by Kate Jacoby
Wandering through the hall, Robert passed the musicians and returned to his seat at the table. Everyone else was seated around the fire, clapping their hands to the brisk tempo of lute and pipe. There were a dozen of his friends and their families, and those of his council who lived nearby, people he hadn’t seen since he’d come back and those he lived with every day. It was good to hear their laughter—within these walls. Perhaps next year, he might even convince his mother to come and stay for the winter.
A roar of laughter drew his attention and he glanced up to find Daniel Courtenay approaching from the other end of the hall, his face red with exertion. With a sigh, he sank down on to a chair beside Robert and reached out for a flask of wine. “It’s not polite, you know, to sit apart from your guests.”
“But you all seem to be enjoying yourselves without my help.”
“It’s not our enjoyment I’m concerned about, Robert.” Daniel took a deep draught of wine and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “This is as much a celebration of your return as anything else. You shouldn’t be sitting there feeling guilty you’re not out with Deverin’s patrol.”
Lord Daniel Courtenay was of an age with Robert and had come to Dunlorn as a page, then as squire during the time of Robert’s father. The boys had fought furiously almost from the day they’d met, but over the years had become firm friends. While Robert had been occupied with courtly intrigue and subsequent travelling, Daniel had done his best to avoid court altogether, preferring a quiet life in the country. He had married young and settled down and seemed entirely content with his lot in life.
Though he could never be considered tall, Daniel always gave the impression of being a big man, and years of comfortable living had enhanced his girth to match. His thatch of light brown hair was longer now, but those pale blue eyes still twinkled with a familiar warmth. He turned those eyes on the guests at the other end of the hall, and in particular, on his niece, Amanda.
“She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she?”
Robert followed his gaze. The lady Amanda was young, fair-haired and possessed of an engaging modesty. She also laughed easily, even if she said very little.
“Yes, she is,” Robert replied evenly.
“Well, whatever you do, don’t blame me.” Daniel waved his goblet towards his wife. “Maud insisted she give you the opportunity to meet her niece. I tried talking her out of it, but you know what she’s like.”
Robert smiled into his wine. “From past experience, yes.”
“Maud is such a romantic,” Daniel replied with a straight face. “She hopes to aid you in achieving the same wedded bliss she and I share.”
Robert nodded slowly and kept his eyes on his friend’s face. “It was a little obvious.”
“Oh, by the gods, don’t tell Maud that! I’ll never hear the end of it!” Daniel looked shocked for a moment, then burst out laughing. “At least her heart’s in the right place—or so she keeps telling me.”
“It may be, however misguided.”
Daniel’s smile faded a little and he paused, fingering the edge of his goblet. “Is it so misguided, Robert? You’re a young man. Do you have no plans to marry again?”
“No.”
“But don’t you want an heir? The Douglas House has continued unbroken for the last five hundred years, from father to oldest son. No other House in Lusara can make such a claim. It’s almost four years since Berenice died, Robert. Maud may be a little obvious, but she is right. You should marry again.”
Robert slowly folded his hands together. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t marry, just that I have no plans to. As you say, I’m still a young man and besides, I have an heir—my brother.”
“But you haven’t even seen Finnlay since you came back, have you?”
“No,” Robert lied. “But that doesn’t stop him being my heir.”
“Well, I know you two don’t get on, but I have to say in his defence that he’s worked hard on your behalf since you’ve been gone. I know he can be a damned irritating fellow at times, Robert, but perhaps you two can put the past behind you now.”
Could they? It was unlikely—especially after that business with the Key. Robert nodded. “My friend, the past is always behind me.”
“Good. And you don’t have to let on to Maud right away, do you? That you saw through her little scheme? I mean, it will give me a few days of peace, if nothing else.”
With a laugh, Robert spread his arms. “You mean sacrifice my own peace in favour of yours? Why not? That’s what friends are for.”
Daniel smiled and refilled their goblets with the musky red wine. He was silent for a moment, then glanced up. “Robert, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you—well two things, actually. Promise you won’t bite my head off?”
Daniel was so apologetic Robert had to chuckle. “Of course I won’t promise.”
“Well,” Daniel paused, “I couldn’t help wondering—if Berenice hadn’t died—and in such a strange manner—would you still have left Lusara?”
In a second, Robert’s smile drained away. He tried to still the tremor in his voice but it was hard, very hard. “There was nothing strange in the way my wife died, Daniel. She caught a fever and was not strong enough to overcome it. That’s all.”
“But ... she was with child, wasn’t she? I’m sorry, but it’s been said that it was the child who killed her.”
“Oh, Daniel, I would have thought you were above believing such rubbish! Certainly, I’ve heard the stories, however, I also know the truth. I was here when she died.”
“But. . . you were at court.”
Robert clenched his jaw. Should he go on? He’d already said too much, already spoken about the one thing he’d banished from his thoughts. But Daniel wanted to know—needed to know—and Daniel could be trusted. “I had been at court, yes, but I came here to warn Berenice about my fall from grace with the King, that I would have to leave. I arrived late at night. She was delirious. She died in the early hours.”
“And you left? With no one knowing you’d been here?”
“Yes.” Robert looked away. He’d been so successful over the last three months, so good at avoiding the ghost of Berenice. The ghost that lived in his memory, within these castle walls. But now Daniel had brought it all up, dredged up the vision of her face, beaded in sweat, tormented, dying. And with it, the terrible knowledge ...
“I’m sorry, Robert.” Daniel murmured.
“What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?”
“It was nothing, really. It’s just that we’ve all heard the story about how you found that girl of Jacob’s. Do you really think she was taken during the Troubles?”
Robert sighed and closed his eyes. It was inevitable that someone would ask that particular question. Still, the reminder immediately brought a picture of Jenn to his mind, laughing at him for yelling at her on top of the tower. Robert hadn’t heard a word from her—and didn’t expect to unless something bad happened. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him worrying about how she was doing.
“I’m sorry, Robert,” Daniel said again, misinterpreting his silence. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
Robert opened his eyes. “Don’t apologize. Yes, I do believe she was taken during the Troubles. But don’t ask me why or how, because I don’t know.”
“You two don’t mind if I interrupt, do you?” Harold Holland lurched across the room, an inebriated grin splashed over his bearded face. He grabbed a chair opposite and fell into it, planting his elbows on the table to support his head. “I can never resist your parties, Robert. You always did maintain the best cellar in the south.”
“And you always drain it,” Daniel grunted back.
Harold shrugged his massive shoulders. “It would be churlish of me to decline such gracious hospitality. I expect good wine when I come here, Robert expects me to drink it—a perfect relationship.”
“It’s true, Daniel,” Robert chuckled, finally starting to enjoy himself, “I rely on Harold’s taste to tell me how good the win
e is. How else would I know...”
“Since you never get to drink it, yourself?” Daniel shook his head and with a great flourish, poured a little more of the wine into Robert’s cup—ignoring Harold’s pleading look.
Harold burped and snatched the flask from Daniel’s hand.
Then, still wavering in his seat, he turned a pair of dark, glazed eyes on Robert. “So now that you’ve finally come back I suppose we can look forward to things settling down again. I tell you, Robert, Selar’s attitude hasn’t improved with your absence. He’s just as bad now as he was in the first years of his reign, before you went on the council. What do you plan to do first?”
Robert heard Daniel growl at the question he’d not been willing to ask himself. But he was not about to get into this argument, at least, not tonight. Tonight was a celebration and besides, there was something else he had to do. Something much more enjoyable than arguing with Harold.
“Actually,” Robert began with a casual smile, “I have a very serious duty to perform.”
Harold raised his eyebrows and even Daniel looked puzzled. So much the better. Robert glanced over his shoulder and caught Owen’s eye. He nodded and left the hall, returning a few minutes later with a large, cloth-draped bundle in his arms. He brought this to the table and placed it in front of Robert. With a serene face, he turned and left them.
Robert raised his cup to Daniel, unable to control his grin. “I have been remiss, my friend. As you know, I have been very busy since I returned and as yet, I have not had the opportunity to congratulate you on the birth of your son. I do so now, and wish him long life and happiness.”
Harold joined Robert in the salute and Daniel smiled. Then Robert stood. “And to mark the occasion, I have for you a small gift.” He removed the cloth covering the bundle. Beneath was a saddle of the finest Lusaran leather, intricately tooled with oak leaves and boars, the signs of Daniel’s house.
“Why Robert!” Daniel rose to his feet, his hand hesitantly touching the beautiful present. “It’s magnificent!”
Robert laughed. “And it will look so fine on the horse that will go with it. One of my best stallions from next year’s brood. He’ll be broken and trained by the time your son is old enough to ride.”
Daniel’s eyes widened. “No, Robert, that’s too much. You’re too generous. I can’t...”
“Oh yes you can. It’s not polite, you know, to refuse a friend’s gift.” Robert was about to continue when a movement from across the hall caught his eye. It was Owen and he approached in something of a hurry.
“Excuse me, my lord, but there’s a late arrival just come in.”
“Oh?” Robert frowned. “Who?”
Owen folded his long fingers together and smiled. “Lord Finnlay, my lord—and he’s not alone.”
Finnlay had made it as far as the empty guard room when Robert reached him. He was standing close to the fire, his companion cloaked and with her back to him. As Robert approached, Finnlay turned, a flash of indecision on his face followed quickly by a forced smile.
“Robert! There you are! It’s good to see you back.”
Robert followed his cue. “And you’ve been gone too long, brother.”
“My lady?” Finnlay brought Robert around to meet his companion. “May I present my brother, Robert Douglas, Earl of Dunlorn. Robert, Lady Valena Cerianne.”
Robert opened his mouth to voice words of welcome, but his breath was taken away by the beauty of the face that greeted him. Her eyes gazed at him, so dark and deep that he felt, for a moment, as though he could almost drown in them. The sensation lasted only a second, but her eyes never left his face.
“You are welcome to Dunlorn, my lady,” Robert managed. He turned to Finnlay—did she have the same effect on him as well?
“Lady Valena’s train was attacked by robbers in Tar Wood. She was left stranded.”
“And of course, you were entirely right to bring her here, brother. I’ll have my men go through the wood in the morning and see if we can pick up a trail. It shames me to think this happened within the borders of my own lands.”
She smiled a little, as though for his benefit only. “I am in your debt, my lord. It was my own foolishness that caused this tragedy. My captain warned me it was dangerous to travel at this time of the year but I did insist. Now he is dead and I no longer have the benefit of his good advice.”
From her accent she was probably from Alusia, a long way from home. Her eyes seemed to invite his curiosity, but Robert was not so blinded by her beauty as to forget his manners. “You must be tired and hungry. Owen? Will you organize some supper for Lady Valena and take her up to the east tower. She will be comfortable there.”
“Aye, my lord.”
The lady smiled again and spoke, her voice a soft purr. “I thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I am most fatigued and will welcome some rest. Lord Finnlay, thank you once again for coming to my rescue.”
Finnlay blushed a little and mumbled his response. As Owen led her away, Robert turned back to his brother. Finnlay took a moment, but eventually met his gaze.
“So, you finally decided to come back,” Robert murmured. “Was it by choice, or did you get thrown out?”
“Actually,” Finnlay lifted his chin, “it was Patric who sent me on my way. If it hadn’t been for him, I’d probably still be there.”
“Oh? And what did Patric say to change your mind?”
Finnlay’s eyes went dark but he didn’t look away. “Some rubbish about how you needed me. Personally, I wasn’t convinced.”
“So why did you come?”
“Because I realized that I would never get the truth from you if I didn’t. Take it or leave it, Robert.”
The truth? Now that would be nice. If only it was so simple. Still, Robert had to smile. It was so typical of Finnlay to try and bridge the chasm between them in this manner. But—and this was the important part—it appeared Finnlay was prepared to try.
“Very well. I’ll take it.”
“And in the fullness of our devotion, divine Mineah, we ask that you bless us with a fruitful spring, and that we may continue to thrive in the warmth of your love.”
Robert shifted in his seat as Father Colin paused in his prayer and turned to face the congregation. The intimate chapel of Dunlorn was filled to capacity on this day, the most important in the festival of Caslemas. It had already been a long morning, but with mass almost over, the day was by no means finished. There was still the festival by the river, the banquet in the evening.
Once again, Father Colin raised his hands towards the heavens. “Divine Mineah and blessed Serinleth, we also offer up our thanks for the safe return of our lord and master, whose absence was keenly felt. We ask that you bless him and guide him and keep him safe unto you.”
There was a firm amen from those around Robert and he bowed his head as though in prayer. It was a funny thing, really. This particular part of the religious year was dedicated to the goddess and her powerful works. In recent centuries, however, the ceremony had focused more on the last verified incarnation of Mineah—the one which helped destroy the sorcerers. It was ironic that Father Colin should thank Mineah for the safe return of a sorcerer!
With a final prayer, Father Colin finished the service and Robert rose to leave.
“A lovely service, Robert,” Maud said at his elbow. “And most appropriate under the circumstances of your welcome return.”
“Why thank you, Maud.” Robert smiled then tensed as Lady Valena joined them. He tried to relax, but every time he saw her, every time she spoke to him, his reaction was always the same.
“Indeed, my lord,” Valena agreed, “your people hold a great love for you. They are most fortunate you have returned to them.”
She was looking at him again with that same drowning gaze and he found it difficult to respond. As though she knew the effect she was having, she added, “I sincerely hope their prayers are answered and you will remain with them for a long time. I understand that y
our brother believes this to be the case?”
Robert forced in a breath and tore his eyes away. Fortunately they landed on Micah, who waited for him by the door. For some reason, Micah was frowning.
“Yes,” Robert replied absently. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have things I must attend to before this afternoon.”
He waited until they were through the hall and alone before throwing a question at Micah. “What are you looking glum about? How are things going with your father?”
“Well enough. He doesn’t speak to me, but I’m determined to win him round.”
“Good.” Robert nodded; but that wasn’t it. Micah was still frowning. “Anything else?”
Micah glanced over his shoulder. “That lady—who is she?”
“I told you, Finn found her in trouble and brought her here. I believe she plans to leave tomorrow. Why?”
“I just don’t like her.”
“Oh come now, Micah, there’s nothing to dislike. Are you not a little jealous that my brother commands most of her attention?”
“Aren’t you, my lord?”
Robert paused. He searched Micah’s face for some other answer, but came up with nothing. “Come on. I still have to get changed before I go down and start the festivities.”
Micah said nothing more on the subject and an hour later, changed and rid of his official duties, Robert walked along the wet grass by the river and enjoyed the first bleak rays of sunshine for weeks. He wound his way between stalls selling honey cakes and hot spiced wine. Tumblers performed on a wooden platform erected the day before while peddlers bellowed, selling their wares. Hundreds of people, rugged up against the cold, were out enjoying the spectacle.
Further along the riverbank, Robert saw his brother, unsurprisingly escorting Valena. He tried to avoid them, but it seemed the lady was determined to speak to him.
“This is a most wonderful festival, my lord,” she began, turning those eyes on him again. “So many people have travelled so far to see you. For one so greatly loved, I wonder that you left at all.”
Robert tried to smile, but his face felt wooden. “I fear I am not so loved as you imagine. This is, after all, a festival for Mineah—not me.”