People pressed and jostled each other to see us. Their faces expressed curiosity or boredom. I tried to smile out at them. It felt like such a farce. They didn’t know us. We didn’t know them. I barely knew the man at my side. Yet, we all played our parts. They sent off their lord and champion in grand style and I acted the role of a dutiful wife left to tend the castle in my husband’s place.
My chest ached with fear. Tomas might not come back. Men fell in battle all the time. He could return to find my management skills lacking. Darnay could hate me.
I shook away the thoughts. No. I couldn’t think that way. I glanced around at the faces watching us. The Kurios placed me here for a reason. I needed to trust him and obey.
We stepped beyond the wall separating the baileys. I gasped at the sight. Easily three hundred men and a hundred horses crowded the space. Voices rebounded from the stone walls, intermingled with the neighs and whinnies of the mounts. Early morning sun glinted off polished shields and weaponry among the array of colored livery: green, gold, red, brown, midnight blue and yellow. Our arrival elicited a general cheer followed by a scramble to mount. The volume rose to such a level I would have had to yell to be heard.
Antano led Tomas’ mount forward.
After squeezing my fingers a final time, Tomas dropped my hand to don his helmet. Within moments, he was mounted and out of my reach. My thoughts rushed forward, filling my head with questions I wanted answered and things I wanted him to know before he left.
But, it was too late.
The herald blew the signal to ride.
Tomas, a now familiar figure in plain armor among the many others of the same, turned his horse toward the gate. He might have looked back once. I thought he did, but he might have been checking one of his fellow rider’s distance from him. Regardless, I raised my hand in farewell.
Kurios, spare him. Place a hedge of protection around him. Please bring him back to me.
Feminine laughter broke through my prayer.
“Don’t worry, child, he will return. Either dead or alive, he will return.”
I turned to find Rolendis and three strange women standing in the shadow of the gate. Their bright silk and satin skirts peeked out from beneath fur-lined cloaks. The widow’s cloak draped about her shoulders, unfastened, displaying the front of her elaborately embroidered bodice.
“Hope that he is dead when he does. For if he isn’t, you will wish you were.”
“Ignore them.” Moriah slid an arm through mine. “Rolendis does not mourn her husband as we would mourn ours. Would you walk with me, my lady?”
I nodded, uncertain my tongue could form words without something foolish bursting forth.
She drew me back toward the keep, but instead of walking up to the main doors, she led me along the wall to the right.
“There are some things you need to know.” She dropped my arm to open a gray door. It blended into the wall so that the eye passed it over if one wasn’t looking for it. “We will have more privacy in the gardens.”
I had not realized how I missed greenery until the moment I set eyes on the paradise beyond the door. Barren climbing rose vines, plants of every shape and size, trellises of grape vines, fruit trees, and an herb garden patterned out in a wheel greeted me. I could feel the tension in my shoulders easing even as I took a deep breath of the familiar scents of earth and life. Slipping into the slumber of winter, it wasn’t as fragrant as full bloom. Still, if the sounds of hooves on stone and the voices didn’t drift over the wall, I could close my eyes and half believe I stood in my mother’s garden while she still lived.
“My lady, you are in danger.”
My eyes popped open. “What?”
“You are in danger here.” Moriah’s eyes searched my face urgently. “Rolendis is bent on revenge. Kolbent’s death robbed her of power, rank, fortune, everything she sold her body to gain. She intends to regain what she lost. The fastest way to do that is through your husband.”
“Are you saying she will try to kill me?” Rolendis didn’t seem cold enough for that. Bitter, jealous, and manipulative perhaps, but I couldn’t see her as a murderess.
“No, she will not wield the knife. However, she would willingly hand you over to someone who wants to get rid of you for other reasons.”
I peered into her face. “Who would want that?”
“I don’t know who she will enlist, with Jorndar restrained and watched. But, she will be seeking a way.”
I studied Moriah. She was the wife of one of my husband’s friends. At least I thought they were friends. Mulling over Sir Rathenridge and Tomas’ exchanges, they certainly acted like friends. But, I hadn’t heard Tomas mention Moriah beyond the single message of greetings she sent through her husband. Was she a friend of Tomas’ or another woman bent on stirring up trouble?
Her face seemed honest enough. If only I could see through to the character beneath.
“What do you think I should do about it?”
“Come home with me.” She smiled warmly. “We can leave word for Irvaine and escape this place. I would love the company. The children enjoy visitors. You will be safe, and we can look for our husbands’ return far from Rolendis and her poisonous tongue.”
“I have to wait for the caravan to arrive. Irvaine’s son and another child are counting on my protection when they arrive.”
“Then you must wait. When will the caravan arrive?”
“I don’t know. It could be any time in the next few days.”
Genuine concern pulled at her brow. “I can linger no longer than a day. My children expect my return by a set date. If I don’t appear when I said, they will grow distraught. You can always follow after.”
“Even if the caravan arrives in time, I need to stay here. Irvaine requested I watch over the running of the vargar for him. He does not trust Horacian.”
Moriah’s eyebrows drew together. “Horacian is harmless.”
“Perhaps, but I need to stay.”
She studied my face. “Irvaine expects a lot of you, doesn’t he?”
I considered his requests for a moment. “No more than I would expect of myself. I have experience with crops and managing, but caring for the children frightens me a bit. Although I have been around younger children, I have never been the sole caregiver for one, let alone two.”
Moriah’s face softened. “Feed them, provide security, consistency, and above all else love them. Oh, and don’t be afraid to say no.” She squeezed my hand gently. “You will do well.”
I wanted to ask her how she could know that, but before I could, a servant approached from the keep. The girl bobbed in and out of a curtsey with a wobble. She met my gaze with the unashamed attitude of one much younger than her covered hair and long skirt indicated.
“My lady, Steward Horacian is seeking you. He wishes to escort you on a tour of the fields at your earliest convenience.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at her. The corners of her mouth lifted in reply. “Please notify him I shall meet him in the outer bailey.”
Forgetting to acknowledge my instruction, she turned and bounded off the way she had come.
“Beware of insolence among the servants. Rolendis plays favorites.”
I watched the girl-child’s retreat. “I will keep that in mind.”
Rolendis might have played favorites, but I doubted she favored a maid as innocent-mannered as that one.
“Farewell, Lady Irvaine.” Moriah took my hands. “Should you need shelter or support, you send word my way.”
“I shall.”
After a final squeeze, she dropped my hands, curtseyed, and left in the direction of the keep.
I lingered a bit longer in the garden to pick apart the mess of emotions roiling in my gut. Seeking a few moments of prayer and quiet seemed the best way to hush the chaos.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter Fourteen
Touring the fields brought my village’s past into stark clarity. I witnessed well-tended fields, maintained e
quipment, efficient workers, and the bounty that came with hard work, good ground, and the seasonable weather of the past few years. Wisenvale’s land was just as arable. If my cousin had only left us to ourselves, we would have made it with food to spare. His yearly tax of the harvest had cost us more than he realized.
I paused at the thought. No. He had known. I had told him repeatedly.
“Then there is the seed that we purchased from Lord Wisten last year.” Horacian pointed to an entry in the ledger before me. I shifted the book so I could see it more clearly in the afternoon sunlight pouring in the great hall’s window. A sum completely out of proportion to the amount of grain received jumped out from the page. The handwriting of the entry was obviously different from the normal recorder’s.
“Who kept the accounts then?”
“I did, my lady. Why do you ask?”
“You didn’t make this entry.”
“That is true. The late Lord Irvaine handled that transaction himself.”
“And you didn’t question the obvious overpayment?” I studied Horacian’s face. He blushed.
“It wasn’t my place, my lady. I noticed the disproportion, but no one questioned my late master and kept his position.”
“Did this happen every year?”
“Now that you mention it, it did. I also noticed that Lord Wisten left with most of the grain he brought with him.”
“Bribery?” I wondered aloud, not really expecting Horacian to answer.
“Possibly, my lady. The late Lord Irvaine’s dealings with King Trentham were not easy. Trentham kept demanding more than my master wanted to give. He was even reluctant to defend when the call for arms came. He dallied with the idea of joining the rebels. Marrying my Rolendis changed his mind. He threw his lot in with the King.”
I frowned. My cousin sided with King Trentham then. Trentham demanded complete loyalty. Even unsubstantiated rumors of wavering could lead to the stripping of title and lands. If Orwin learned the late Lord Irvaine seriously considered joining the rebels, he would have leverage. Armed with proof, he would have drained the coffers dry. Considering the prosperity I witnessed since my arrival, Orwin didn’t have proof.
“When was the last inventory of your winter stores?”
“A month ago. Last harvest brought in far more than we needed.”
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I need to know how much Kyrenton can spare.”
Horacian’s expression spoke eloquently of his disbelief. “My lady?”
“Wisenvale is now under Lord Irvaine’s protection. Lord Wisten left us inadequate stores to last the winter. Lord Irvaine wishes to know how much Kyrenton can spare without hardship. We are not asking for your seed grain, just the excess of your winter stores.”
“I will see what I can do, my lady.”
“Thank you, Horacian.”
The following day passed swiftly. I barely gathered two moments together during the daylight hours to realize I missed my new husband.
At night I fell into the bed we shared for a single night and found myself wishing he rested there too. It was strange how I longed for his support and company. In our brief time together he had become a friend.
The third day dawned in cold light and muted silence. I rolled over to resume sleeping when the sound of raised voices in the inner bailey jarred me awake again. Men and horses raised a racket below. It was still too early for that much activity in the inner bailey.
Grabbing the fur-lined cloak next to the bed, I lunged toward the window. I thrust aside the heavy curtain which promptly fell closed again behind me. Then, I threw open the shutters and stuck my head out. The window opening overlooked the outer bailey, offering a view of the gate into the town beyond. Even in the gray dawning light, I could spot a wagon easing through the gapping gate.
The caravan was here.
Abandoning the window, I flung the curtains aside again and dove for my clothing. I dressed quickly. My fingers shook with cold so that I fumbled tying my second boot, but I managed at last. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, I almost plowed into Horacian on his way up. I hit the stairwell wall a bit hard with my shoulder instead.
“Pardon, but the caravan is here, my lady.” He took in my rumpled gown, twisted surcote, and unbound hair with widened eyes. “I see you already know.”
“I heard the noise.” I tugged at the surcote in a futile effort to straighten it.
“I shall plan on you not being available until the afternoon then. You will want to settle Master Darnay before we resume our tour of southern borders.”
“Whom do I speak with about quarters?” We hadn’t reached that aspect of the estate management.
“Sarena Farwyn oversees the room assignments.”
I straightened my shoulders and pushed from my mind the fact I looked more like a wayward child than a lady of the manor. “Have her attend me and Master Darnay in my quarters in a half-hour. Also, see that a proper fire is built in the hearth there. Master Darnay will need warmth to fend off the cold of his journey.”
Horacian smiled, a slight lift to the corners of his mouth.
I blinked in astonishment. It was the first positive expression I had seen on his face since his obvious relief at Tomas not punishing him for handing the account books to Sir Jorndar.
“I shall see to it myself, my lady.” He bowed and continued up the stairs.
Instead of pelting down the rest of the steps, I took a moment to right myself. I finally reached the great hall a few minutes later with my surcote straight and rumpled gown covered. I could do nothing about my hair, having left my leather ties in my room, but I figured I was within the acceptable range of propriety.
Crossing the empty hall at a trot, I reached the outer doors as the last of the wagons halted beyond them. Men jumped down, women scurried about, and a handful of soldiers moved among them. I saw no children.
Then the first wagon rolled off toward the stables. Beyond, I spotted two small figures, unnaturally still among the chaos of movement.
“Darnay?” The name fell from my mouth in my surprise.
They both turned my way. Two pairs of almost identical dark eyes sought my face while a sharp breeze stirred the dark curls framing the girl’s features. The boy regarded me impassively as I approached, but the girl stepped closer to her cousin. Darnay clutched at the wooden sword in his hand.
“Darnay? Elise?”
Darnay studied my face with intensity so like his father my stomach tightened in a sudden desire to see Tomas’ face. “Grandma?”
A woman detached herself from the group carrying three bags stuffed so tight the leather strained at the seams. “What is the problem?”
“I am Brielle.” I met the woman’s curiosity with a smile. Darnay stepped back into her skirts, and Elise crowded behind him. “I am Lord Irvaine’s new wife.”
“Her hair is red.” The girl’s eyes locked on my wild hair.
“Hush, Elise, don’t be rude.” The woman settled a lithe hand on the mop of dark curls on the child’s head.
“But it is.”
“I know.” She smiled down at her charge. Then she turned her gaze to my face. “Tomas asked that I give you this.” She pulled a piece of thrice folded parchment from her belt. She handed it to me with a warm smile.
I smoothed it flat.
Beloved, she is my mother. Make her welcome for me. Tomas.
“He sends his love.”
I looked up to discover the woman watching me. I returned the regard. She obviously wasn’t a woman to fuss about appearances with her thick, gray-laced hair pulled back into a sensible plait. I could see why when I really looked. Buried beneath the laughter wrinkles and the usual ravages of time was the fine bone structure of a natural beauty. Her bright eyes and warm smile gave her an appearance of a woman much younger even now.
“I am sorry.” I averted my eyes. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“He didn’t warn you, did he? A great man for the importan
t decisions, but he forgets to share all the extra bits.”
“He said that Darnay and Elise would come with the supply caravan.”
“But he didn’t mention me.” She laughed. “Yes, that is typical of him. He has grown too accustomed to working with soldiers. I am Anise Dyrease.” She offered a handclasp in greeting, which I accepted. “When did he tell you about Darnay?”
“I guessed, sort of.”
She nodded knowingly. “He isn’t hiding things. He just doesn’t remember to share.”
A wrench of longing for Tomas caught me unawares. I swallowed at the sudden tightness in my throat. “I know.” Straightening my shoulders, I lifted my head to smile at my mother-in-law only to find her watching me with keen eyes.
Instead of commenting, she nodded.
“Are we going to sleep on a real bed tonight?” Darnay asked her.
“If you wish,” I answered.
He frowned at me in confusion.
“Darnay, say hello to your new mother.” Anise propelled him forward with a gentle push between his shoulders.
He obediently bowed and offered me a hand in friendship, the one not clutching the toy sword. His dark eyes clearly communicated his unease.
I clasped his hand firmly. “I am pleased to meet you, Master Darnay.”
Darnay squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Father said I am to call you mother, but–” He lost his nerve.
“You can call me Brielle.”
Profound relief passed behind the boy’s eyes, but like his father, little emotion appeared in his features. I found the boy’s reserve disquieting in many ways. It hinted at the difficulty of his young life. To grow up without a mother and rarely see one’s father appeared to have aged him beyond his seasons. I wanted to hug him. I wondered if he looked like his father when he laughed. Most pressing of all was the desire to show him all the love my parents gave me.
“Have you eaten this morning?” I took care to address the question to the two children.
“Not yet. We traveled all night,” Elise offered without emerging from the safety of the woman’s skirts.
Duty: a novel of Rhynan Page 10