by Mac Flynn
Bean Lyel led me from the kitchen and across the great dining hall into the entrance. To our right was the front doors that led to the courtyard, and to our left was a wide stone staircase that led to the higher floors. The top of the stairs ended in a landing that ran along the wall in front of us and disappeared into the depths of the castle. Another hall traveled straight in front of the stairs and into the west wing. The passage along the balcony faced the north.
Bean Lyel handed me the linen and turned to the stairs. "Follow me."
My stoic guide directed me up the stairs and to the west wing. I paused and glanced down the balcony to the north. Memories of the tales of the young laird came to mind, and I had the sinful desire to search the north wing to find what truths lay in the stories.
"Girl," Bean Lyel scolded me from ten yards down the western hall.
"Coming," I replied as I hurriedly followed.
I caught up to Bean Lyel, but she didn't press on. She stood against one of the walls, and her eyes flickered between the northern hall and me.
"You're not to go into the north wing without my husband or myself accompanying you. Do you understand?" she questioned me.
I lowered my eyes and bowed my head. "I do."
"Good. Now don't let me catch you wasting time again," she warned me.
"Yes, Bean Lyel," I replied.
Bean Lyel guided me down the passage into the depths of the large castle. There were large wooden doors on either side of us that led into the rooms. At the end of the hall was a large window that garnered a rear view of the castle and the hill on which it had been built.
The silence between us was deafening. Only the sounds of our footsteps on the smoothed stones subdued the unease inside me.
"Have you served the Campbell family long?" I asked Bean Lyel.
She stiffly shook her head. "Nay."
"Did you serve the late Lady Campbell?" I guessed.
Bean Lyel's face grew strained and the corners of her lips turned down. "No. I came after her death, and to serve another purpose."
We came to an open door on our right, and Bean Lyel turned to face me. She gestured to the room. It was a large chamber with a hearth and a tall four-post bed. Two windows stood tall and thin on the opposite wall from the entrance and on either side of the bed. They each had plain glass panes in them to keep out the worst of the cold of the moors. The small hearth with its crackling fire lay to the left.
"I'll be needing you to fix up the bed. Can you do that?" she questioned me.
"The covers need turned out and new sheets?" I wondered.
"Aye, and the air needs some cleaning, so dust all that you see and open the windows," she ordered me. "Can you do all that?"
"Aye. It's no worse than spring cleaning with Mother," I told her.
"Good. I will be back to inspect your work in a short while," Bean Lyel warned me.
She strode past me and I was left alone in that wing of the castle. I slipped into the room and readied the space for one of the laird's two guests. The space was dusty, but not ill-kept. The laird had a great many visits from his vassals that required a great deal of space and expense. I wondered that he didn't return the favor by visiting them, for I never heard of him leaving the castle these last ten years since the Lady Campbell passed on.
I shook the sheets and coughed as a storm of dust rose up. The bed, and now the room, was in dire need of an airing. I hurried over to the right window and threw it open. I had to give pause to the view.
The castle was built in fits and starts. The north wing was the oldest, and the west wing was the newest. The west wing jutted out of the rear of the castle and the window at which I stood faced the north wing and the mountain. Far beneath me lay a large terraced garden. A spring ran down the mountain and through the center of the stone pathways. The water sank beneath the castle and to the well accessed in the stables, and provided those of us within its walls a reliable source of fresh water. Benches were placed along the walks with their backs turned to the wide, tall beds of flowers. Though the autumn was full upon us the plants were still green and the flowers still held some faded colors to them.
The view was wonderful, but my eyes were kept on the north wing. I could see the line of windows along that wing, and I noticed a queer thing. Though Aili had told us all there was no one in the north wing I noticed some of the glass panes in the windows at the end of the wing were open.
"Are you done?" a voice snapped.
I spun around to find Bean Lyel behind me. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed so tightly together that they were pale from the force.
"A-almost," I replied.
"Then you're as good as not started, now get away from that window and get to work," she snapped.
I quickened away from the window and to the bed. Bean Lyel took my place at the window and looked out. I glanced over my shoulder and noticed she, too, had her eyes turned to the north wing. She pulled back and shut the window with her.
In a thrice I had the bed done and was handed a dust rag by Bean Lyel. That chore was followed by many others as we swept the floor, stoked the fire, and made the room very comfortable. When all was done the autumn sunlight was dim in the sky. Bean Lyel lit a candle and handed me one before we left the room to the passage.
"Tell Aili I will need your services the day after the morrow," she instructed me.
I cringed, but bowed my head. "Yes, Bean Lyel."
"Good. Now off with you, and keep away from the north wing."
I hurried down the passage. Bean Lyel was as queer a sort as Bruce, but while his nature was teasing hers was not. I returned to the kitchen and Aili met me with candle in hand.
"God be praised, but I was about to look for you," Aili told me as she set a hand on my back. "Didn't Bean Lyel tell you you're not to be in the passages at this hour?"
"No, only that she would like my services on the day after the morrow," I replied.
"Well, she will have them, but she treasures them little if she doesn't warn you to such rules as we have here," Aili commented. "Now let's be off to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day for the both of us."
A small passage off the kitchen led to a row of tiny rooms, one of which was to be mine. There was scarcely room enough to lay down for two people to lay on the mess of straw, but two people it was required to hold. I was to share with Mary. She was none to pleased with the prospect.
"Why am I to share my room?" she whined to Aili.
"Because you're the only one who isn't," Aili pointed out.
"But you aren't," Mary argued.
Aili's eyes narrowed. "That's my perk and one you haven't earned, now stop your grumbling and let her inside."
Mary frowned, but stepped aside. I bowed my head and slipped inside.
"And that's a reminder to the rest of you," Aili called to the others. "There's no leaving the rooms after lights are out except for fire or if the laird calls us. Do you understand?" We servants grumbled our understanding. "Good, now let's to bed, all of us."
Our candles were extinguished and we all gratefully settled down for a long rest. The days were long for the servants, and my first day had been tiring. I had no sooner laid my head down on the straw then I was asleep.
But I was not to stay that way.
At a late hour a noise started me awake. I lifted my head and looked around the small space. Mary lay opposite me on her own bed.
"Mary?" I whispered.
I heard only the faint wisps of a snore from her. It wasn't she who made the noise.
There! I heard it again! There was a faint sound of footsteps and the chink of a plate.
I slipped off my bed of straw and peeked out the door. A weak light shone in the kitchen, and a small shadow flickered on the wall to the left. My heart quickened as I thought of thieves, or worse. Such a danger as exposing a thief was worth the risk of a stern reprimand from Aili. I crawled out the door and to the kitchen
where I peeked around the corner.
A light retreated from the kitchen and into the dining hall. I struggled to my feet and stumbled after the figure. The door to the hall was slightly ajar, and I peeked through in time to see a short figure slip into the entrance hall. I opened the door and my feet patted quietly along the cold stones to the door.
My hand stretched in front of me to push open the door, but the entrance swung open. A tall dark shape of a man stood in the doorway. I gasped and stumbled back, but their hand whipped out and wrapped around my wrist. Their hold was as cold as ice, but the firm, quiet voice was far worse. The tone made me shudder.
"Who are you?" Laird Campbell's voice snapped at me.
"I-I am Muira, your new kitchen servant," I told him.
The laird pulled me against the rough furs that were wrapped around his thin frame and his eyes looked me over. His terrible breath washed over me, and his words were short and curt. "I see. What brought you out here after curfew?"
"I-I thought I heard an intruder," I admitted.
His eyes narrowed. "And did you see who it was?"
I shook my head. "No, my laird, only a shadow and a candle."
The laird's bright, cold eyes studied me for a long while. My heart beat so quickly I feared it would stop. His hand on my wrist was painful to bear, and his furs were not well-cleaned. Finally, he pulled his face away from mine, but did not release me.
"If I find you out here then you will feel the end of my lash. Do you understand?" he snapped at me.
I nodded. "Aye, my laird."
"Good." He tossed me away from him and in the direction of the kitchen. "Now return to your room."
I bowed my head. "As you wish, my laird."
"As I demand," he corrected me.
I bowed my head again and hurried away. Never was hay so welcome beneath me as when I lay down in the small room. Mary lay still beside me as I curled into a ball and rubbed my wrist. It still throbbed from his hard hold. My mind scolded me for my foolish adventure, but my curiosity promised another chance at catching the strange figure.
CHAPTER 5