Winter's Flame (Seasons of Fortitude Series Book 4)

by Elizabeth Rose

  When he entered the small, dark smithy, he saw Winter working on his sword and Wallace stoking the hearth. Josef worked at another bench while Nairnie swept the floor.

  “Good morning,” he said, getting everyone’s attention.

  “Good day, my lord,” said Wallace with a bow. The others followed suit.

  “Lady Winter?” Martin walked to her side. She had yet to acknowledge him.

  “Hello,” she said, turning and taking his sword from the forge and laying it on the anvil.

  “I thought you were finished with the forging of my sword.”

  “I was. Then I decided I needed to add my mark. After all, every tradesman has their mark.”

  “I suppose so. But what is your mark?”

  “This,” she said, pulling the heart-shaped key he’d given her out of her pocket. The end of the key that fit into the lock was heart-shaped as well. It was a unique and well-crafted key. She placed the tip of it against the base of the hot sword and used a hammer to tap it, and push it slightly into the hot metal. When she removed it, Martin saw a small heart engraved into his sword.

  “I like it,” he told her with a smile. “Now I’ll hold your heart just like you are holding mine.”

  Winter examined the key, running a finger over the metal in thought. Then she slipped it back into her pocket. “I’m sorry, but if you’ve come for your sword, it isn’t ready yet. I’m behind in my work since the townsfolk kept me busy repairing their tools most of the morning.”

  “What do you mean? You shouldn’t have to be doing the work of a common blacksmith.”

  “Why not?” she asked. “These people have to make a living and need their tools to do it. With their blacksmith gone, I have to help them out.”

  “I see your point. It would be better to send Hubert back here and for you to come back to the castle.”

  “Is that a command or an invitation?” she asked, inspecting the heart stamp on the sword.

  “Whichever way works, I don’t care. I just want you to come back to Castle Heaton with me, Winter.”

  Nairnie cleared her throat, gaining her attention. Winter wiped her hands on her gown, seeming to consider his suggestion after all.

  “Is Lady Victoria still at the castle?” She focused on her work when she spoke to him instead of looking directly at him.

  “Aye,” he said. “But she will be leaving soon.”

  “Does that mean you found the answers to the questions you had about her and – and the boy?”

  “Nay, not yet. But I promise you; I will. Will you return to the castle with me, my lady?”

  Winter wanted to tell him yes, but her pride kept her from doing so. “I don’t want to feel like the mistress in this situation.”

  “You aren’t. We’re betrothed.”

  “As you are to Lady Victoria.”

  Martin’s aggravation was evident by the look on his face. She’d jumped into turbulent waters. “I refuse to discuss my personal matters anymore at this time and place. Now, are you coming back to the castle with me or not?”

  “Nay,” she said, picking up a cloth and wiping down the blade. “I am about to fasten the hilt and guard to your sword. After that, it’ll have to go through more grinding, sharpening, and polishing. I should be finished with your weapon by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? That soon?” That seemed to upset him instead of making him happy.

  “That’s right. You will have your sword and can save your brother and strike down your enemy, just like you wanted.”

  “Aye,” he said softly. “Just like I wanted.”

  “I’ll deliver the sword to the castle tomorrow. If Lady Victoria is still there, I am sorry to say I will then be on my way back to Ravenscar and Whitehaven.”

  “I do not like you giving me ultimatums,” he ground out. “But if that is what you want, then so be it.”

  Rock walked into the smithy. “Hello, everyone, and how are you on this beautiful day?”

  “What’s so beautiful about it?” Martin pushed past him and growled again. “Come on, Squire. I’ve got things to do and don’t have all day to waste here.”

  “Aye, milord.” Rock shrugged and hurried out the door.

  “Lady Winter, what were ye thinkin’ to give Lord de Grey an answer like that?” asked Nairnie as soon as they left.

  “Aye, he didn’t seem very happy,” added Josef.

  Winter sighed and continued to work on the sword. “He isn’t the only one who is not happy,” she replied in a soft voice.

  Chapter 18

  “I want the truth,” Martin said for the third time, trying to break Lady Victoria and make her spill her secrets. After seeing Winter in town yesterday, his heart ached to have her back. He wanted to hold and kiss Winter and make sweet love to her again. But that was never going to happen until he could prove Victoria was lying. If he couldn’t, he wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want to marry the conniving woman that was supposedly the mother of his child. But if little Martin was his son, he didn’t want to abandon the boy either.

  “I told you before and I’ll tell you again, I stayed away because I was afraid of your father,” said Victoria. “But after our baby was born, I decided you needed to know, so I returned to Castle Heaton.”

  “But the boy is nearly a year old! Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

  “I wanted to look my best for you, darling,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. Martin kept a stoic face, turning his head, so her kiss only hit him on the cheek.

  “I’ve had enough of this. I need to check my prisoner.” Martin stormed away and headed for the dungeon. Once inside the dungeon, he realized the guard was away from his post. He took the keys from the wall and let himself into the chamber that housed the cells. Moving forward through the dimly lit underground room, he stopped in front of the Scot’s cell.

  Aidar was lying back on the pallet, but his head popped up when he realized Martin was there.

  “Ye’ve come to let me out,” said Aidar.

  “Nay, I didn’t,” he told him. “I just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

  “Who is this?” Victoria walked through the dungeon, having followed him here. God’s eyes, this was the last thing he needed right now.

  “Victoria, leave here anon.”

  “Nay. I find the dungeon fascinating.” Her eyes scanned the room, settling on the Scot. “As well as the prisoners. Fascinating, indeed.”

  “Tell him to release me, my lady, I beg ye,” said the Scot.

  “Martin, mayhap you should set him free.” She talked to Martin, but her eyes remained on the Scot’s chest.

  “Nay, Lady Victoria. That’s not the way it works,” said Martin. “Don’t you understand? They are holding my brother, Jamesson, captive and, in return, I have one of their men.”

  “Trade me for yer brathair,” said the man.

  “I tried that already and it didn’t work. I would try again if I thought for one moment Laird Gregor would keep his end of the deal,” Martin told him. “Since our families have been feuding for years, I highly doubt that would happen. I cannot risk the life of my brother any longer. The construction of my new sword is nearly completed, and I will use it to kill Laird Gregor and bring my brother home safely.”

  “Nay! Don’t kill anyone,” said Victoria.

  “Let me go negotiate with my faither,” said the Scot. “I’ll talk him into a truce.”

  “I’ll handle things my way,” said Martin. “Now, not another word from you.” He turned to face Victoria. “Lady Victoria, you need to leave the dungeon anon.”

  He didn’t wait for her to go. He took her by the arm and hauled her out of there, closing the outer cell door and hanging the keys back on the hook. As they left, they bumped into his guard who was just entering.

  “Where the hell were you?” growled Martin. “You left the prisoner unguarded.”

  “I only left for a moment while I used the garderobe, my lord. I do it every day at this time. Ev
eryone is out and about doing their work, and no one is around to notice the cells are unguarded.”

  “Stay at your post and don’t make me tell you again.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Martin, I thought you and I could spend some time together today,” cooed Victoria in her sickening sweet tone.

  “You should be spending time with your son,” he told her.

  “My nursemaid is taking him to town and won’t be back until later.”

  “She’s taking him to town? Without an escort? Whatever for? And why didn’t you go with them?”

  “I wanted a new pair of shoes made for little Martin, so Glynnis is taking him to Adam’s shop.”

  “Adam?” he asked, eying her suspiciously.

  “The cordwainer. He used to make all my shoes for me when I lived here. He’s very attentive to my needs. They’re in no danger, I assure you.”

  “I’ll send my squire to go with them.”

  “Nay. They’ve already left.”

  “Rock!” he called out to his squire.

  “Aye, my lord?” Rock walked up munching on an apple.

  “I want you to go to town. Lady Victoria’s handmaid and the boy are alone and I want you to escort them back to the castle.”

  “The boy?” Rock took another bite of the apple.

  “His son,” said Lady Victoria.

  Rock’s eyes opened wide. He swallowed with a loud gulp. “Your son is unescorted?” he asked. “I’ll go at once, my lord.” Rock threw the apple core over his shoulder and took off at a run for the stable.

  “Check on Lady Winter while you’re there,” Martin called out. “I don’t like her staying in town but can’t convince her to return.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  “Why would you want that blacksmith girl to come back to the castle?” asked Victoria, jealousy dripping from her words.

  “Because I love her. I told you, I am going to marry her.”

  Victoria reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why would you want to do that when you have me?” She tried to kiss him, but Martin pushed her away.

  “I don’t know what game you are playing, Victoria, but I don’t like it.”

  “I am not playing a game.” Her hooded eyes perused him and the corners of her mouth turned up devilishly as she answered him in a seductive voice. “But if you want to play games in the bedchamber – I’d be more than willing.”

  He shook his head in disgust and walked away. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but as soon as I find out – you are out of here. Now leave me alone, I need time to think.”

  Thankfully, she didn’t follow him as he left the courtyard and went up to his secret room to be alone. Working on his clock was usually comforting but, as he sat down and tinkered with his project, the clock only reminded him of all the time he was wasting. He needed to bring his brother home, and now. Winter also needed to come back to the castle. With every minute that passed, he felt as if time were getting away from him – time that could never be returned.

  * * *

  Winter gave the sword one last rub and held up the blade in the light of the fire to admire it. “It’s finished,” she announced to the others proudly.

  Wallace and Josef rushed over to see it, but Nairnie stood in the doorway staring out into the street.

  “Can I hold it?” asked Josef anxiously.

  “Of course,” said Winter, handing it to him. “You were just as much a part of making this sword as I was. So was Wallace.”

  “That’s not true,” said Wallace. “I did very little since I can no longer see worth a damn.”

  “It’s as light as a feather,” said Josef, swinging the sword through the air. “And so balanced. Lord de Grey will be pleased with it.”

  “I hope so,” said Winter, untying her apron and removing it. “I must say it was a dream of a lifetime to work with the Damascus steel and I am happy I was able to complete the job.”

  Josef handed the sword back to Winter. She inspected the weight and balance, the straightness of the blade, and the grip of the hilt. Satisfied, she went on to check the sharpness of the edges and the smoothness of the polish. The wavy pattern in the metal of the sword was truly stunning.

  “Lord de Grey will have something to remember me by now,” she said, taking her finger and tracing the edges of the engraved heart just under the hilt. This was a symbol of her craftsmanship. She looked up to see Nairnie still staring at something across the street.

  “Nairnie, didn’t you want to see the sword?” she asked. When Nairnie didn’t answer, she took the sword over to her. “What has taken your interest so much that you don’t even hear me when I am talking to you?”

  “I find that very interestin’,” mumbled Nairnie.

  “What’s interesting?” asked Winter with a smile, looking out the door. A wagon with just Lady Victoria’s handmaid and Martin’s child in it sat in front of the cordwainer’s shop. There were no escorts with them at all. Adam, the cordwainer, reached up to help the handmaid down. Then, he took the little boy in his arms, hugging and kissing him. The three of them disappeared into the store. “Wasn’t that Lady Victoria’s handmaid and Martin’s son?”

  “It was,” said Nairnie. “Did ye see the way the child took to the man? It was as if he kent him. And there are no guards with them. Somethin’ is odd here.”

  “Odd, indeed,” said Winter, needing to know more. “I’m going over there to find out what I can.”

  “I’ll come with you for protection,” offered Josef.

  “Nay,” she said. “I want to sneak up on them and try to overhear their conversation. It will be easier if I go alone.”

  “Ye canna go out into the muddy streets wearin’ that gown,” scolded Nairnie.

  Winter had donned her cream-colored gown of a lady a little while ago. She planned on taking the sword to the castle and wanted to look her best, not like a commoner when she delivered it.

  “I’ll stay out of the puddles,” promised Winter. “I’ll take the sword in case anyone gives me trouble.”

  She stepped out into the street feeling the chill of the cold wind that had picked up since yesterday. The sky was a dark gray and full of threatening-looking clouds, announcing it was either going to rain or, perhaps, snow. Long gone were the warm days of autumn. The trees were barren of leaves and winter was on the horizon.

  With the sword in one hand, Winter hurried to the boarded walkway along the shops on the other side of the street. Her long gown billowed out behind her in the breeze. She wore no cloak to keep her from the cold but was still warm from the fires of the forge. Walking under the overhangs of the two-story buildings, she passed the tavern, gaining whistles from the drunken men inside, as well as glares of envy from the whores.

  With the sword in her hand, no one dared to bother her. She passed the butcher’s shop next and stopped just before she got to the cordwainer’s place. The door was open and she heard voices inside. Sneaking up to the building, she stopped with her back to the wall, straining her ears to hear their conversation.

  “Dada,” she heard the little boy say, finding it odd he should be talking that way.

  “Glynnis, you shouldn’t have come here by yourself,” scolded the cordwainer.

  “It was by Lady Victoria’s orders that I bring the boy to see you,” answered the handmaid.

  “I’m glad you did.” The cordwainer must have tickled the boy because she heard the child laughing.

  “Your father always knows how to make you laugh, Charles.”

  “Charles?” she repeated in a whisper, wondering why the man was calling the boy by that name. And how did he know if Martin was able to make the boy laugh since Martin just found out he even had a son?

  “Shhh, quiet, Adam,” warned the handmaid. “Someone might hear you. I need to leave now.”

  Winter peeked around the door to see the man hugging the boy. “I miss my son. Please bring him back again soon. It’s been too long and I don’t
want him to forget me.”

  Winter gasped when she heard this, her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes grew wide.

  The cordwainer kissed the little boy. When he gave little Martin – or Charles, back to the handmaid, the child started crying.

  “Take him back to his mother,” said the man. “Victoria will know how to make him stop crying.”

  “I doubt that,” snarled the woman. “She never spends time with the boy. He thinks I’m his mother.”

  “I wish you were.” The man reached out and ran his hand along Glynnis’ cheek. Then he leaned over and kissed her – on the mouth!

  Winter’s heart jumped in her chest and she ducked back out of sight. Had she just seen and heard what she thought she had? She turned to go, bumping into someone, almost dropping the sword.

  “Rock!” she said.

  “Lady Winter, you shouldn’t be out on the streets by yourself. It’s not safe.”

  “I’ve got the sword,” she said, showing it to him.

  Rock took it in his hands, inspecting it, letting out a low whistle. “Lord de Grey is going to love this. You did a phenomenal job on it.”

  She heard the handmaid saying her goodbyes. “I have to go,” she said, taking the sword from him.

  “I’m here to check on Lady Victoria’s handmaid and Lord de Grey’s son,” he said. “Why don’t you ride back with us to the castle?”

  Winter had to get to Martin and tell him what she’d heard. If the handmaid discovered she’d been listening, it could mean trouble. Lady Victoria would find a way to lie again and make Martin believe her.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got to go.” She ran to the smithy, bursting through the door with excitement. “Josef, get me the horse, quickly. I need to return to the castle before the handmaid gets there.

  “Aye, my lady,” said Josef, leaving and running to the stable.

  “Lassie, ye act like the hounds of hell are on yer heels,” said Nairnie. “What is the matter?”

  “I overheard something you won’t believe, Nairnie. I’ve got to tell Martin before Lady Victoria talks him into marrying her.”

  Chapter 19