Autumn's Touch

by Elizabeth Rose

  “Hmph,” she sniffed. “If you are the mighty Ravenscar that knows all, then you should know how to heal yourself as well. Instead, you abduct me, expecting me to cure you just because you order me to do it.”

  “Do it!” he said. “I’m dying.”

  “Then so be it.” She yanked her arm away. His fingers slipped from her wrist and his hand fell to his side. He was tired, so very tired. Every part of his body ached and his head throbbed. He was icy cold and burning up at the same time. The raised spots on his skin were getting larger. All he wanted to do was to be healed . . . or die.

  Autumn hurried to the door, her wet cloak dragging in the rushes of the floor as she ran from Ravenscar. She had wanted to help the man, but she wouldn’t be forced or frightened into healing anyone who was naught but a domineering, demanding beast! She made it to the door and had her hand on the latch when, from behind her, she heard his soft voice call out for her.

  “Autumn,” he pleaded from the dark. “Please, don’t leave me. I need you. Will you . . . heal me?”

  Her heart jumped into her throat and she let out a deep sigh. He’d called her by her Christian name, not using her title. To speak so familiar was only done in secrecy by lovers. He’d also all but begged her to help him this time, instead of ordering her to do it. Never could she walk away from someone who was asking for her help instead of demanding it. Her fingers slid off the door latch and she spoke without turning around.

  “All you had to do was ask.” She turned around and headed back to the bed. When she got there, his eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving. The fever was taking its toll. She wasn’t even sure he didn’t have an infection. It wasn’t the plague or leprosy as he thought, that much she knew. It looked to be boils or hives of some sort, possibly brought on by something he’d touched or eaten. That could be cured easily with herbs over time, but his raging fever was what worried her. She had to work fast if she wanted to save him. There was no time to go back to the ship for her pouch of herbs, or even to take the time to search the kitchen for what she needed.

  Nay, she would do as he’d asked. She would use her healing touch to cure him. It was the only thing that could possibly break the fever and keep him from falling into an unconscious state - if it wasn’t already too late.

  She removed her wet cloak and laid it over his half-naked body, trying to help quench the fires that burned within him. Then she took one hand and placed it on his forehead while she laid her other hand on his chest. She felt the tingling sensation in her hands immediately, just like she’d felt when the lightning first struck her. She closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to use her mind to pull the fever from his body and send it away.

  He moaned and his legs jerked as he tossed and turned on the bed under her touch. Something was happening, and she only hoped she could heal him before he died. With her eyes closed, she ran her hands over his skin, gently caressing him, thinking about naught but the fact she was a healer and that he was a man who needed her help.

  It was taking longer than it had taken to help the men at Mablethorpe. She was starting to doubt her abilities when, all of a sudden, he gasped for air and shot up to a sitting position in the bed.

  “You – you did it,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “You – the fever is broken, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. Let me see.” She held her hand to his forehead and smiled. The forces of nature had worked through her once more and helped to heal an ailing man. “Yes, your fever is broken. And as for the hives – I think it is a reaction to something. Possibly something in this room,” she said looking around in the dark. “I suggest you switch solars and have your healer treat you with herbs in the morning. Your condition should be back to normal in a few days.”

  She stood up and put her wet cloak around her shoulders and headed for the door. “Good evening, Lord Ravenscar.”

  “Wait! Where are you going?” he asked.

  “I’ve healed your fever and now I’m going back to my ship. There are people there who will be looking for me.” She no sooner had the door open than he shot across the room, reached over her shoulder and slammed the door shut.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Healer. You are mine now and you will stay at Ravenscar Castle as my personal healer since I don’t have one at the moment. You will be my healer from this day on.”

  “I’m not living at Ravenscar Castle. This is not my home.”

  “It is now,” he said, looking at her as if he were challenging her to try to leave.

  Autumn’s blood froze in her veins. Suddenly, her good deed seemed like naught more than the final nail in her coffin. Why had she helped the man when he would now keep her as his prisoner? She’d helped someone in need and now she would now pay for it for the rest of her life!

  Chapter 7

  “Take the girl to the north tower and lock her inside,” Benedict told Oxley. Having clothed himself, Benedict stood in the corridor with his hand on Autumn’s shoulder. There was no way he was going to let her go before he knew he was totally healed. He’d come close to dying tonight and wasn’t sure if he’d start feeling better now or if he’d want to kill himself again come morning. With no healer wanting to come anywhere near his castle, he was lucky to have found her and wasn’t willing to lose her. Nay, he wouldn’t release her until he was finished with her.

  “Aye, my lord,” said Oxley, gripping the girl hard on the arm and hauling her away. Nelek came to his side, watching as they left.

  “Who is she, my lord?” asked his squire. “She is very comely.”

  “Lady Autumn is the girl I saw days ago passing by on the ship in the fog. I think she is a fae to have been able to break my fever so quickly.”

  “Oh, I see. She’s a witch,” said Nelek with the nod of his head. “So, you’ll probably want to burn her at the stake after she’s done healing you.”

  “Why in the devil’s name would you say that?” asked Benedict, rubbing a weary hand over his face and yawning. He felt drained of all energy and totally exhausted.

  “Because that is what the late Lord Ravenscar would have done. Now that you’ve assumed his identity, you’re fulfilling his position in every way.”

  “Nay, I’m not. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned to head back into his room but stopped in his tracks upon hearing Nelek’s next words.

  “You put a child in the stocks,” his squire reminded him. “And you also made the youngsters shovel out the gongpit!” Nelek shivered and made a face when he said it.

  “I had to do something,” retorted Benedict in his defense. “The boy was trying to steal from my liege lord. He’s lucky his hand wasn’t cut off as punishment. If I had let Oxley have his way, that’s what would have happened. And if the late Lord Ravenscar were still alive, he probably would have beheaded the boy since he’s just a servant. Don’t you see I did them a favor?”

  “I suppose I never looked at it that way, my lord.” Nelek crossed his arms over his chest and raised one hand to his chin in thought. “So, what will you do with Lady Autumn? Will you put her in the stocks, too, or make her shovel out the gongpit instead?”

  “Neither. She’s a noble. And a healer.” He dragged a hand through his hair in thought. The fever was gone, but his head still throbbed. He couldn’t think straight. “Bring me ale and lots of it. I need to think about all this, but I cannot do it without a clear head.”

  “Aye, my lord,” said Nelek, running off to the buttery to get him ale. Benedict turned and entered the room, then thought about what the girl said. Perhaps there was something in the room that was causing his illness. He should never have taken over his liege lord’s solar until he was sure the illness wasn’t lingering in the room. How careless of him to do such a thing, letting his eagerness of being lord of Ravenscar cloud his judgment.

  He turned and left the room, heading for the battlements to get some air. The rain had stopped, so he wanted to take a look at the ship that had docked i
n his harbor. He would have a perfect view from atop the battlements. If it was the same ship he’d seen days ago, perhaps he could confiscate it as his own. All Ravenscar had left him was one broken-down vessel that wasn’t even seaworthy. The man must have known he was going to die since he sold off his ships months ago. He never did tell Benedict what he did with the money.

  He made his way slowly through the courtyard, stopping twice when a coughing fit overtook him. Then he went up to the battlements to get a glimpse of the ship that had docked.

  “My lord,” said his steward and best knight, Sir Gawain. “What brings you from your sick bed up to the battlements? Surely this isn’t the place to be if you’re not feeling well.”

  “My fever is gone, Sir Gawain,” he told him, liking the feel of the wind against his face. “The healer cured me of it, but she’s yet to heal me of these hives.” He scratched his arm as he said it. Sir Gawain took a step backward. “I am here to fill my lungs with fresh air and get a glimpse of the ship that docked in my harbor.”

  “Will we be attacking and pillaging the ship, my lord?” asked Gawain.

  It was what the old Ravenscar would have had them do. Benedict almost said yes, then decided he didn’t need to follow the man’s every step. By attacking the ship, they would make enemies. He knew Lord Scarborough was very wealthy and had a strong army. He might rebel, and Benedict couldn’t have that. Not now. He was still weak and not fit for a battle.

  “Nay, we’ll keep an eye on the ship for now, that’s all.”

  “What if they come for the girl, my lord? Then we’ll attack?”

  Damn, he hadn’t considered that. They were sure to notice she was missing. The first place they’d check for her would be his castle. It looked like he would be forced to make a decision after all.

  “Send a messenger down to the ship in the morning. Tell them Lady Autumn has decided to stay at Ravenscar Castle as my new healer.”

  “They’ll surely not believe that, my lord.” Sir Gawain shook his head at the idea.

  “Nay, I suppose you’re right. Instead, have the scribe write up a missive. Make it look like Lady Autumn wrote it. Have it say the plague is inside the castle walls and they should not venture any further - for their own safety. That will keep them out.”

  “But no one but the late Lord Ravenscar had the plague, my lord.”

  “Aye, but they don’t need to know that.”

  “Are you sure he really had the plague?” questioned the man. “After all, no one else contracted it. Not even you – and you slept in his bed!”

  Benedict cursed himself inwardly, once again realizing his mistake. He’d told everyone the late Lord Ravenscar died of the plague. He’d even burned the man’s body. He should have made it look believable by burning the man’s bed as well. But he’d been consumed with his new position and had made poor choices. He’d started feeling ill right afterward, and hadn’t been able to think with a clear head since that day. “Don’t question me again, Sir Gawain,” he warned.

  “Aye, my lord. My apologies,” said Sir Gawain with a nod of his head. “I’ll take care of the missive anon.”

  “Good,” he said, feeling so tired and itchy that all he wanted to do was sleep. The wind whipped against his body, making him feel chilled. He’d taken the time to clothe himself but didn’t wear a cloak. He would have one quick look at the docks and then head back to the south tower and stay there until he could clean out the solar of whatever might be causing his illness.

  Autumn banged her fist against the locked door of her tower room, over and over again. “I demand you let me out of here right now!” It was no use. The guard was gone and no one would even hear her. She was a prisoner of Ravenscar now. She could do nothing about it. All the horrible stories she’d heard about the man were true. Since she was his prisoner, that most likely meant that, eventually, he would make her his lover.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, pacing back and forth in the room lit only by one smelly tallow candle. She picked up the candle made from animal fat and used it to take a closer look around the chamber.

  There was a pallet on the ground with one blanket and one pillow. It was old and torn, and she wouldn’t be surprised if vermin lived within it. The wooden planks of the floor were void of rushes of any kind. There was a washbasin on a small table in the corner, but it held no water. It was cracked and looked as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Below it was a dusty chamber pot. She spied a trunk pushed up against the wall and walked over to survey it.

  Holding the candle closer, she opened the trunk and peered inside. To her surprise, it held several gowns that looked like they once belonged to a noblewoman. They were amazingly clean and packed with dried rosemary and her favorite, lavender, to keep them smelling fresh. Several pairs of soft slippers were underneath and also a long cloak. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage.

  She closed the trunk and continued to look around the room, seeing naught much else except an old chair and a cold hearth without a fire. If she got too cold, she decided she would break up the chair and burn it to keep warm.

  Hearing voices outside, she hurried to the window to look out. She gripped the bars that covered the window, testing the strength. She had hoped to be able to escape by tying the clothes together and lowering herself into the moat. Nay, that wouldn’t work. The bars were secure and wouldn’t even wiggle.

  Through the window, she had a good view of the battlements below her. To her surprise, she saw Ravenscar looking out to the sea. The rain had stopped and the sky cleared. She could see down the cliffs to the ship as well. Come daylight, perhaps she could shout out the window and someone on the ship would hear her. Hadn’t they noticed she’d gone missing yet? Nay, she decided. They thought she was sleeping in the cabin. Nairnie was sound asleep and wouldn’t even discover her missing until morning. She sighed. It was crucial to find a way to escape tonight.

  The mysterious Lord Ravenscar took her interest. His tall frame was illuminated by the moonlight as he leaned on the ramparts. Wind whipped through his long hair, lifting it up in the air around him. Then he reached upward with two strong arms pushing his hair back and gathering it into a queue behind his head. While hatred for her captor filled her body, she oddly found herself mesmerized and intrigued by the man at the same time. She couldn’t stop thinking how his naked chest felt under her palms as she’d healed him of his fever. He was handsome, even with that long scar across his face. Next, she found herself wondering how it got there. Could it perhaps be from one of his raids, or mayhap part of the reason he was so nasty?

  As if he sensed her eyes upon him, he turned his face upward to the tower window. She ducked back out of sight, not wanting the beast to know she watched him. Fatigue wracked her body, as healing the man of his high fever seemed to have taken all her energy. She decided to wait until first light and then get a better look around the room for a way to escape. Right now, she needed to sleep.

  With no other choice, she spread out the blanket over the old pallet and blew out the candle. Then she laid back and closed her eyes. She hadn’t felt tired lately since her bout with the lightning but, for some reason, being here made her feel as if she needed to rest. After all, she wanted to conserve her energy since she might need every bit of it to fight off the beast.

  After dozing off for a little while, she was suddenly awoken by a strange sound. Her eyes popped open and her heart raced. Was it Ravenscar coming to take her in the night? Would she lose her virginity to a man who thought taking a young woman’s maidenhead was naught but a game?

  Hearing the sound again, she realized it didn’t come from the door but the opposite side of the room, over by the hearth, instead.

  “Rats,” she whispered, cursing herself for blowing out the candle before she realized there wasn’t a way to light it again. Being here had her brain so muddled she swore she’d gone daft. She sat up on the pallet and cocked her head, listening for the sound of claws against the woo
d, shivering to think the vermin might be gnawing at her body as she slept. But instead of seeing rats, she heard more creaking and then saw the dim light of a candle – emerging from the floor!

  She jumped up and made her way across the room, her heart pounding like the beat of a drum in her ears. A trap door opened on the floor next to the hearth and a head emerged from the hole. She shot forward, meaning to slam the trap door down on the intruder. However, as soon as she started to move it, she realized it was just one of the boys she’d seen in the corridor when she was brought to the castle. It was the one with the red hair.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, scaring the boy and making him cry out.

  “Ah!” The candle he held lit up his face and she could see the surprise as well as the fear in his eyes. “Go back down,” he said to someone who must have been below him. “There is someone here!” The boy’s head started to disappear into the hole. With one hand, he tried to close the trap door behind him.

  “Wait!” She grabbed for the boy, but he moved quickly and made his way down a ladder before she could stop him. Looking down into the hole, she could see the shadows of two more boys below him. She thought she saw more children as well but couldn’t be sure. The firelight from the boy’s candle got dimmer as they disappeared. She had one foot on the ladder, meaning to follow them when she heard a key turning in the lock. “Not now,” she said, looking down to the children and then back up to the door. Should she follow the children and close the hatch and escape now? She decided not to do it just yet. The children seemed frightened. The last thing she wanted was for them to be caught and punished because of her.

  She let out a sigh and quickly closed up the escape hatch and ran back to the pallet, pretending to be asleep.

  Someone with a candle entered the room. Through her partially-opened eyes, she could see that it wasn’t the guard or Ravenscar. It was Ravenscar’s squire, Nelek.

  “My lady?” Nelek stuck his head in the room, holding the candle up high as he looked around the surroundings. “My lady, it’s Nelek. You don’t need to be afraid. I’ve brought you food and ale.”