The Heart of Darkness

by Odelia Floris

  Presently, Sir Richard slowed in front of a tall, narrow timber-framed house with wattle and daub sides, which was surrounded by a hornbeam hedge of a little over head-height. In front of the hedge, a row of gillyflowers and periwinkles spilled over the rocks forming a garden edge and tumbling out onto the grassy lane.

  Sir Richard turned into a gap in the hedge. ‘Step this way, if you please.’

  She followed him in.

  He proceeded up the path winding through the large and sprawling garden surrounding the house, where lilies, peonies, violets, lavenders and roses grew in abundance. When he reached the front door, he opened it without knocking and entered.

  The hall that Rowena nervously stepped into was small but pleasant. A copper tub filled with a large arrangement of flowers sat on a little table in the corner, which, along with a table, some simple wooden benches and one chair, were the room’s only contents. There was no sign of anyone inside.

  Sir Richard unbuckled his sword and dagger and placed them on the table. He then began undoing the laces on his leather doublet, something she had never seen him without before.

  What could he possibly be doing?

  Her baffled expression did not go unheeded by Sir Richard, who smiled wryly. ‘She tells me that I feel like a scaly dragon wearing this.’

  So it must be true! Surely he would not say something like that if he was not about to meet a lover?

  As she followed Sir Richard through the house to the back door, she was filled with curiosity. What sort of woman did it take to capture and keep the heart of such a man? No doubt she was a great beauty…

  But the sight which met Rowena’s eyes as she stepped back outside was not what she had expected at all. There was indeed a damsel in the garden; a dark-haired slip of a maiden who looked no more than seventeen. She sat on a bank of creeping thyme under the dappled shade of a linden tree, surrounded by nodding flowers. The frail, sylph-like girl was dressed in a thin, flowing, white gown that made her appear so ethereal Rowena half expected her to dissolve into the air like a phantom.

  At the sound of the door, the girl delightedly cried ‘Richard, Richard!’ in a high, girlish voice, and groped for something at her side.

  Even though she seemed to be having trouble finding what she was searching for, the maiden did not lower her eyes to look for it.

  Rowena thought it most strange until suddenly it dawned on her: the girl was blind!

  The ethereal girl quickly found what she was searching for—a crutch leaning against the bank she sat on. Before Sir Richard could reach her, she had pulled herself to her feet and began limping towards him, leaning on the stick for support.

  He hurried to meet her with outstretched arms. ‘There is no need to get up, Everild, I am here.’

  Having reached him, the girl dropped her crutch and flung her arms around him. ‘Oh, how lovely it is to see you, Richard! I have been sitting here listening for you all morning.’

  Sir Richard warmly returned her embrace. ‘It is good to see you too.’

  ‘I know Aunty Amice says that sitting here waiting for you will not make you get here any faster,’ the maiden gushed joyfully, ‘but I am always so impatient for you to come I just can’t help myself!’

  He smiled fondly and kissed her cheek. ‘Dearest Everild, always so cheerful.’

  ‘How could I be anything but cheerful today? Wednesdays and Saturdays are my favourite days!’

  ‘Come, let us sit down. I want to hear about everything you have been doing since I last saw you.’

  As soon as Sir Richard was seated, the girl deposited herself into his lap and clasped one of his large hands between her two tiny ones.

  Sir Richard smiled down on the girl with a look of tenderness that Rowena had never seen in him before, had not thought he was even capable of until now. ‘So come, tell me all about it.’

  ‘I will tell you,’ she said shyly, ‘but first, won’t you tell me who the lady you have brought with you is, or is it a secret?’

  ‘Clever girl! How did you know?’

  ‘I heard her footsteps and the rustle of her gown moving across the grass, silly.’

  ‘But her feet barely made a sound on the soft ground.’

  ‘Yes, that is because she is a small, light-footed lady,’ the maiden replied as though she were stating the obvious. ‘Now, are you going to tell me who she is?’

  ‘Of course.’ He motioned to Rowena, who was hanging back, to come over.

  She obediently stepped forward.

  ‘This is Rowena.’

  ‘The cunning young lady who does all your accounts and clever things?’ the girl asked.

  Sir Richard laughed. ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  Now able to see the ethereal girl from up close, Rowena noticed a pale scar running down one of her cheeks, and another, deeper scar across the bridge of her nose. The ugly marks stood out painfully in what was otherwise a delicately beautiful face.

  Sir Richard then looked at Rowena. ‘And this is Everild, my sister.’

  His sister! No wonder he was so angry about the accusation that she was a prostitute. Rowena could understand that the poor maiden might not want people to see her face, but why had Sir Richard kept so quiet about his sister’s existence?

  ‘Delighted to meet you,’ said Rowena, and was about to offer her hand, but stopped, unsure of how to act towards a blind person so as not to startle.

  But Everild let go of Sir Richard and tentatively held out a little hand. ‘Nice to meet you too, Rowena.’

  Rowena warmly grasped Everild’s hand, which, even on this hot day, still felt rather cold. ‘I must say, your existence is a very well-kept secret.’ She darted a questioning glance at Sir Richard. ‘I did not realize that your brother had any living relatives.’

  Why did he have to be so mysterious? Surely he was not so ashamed of his sister that he did not want anyone to know about her?

  But Sir Richard just looked away uneasily and Everild turned nervously back to him, creating an awkward silence.

  Rowena regretted her annoyance instantly. ‘Well, never mind that! Good things are worth waiting for.’ She seated herself down next to them and smiled brightly. ‘Now, Everild, I absolutely insist on knowing all about you.’

  ‘I live here with Aunty Amice—Well, she is not really my aunt, but she is just as kind and good as a real one!’

  ‘She looks after you, does she?’

  ‘Yes. Richard hired her when we had to move out of the manor.’

  ‘Sir Richard takes good care of you too?’

  ‘Oh yes, the very best care.’ She turned to Sir Richard and kissed his cheek. ‘Richard is the nicest brother anyone could ever wish for!’

  Rowena could not help smiling at the enthusiastic gesture, although Sir Richard looked rather embarrassed by his sister’s glowing praise.

  ‘That is good. I am sure he loves you very much.’

  Everild squeezed his hand. ‘Yes, and I love him very much too.

  Rowena could not help feeling a tinge of envy at the loving bond they shared. The man she knew alternated between sullen moroseness, heated fury and, for a little light relief, merciless teasing with a hint of sadism. She could hardly believe it was the same man.

  Everild drew herself a little closer to her brother and whispered something in his ear.

  ‘No, I’m sure she won’t mind, dearest,’ he replied.

  Everild whispered to him again.

  He smiled and nodded. ‘Of course.’ He looked to Rowena. ‘Everild would like to know if you would mind if she felt your face. It’s the only way she can get an idea of what you look like.’

  ‘By all means. I don’t mind a bit.’

  Everild reached out her hand towards Rowena but moved it too far, missing her face.

  Sir Richard quickly took hold of Everild’s hand and placed it on Rowena’s cheek.

  Everild carefully moved her hand over Rowena’s face, feeling her nose, her lips, her forehead, and lastly, her hair.
When she was satisfied, she took hold of Sir Richard’s hand again and snuggled up against him. ‘What colour is Rowena’s hair?’

  ‘It’s red-brown.’

  ‘How lovely! And what about her colouring?’

  ‘Her face is sun-browned and freckled, and her eyes are green.’

  ‘How adorable,’ Everild cried delightedly. ‘I am sure she looks just like she sounds—sweet, kind and cute as a kitten!’

  Sir Richard squirmed a little and seemed unsure how to respond.

  Everild gave his shoulders a shake. ‘Do you not think I am right? Say something!’

  He was careful to avoid looking at Rowena. ‘Yes, of course you are right, sweet sister.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ She beamed up at him. ‘So, Richard, when are you going to propose to her?’

  ‘Everild!’ Sir Richard yelped. The once menacing warrior now looked as if he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. ‘We merely work together! Please, you are embarrassing my poor clerk.’

  The visit did not last long after that, and in its meagre duration, Sir Richard took care to keep conversation well away from anything connected to his clerk.

  As soon as he and Rowena were out of the door, Sir Richard began walking at a very fast pace. He clearly had still not recovered from the shock and embarrassment garnered by his sister’s bold question. He had hardly looked at Rowena for the rest of the visit, and seemed keen to avoid her on the way home by keeping well ahead of her. Rowena could understand this. Springing a question like that was likely to rattle any man. But he now had got so far ahead of her that he was in danger of disappearing from view altogether.

  ‘Sir Richard, please slow down!’ she called to him. ‘My legs are much shorter than yours; I really can’t keep up!’

  He came to a reluctant halt.

  ‘Without you here, I would be helplessly lost,’ she gasped as she finally caught up with him. ‘All these streets look the same. I wouldn’t have a clue how to get back to the castle from here.’

  He was still careful to avoid catching her eye, but did slow his pace considerably.

  She could now walk alongside him. ‘I really don’t mind about what your sister said, so please, don’t be embarrassed.’

  ‘I’m not embarrassed!’ he snapped, beginning to speed up again.

  ‘Oh, wait for me!’

  He reluctantly slowed. ‘Pardon me.’

  ‘Your sister is a lovely girl. You are very lucky to have her. I only wish that my own living relatives were half as nice.’

  ‘She is an angel. How she came from such a brood of vipers as the Hastings God only knows! But what is clear is that I don’t deserve her.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking; how did your sister get the scars on her face?’

  The look with which he greeted this question suggested that he did mind. But he answered anyway. ‘It happened when she was five years old. She was set upon by outlaws while travelling through a wild and lawless forest. They pulled her jewellery off, then slashed her across the face and stabbed her in the leg. She has been blind and lame ever since.’ Sir Richard’s voice had a hollow, emotionless tone as he told the story, as if he could not bear to think about it.

  Sensing the pain the subject caused him, Rowena did not dig any further, although she felt sure that he was only telling her part of the story about what happened to Everild.

  Rowena hesitated to ask the question his arrangements posed, but she could not keep silent. ‘I ask this not out of idle curiosity,’ she began cautiously, ‘but because I am responsible for your finances. Why do you pay the lease of that house when your position as sheriff provides you with Eaglestone Castle, free of charge, to use as your own? It has more than enough space to house any number of relatives.’

  ‘My sister would struggle to find her way around such a large pile, the stairs would be a constant danger, and most of all, I do not want her becoming entangled in any of the peril and evil that writhe about such men of war and disrepute as myself.’

  The remainder of the walk back to Eaglestone passed in a silence that was thoughtful on her part, and tensely self-flagellating on his.

  * * * *

  ‘Mistress Walden!’

  Rowena quickly looked around to see who had called her name. It being a market day, the street was crowded with people. At first, she was not sure who had called out, but then she recognized a man standing behind her among the many people filling Hartfield’s main street. It was Walter Gray, the father of the kidnapped twins.

  She nodded courteously. ‘Sire, God give you good day.’

  He doffed his soft velvet cap as he hurried towards her. ‘Damsel, God keep you.’

  She tried to look friendly and easy of mind, but was sure her shaky smile betrayed her nervousness. ‘How is it with you?’

  Still holding his cap, he gave a dismissive wave of the hand that suggested the answer was so obvious it did not merit saying. ‘Have you discovered who these villains are yet?’

  ‘No, but Sir Richard and his men rode over to Lothbury this morning. We think the felons might have passed through our neighbouring shire, so hopefully they will find some clues there.’

  The man ran his fingers through his silver hair. They were shaking with agitation. ‘Why did the sheriff not go over there days ago if he thinks that these evil rogues were seen there?’

  ‘He did not find this out until two days ago, when I rode over to the scene of the latest kidnapping with him and we searched it again.’

  ‘He has known about this new lead for two days and only now is he doing something about following it up?’

  Rowena could see frustration and anger building in the man, but could think of little that she could say to pacify him. ‘I’m truly sorry that we have not been able to bring your daughters back to you yet, sire, and I can understand your anger, but Sir Richard is trying his best to find the missing maidens.’

  ‘Trying his best?’ Walter Gray’s already strained voice rose to a shout. ‘That man does not care about my daughters! If he did, he would be putting some proper effort into trying to find them!’

  ‘Please calm yourself, sire. I can assure you that Sir Richard is now doing everything he can to find your daughters.’

  ‘You mean he wasn’t doing everything he could before?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant—’

  ‘That man is a complete failure as sheriff! He does nothing to protect the people of this shire from felons because he is too busy beating up starving petty thieves and finding new ways to squeeze more taxes out of us!’

  A crowd had begun to gather at the sound of the shouting. Rowena knew Sir Richard would not be happy if he heard that there had been public accusations made against him. She just wished she could find a way to silence the man, or at least get him to somewhere where he would not be heard by half the town.

  But the furious, grieving father had not even started. ‘That Sir Richard is bent, corrupt!’ He now addressed not just her, but the whole crowd. ‘He’s skimming off a great deal of the taxes we pay to him! Friends, I know how much the taxes demanded by the king are; the people of this shire are forced to pay half this much again!’

  There was an angry growl from the people gathered there.

  Rowena began to panic a little. But there was nothing she could do now. The situation was out of control.

  ‘Many sheriffs are corrupt,’ he continued, ‘but the amount of money that our sheriff steals from us is unreasonable! If he does not even do his job of keeping the law, of keeping the people of this shire safe, why should we put up with this?’

  ‘Why indeed!’ shouted a young woman at the back of the crowd. ‘Me sister nearly starved to death last winter when she was taken ill and couldn’t work. She had no savings left because she’d paid them all to the sheriff’s taxman!’

  There was another growl of agreement from the crowd, louder this time.

  ‘The time for passively tolerating this outrage is over!’ cried Gray, punching t
he air. ‘Now is the time for action!’

  A great cheer erupted from the crowd, which was growing by the moment. Rowena was being pushed and jostled on every side, but escape was now impossible. The weight of the people pushing from the back, trying to get closer to the action, meant she could hardly move.

  ‘The time has come for the people of this town to demand an end to this corruption and lawlessness!’

  There was another cheer from the people, and many shouts of agreement.

  Gray held up a piece of paper. ‘This is a petition I am sending to the king, demanding that Sir Richard Hastings be removed from his position. If the king does not grant this request, then, my fellow citizens, we must take matters into our own hands. We must refuse to acknowledge him as our sheriff. We will refuse to pay our taxes to him!’

  He paused until the thunderous cheer that roared forth from the crowd had died down. ‘I know,’ he continued, ‘that I have every one of the good citizens of Hartfield and her neighbouring villages behind me in this!’

  Cheers and shouts of ‘Right you are, sire!’ and ‘Aye!’ filled the streets.

  Walter Gray raised his hand. ‘I thank you, loyal friends!’

  The cheering crowd surged towards Gray and lifted him up onto their shoulders, then poured down the street carrying him aloft.

  Rowena seized hold of the signpost in front of her and clung to it. The tide of people swept passed her, at times pressing so hard she could scarcely breathe. She only just managed to keep hold of the pole and avoid being swept down the street with them.

  Once the rowdy mob had gone, it was some time before she dared to loosen her grip.

  .7.

  Lightning Strikes Again

  and a Phoenix Arises

  ‘HURRY up and get out of the damn way!’

  Hearing Sir Richard’s by-now familiar bellow coming from the courtyard below, Rowena walked over to the window of the sheriff’s office where, the day’s work done, she had been preparing to leave for home.