Out of the Dark

by JoAnn Smith Ainsworth

  She pushed herself free of the rug and stumbled to her feet, reaching out with searching hands. No walls were nearby.

  “They must have dumped me in the middle of the room.”

  Lynnet shivered in the damp coldness. She wore only a lightweight, morning dress. Upon leaving her bedchamber, she had expected to be quickly sitting in front of Matilda’s warming fire.

  She wondered how long she’d been unconscious as she brushed herself off. Her body gave her no indication. It was neither thirsty nor hungry.

  “That’s a good sign. I haven’t been unconscious for long.”

  Slowly, she slid her feet across the stone floor. Her extended hands moved left and right, up and down. When her toe struck a wooden crate, she edged her way around it and passed two more stacked crates until she felt the wall. She inched her way along, working herself past bags of foodstuffs and crates until at last she came to a door.

  “You’d better be unlocked,” she threatened the door.

  When she found the latch, she pressed it eagerly and it clicked open.

  They didn’t bar the door! How stupid. Do they think blind means helpless?

  She touched the silver chain around her neck and worked her fingers along its length until she reached the crystal pendant. This good luck charm must get her to safety before her kidnappers returned.

  Lynnet pushed the door further open and listened. No footsteps. No voices. But she could smell foul water. She wrinkled her nose.

  That stench must be the Thames. All the garbage of London ends up in that river.

  Lynnet decided she was in an outside corridor instead of an interior one. She could see vague shadows from sunlight filtering through archers’ slits. She smiled, grimly, relieved to still be within Tower walls.

  As she turned to her right, she caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure, beckoning. The sounds of the river came from that direction. Her grandmother’s benevolent spirit was guiding her through the power of the crystal.

  “I must be close to the Water Gate.”

  This gate opened onto the River Thames. It welcomed commerce and prisoners alike.

  “The guards stationed there will take me to my chambers.”

  Making sure her fingers stayed connected with the massive stones of the wall, she walked towards the apparition. Although it dissolved as she got closer, Lynnet was unafraid. This kind of thing had been happening to her since she was blinded. Her parents became angry when she mentioned the apparition. She’d learned long ago not to speak of its appearances.

  “Halt. Who goes there?”

  A Tower guard? So soon? She was closer than she realized to the Water Gate.

  “I’m lost. Help me.”

  The guard took her arm to steady her.

  “What happened to you? You’re hurt.”

  Lynnet touched her face, which felt sore and swollen.

  “Should I take you to your family?” he asked.

  After last night’s humiliation, Lynnet craved the comfort of someone who listened with loving concern instead of criticism. She didn’t want to be alone or to be with her parents. She wanted a chance to lay out what she overheard yesterday in the light of a friend’s levelheadedness. She wanted to explain the terror of being kidnapped today. Lynnet wanted to be with her friend.

  “I’m trying to reach the chambers of Lady Matilda, wife of the Baron Geoffrey de la Werreiur.”

  With Matilda’s wool cloak covering her, Lynnet huddled on a stool, finishing a mug of heated ale and nibbling on sweetmeats. The ointment Matilda applied to heal the bruising caused by the blow to her chin also soothed pain. A roaring fire seeped warmth into her bones.

  Lord Geoff’s status demanded the best of apartments. Their chamber was only a few doors from her own and that of her parents.

  She and Matilda had met only a couple of weeks ago here at winter court. Soon, like soul mates, they were spilling their hearts’ inner secrets to each other. She’d just finished chronicling what happened to her since yesterday.

  Lynnet took another sweetmeat, indulging herself, now that she was safe and warm.

  Matilda’s body created a silhouette against the wall from the flickering firelight as she paced. As she turned to Lynnet, her friend’s torment spilled outward.

  “You must tell the authorities.”

  “The sheriff might be a part of this.”

  “I can’t believe that,” Geoff said, his voice getting louder as he made his point. “I’ve known Basil for at least five years. He’s honorable.”

  Lynnet turned towards Geoff. He was leaning against a tapestried wall near the fireplace. Even the vague outline of his lithe, powerful body seemed ready to spring into action.

  “He came along immediately afterward,” she said. “He sounded angry that he’d missed those men.”

  “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

  “You must ask Basil for protection.” Matilda waved her arms while making her point. “Those men are trying to kill you.”

  “I don’t know for sure that today was connected to yesterday in the cellars. The men today were ruffians. They may have wanted ransom.”

  “It’s more likely the two are connected,” Geoff said.

  “At least you believe me. My parents think I’m hearing things. Since I lost my sight, strange things sometimes happen.”

  Lynnet touched her crystal where it nestled under her blue woolen bodice.

  Matilda gave Lynnet a hug before plopping down in a chair opposite the fireplace.

  “Of course, we believe you.”

  Geoff moved away from the wall and approached Lynnet.

  “If there’s the slightest chance of trouble brewing, the sheriff needs to know. The crown must be protected.”

  “That’s right,” Matilda said.

  “Basil has the king’s trust,” Geoff added.

  “You should give him yours,” Matilda insisted.

  Lynnet’s head was a whirl. Bewildered, she started sputtering.

  “But…but…his voice…”

  “Many guests from northern shires stay at the king’s residences during winter court,” Matilda cautioned her, “including Basil’s father. They could easily sound alike.”

  Lynnet felt immediately relieved. Basil’s appearance in the cellar could have been pure coincidence.

  “Do you think the earl could be the conspirator?” Lynnet asked.

  Geoff shook his head in a shadowy movement.

  “The earl would never turn against his king. But there are others from Chester who would.”

  The heaviness surrounding Lynnet’s heart since yesterday lifted. The bond she’d immediately felt with Basil hadn’t been misplaced. Her heart had known him innocent even while her mind thought him guilty.

  “You must tell Basil. If the king is in danger, there must be no delay.” Geoff was adamant. His certainty was like the tide. It could not be fought.

  “I’ll talk with the sheriff.”

  “You must tell your parents, also.”

  Lynnet turned in the direction of Matilda.

  “Must I?”

  Her stomach knotted at the thought of it.

  “It’ll be worse if you don’t.”

  “But they told me not to get involved in politics.”

  “You have no choice. The king must be protected.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Lynnet was resigned.

  “We’ll go with you.”

  “From now on,” Geoff said, “don’t go anywhere by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”

  Lynnet agreed. Her world was definitely no longer safe.

  Basil bent over the large oak table in an anteroom of the Treasury on the storeroom level of the Tower, going over the figures the scribe had written down and double-checking the tally. A pen and ink map of the cellars cross-referenced to lists of supplies in each storeroom was spread out on the table. The scribe and the retainers who had helped take the inventory were seated nearby.

  When the Tre
asury door crashed open, Basil turned towards it, exasperated at an interruption. Only minutes before, according to a two-hour rotation schedule, the guards assigned to the vault changed with much stamping of feet and shouting of orders. Basil had just refocused on the inventory figures when here was another interruption. He turned towards the intruder, frowning. His frown changed to a smile when he saw who it was.

  “Lord Geoffrey, good to see you.” He shoved his wooden chair backward, scraping it across the stone floor, and rose to greet his friend with a bear hug and much slapping of backs.

  “And I, you. It’s been awhile.”

  Basil offered him a chair, but Geoff chose to stand.

  “What brings you to the bowels of the Tower?”

  “Lady Lynnet of Osfrith.”

  Basil’s stomach turned queasy.

  “What does she want?”

  “It’s a confidential matter of some urgency. I’ll take you to her.”

  “You rich people don’t care what important work you interrupt, do you?”

  Geoff chuckled.

  “We like to keep you poor bastards downtrodden.”

  Basil shook his head wearily, resigned to not completing the verification of the inventory. At the same time, his heart beat faster as he wondered how the Saxon beauty would treat him today.

  Basil waved a hand towards the cluttered table.

  “Give me a moment to finish up here.”

  He addressed the scribe and the retainers. “Lock the map and lists in the trunk. Give the guard the key. Meet me here tomorrow at dawn so we can finish the tally.”

  He stuck his short sword into its sheath and turned to Geoff.

  “Lead on, Baron. Let’s find out why the lady raised this hue and cry.”

  Basil sympathized with Lynnet as she stumbled over her tongue while relating the events of yesterday and this morning. Her she-devil mother butted in, criticizing and belittling.

  He was also incensed.

  She should have told me this yesterday. I need to report this to the king.

  They were assembled in her parents’ chamber. It was one of the more elegantly furnished chambers in the Tower with heavy velvet bed draperies, brightly colored tapestries and leather chairs. The large fireplace was well-stocked with logs against the chill of a bleak November day.

  Lord Geoffrey and he leaned against the wall beneath the shuttered window. Lady Matilda and Lady Lynnet sat on chairs. Lady Durwyn sat primly on the edge of the bed, her feet on a stepping stool. The position put her higher than the other women. Her husband had pulled a cushioned stool towards the bed and sat like a whipped cur at his wife’s feet.

  Lady Lynnet had just finished relating this morning’s abduction when her mother broke in.

  “You must forgive my daughter, Sheriff. She’s given to flights of fancy.”

  Lady Durwyn rose and faced him. She took a deep breath and pulled herself up to her full height.

  “It’s difficult for me to divulge this, but for the longest time our daughter told us she could see the ghost of my deceased mother-in-law.”

  “But, Mother,” Lynnet said, wringing her hands, a deep frown creasing her forehead. “Lord Geoffrey found the rug they wrapped me in.”

  “I don’t deny you were kidnapped, Daughter,” her mother said in a tone that clearly said ‘do not interrupt’. “The bruising on your face is serious, not to speak of unsightly.”

  Lynnet visibly winced.

  “I just say you were taken for ransom, not conspiracy. After all, the wool trade made my lands prosperous. I’m quite wealthy. Any fool knows those ruffians were after our money.”

  Lynnet blushed, looking embarrassed. Basil was about to come to her defense when her father spoke up.

  “My dear, we need to keep an open mind.”

  Lord Wilfgive’s high-pitched, tenor voice seemed excessively conciliatory. In size, Lynnet’s father was only a couple of inches taller than his daughter. His wife towered over both. Despite his well-known reputation as a scholar, on the short-legged stool he seemed insignificant. The exception was the quality of his clothing. That was designed to impress.

  “We should hear what the sheriff has to say,” Lord Geoffrey said.

  Everyone’s attention focused on Basil. When Lady Lynnet turned towards where he stood, his heart speeded up despite his intention to be disinterested. He cleared his throat.

  “I’m investigating a series of robberies from the Tower.”

  His bass voice reverberated against the stone walls, making him self-conscious. This was the aspect of his occupation he liked the least. A man of action, words were a second choice.

  “It’s possible this abduction had nothing to do with yesterday. Perhaps the thieves saw your daughter as an easy prey for kidnapping and a ransom.”

  Geoff pushed himself abruptly away from the wall, seeming to startle Lynnet. He ran his fingers through his hair as if agitated.

  “But she heard someone speak of chaos in the kingdom. We can’t take lightly anything that touches on the king.”

  Before Basil could assure Geoff that action would be taken, her father spoke up.

  “You haven’t known us long, Baron. Our daughter hears voices that no others hear. It started after illness caused her blindness.”

  Basil watched Lynnet’s face flush beet-red.

  “Father, I’m blind, not deaf. My hearing is better than yours. Most times, what I hear can be explained.”

  “But there are other times, Daughter. This may be one of them.”

  Basil’s stomach gave a twist as if he was the one under attack. Lynnet was being made to look foolish in front of her friends and him. He cleared his throat.

  “I’ll look into both your daughter’s kidnapping and the conspiracy,” he assured them.

  Geoff leaned back against the wall as if satisfied.

  Lady Durwyn started pacing, something a noble woman never did in company. The train of her purple woolen kirtle dragged against the flagstones. It demonstrated the intensity of her distress as she spoke.

  “I don’t want to be embroiled in lengthy investigations.”

  “I’ll do my best to shield you during my inquiries.”

  The husband calmed his wife, his voice soothing.

  “See, my dear, the sheriff will handle everything. We don’t have to be involved.”

  Not involved? Your own daughter’s life is at stake.

  Chapter Three

  Basil stood at attention in an antechamber of the Great Hall of Westminster Palace. He felt naked without his dagger and short sword, but no man came before the king wearing weapons, not even the sheriff. The arms were left with the guard before entering the antechamber door. The arched windows were shuttered against the chill of this November day. Candles set in wall sconces provided flickering light to the small chamber.

  The king sat behind a carved table in a wooden chair whose curved arms ended in cat paws. Hanging on the wall behind the king was purple silk, draping nearly ceiling to floor. An ornate shield hung to the left side. A mace and battle-axe crisscrossed on the right.

  King Henry was renowned for building his bureaucracy with men plucked from obscurity instead of appointing contentious barons. These were educated men from the working class or noble sons not in line to inherit. The corrupt civil servants inherited from his brother, King Rufus, were gradually being replaced by men the king could trust.

  King Henry certainly plucked me out of obscurity.

  Basil’s first ten years were lived in an Ipswich tavern near the docks where his mother was a barmaid. The raucous, rowdy sailors and travelers going to and coming from France were all he knew until his father decided to acknowledge the bastard son he conceived one night before sailing to Normandy. Yanking Basil away from his mother’s care, the earl dropped him into the academic life of a Chester monastery.

  Since the earl was their benefactor, Basil could always be forgiven indiscretions by monks who wanted nothing to stop the flow of money from their patr
on. After seven years of Latin, Greek, French, Math, Science, Astronomy, Music and Literature, he was removed again without notice and thrust into training as a military officer. This life suited him. There was nothing he liked better than to knock a few heads together when men got in the way of his justice.

  Basil shifted his bulk self-consciously as hooded, dark eyes, hovering above a long, beaked nose, concealed King Henry’s cunning and intelligence. He seemed to take his sheriff’s measure. The sheriff silently vowed to live up to the deeds of his namesake, St. Basil the Great. It wasn’t wise to disappoint a powerful king.

  “You’re the best man to investigate,” the king’s deputy was saying, “especially if Normans are involved as Lady Lynnet believes. You’re a man who knows his duty.”

  The king leaned forward. “I’m told you are not open to bribery.”

  “No man will succeed in avoiding the king’s justice by trying to bribe me.”

  His throat felt tighter than usual, making his voice higher. It came from not being entirely at ease in exalted company.

  Basil was glad for his years of training in the monastery. The monks had given him the words, at least, to hold his own in polite company. His mother’s contribution to his vocabulary tended towards the coarse language of the wharves.

  “I want the truth, no matter where it leads.” The king slowly shook his head, looking troubled. “These days, it’s hard to tell friend from foe.”

  King Henry relaxed back into his chair. From his manner, it was obvious the meeting was over.

  Basil relaxed his own stance in response.

  The deputy took charge. A man of small stature and slight build, he had remained standing to the right of the king as if not wanting to be intimidated by Basil’s height. What Baron Otheur lacked in stature, he made up for with a booming voice and an air of authority.

  “Report to me personally on your investigations. We’ll meet here midmorning two days from now.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “You are dismissed. These coins should cover expenses.”

  Basil caught the leather pouch thrown by the deputy. Its weight assured him it would buy informants.

  Late that night, long after Basil had returned from his meeting with the king, Matilda and Geoff were relaxing over a goblet of ale before retiring. Matilda, a shawl around her, snuggled her head into Geoff’s chest as they sat side-by-side on a bench at the table in their bedchamber. His arm hung around her shoulder, his right hand caressing the curve of her breast. She twisted slightly to give him more access.