by Traci E Hall
Sucking his teeth before spitting on the floor, the baron asked, “Ten percent? I hear France is nice.”
Nicholas lunged for the table, but the baron’s knights caught him before he could grasp the knife. The baron reached over and slugged Nicholas in the head. “Throw him back. The next time I see him, make sure he’s been washed.”
Joseph tracked the horses to the baron’s castle. He stayed hidden in the forest, deciding what to do. He wanted his treasure back.
He pulled his worn cloak around his head, hiding the quiver of special arrows beneath it. He fell in with a group of peddlers and walked with them through the gates. He kept his head down and shuffled through the village, focused on reaching the castle itself.
He had no idea what he would do when he got there.
Joseph thought while he walked. He did his best thinking when his feet were moving—did Lord Nicholas still have the treasure? He frowned in confusion. He had thought Lord Nicholas to be a good man. His instincts had told him that Nicholas was as good at heart as even Father Michael.
Father Michael always had a kind word for him, even though he was big and stupid and the other villagers were afraid of him. He scratched his head, which was hot and sweaty beneath the heavy hood. If Nicholas was so good, then why had he stolen Joseph’s treasure?
Joseph clearly remembered the day that he’d found it. It had been raining heavily, and the stones around the outer base of the north tower had come loose. Inside he’d found an oiled deerskin wrapped tightly around a pretty box. He grinned. His mother had laughed so hard she had cried! She’d patted him on the head and called him a good son. His heart raced. He loved his mathair, but usually she boxed his ears and called him daft.
Which was why he was so careful to do as she said. He was not supposed to go around the north tower; she’d told him it was haunted.
If his mother found he’d let Lord Nicholas take the treasure to Baron Peregrine, a man his mother hated above all others, he knew he would be in for it. He shuddered. She might even break his arrows.
He tried to prove to Maude and his mother that he was a good provider. He was a better hunter than the men in the village. Hadn’t he killed all of the baron’s men, just as his mother said? He had even pinned those two bad men to the kitchen table so that his mother could talk to them. Otherwise they would have hurt her, she’d said so.
He reached the end of the dirt road in the village and now he had to make a choice. Should he sneak into the castle grounds on his own, or should he stay with the group of peddlers?
Blending was the most important part of being a great hunter. He stayed with the peddlers. His mother said that Lady Esmerada wanted the baron to suffer for his many, many sins. His mother thought that making people suffer for their sins was her life’s work.
He realized he’d fallen behind the peddlers, but at least he was in the castle courtyard. He knew it was wrong, some of what his mother did. But she was his mother, and Father Michael had told him to respect his parents. His father was dead.
He’d told his mother that he was off to sell furs at the next village. She hadn’t noticed that the treasure no longer sat on the mantle above the fire. She had been too busy trying to make the villagers afraid of the pretty Lady Celestia.
Joseph had tried to make sense of his mother’s ranting, but he only understood that his mother was fond of Lord Nicholas, yet hated Lady Celestia. He shook his head, confused about that. The Lady Celestia was beautiful and kind, much nicer than his stupid sister, Maude. Maude pulled the wings off of butterflies.
When he had come back from checking his traps that fateful night, he had seen the two, Lord Nicholas and Lady Celestia, running from his hut and into the forest. He was going to call to them, but they had looked frightened. Besides, Maude had called him inside, and that was when he’d realized they’d taken his treasure.
He’d been angry at first. His mother would get mad. But then he thought that mayhap the treasure really belonged to Lord Nicholas, since Joseph had found it at his keep. He remembered the finger bone with the ring and wondered if it was magic. He scratched his head again. Joseph would have given the treasure to Nicholas, if he had asked. But not if he had known that Lord Nicholas would give the treasure to Baron Peregrine—now that was something he really didn’t understand.
Baron Peregrine was the devil; his mother said so. He stopped in his tracks. Mayhap the finger bone was magic, and Lord Nicholas needed it to defeat the baron! A smile grew. He had to find Lord Nicholas, and help him fight the devil! He shrugged his shoulders, reassured by the heavy quiver full of arrows.
He stepped against the shaded covering of the inner wall. Where would Lord Nicholas go? He thought and thought. He watched a tall youth take a horse to the stables. Yes! Lord Nicholas was most fond of Brenin. He would be certain to visit his stallion, sooner or later. Joseph edged toward the large, long barn.
He knew how to be patient.
Celestia heard Viola’s crying voice, “I feel her heartbeat, but it is faint.” Then she heard Sir Geoffrey round on Maude. “Ye could’ve killed our lady!”
Bertram said, “Nay, Maude didn’t do it on purpose.”
“No accident,” Geoffrey said.
Maude cried, “’Twas an accident! The lock fell away like water beneath her palm. She is a witch—it shocked me so I screamed, and lost my footing on the stairs.”
Willy sniffed. “Bertram, you should never have let her go. Why did ye allow her to run up behind our lady?”
Bertram yelled, “Lady Maude wanted to save the Lady Celestia.”
Willy shouted back, “Oh, and that worked out fine—did it not? Your slut may have killed Lady Celestia! Lady Maude,” Willy spat in disdain, “when did she get elevated above peasant’s status?”
Henry asked in a subdued voice, “Will she live? Who can heal her, if she is the greatest healer of all, and she’s injured?”
Celestia heard all of this, yet it didn’t compel her to open her eyes. Viola said, “The Lady Evianne. We need Celestia’s grandmother.”
Grainne Kat shuffled close. “What is all the ruckus about?” Celestia, though she had her eyes tightly closed, could feel the malevolent gaze of the wise woman. “Didn’t I tell ye? The tower is cursed! I told you not to let her open the tower. Is she dead?”
Celestia felt Viola leap over her prone body. “You old hag—what have you done?”
Geoffrey must have caught the maid, since Celestia heard Viola’s grunt and her knight’s huff. Then he said, “Get me the litter that was to take Grainne Kat back to her hut. We’ll place my lady on it, and carefully carry her into the downstairs sewing room.”
Willy said, “Shall I ride for Montehue Manor?”
Viola clapped, and sighed heartily. “Ride like the wind, and bring our family to us.”
That was the best news of all, Celestia thought before letting the darkness take her.
Time had stopped.
There was no urgent need to do anything—nothing called for her attention. Celestia felt as if she was floating betwixt one world and the next. “I hurt,” she told the lady with the raven-black hair.
The woman smiled kindly and caressed Celestia’s blond waves, the only part of her that didn’t ache. “Ye’ve been brave, lassie. But ye canna give up.”
“Can you not ease this pain?” Celestia whimpered.
“I canna, dochter; to feel is to live.”
“I would die, then, to escape this torment.”
The woman smiled again, “Ye would not! Not when Nicholas needs you, yet.” The smiling face changed into a mask of sorrow. “Beware the old woman.”
“Where are you going?” Tears slid down the woman’s cheeks, and Celestia reached for her as the lady disappeared into mist.
Her voice echoed, “Beware the carlin! ”
Celestia longed for Nicholas.
She saw his strong, gray eyes, his noble nose, his ebony hair as clearly as if she was looking through a pane of glass.
&nb
sp; He was trapped, for certes, as she was. But he was fighting to be free. Celestia wasn’t certain she wanted to be free.
She felt the lightest touch of Viola, then heard her lament, “I don’t know what else to do. We’ve mended the broken bones in her arm and her ankle, but she will not wake.”
Shy Sally sniffed. “How long until the family arrives?”
“Three days more, and that is only if they rode without stopping.”
“Will she lie so still forever?” Shy Sally whispered, but Celestia could still hear.
Viola smacked the girl, most likely on the arm, Celestia thought, wondering at the maid’s spunk. “I won’t hear that kind of talk, do ye understand? She will come ‘round! She has to. She is the lady here, and Lord Nicholas will not be pleased to find his wife ill.”
She felt Viola sit on the edge of her bed, and then Celestia heard her pick up a brush. Viola gently pulled the bristles through Celestia’s hair. Her maid sat, sniffing and brushing, brushing and sniffing. “Come back, Lady Celestia. Come back to us!”
Shy Sally started crying, and Celestia heard the sound of the woman’s tunic swish as she left the room.
Viola spoke. “Grainne Kat is still here, my lady, and I know if ye could, ye’d tell her to leave. But she insists she’s the closest thing to a healer we have, and unfortunately, she’s right.”
Celestia wondered if she should be alarmed, but in this odd state of limbo, she wasn’t concerned about anything other than escaping a new hurt.
“She helped us set your ankle. That old dame’s strong, and all of her pretending to faint antics—they are just that.”
Celestia’s pain was soothed by the sound of Viola’s voice.
“Sally and I take turns standing guard over your pallet. I don’t know how, my lady, but I swear that wise woman is responsible for your bad health.”
This agitated Celestia, and she tried to open her eyes, but found she could not. They wouldn’t open.
She opened her mouth to speak but it was sealed, as well. Panic flared. Was she paralyzed? Or crazy? She concentrated with all of her might but she couldn’t move her arms or her legs. Help, she thought wildly.
The lady with the raven hair came back and touched her shoulder. “Sleep, Celestia. Grow strong. Yer body fights for life, just as the carlin tries to steal it from ye.”
“I am so frightened …” Celestia said as tears slipped from her eyes.
“I am here, dochter, I am here.”
“Who are you?”
Celestia thought the woman would not answer her, and she struggled against the invisible bonds that kept her from moving.
“You are a fighter, lassie.”
“I am a healer.”
“You are strong, stronger than I ever was.”
Celestia’s mind suddenly filled with images. An apple orchard, a woman, and a toddler. The woman was laughing, her sewing in her lap, a gold thimble on her thumb. “Nicholas!” the woman called. “Ye’ll get dizzy if ye keep turning round and round like a dervish! Come, sit by me.” The boy wobbled over to the grass and plopped down. “Yer a braw bairn, young Nicholas. Yer mam loves ye, remember that. Give me a kiss, son.”
Celestia’s heart thundered in her ears, but she was afraid that if she spoke the images would fade.
She watched as another woman, older than Esmerada but not middle-aged, walked over to the two. “Welcome, Katherine! Would ye care to join us?” The woman shook her head with sorrow. “Nay, Esmerada. ‘Tis time for your medicine. Ye don’t want to get worse, do ye?” Celestia knew that woman. Grainne Kat!
The sight began to dissipate like so many clouds. “Nay!” Celestia cried out. “Don’t leave me!”
“Beware the carlin …“
Chapter
Nineteen
Psst.”
Nicholas rose from his semi-slumber. Day and night had become mixed as he lay beneath the stables. There’d been no more word from Forrester, and Nicholas hoped the knight hadn’t died from a head injury.
He hadn’t seen the bell again, either.
“Are ye there, me lord?”
Nicholas scrambled to his knees, not sure he’d heard correctly.
“Joseph?” The plot grew thicker and thicker, Nicholas thought with a wild laugh.
“Aye, I tracked ye.”
“You did?”
“Ye stole me treasure.” Joseph peered through the slat, looking like he might be settling in for a long talk as he laid himself out, full-length, across the floor of the stable.
Nicholas swallowed. “I’m sorry, Joseph, I should have asked.”
“I would a given it to ye—I figure ye need it to take down the baron. Me mother says he’s the very devil.”
“Your mom might be right.”
“Who got ye?”
“Sir Petyr.”
“I never liked that Petyr, too pretty. Though Maude thought he was ‘heavenly.'” Joseph snorted. “Heavenly. What does that mean?”
“Not to rush you, but can you get me out of here? I can’t find a door.”
“I am so stupid!” Nicholas heard the sound of a palm smacking skin. “Of course ye’ll be wanting out.”
“Hey,” a young man’s voice said. “Who are ye talkin’ to?”
Nicholas, remembering what had happened to Forrester, hoped that Joseph would have the sense to stay quiet, or at least lie.
Joseph answered proudly, “The prisoner.”
Nicholas lowered his eyes, certain he was through.
“Prisoner?” the lad’s voice squeaked. “Below the stables? Must be full a shit down there! What did he do?”
“Didn’t think about that.” Joseph laughed. “Is there piles and piles of horse shit, Lord Nicholas?”
Nicholas gritted his teeth. “Aye.”
A second eye, this one a sparkling green, joined Joseph’s at staring down into the storage pit. “Good day to ya! I never met a real prisoner. The baron usually just has the peasant’s heads cut off.”
Nicholas touched his neck. “I am rather attached to my head, lad … will ye help me escape?”
The green eye widened through the crack in the plank. “Escape? I dunno, the baron would have my head then. We should ask me brother, Ned.”
Nicholas dropped his chin to his chest. Was God the biggest jester of all time? “Ned? Would you be Ed, by any chance?”
The green eye grew suspicious. “And how would ye know that?”
“I know a lot about you, young sir. I am married to your sister Celestia. Now will you get me out of here?”
“Yer the reason that Celestia had ta get married?”
“Aye.”
The suspicion remained. “And just why would the baron want ye to marry me sister, who is the greatest healer ever, and then throw ye beneath the stables?”
Talking with a clenched jaw, Nicholas said, “If you would help me escape, mayhap we could find the answer to that very astute question.”
Ed jumped to his feet, pulling Joseph up with him. “Quick! Someone is coming. I’ll show ye a grand place ta hide.”
They left, spattering more dirt and straw down on Nicholas.
He wasn’t naming names, but someone Up There had a wicked sense of humor.
When Nicholas had told his Lord and Savior that he would be open to any suggestions, he’d had no idea that he’d be offered escape through the cesspit. Beggars could not be choosers, he supposed.
Ed had come back with Ned and Joseph. Ned worked inside the castle as a page, and had quick fingers. He’d nabbed the plans from the baron’s private rooms and found the cesspit drain below the stables.
The drain was located beneath the heavy bags of molding feed, which Nicholas had not thought to move. The rats lived there, and he had been willing to leave them undisturbed. A live-and-let-live philosophy. He looked at the bags seething with rat bodies and bit back his nausea. Celestia needed him. He hated rats.
He crawled forward, uncertain as to how he could accomplish his goal without getting b
itten to death. As he got closer, beady red eyes popped up everywhere he looked.
“How ya doin'?” Ned or Ed asked in a changing voice.
Joseph said, “I have an arrow, me lord, if that will be of any aid.”
The boys scoffed. “What good is an arrow without a bow? Are ye daft?”
Joseph answered, “Aye. I but wanted to help.”
“You can squeeze an arrow through that crack, Joseph?” Nicholas asked.
“I thought to widen it a bit, not so anybody would notice, and then pass it through. But it was a stupid thought, me lord.”
“Nay! I have no weapon; even an arrow would be better than naught.”
The boys apologized to Joseph, who didn’t hold a grudge. He let them help shave slivers of wood to widen the crack, then he slipped the arrow through.
Nicholas accepted it gratefully.
“Now what, me lord?” Ed or Ned asked in a whisper.
“I wish that I knew,” Nicholas said, his jaw tight.
Joseph said, “It would be easier, me thinks, to take the planks from the floor and pull him out, then we can return the planks as if we’d never been here. We must hurry, though, the guard I coshed over the head ain’t dead, you know, just sleeping.”
Nicholas groaned. “I am glad you didn’t kill him, Joseph. I hate rats, and I’m already covered in manure without having to crawl through a cesspit. I much prefer the idea of you pulling me out.”
Ed pushed Ned into a pile of hay. “Yer brilliant, Joe! Ned! Makin’ Lord Nicholas crawl through the cesspit—what were ya thinking?”
Ned cuffed Ed upside the head. “I was usin’ me noggin for something besides pickin’ me nose, bugger.”
The sounds of the boys scuffling up ahead had Nicholas realizing he might never get out of his prison.
Joseph picked the two boys up by their arms. “Ye can fight over who is stupider after we free Lord Nicholas. If we use that empty stall over there, we can cover the hole up with hay if we need to hide in a hurry. Should I go back and slit the guard’s throat, me lord?”
“Nay!” Nicholas quickly answered.
“Come, lads. Get to work.”