Starless

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Alexander glanced at Achilles. “Because we ran into a group of de Meynell knights when we were escorting Susanna home. Things got a bit… bloody, shall we say.”

  “How many knights?”

  “Seven, my lord.”

  “Did you kill any of them?”

  “I would say at least two or three, but they attacked us first. We had no choice. We were wearing Pembroke standards and they seemed to take that as an invitation for hostilities.”

  William grunted unhappily. “They would,” he said. Then, he cocked his head as if he suddenly had a thought. “You say that you heard language spoken at Aysgarth that you recognized from Thuringia?”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Gotha is in Thuringia.”

  The spark of realization flared. William looked at Christopher and the two of them shared a moment of shocking awareness.

  “Whorlton is not far from Aysgarth,” Christopher said. “As I recall, it is forty or fifty miles away. I have seen Whorlton, long time ago, and I recall that it is not a very big castle.”

  William was processing information, his mind working rapidly as it always did. “If de Tiegh and de Meynell plant a mercenary army in Yorkshire, that will be a threat to Richmond and any other lord loyal to John. Rebel barons could do a good deal of damage.”

  It was a concerning thought, but no one in that room was more concerned than Achilles. I left Susanna in the middle of that, he thought. He hadn’t wanted to leave her for many reasons, but none more prevalent than leaving her with a brother who was clearly doing something subversive. It was true that she could take care of herself, but he didn’t like the idea of having to. He should be there with her. But before he could say anything to that regard, however, William spoke up again.

  “I must get this information to Cai,” he said. “I want to know what he knows of this, and if he knows nothing, then he must find out what is going on between Whorlton and Aysgarth. Clearly, something is happening and we must know what it is. Sherry, can I trust you to lead another escort north to Richmond and tell him what you have seen at Aysgarth?”

  Alexander nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

  “Then take de Lara with you because de Winter is demanding I return MacRohan to him,” he said with feigned disgust. “Daveigh de Winter claims he cannot get along without his big Irish bull, so it is begrudgingly that I must let him return to Narborough Castle in Norfolk before Daveigh comes to London to personally retrieve him.”

  “Aye, my lord,” Alexander said. “And Achilles?”

  William turned to look at Achilles, still sitting in the same chair where he commanded the man to sit earlier.

  “Take him,” he said, but his next words were directed at Achilles. “You will go to Richmond first, do you understand? You and Sherry will tell Cai what you told me and wait for direction from him. I do not want you to go charging back to Aysgarth and risk both you and Susanna. Her brother does not suspect that she serves me and I do not need you ruining anything in your haste. Is that clear?”

  Achilles nodded. “It is, my lord.”

  William’s gaze lingered on Achilles as if he didn’t quite believe the knight, but he let it go. He had only worked with Achilles for the past few several months, so the trust they had been building was fragile. He trusted him on his oath alone, not because he had experience with him. Achilles, and Maxton and Kress, had become changed men once they returned to England, so William was understandably wary. A woman could do strange things to a man’s self-control.

  After a moment, he turned to Christopher.

  “Do you have anything to add?” he asked.

  Christopher shook his head. “Nay.”

  “You do not mind that I am sending Kevin with them?”

  Again, Christopher shook his head. “He will be a welcome addition,” he said. “But I was thinking, William, Netherghyll Castle is south of Aysgarth by about a day. It is down near Bradford. They will pass near Netherghyll on their way north to Richmond. That’s the seat of the House of de Royans, Constables of North Yorkshire and the Northern Dales. Bryton de Royans might also know what is going on at Aysgarth, or if he does not, he should be notified.”

  William nodded in agreement. “De Royans has a sizable army, too,” he said. “If the worst comes with Aysgarth rebels, we can converge on him from both Netherghyll and Richmond. He and his mercenaries would be boxed in.”

  “Very true.”

  “Bryton’s father, Juston de Royans, is further north at Bowes Castle. He’s a little too far away to be directly involved in this, but if Aysgarth is involved in a rebellion, Bowes will eventually be a target, too.”

  Christopher crossed his big arms thoughtfully. “I would not think Juston is in any immediate danger. Besides, we do not want to work the old knight into a frenzy. Juston would not tolerate any foolery from Aysgarth and could very well take his big army down there just to beat up on them. My old master has been known to do such things.”

  They both chuckled at the thought of very old, but still very volatile, Juston de Royans charging Aysgarth. Juston had mentored Christopher and David, as well as the Unholy Trinity and many other knights in the days before they had gone to The Levant and earned their ferocious reputations. Even Achilles grinned because he knew that Juston would do precisely what Christopher had suggested. The man didn’t tolerate foolery and he would have no hesitation in starting a ruckus about it.

  “I adore Juston,” William said fondly. “I miss the man. Another great knight who fell to the wiles of a woman.”

  Christopher simply grinned, shaking his head. “If you only did not see it that way. None of us do.”

  William waved them off, unwilling to admit that men had focus on something else other than their sworn duties. They could swear an oath, live by the sword, and fight a thousand battles, but a woman had the ability to change all of that. By this time, William should have accepted such a thing, but he didn’t want to.

  He was stubborn that way.

  “I will send a missive for Bryton de Royans,” he said to Alexander and Achilles, setting his empty wine cup on the nearest table. “You may sleep here tonight and then take it with you in the morning. Do not delay stopping at Netherghyll; simply find a messenger when you near Netherghyll and send it on. I will tell de Royans where you will be should he need to contact you.”

  The situation was clearly outlined and the meeting was coming to a close. They could all sense it. All things considered, Achilles thought the discussion had gone rather well. At least he had permission to return to Aysgarth and that was all he really cared about. In fact, he was eager to get started.

  “Aye, my lord,” he said as he rose from his chair. “We will seek you on the morrow.”

  William was already heading to a large table in his solar, cluttered with a great many things – maps, quills, empty ink wells. All of it in some kind of organized mess, the tools of a man who had been handling the reins of power in England for an abundance of years. He didn’t reply to Achilles, so the man took it as a hint and headed to the door.

  Departing the solar with Alexander, Bric, and Kevin, the next logical step should have been seeking a bed somewhere in The Marshal’s vast house, but Achilles couldn’t seem to do it. He wasn’t tired. He would be returning to Aysgarth on the morrow and the excitement of seeing Susanna again, in spite of the circumstances surrounding Aysgarth, had him excited. He couldn’t wait to hold her again, to kiss her, and to tell her that he loved her.

  He never thought he would ever look forward to such a thing.

  But first, there was the small matter of farewells to be made.

  “Bric, we’re going to miss your sword,” Achilles said, extending his hand to the big Irish knight. “Safe travels back to Narborough for you.”

  With a grin, Bric accepted his hand. “It has been an adventure with you, lad,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “I hope everything works out well for you and Susanna. You are both always welcome at Narborough. Visit me sometim
e.”

  Achilles snorted. “I will,” he said. “Sorry to have put you in the middle of our lover’s quarrels, old man.”

  Bric laughed. “I would not have missed it,” he said. “But I will say that you two flirt with the subtlety of garlic stew. Next time, leave me out of it.”

  That brought laughter from both Achilles and Alexander as Bric headed off, preparing to return to his liege and his usual duties for the House of de Winter. That left Kevin standing with Achilles and Alexander, scratching his head as he watched Bric go.

  “Is that what I have to look forward to?” he asked. “You flirting with a woman who trained at Blackchurch?”

  Achilles winked at him. “I’m much more adept at it these days. You’ll see.”

  He said it with a good deal of confidence, even as he headed out of Farringdon House. Alexander watched him go, sighing heavily before following. It would not do well to leave Achilles on his own during a night in London. Because Alexander was following Achilles, Kevin did as well, and the three of them ended up back at The Pox.

  Achilles wanted to eat and gamble, and he did, but after he’d had a bit too much to drink, he confessed that he’d come to The Pox one last time because he suspected his future wife would not approve of such things and the Blackchurch-trained knight could do a lot of damage if she did not approve of something. He didn’t want a battle on his hands.

  For once in his life, Achilles wasn’t willing to tempt fate… and he didn’t care a lick.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Aysgarth Castle

  “Stop tugging, my lady.” The woman was trying not to scold. “If you pull at it, you will ruin the fabric.”

  Susanna dropped her hands from the neckline which, in her opinion, was far too plunging. She knew she had breasts. Of course, she knew she had them, but now everybody else in the world was going to know it, too. When she looked at herself, all she could see were what men joyfully called paps.

  Big, white, round boobs.

  “Are you certain that all the ladies are wearing this style?” she asked hesitantly. “It is quite beautiful, but it seems… well, it is rather low on the neck.”

  Standing in her chamber, Susanna was perched on a stool as a seamstress all the way from the larger village of Leyburn fitted three garments on her that she’d commissioned right after Achilles had departed. Susanna’s goal was to have the dresses ready for him when he returned, but she wasn’t so sure he would be happy to see that one of her new garments was rather lewd.

  Even if it was spectacularly beautiful.

  “That is the style, my lady,” the seamstress assured her as the woman’s assistant hemmed up the bottom of the garment to suit Susanna’s height. “You are positively exquisite in it.”

  Susanna wasn’t so sure. Looking down at herself, she ran her hand over the fabric, which was very expensive. She had paid a lot for it. It was a very fine woolen weave that was soft, and had a bit of give to it, so that it clung gracefully to her figure. It was a medium shade of green, quite lovely, and the seamstress had explained that it had been dyed with crushed chamomile and, not strangely, grass that had been boiled down.

  The sleeves of the garment were long and snug, but then there was an extra layer of fabric over them that the seamstress called “angel’s wings”. They were big, drapey and, indeed, looked like wings. The entire dress was utterly beautiful and utterly impractical, but the shade had been chosen to show off her hair color and Susanna hoped that Achilles would be pleased even if it did show off a little too much flesh. But as much as she had been looking forward to dressing like a woman and learning to act like one, the reality of it was quite different.

  It was going to take some getting used to.

  There were two other garments that the seamstress had brought with her, a yellow brocade and a blue silk nearly the exact shade of Susanna’s eyes. Both of them were of the latest fashion, or so Susanna was told, and they came with belts and hose and even shoes. When Susanna told the seamstress that she planned to wear her boots with her new dresses, the woman looked so stricken that Susanna decided to wear the matching dainty slippers so the woman wouldn’t weep.

  It had been a month since Achilles had left, time enough for the dresses to be commissioned and time enough for Susanna to wish with all her heart that Achilles would return to her very soon. Every day that passed saw her watching the gates, becoming excited every time a visitor came to Aysgarth and then disappointment set in when she realized it wasn’t Achilles.

  And then, there was Meggie.

  Meggie Greenhow was her name and she was a friend of the seamstress, who went by the name of Mistress Bron. When Susanna had first found her way into Mistress Bron’s seamstress stall in Leyburn, a very awkward conversation had ensued that had Susanna essentially telling the woman that she had no idea how to dress, or act, like a lady. It hadn’t been in those exact words, but the message had been obvious, and Mistress Bron had immediately taken charge of the situation, especially when Susanna had pulled out her purse to pay for the dresses to be commissioned.

  Sensing money to be made, Mistress Bron endeared herself to Susanna hugely.

  After promising to sew her dresses, she sent for a friend, who happened to be Meggie. Meggie had been a lady’s maid at Kendal Castle for the lord’s daughter but when the daughters had married, Meggie’s services were no longer required. Displaced, she’d returned to her birthplace of Leyburn to work in her father’s tavern.

  Meggie hated the tavern, however, and was more than happy to offer her services to Susanna, who really felt as if she had little choice but to accept. With Mistress Bron pushing on one side and Meggie begging on the other, Susanna accepted Meggie’s service simply to shut them up. But it was also because she knew she needed their help, as difficult as it was for her to admit it. Susanna de Tiegh never needed help with anything, but she needed help now. Meggie had happily returned to Aysgarth Castle with Susanna to immediately begin her duties of tending her new mistress.

  And that had been quite a process.

  Everything Meggie did was modeled after the de Reimfrid daughter of Kendal Castle. Whatever Meggie had done for the young woman, she did for Susanna, and that included daily washings, constant hair brushing, hair dressing, face scrubbing, and most appallingly, removing unwanted hair from the eyebrows.

  Susanna had been forced to endure Meggie plucking stray hairs from her eyebrows which, in the end, looked rather nicely groomed, but the entire process had been horrifically painful. Meggie had also suggested hair removal from her underarms and Venus Mound, as many fine women did such a thing, but Susanna had balked at that. She wasn’t about to endure being plucked in private places.

  The very idea made her shudder.

  But her days with Meggie had been interesting and educational, nonetheless. Meggie was a little older than Susanna, rather plump and with a hooked nosed, but she had a bright smile and as Susanna got to know the woman, she could see that Meggie really only had her best interests at heart. She never sensed Meggie was out for money as she did with Mistress Bron, but that she simply had a desire to be of service. So, Susanna let her.

  And then, there were the lessons.

  Meggie had never fostered, so everything she’d learned had been from ladies who had. She knew how to play alquerque, a type of board game, and she knew how to play card games. Susanna knew how to roll dice and gamble, but Meggie frowned upon that, so Susanna was forced to learn more ladylike pursuits.

  Meggie knew how to sew and she taught Susanna basic methods, which turned into horror pieces because Susanna had no aptitude for such things. Meggie knew a few songs so she tried to teach Susanna, but the woman had no voice, so the singing lessons were quickly stopped. Meggie also knew many romantic stories and she would tell Susanna of them on days when Susanna seemed particularly glum, not realizing that the stories of lovers were driving Susanna into an even deeper gloom.

  Susanna had never mentioned Achilles to Meggie, so it wasn’t as if the m
aid knew how the romantic tales hurt. In spite of everything, however, Susanna and Meggie had become friends and Susanna was learning to trust her. The only friends Susanna had ever known were her former charge, Cadelyn, and another young woman at Castle Rising named Lily-Elsie. But that was it; those were the only women she’d ever had frequent and personal contact with. She’d only been part of Lady Cadelyn’s entourage but, now, she was building a little entourage of her own with Meggie.

  Truthfully, she wasn’t unhappy about it.

  On this particular day, the weather was unseasonably warm as Susanna continued to stand on the stool as the assistant sewed her hem. Her thoughts drifted to Achilles as they so often did and she wondered if today would be the day that he would finally return for her. Mistress Bron was supervising the hemming while Meggie was in and out of the chamber because it was wash day and she had insisted that Susanna’s bed linens be washed. Meggie was a bit of a tyrant that way. As Susanna stood on the stool with increasing impatience, Meggie swept into the chamber with a pile of linens in her arms. She came to a dead stop when she saw Susanna in her new green dress.

  “How beautiful, my lady!” she gasped. “The green is perfect for you!”

  Susanna smiled wanly. “You do not think that it shows… well, that the neck is too low?”

  Meggie stood back, peering at the top of the dress. “You have perfect breasts, my lady,” she said. “The dress shows this.”

  Susanna sighed faintly, looking the least bit perturbed. Meggie was becoming a bit adept at reading her mistress these days and could see that she wasn’t pleased.

  “If you do not like the way it fits, I am sure Mistress Bron can fix it,” she said quickly, looking at Mistress Bron. “If my lady is not comfortable with the plunge of the neck, you can certainly fix it, can’t you?”

  Mistress Bron was a creator and didn’t like to have her creations tampered with. Frowning, she went to take another look at the neckline as Meggie did the same. Together, they peered at Susanna’s breasts, something that made her exceedingly uncomfortable. It was even worse when they started tugging and poking.