by Marie Brown
"So," Varley said when she had finished her tale. "My mother means to trap me into choosing a bride." The tone of his voice did not bode well for Eliana.
"As if she could ever coach one of those flitterheads to suit your tastes," Camryn said. Varley laughed, looking back at Camryn with undisguised affection.
Leena caught her breath sharply as the possible meaning of the intimate exchange sunk in. Reflexively, she glanced at the bed. . . the single bed. She blushed a little as both men looked at her. "Are you. . . uh. . . never mind."
"And what if we are?" Varley said coolly, one eyebrow raised. "You know the penalty. . . of an exile remaining in the Barony."
"Oh! Oh, yes, certainly my Lord. I have no wish to see either of you. . . Purified, or myself hung either." Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper. She had seen a Purification, once, a hideous spectacle that still turned up in her nightmares. Purification. The purging of sin from a soul, to allow it passage into Veritas.To Leena, it looked more like a human dying in hideous agony as the flames burned flesh away from bone. She shuddered violently as she realized that she was a bare step away from the flames herself, marked as a thief and in possession of such dangerous information.
"I didn't think you would." Camryn leaned back into the cushioned embrace of the couch and stretched his arms back overhead. "I told you she could be trusted."
"Yes, well, one can never be too cautious." The cool, wary look vanished from Varley's face, to be replaced by one of calculation. "So. . . I think there is a way to turn Mother's little game against her. Let me think on this a bit, it could be quite amusing."
A slight movement by the fireplace caught Leena's eye. What she had first taken for another pelt raised a shaggy gray head.
"Ashley!" she yelped in delight, then was on the floor with the deerhound. Ashley rose with dignity, then sniffed Leena thoroughly and broke into a tail-wagging grin. Leena scratched her and murmured to her delightedly.
"I take it you've met our hound?" Varley's dry voice interrupted the reunion.
"Met her? My Lord, I had the care and training of her for her first year. It is good to see that she is so well taken care of and obviously happy."
"Then I owe you a debt, friend, for she is a wonderful companion, and you did a thoroughly good job with her early training."
"It was easy, with her. She is an intelligent hound."
Talk of Ashley segued into hunting tales, then into stories of other dogs, which became other subjects. The talk stretched through the afternoon and on into the night. They continued chatting without pause while Camryn prepared a meal, until all three of them were yawning.
"I must apologize for being so ungentlemanly," Camryn said, "but all I can offer you for a bed is the couch. You see—" he paused to yawn, and Leena broke in.
"No matter, the couch is fine, and is far more than I have any right to expect. I will take it and be grateful."
"In that case, then. . .?" Varley rose, and extended a hand to help Camryn up.
"Good night, my Lords," Leena said, around a yawn of her own. "And thank you, more than words can say."
"It is the least I can do," Varley said. "I feel somewhat responsible for your situation. Now sleep well, and tomorrow we shall see about this idea I have in my head. I must return home now, but I will get away as soon as I may tomorrow."
As Leena drifted off to sleep, snuggled into the unfamiliar softness of the couch, her tired mind worked at the puzzle of Lord Varley's behavior. Not only was he harboring an exile, but he was treating a mere servant as a friend. He, and Camryn as well, had surely saved her life, and then entrusted her with a secret that could be the death of all three of them. Her muddled thoughts led to restless dreams at first, of fire and other unpleasantness. But then the nightmares faded into deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 3
Leena awoke to bright sunlight streaming in the window and a nose in her face. "Mmph," she said. Ashley licked her. "Ash, go 'way. Y'r breath stinks."
A low chuckle sounded from somewhere over her head. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She determined that it was no use trying to go back to sleep.
"Good morning." Camryn sounded altogether too awake.
"If you say so," Leena muttered. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, then blinked and looked around blearily. Through the uncurtained window, she saw that the sun was just over the horizon, and shining vigorously already. A few picturesque clouds hung about the horizon, glowing pink. Leena's conscience kicked her, telling her she should have been awake and cleaning kennels an hour ago.
"Not a morning person, hmm? I never was either, until I met Varley. The man delights in being awake before the birds." He gave an artistic shudder. "It's begun to rub off on me now."
"Where is Varley?" Leena asked, as she woke up enough to notice his absence.
"He's gone back off to the Baron's estate, remember? Last night. He seldom stays the night. People get suspicious, you know."
Leena nodded understanding. "May I ask why is he treating me like, well, like a friend? I mean, I'm a servant—former servant—in his father's household, yet he talks to me like an equal and trusts me with a dangerous secret. . ."
"That's just how he is," Camryn shrugged. He smiled fondly and began to straighten the blankets on the couch. Leena rose and helped him. "He's like that with everybody, of high station or low. Look at me. By rights, if he were as snooty as most baron's sons, he should never have deigned to speak to me. I was a mere forester in his father's service, not even particularly good at my job. But our paths crossed one day in a storm, and we became the best of friends."
"And then some," Leena murmured. "If you'll excuse me?" and without waiting for a response, she headed for the flushpot. Part of her felt disturbed by—no, disturbed was too strong a word. More like part of her felt uneast about Camryn and Varley's relationship, the part which had the memories of the Purification deemed necessary by the Church. The rest of her knew that such things, while never spoken of openly, did happen in the servant's quarters of both sexes. She had known three other people like that before. All had been unhappy and secretive. Fortunately for them all, the eye of the Church rarely fell upon the workers of the Baron's stables and kennels.
Once finished, she appropriated a comb from the washstand to untangle her hair. She gazed in the mirror and wondered what was to become of her. The ugly red welts on the backs of her hands marked her forever outcast from society. Laying the comb down, she examined the burns. Scabs had formed overnight, and they still stung with the not quite pain of a burn.
Suddenly restless, she spun and returned to the main room. Camryn stood in the kitchen area, carving a chunk off a slab of bacon.
"What is to happen to me?"
"Pardon?" He glanced up, then returned to slicing.
"You two can't take care of me forever. What happens when you tire of me, and send me out on my own?"
"Ah. . . I wouldn't worry about the future too much, if I were you." He laid slices of bacon in the frying pan on the cooktop. It sizzled and began to send up a delicious scent immediately. "Once Varley takes it into his head to help someone, he doesn't stop until that someone is taken care of beyond their wildest dreams. As for now, I have orders to take you into town once your hands are healed enough to wear gloves."
"Whyever for?"
"Shopping." Camryn grinned at her and reached for an onion. "He's got an idea that will put the Baroness in a most awkward and embarrassing position."
"Oh does he now? Do tell." Leena crossed the room and perched on a stool in the kitchen area, gazing avidly at Camryn. Now that the shock of yesterday's experience was wearing off, she was feeling a burning desire to make Eliana pay for what the Lady had done.
"What do you suppose would happen if you were to turn up in the Baron's court on Varley's arm, playing the Lady to the hilt?"
Leena's jaw dropped in a most unladylike fashion and she stared at Camryn, momentarily speechless. Then she burst out laughing. "Yo
u mean—turn her own plot- against her!" she gasped. "And no one will know but us and her! There's no way anyone will recognize me."
"Indeed. I will enjoy watching her, ahem, discomfort as she tries to deal with this new situation."
Leena giggled and snorted, trying to regain control of herself, as Camryn dumped chopped onions and tubers into the pan with the bacon. "Oh, this will be good. You will be there?"
"Of course. Everyone knows I am Varley's closest friend. I am at the estate several times a week, visiting." He sighed. "Sometimes it can be a bit of a hassle. The only time we're truly free to just be ourselves is when he manages to come out here, which is not often. But so far we're still alive."
Leena sighed. "What an incredible strain it must be on you both."
"Yes, but worth every minute."
The glowing smile on Camryn's face rather embarrassed Leena, as though she were intruding on something intensely private. She lapsed into silence and watched Camryn prepare the meal.
Her stomach growled insistently by the time Camryn was satisfied with his concoction. She had lost track of what all was in the pan, but it smelled wonderful. She followed him eagerly to the table, seating herself on one of the benches as he placed a plate of food in front of her. "Thank you!" she said, and dove in eagerly. "Mmmm. . ."
The meal disappeared with alarming swiftness. "Where did you learn to cook like that?" Leena asked, frankly admiring. Her own cooking skills were limited to making the stew and biscuits which fed the dogs and the kennel staff. All took turns at the stewpot, but there was little skill involved in simmering a bunch of meat and vegetables all day.
"Having to eat my own cooking," Camryn grinned. "That was enough incentive for me to learn."
"I can understand that. Did you live alone, then?"
"My mother died when I was five, and my father turned to drink not long after."
"Apologies, Camryn. I am too nosy by far."
"That's okay. Now, will you be alright if I leave you here alone for a while? I do still have duties as a forester, despite the improvement in my living conditions."
"Are there any books here?" He nodded. "Then I shall be fine."
"How is it that you learned to read?"
"It was part of my duty to keep records of the breeding and training of the deerhounds."
"I see. Well, enjoy. They are located in that chest over there." He indicated a cedar chest under the window. "I shall return perhaps by midafternoon."
"Good day then, and be safe." Leena eagerly headed for the chest. She didn't mind his chuckle at all. She was barely aware when Camryn and Ashley passed her and went out the door. She selected a heavy woodbound volume titled Magick, Mystery, and Myth: True Life Stories From Anarill and settled into the comfortable embrace of a chair.
Leena read avidly through fascinating tales reported as honest truth until she became aware of discomfort. Her legs were stiff from remaining in one position so long, one foot was asleep, and the backs of her hands were burning furiously. She got up and went to investigate the contents of the bathing room, hoping to find some kind of salve to ease the dry burn. Her search turned up a tin of bag balm, and she smeared it on gratefully. The unpleasant sensation faded almost immediately.
Leena returned to the chair and resumed reading, but couldn't get back into the book. She had daydreamed many times of having a day completely to herself, when she had absolutely nothing to do, but it wasn't nearly as much fun as it should have been. She was too restless to sit still anymore, so she rose and looked around for something to do. Her eye fell on the dishes from breakfast. That would do, for starters.
Chapter 4
Camryn's laugh rang out into the sudden silence. "I think not! Perhaps you'd care to repeat that accusation to Varley's ladyfriend? She would likely disagree with such a foolish notion."
The tension in the tavern grew sharp enough to shave with. "Ladyfriend?" Tarn said carefully.
"Indeed." Camryn's tone was light, easy, for all the world as if no one had accused him of something punishable by death. "May I introduce the Lady Lenalla?" and he bowed grandly with a flourish of his arm in Leena's direction.
Taking her cue, she steeled herself and stepped forward from the shadows of the booth. Her stomach promptly twisted into knots and she summoned up all the confidence and arrogance she had been practicing for the last week. All eyes were riveted upon her, taking in every detail of hair, face, dress. She surveyed them coolly, not allowing a hint of her inner turmoil to show.
"Am I to understand there are doubts of my Lord's manhood?" She swept her gaze over them, remembering Varley's instructions: Just talk to them as you would to a particularly dense individual who insisted that they knew more than you about the care of hounds. Or perhaps a new kennel hand who questioned your knowledge. . . It seemed to work. There was much foot-scuffling and many abashed looks.
"No, no, my Lady," Tarn said hastily. "Never a doubt in my mind. We were just funning with him, that's all!" His eyes bulged anxiously.
"Very well, then. See that you no longer say such things, even in fun. Camryn?" She looked at him with raised eyebrow, and he offered his arm. Without a backward glance, they strode out of the tavern and into the overcast afternoon. They continued casually down the street until well out of sight of the tavern. Then Leena collapsed against Camryn and shook with the release of nervous tension.
"That was close. That was way too close. . ."
Camryn put an arm around her shoulders, offering comfort. "You were wonderful, though. Just continue as you have begun, and we shall win this game yet."
"I hope you are right. With stakes as high as these, we cannot afford to lose."
They continued on down the street in contemplative silence until they reached the hostel where the horses awaited their return. Then Leena spoke up quietly.
"How long before the game begins in earnest? Do you know when Varley intends to bring me to Court?"
"I'd say you have at least a week's grace, yet," Camryn replied, presenting their claim chits to the hostler. "He has to wait until the seamstress has finished your gowns, after all."
"So little time. . . and yet, I wish the wait was over, and I could confront the Baroness immediately." A slow wave of anger rolled over her. The day's first purchase had been a pair of gloves to cover the brands. She stroked the soft leather lightly, able to feel the outline of the runes even through the fine kidskin.
"Patience, my dear. Your time shall come." The hostelworker brought their horses out to them at that moment, and they mounted.
Leena had a moment's difficulty getting settled in her new dress. A plain, dove-grey gown, ready made and altered on the spot, it tugged and pulled as she tried to settle into the sidesaddle. This business of riding horses was still new to her, and she was deeply grateful that the mount Varley had provided for her was docile and smooth-gaited. Once properly arranged, she tightened her leg against the horse's side and remembered to tap with the crop on the other side. The horse, a mare named Ladybird, stepped out smartly. Leena grinned at Camryn, pleased with her success. He returned the smile and moved his own gelding out onto the main road.
"Oh blast," Leena said suddenly.
"What?"
"I just realized that we never got our meal. Those men had me in such knots, I forgot all about the food we'd ordered."
Camryn chuckled. "That's not a problem. When we get back, I can show you how to make something new. Perhaps a flatbread rollup. . .?"
They chatted comfortably about food as the horses carried them out of town. Leena felt the curious eyes of people watching their progress from windows and doors. Her appearance was already causing quite the fuss.
When they reached the low wall that marked the border of the town, Leena sighed with relief. Perhaps this game would be more difficult than she had anticipated, but the desire to have some form of revenge on the Baroness still burned within her.
By the time they reached the hunting lodge, a light rain dri
bbled down out of the heavens. Camryn put up the horses while Leena ran inside to tend the fire. Once she had a respectable blaze built out of the banked ashes, she changed out of the new dress. She felt far more comfortable in cotton and wool than silk.
When Camryn returned, the two of them prepared a meal together. Leena was amazed yet again by Camryn's creativity. He could turn the most ordinary ingredients into the most extraordinary meal. They were in the middle of eating his concoction of flatbread rolled around a spicy filling of panfried meat and vegetables when a horse pounded up to the lodge. A brief moment later Varley burst in, smiling, dripping, and flushed with excitement.
"Varley! I thought you couldn't make it today?" Camryn was startled, but his face lit up.
"I bring good news, my friends!" The Lord gestured grandly with both arms and, laughing, joined them at the table. "Your little excursion into town today caused quite the sensation. People are already pestering me to know the identity of the Lady I've been keeping out in the woods." He laughed. "I told them little, of course, just enough to get them thinking I've finally chosen a bride. Then I was able to get away to come here. Since the secret's out, I said, I'm going out to visit my Lady. I will return. . . sometime! And then I left." He laughed again. "Now they know exactly why I've been out here nearly every day lately, or they think they do."
Camryn snorted. "Little do they know, eh? I had a feeling the word would get out, after Leena so neatly put Tarn in his place. You would have loved it. The old windbag fell all over himself trying to apologize to your 'Lady.'" He grinned, then a sudden expression of melancholy washed over his face. "I wish things didn't have to be this way. . . I've heard that across the great World Ocean, in Anarill, things are different."
"Yes," Leena agreed. "I've read tales of Anarill before. If they are to be believed, the people there are much more tolerant of anything. Of course, they also believe in magic and demons, but nobody's perfect."
"Be that as it may, we are in Bandor now, not Anarill, and must live accordingly." Varley smiled again, all eager anticipation like a child with a wrapped birthing day gift. "I can't wait. . . there's to be a grand ball in another week or so, to celebrate who knows what- another of my mother's fool notions. Shall we make that the occasion for your appearance, my Lady?"