by C. C. Wiley
“Sir Nathan,” Baldric called from the doorway. “Wait until you see…” His limping gate slowed.
“What ho, young lord,” Sir Nathan said as he saluted him with the brush. “How does your new ward, the puppy, fare today?”
Relief washed over Meg in waves. Baldric’s admiration for the knight was palpable. It would be good to turn Nathan’s attention in another direction.
“Whitefoot now enjoys a warm bed. But don’t tell my sis—” Baldric’s brow wrinkled. “Meg, I didn’t think to find you in the stables.”
“’Tis good to see you, too, little brother. And what great thing did you have to show Sir Nathan?”
“There you are.” Brother John towered over her brother. “I feared our guest had managed to spirit you away from our time in the chapel.”
“Oh.” Meg blinked, grateful for the monk’s imaginary excuse. His lie may cost her extra time on her knees, but she would do so gladly. “Of course.” She dusted her hands over her skirt.
“Mayhap our young lord will continue the tour.” Brother John folded his hands over his stomach.
“You’ll want to see our tiltyard,” Baldric announced. “They haven’t been used since the Lord of Balforth had his soldiers practice.”
“Perchance, if you take Sir Nathan to the tiltyard he will offer his wisdom regarding the lists,” the monk added. “A lord of the land must know how to protect his land. Should he not?”
The brush Nathan had been stroking over the horse’s chest felt to the floor. His eyes narrowed as he bent to retrieve it. A white line had formed around his firm mouth. Meg could not ignore the tension between the two men.
Ever the one sensitive to those in need, Baldric hobbled over to the knight. “I can show you our armory, instead,” he said, tugging on the knight’s sleeve.
Nathan regarded the small hand. A flush bloomed on his high cheekbones. He bent his knee. “Lady Meg, I look forward to resuming our time together this eve.”
“Mayhap we shall meet again after vespers,” Meg offered.
“Our lady is quite busy this time of year,” Brother John warned. “My Lady Margaret, our Lord in heaven waits for no one.” He lifted her elbow, escorting her from the stables.
Once they neared the chapel, she shook off his grasp. “Cease this at once.”
“I thought to relieve you of his attention,” her father’s longtime friend and confidant said. “There is much to accomplish before darkness falls. How do you intend to deliver when you have a king’s knight underfoot?”
“We will move the ale earlier than planned. Mayhap we start while Baldric leads him through the tiltyard and armory. Fetch Anna and Phillipa. I must speak with them as well.”
“I thought you desired to keep them uninvolved.”
“I fear there is no other way. Together we will fulfill our agreement with the traders.”
Ignoring his chastising frown, she cast a look over her shoulder to search for Sir Nathan. He had had the look of a wounded animal right before they parted ways. She prayed they did not have a repeat from the night before. If only because her willpower to keep from trying to kiss the pain from his haunted expression was weakening.
* * * *
Nathan resisted the urge to follow Meg. Once she and that monk turned the corner he tore his attention from their direction and pointed it onto the boy. “What say you, young Baldric? Lead the way.”
They made their way through the maze of outbuildings. Nathan continued to take note of the thatched roofs crammed close together.
“This,” Baldric said as he unlocked the door with fanfare, “is where most of our weapons are stored.”
Nathan grunted. They were too far away from the main keep. “Where are those who are expected to wield such fine specimens?”
Baldric’s throat lurched as he swallowed. “Sir Vincent DePierce sent them away. He said only his men were loyal to the crown. Our men were not.” He stared at the wall of pikes, poleaxes, and mauls. “Their families still wait for their return. I fear they’re dead.” He bit his lip and shifted the leg that was slightly shorter than the other.
Nathan waited. The silence stretched.
“The villagers. All of us. We fear they will return. And kill us all in our beds. I think that is why my sister Meg walks the paths during the night. To protect us.” He settled his soft blue gaze on Nathan. “’Tis why I need you to train me to fight. Teach me to protect my land. My family.”
“DePierce is dead.”
“I would have liked to have seen that,” he said, his voice bloodthirsty with vengeance.
Nathan squeezed Baldric’s shoulder. “I vow it to be the truth.”
His face wrinkled in doubt. “But there will be more. His next of kin to stake claim of Fletchers Landing. His men.”
“I know that he has no family left.” Nathan shut his eyes. Would the memories awaken and take their vengeance just by thinking of the events at Balforth? He gathered all the strength that he could and gripped his sanity. “His nephew Hugh died by my hand.”
Baldric nodded as he absorbed this news. “Might you still grant me training? There is no one to foster me.” His hand stole over his thigh. “I understand that I’m not fit or strong enough to become a great knight as you.”
Nathan shook his head. “There is nothing wrong with your body that cannot be corrected with the proper training.”
“In truth?” The boy’s grin was a riot of joy and relief. “When can we begin?”
Nathan chuckled at Baldric’s enthusiasm. He rubbed his jaw. He felt better than he had in the months before.
Could he use Baldric’s desire to train in combat to his advantage? Mayhap with the lad’s help he would discover the tunnels, find the king’s lost treasure, and be on his way. Besides, he feared he would indeed go mad without anything to keep his mind busy. And a physically tired body would ease the desire that appeared every time his thoughts drifted to Lady Meg.
“’Tis a man’s game. Are you willing to work?” Nathan asked. “Your muscles will scream for you to stop. To rest. But you cannot.” He stared into Baldric’s determined face. “Not for one breath or someday it might be your last.”
“I understand.”
“Must you gain permission from your sisters? Brother John?”
“One day, when the king returns the land to us, I am to be Lord of Fletchers Landing. I need no permission.”
Nathan knew he should wait to begin their training, but the weapons called to him. His body ached with the need to move his body. “Show me the training fields.”
“’Tis only the ally between the wall and the keep. Near the bailey yard.”
“Then that is where we will begin.” He knelt down before Baldric. “We will return here to fit you with needed sword and shield.”
Crestfallen, Baldric muttered, “’Tis certain nothing will fit me properly. My one leg is too short. At times, it folds under me. I should have never asked it of you.”
“I will not let you give up before we even start. We shall determine what we need. Then see the blacksmith. It will be good to order him to create a sword to suit you.”
“Mayhap I will order him to make one for you too.”
Chuckling at the image of the red-faced blacksmith once he received the commission to make his lord a sword, they strolled toward the tiltyard.
The rusted locked gate was no match for Nathan when he pried it open. They would need to add that to the blacksmith’s growing list. Outrage began to build at the laziness and lack of respect the villagers showed their lord and his lady sisters.
The entrance opened into a courtyard. It might have been used for training in the past but now it held a garden of flowers.
Nathan scratched his head. “Well, lad, it appears we’ve been uprooted from our yard.”
“We won’t be able to train?” Baldri
c kicked at a tuft of white chamomile flowers. “My sisters are forever befouling my plans.”
“Not so fast to anger, my friend. If we are to carry weapons, we must always keep our temper in balance.”
“I suppose so. But this will mean we’ll need to speak to Meg about it. She’s bound to refuse to let me train to fight with you.”
Brother John’s sour face came into Nathan’s view. The monk had a quick mind like a fox. He had to have already suspected Nathan would agree with Baldric’s request. “We will come at her on all flanks with our argument. Think on it as your first lesson in warfare.”
He sighed dramatically. “At least this gives me time to let poor Whitefoot out to the bailey yard.”
“Where are you keeping the poor little beast so that it cannot run freely to use the privy?”
“Nowhere special,” Baldric scraped the toe of his boot across the earth. “Truly.”
“Do you think the pup prefers your bedchamber over the stables?”
“Meg didn’t quite refuse him entrance in the keep. Not really.” The boy puffed his cheeks and wandered the garden, whacking off the heads of defenseless flowers. “Sometimes he needs extra help getting up. I cannot be there if he’s made to stay in the barns. And Cook promised to check on him during the day.”
“You don’t think anyone will hear him cry out? I didn’t see any other hounds in the keep. Inside or out. Why is that do you suppose?”
“Our sister says they cause too much work. But Whitefoot will be different. You’ll see. He’s quite smart. When he is older he’ll offer protection in case we are attacked. You’ll see.”
“I doubt that I will be here when that happens. But I do believe in your conviction.”
“You can’t leave so soon.” Baldric gripped his wrist. “We need you.”
Nathan’s chest ached. His jaws clenched as he worked to clear his throat. “Our king needs me.”
“We all do.”
Nathan rested his back against the stone wall and pulled the journal out of his tunic. He raised it to the sky, trying to locate the matching horizons.
“What have you there?” Baldric asked. He leaned over Nathan’s arm to peer at the drawing on the parchment.
“A puzzle of sorts.”
“Oh, I enjoy puzzles. Shall I help you?”
“I would appreciate it. ’Tis a mystery that has me baffled.” Nathan passed him the journal. The pages fluttered in the breeze causing them to create another drawing hidden within the multiple pages.
“Laid flat it looks a bit like the way bees dance, when they report a field of flowers to their hive,” Baldric observed. He squinted as he held it up to catch the wind again. “But turn the pages quickly and it looks like a map of some sorts. It looks familiar.” He handed it back to Nathan. “Where do you suppose it leads?”
“That is part of the puzzle. We don’t know really where to start. Nor where it ends.”
“I wish my father were still alive. I don’t recall much of him, but I do recall spending time in his private chamber. He had a spyglass that we used to look through. We could see to the other side of the firth.” He sighed. “But that was a long time ago. Perhaps ’tis only my imagination.”
Nathan’s heart thundered in his chest. Was that the chamber he had found the first night he arrived? “Why would your father have a navigator’s glass?”
“He and Brother John traveled the seas when they were younger. ’Tis how they met.”
“Does it still exist?”
“The glass?” He shrugged again. “I wouldn’t know. The room is locked and Meg keeps all the keys on her castellan’s ring.”
Chapter 9
Meg dragged her weary body up the path. It was already dark and past vespers. The smugglers had not received her note for an earlier delivery. They came later than she had hoped. They were becoming unruly and demanded more than what she could provide. If not for Brother John to help move the casks, she would still be down in the cavern arguing over the price that had been set weeks before.
Her stomach growled. She could not recall the last meal she ate. Perhaps she could make her excuses and ask Cook to send something up to her bedchamber.
Closing her eyes, she listened at the door of the solar. Nathan was in the midst of regaling them with an adventurous story when her brother and sisters laughed at something he said.
Her palm rested on the panels. It would be so easy to turn away and hide from his searching looks.
The latch turned. The door swung open. Candlelight swathed the room in golden light. It wrapped a halo around Nathan’s auburn head of curls.
“You’re here! Sir Nathan thought he heard someone scratching at the door,” Anna said as she grabbed her hand and drew her into the solar. “I thought you sent word that your head ached too much to join us this evening.” Anna tipped her head in her direction. “I see that the powder I sent you earlier did the trick.”
“Yes.” Meg touched her palm to her temple. “It did wonders.”
“A miraculous recovery.” Nathan lifted his mug, saluting Anna and Meg.
“I won’t stay long. I wanted to ensure your evening went well. Everyone was well cared for.”
“You must eat sometime,” Nathan said as he led her to a chair.
How did he take command so easily? She started to rise on weakened legs. “I’ve asked Cook to send something up.”
“But Meg,” Baldric draped his arm over the back of her chair. “We’ve so much to discuss.”
“We do?” Meg asked weakly. His cheery face gleamed with anticipation. She could not resist. “And what has you so elated?”
“Sir Nathan and I measured the weapons in the armory. None would fit my hand.”
Meg nodded and rubbed her temple. The fictitious aching head swiftly became a reality. “That is because they were created for a man. Not a boy.”
Baldric jumped up and bounced on his heels. “That is why we made a trip to the blacksmiths. I commissioned Wayland to create a sword that will fit my hand. And it will be the correct size for my height.”
“You ordered him to make you a weapon? Why?”
“Sir Nathan has promised to teach me to fight like a knight.”
“But darling, that will take a great deal of time.” She rose and cupped his small chin. “He will not be staying with us forever.”
How could he? She could not keep up the deception. She had already placed them in jeopardy. Now with him endlessly underfoot, someone would make an error and reveal all their secrets. Her ears began to ring.
“Who’s to say how long my stay will keep me,” Nathan’s voice broke in. “I’ve warned Baldric that I will know when ’tis time to leave. And then I must be gone. But while I’m here, I shall share what I can and train you, brother.”
Scratching came from the other side of the door. “Hurry, my lady Phillipa,” the steward called.
Phillipa ran to open the door. “What is it, Matthew?”
“’Tis the sheep.” He bunched his flannel cap between his hands. “Someone unlocked the pen and set the whole flock loose.”
Phillipa cursed. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Will they not return come morning when feeding time comes?” Meg asked. She leaned upon Nathan’s arm as she joined her sister.
“’Tis the wolves that’ve been prowling the woods of late. I fear there will be casualties come dawn.”
“I vow, if it’s the border reivers I’ll have their ballocks,” Phillipa’s heels clicked on the stone as she raced out of the solar.
“Come now, Phillipa,” Meg called after her. She swallowed the dread slithering up her spine. There had been payment. She smoothed her hair and prayed no one noticed the tremble in her hand. “I fear she spends too much time with the animals and too little time on her manners.”
Anna sidled up next t
o her. “Do you suppose it’s them?” she whispered.
“I think that someone forgot to lock the gate again.” Meg squeezed her fingers and prayed her sister would keep silent about reivers. She put on a brave face and turned to the servant. “Matthew, fetch the others. See that our mounts are saddled and gather the torches.”
“Stay here,” Nathan said, guiding her to the stairway that led to her chamber floor. “Lady Margaret, I will help with the gathering of the flock.”
“No, I must be there.”
“You do no one any good if you make yourself ill.” He kissed her fingers, then opened her palm and placed another kiss in its center. “I will come to your chamber when we have returned and give you my report.”
Meg nodded, too weary to argue. She cupped her hands as if to hold the kiss for a while longer.
Anna joined her by the stairs. “We shall wait together.”
Once they reached Meg’s room, she stood at the window. Watching and waiting for news; for Nathan and Phillipa’s return.
“Sir Nathan will keep her safe,” Anna offered.
Meg stiffened. A light that did not belong winked over the firth. Her nostrils flared. She twisted her hands, wringing out the tension through her fingers. “What if the reivers are caught? Sir Nathan will make demands. Bring forces against them. Peace will be lost.”
“Purchased peace that holds no true promise,” Anna said. “Fragile as the next payment. Ye know this to be true. I’ve told you time and time again.”
“Yes,” Meg ground out. She hated being reminded of what she feared every day. “But it need not be this night.” She spun on her heels and grabbed the cloak off the peg.
“Where do you think to go?” Anna asked. “Sir Nathan said to stay here. That he would send a messenger if there was news.”
“Sir Nathan is not our lord, Anna. And I intend to ensure that he does not discover the caverns. Have you given any thought as to his opinion if he were to discover the smugglers’ cave and the wares that wait for transport?”
She paused at the door. “Wait at the window. I will signal with the lantern if there is concern.”