by Amelia Brown
“May I introduce Lady Luveday, recently of Lander’s Keep. Lady, meet the most skilled of Stern’s household knights, Sir Bernard.” Sir Bernard’s frown and look of interest were replaced by a welcoming smile.
“Dear Lady, you are most welcome here.” He seemed to start as she tried to reply and ushered them in through the massive doors as a porter held them open. Sir Bernard called for the refreshments to be taken to the hearth, as Luveday got a glimpse of the hall. It was well appointed and spacious hall. The tables were being cleared, signaling they had missed the noonday meal, but there was a well-ordered feeling to the place that Lander’s Keep had lacked until well into her stay there. “Come Lady and rest yourself.” Luveday’s attention turned from the shields on the wall, a common enough sight in a castle, to the hearth where Sir Bernard, and Benedict talked while she was out of hearing.
“Damn,” she heard Benedict mutter as she came closer. Sir Bernard cleared his throat, and Benedict looked a little sheepish at her raised eyebrow.
“Forgive us My Lady, but I informed his lordship that Lord Stern and Lady Margaret were called away not two days ago to Heath Castle to be present for the birth of her daughter’s first child.” Luveday nodded understandingly. “’Tis why there was only me to greet you.”
Luveday thought a moment, “So they left even before your messenger arrived.” She looked to Benedict who nodded and shrugged.
“I’m afraid they will not be back for a fortnight at least, My Lady, but you are most welcome to stay as long as you like. The solar is being prepared for you, and Sir Klein’s room for you My Lord.” At that moment the food and drinks arrived, and they sat to talk. Luveday brought the pewter cup to her lips and was pleasantly surprised to find cider instead of ale. She drank carefully non-the-less. Every bite that came to her lips tasted better than ever thanks to the hasty meals of dried food she had consumed over the last few days.
The men talked while Luveday listened drowsily, happy that she was in a comfortable chair that did not move beneath her. Luveday listened to Benedict talk with the knight, serious and jesting in turns. The two men seemed old friends, then again, if Stern was a sworn blood brother to he and Iain, they must have been in each other’s company often.
“Would you like to freshen up and rest a bit before the evening meal My Lady?” A young woman asked seeming to appear at Luveday’s shoulder.
“Yes, thank you.” Luveday rose to excuse herself. Benedict looked at her, and Luveday realized that the two men had completely forgotten about her for a moment. If that was the case, she didn’t feel bad about leaving them to their talk.
The young woman, Ann, lead her to the solar where a large pitcher of hot water, scented soap, and towels were laid out for her. Ann helped Luveday out of her traveling dress, marveling at the ingenuity of the split skirts. Once in her chemise Luveday bathed as much of herself as she could, including her hair. Ann thought they might be able to get the small tub up after dinner and she could have a proper bath. Luveday sighed at the idea and accepted as long as it wasn’t too much trouble. Feed and washed she crawled into the big bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
It seemed but a moment until Ann woked her for the meal and helped her dress in one of three other gowns she had brought with her. Hair braided prettily atop her head. Ann insisted upon a veil, and though Lady St. James had made sure she carried on, Luveday had never warn it, not even for the Queen. Veil in place, Luveday thought she must look every inch the proper lady. Dinner progressed uneventfully, though Sir Bernard who sat at her left, kept looking at her with something between nervousness and awe. His conversation seemed stilted compared to earlier. In fact, he had turned to her as if he had something to say, only to halt, cough, change the subject and grow silent. Several times he apologized before turning to the man on his other side.
She looked to her right, to Benedict for an explanation. He laughed softly and bent to her ear. “I may have shared your healing of the young prince with him before dinner.” She heard rather than saw the smile in his voice. “He is rather in awe to have such a renowned and honored lady sit at his arm for a meal.”
Luveday attempted to get the knight to speak to her before the meal was over, and Sir Bernard settled a little before they retired to the hearth. Not long after the meal was cleared and the tables were taken down, Ann appeared to take her upstairs.
“Sleep well, My Lady.” Sir Bernard offered.
Benedict warned, “Be ready to rise early. We leave not long after dawn. With Stern gone, there is no need to tarry.” Luveday nodded and said her goodnights.
As she undressed and readied for her bath, Luveday wondered if Benedict didn’t have some message he was to carry to Stern for the King or Queen. They had planned to stay two days at least, to rest the horses, but now there was no delaying the King’s business.
Clean from head to toe, she pondered what she had come to learn of Briar’s Gate. It sounded like a wonderful and magical place, except for the shadow its lady cast over the domain. Falling to sleep, she had time only to as God to give her patience and help preserve her and guide her. Once again, she felt overwhelmed, a ship lost at sea while a storm moved across the horizon.
They left with the suns waking. Sir Bernard wishing them Godspeed, and their packs full of a generous amount of provisions, which Luveday took as a thank you for her help in saving Stern months ago.
Though she was disappointed that their stay was so short and that Stern and his wife were absent, Luveday felt as if something waited for them. It was as if that storm she felt on her horizon was not just a metaphor but somehow awaited them; its heart settled above Briar’s Gate and growing stronger with each passing day. There was no way to skirt this storm, the only path lay through, and she prayed they weathered it well.
Chapter 17
“Quick-loving hearts … may quickly loathe.”
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sonnets from the Portuguese
Color and beauty filled the fragrant air that swirled with the scent of flowers and sea salt in turns. The sweet and the salty only complimented each other rather than jar the senses. Men and women worked in the fields which, more often than not, wore a profusion of flowers rather than the first crops of spring. Luveday expected a castle behind the ivy-covered stone walls, but what she found was a large manor house built off an old stone tower. Round, rather than square, Luveday wondered if it was some lighthouse or something unfinished as the shape didn’t seem to fit with the wood and stone structure that had grown up beside it.
It had taken some moments before the doors to the walled bailey were opened to them. Only the name of the King granted them access which Benedict and the other men were not happy about it, perhaps as unhappy as the people of Briar’s Gate seemed to be with their presence. Luveday was certain that something was afoot.
Luveday dismounted, once again with Benedict’s help. They shared a look she knew meant the game was on. While Lord St. James was there in the name of the King, Luveday was there to gauge the healing properties of the flowers and plants the area grew in abundance, some of which seemed to flourish only here. At least that was her cover story. They had agreed that the less official her stay appeared, the more likely it was that Lady Claudia might confide in her. That it was extremely unlikely that a woman, who was as shrewd and cunning as this lady was told to be, would confide in a total stranger was a thought that Luveday had kept to herself.
The wealth this family possessed was evident in every corner of the hall. They waited by a large stone hearth though the structure was mostly paneled in rich dark woods. It looked as if she was in one of the manor houses on the east coast, something like the old families of New York still possessed. Fabrics were on almost every chair; heavy drapes covered a large glass window. Luveday had heard that the flower trade had been extremely good to Lord Titus’s family, and his wife had a mind particularly suited to expanding her trade, even across oceans.
Looking around, Luveday admitted that the talk wasn
’t all exaggerations as she had seen this level of luxury only at the King’s Court. Luveday perched lightly on the edge of a heavy carved chair as Benedict stood with his back to the room gazing broodingly into the fire. He was one hundred percent Lord St. James at that moment, none of the charming courtly knight could be seen.
Minutes ticked by, stretching out as quite settled over the hall. Luveday heard the distant whisper of servants, but still, no one came to greet them. The middle-aged woman who had ushered them into the hall had seemed harried by their arrival, though they both knew that a messenger had been sent by the King to inform the lady of his man’s impending arrival. Only Benedict knew the content of that missive and said it would not interfere with the rolls they were playing, but Luveday could see that this visit had put everyone on edge.
Finally, the woman returned and another woman, dresses in a lovely rose-colored gown, with flowing sleeves and long flowing golden locks barely covered by her modest veil, came gliding in behind her.
Luveday was taken back by the women, who reminded her of sleeping beauty, as she sincerely apologized at having kept them waiting so long. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long. Bea had trouble finding me in the west garden.” The women’s smile was soft and kind, exactly like a fairytale princess should be. “We were not expecting you for two more days, Lord St. James. And who is this lady?”
“Lady Claudia, may I introduce Lady Luveday, she is currently in favor as the King’s healer.” The other lady looked intrigued but waited patiently for an explanation. “When I knew I would be journeying here, the lady said she had heard of Briar’s Gate and wished to see the plants you grow here and study their healing attributes.”
The smile on the other’s lady’s face widened. “You are most welcome, Lady Luveday, a lady healer, how extraordinary.” The lady took Luveday’s arm and patted it; the gesture was motherly though Luveday thought they were very near the same age. “You are most welcome to stay here, Lady and avail yourself of what help and knowledge we can provide.” The lady turned away, and Luveday exchanged a perplexed look with Benedict who only shrugged as the lines around his eyes grew more pronounced. The smile he gave her was as sedate as she had ever seen on his face, a bare twitch at the corners of his mouth. “Bea, Bea?” She called the serving woman who had disappeared through a far door a moment ago and now returned.
“My Lady?” She curtsied.
“Bea, are the rooms ready for Lord St. James and Lady Luveday?” At the woman’s nod, Claudia looked quite pleased. “I hope your men will not find it too lonely in the warehouse. It’s warm and dry, and much better than the barracks this time of year.”
“Warehouse?” Luveday was curious that why would need something so large as the word warehouse conjured.
“Why yes Lady Luveday.” Claudia looked at her as if she were a little slow. “We store much through the seasons, blubs for spring, dried flowers for winter, and so on.”
Glancing at Benedict, Luveday saw a softening in his eyes and grew worried. “Of course.” The words fell from Luveday’s lips without thought.
Lady Claudia took charge. “How lucky that our recent guests have departed that the two of you may have the best rooms in the hall.” Two women appear through the far door. One carrying Luveday’s backpack and Benedict’s pack. Claudia continues nodding to the young women. “Gemma and Clare will show you to your rooms to freshen up and rest; I will have something brought to your rooms.” Bea waits almost impatiently just beyond the doorway through which her lady had entered.
Dismissed by the lady’s back, Benedict and Luveday follow the women up to a carved stair and through several rooms until the come to a hallway. Luveday goes right, and Benedict left, glancing at each other as they part ways.
The water is cold but not as cold as the room even though the spring sun shone through large glass windows onto a colorful garden there was something gloomy about it that Luveday couldn’t shake. Looking out the small diamonds of glass, she couldn’t help but think of sleeping beauties cottage and almost snorted at her penchant for acquainting Lady Claudia with the fabled princess.
Wiping down as best she could, Luveday wasn’t surprised by the quick knock or the door opening to admit Benedict though she had yet to answer.
“Clever,” He retrieved the scarf from the floor and laid it on the bed. After Clair, the plainer of the two young women had left, Luveday had purposefully placed her scarf in the door as it closed so that Benedict could find her room. Hopefully to a passerby, it would look as if it were merely an accident.
“Anyone in the corridor?” Luveday asks, he looked puzzled for a moment and then a look of knowing shined from his eyes. He hadn’t thought she would notice such things, but Luveday had watched enough spy movies to know what to look for.
“I heard and saw no one, though I had expected someone stationed atop the stairs.” He turned to see Luveday’s gowns hanging from the open wardrobe and glanced back at her. “Let us rest tonight; my inquiries can start tomorrow.” He looked at the notebook and several items on the foot of the bed.
Benedict had been curious about some of the stuff from her time, and so Luveday had tried to keep them out of sight, but Clair had started to unpack her backpack before Luveday could usher her out with the reassurance that she could finish by herself and really, just wanted to rest. In the push to rush the girl out, Luveday had forgotten to put the items back. Luckily, Luveday had kept much of her belongings in a locked trunk in her room at Lion’s Gate where she had every intention of returning after this ordeal.
“She is not what we heard or expected.” Luveday offered, not sure how to tell Benedict to keep up his guard, but the man was eyes and ears for the King, so she shouldn’t need to tell him that. Right? She was here on her own mission and remembered that she to would report to the King. She hoped this was some sort of misunderstanding and that she could help Lady Claudia, but she wasn’t sure that the lady needed help. At least not the kind she was offering.
“No, but we have only just arrived.” He countered.
“My thoughts exactly.” She murmured.
“I’ll leave you to your rest, lady.” He turned to leave. “I will check on the men before the evening meal.” He added as he turned to close the door behind him. “Rest well.”
Luveday was sure she would need it.
The gardens were exquisite. There was no other word for it. Part of her was sad that such splendor sat hidden away from the world. Another part was glad that masses of people didn’t tour the gardens trampling its solitary beauty. Here not only blossoms scented the air, but herbs like lavender, mint, basil, and cloves. Orange trees and lemon trees peeked over the garden wall. Clair, who had awoken her this morning had hinted that other spices were brought from afar to add to the complex mixtures in the soup and perfume houses.
Luveday itched to know how everything worked, but her curiosity had to come second to her reason here. Last night had been uneventful. Dinner was rather solitary at the high table with Lady Claudia. Except for a few people the hall had been empty. Luveday was told that most servants went home in the evening, and those that lived in the hall ate in the kitchens. The men at arms and household knights ate in the hall in turns and currently most were away on errands.
“Sir Navarro,” The young woman said his name on a sigh, and Luveday got the idea that he was a handsome young man from her moony expression, “has been touring the land for Lady Claudia. Spring is our hardest time of year, getting the flowers to bloom and all. ‘Tis a short time we have to get the work done, My Lady. It is so much harder than planting the spring crops.” She whispered.
“I can imagine,” Luveday muttered. A variety of flowers were seasonal, and annual meaning they would have to be replaced every year, unlike roses and other bush or vine perennials. Many plants were temperamental, like only the right soil and amount of water to bloom. Luveday wondered how they managed to keep the soil full of nutrients and made a mental note to ask as she bent to smel
l a fragrant pink rose, making sure not to touch the blossom for fear of bruising it.
Lady Claudia’s voice was surprisingly near. “You are careful with the flowers.” She said thoughtfully, obviously having watched Luveday for some time. “They burse so easily…” the lady seemed to be speaking to herself more than to Luveday who only nodded her agreement. “Few know or care how fragile they are. It’s rare to find a guest who takes such care, Lady Luveday.”
Not sure they were talking of just flowers Luveday hazarded a reply. “Life can be hard enough; I see no need to harm something so beautiful or so fleeting.”
Something in Claudia’s eyes said that she like her answer. “Come Lady and let me show you around some more of the gardens.”
As they walked, and Claudia pointed out a patch of this herb or that plant, she asked Luveday some probing questions. “How does a woman such as yourself become a healer, let alone one favored by the King?”
“Learning to heal seemed a practical skill to have, though I am often told that ladies are not suited for it.” Claudia almost growled under her breath, and Luveday wondered if she hadn’t met another medieval feminist. “I seem to have a talent for it, or so I have been told.” Luveday didn’t mean to boast, much. “As for gaining the favor of the King, I have to say that was not my doing or intention but a small miracle and my own stubbornness.”
Laughing, Claudia took her arm, the first truly friendly gesture she had seen from the woman yet. “Now that sounds like a story indeed, My Lady. Share and I will take you out to flower tables to talk to Leah, she is the healing woman of the village, and perhaps the most skilled with the use of flowers.”
So Luveday told her tale and told it well as they journeyed beyond the garden walls until they reached a series of buildings set beyond the house grounds. People bustled around carrying baskets, jars, pots, and buckets.