by Flora Speer
“Of course I will.” Emma was on her feet as soon as Dain stood up.
”Vivienne,” Dain said, reaching down to help his sister stand, “I do have a last question for you to answer. Why did you leave those gifts for me?”
“I used to give you similar tokens when we were children, so I foolishly hoped they’d remind you of me,” she said, “though Agatha warned that your memory of me was blocked so long as the spell endured. But I grew impatient and refused to wait any longer. Knowing Emma possesses magical skills, I trusted her to solve the mystery and reveal to you a truth you could not recall. Which she did, when she first spoke my name aloud to you. It’s why I told her my name. The last gift, the large bead, is very similar to my parting gift to you so many years ago.”
“Nothing can bring back the years we’ve lost,” Dain said, “but restitution will be made. You will have justice, Vivienne. I’ll see to it. Agatha, you will come with us.” It wasn’t a request.
“You needn’t order me, Dain,” Agatha said. “I’ve been waiting years for this day to arrive.”
“Hermit, will you come, too?” Dain asked.
“I’d just as soon stay here,” Hermit said. “I’ve no real taste for battles.”
“Please?” Vivienne asked, and turned her soft gray eyes on him.
“On the other hand,” Hermit said, standing to join her, “I’d like to see this through to the end, and I have never met the notorious Lady Richenda. Lead on, my lord Dain, and I will follow.”
***
The tide was just beginning to ebb and the sea still washed over the rocks. Agatha and Vivienne simply walked through the water, emerging perfectly dry on Penruan beach. Emma was about to follow them when Dain scooped her into his arms and carried her around the rocks.
Emma didn’t protest. She was content to wrap her arms about his broad shoulders and lay her cheek against his. For a few minutes she rejoiced in the warmth and strength of Dain’s vigorous manhood, and dared to hope they could resolve all problems and banish all demons together, as they had promised each other just a few days earlier.
Behind them, Hermit splashed through the waves, grinning with the mischievous look of a little boy tramping his way through mud puddles, until he reached the dry sand. Then his scarred and bearded face assumed a grim expression.
“The look in your eyes,” Emma said to him when Dain had set her on her own feet again, “tells me that you are ready to do battle for Vivienne’s sake.”
“Not for Vivienne only,” Hermit responded. “I owe a debt to you, too.”
“Come on, then,” Dain ordered, speaking as if Hermit were one of his men-at-arms. “We’ll use our wits first, and trust we won’t have to resort to swords.”
“I haven’t handled a sword for years,” Hermit told him, “but I still remember how, and I’ll have no qualms about using one to defend our ladies.”
“Good man.” Dain clapped Hermit on the shoulder. “I don’t expect to have to use cold steel against my mother, but when dealing with her, it’s always best to be well prepared.”
With Dain and Hermit in the lead they hastened up the steep and narrow path to the top of the cliff and set out for Penruan Castle. The sentries on the battlements leaned over the edge to stare at the lord of the castle and at the shabbily dressed man in a flat-brimmed pilgrim’s hat, who were escorting across the drawbridge the lady of the castle, the elderly healer whom most of them knew, and the mysterious lady in white who was commonly assumed to be a ghost.
So firm was Dain’s control of his men that no one objected to the peculiar procession and no questions were asked, not even when they crossed the bailey, mounted the stairs, and entered the great hall. However, there were plenty of wondering looks. When Sloan saw them he set down his mug of ale rather abruptly on the trestle table. Todd sent a reproachful glance in Emma’s direction. Hawise rushed to Emma’s side, and Blake came with her.
“Where is Lady Richenda?” Dain asked of Sloan.
“In her chamber, my lord, where you ordered her confined,” Sloan answered.
“You and Todd go to her and bring her to the hall, along with Blanche,” Dain commanded. “What I have to say to my mother must be public knowledge. I will not have rumors making the rounds. This is a day for open truth.”
Chapter 15
Lady Richenda began her descent of the stairs with a confident air, as if she believed she had triumphed over her despised opponent. Blanche would nave told her by now how Emma had escaped from the lord’s chamber by magical means, and Emma could gather from the expressions passing over her stern race what her mother-in-law’s thoughts must be. With undisguised contempt Lady Richenda regarded Emma standing below in the hall with her hair pulling out of its braid and her shoes and the hem of her skirt soggy from sand and seawater. Obviously, the runaway wife had returned repentant to her husband’s castle, to be chastised and placed in confinement again, with Lady Richenda in charge of her.
Watching her mother-in-law, Emma saw with the clarity of new knowledge the conclusions Lady Richenda was drawing, and she marveled at the way in which that pitiful soul could deceive herself as well as others.
Then Lady Richenda spied Agatha and halted her progress down the steps.
“How dare you bring that loathsome creature into my home?” Lady Richenda demanded of Dain. “And who are these other two disreputable beings? If they are friends of Agatha, or of Emma, I’ll not allow them to stay. Remove them, Dain, and then I will speak with you, but not before.”
She turned to remount the steps only to find Sloan and Todd standing squarely behind her, blocking her way. Blanche was stopped a few steps higher, from where she could do nothing to aid her mistress.
“Out of my way!” Lady Richenda ordered the two men.
Neither man moved.
“Come down, Lady Richenda,” Dain said in a terrible voice. “I have something to say to you.”
“I will not listen if you intend to speak to me in that tone,” Lady Richenda responded.
“You will like my tone even less after I have finished with you,” Dain said, his face and voice as chill as winter’s frost. “Will you come into the hall on your own feet, or shall I order Sloan and Todd to carry you in?”
Lady Richenda lifted her chin a notch higher and walked with silent dignity down the last few steps. She acted as if she was completely oblivious to the servants and men-at-arms who were slipping into the hall by way of the main entry or the screens passage from the kitchen, drawn there by the hastily passed word of mouth that hinted of something important about to happen. Even Father Maynard appeared from the chapel, alerted by the murmurings of servants that he might be needed before long.
“What is this about?” Lady Richenda asked of her son.
“I have guests to present to you,” Dain said. “First, Agatha the healer, to whom you have not spoken for many years, not since the day when you made a certain malicious bargain with her.”
Lady Richenda did not respond to the provocative statement. She merely set her mouth in a stubborn, unattractive line and glared at Agatha. Only when she let her gaze move onto Hermit and then to Vivienne did she begin to lose her composure. She appeared startled by her first clear look at the strangers. Next she seemed puzzled and, finally, bewildered.
“Allow me to present our other guests,” said Dain. “First Hermit, a kind and valiant friend.”
”A man cannot be both valiant and kind,” Lady Richenda snapped haughtily.
“Your son is,’ Hermit told her.
“I never taught him kindness,” Lady Richenda said.
“Of that I am absolutely certain,” Hermit responded, smiling a little when Lady Richenda disdained to place her hand into the one he politely extended.
“Here is our most important guest,” Dain said, “though guest is not the correct word for her, since she rightfully belongs here.” He drew the lady in white forward with an arm around her waist.
Vivienne moved gracefully, her robes floati
ng about her in the invisible breeze that always seemed to surround her, and the air around her smelled of sunshine and the sea and of newly picked blossoms. A murmur arose from the onlookers, many of whom had seen the lady as she haunted the moor and the cliffs.
“This,” said Dain to his mother, raising his voice so all could hear, “is Lady Vivienne, my sister, child of my father’s first marriage, whom you banished from Penruan as soon as my father died.”
Lady Richenda went as white as Vivienne’s robes, her face absolutely bloodless. Emma expected her to swoon at the sudden appearance of the girl who she must have believed was long dead by now. Lady Richenda did not faint. Instead, she drew herself up and turned her cold, blue-green gaze on her son.
“This is a foul trick, perpetrated by that wicked healer, Agatha,” Lady Richenda said. “No doubt she was assisted by your equally wicked wife. Dain, you have no sister.”
“What I have,” he said, taking a threatening step toward her, “is my memory of Vivienne during my earliest life, years too long forgotten and restored to me only today. How could you abandon the daughter of the baron of Penruan? You have always claimed to honor and respect Halard as your lord and master, yet you ordered the murder of his legitimate child, and it would have been done as you commanded were it not for Agatha, who took Vivienne away from here.”
“My lady, is this terrible accusation true?” Father Maynard cried, hurrying to join the group facing Lady Richenda.
“It is true,” Agatha declared.
“You have broken our agreement,” Lady Richenda told her.
“An agreement made in haste and desperation,” Agatha said, “to keep two innocent children safe from harm. Tell me, Father Maynard, do you find any evil in what I did?”
“You used magic!” Lady Richenda cried, fists clenched in helpless fury.
“I saved Vivienne’s life!” Agatha responded with equal passion.
“Lady Richenda,” Father Maynard said, “it has long been clear to me that, while you rigidly observe the outward forms of faith, you lack the gentle and loving heart that ought to lie at the foundation of our religion. There are many ancient customs still alive in this land. I, myself, have felt their power on several occasions. So long as that power is used for good and not evil, as it is used in the healing arts, I do believe we ought to live peaceably, side by side with it. We have no right to take the comfort the old customs offer away from the souls we are tending.”
“You are a poor example of a priest,” Lady Richenda exclaimed.
“And you, my lady, are a remarkably poor example of a Christian,” Father Maynard told her with an asperity most unusual for him. “Consider yourself fortunate if you are not formally charged with conspiring to murder a noblewoman. As your spiritual adviser, I suggest you make a full and prompt confession and accept whatever penance is laid upon you. If you would rather not confess to me, knowing my sentiments on this matter, then perhaps you will find a more accommodating priest at the convent where your sister resides.”
“I thank you, Father Maynard,” Dain said. “You have just suggested an excellent solution to a problem that has been sorely vexing me since I first learned of this lady’s wicked scheming. I will not have a would-be murderer living in my home, even though she is my mother.”
“Dain,” Vivienne said, laying a hand on his arm, “don’t send Lady Richenda away. I know how painful it is to be forced to leave one’s home. What she did was done out of love for you.”
”A jealous, spiteful love,” Dain said, “that led to an evil plan.”
“I think she feared I would corrupt you with my magic.”
“More likely, she feared I would love you better than I loved her. Do you honestly believe that, if I permit her to remain at Penruan, she will not try again to kill you?”
“I am older now, no longer a child, and in full control of my power,” Vivienne said. “She cannot harm me.”
“If Lady Richenda is left free and unpunished,” Agatha spoke up, “she will do everything she can to cause trouble for you, Vivienne, and she’ll try her worst to ruin Dain’s marriage. She will try to reopen the old feud, too.”
“Ah, yes, the feud,” Dain said. “That issue must still be resolved. Blanche, take as many servants as you require and pack up Lady Richenda’s belongings – all of them! Todd, order horses saddled, and you’ll need a cart or two for the baggage. Sloan will choose a dozen men-at-arms for you to lead as you escort Lady Richenda to Tawton Abbey, to pay a permanent visit to her sister, the abbess. She will be leaving Penruan before sunset. Father Maynard, will you be good enough to write a letter to the abbess, explaining Lady Richenda’s sudden decision to devote the remainder of her years to prayer and penance? When it is finished, I will have you read it to me before I personally seal it, for Todd to deliver.”
“You cannot do this to me,” Lady Richenda said to Dain.
“Why not?” he asked, displaying no sign of warmth or affection, or even regret, toward her. “Would you prefer to spend the rest of your life in the castle dungeon? It’s what you deserve, after the way you treated Vivienne, and me, too. And can you imagine that anyone here at Penruan or on the rest of my lands, having heard the tale of your perfidy, would be willing to serve you, ever again? You know how gossip travels. Everyone in Trevanan will be aware of your cruelty before this day is done.”
“I did it all for you,” Lady Richenda cried.
“You did it to maintain your own authority,” Dain said. “With my father dead, you were full mistress of Penruan until I came of age. Even then, you continued to rule my household, and I treated you with respect because you are my mother, though often I disagreed with you.
“There is just one more thing you can do for me,” Dain continued, “since you claim to have my welfare always at heart. Tell me everything you know about the feud between Halard and Udo.”
“I have already told you, over and over, for years,” Lady Richenda said. “Udo tricked and cheated Halard out of land that should have been his. Before Halard died of the wound Udo inflicted, I swore to him I’d see you victorious over Udo’s heirs.”
“Yet you did nothing to carry out your promise until this past year,” Dain said. “Why did you nag at me to reopen the feud now? Why not sooner?”
“You’ll get no more from me,” she said. “I will tell you nothing, not so long as you harbor two sorceresses in my home.”
“It is your home no longer. I bid you farewell.” Dain turned his back on her and stalked away. He did not call her mother, or even my lady.
Emma saw the look of outrage that Lady Richenda cast at Dain’s back, and the way her mother-in-law glared at Vivienne, and then at her, and she felt a dreadful premonition that Lady Richenda wasn’t finished with them yet.
***
“I’ll be going now,” Agatha said as soon as the midday feast was over. “I have neglected my work of late. There are herbs to be gathered and medicines to be made before winter comes.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Hermit, rising from his place at the high table, where they were all sitting.
“Surely you can stay longer.” Vivienne’s appeal was made to both of her friends, but Emma could see it was Hermit she wanted to keep nearby.
“You are welcome here,” Dain said to Agatha.
“I know it,” she responded with a smile, “and I will return soon, I promise. There is much for me to discuss with Emma, and with Vivienne.”
“Hermit, will you come again when Agatha does?” Vivienne asked, regarding him wistfully.
“Perhaps,” Hermit responded rather abruptly. “Then again, I ought to be on my way. I can’t live in that cave forever.”
“Please don’t go,” Emma begged, having noticed the way tears were filling Vivienne’s eyes. “Don’t leave Penruan, or your friends.”
“I won’t leave until you – and Vivienne – are settled and happy,” Hermit said. “You have my word on it.”
With that rather vague promise both wome
n were forced to be content, and Agatha and Hermit departed soon after.
“Dain,” Emma said, “you and Vivienne will need time to learn to know each other again. Take her to the lord’s chamber, where no one will disturb you and you may talk together without curious stares. I have plenty of chores to keep me occupied for a while, so I won’t interrupt you.”
“How good you are to me,” Vivienne cried, and embraced Emma with a warmth that touched her deeply.
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness,’ Dain said with somewhat strained politeness.
Emma saw brother and sister off to their private conversation, and then attempted to immerse herself in the chatelaine’s duties that now fell to her, with Lady Richenda departed. An hour or so later, while she was supervising the cleaning and preparation of the bedchamber Vivienne had once occupied as a girl, and where she declared she would prefer to sleep over any other room in the castle, Blake appeared, bringing with him a faint odor of the stables.
“I thought you should know,” Blake said, “that shortly before Lady Richenda left, she sent a messenger riding off on an errand. I was in the bailey, helping to load up the carts, and I saw him saddle up and leave. When I asked where he was going he cuffed me so hard my ears rang and said the letter he carried was none of my business.”
“Perhaps Lady Richenda was sending word to inform her sister she’d soon be arriving at the convent,” Emma suggested, wishing she could permanently dismiss Lady Richenda from her thoughts. It wasn’t likely. Dain’s mother had ruled the domestic side of the castle with a stern hand, and Emma was once again encountering resistance to any alteration in long-established habits.