Warrior's Moon A Love Story

by Jaclyn Hawkes

  Neither of the Rosskeenes said anything, although Lord Rosskeene was eyeing Isabella disgustingly and young Damian had a positively lecherous grin as Chantaya looked up at him. Just as Chantaya began to wonder how she was going to reach the dishes stacked on a table near them, Conrad came in the door whistling cheerily and said, “The boys said Cook is under t’ scuppers and that ye might be needin’ a spare hand. Be this true? I’ve a moment to help ye, if 'tis.”

  He picked up a stack of the dishes and brought them across to Isabella and then picked up a dish towel and began to tie it about his waist as both women simultaneously let out breaths. With his makeshift apron in place, he reached across to take the rolling pin from Isabella and asked breezily, “What be needin’ rolling, Mistress Isabella? I’ll give it a go, I will. I’ll flatten anything in my path.” He smacked the big wooden pin against a meaty palm with a grin and Chantaya almost wanted to smile herself as the two Rosskeenes walked back out of the kitchen.

  Chapter 11

  Mordecai pulled his horse Bartok, with the wild splash of white across his shoulder, to a stop in the copse of trees to the south of Rosskeene Manor and got off, leaving him ground tied. On foot, he walked to the edge of the wood to peer out into the gloom of the predawn. Willem Wolfgar had said he’d seen them safely here, but that had been nearly a fortnight ago.

  When a week had gone by without Chantaya showing up to visit, Mordecai had been saddened. But by the tenth day, Mordecai knew something was wrong. Chantaya hadn’t stayed away from his home for that long since he’d moved there when she was nine.

  On the eleventh day, he’d gone to the cottage and upon finding it empty, he’d gone on to the Wolfgar’s to learn of Chantaya and Isabella’s fate, and then felt guilty for waiting so long to find out why she hadn’t come to visit. The thought of the two of them at the mercy of the young Lord Rosskeene had made him near sick. It made him want to strap his armor on and go bring them right back home, without waiting to hear from the magistrate, who was known for his lackadaisical work ethic when it came to matters of the law.

  Mordecai stood in the wood, watching the manor house, knowing that if they were indeed working in the manor kitchen, they would soon be stirring to begin the household’s breakfast. He knew nothing of the configuration of the manor house, but assumed that door just near the garden he could see, would lead to the kitchen. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of someone at least tossing out dishwater before he ventured any nearer to try and ascertain how Chantaya and Isabella were doing.

  He hadn’t been watching for more than half the hour when, actually, Chantaya herself appeared, but out of the building he had assumed was the stable. She was accompanied by an able enough looking middle aged man who wasn’t Rosskeene, and together they walked to the door near the garden, where the man left her and turned back toward the building they had come out of.

  Staying concealed on the edge of the trees, Mordecai watched and mid morning, the same man walked back to the kitchen door and returned with Chantaya. Then a few minutes later, both Chantaya and her mother appeared with baskets and walked toward the same woods Mordecai waited in, as the man came out of the stable on a young horse and rode near them.

  At first, Mordecai thought the man must have been guarding them to see to it the two of them didn’t try to run away, but as the three of them came closer, he wondered at the easy demeanor of the two women. They didn’t appear to be anxious whenever the horseman rode near. In fact, the opposite seemed to be true. When the horseman rode wide from them, their glances toward the manor house did look to hold a measure of wariness. Finally, when the horseman stopped to speak to them only a stone’s throw from where Mordecai hid, he realized this man, whoever he was, was actually watching over the two of them as they worked and he rode.

  Chantaya went back to the kitchen before the noon hour and then again in mid afternoon. Toward evening, after Chantaya had returned from the manor house, the same man came riding out of the stable, this time with another smaller man on another horse beside him and Mordecai was surprised because the boys who had been working in and around the stables for the day had all appeared to go into the manor house before the supper hour. This new rider must have been inside the stable for the whole of the day, because he wasn’t one Mordecai had seen earlier.

  Mordecai watched the two of them schooling the young horses in the meadows behind the manor and then, finally, he began to smile. Chantaya was up to her old tricks again and more. She may have been forced away against her will to work for a corrupt Lord, but that was his sweet, young friend out there, dressed in boys’ clothing, working that spirited horse. Mordecai could tell just by the way she rode. There wasn’t another who sat a horse so gracefully that he’d ever known.

  After breathing a sigh of relief at finding the two of them were all right and even seemed to have found some security of sorts here at this corrupt man’s holdings, he began to work his way closer to where she was schooling her horse. He needed to speak to her, without frightening her, if possible. He needed to know if they were indeed all right and what he could do to help them get home as quickly and safely as they could. For their sakes, and for Peyton’s.

  SSSS

  Chantaya’s mount had been going well under saddle for her, so she knew something was amiss in the nearby wood when her horse suddenly began to want to spook every time she rode near the edge of the small copse of trees. Just when she had decided she would turn and ride on the other side of Conrad from the woods, she glanced left to see Mordecai step from beside a tree long enough to let her see him and then step right back out of sight before Conrad saw him.

  She subtly lifted a hand, then rode to Conrad and told him she was going to take a short break in the woods. She turned back toward where she’d seen Mordecai and rode her horse full into the woods where the waning sunlight was quite dim and dismounted and tied the horse to a sturdy limb.

  As she turned, Mordecai stepped from the trees near her and she gave a small, whispered squeal as she ran to him to wrap her arms round him in a hug. Feeling suddenly ridiculously emotional, she wiped at the moisture in her eyes as she said, “Mordecai! Oh, Mordecai, I have missed you!”

  The gray haired man nodded. “'Tis that I’ve missed your smile, myself, Miss Chantaya. I’ve come to see what’s to be done about bringing you home. Other than the fact you’re nigh a boy now, are you well?”

  “Yes. As well as can be expected under the circumstances.” She gave him a heart broken smile. “I’m so sorry we left without saying goodbye. They were watching us, so we didn’t dare come to tell you. And we’re not sure what’s to be done about coming home. The magistrate has been delayed and now that we’re here, we’ve been hearing so much gossip about how Lord Rosskeene is gathering his own military forces that we have wondered if us being here isn’t fortuitous. No one here knows we have any friends close to the knights. They speak as if we aren’t even there sometimes and we’re hearing the most frightening tidbits. Enough that we are actually grateful to be here if it means we can find a way to warn the soldiers. We felt it best not to write to you or even Peyton, yet. It sounds crazy, but we’re truly wondering if Rosskeene is preparing to go against King Dougal.”

  Mordecai scowled. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a scoundrel of the lowest sort.”

  Looking around, Chantaya said, “I’ve only a moment, before Conrad will miss me, although I believe he is to be trusted. He’s become a fair guardian to Mother and me. But I would still like to keep the fact we have knights for friends a secret. The two younger Rosskeene men are horrible and maybe our being here can do some good. Maybe we can find out enough to get the king to take Rosskeene’s holdings away and banish him and free his people from his poor treatment. Would he ever do that if he found there were plans to overthrow the crown?”

  “That and more. Rosskeene could be hung for treason. But ’tis not your problem. You and your mother aren’t safe here and must be protected. Rosskeene has a terrible reputation for
abusing his people. Especially the women.”

  “The magistrate will rule for us soon enough to protect us. But you yourself have said many times there are more important things than personal safety. I’ve heard you.”

  Mordecai shook his head. “No Chantaya. Leave it to the knights. Your mother isn’t well and you’re but a maid. The danger is too great. What’s more, Peyton would be horrified. He already will be when I tell him of your leaving.”

  From the meadow, Conrad called. Chantaya answered him and then turned back to Mordecai. “I must go. There’s nothing to be done for the time being, Mordecai. We’re stuck here at Rosskeene’s mercy just now anyway. I won’t do anything foolish, but I won’t ignore what I hear either. I’ve been writing it down so I can remember it correctly. If you get a chance, please tell someone who has the power to do something about it, that Rosskeene has been gathering malcontents for his own purposes. Purposes that are rumored to threaten the king.”

  He nodded and she wrapped her arms back around his waist. “I love you, Mordecai. Thank you for coming to check on us. We’re all right, so far. Pray that we will continue to be. The staff here is good to protect us, and we’re careful to stay together and with others if possible. God willing, we’ll be home shortly, and maybe in the interim we can be of help to the crown.” Conrad called again and Chantaya let go and went back to her horse, saying over her shoulder, “I must go. If you get word to Peyton, please tell him I love him. Tell him I keep his letter with me all of the time, next to my heart. Goodbye.”

  As she galloped her horse back through the trees toward the meadow, Mordecai watched her go, wondering how in the world he was going to break this news to Peyton and how Peyton would take it when he wasn’t in a position to be able to do much about it.

  When he got back to Navarre in the depth of the night, he put Bartok away and then went inside to light a fire and warm himself from the coolness of his night ride. He would rest tomorrow and then leave the next morning to go to Peyton in Valais. Peyton would be crushed, but he needed to know what had happened here.

  Although it had merely been a routine circuit round the kingdom of Monciere as a reconnaissance trip and a show of military presence, Peyton felt incredibly proud as he rode beside the other fifteen knights and Prince Laird as they left their final scheduled stop before returning to Valais. ‘Twas only late morning and as they came through the junction known as the Crossroads, Peyton looked west toward Navarre, remembering that day Chantaya had climbed to the roof of the village church. She’d been able to see clear to here, there high on the roof with her curls and petticoats blowing. She’d been so happy about that little adventure up the tallest ladder.

  He pulled his horse in and paused for the slightest second, looking down the road toward his childhood home and sweetheart. How he missed her! She was just there a few miles down that track. Seeing the prince glance back, he swallowed a sigh and kicked his horse to catch back up to the others. It had only been a few weeks, but it felt like forever since he’d seen her.

  Surprisingly, the prince halted the entire entourage at the next inn they came to for a round of cider before continuing on their way. Peyton was still thinking of Chantaya as they all dismounted and he paused, fiddling with his horse’s girth, wishing for a quiet moment to himself to remember.

  The others had gone inside, when the prince himself returned to the horses and coming close to Peyton, said, “I’ve a request, Sir Peyton, that I’m hoping you won’t deny me. “

  Peyton smiled at this young nobleman who had become a surprisingly good friend over the last weeks. “Anything in my power, Sire. I will grant it or die trying.”

  Nodding, Prince Laird returned his smile. “After coming to know you, Sir Peyton, I believe that to be true. Yet, hopefully, this request won’t come at the cost of your life. I wish you to return home and bring me any news of what Lord Rosskeene has been up to. You grew up not far from here, did you not?”

  Peyton looked west again and replied, “Just there, Sire. But a few miles. I would bring you news of Rosskeene, and gladly.”

  The prince turned back for the door of the inn, then paused and looked back at Peyton with a grin. “Perhaps you could inquire of your parents as well as the brunette who turned out too lovely to be considered a sister. It just may be she has some knowledge of Rosskeene we can’t do without.”

  “Indeed, it may. Thank you, Sire. I appreciate this request more than you can imagine.”

  The prince raised his eyebrows. “You could be right. I’ve yet to meet any girl who could bring the light to my eyes that mere mention of her brings to yours. I only hope someday to find one. Enjoy yourself. Just see to it you’re back in Valais by the morrow. The king has need of such as you.” With that, the prince walked back into the door of the inn and Peyton retightened the girth he had just loosened and sprang into the saddle. It may be only for the afternoon, but he was going home.

  SSSS

  He looked into the empty cottage all but sick with disappointment and concern. The leaves and dust that had blown into the door that stood ajar and piled into the corner made Peyton feel like he’d swallowed a luncheon of rocks. Not only was she not here, but it was obvious she hadn’t been here in some time. Glancing back down the road toward his parents’ home he’d just ridden right past a few minutes ago, he shook his head, pulled the door tightly closed, turned back to his horse and spurred it for Mordecai’s. It was further, but only marginally and he had a hunch Mordecai would know more about why Chantaya and Isabella were gone than anyone.

  The old man was sitting on the porch, seemingly waiting for him as he galloped over the hill and Mordecai stood as Peyton slid his charger to a stop before him. He didn’t even have to ask. Mordecai just said, “Rosskeene took them. He saw Chantaya at the tavern and knew she had to be Isabella’s daughter. They tried, but he gave them little choice. Told Isabella she either went to work for him for supposed back rents she owed on her cottage or he’d throw her into debtor’s prison. Chantaya went with her, of course. I didn’t know myself until night before last. I went to Rosskeene’s yesterday to check on them. They seem to be well. More beautiful than ever. I was going to come tomorrow and tell you. Forgive me for not being up to it today.”

  Peyton simply shook his head for a time as he tried to take it in. Finally, he asked, “They’ve been to the magistrate? What did he say?”

  “Nothing yet. But then he’s known for dragging his feet and trying not to ruffle any nobleman’s feathers. But that’s not the worst of it. Chantaya has been hearing rumors of Rosskeene intending to overthrow the crown.” He shook his own head. “Trouble’s brewing. We’ve known that. What we didn’t know was that your wonderful, sweet, beautiful, stubborn girl would get caught in the middle of it. They’re in danger and it’s well they know it, but she has gotten it into her head that she can help you and the king by staying there and gathering information.”

  Peyton almost roared, “No!” He looked straight up and took a huge breath and said more calmly, “Surely she knows what Rosskeene is capable of? Of his reputation with women? How can she even consider staying there?”

  Mordecai answered evenly, “I doubt she truly knows that at all, Sir Peyton. Isabella has made sure to keep her safe all these years, yes. But you know as well as I do Isabella wouldn’t have ever told her just what Rosskeene was truly capable of. Isabella would have hoped to let her keep her innocence unless she absolutely had to tell her. We all would. What kind of people would we be if we didn’t try to protect Chantaya’s sweet spirit?”

  Peyton closed his eyes for a moment, hating to face either the scenario that Chantaya had been harmed or that she had lost that sweet, intrepid sense of innocence. At length, he sighed and said, “And knowing Chani, she would still do what she thought was important, like spy for the king, even if she knew ‘twas dangerous.”

  Mordecai added, “If she thought it truly important.” He paused for a moment and then continued, “And Peyton, she may be right. As
hateful as the idea is.”

  Peyton’s eyes narrowed. “You would risk a young woman’s life and much more for information? It’s a matter for soldiers, not girls!”

  With the wisdom of ages, Mordecai asked, “How many young women’s lives and much more would be sacrificed, were Rosskeene to overthrow the kingdom? And what soldier is in a position to overhear what she is? They all think she is an exquisite scullery maid without a brain in her head. You know that’s what most believe of one with her extraordinary beauty.” He finally smiled. “Even you and I forget how incredibly bright she is when she turns on her charm.”

  Rolling his eyes, Peyton admitted, “She definitely does know how to get what she wants. I’ll give her that. But she can’t stay there. Isabella can’t either. She’s already been through too much. You weren’t here, but the baby she lost when first they came to Navarre had white blond hair. And Chantaya’s father’s hair was as dark as Chantaya’s. I didn’t realize it at the time, being nine years old, but since then I’ve realized Isabella and a black haired husband didn’t produce a child that fair. Rosskeene had to have been the reason the Kincraigs left in the dead of night in the first place. To protect Isabella.”

  Mordecai shook his head. “Well, short of stealing them away in the dead of night again, until the magistrate rules in their favor, they are at Rosskeene’s mercy. Crossing a nobleman isn’t done. Even a scallywag like Rosskeene. Although there is a positively brawny groom who has taken them under his wing. He’s fair guarding them from the looks of things.”