Chloe's Guardian

by Cheri Gillard

  “The queen is your husband’s sister?” Chloe said.

  “Aye.”

  “Why isn’t your husband king then?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Agnes chuckled. “James Stewart was not born of the legitimate bed of King James, Queen Mary’s father. He leads her troops and is her cherished advisor, but he cannot be king.”

  Kaitlyn sighed. “I bet you’re glad for that.”

  “Why ever would I be grateful for such a thing?”

  “She means it must be a hard life to be married to a king, rather than just an advisor.” Should they really be talking about all this? They might say something outrageous and not even know it.

  “As you can see, I still must undertake arduous tasks. This delegation, for example, is a strain. I would much rather ride a horse than sit in one of these litters, but when the Queen commanded I come as emissary, my husband insisted I only go if conveyed this way. He worries overmuch about my safety.”

  The only sound for a while was the whir of the turning axles and the wheels rattling over the packed earth.

  “Do you have any children?” Kaitlyn said.

  Agnes laughed, looking quite young. “Nay, we only wed in February. I am not yet with child.” Her face brightened into a broad smile. “I do hope for it soon though. What about the two of you? Do you both have a man or children somewhere?”

  Right then the wagon hit a particularly big bump and jostled them enough to give Chloe a moment to consider her emotions. Did she have a man somewhere? She knew now Todd was out of her life. Somehow, that had become easier to realize since Horace had come into it. But what was Horace to her? They’d had so little time together when things were falling apart, burning up, or exploding, but something had happened between them. Some spark, some connection. But what if what Pan said about him was true? What if he’d just been trying to seduce her? Nothing fit together or was easy to work out. When he was at her back door that night, when he stayed with her at the store, when they’d been together at the Renaissance fair, he’d never pushed for anything. He only took care of her. If he meant to manipulate her, would he have been so slow to act? Helped her mother? Given Benji such a great day at the fair? Risked his life for her? If only he would show up and take them home. Then she could figure out if he was really there to help or not. Is he going to come? Is he even alive? She decided to keep all those feelings to herself for now and just admit to what Kaitlyn already knew about—Todd.

  “He left me for another girl,” Chloe said.

  “Ah.” Agnes gave a knowing yet sympathetic look. “That can be difficult.”

  She looked at Kaitlyn.

  Kaitlyn giggled. “No time. I’m taking AP English and I’m no good at algebra.”

  “Hmm,” Agnes said, though she couldn’t have understood Kaitlyn. “I was almost too busy myself with obligations to my family to notice at first that James was wooing me.” She smiled and gazed ahead, seeing some memory of her past.

  Many voices drew Kaitlyn and Chloe to one of the windows. The wagon came to a stop. Horsemen on either side blocked any view so they couldn’t see what the commotion was. Agnes reached around them and yanked loose the ties that held up rolled window coverings. They unfurled and dropped down with a thump.

  “Dinna draw any attention to the litter.” She sat far back on her bench and shrank.

  Chloe’s heart raced. If Agnes was afraid, things were scary. All kinds of outlaws could be on the road. What if John Gordon was out there? They could be dead in no time.

  Muffled voices were all that reached them inside their wagon. The tension inside expanded and took out all the oxygen. The close compartment became hot and stuffy. Chloe was ready to scream. Kaitlyn tightened her linked elbow and grabbed Chloe’s other hand. Agnes reached over and put her own hand over Chloe’s and Kaitlyn’s joined hands. Agnes was pale and pasty, her breaths short and fast.

  “Better slow down your breathing,” Chloe whispered. “You’re going to hyperventilate.”

  Agnes appeared to try to do as Chloe said. Her hand was shaking on top of theirs.

  When the door flew open, all three of them shrieked.

  The man who was in charge bent down and stuck his head in the door. “Lady Agnes, pardon the intrusion, but there has been a delay. There is a verra large dark man who wishes to speak to your charges.”

  “Horace!” Chloe couldn’t help yelling. She knew he’d come!

  CHAPTER 38

  Horatius mustered every fiber of power he could find to transfigure. His hands were up and he roared. But then he remembered he could not transfigure. And the consequence of trying could be catastrophic. The thought broke through a nanosecond before he invoked the power to make it happen. Just in time.

  He shut his mouth, lowered his arms, and reined in his frustration. People all around stared at him like he was a lunatic. One woman hid behind her cart of bug-eyed fish, her own eyes the biggest of all. Another raised her walking stick like she would use it to fend off an attack.

  He smiled to them all, nodded and saluted in greeting—and heeled the mule hard to get moving again. The mule could not take them to another street fast enough.

  If they were going to find the priest, he needed rest and strength to make a plan. It would do no good to make Billy feel worse about things.

  “We’ll find a place to rest and some food, and we’ll find the priest. We will find him,” he said.

  Billy remained silent and shrunk even farther into Horatius’ shadow.

  The merchants in the next street were packing up their carts for the day. He and Billy needed to find a room before the town was shuttered for the night.

  They stopped at an inn on what appeared to be the busiest street of commerce. First Billy slipped down off the mule, then Horatius tried to lift his leg over to do the same. But his limb would not do as he intended. If I can even get off this beast, I may never be able to remount.

  “Run inside and inquire about a room. I don’t think it would be prudent right now for me to dismount.”

  Billy hesitated, looking unsure.

  “Imagine you are out on your hillside, where you know what you are doing. You are fully capable of doing this, you know. I have every confidence.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. Look how far you have brought us. Remember how many times you have gotten me out of trouble? You are a prize, Billy. These folks are no better than you.”

  A new air of assurance drew Billy up to the fullness of his short height and the shadows of doubt disappeared from his face.

  “All right then. Wait here. I will see what lodging there is.”

  He marched into the inn and Horatius slumped over the mule’s head. He was exhausted. If he didn’t lie down soon, he might just fall down.

  Not much time passed before Billy came back out.

  “He said if I didna have coin to show him, he had nothing for me.”

  Horatius cursed. Billy’s face scrunched up.

  “Really? You want to be talking like that at a time like this?”

  “Sorry,” Horatius said. It was getting hard to remember Billy was just a boy and to refrain from corrupting him. “I don’t know what we will do about money. I am not used to having none.” The two coins he had from the Queen’s men were in the pocket of the barkeep at a pub he and Billy had patronized many, many miles back.

  “We need to get some. No one is going to let us stay without it,” Billy said as he climbed back up in front of Horatius. “There is another inn down that way.” He pressed his knobby heels against the mule and it started walking again.

  When they reached the next inn, Billy hopped down and scampered inside. When he came out, he brought with him a gray-haired man with a pot belly and ruddy, round face.

  “Here he is,” Billy said, presenting him to Horatius. “Da, this man has a room for us.”

  “Now wait a half minute there, lad. That isna what I said. I said there might be a room but I had to meet your da first.” He leveled a su
spicious gaze at Horatius. “Why did you send the wee lad alone? Do you have the sickness? Is that it? You would have come in otherwise.” He backed away and narrowed his eyes at both of them. “You get now. Stay away. We dinna want any of the sickness here.” He said it loud enough to make sure everyone on the street heard. Horatius did not even feel like defending himself. He just wanted to lie down.

  Billy didn’t remount. He laid his hand on the mule’s neck and led it through a pack of goats waiting for their owner to finish buying some fish. When they passed the goat herder, the man stepped far away and eyed them with contempt. As they moved down the street, shutters and doors slammed, letting them know they were not welcome.

  Several streets away, they found a church.

  “I will go see if they will let us stay here,” Billy said.

  He trotted inside as though he hadn’t almost been run out of town. He came out shortly with a young, slender man dressed in the robe of a vicar. His expression was compassionate and concerned.

  “Greetings sir. Your son tells me you have fallen and are in need of charity.”

  Horatius hoped his surprise didn’t show. “Ah, yes. Aye. I need to lie down.” He must have swayed because the cleric reached out suddenly. In fact, perhaps he was going to fall. Their voices and the noises of the town around him were sounding distant and hollow.

  The man and Billy were talking but he couldn’t follow what they said. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on the neck of the mule. He didn’t look up until hands were on him, helping him down.

  They were in a barn. The two struggled to get him off the mule then somehow lowered him onto a bundle of hay on the straw covered floor. He could not help or protest. As soon as he was recumbent, he closed his eyes and forgot about everything.

  CHAPTER 39

  “Horace!”

  Chloe scrambled out the wagon door, past the commander. The sunlight was gone. Men were everywhere, lit by torches, standing around or sitting on horseback. There were so many faces. Where was he?

  A familiar voice said her name behind her. She spun around.

  Pan.

  Chloe covered her mouth with her hand, trying not to let her disappointment leak out.

  “Hello, Chloe. Like I promised, I am back for you within the day.” He spread his arms like he was a wonderful presentation to her.

  “I thought…that…when he said…”

  He laughed—a huge, deep bellow. “Do not look so. I would not have abandoned you. No more need to worry. I am going with you to Aberdeen. It has been arranged with the Queen’s man. I will keep you safe and help deliver Lord Stewart’s wife back to him without trouble. You never know who might lurk on these dark roads. We have come to an arrangement. Any additional loyal arms to Her Majesty’s cause are welcomed.”

  She wasn’t glad to see him. For all the world she’d wanted him to be Horace.

  “And then I will be able to help you with that business of which we spoke.”

  “Okay. I…I better go check on Kaitlyn.” She climbed back into the wagon, pulling the door closed herself.

  “It’s Pan. He’s back. He’s going to Aberdeen with us.” Agnes was peering between her fingers looking at Chloe with giant eyes. “It’s okay, Agnes.”

  Chloe wanted to tell Kaitlyn what Pan had said about helping them, but she was afraid to bring it up in front of Agnes.

  “Play some music for me, will you?” Agnes said, slowly lowering her hands. “That will help calm my speeding heart.”

  The wagon was once again on its way, and Chloe and Kaitlyn played as many quiet, peaceful tunes as they could come up with. It was therapeutic and Chloe reveled in how it soothed her nerves. After many songs, they quit and snuggled against each other. Once Agnes fell asleep, Chloe whispered into Kaitlyn’s ear, “Pan said he’d help us ‘with that business of which we spoke.’ ”

  Kaitlyn didn’t respond. She had already fallen asleep.

  All at once, Chloe was so tired she didn’t care that Kaitlyn hadn’t heard her. She wanted to sleep, too. She rested her head against Kaitlyn’s head, which lay on Chloe’s shoulder, and closed her eyes.

  When Chloe woke up, it felt like only a few minutes had passed but light seeped in around the window covers.

  “We rode through the entire night. We should arrive in Aberdeen soon.” Agnes was awake and whispering. Kaitlyn still slept against Chloe’s shoulder.

  It wasn’t long before they came to a stop and the door opened. A hand came in and a man said, “Lady Agnes.”

  She took the offered help and stepped out.

  “Kaitlyn. Wake up. We’re here.”

  Kaitlyn lifted her head and blinked her eyes several times. Her hair was lopsided and droopy. The last bird had long since left, but the nest was still stuck to the top of her head. “Are we there?”

  “We are. Let’s hope they serve a big breakfast here. I’m starved.”

  “Wait. Where’s here again?”

  “We’re in Aberdeen. Where the Queen is. And Agnes’ husband.”

  They picked up their instruments and stepped out of the wagon into a bustling courtyard. People were scurrying about, carrying bundles and unloading baskets. A man took their instruments and assured them they’d see them again.

  “Come with me,” Agnes said. She was back to her spirited self. All the fear and vulnerability she’d shown in the wagon were gone. “I shall introduce you to the Queen. Then we shall enjoy some more music!” She took off with a spring in her step.

  Pan wasn’t around. If he was to help them, she needed to talk to him. Agnes called for her not to fall behind.

  Agnes led them through the throngs of people, across the yard, and through a large, stone entryway. Agnes walked with purpose and confidence. She knew her way around. And the people knew she was important.

  After going down a long hallway, they arrived at closed double doors with sentinels at either side. Choreographed and moving as mirror images, the guards pulled the doors open as they approached.

  It was a moderately-sized chamber with lots of drapery, cushions, ornate furniture, and decorations. A beautiful woman sat among the pillows—Mary Queen of Scots. She was much prettier than her photo in Edinburgh—the modern Edinburgh, with tourist shops selling pamphlets and postcards and key chains and sweat shirts. She was dressed much like Lady Gordon had been, but only about a quarter her girth. And though she was sitting, she was obviously very tall. A needlepoint, stretched across a wooden hoop, rested in her lap, but she wasn’t working on it. She looked off at nothing, lost in her own world.

  Agnes curtsied; Chloe and Kaitlyn mimicked her.

  “You will love what I have brought for your Majesty. They are absolutely lovely.” Agnes clapped her hands again in delight.

  On cue, the man who had taken their instruments reappeared and handed them back. They were much glossier now.

  Queen Mary said in a light French accent, “What of Gordon opening his gate to us? Has he agreed to obey our command?”

  “He was not there, I fear. My aunt says she cannot open the entrance, for her husband forbids it. But she did allow me her musicians. Shall they play for you? Never have I heard anything quite like them. Their music is peculiar but delightful.”

  Queen Mary waved her hand in assent but turned away bored. Chloe had expected more outrage. She imagined all medieval monarchs cut people’s heads off for far less than refusing entrance to a castle.

  In the corner, Chloe spotted a hassock she could use. Not wanting to be the one to push the queen toward head chopping, Chloe quickly settled onto the stool, moved her extra sleeve out of the way, and they both positioned their instruments to play.

  “Should we just play the same set again?” Kaitlyn whispered to Chloe.

  Chloe nodded. When the music started, Agnes clapped and bobbed up and down like a child. It didn’t take long for the music to pull Queen Mary from her sulky mood. Beneath the edge of her long skirt, her toe tapped with the music and her fingers kept time agains
t the edge of her embroidery hoop.

  After three songs, Queen Mary interrupted.

  “She refused to open the gate? Does she know what she is doing?”

  “Oh!” Agnes said. “I forgot.” She dug in a hidden pocket in the seam of her voluminous skirts and pulled out the sealed letter from Lady Gordon.

  Queen Mary broke the seal and unfolded the crackling parchment. After just a moment of reading she said, “Go fetch my brother.” A guard standing inside the door was gone even before the command was complete.

  Queen Mary studied the letter and Agnes gave them an underhanded wave to play again. They started back on their River Dance improv. Soon a man came bounding in.

  “What is it, Mary? I have much to do.”

  Chloe and Kaitlyn kept playing, but with the slightest decrease in volume so they could overhear the conversation.

  Queen Mary thrust out the letter and the man snatched it.

  “What is this?” he said.

  “Look at it, James,” Mary said. “It will affect your preparations. Our cousin Gordon was not within. And his wife declares it impossible to disobey her husband, to whom she ‘swore fealty before God and man,’ and it is ‘impossible to ask him because of his absence.’ ”

  “But he was there, before he climbed over the wall and ran away.” Kaitlyn had stopped playing and addressed the queen and her brother.

  Agnes gasped and stepped in front of Kaitlyn as if to shield the queen from her. Agnes bowed low.

  Fright grabbed hold of Chloe. It was clear from Agnes’ reaction Kaitlyn had done something wrong. Kaitlyn looked suddenly terrified and shot a look to Chloe.

  Agnes said, “Forgive me, sister. For I brought—”

  “Let her speak. I wish to hear.”

  Agnes backed away to expose Kaitlyn once again to Mary and her brother.

  Kaitlyn couldn’t speak. Her eyes were glassy and huge. Agnes nodded at Chloe with an abrupt jerk.

  Chloe stood up and lowered her head. “May I—?”

  “Well, someone speak. I wish to hear about this flight over the wall.”