A pang went through me at his question, for I knew my grandmother must be in quite a state by now, even though I had done my best to push my worries aside. But still, to be missing overnight, with no way of sending her word that I was safe! It was a terrible thing, but I had no way of remedying the situation. “My grandmother,” I replied. “I sent word to let her know I had set forth for Harrow Hall, but that is all she knows.”
“Poor woman.” To my surprise, the steward laid a comforting hand on my shoulder and gave me a single pat. “She must be worried terribly for you, but imagine her joy when you return home safe and unharmed.”
A joy that would be even greater if I could somehow manage to work out an arrangement with Lord Greymount. Such an outcome seemed to be quite the impossibility at the moment, given that he wouldn’t even see me.
But I summoned a smile, and soon after Master Merryk went away.
* * *
The storm raged on that night, and the morning that followed. And still the snow fell, and the wind howled, although all was warm and safe within. My worry increased with each passing hour. Surely by now my grandmother must think me dead, for no one could live in this weather, and she had no way of knowing that I had reached the castle and was now housed within, enjoying a life of comfort I had never known before.
Because my meals were brought to me, and a warm bath that second day as well. The long hours with nothing to do were the worst of it, but I made do as I could, thinking of how I might repay Lord Greymount if I could get him to agree to my plan, and tidying the room, and sitting at the window and watching the snow pile ever higher. I never saw anyone leave the castle — not that I expected them to. Even a strong man on a stronger horse would not survive for very long in that maelstrom. I could not recall ever seeing a storm of such ferocity, or such duration. Old Hamm, who owned the tavern, sometimes spoke of a devil storm that had swept over North Eredor before I was even born, a storm that had frozen the River Elskar solid and covered the land in so much snow that people froze in their homes, and the ice persisted in the shadows of trees and walls until almost midsummer.
I had always thought him to be exaggerating. Now I could only worry that such a storm had come again.
Despite the drafts that leaked in past the casement, I sat at the window, watching the snow blow past. Indeed, it seemed almost a living thing, that if I only looked closely enough, I could see shapes writhing and forming in those blowing curtains of ice.
A knock came at the door, and I started. Then I rose to my feet. “Come in,” I said, although I found myself wondering at the timing of this visitor. It was not yet dark enough outside for Master Merryk to be bringing me my supper.
He entered, but waited just inside the doorway. “Mistress Sendris,” he said, quite formally.
For some reason, my heart began to beat more quickly. “Yes, Master Merryk?”
Although I thought I had begun to learn something of his expressions during the past few days, I could see nothing in his features in that particular moment to inform me of the purpose of this visit. But then he said, “His lordship will see you now.”
Chapter 3
It was a good thing that my hand rested on the back of the chair where I had been sitting, for I needed it to steady myself. “His lordship…?” I faltered.
“He has decided that he will speak with you.” For the first time, a tiny glint entered Lorn Merryk’s eyes. “That is, if you still wish to speak to him.”
“Of course,” I said, doing my best to recover from my shock. “That is — that is very kind of him.”
“Ah, well.” These two syllables were accompanied by a lift of the steward’s shoulders. “He has decided that he wants to see for himself the young woman who has exhibited such a display of will.”
That, I feared, was a polite way of putting it. As my grandmother had often lamented, I did possess a strong stubborn streak. It was not that I ever intended to be willful, more that I tended to find myself wondering why others did not see the common sense of my own wishes.
But no matter. Lord Greymount had asked for me, and that was the important thing. Unconsciously, I reached up to smooth my hair, then looked down to make sure the belt of linked brass medallions I wore was not hanging askew.
Master Merryk waited near the door, a faint smile on his lips. Perhaps he thought me vain for making sure I would be presentable for my meeting with his lordship. I did not think that vanity had much to do with it. Rather, I did not want to appear like some disheveled village girl in front of such a grand lord, especially when I must ask him to grant me such a very large favor.
Hoping that I would pass muster, I went to the steward. “I am ready.”
“This way, mistress.”
For the first time since my sojourn in the castle began, I stepped outside my door. As that one fleeting glimpse had told me, the corridor was constructed of grey stone, with tapestries — some fairly bright and new, others worn and faded — hanging at more or less regular intervals. The floor in my room was covered in rugs from Keshiaar and other exotic locales, but beneath my feet here was only bare stone, chilly through the thin soles of the borrowed slippers I wore.
We traversed that hallway and came to a great stone staircase. Master Merryk led me up one flight of steps, then another. I began to wonder how large the castle truly was. In that moment, I rather thought that every house in Kerolton — even Master Wisengot’s two-story home — could have fit quite neatly inside Harrow Hall.
But after climbing yet another set of stairs, we came to a large landing. On the left side was a pair of double doors, carved with the shapes of twining branches and flying birds. Hawks, they looked like.
Master Merryk rapped smartly on that door, then called out, “I have her here, my lord.”
A pause, followed by a deep voice saying, “Have her come in.”
Something about that voice sent a small chill down my back. Perhaps it was simply that Lord Greymount had rather taken on the aspect of a mythical creature during the past few days, and so hearing him speak startled me, made me realize he truly was a living man. Also, now that it had come time to beard the lion in his den, so to speak, an understanding of the depths of my audacity came over me. Who was I, a simple girl from Kerolton, to demand that the lord of Harrow Hall listen to my requests?
Too late to turn back now, unfortunately. Master Merryk pushed the door open and said, “Go on.”
I turned beseeching eyes upon him. “You will not see me in?”
“His lordship wishes to see you alone.” Tone gentle, he added, “Was this not what you wished for?”
Well, it was. I could not show any hesitation now, not after my former intransigence. I nodded at the steward, then walked past him and through the doorway. As soon as I was inside, I heard the door shut behind me.
Like the rest of the castle, this suite — for it must be a suite, as I saw more doors opening off a short corridor — had been constructed of grey stone. The effect was somewhat livelier here, however, for all the tapestries appeared to be in good repair. Likewise, the rugs beneath my feet glowed with rich colors of crimson and dark blue and deep green.
The hallway I traversed opened into a large room, much larger than the bedchamber I had occupied for the past few days, although that space had seemed inordinately oversized for just one person to inhabit. At one side was a large hearth of stone carved into motifs similar to those that had decorated the door to the suite, of flying birds and graceful branches, while a row of windows had been cut into the wall directly ahead of me. Silhouetted against one of those windows was the tall figure of a man.
He turned as I entered the room, and I had to keep myself from catching my breath. Oh, no, he was not deformed at all. Rather the opposite. I had to admit to myself that my experience was not terribly large, but I knew I had never seen a more handsome man. His heavy dark hair swept back from his brow, and his eyes were equally dark, piercing under his black brows. Some might have argued that his no
se was too long, or perhaps his lips somewhat thin, but the combination of all those features was quite enough to take my breath away — especially when I had been expecting something so very different.
“Mistress Sendris, I presume?” he inquired, the ironic flip at the end of his question telling me that he was not overly impressed by my behavior.
I nodded and moved forward a few steps. From that spot in the center of the room, I could feel the heat from the fire, far larger and more impressive than the one I’d left burning in my bedchamber. “Yes, my lord. Thank you so much for agreeing to see me — ”
“Yes, that,” he cut in, clearly having little use for my pleasantries. “You gave me little choice, it seems.”
Color flooded my cheeks. Oh, why had I been so stubborn? Standing there, and having him look at me with that sardonic tilt to his eyebrows, quite made me want to melt into the floor. But since I had come here on this errand, I must see it through to its conclusion, no matter what Lord Greymount might say…and no matter how he might say it.
“I am sorry for that, my lord. But I do believe that when you hear why I have come here, you will understand why I did not wish to confide in Master Merryk.”
“Indeed? That sounds rather dire.” Lord Greymount gestured toward a table a few feet away from him, one on which several costly goblets of cut glass and a matching decanter sat. “Perhaps you should have a drink with me first, to give you courage.”
I had never drunk spirits — or wine — in my life. Cider, of course, and a small mug of ale at the village’s Midwinter celebration, but nothing more than that. Still, I did not want his estimation of me to go any lower than it already had…if that was even possible. “Thank you, my lord. That sounds lovely.”
A knowing smirk played around the edges of his mobile lips, but he said nothing, only went over to the table and poured a measure of deep, ruby-colored liquid into each of the goblets. He then handed one to me, and I took it, praying that I wouldn’t drop the precious glass. Surely it had to be worth more than everything my grandmother and I owned.
“To communication,” he said, raising his goblet.
I raised mine as well, then allowed myself a very small sip. What passed over my tongue was unlike anything I had tasted before — redolent of raisins, but somehow sweeter, richer. My eyes widened, but I somehow kept myself from taking another, larger swallow. I needed to keep my wits about me, and I could tell that the liquor, whatever it might be, was far stronger than anything I’d ever drunk before.
From the slight narrowing of Lord Greymount’s eyes, I could tell that he had noticed my reaction. But he forbore from commenting, and said only, “Will you not sit, Mistress Sendris?” With his free hand, he indicated one of two chairs upholstered in cut velvet that flanked the small table where the decanter sat.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly — ”
“I fear I must insist.”
The steel in his tone propelled me forward, and I seated myself with some reluctance. Certainly I had never thought to find myself sitting in his lordship’s presence, but his invitation had not left any room for protest.
A moment later, he sat as well, then poured himself some more of the ruby liquid. This close, he really was quite overwhelming. I couldn’t help but breathe in the warm, spicy scent that seemed to emanate from the doublet of dark wool he wore, or notice the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his legs as he stretched them out before him. Truly, I had never seen a man like him before. He made even Vianna Willar’s handsome betrothed look like a pale, weak thing.
But I could not allow myself to become distracted. I had no idea if his lordship could detect his effect on me, and I resolved not to let that matter, one way or another. At the moment, he seemed more amused than annoyed, and while I did not particularly enjoy being seen as a source of amusement, better that than to have him angry with me.
I did take another very small sip of the wine — or whatever it was — before speaking. “Again, my lord, I must thank you for your patience with me. I never intended to trespass on your hospitality in such a way.”
“No, probably not,” he agreed, gaze shifting to the ever-blowing snow outside the window before returning to me. “That, I suppose, is in the hands of the gods, and they don’t generally do very well at explaining themselves.”
Better to overlook that casual blasphemy. I had never heard anyone criticize the gods before, but then, I had never before been in the presence of a nobleman. Perhaps they were allowed license not given to commoners.
Because he was watching me with some expectation, I knew I could not waste more time with pleasantries, or apologies for the way I had more or less stranded myself here. I folded my hands in my lap, then said, “My lord, it embarrasses me to make this request of you, but I have no other recourse. This month, and the autumn which preceded it, were a very difficult time for my grandmother and myself. We — ”
“What of your husband?” his lordship interrupted. He glanced at my left hand, which was quite bare, but I knew that did not necessarily indicate an unmarried status. Many of the men in Kerolton did not have the means to purchase a ring for their wives.
“I have no husband.”
Lord Greymount’s eyebrows lifted at that revelation, as if he did not quite believe me. For some reason, I found his astonishment rather gratifying. Did he think me fair, and wonder why no man had yet claimed my hand?
But that was foolishness on my part. I was so far beneath a man such as Phelan Greymount as to be nigh invisible. More likely that he was surprised to find a young woman of the advanced age of twenty-one to be unmarried. Most of the girls in my village were wed and mothers by the time they were eighteen. I, on the other hand, was not seen as suitable by most of the men of Kerolton, with a mother who had disappeared into the forest when her child was not even three years old, and a father who had never been named. I bore the name of my mother, and her family, and not the man who had sired me, for no one knew who he was.
Yet another secret my mother had taken with her when she vanished.
“Ah,” said Lord Greymount, after a rather awkward pause. “Then it seems the men of your village must be blind, but we will leave that aside for now. You were speaking of a difficult autumn?”
Once again my cheeks flushed, but I ignored that obvious sign of my embarrassment and said, “Yes. We had to repair the roof of our cottage, and a wolf got Sissi — ”
“Sissi?”
“Our goat.”
“Unfortunate.”
Oh, he was laughing at me, wasn’t he? More than ever I wished I could take the goblet he’d given me and drain its contents, so I might gain some much-needed courage from the strong liquor. I ignored the impulse, however, and went on, “We are not rich, my lord. Much of what we do is in barter, but we cannot barter to pay our taxes.”
At that word, he seemed to stiffen. “So that is what this is all about?”
I experienced a sinking sensation somewhere in my midsection, for his tone had grown quite cool. “Yes, my lord. I came here to beg for clemency, to ask if you would but extend us some credit for a few months. Just — just until the summer comes again, and I am able to gather the materials I need for my dyes. Once I am able to sell more fabric for ready coin, then I would be able to repay you.”
Silence. He regarded me carefully for a moment, then got up from his chair and went to the window. I was not sure whether I should follow him or not, so I remained seated where I was, fingers knotted around one another in my lap. Despite the relative warmth of the room, those fingers felt to me cold as ice, chill as the frozen world outside.
Still staring out at that frigid landscape, Lord Greymount said, “And what would you have me do, Mistress Sendris? For the Mark expects his measure from his lords, whether or not the tenants of those lords pay their fair share.”
“I — ” It seemed wrong to be speaking to him like that over my shoulder, so I rose from my seat and went over to the window as well. It was much colder t
here, and I had to fight to keep myself from shivering. “I know it is a great deal to ask. I do not like to make an exception of myself, but I had no other choice.”
He didn’t move. The wintry light streamed over his features, accenting the long, elegant sweep of his nose, the determined jut of his chin.
No, you shall not admire him, I told myself fiercely. It is clear that he is about to refuse you, even though the sum involved is probably less than the cost of one of his boots.
Then he did turn toward me. I saw no softening in the lines of his mouth, and I braced myself. Would he also throw me out in the snow after he had refused my request? No, that was a foolish notion. He could have done that days ago if he had been so inclined.
“How much?” he asked.
My cold fingers knotted themselves in the warm woolen folds of my borrowed gown. “T-two silver pieces, my lord.”
“A staggering sum, to be sure.”
He was mocking me. I repressed the urge to snap at him, to tell him that what might seem like nothing to him was a great deal to me, to my grandmother. Instead, I stood there in silence, knowing there was nothing I could say to sway him. I did not know this man, but I could already tell that he was not one who had much patience for begging or pleading.
Then he said, “Tell me, Mistress Sendris. What would you do for those two silver pieces?”
“‘Do’?” I repeated, puzzled.
“Yes, do. Surely you do not expect me to give you those two silver pieces in exchange for nothing?”
I tilted my chin up at him. “I already told you, my lord, that I would repay the sum in a few months, after I have time to replenish my stock and sell some of my goods.”
“Ah, that. There are some who would say that summer is a good deal more than just a ‘few’ months off, but rather half the year. Do you intend to pay interest on this loan, since it will extend for such a lengthy amount of time?”
The Wolf of Harrow Hall (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 7) Page 4