The Circle Of A Promise

by Helen A Rosburg

  No. Mara shook her head. Yet at the same time, she gazed at the undercroft with longing. If she went out for only a little while, very early in the morning, what could happen?

  The late afternoon sun no longer reached down through me trees, and William Aettewater felt the chilly approach of evening. It was nearly time to rendezvous with Rand and Wulfric at their small campsite, deep in the forest on the far side of the Ullsmere. He grunted. Here was the end of another fruitless day spying on Ullswater and its environs.

  William rubbed the back of his neck and felt a cool tremor pass through his limbs-but not because of the sun’s withdrawal.

  Baldwin was not going to like the information the three men had gathered for him. Ullswater Castle was locked up as tightly as a convent expecting Vikings. Happily for Ullswater, unfortunately for William, the castle seemed prepared for assault. The earl was not going to like that. He was not going to like the men who brought him that message. The thought made William a trifle less eager to hurry back to the campsite.

  Rand and Wulfric were ready to return to their lord, despite the news they bore. They were fools. William would just as soon put it off. His footsteps lagged until he came to a halt. It wouldn’t hurt to stop for a time and ponder the dilemma. Put off the inevitable for a while longer.

  A patch of grassy earth caught William’s eye. It looked promising. It was at the foot of a hill with enough slope to make the reclining position comfortable. Also, it was out of the wind in the lee of a large pile of boulders.

  No, it wouldn’t hurt to linger here, to rest a bit Because most peasants were too poor to own a horse, Baldwin had forbidden his spies to ride their animals. As a result William had walked many miles afoot. He was tired. He stretched out.

  The only other movement he made throughout the entire night was to curl into a fetal position when the sun, and its warmth, finally dropped below the horizon.

  Mara awoke before dawn, as she had known she would- she had done so almost every morning of her life. This morning was different in another way, however. It would be one of the last in her own bed, her own room, in her father’s house. It was also one of the few remaining mornings she would awaken alone. The furs were suddenly too warm. Mara swung her legs over the side of the bed and encountered Trey’s coarse gray coat The dog got up, padded to the door, and whined.

  “Down, Trey,” Mara said irritably.

  The beast dropped to his belly but fixed her with a mournful eye. Mara turned away and rolled atop her furs.

  The fantasy returned at once to plague her: Stephen, lying in bed beside her. Their bodies touched, warm where flesh met flesh.

  She knew what would happen next She had never been sheltered from the more basic aspects of castle life; the breeding of horses and hounds, cattle and sheep; the nightly scufflings, murmurs, and moans under the blankets of those who slept in the great hall.

  But how, exactly, would it come about? Would he kiss her? How would Stephen’s lips feel against hers? Mara put a finger to her lips, imagining.

  Would he touch her? Touch her face? Let his fingers trace the line of her jaw, slide down her neck? Her hand moved to her throat What would happen next? How would he love her? Gently?

  How would his hands feel when they touched her? Would his caress be warm, lingering?

  And why, why did she experience these strange sensations in her body she had never before known? Why the heat in her belly that spread like molten fire through her limbs and left her weak and trembling?

  Mara bolted upright. Her breast heaved and pale strands of hair, escaped from their plaits, clung to the sheen of moisture on her arms and shoulders. She could not remain still another moment, could not bear the claustrophobic nearness of the walls around her. She had to escape, feel the fresh clean air against her skin. Just for a little while.

  Trey grinned in canine fashion, his long tail swinging.

  He stayed at his mistress’s side throughout the familiar journey to the undercroft, waited patiently while she fumbled with the key.

  Mara muttered a curse. Of all times to lose the connection between her brain and her fingers! Her father had posted an extra night guard, and that guard had picked this particular moment to cross the courtyard to the castle keep. She heard his measured steps approach. Another second and she would have to abandon her plan.

  The key slipped smoothly home.

  Perspiration had dampened Mara’s linen shift and the thin tunic she had thrown over it. The sun had not yet appeared to warm the chill night air, and a fitful breeze stirred. Mara shivered as she stepped into the still, fragrant air of the undercroft. Seconds later she ran along the dark passage-and experienced her first real fear.

  The threat from Baldwin was genuine. Her father had not locked up the castle or posted the extra guards merely to amuse himself. Furthermore, Mara better than anyone knew how angry Baldwin had been. It was an anger that would simmer until it boiled and boiled over.

  Her father had been right to take extra precautions. Stephen was right to worry about her. She was a fool even to have contemplated leaving the castle.

  Mara’s steps slowed to a walk. She should turn around and go back. Immediately. She would.

  After just one deep breath of fresh forest air. No one would see. No one would know. The boulders that concealed the entrance were only a few feet away.

  There wouldn’t have been time for a swim anyway, Mara realized. She had misjudged the time. Dawn had broken, for she could make out the massive forms of the trees that surrounded her. One deep breath and she would turn around and-

  Trey growled. The sound was deep in his throat, low and menacing. Mara knew the timbre of it. It was his warning. Of a stranger.

  Mara whirled and saw him, asleep on the slope of the hill. But even as she watched, the man stirred, rubbed his eyes.

  Before she could silence him, Trey barked. And then Mara was running, faster than she had ever run in her life. Making herself disappear, with a prayer on her lips that the armed stranger would think it had been a dream. Only a dream.

  Chapter Seventeen

  William woke in confusion. He expected to see the familiar faces of Rand and Wulfric. Instead, he found himself in foreign surroundings and had to pull himself together to recall where he was and how he had come to be there.

  He shook his head and scrubbed his hands over the stubble on his chin. He had wanted to lie down and rest for a moment. That moment had turned into an entire night. Wulfric was not going to be pleased at all. At least he had not been discovered. That was something. Maybe Wulfric wouldn’t be too mad-

  A dog barked.

  William froze. He couldn’t afford to be found. Baldwin would have his head. There was only one course of action. Pulling his dagger from his boot, he let his eyes search the surrounding trees.

  But there was nothing to be seen. There was no dog, not even the recent sign of one.

  He had heard the animal. There was doubt of that So, where had it gone? It hadn’t disappeared into thin air like smoke.

  William swiped at the ragged scar on his stubbled chin. He was a cautious man, and he had grown up in the area. His father had been one of Ranulf’s tenants, and William knew the lord raised deerhounds. Large, toothy, and aggressive deerhounds. If one lurked nearby, William wanted to know exactly where. He laid a hand atop the nearest boulder, carefully edged around its girth. and received the surprise of his life.

  Mara did not stop running until she reached the door back to the undercroft. Habit forced her to pause and listen, and she was glad she had. Muffled voices came to her: the castle steward’s and that of someone else, one of the cooks perhaps. She would have to wait until they had found what they sought and left.

  Or did she dare wait? Had the secret been discovered? Did someone pursue her? Worse, were they at this very instant hurrying to tell Baldwin of the passage beneath the castle walls?

  The full impact of what she had done, how she had compromised everyone’s safety, hit Mara with t
he force of a blow. She needed time to think. Sheltered in the darkness, she put her arms around Trey’s solid neck and leaned against the cold stone wall.

  Forcing herself to remain calm, Mara tried to recall precisely what had happened. The man had clearly been asleep when she stepped outside. He had still been rubbing his eyes when she turned and fled. Surely he hadn’t seen her.

  But he had certainly heard Trey bark. Unless he was deaf. If he had become curious about the dog he might investigate. Investigation might well reveal the opening and the tunnel back here.

  Mara knew she could not take the chance. She would have to tell her father the castle’s security had been compromised. She would have to admit she had used the secret entrance-had used it, furthermore, when she had . been expressly forbidden to leave the castle grounds. She did not relish her task.

  There was silence at last from within the undercroft, and Mara entered cautiously. Footsteps dragging, she crossed the storage area and squeezed through the door into the bright sunlight. She had to shade her eyes as she trudged up the long flight of steps to the great hall.

  As she climbed, her sense of urgency began to pass. In spite of her brief glimpse of the man, Mara remembered his peasant clothes. Whoever he was, he was surely not one of Baldwin’s men. Thus, even if the passage had been discovered, it had been found by no one of great consequence. The worst the man might do was try to sell his information to the earl, or to some other thief or bandit. By then Ullswater would be prepared. Her former path to freedom would be sealed, but the castle would be safe.

  Mara took a deep breath and pushed through the door to the great hall.

  William had taken only a few steps into the passageway when he realized what he had chanced upon. The significance of the finding took his breath away.

  William recalled rumors he had heard as a boy, that Ullswater had a secret entrance. He and his young playmates had spent many an hour searching for it, planned the raid they would make, the knights they would vanquish, the spoils they would take when the castle was theirs: A boy’s fantasy, now a man’s reality.

  William could scarce believe his luck. He no longer feared to face his earl; he looked forward to it. He had the best possible news he could bring. Baldwin would reward him for it.

  Without further hesitation, William turned back toward the sunlight. He would have to find Rand and Wulfric at once.

  It was his lucky day, no doubt about it. Ahead and off to his left, William saw a flash of red approaching through the sun-dappled gloom of the trees: the tunic Wulfric had appropriated from some hapless peasant He hailed the knight with a grin.

  “Where the devil have you-?”

  “There’s no time to waste on your bad temper, Wulfric,” he said. “Where’s Rand?”

  “Packing up. I came to find you. Where were you all-?”

  “Look at this,” William interrupted for the second time. “Come and look at this.”

  Wulfric’s main strength was his prowess with a sword, and the power in the massive arms that he used to wield his weapon. He had never been noted for his cleverness. Yet even he could not fail to see the importance of his comrade’s find. A smile spread across his broad, coarse features, and emerged from the gray-flecked dark of his beard.

  “This is good, Will. You done good.”

  Even as William nodded in agreement, however, he experienced a twinge of apprehension. Where had that dog gone? From whence had he come? William cast about him again, keen eyes alert for any sign of the animal’s recent passing. Nothing.

  There was only one place from which the beast might have come, and disappeared again as quickly: the tunnel. It was the only explanation. Furthermore, the dog had probably been there in the first place because it had accompanied someone-someone who had been warned by the dog’s bark. Someone who had seen William and fled back the way he had come. At this very moment, he might be sounding the alarm. In the space of a heartbeat, William saw his incredible good luck, his dream of success, turn to dust. Unless.

  “Wulfric, listen. You’re going to have to go without me. You and Rand ride back, fast as you can, and tell the earl what I’ve found. Tell him.” William hesitated, allowing the plan to fully form. “Tell him to bring everyone, at once, right to the castle gates. Tell him that when he gets here, they’ll open. If luck continues to be on my side, they’ll open for the Earl of Cumbria.”

  “But, Will, what-?”

  “Just go, damnit! Get the horses and ride!”

  William waited only long enough to make sure Wulfric was well and truly on his way. Then he turned and, in spite of the tunnel’s Stygian darkness, ran as fast as he dared. All that was against him now was time.

  Mara had not found her father in the hall. Her mother claimed he had gone to the kennels to check on his favorite bitch, mere hours away from whelping. Almost able to see the question form on her mother’s tongue, Mara hurried away. Not only did she not wish to have to admit her folly and disobedience twice, but her sense of urgency had returned.

  Ranulf spied his daughter as she strode swiftly in his direction. A smile formed on his lips. It died almost at once.

  “What is it, Mara? What’s wrong?”

  Mara faced her father and looked him squarely in the eye. “I’ve disobeyed you, Father. I’ve used the passage from the undercroft. More than once. Today may have been once too often.”

  Ranulf did not betray his dismay by as much as the flicker of an eyelid. “What has happened, Daughter?” he asked.

  “I may have been seen. There was a man sleeping near the entrance at the foot of the hill. I’m fairly certain he didn’t see me, but Trey barked. If he came looking for the dog.”

  There was no need to finish, nor was there time. Ranulf had already gone into action.

  “Douglas!” The lord of Ullswater waved at his old friend and companion, well past his prime, yet a willing and worthy campaigner. When the venerable knight had joined him, Ranulf explained the situation. He brusquely issued orders.

  “Round up the rest of my men-at-arms, such as they are.” Ranulf wondered silently if he was going to regret the attitude of laxity he had allowed to flourish during the present king’s peaceful reign. “Put a half dozen more men on the walls. Bring the rest and meet me in the undercroft.”

  Although puzzled by the last command, Douglas knew better than to question his lord. Mara watched him hasten away to do her father’s bidding, and she fell in step behind her long-striding parent.

  Please God, let it have been only a curious peasant, Mara silently prayed. Then: Hurry back, Stephen. Hurry.

  William felt himself teeter on the edge of panic. The totally lightless passage had finally ended in what he assumed was a door. But how to open it? Frantically, he groped in the darkness, knowing time might be growing short. If the alarm had been raised, someone would be coming at any moment Perhaps it would be better simply to run.

  Without the slightest sound, the hidden door suddenly swung wide. Even the dim light of the undercroft caused William to blink, but he did not waste time allowing his eyes to adjust to the light, or to wonder what he had pushed to effect his release. He stepped into the room, nudged the door closed behind him, and peered cautiously around a large pile of baskets.

  Halfway down the long wall, William saw the door to his freedom, rimmed in the morning’s light. He did not hesitate to wonder if he was going to make it or not; he knew he must simply move quickly, or be caught. He was mere steps from his goal when he heard the heavy tread of booted feet swiftly approach.

  Ranulf threw the door wide and strode into the storage room. He looked in the direction of the concealed doorway, his attention so riveted on the heap of baskets he barely noticed the slight commotion off to his right. He glanced over his shoulder to see one of the servants kneeling to gather scattered potatoes into a bowl.

  “Sor-sorry, m’lord,” the man muttered. “Y` startled me. I’ll be out o‘ yer way in a blink.”

  Ranulf did not bother to ack
nowledge the man. “The door’s over there,” he said to those who had accompanied him, and indicated the direction with the point of his sword. “Barricade it. Then search this room. Mara, come with me.”

  Their security had apparently not been breached. Mara’s relief was so great she did not fear what was to come. Her father’s harshest words would be nothing compared to the condemnation she had already heaped upon herself. Considerably lighter of heart, she followed her father from the undercroft.

  Neither gave further notice to the faceless servant who slipped out behind them.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The fruit trees were fully in bloom; their frothy blossoms trembled in the late afternoon breeze. Roses, full blown, bobbed their heavy heads. Mara raised her face to the day’s last sun, one hand atop Trey’s big head, and closed her eyes. She breathed deeply in an attempt to capture the familiar peace of her mother’s garden. It was futile. Mara rose and paced the flagstone path.

  Her actions were inexcusable. No wonder her parents had insisted it was time to wed. She was spoiled and willful, not to mention irresponsible. It was not helpful at all to remind herself that she had confessed her disobedience to her father, or to know that precautions had been taken: Both the secret door in the undercroft and the tunnel mouth had been barricaded. No enemy would be able to take advantage of her indiscretion.

  No, that knowledge did not help to soothe her conscience. Such precautions should never have been necessary in the first place. Silently berating herself, Mara turned at the end of the garden walk and headed back to the castle keep.

  At least there had been one bright spot in her day: a message from Stephen. His preparations for the wedding were nearly complete. In a day and a half he would arrive with a small entourage to escort her and her parents to Bellingham. Her new life would begin.

  A life of duty and responsibility, Mara reminded herself. A life far different from the one she had led up to now. The carefree days of childhood were gone forever. She was a woman, and must act like one.