, “Why didn’t you check for other wounds?”

  “It was a lapse on my part,” admitted Alyssa. “I noted the torn fabric, but he was walking without difficulty, and we had a ewe to return. I forgot to double check it afterward when I did the stitches.”

  “Hmm,” said the old woman. “Understandable, but try to do better in the future. Men will hide wounds sometimes, unless you are direct with them. What does your grandmother recommend to keep the wound from going bad?”

  “Horse reed if it’s a shallow cut, or fen lilly if you need to pack a deeper wound,” responded Alyssa immediately.

  Elise nodded, “Good. Horse reed is toxic in larger wounds. I hadn’t heard of using fen lilly, though.”

  The two women grew more involved in their conversation, leaving Gram to himself. A quarter hour had passed when Elise finally addressed him directly, “Gram, you look bored. Would you mind if I kept your friend for a while? I’m sure you aren’t interested in this conversation.”

  He nodded gratefully, “I do have something to do.” Glancing at Alyssa he added, “You will forgive me for leaving you?”

  Alyssa nodded, smiling. “Your grandmother is delightful, Gram. I would love to stay and talk with her.”

  Freed from responsibility, he rose and exited. As he passed through the door he could hear them talking again already.

  “Your features remind me slightly of the people from the Southern Desert,” Elise was asking.

  He only heard the beginning of Alyssa’s answer as the door closed, “One of my grandparents came…”

  Gram hurried down the hall. He had missed the noon meal, and he was late for his meeting with Sir Cyhan.

  Chapter 13

  He encountered Perry in the castle yard before he could get to his meeting place.

  “Where did you go?” demanded the captain’s son. His face was flustered, and he gave off an angry air. He hadn’t enjoyed searching for them.

  “We returned the sheep,” said Gram calmly.

  “I checked the farmer’s cot,” returned Perry. “You weren’t there.”

  “Did you bother asking the farmer, or did you just ride by when you didn’t see the horses? He would have told you which direction we went,” said Gram, meeting Perry’s gaze evenly.

  “You sent me on a fool’s errand, and made haste to avoid me,” accused Perry.

  “I didn’t ask you for rope.” Gram’s voice held an unspoken threat.

  Two other young men, Robert Lethy and Sam Withers, spotted them and crossed the yard to join them. They were close friends of Perry’s, as well as being among Cyhan’s promising group of squire candidates.

  “You found him!” exclaimed Robert energetically as they approached. “We rode all over looking for you, Gram.” Robert was naturally gregarious, though he and Gram weren’t particularly close.

  Perry looked over at his friends. “I was just asking him if he ever found that panther.”

  “Panther?” asked Sam.

  Perry grinned, “Yeah, Gram said he was attacked by a big cat after he found the injured ewe.” Apparently he hadn’t bothered to tell them that part of the story before.

  “Attacked?” questioned Sam. “My Da says they won’t attack a grown man, too risky.”

  “It mighta’ been sick, or starvin’,” suggested Robert.

  Before Gram could respond, Perry spoke, “Gram killed it too, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” he said flatly. He knew his story would sound unbelievable. Perry was clearly trying to make him look like a liar, but his mind wouldn’t supply him with the words that would settle the situation.

  “What did you kill it with?” asked Robert, honestly curious. “Did you have a bow with you?” He paused when Gram didn’t respond, then he added incredulously, “Was it a spear?”

  “I…”

  “He was barehanded!” announced Perry.

  “What?!” Sam’s voice was stunned.

  “It sprang at me by the stream, and I managed to roll into the water with it. I held my breath until it quit moving,” said Gram. It sounded crazy to his own ears, but it was the truth.

  As preposterous as his story was, the two young men looked as though were prepared to believe him. Gram had never been known to brag or make up stories.

  “Where is it?” asked Robert enthusiastically. “I want to see it!”

  “Well, I don’t have…”

  “…he lost it in the water, fellows,” said Perry, talking from the side of his mouth, as though he were hinting that they should pretend to believe something clearly untrue. Gram bristled at him.

  “I never said that,” he insisted. “Chad Grayson showed up before you got there. I let him take the body back.”

  “And I’m sure he’ll back up your story,” said Perry, “though he’ll probably have ‘lost’ it by then.”

  “Are you calling me a liar, Perry?” challenged Gram. Sam and Robert both took a step back from the two of them.

  “Of course, not,” said Perry derisively. “If I suggested that you paid the huntsman to back up a false story, you’d probably challenge me. Then I’d be shamed for thrashing the noble, but untrained young Thornbear.”

  “Oh I doubt young Master Gram would tell anyone if ye wanted to keep it private, Perry,” said the voice of Chad Grayson. He had approached unnoticed. “He was kind enough to keep my name clean after he and I had our differences. I’d be wary, though. The boy is monstrously strong. If he gets his hands on ye, he’ll likely break somethin’ ‘afore ye get free agin. Ye should see what he did ta’ me cat!”

  All four of them looked at him in surprise.

  Chad gestured at the gatehouse, “It’s over there if ye want ta look. I’m takin’ it to the tanner’s in a bit, so ye don’t have too long.”

  “You really did drown it?” said Sam in amazement.

  Gram nodded, “Yeah.”

  “Ye should be more careful with yer words, young Draper,” admonished the hunter.

  The captain’s son knew he had made a mistake, and he admitted it immediately, “Sorry Master Grayson, the fault is mine.” His eyes said something completely different when they met Gram’s, though.

  The four of them left the hunter and went to look at the big cat. Gram was headed in that direction anyway.

  “Look at the size o’ that pussy!” exclaimed Robert, which caused him and Sam both to laugh. It was stretched out on a heavy table inside the wall near the gate. One of the guards told them that they were planning to weigh it, although he was already betting that it was over two hundred pounds.

  Gram stood apart, with Perry.

  “No hard feelings?” he asked the other, offering his hand.

  Perry met his eyes and then took it, “Yeah. Sorry for what I said.” His grip was firmer than it needed to be.

  Gram tightened his own hand in response, “In future, if you feel the need, Master Grayson was telling the truth. I’d meet you someplace private, and we could keep it between us, no matter how it turned out.”

  Perry tensed, but then the anger drained out of his eyes. �
��I believe you, but it’s alright. I was being an ass. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Gram knew exactly what had come over him, and after his morning with Alyssa he could better understand Perry’s feelings. “She turned my brains to mush too,” said Gram.

  The captain’s son frowned momentarily, then smiled faintly, “May the better man win.” He moved to join the others.

  Gram left them then, hoping Cyhan wouldn’t be too angry when he met up with him. He was already almost an hour late.

  ***

  Cyhan had already heard about the search for them, and he seemed unbothered by the delay. He showed more interest in Gram’s stitches. “Those look well done.”

  “My grandmother seemed impressed too,” Gram told him.

  “The girl has more to her than most. You will still have scars, though. You won’t be quite as pretty anymore.”

  Is he teasing me? Gram wasn’t sure. The big man had never made any attempts at humor before. “I wasn’t too worried about it,” he replied neutrally.

  “Let one of the wizards see it,” suggested Cyhan. “They could close it, and you wouldn’t have to bother with the stitches. The scars would be smaller too.”

  It was something that had occurred to Gram already, but he had discarded the idea without giving it much consideration, though he wasn’t sure why. He raised a hand to his cheek, pensive. “It doesn’t feel right,” he admitted. “I’d rather keep them.”

  The old veteran’s eyes watched him, and Gram worried for a moment. Would he think Gram was being vain? Some young men would treasure scars as badges of honor, something to brag about around the fire at night. He might also think Gram was being unnecessarily sentimental. Gram waited to see what the old knight would say.

  Cyhan studied him silently for a moment longer and then looked away, rising to his feet. “Let’s get started. I’ll avoid your face ‘til it’s finished healing.” And that was it.

  Gram felt a sense of relief. He never knew what his teacher was thinking, but he could feel a certain kinship. Cyhan understood, and he accepted. He rarely gave praise of any sort, but his acceptance was more than enough.