When the scrub began to come into the hall in loads, Annalyla and Maude had built up the fire in the pit so much that the hall was quite warm, and they beat at the shrubs in order to shake off the water so they would start to dry out. But the looming issue of cleaning up their sleeping chambers in the keep was hanging over their heads, so the women left some soldiers in charge of drying out the sea scrub while they collected buckets of water, lye soap, and brooms that the quartermaster had brought along, and headed into the keep to clean.
In truth, Annalyla had never felt more useful or more industrious. It was a joyful chore that she undertook with gusto. And as the rain began to lighten and the sun began peeking out of the clouds, Annalyla swept floors and scrubbed down walls, trying to make the old keep livable.
Trying to make the old bones of Baiadepaura Castle a home.
But the worst was yet to come.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Her name was Mawgwen.
She was a very old woman with an old crow perched on her shoulder, and she came into the bailey of Baiadepaura with five other timid women. They were followed by Graham, who was literally herding the small group and had all the way from the town.
It was nearing the nooning meal and it hadn’t taken Graham but a few hours to locate enough women willing to take quite a bit of money to serve at Baiadepaura under Tenner de Velt and the Earl of Tiverton. Graham was able to convince the women that the coin was worth the risk, and that there were so many soldiers at Baiadepaura that any ghost would be foolish to show himself. But the boast about the soldiers didn’t do any more for Graham’s cause than the lure of money did.
It was the only reason the women had come.
Jobs were scarce along this stretch of the Cornwall coast, so it was pure economics that forced six women from the Bude to accept the offer of employment at Baiadepaura, and their need for coin overcame their fear of the castle, at least for the moment. But all of them had lived in Bude their entire lives, and they knew well the stories of the haunted castle on the cliff’s edge.
Annalyla could see that fear in their eyes as they entered the bailey carrying their worldly possessions with them. The bailey was being cleaned by a small army of soldiers, using shovels and picks to rid the bailey the piles of earth and fill the holes in the cobbling that had occurred from sheer neglect.
As the group worked on the bailey, the portcullises, both of them, had been returned to their original positions. The one in the south gatehouse was being secured into a permanent position, one that could not be opened and merely acted as part of the wall, while the one in the main gatehouse was being furiously worked on by another army of soldiers because Tenner wanted the portcullis secured by nightfall. He didn’t want to spend another night in a castle that he was unable to fortify.
It was into this chaos that Mawgwen and the other women came, and Annalyla and Maude were there to greet them beneath a sky that was remarkably clear considering how bad the weather had been as of late. The sun was drying out the mud and warming the land, and the day was actually quite pleasant. But it wasn’t enough to make Baiadepaura look inviting; Annalyla knew that. She knew that was why she saw such apprehension on the faces of the women who had come to serve.
“I am Lady de Velt,” she said to the group as Graham brought them near. “My husband is the commander of Baiadepaura Castle, and you shall take your orders from me and from Lady de Correa.”
She was indicating Maude, who had more experience handling servants than Annalyla had. In fact, Maude stepped forward, seeing the fearful faces, and spoke firmly.
“You have come to work at a good wage,” she said sternly. “We have no time for foolery. If you do not think you can accomplish your tasks, then tell me now. I do not want to have to tell you twice for things that must be done. If I must do that, then I shall dismiss you without any pay at all. Is that understood?”
The women nodded uneasily, looking at each other, looking to the castle beyond as if they were about to enter the gates of Hell itself. Maude saw that anxiety but she ignored it. The best thing to do was to get the women working right away, and she intended to do just that.
“Now,” she said. “I need at least two kitchen servants. Who has had experience in the kitchen?”
That was when Mawgwen lifted her hand, upsetting her crow. The bird screeched unhappily.
“I have, milady,” she said with a heavy Cornish accent. “These other ladies have served in taverns and inns. One served the local church by cleaning up after the priests. We’ll not disappoint ye, milady, but ye must know that Baiadepaura has cast fear into their hearts.”
Maude looked at the old woman; she was short and round, with wild gray hair escaping from a brown cap that the crow was picking at. She lifted a disapproving eyebrow.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Mawgwen, milady.”
“We do not want that bird around the food. If it is a pet, I shall not deny you, but it cannot be in the kitchen.”
The old woman looked at the bird. “Does ye hear that?” she asked. “Ye must behave yerself or end up in a pie.”
The bird flapped its wings and dumped white bird feces right onto the woman’s shoulder, which Mawgwen ignored as if it weren’t any concern at all. Maude’s face twisted with disgust as Annalyla took over for fear that Maude was about to scold the woman and send her away. As far as Annalyla was concerned, they needed all of the women. A morning of cleaning and scrubbing had left her with red hands, an aching back, and the realization that they badly needed help.
“The bird can remain, but please make sure he is not around the food,” she said. “Mawgwen, you may come with me. I am overseeing the kitchens while Lady de Correa is overseeing the final touches on the keep and then the hall.” She turned to Maude. “I will take two of them with me and you take the rest. Make sure the quartermaster brings all of his supplies down to the kitchen so that we can organize everything for the evening meal.”
Maude nodded, pulling out four women and taking them with her towards the keep. That left Annalyla with Mawgwen and a tiny, skinny, redheaded girl named Mercy. She indicated for the women to follow her as they headed off to the north side of the keep where the stairs led down to the kitchens.
“We heard tale of an army at Baiadepaura, milady,” Mawgwen said as she shuffled after her. “Ye came yesterday, did ye?”
Annalyla nodded. “We did,” she said. “We did not expect to find the place in such terrible repair. It will take a lot of work to make it livable again.”
Mawgwen was slightly behind her. The crow screeched again as the old woman shifted the bundle she was carrying, a worn satchel and then more possessions that were all wrapped up in a shawl.
“Did ye find anyone here when ye came, milady?” she asked.
“We did not.”
“Then ye don’t know that the pirates have been using Baiadepaura.”
Annalyla came to a halt and looked at her. “Pirates?” she repeated. “What pirates?”
Mawgwen shifted her burden again and the crow, incensed with all of the jostling, took off and flew to the roofline of the castle, screeching loudly. But the old woman ignored the bird.
“Why, the men who sail the Beast of the Seas,” she said. “Everyone knows of it. They sail up and down the coast, and they have been using Baiadepaura Castle for quite some time. They live here and keep their ship docked in the cove below. Does yer husband not know this?”
Annalyla didn’t know if he did or not, but she didn’t want to make Tenner look stupid. “I am sure he knows everything,” she said confidently, but she wasn’t, not really. “But… but the pirates are not here now. They are not coming back.”
Mawgwen lifted her eyebrows in a gesture that suggested disbelief, but she didn’t say so. She pretended to believe the young woman’s words. “That is good,” she said. “Ye don’t need pirates when ye already have enough to worry about with the place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why, the curse, of course,” she said. “Don’t tell me that ye don’t know of the curse, milady. Everyone in England knows that Baiadepaura Castle is haunted with the ghost of an evil lord.”
There was talk of the curse again, now from a local. It was one thing to hear it from Graham, who knew it as a child. But it was another thing to hear it from someone who lived near the castle. Perhaps, the old woman knew much more than Graham or even Tenner knew. Although Annalyla knew she shouldn’t ask, something in her just couldn’t help it.
“I have heard some stories,” she admitted. “But tell me what you know of it. And do not leave anything out.”
The old woman’s eyes glittered. When speaking of the legend of Baiadepaura, there was no need to embellish.
The truth was bad enough.
“Come, Lady de Velt,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the kitchens. “Let us find the kitchen and begin our tasks, and I’ll tell ye want ye want to know.”
Annalyla thought there was a hint of foreboding in that statement.
Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to shake it.
The crow stood in the doorway to the kitchen, pacing and chattering. He never tried to enter the chamber, which was all well and good, but he certainly made his displeasure known at being kept outside. As the young girl, Mercy, began to clean up one section of the derelict old kitchen, Mawgwen and Annalyla inspected the hearth that was large enough to roast an entire cow.
“It has been a long time since I’ve seen this kitchen,” Mawgwen said, peering up the chimney. “I was but a young mos when I came here with my grandmother, who served the Lords of Truro. That was many years ago, milady.”
Annalyla looked at her. “Mos,” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
Mawgwen smiled, showing what teeth she had left. “It means girl in the Cornish,” she said. “Cornish is a language all its own. It is a special language, one of pride. We still speak it in Cornwall.”
Annalyla found that rather interesting. “I did not realize that,” she said. “Mayhap, you can teach it to me. I should like to learn it if my husband is to be stationed here. It would be good to know.”
Mawgwen nodded. “I should like to, milady,” she said. Her gaze lingered on Annalyla for a moment. “But ye don’t want to talk of the Cornish, do ye? Ye want to know of Baiadepaura.”
Annalyla did, but she eyed the old lady with some suspicion. “I do,” she said. “But I want to know something first.”
“What is it, milady?”
“If this place is so haunted, why did you come?”
“Because ye need to know about Baiadepaura, milady,” she said. “When we heard there was an army come, I knew ye didn’t know everything. That’s why I come.”
“To warn us?”
“To tell ye what ye’re facing.”
Annalyla folded her arms over her chest, trying to project a strong front but perhaps looking just the least bit fearful instead.
“Go ahead, then,” she said. “Tell me about this place.”
Mawgwen did. “My family has lived in the village for centuries, milady,” she said. “There is a story my grandmother told me, that her grandmother told her. Many years ago, after the Romans left these shores and the age of darkness descended on the land, there was a wicked lord who ruled over Baiadepaura. He brought a great sickness to the land, cursing the villagers, and they rebelled against him. It is that lord whose ghost wanders the grounds.”
In spite of her determination not to be spooked, Annalyla couldn’t help the return of her sense of doom, the same sense of doom she’d had when they’d first arrived. A wicked lord and ghostly wanderings… she could feel the hair standing up on the back of her neck.
“What is his name?” she asked.
“Faustus,” Mawgwen said. “Faustus de Paura. The castle is named for the bay, and the bay is named for his family – de Paura.”
Annalyla had already heard that from Graham, but she wanted to know if the old woman knew anything different. Given that it was the same thing, it confirmed what Graham had told her. It also made her wonder if everything Graham told her was truth and not simply local legend, which was an unsettling thought.
“But why does he wander?” she asked. “What does he want?”
Mawgwen held up a finger. “Ah,” she said. “’Tis not what he wants. ’Tis what he’s looking for.”
“What is he looking for?”
Mawgwen turned and waddled over to her belongings, which she’d placed against the wall when they’d entered the kitchen.
“Many years ago, my grandfather’s grandfather was part of the group of villagers that came to Baiadepaura to rid the land of the wicked lord once and for all,” she said. “He came with many other villagers, hoping that by killing the wicked lord, it would destroy the curse that had consumed the land. But their hope was in vain; they killed the man and his wicked wife, and the curse continued. Now, it hovers over Baiadepaura like a shadow, waiting to be called forth again.”
Annalyla watched the woman as she dug around in her satchel before finally pulling forth something that was wrapped up in a length of dirty canvas that smelled of earth. As she turned back to Annalyla, she continued speaking, her voice now considerably softer.
“My grandfather’s grandfather took this from Baiadepaura on the night the wicked lord was killed,” she said, unwrapping the canvas. “I am going to give it to ye, milady. It is the curse, written by the wicked lord himself. When ye leave this place, ye must leave this curse behind, within these old walls. If ye do not, then the curse will follow ye wherever ye go.”
With that, the canvas wrapping fell away and she extended what looked to be a piece of rolled hide, old and brittle and yellowed. Annalyla looked at it for several long moments without accepting it.
“Why should you give me the written curse?” she asked. “I have nothing to do with it.”
A dark gleam came to the old woman’s eyes. “Ye had everything to do with it when yer husband assumed command of Baiadepaura,” she said in a tone that sounded like a growl. “Take it; it is part of ye now. But ye must leave it behind when ye go, and the sooner the better. Don’t let this curse have time to sink its claws into ye. The longer ye stay, the worse it will be.”
Annalyla received the clear impression that Mawgwen was advising her to leave immediately, but she knew Tenner never would. It was a foolish suggestion, really. They’d only just arrived. With a sharp sigh, she reached out and took the hide, but she didn’t unroll it. She simply held it.
“You did not answer my question,” she said. “What is the ghost looking for?”
Mawgwen could see that her warning was having no effect. “My grandfather told me that when the lord’s wife was killed, an amulet in the shape of a horsehead was taken from her,” the old woman said, displeased that her admonition had gone unheeded. “His grandfather told him that someone stole it from her body, but the man who stole it was killed even before he left Baiadepaura. Somehow, the fire that had engulfed the lord and his wife also engulfed him, and there were whispers that he was cursed for stealing the amulet. Therefore, it is not known if the amulet made it out of Baiadepaura and the ghost has been looking for it ever since.”
“But why?”
“Who’s to say? It belonged to his wife and he wants it back.”
A ghost, a curse, and now a missing amulet. Annalyla was increasingly spooked, but far more interested in the history of Baiadepaura, and the story of the curse, than she cared to admit. It was fascinating and frightening at the same time. She knew the old woman was trying to warn her off, but it was advice that would go ignored. She and Tenner were here, and they were here to stay. Her gaze moved to the old hide in her hands.
“Have you read the curse?” she asked.
Mawgwen shook her head. “Nay, milady,” she said. “It is not my right. The curse does not belong to me. Now, it belongs to ye. Ye must read it and ye must leave tonight, or the Devil of Baiadepaura will come f
or ye.”
Now, the old woman’s warnings were sounding like a threat. Annalyla didn’t like the fact that the woman was trying to force her, and everyone else, out of Baiadepaura with tales of this alleged curse. Perhaps it was only a warning of concern, but something didn’t seem right to Annalyla.
Something was off.
It was quite a neat little story, and almost too convenient. Annalyla wasn’t the suspicious type, but something about old Mawgwen didn’t seem right. She knew everything about the castle and the curse, and she was pushing hard to get them out of there. In fact, Annalyla wasn’t entirely sure she wanted the woman cooking their food. If she wanted them out badly enough, she might try to poison them.
But Annalyla didn’t let on her suspicions. For now, Mawgwen was a source of information about the castle and she wasn’t ready to let that go just yet. She had the old hide and she wanted to show it to Tenner to see what he thought about all of this.
“I thank you for your concern, Mawgwen,” she said politely. “I shall give this to my husband. Meanwhile, please see about cleaning out the hearth and I shall return as soon as I can.”
Mawgwen nodded, watching the young woman leave with the rolled hide in her hand. She could only imagine what the woman’s husband would say now that his wife held the very curse that the legend sprang from. It was, in fact, the actual hide Mawgwen’s great-great-grandfather had taken from Baiadepaura the night the wicked lord was killed. At least, that’s what she’d been told, and it had been passed down in her family for generations.
It was simply a convenient fact that it was in her possession.
But now that she’d passed it to the young lady, surely her husband would take his army and flee for fear of rousing the Devil of Baiadepaura. Surely, they would leave by nightfall.
At least, that was the hope.
Bay of Fear (Battle Lords of de Velt Book 3) Page 13