by Lisa Shea
Benet called out in sleepy confusion, “What’s going on?”
Alicia tried again for the window and this time her hands grabbed the ledge. She poked her head out.
In the soft light of dawn, four riders in black were pounding after the carriage, swords out. Dylan and Lord Bloodworth were riding hard immediately behind the carriage. The other ten guards, including Roger, were ranged around it. A scattering of trees flashed by at high speed.
Alicia’s heart tried to leap out of her body. “We’re under attack!”
“Lord Bloodworth’s horses are the best in the realm,” he muttered. “He’s known for them. We’ll make it to the keep.”
Indeed, it looked like the attackers were flagging. Undoubtedly they had trailed the carriage from London and were making their attack here where help was far away. But Lord Bloodworth’s team was proving just too much of a challenge for them. For the carriage rode straight and true through the meadows, plowing at a speed Alicia had scarcely thought possible. And the distance between them and the pursuers lengthened … lengthened …
A decrepit barn came into view on the left, one apparently abandoned decades ago. Its roof sagged in and the land around it was sprouting with weeds and young trees. The four pursuers reined in and wheeled toward it.
Dylan turned as well.
Alicia screamed, “No!”
Lord Bloodworth saw the motion and made a circling motion to his soldiers. Immediately five of them peeled off, including Roger, and went at Dylan’s side. The others closed in tighter around the coach.
Alicia’s world dropped out beneath her. “No! Don’t do it!”
Lord Bloodworth came in alongside the coach and motioned to the driver to plow ahead. The carriage maintained its breakneck speed, driving hard to his distant keep.
But Alicia could not look ahead. All she could do is look behind, behind, to where Dylan was vanishing into chaos and death.
Chapter 19
The hours coursed by in a dazed blur. Eventually the coach reined in from its pell-mell pace when a small town came into sight. The exhausted horses were allowed to rest by the stables of a small inn, with the soldiers stationed at every corner. There was no sight at all of Zachariah or the pursuers.
There was no sign of Dylan.
Ethelfleda and Benet were able to find sleep again – but for Alicia it was a distant stranger. Every noise could be Dylan riding back to her. Every shadow could be a horse. But it was never him. She was back in her nightmare – only now she knew the danger was even more imminent. Where before what she grasped at was a distant prayer of hope, now she knew the keen edge of despair.
The horses were hooked up again, the men mounted, and they set into motion. Another forest landscape. Another meadow, now flooded with beautiful golden sunlight. But to Alicia it was a desert wasteland. She knew her beloved Dylan, the man she had pledged herself to, was fighting for his life. Perhaps he was captured. Perhaps he was lying, grievously wounded, his life’s blood draining out of him.
And she could do nothing to help.
The hours passed, the wheels rolled, and finally the enormous structure of the keep grew on the horizon. It truly was impressive. The outer wall must have been a full twenty feet high, with a massive gate as well as a drawbridge over a moat. She imagined there were homes and shops within that safety. Then, on a hill, was an inner wall surrounding the keep proper. And that towered a full four stories high.
She had no doubt that this structure could withstand even the most determined of Viking attacks.
She looked to her sleeping uncle and cousin and a small measure of solace spread through her. Those two deserved to have safety. All they had risked, they had done so for her love of Dylan. If she could see them safely nestled into this fortress, she would count that as a blessing.
And then she could do what had to be done to get to Dylan.
Minute by minute the keep rolled closer, the scent of wildflower and fresh summer breezes filling her nose. Even the horses around her seemed to gain fresh life with the thought of clear water and fragrant grass waiting for them. It was the blink of an eye before they were clattering across the drawbridge planks and wending their way through the streets of the keep’s outer structures. She had a feeling the convoluted path was set up to deter would-be attackers.
Then the inner doors presented themselves. They were sturdy, oak, and they closed behind the group immediately as they pulled into a halt.
Lord Bloodworth pulled open the carriage door. “Let us get you inside and fed. You must be exhausted.”
Alicia opened her mouth, and he immediately added, “We have a full contingent of riders going back to check on the men. Don’t worry. We will make sure they all come home safely.”
Alicia’s heart twisted.
If they are even alive.
She held the thought to herself and carefully helped her weary cousin out of the coach. A tall, stocky woman dressed in a rose-colored dress strode up to them. “What is going on here?”
“I’ll explain it all soon, my dear,” stated Lord Bloodworth. “For now, please find rooms for our guests. They’ve been through quite a lot.”
Apparently the Lady of the household was no stranger to chaos. She nodded and swept her arm. “Right this way.”
Alicia wanted to stay down with Lord Bloodworth. She wanted to know what was being done to save Dylan. But her cousin was exhausted and it was Alicia’s duty to see her to safety. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open as she was led with Ethelfleda up the stairs into the keep and then up another twisting flight of stairs to the higher level. A turn, a door, and a bed in deepest blue sat waiting for her. At its side were a pair of fragrant bowls of beef stew.
Alicia took up the mug of ale and downed several mouthfuls. Then the stew followed, warm, filling, and now her eyes were heavier than a horse. Ethelfleda, moving in slow motion, was helping her out of her dress and pulling back the covers.
The mattress below was soft … so soft …
The world faded away.
*
Gentle morning sunlight streamed in through the open windows. At her side, Ethelfleda snored contently, lost in whatever dreams most soothed her. It took Alicia a moment to connect this current dark-blue bedroom to a place and situation.
Dylan.
She pushed herself to sitting. Every bone in her body ached and her mouth was parched. She reached to the mug on the table by the bed and drank down the rest of the ale. Then she forced herself out of bed. She drew on her over-dress, buckled on her sword belt, and then headed downstairs.
Lord Bloodworth and Benet were sitting at the head table talking with a group of soldiers. It looked like the rest of the keep had already eaten and moved on with their tasks – the lower tables were neatly clean and stood ready for the next meal.
She glanced around as she crossed the room. There was no sight of Dylan or Roger. Her throat went tight. “Are they resting? Hurt?”
Lord Bloodworth shook his head. “My men have not yet returned - I’m sure they’ll be back soon. They’re probably just chasing down an errant knave who made a run into the woods.”
Benet stepped forward. “You look exhausted, my darling. Come, have a seat. Let’s get you some food.”
A meat pie was brought, but Alicia’s stomach ached with worry. Every ounce of her being wanted her to ride out to that abandoned barn – but she knew her uncle would never allow it.
Her cousin appeared in the room, sunshine yellow, and came without speaking to her side. Somehow Ethelfleda always knew when Alicia needed support the most. The two worked their way through the food. Alicia knew distantly that the meal was delicious – but it seemed sawdust to her. She could barely swallow it.
She stood and walked to her uncle’s side. Her voice was low with pleading. “We can ride out together. You and I. We can take a team of soldiers. Whatever it takes to have you feel I will be safe, I will do it. But I have to go to him.”
Benet’s eyes were s
hadowed. “Oh, my dearest lass, I’m afraid –”
There was a motion at the entrance of the hall.
Roger staggered in, supported by a guard. Roger’s torso was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages; his face coated with thick layers of black soot. His eyes were barely open.
Alicia staggered. Time stood still.
“Dylan? Is he all right?”
Roger’s weary head swung slowly from left to right.
The world spun around Alicia.
Ethelfleda’s arms drew her in.
*
Alicia blinked awake. Her surroundings were confusing. It was late evening, judging by the soft light coming in through the window, and she knew there was something she had to do near sunset. She struggled out of bed, making her way to kneel by the ledge.
She looked out to the east, to where Dylan … to where Dylan …
Tears sprang to her eyes, then streamed down her cheeks.
Dylan.
There was a noise behind her and Ethelfleda came in carrying in a bowl of soup. Ethelfleda’s round face shaded with sadness and she put the bowl on the table by the bed. Then she came over to tuck her arm beneath Alicia’s.
“Come back to bed,” murmured Ethelfleda. “You need to eat.”
Alicia wanted to resist, but there was something about Ethelfleda’s gentle presence which soothed her. Alicia obediently moved back beneath the covers.
She leaned back against the pillows. The world seemed a distant fog of grey. “I’m just not hungry.”
Ethelfleda sat beside her, gently bringing up a spoon. “Just one mouthful,” she murmured. “For me.”
Alicia couldn’t let her cousin down. She dutifully opened her mouth. Then another, and another.
And then the darkness drew her in.
*
Another day. Another bowl of soup. Benet came in to sit with her for a while, but Alicia could not bring herself to speak. He had already suffered the loss of his beloved wife. He knew what it was to lose a soulmate. He, at least, had Ethelfleda to balm his soul.
Alicia had nothing.
Nothing.
*
A fresh day, full of golden sunshine. Ethelfleda tucked her hand into Alicia’s. “Come with me.”
Alicia had not the will to resist.
Ethelfleda drew her down the stairs, out the doors of the keep, and down the wending pathways of the town. There were shopkeeps sweeping their doorsteps, children running with play swords, but Alicia barely saw them. They were ghosts in a distant landscape. Characters in story which no longer involved her.
They reached the massive portcullis of the main gates and the drawbridge which led to a grassy meadow. A pair of guards stood on either side, relaxing in the late summer sunshine.
A pair of comfortable wooden chairs sat to their left.
Ethelfleda gave a gentle tug to her hand. “Come, sit with me.”
Alicia found she had no reason to refuse.
The two sat there, the table between them holding plates of berries and mugs of mead. Farmers came and went, calling out greetings, and a tinker winked at them while his cart waved with candle-holders and lamps. A trio of guards rode out on their rounds of the area. A swallow soared high in the sky, its body silhouetted against the drifting clouds.
Ethelfleda leaned over, holding a large strawberry. “Here, try this one.”
Alicia dutifully put it into her mouth. It was, indeed, flavorful, although she noticed that as an attribute of its existence rather than a pleasure.
Ethelfleda’s hand folded again into hers. “Today. What we have is today.”
Alicia nodded, and her eyes moved to the east. Always to the east. To where the meadow stretched, lush and green, with the brown path neatly bisecting it into two halves. To where, a distance hence, it was enveloped in dense forest.
To where, over the horizon and far away, her love’s body had fallen.
*
A funeral was held at the small keep chapel for all who had perished in the barn fire and battle. For that was what had happened, she gleaned from snatches and conversations which drifted like ghosts around her shadowed inner world. The soldiers from the keep had arrived, after a long, hard ride, to find the barn fully ablaze. The dead soldiers and bandits scattered along its periphery were clearly remnants of a fierce battle.
Roger had been a lucky one. He had been wounded late in the melee, speared through the abdomen by Zachariah’s sword. By then the barn had been blazing in flame.
Dylan had dragged him out to safety.
Then Dylan had gone back in to challenge Zachariah.
He never emerged.
Alicia barely heard the solemn words of the priest. She barely saw the concerned glances from her uncle and Lord Bloodworth.
All she knew was that her life was over.
*
Alicia sat alongside her cousin, both of them contently spinning sheep’s wool with drop spindles. Over the past few weeks they had gained quite a reputation for their industry and for the quality of their spinning. Alicia nodded to the farmer who wheeled in his wagon of crops. He did so every Tuesday and Friday. She knew that because … how long had she been here? She couldn’t even remember. She had come to know the routines, the schedules, of the keep’s inhabitants, so it had to be a while now. But she could not put a finger onto it.
Ethelfleda put down her spindle and passed over a tray of cheese and bread. “Eat,” Ethelfleda urged.
Alicia ate.
As the sun set behind them, Alicia stared east, always east. Her eyes searched the horizon.
But there was never anyone there.
*
A man was riding toward them in the afternoon sun on a dark horse, flanked by a pair of guards. Alicia’s parched lips moved with hope.
“Dylan?”
Ethelfleda chucked in warmth, her spindle never ceasing its mesmerizing movements. “Oh, Alicia. You should use that lens of yours more often. That’s Lord Bloodworth’s brother, Richard. Remember, the skinny one?” Her grin grew. “He looks grumpy, just like at that party.”
Richard pulled up as he approached the drawbridge. “Ladies,” he greeted, “I heard that you were still visiting. Let me offer my condolences for your loss.”
Alicia found she could only nod. How could that simple word loss encompass all she had suffered? How could it come close?
Ethelfleda spoke for them. “We appreciate your thoughts, Richard. I hope your trip was smooth?”
He nodded. “Smooth and uneventful, thank you. I’m sure I’ll see you inside tonight.”
He shook his horse’s reins and crossed the drawbridge with his men.
Alicia stared forward. She knew she would not see him later on. For she would be here, at the gate, until darkness spread its inky fingers across the whole of the land. Then she would head to bed, lay there, and wait for the next dawn to begin it all again.
Dylan was lost.
And yet, some tiny spark within her, some desperate hope which refused to give in, clung to the wisp of an idea.
Maybe the charred body had not really been him.
Chapter 20
An early autumn rainstorm pummeled the meadow and Alicia pulled her cloak in closer over her head. Even the stalwart Ethelfleda had gone inside to last out the storm in the keep’s main halls. Ethelfleda had pleaded for Alicia to show some sense – to come in until the storm had passed – but Alicia knew better. If she left her post, that would be when Dylan would need her.
She would wait here for him.
There was motion at her side. Benet was there, his face shadowed in the pouring rain. He took the seat that normally held her cheerful cousin. He gently took Alicia’s hands.
“My dear, please come inside.”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
He glanced behind him through the open gates. “Lord Bloodworth, his wife, Richard, and Nathan are all concerned about you.”
It came back to Alicia. Lord Bloodworth’s youngest brother, Nat
han, had arrived a little while ago. Was it a week? Three? She couldn’t quite remember. There had been a celebratory feast of some sort, with the three brothers reunited, but she had not taken part in it. She had merely retreated to her room to wait for the next dawn.
The next chance to watch for Dylan.
Benet patted her hand again. “My dear, you know if there was anything I could do to help, I would do it. And if you need me and Ethelfleda to stay here with you, we will stay for as long as it takes.”
She turned to him, angling herself so she could see both her uncle and the stretch of meadow with one long, sweeping gaze. “You are kind to care so much for me, Uncle. And you have already spent quite a long time watching over me. I imagine your shop needs your tending to more than ever, with the approaching harvest season. You should go. You and Ethelfleda need to return home to Canterbury.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Please come with us, Alicia. Come home with us.”
She shook her head. “This is where I need to stay.”
He glanced west. “What if I were to take you home to your parents? Back to Wales? Would you like that?”
Her head shook even fiercer. “Never. I will never return to Wales. Not when he might be out here.”
His shoulders slumped. “Oh, Alicia. I know this is hard to hear. But Dylan is dead. He died in the fighting. We saw the body.”
Her lips pressed together. “That’s what they said last time. And I almost believed it. I swear I will not lose hope now.”
“Alicia –”
She turned to her uncle, her eyes steady. “Please, go home. You and Ethelfleda need to go on with your lives. I will be fine here.”
He held her gaze for a long while.
At last nodded.
He stood and retreated within the curtain walls.
She remained, alone, staring out into the greying distance.
*
Harvest season. Benet and Ethelfleda had sent word that they’d arrived safely back in Canterbury. Once they opened their doors again, business was as brisk as ever.
Alicia was happy for them. And her own world continued to move on in its sphere. She knew the farmers by name. The washer-women would wave at her on their way to the stream. The baker’s wife brought her out apple pastries to try.