Warrior's Moon A Love Story

by Jaclyn Hawkes

  Damian didn’t come to for most of a day, but then the next afternoon, he awoke and became positively whiny about how his head hurt and his belly ached. Chantaya wasn’t at all sure why his belly would hurt, but she was inexplicably relieved that he hadn’t been killed by her mother, much as he deserved it. By late that night, Even Lord Rosskeene had resorted to a stiff restorative belt of brandy to deal with his offspring.

  For some reason, Damian woke with a craving for his favorite dish and though Cook offered to try and make it if Chantaya would give her instructions, Chantaya used it as an excuse to get back into the kitchen and try to get things back to normal. She knew it indeed wouldn’t take much to get her mother to pack up and leave and take debtor’s prison over Rosskeene Manor, but Chantaya felt an urgency to try and find out just what Rosskeene and the others were up to.

  The next morning, after breakfast, Cook sent Chantaya in search of the dishes and utensils the physician and the family had used the night before in trying to make Master Damian more comfortable. Damian was finally sleeping soundly from something Isabella had recommended for him and Lord Rosskeene was out of the house for the moment, so Chantaya felt relatively safe in her quest for the soiled dishes.

  She went through the bed chambers and the parlor and was finally in the master’s study and had collected a dishpan full of glassware and cutlery. As she reached for the last brandy glass on the master’s desk, she was puzzled by a map that lay there. It had an obvious X placed upon it and Chantaya rested her dishpan on her hip as she leaned over to study it. She didn’t know much about maps, but she could detect areas that appeared to be city, farmlands, wild lands and even rivers were labeled.

  The X was in the city of Valais, near a river. Also nearby there was an area labeled with a cross. At first she wondered if it was another X, but then felt sure that it was indeed a perpendicular cross mark. At length, not really understanding what she was seeing, she took her load of dishes and went back into the kitchen and handed them over to Cook before starting on the evening’s supper of roast chicken. It wasn’t until the next afternoon that she understood the meaning of the cross.

  Lord Rosskeene had taken two men and cloistered himself in his study and as was her habit, as soon as he did, Chantaya went in to polish the silver and listen to their planning. While she was listening, she heard them speaking of hiding in a ravine when the family went through the river, on the way to the church. The moment she heard the word church, she realized what the cross had meant. The cross was a church! Shaking her head, she actually felt a trifle silly that it hadn’t occurred to her before.

  Going back to listening, she tried to figure out what Lord Rosskeene was talking about. She didn’t understand. She assumed the family meant the royal family, but it made no sense. Why would the king’s family be crossing a river on the way to a church? And who was hiding in a ravine? Surely if Rosskeene knew of someone hiding then it wasn’t someone the king and the knights would know of or want in the ravine. And why would the royals travel out of the castle proper to a church? The king’s church was actually right inside the castle walls, well protected by his own guards.

  A marriage maybe? But there had been no rumor of a royal wedding. Certainly, if there was to be a wedding celebration the royal family would attend it would be planned for some time. There were no new babies in the royal family who would need christening outside the regular church building. Things of that type would be done in the castle church anyway. She polished and listened and was thoroughly confused about what it was Rosskeene was planning and so passionate about.

  When Conrad walked her back to the stable that night, she was still perplexed. And worried. What would make Lord Rosskeene believe he would shortly be made king that would involve the royal family and a church? A church they didn’t normally attend?

  She became even more worried later when Conrad said to her as he was telling her mother good night, “Watch yourself, Miss Chantaya. For some reason the master has some men watching us. Actually, I think he’s got them watching me, or one of the boys. I’m not sure what they’re watching for, but they’re not to be trusted. Don’t you be taking yourself off of a night on one of your wild rides. ‘Twouldn’t be safe. Not by any margin it wouldn’t.”

  Nodding, Chantaya became thoughtful. None of this made sense. Why would Rosskeene have someone watching them? And why a church? It made no sense, but it made her and her mother feel all the more vulnerable.

  When she couldn’t sleep, and knew her mother was tossing and turning as well, she finally spoke out into the darkness to ask, “Mother, why would Lord Rosskeene expect the king’s family to travel outside the castle on the way to a church? They go to church inside the castle. He’s planning something to do with a river crossing near a church. Something soon. Whatever could it be?”

  In a tired voice, her mother asked, “What are you talking about, Chantaya?”

  “I heard Rosskeene and his friends talking about someone hiding in a ravine to do something to the royal family as they traveled to a church. And it was on the map on his desk in his study. It’s a church inside the city, but outside the castle. But there’s a church right inside the castle walls. I saw it just last week.”

  Her mother sat straight up in bed. “Chantaya, don’t you dare try to make another trip to meet Mordecai like that last one! Don’t you dare! Especially not when Conrad has just told you there are frightening men about! Leave this all to the knights. ‘Tis what they’re trained for.”

  Rolling her eyes in the dark where her mother couldn’t see, she replied, “Mother, I’m not going anywhere but to sleep. If I can ever get my mind to shut down. I’m just trying to figure out what he’s up to. But it’s complete nonsense. At least to me.”

  Lying back down, her mother said, “Leave it to the knights, Chantaya. Leave it to Peyton. He’s a wonderful soldier. Now go to sleep.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Chantaya turned onto her side and tried not to be disgusted. How could her mother expect her to ignore both what she was hearing and the urgency in her very bones? Something was going on. Something big was going on. She couldn’t ignore it. She stuffed her pillow into a more comfortable shape and sighed. She really, truly didn’t want to have to make another frightening, lonely, cold, miserable night ride.

  Turning onto her stomach, she opened her eyes to look out the little window at the moon. ‘Twas Peyton’s moon too. Her warrior’s moon. How she wished Peyton was here. Or that she was there. He would know what it all meant and what to do. Why didn’t the king just have the knights capture Lord Rosskeene and be done with it?

  Chapter 20

  The next morning, Conrad came into the kitchen with news that the dowager queen mother had passed away two days earlier and the funeral would be one day hence.

  All the blood rushed to Chantaya’s head! The dowager queen mother! She had been aged, but she had seemed so vital only last week. Suddenly Chantaya realized. It wasn’t a church at all! The cross wasn’t a church! It was a cemetery! They were going to try to kill the king on the way to the cemetery! That was it! ‘Twas the only way to get the royal family outside the castle gates, because there wasn’t room inside the courtyard for a cemetery.

  She glanced around at Conrad and wondered if her mother would figure it out like she just did. Then she looked out the window, wondering where the men were who were watching them? Had Rosskeene figured out she was the one who had taken word to the knights? Or was he simply trying to ensure that no one could get word to the knights that he was about to do something? And how had Rosskeene known that the dowager queen mother would die? She turned back to Conrad and asked, “Pray, what did she die of?”

  He shook his head. “’Tis a mystery to everyone. She took sick the other night after the ball and has gone down hill since then. The physicians have no idea, but they suspect she was somehow poisoned by something. That could just be a guess. She was nearly seventy. That’s ancient for a queen. That’s ancient for anybody.”

  N
odding, Chantaya considered what she knew of herbs and mushrooms. The dowager queen could easily have been poisoned the night of the ball. And then Rosskeene only need wait to hear when the funeral would be. If his attack was set up properly, he might indeed, kill the king and his family while they were grieving her loss.

  She closed her eyes, remembering the sweet elderly royal she had laughed with the night of the ball. Rosskeene was a monster. A veritable monster. How in the world was she going to get past whoever Rosskeene had watching? How was she going to get past her own mother?

  Chantaya tried to appear completely calm as she went about making the breakfast. Word had to get out to the castle, but it was more complicated this time. Not that the other two trips hadn’t been difficult, but this time there were those watching and her mother. How could she get safely away?

  She sifted through one idea in her head after another, only to discard them in the same fashion. She needed to wait for darkness, but that would be wasting precious time and the watching men would probably be far more attentive to someone leaving after dark. She could leave sooner, but anyone could see her go and she would be missed within a short time. And how would she get a horse out? In the dark or the light? Her mother would suspect instantly if she heard a horse moving.

  The noon day meal was over and cleaned up before Chantaya finally came to the conclusion that she simply had to do something. She had to try. She couldn’t not. There was too much at stake. Far too much. The kingdom would crumble under the rule of a monster such as Rosskeene.

  With that thought in mind, she prayed for a solution the whole way from the manor house to the stable in the early afternoon. As she finished, just before she entered the big stable door, she looked up to realize there were horses in the far pasture along the bluff.

  That was it! She’d have no saddle, but she’d tell her mother she was going after some spearmint for the night’s dessert and she’d simply not come back. 'Twould give her enough time to at least get past the guards, if she could.

  Her mother napped on their bed as she entered their room and Chantaya breathed in deeply as she pulled their biggest basket down. She filled it with the bread and cheese she had brought from the kitchen, and then knelt to retrieve her boy’s clothing and Mordecai’s wife’s sword from under the very bed her mother slept on. For the time being, she’d have to conceal the sword down the back of her skirt as she wandered into the wood. Stuffing the clothing into the basket, she glanced at the sky out the window. At least it wasn’t raining buckets this time. There was no way she was going anywhere this time without a heavy cloak.

  Leaving a note for her mother that said simply, “Gone to the wood for spearmint. And some other things,” she blew her mother a silent kiss, followed it with a silent prayer and ducked out the door of the stable. She dearly hoped Conrad had left the halters he had used to take those horses out on the gate post as he typically did.

  SSSS

  The short, blonde man with the ragged goatee had been watching for the girl to come back with her basket for better than an hour before he decided to get up from where he and his cousin Ned were sitting under the trees gambling. Several times, she had gone with her basket to the woods, and he truly didn’t think for a moment that a girl, especially one that beautiful would be the person who had gotten word out to the soldiers of their activities, but Rosskeene had been adamant that no one was to leave the manor without his permission.

  She hadn’t truly left the manor anyway. Just taken her basket and gone into the wood there the way she always did. But she was not usually alone and she typically reappeared after an hour or two. This time, she had been gone for almost three and hadn’t shown up yet.

  He got up and began to meander that way. This was the easiest money he’d ever made. Sitting in the shade gambling and drinking. He won some too. Ned had never been an overly skilled gambler. Twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of the girl and he went back and kicked Ned where he lounged, sleeping off the ale they’d been sharing. “Get up. Come help me. That girl took off down here three hours ago and she haint come back. Somethin’s wrong. Come look with me.”

  Grumbling sleepily, Ned got up. He scrubbed at his week’s growth of beard, yawned widely, snapped his suspenders into place and followed into the woodland. His breath near caused the blonde man to gag. That brown ale tended to sour on you if you didn’t eat something with it. What time was it anyway? It ought to be getting near to supper time.

  They wandered through the trees and scrub brush on the lip of the stream bottom for another half hour and then walked back to the kitchen to pick up the food Rosskeene’s cook had left for them. Going to their post, they ate it and then walked back into the woods again. Maybe the girl had come back another way or something. If they didn’t find her in the next while, they’d go back and ask her mother where she was. She had to be around here somewhere.

  SSSS

  Cook emerged from the kitchen garden door and looked around the deserted yards of Rosskeene Manor in complete perplexion. What under heaven was going on around here this even? This morning the place had been fair bustling, but tonight, the whole manor was deserted. That had happened before, but never without the master or mistress planning well in advance for it.

  The Lord and Lady and young master had packed up in a whirlwind and gone flying out with several of their staff with them. True, the death of the dowager queen wasn’t something that could be planned for, but where in the world had even Isabella and Chantaya and Conrad gotten to? Never had Cook known them to not show up. Especially when, to her knowledge, they didn’t know the Lord and Lady were going to be gone tonight.

  She walked over to the stable, shaking her head. Empty. Isabella and Chantaya’s door wasn’t even shut securely. She peeked in and noticed a beautiful blue satin gown tossed across the bed and couldn’t help herself entering and fingering the fine fabric as she wondered why it was there. ‘Twas far too fancy a gown for a scullery maid to possess. She stepped back out, closed the door firmly and looked out the big barn doors. Even the shady characters that Lord Rosskeene had had hanging around here making the rest of the staff nervous had taken off at a high gallop an hour or two ago. What under heaven was going on?

  SSSS

  Chantaya was well more than half way to Mordecai’s when she heard the sound of galloping horses coming on the trail behind her. She would have been further, but the horse she’d taken from the pasture was being ornery and jumpy and she’d had to fight it to even make it that far. Without a saddle or spurs, she’d been hard put just to stay aboard at times. At the sound of riders, she turned off the trail into the woods beside it to ride far into the trees. It was unbelievably nicer to ride in the daylight, but it made concealment much harder.

  She looked at the woods around her and the shapes of the surrounding hills and then veered left, deciding to simply try to make it to Mordecai’s cross country. It would be much more rugged, but she hoped she could find her way without returning to the road again. By now, at least her mother and Conrad knew where she’d gone. Whether the men watching had found out was a guess, but the sounds of those running horses had to mean something.

  She’d made it all the way to within a mile of Mordecai’s when a nighthawk flew up in the gloom of dusk and spooked her horse out from under her. She felt herself falling and tried desperately to hang on to the reins, knowing she’d never be able to catch this half wild steed if it got away from her. She kept the reins, but got a rope burn on her hands to show for it and grimaced in pain as she pulled the stupid thing over to a fallen log to get back on. So much for her believing she could ride anything with hair. This one trip on this mindless beast had near taken the adventure right out of horses for her. Not having a saddle made staying on ten times harder.

  Finally, she topped the ridge above Mordecai’s small stone house and breathed a huge breath of relief. She’d made it. She’d made it with no sword fights, rain storms, or inky black darkness and she couldn’t even believ
e what a relief she felt.

  Bartok neighed from his pen and just as Chantaya felt the horse under her take in air to neigh back, from somewhere behind Mordecai’s cottage, another horse neighed. It made her pull her own horse up so shortly that it didn’t neigh at all and she nearly went off a second time.

  Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. There shouldn’t have been a horse behind Mordecai’s house. At the very least, the savvy old knight would have come out on to the porch to see who was approaching. 'Twas his way. Never had she come to his home that he hadn’t come out to greet her. Something was wrong.

  She pulled her horse into the thickest woods she could find and tied it securely. Then, in the gathering gloom of dusk, she slipped closer to Mordecai’s house on foot. Maybe he just had a cold again. Maybe he had stepped out somewhere for a few moments. Maybe . . .

  Her heart sank into her belly with a thud when she realized someone had started a fire in Mordecai’s fireplace and smoke was beginning to rise from the chimney. Mordecai was home. Something was definitely wrong.

  Sneaking closer, she found two horses behind the house and glimpsed a man through the window in the firelight and her heart sank further. ‘Twas one of the men who hung around Lord Rosskeene. She backed up into the trees and knelt down, wondering how they had known to go straight to Mordecai’s. She was heart sick to realize the help she had hoped to receive from the old knight had just wafted away into the night air like the smoke rising from his chimney. Looking around in the darkness, she tried to figure out what direction she needed to go to reach Valais. Panic threatened when she admitted to herself that she wasn’t even sure exactly how to get there and that she wouldn’t be able to go to Peyton’s parents for directions. The men watching would no doubt be watching the village as well.