by Carm Nicosi
Brant asked, "You gave her coins, for the fortune teller?"
"Nay, Me Lord. The Lady always ‘ad one. I do not know where she got them," Hester replied.
Robert asked, "Are you sure, the gypsy told Isabel 'the babe would travel to the child‘? She used the words 'the child'?"
"Aye, Yer Lordship," Hester confirmed.
"When I was at Isabel's, she got a message that said ‘Lady Ann and the child, are safe with the Lord’, once. Another time, the message was, 'Lady Ann is settling in well, but the child still has nightmares'. The gypsy might have been carrying messages, in and out, Brant," Robert said.
Harold spoke up then, reporting, "When the Lady did not come down a few times, the gypsy asked after her. Yet, they were here yesterday, and she did not ask if the Lady was well. I think, maybe, the gypsy knew Lady Isabel was gone."
The servants had brought out trays of meats, breads, cheeses, and other staples, while this discussion had been taking place. Brant asked if the gypsies were still in the area, as the knights sampled from the trays. Someone offered the information, that the gypsies had been camped, about a mile west of the village.
Brant ate in silence for a while, thinking about Isabel. A gypsy fortune teller seemed like a lark, to the people here. Robert had said kidnapping him, seemed like a lark. He had thought, he could go through with a sham marriage, and stick her out of the way somewhere, with no complications. Things around his wife seemed to be superficial, and harmless. However, once you were involved in them, you found you did not quite know, what was going on, or if it was harmless after all. This whole situation with Isabel, was supposed to be because of Brant's war with Avery, but Avery was dead. Therefore, it should be over, right? Or, was there something more going on? Once again, Brant was finding he had a lot of questions, and no answers. He knew one thing for certain, though. When they were done eating, they were going to go look for a gypsy fortune teller.
When the knights rode into their camp later, the gypsies had their wagons all packed, and appeared to be leaving the area. The fortune teller's wagon was not yet underway.
As Brant rode up, the gypsy greeted him with, "Good day, Me Lord."
"Good day," Brant returned. "The Lady from the Castle, disappeared about five days ago. Have you seen anything unusual, in the area?"
"We ‘ave only been here two days. I have not seen anything, out of place," the woman said, as she looked nervously at another gypsy, who was frowning at her. "Would ye like me to tell yer fortune, Me Lord?" she asked, looking at Brant, hopefully.
"Aye," Brant said, remembering what Hester had reported, of Isabel's actions.
The gypsy reached out to take his hand, and ran a finger along his palm. Brant found himself smiling over her outrageous, channeling the spirits demeanor. There were several bands of gypsies, nomadic people who had somehow gotten here from the continent. They were mostly con artists and thieves, who moved when, or before, they got in trouble.
"Yer love was taken, by yer own hand. To find yer love, find yer Lady. Would ye like to buy a lucky charm, Me Lord?" the gypsy concluded.
Brant shook his head in the negative, and handed her a coin. The other gypsy slapped the reigns, to start the wagon in motion. Brant watched until the wagon had moved off a little ways.
Then, looking at Robert, he said, "I believe I know what happened to the women, and the babe." Everyone looked at him quizzically, and he continued, "Obviously, they were spirited away by gypsies."
Robert and Harold rolled their eyes, then both men's jaws dropped open, as Brant turned his palm up. A small piece of parchment paper, had been tucked between his fingers. The parchment said, 'the child is safe with Lady Ann'.
Knowing they had gotten all the information they would get, from the gypsy, the knights returned to the Castle, to ask a few more questions. It was likely, that Isabel left of her own accord. The gypsy woman had some part in passing messages, but there had to be someone inside the Castle, too. It would be much easier to get information from them. Brant had no authority over the gypsies, whereas he could punish his serfs.
More discussion of the Lady’s activities, turned up the information that she was quite fond of her horse. She had often gone to the stables, to talk to Robbie, a youth who cared for the horses. Isabel had even asked Robbie to ride the horse, to insure it was getting regular exercise, insisting that Harold approve that arrangement. So, Brant sent Harold out to find Robbie.
Harold returned a short while later, to report that Robbie had left to exercise Isabel’s horse, right after Brant had arrived. The youth had not returned. It was likely, that the stable hand was the inside man, so to speak, who was now long gone. Although, a patrol was being sent out, to make sure he was not injured somewhere.
Later, after the evening meal, Brant asked Hester to have a bath prepared for him, in the Lord’s Solar. The serf told him, that some of Isabel’s things were still in there, from after the babe was born, and asked if she should remove them. Brant instructed her to leave them for tonight, but have them packed up in the morning, and sent to his home.
Brant climbed the stairs, and entered the Solar. He walked through the antechamber, and into the bedchamber. Everything looked pretty much the same, as when he was there briefly about a year earlier, except for the cradle. Brant walked over, and rocked the cradle, back and forth, wondering again, if there was some way the babe might be his. He realized he really wanted a child. The sound of water being poured into the tub, in the antechamber, interrupted his thoughts.
He considered the events of the day, and decided that Isabel was in all probability, a willing participant in her departure. However, he still needed to find her. The note from the gypsy mentioned Lady Ann, Isabel’s mother. Considering that she was only one and seven, it was likely that with the babe, she would be heading straight to her mother. On the morrow, it would be best to return to Robert’s, to see if Kate knew exactly where Ann’s dower property was, and take Hannah home.
From the antechamber, a serf called, “Me Lord, yer bath is ready. I was sent to see if you need any assistance.”
Brant groaned inwardly, recognizing Lillian’s voice. She was this castle’s version, of Cora. A lewd tart, who’s antics he use to find amusing. He thought about sending her away, but realized her assistance would be helpful, to remove his tight tunic, and chausses.
While Lillian was helping him undress, he asked, “Did you know the Lady?” When she responded with an affirmative nod, he continued, “What do you think of her disappearance?”
“I think she run off on ‘er own. I think she was pretending, to be sick,” Lillian said.
“Why is that?” Brant asked.
“Hester says I should not gossip,” Lillian said, reluctant to continue.
"The Lady is missing," he reminded her.
"A few days before she were gone, ‘er and Rosamund was arguing, when I was bringing the babe’s clean wash up. I was about to knock, when I heard Rosamund say, ‘Someone should stuff Yer Lord in a chamber pot’,” Lillian said, blushing.
Brant stepped in to the tub, and lowered himself into the water. He motioned to Lillian encouraging her to continue.
“Then the Lady said, ‘he is certainly not that bad.’ And her maid says ‘no honorable knight would maul a Lady, the way he did ye that one night’.” Lillian paused again, so Brant indicated she should wash his back, and continue her story. “Then the Lady said ‘therein lies the rub, does it not?’ and they was quiet, so I was going to knock. But Rosamund said, ‘ye should have told him’ and the Lady answered, ‘aye, and mayhap he would have strangled me.’ Next, her maid said, ‘yer husband is going to 'ave to be told,’ and the Lady said ‘I intended to tell ‘im, ‘e did not give me a chance’.”
Lillian stopped to pick up the bucket of clean water, to rinse his hair.
With that done, Brant asked, “Was that all?”
Lillian replied, “Aye, Me Lord. Except, I knocked, and went in with the wash, and the Lady said ‘thank-
you, Lillian,’ like she were real weak. ‘Er voice did not sound weak, when they were arguing.”
Lillian had moved around to his chest, and was massaging it, under the guise of lathering it. Brant reached up, to take the soap, and sponge, from her. He asked her to go get clean clothes from his duffle, in the bedchamber, and lay them out on the bed. He then quickly washed the rest of his body, while she was doing that task. When she returned, he rose from the tub, motioning for one of the bath sheets, Lillian had quickly picked up. Brant directed her to dry his back, then his feet, and legs. By the time she worked her way up to his knees, he had the other sheet wrapped around his waist.
“Thank-you, Lillian. I will not be needing you anymore tonight. Please ask Hester, to have the bath emptied,” Brant said, dismissing her.
“Aye, Me Lord,” Lillian replied, sounding a little disappointed, as he turned, and walked into the bedchamber.
Once he closed the door, Brant mentally congratulated himself on how good he was getting, at giving the Castle tarts instructions, that kept them from any lewd groping. The bath sheet around his waist was discarded on the floor, as he climbed into bed, and covered himself with a blanket.
Before sleep came, his mind drifted over Lillian's gossip, focusing on what Isabel's husband would have to be told, that he did not give her a chance to say. Robert said she was waiting to talk to him, but he had sent his men to bring her here. After nearly three months in a dungeon, Brant was too mad, to be reasonable. His father had sent Peggy here, while she was carrying her lover's child. Brant knew he had them bring Isabel here, because it was well out of the way, and the closest thing to a dungeon, he could reasonable put his wife. However, he had no idea what to make of the knight, who had 'mauled' the Lady, and should be stuffed in a chamber pot. He did not recall ever touching her. Had he? Or, were they talking about someone else? Brant drifted off to sleep, without finding any answers.
Chapter 10
Isabel was furious. She had arrived at her mother's several weeks ago, thanks to a round-a-bout escort, from Richard. Her mother, and Richard, had insisted, that as long as Brant had Isabel, they were going to keep his sister, Esme, from him. Now that Isabel was there, they were changing their minds, and refusing to return the girl to her brother, or even send word that she was safe. Brant had shipped Isabel off to his remote Castle, and had provided no word on her welfare, to Ann. He did not deserve to know Esme was alright, was the logic. Isabel did not tell them, that she had left a message with the gypsies, for him. There was no way to know, if he had even spoken to the fortune teller. What was more, the gypsy woman always insisted they be so cryptic, that she was not sure the message would make sense, if he did get it.
Furthermore, Ann was taking advantage of any opportunity, to lecture Isabel, about bringing the babe with her. Her mother thought that Isabel should leave her newborn babe, at some remote Castle, for his sire, who did not even know about him, to raise. Which explained to Isabel, why she had grown up largely in the care of her father, and his serfs, while her mother was traveling and visiting.
That was another good reason to keep Esme, they claimed. If Brant was told about the babe, his sister could be used as leverage. Now that Isabel was away from her husband's care, with her son, she was almost hoping, that she might never have to tell him. If he did not know about the babe, Brant could not try to take the child from her.
The babe began to fuss, so Isabel went to change him. After she had nursed Nathaniel, Rosamund came to tell her it was nearly time for the evening meal. She helped Isabel gather everything they might need downstairs, for the child, and descended to the hall. There, Isabel lay Nathaniel in a cradle that had been placed near the hearth, and took a chair beside him.
The sentry cried out word of travelers, approaching the Castle. A short while later, a serf entered with word that Lord Reginald of Talishurst, and his wife, were returning home from London. They were requesting accommodation, for the night. Although, Lady Ann did not know the couple, it was common practice for traveling gentry, to request shelter at the Castles along their way. Ann, of course, granted their request, and a short while later, the older couple was escorted into the hall, for introductions.
After dinner, the men talked over tankards of ale around the Lord's table, while the women enjoyed a chalice of wine, near the hearth. Lady Muriel, the new arrival, sat in a chair on the opposite side of the cradle, from Isabel. From there, she cooed over the babe, and gushed about how adorable he was, repeatedly telling Lady Ann how proud she must be of her grandson.
"Aye," Ann said. "Nathaniel is just precious. We have to be very careful, to see he is not taken from us."
Ann gave her daughter a pointed look. Isabel easily interpreted her mother's words as another reminder, of her determination to keep Isabel, and the child, away from Nathaniel's sire. Lady Muriel was too busy watching the babe, to notice Ann's look, or Isabel's irritation.
The older woman chattered on, saying, "My eldest son is two and three. I wish he would settle down, and give me some grandchildren. Unfortunately, his only interest in women, seems to lean toward tarts. I have even tried, to get his sire to arrange a betrothal contract. But he will not agree to that."
That comment, earned Isabel another pointed look from her mother. Once again, the message was clear. Robert had said pretty much the same thing, about Brant. It had been eight months, since he had been released from her dungeon. Isabel wondered how many lewd tarts he had found, in that time. She realized the conversation was really annoying her. Fortunately, as if on cue, Nathaniel started to cry, giving her an excuse to take him up to bed, and get away from her mother. Once she reached her room, Isabel decided to stay there, until the guests had traveled on the next day.
Brant was in the meadow, beyond the road, that passed his Castle, with Hannah, watching as she picked the early spring flowers. The now six year old girl, had given him a large bunch of wilting flowers, and was now examining a small bug. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of men-at-arms, and a coach, coming up the road. As they drew closer, Brant recognized the crest the coach was flying, as that of Lord Reginald, the husband of his aunt, Muriel, on his mother’s side. He rose from the ground, and called to the child that it was time to go back to the Castle, to await their guests. Hannah slowly walked over to pick up some of the flowers, before taking Brant’s hand. Together they walked across the road, and passed through the Castle gate, into the court yard. Then, Hannah said she was going to show the flowers to Nora, and ran off toward the hall. Brant was left to wait alone, on the stairs, for the coach to arrive.
As soon as the Lord and Lady descended from the coach, Brant asked, “How were your travels?”
Reginald responded, “They were quite fruitful.”
Brant ushered them up the stairs. Reginald waited until they were seated at the table, in the hall, before he continued.
“We did just as planned. We arrived there in the evening, and asked for accommodation, for the night. Isabel, and her son, are definitely there with her mother,” Reginald said.
He was interrupted by a serf who brought some refreshments. When the serf departed, Muriel joined the conversation.
“But that is not all we discovered. Esme is there, too,” she reported.
Brant, who had almost given up hope, of ever knowing what had happened to his sister, asked sharply, “Are you sure?”
“Aye” both responded, nodding in the affirmative.
Then, Reginald assured him, “She seemed to be doing well enough, though she seemed a little sad.”
Brant realized that while this was very good news, it also complicated the situation. As her husband, he had every right to go there, and demand they send Isabel and the child, out to him. Lady Ann could not use her daughter, and grandson, as hostages. Esme was another situation. If they were determined enough, they could threaten her, if he did not go away. He knew, he would have to get her out of the Castle first, if he wanted to retrieve both females, and the child.
/> Then, Brant asked the most pressing question, “Did you see the babe?”
“Aye” Muriel said. “He appears to be very healthy, and well cared for. But I think there was quite a bit of tension, between Isabel and Ann. I got the impression, Ann does not like you. So she likely, is not pleased, that the babe is the spitting image of you, Brant.”
Brant found himself once again, wondering exactly what had happened, while he was being held prisoner, by Richard, and Isabel. Had he been drugged, so that he did not remember, all that happened there? Then Lillian’s gossip jumped into his mind. ‘No honorable knight would maul a Lady’ and Isabel had replied ‘therein lies the rub’. He never looked at Isabel, but she was about the same height, as the serf Alisa. He realized that several times, the girl came in when he was in bed, in the dark. Had Isabel switched places with the serf, to trick him into siring the child? Was that the whole point, in providing the girl to him? That was a definite possibility. He did not know what to think, but Brant was sure, he was going to get Isabel back, from her mother. Then, he would find out the truth.
Brant spent the rest of the day with his aunt and uncle, catching up on family, and reminiscing about the past. As the couple were leaving the next day, Brant thanked them again, for their carefully arranged accommodation, at Ann’s. Reginald assured Brant, if he needed any further assistance, he need only ask.
It was a beautiful day in the middle of May, and Esme was practicing impatience. Isabel allowed Esme to ride her horse Matilda, that had arrived a few days after Isabel, with a stable hand named Robbie. Isabel seemed to think that situation, some big jest that she would not explain to the younger girl. However, to go riding, Esme had to have a couple of the knights from the Castle go with, for safety sake. They tended to spend the evenings drinking, or chasing the castle tarts, and waking quite late in the morn.