“Ah, that was your mistake, sir,” the innkeeper said. “I was married many years to a demanding woman and can clearly see the folly of your actions. Your heart was in the right place, but your thinking was all wrong. Now a man can appreciate the value of a fine pig and would be happy with such a gift,” he told Kael. “But not a woman. No sir. The woman would’ve been happier to receive some ribbons or a necklace. Something extravagant. Something pretty and useless.”
Kael slapped his forehead. “But of course, my good man! You are absolutely right. How could I have been so buffleheaded?”
“It takes time to learn these things,” the innkeeper said, his self-pleasure evident.
Kael arose from the table and headed back to his room. “Thank you for your advice, good sir. In the morning, I shall go buy her mother something pretty and useless.”
“Sir,” the innkeeper called out. “It would be wise to buy your wife something as well.”
Kael nodded in agreement, believing he had successfully satisfied the nosy old codger’s suspicions.
When he stepped into his room, Alyn stood before the shuttered window, softly rocking the sleeping infant in her arms. Her gaze bore into him and he was stung by the chill in her eyes.
“What is wrong with this child, sir? What kind of baby is it?” Her voice was timorous.
He would have to weave one more web of lies tonight.
His voice was subdued as he spoke, leaning back against the door, trying to quell the stirrings provoked by the sight of her. “It is the child of a man, Alyn. It is the child of my brother.” He knew he had to compose himself and be strong. He could not allow this tempting wench to unnerve him.
Crossing the room to sit upon the edge of the bed, he searched his imagination for a tale more believable than the one he’d told the midwife, appalled by the number of lies he’d told in a single night.
“Just last year my brother was to be married,” he said slowly. “At the last moment, his bride refused him, for he was a wizard and could not provide her with the wealth she desired. In a spate of anger, Fane cast a spell on her, turning her into a troll in order to keep her from marrying anyone else while he then went to Skur, attempting to claim the treasure there, hoping its wealth would buy the girl’s affection. But Fane died on Skur and the child’s mother died in birth. All that is left is this orphaned baby, whom I promised my brother I would care for.”
“Oh, sir,” Alyn said, “what a sad time for you.” She cradled the infant closer, her pity and compassion for the child bringing tears to her eyes. Why would a wizard be so wicked as to turn the woman he loved into a troll?
She gazed over at Kael with new admiration. How many men would take on this kind of responsibility? She could think of none, yet here was one courageous and caring enough to see to the child’s welfare. Her heart went out to this sad, handsome warrior and the unfortunate child, who through no fault of its own would be forced to endure its father’s foolish wrath for the rest of its life.
3
The Road to Avar
He had spent the night wrapped up in his fur cloak upon the hard chair, and awoke stiff-jointed and weary. After a hot breakfast of boiled potatoes and eggs shared with the wet-nurse in his room, Kael left the inn under a more relaxed eye from the innkeeper. He made his way to the tailor’s where he purchased several tiny gowns and coifs for Elva. For Alyn, he also bought a more suitable dress of unbleached linen, with a matching scarf for her head, hoping it would disguise her well enough until they left Fead, for he feared someone might see them together, recognize who and what she was, and get the wrong impression.
Returning to the inn, he gave the garments over to Alyn.
“Leave the dress you’re wearing behind,” he told her. “I never want to see you in that tawdry thing again. I’ve arranged for us to ride to Avar with a drayman and his son who are delivering a cargo of flour. They will be leaving within the hour. Be ready.”
He left the room, allowing her the privacy to change.
Alyn held the new dress up. Looking it over, she wanted to cry. Did he really expect her to wear this hideous thing? It was a horrid smicket, not even fit for a charwoman. An especially large charwoman at that! It was stiff and shapeless, with a high neckline and long sleeves. What had the man been thinking? For one who carried himself as well as he did, he knew absolutely nothing about fashion. The garment was ugly and highly impractical.
But, he was her employer. If this is what he wanted, she dared not dispute him, for though she was free of the draper, she had merely transferred her indebtedness.
Discarding her tavern dress, she slipped into the oversized smicket and felt as if she’d just donned a huge sack. Even cinching it at the waist with her belt did nothing to improve the fit and when she tied the dull brown wiper about her head, she hoped no one she knew would see her looking like this.
When it was nearly time to meet the drayman, Kael stepped back into the room and stopped cold.
“This is more to your liking, sir?” Alyn asked.
It was all Kael could do not to burst out laughing. While the dress sufficiently covered her maddening flesh, it did nothing to disguise her allure, horrid as the garment was, but at least she no longer looked like she’d just stepped out of a tavern.
“It is more suitable,” he told her, trying not to say anything ugly. She appeared to be distressed enough already. He didn’t want to add to her despair.
“It will be impossible to feed the child in this, sir,” she complained. “There are no openings. I’ll have to completely disrobe every time she gets hungry.”
Kael quickly dispelled the image her words formed in his mind. “I hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted. His only goal had been to cover her skin and make her look matronly. “Very well. You will come and choose your own dress. Just keep in mind that it must be respectable. And you must still wear the scarf.” He still hoped to hide her identity from those in Fead.
Kael had to admit, when Alyn decided upon her own dress, she’d made a much better choice. There was no time for alterations, but it fit well enough and was quite acceptable, despite the fact that the neckline was cut low to provide easy access for a nursing child, for it came with a short cape that buttoned at the neck and covered her shoulders and bosom with stylish prudence. He even deigned to allow her to forego the scarf, opting for a fringed white cap instead. Not only did she now look respectable, she could have almost passed as a gentlewoman.
Bidding the patient tailor good day, he escorted Alyn and his spurious charge down the streets for the outskirts of Fead and they hurried for the flour mill. Meeting the drayman’s wagon along the road, they climbed into the back among the barrels of flour. Kael made Alyn a comfortable seat with his white, fur cloak, wishing he hadn’t left his horse in Avar. He’d much rather make this trip by horseback. But he’d left the gelding in the stablemaster’s care when he’d departed for Skur, for he could move more secretly on foot and Skur had demanded his utmost secrecy.
The dray rolled slowly over the rough, rutted road and its passengers were jostled just as much as the barrels about them. It was going to be a long, arduous journey, Kael decided, unable to get comfortable upon the splintery boards of the wagon bed. He fidgeted, begrudging the fact that Alyn rested comfortably upon the thick fur of his cloak. Had he believed he could bear it, he might have elected to sit close to her and share the cloak, but chose instead to keep his distance and endure the splinters.
Elva began to fuss and whimper. Alyn nestled the child to her breast, safely concealed beneath the cape. Kael had to turn away from the sight. The very thought was frustrating and he struggled to occupy his musings upon something far removed instead. He pulled the talisman from beneath his shirt, studying it in the sunlight, wondering how a simple stone could possibly hold so much power over a creature as powerful as Ragg.
“That is a beautiful crystal, sir,” Alyn spoke. “It holds a special meaning to you?”
“Yes,” Kael said wi
th a nod. “It was given to me by my brother before he died.” He fell silent.
“You must wear it always,” Alyn said. “To remember him.” Even though he’d been a foolish wizard, Alyn could see the love her employer had had for his brother. The glazing of his eyes revealed his heartsickness and it touched her to know that even a warrior could feel the pain of grief. It was a rare sight.
There was something about this warrior that intrigued her. It was like a loftiness, a loftiness that had nothing to do with his above-average height. It was more akin to something regal, an imperiousness unbesmirched by arrogance. He had human qualities, human failings, much as he tried to conceal them, and those qualities only added to his attractiveness.
The sun began to reach its zenith. Hot dust puffed beneath the wagon’s heavy wheels as the dray steadily continued down the road that cut a gentle line through the heath.
Kael knew he would wear the crystal and it had nothing to do with remembrance. He had made a solemn vow. He had sworn an oath to Fane and that oath could not be broken, but he did not want to speak of Fane. It was too painful, so he tucked the talisman back beneath his shirt and tried to change the subject. “How did you become so deeply indebted to the tavern master?”
“It’s a long story, sir.” She did not want to bore her new employer with the tale of her life.
Kael smiled. “We will not reach Avar until late tomorrow. We have time.”
“It is really not noteworthy, sir.”
“Talk to me. Tell me your tale.”
Obviously, he would not be satisfied until she told him. “Very well, sir,” she began. “My parents died eight years ago of the pox, leaving my younger brother and sister in my care. I did what I could, doing odd jobs for folks around Fead, earning a few coppers here and there. Then, just before I turned twelve, I began to scrub the floor and tables every morning at the tavern, but still it was not enough and the landlord refused to let us stay in my parent’s old home any longer. I simply could not afford all the taxes and still afford to feed and care for Lara and Bren.” She brushed the loose hair away from her face and laid Elva, now fast asleep, upon her lap.
“For a time we lived in the streets,” Alyn continued, “until the draper offered us a room in the tavern to stay in, and I worked the rent off by scrubbing the floors in the morning and serving ale at night.
“Then the fever came and we were all stricken. I wasn’t able to work while I was sick and I tried my best to take care of them, but the fever took first Lara, and then Bren.” She paused, wiping tears from her eyes.
Kael tried to fathom what it must have been like for her as a child being thrust into that position, but having never know want himself, it was difficult. He could understand her loss and her tears tugged at his heart, but was loathe to reach out to console her. She might look like a proper nursemaid, but he well remembered where he’d found her. “It must have been very hard on you,” he said.
“Yes.” Alyn sniffed, shielding the sleeping infant’s face from the sun with her hand. “But the draper helped and he paid for the funerals and assured me I had nothing to worry about. I could work the debt off when I was well. But the fever was with me for a very long time and by the time I could rise from the bed again I was in debt to him for three crowns.”
“Three crowns? For rent of a room?”
“Rent and funerals and food and elixirs. I felt I would owe him forever, no matter how much ale I served or how many floors I scrubbed.” She fell silent, as if her story ended there.
It was Kael who continued it. “So you became a whore.”
She winced beneath the sharp lash of his tone. “I had little choice, sir.”
Kael stared at her curiously. “Certainly you could have done something else. What made you decide … to pay off your debt in that manner?”
Alyn spoke softly, gazing only at the sleeping child on her lap. “I didn’t really decide, sir. It was decided for me.”
“How?”
“One night, after most of the patrons had gone, the draper took me aside and told me I must repay my debt faster or he would have me sent to prison.” She hesitated, reluctant to go on, her voice barely audible and Kael strained to hear her.
“He pointed then to a wealthy patron who would pay well for a dell, and, as I was still untouched, he gave me over to the man, telling me to take him to my room and do whatever he wished of me. I did not want to languish within a debtor’s prison, so I did. After that, every night the draper would send men to my room where I would entertain them and my debt finally began to dwindle.” She looked up into Kael’s eyes, speaking further. “So, besides scrubbing the floor and serving the ale, I laid with men to help work off my debt. But it has taken me two years to work off one crown.”
“Why has it taken so long?”
“I have been kept in debt in a number of ways. First, he raised my rent. Then he no longer allowed me to scrub the floor. He’d charge me for spilled ale. And he even charged me for the times he would take me himself, claiming he had to account for his own time spent.”
Kael had never had much sympathy for whores, but he was outraged at the tavern master and his treatment of this woman before him. “I should go back to Fead and arrest that scoundrel,” he growled. “It’s against the king’s law to force a body into servitude.”
“Please, no, sir,” Alyn begged, reaching out to grasp Kael’s hand. “I ask you, let him be. I’m just grateful to be free of him now.”
Kael glared down at her hand, still clutching onto his. The touch of her flesh upon his own caused his very toes to curl inside his boots. “Remove your hand from me, woman,” he said evenly, struggling to maintain his self-composure.
Alyn snatched her hand away.
“Do not do that again.” Kael brought his knees up and rested his arms upon them as he turned his gaze to the road behind.
Alyn burned with her shame. How could she have been so bold as to touch this handsome warrior unbidden? To be sure, he disapproved of her—of whom she was and what she had been, and her touch was obviously offensive, as if she were a contamination. She mustn’t forget her place. She was only with him to care for the child. Nothing more. That, she must never forget. She needed this employment, for he would probably not try to keep her indebted like the draper did. This was her gateway to true freedom.
But it hurt to think he despised her so. Why couldn’t he be more like other warriors she had known? Why couldn’t he be earthy and crude? Why did he have to be so attractive? And why did he have to be so bloody virtuous?
Damn the man and his copious appeal. She would keep her distance and care for the child. That is all. It is what he had hired her to do. Nothing more. Unless it concerned Elva, there was not even a reason to speak.
Nestling Elva into her arms, she leaned back against the barrel and closed her eyes, thinking she could probably like this uppish man if he would but allow it.
The dray continued down the road to Avar, stopping only for necessary bodily eliminations, and as darkness came, Alyn settled into sleep, curling up on Kael’s cloak, keeping Elva safe and warm in her arms.
Beneath the starlight, the dray moved on, endlessly jostling through the night. Kael dozed as best he could, leaning against a barrel, thinking how good it would be to get home to sleep in his own bed once again.
He should not have gotten so angry with the girl earlier. She had been quiet and withdrawn ever since and he did not care for that behavior in her. He had rather enjoyed talking with her, even if he didn’t approve of her former employment. And how was she to know her touch had stirred a madness to life within him? A madness he now struggled endlessly to contain. And she had not chosen to prostitute herself. That had been that greedy scoundrel of a draper’s choice. He could probably forgive her for that. But he could not forgive her for this chopping ache she instilled inside.
He closed his eyes and smiled, recalling the sight of her open dress in her room at the tavern and how his senses had been completely
swept away. Was the rest of her as dimber and perfect as her dairy was? He could only imagine, and his thoughts conjured visions better left unseen, for they only served to stoke the fire.
Only once before had he felt such desire for a girl and that had been five years ago when he was fifteen, just one year before he’d joined the King’s Service. Karlee had been a costermonger at the marketplace, a flaxen-haired lass with a seductive, dimpled smile. Kael had often lingered about her at the market, trying to get acquainted, often walking her home at day’s end. One evening, as they approached her home, he had dared to kiss her, but instead of returning the kiss she had slapped him and called him a dirty toad. The shame of that moment was forever imprinted upon his psyche, and he’d never given another girl the opportunity to rebuke him since. It was better to be lonely and keep his self-respect than to risk that kind of humiliation again.
Throughout the night Kael dozed fitfully, uncomfortable in the jostling wagon, his only consolation being the knowledge that tomorrow he would be home. His search for Fane had been trying, to say the least. The journey up mountain had been effortless—he’d encountered none of Ragg’s rumored consorts. It was only after he had found Fane that his troubles had begun. Troubles he felt ill-prepared to handle. It was so much easier to do battle with a man or even a beast than to deal with this burden Fane left him with. It was more trying than war.
Elva began to whimper and cry, awakening Alyn for a feeding. Kael feigned sleep, watching the girl through cracked eyelids, for she had pulled the cape back in the cover of night to watch the child as it nursed in the soft moonlight, obviously unaware that Kael also watched. Though he felt flushed and guilty, he could not help himself and decided he could not blame the tavern master for wanting to keep her, and he absently mused as to how long he might manage to keep her himself.
The Legacy of Skur: Volume One Page 19