by Lisa Shea
Stephen’s voice was low. “Lucia, I am so sorry.”
She turned to look up at him, losing herself in his sturdy comfort. “We never speak of it now,” she murmured. “We have not seen Evan since that day, but we know it is his cunning and skill behind the attacks. Every wave became more targeted, and it was harder and harder to hold them off.” Her eyes welled. “This last wave was simply too much. We were overrun.”
He ran a hand along her cheek. “We will win back your keep,” he stated. “These wolves’ heads will be brought to justice.”
She shook her head, and he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “I promise it to you,” he vowed, and she could see the strength of it in his eyes.
For a long moment she was lost, all sense of self drifting, and she nodded.
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “You rest now,” he murmured, sitting back into his chair.
She lay against the pillow, her eyes on him, and the darkness slowly came.
Chapter 5
Lucia stirred, turning her head, before the ache in her side told her she was truly awake. From the low howling of the wind, plus the relative darkness against her shut eyelids, she guessed it was already mid-afternoon, easing into evening. Her body ached from long rest. She must have slept straight through the night and most of the next day.
She drew her eyes open. Flickering candles brought light and shadow from several corners of the room, and the fireplace danced with a low flame. Ellie stood at once from the table by the window and bustled over with an oaken tray.
“Here, I thought you might enjoy some fresh chicken soup,” she offered as she laid the tray across Lucia’s legs. “Matthew was by about an hour ago to check you over. He says your wound is healing nicely, and the poison is mostly out of your system. Still, I am sure Stephen will be by shortly, to wait out this last night with you.” She gave a light laugh. “I should carve his name in the chair’s back and be done with it.”
Lucia flushed, looking down as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Of course Stephen would stop coming by once she was fully healed. He was only showing concern for an injured visitor, after all.
Ellie placed the pewter spoon into Lucia’s hand. “The soup is warm - you should dig in,” she encouraged. “You need to build up your strength if the rumors flying around the castle are true! I can hardly believe it!” She gazed down at Lucia with pride.
“What rumors? I have only been here a week, and most of that time was spent curled up with a fever!” protested Lucia, picking up the spoon and hesitantly tasting the hot broth. How in the world did wild stories spread so quickly? The warmth felt good as it slid down her throat. Encouraged by the rich flavors, she eagerly took in more spoonfuls. She knew the spices were sometimes used to disguise less-than-fresh meat, but at this moment she could not care less. It was warm and delicious.
“Well,” explained Ellie, brimming with excitement, “they say that you warned my Lord about an attack coming, and that you told him and his men how to fight it! They say that you may have saved our lives! And that you are going to save your whole land and defeat the Grays!” She eyed Lucia with a mixture of admiration and apprehension. “Are you afraid? I would never be able to do something like that!”
Lucia chuckled, taking in a mouthful of the warm broth. “I am going to do all of that by myself, hmm? I work as part of a large team. And yes, I imagine we all get scared at times.” She looked bemusedly at Ellie as she finished her soup. “Do I get a vacation after I save the world, or is there another great feat that I am supposed to accomplish?”
“Well, I do not believe all the stories,” admitted Ellie cautiously as she gathered up the now-empty bowl and tray. “But you did bring us the information about the Grays, did you not? Things we did not know? The kitchen boy told me our troops are all getting new assignments and everyone certainly feels like we have finally got a plan that can work.”
“Yes,” agreed Lucia, not wanting to discourage her. “I did bring fresh news. However, much of it was gathered for me by our spies.”
Ellie still appeared crestfallen, so she added conspiratorially, “I did have a key role, of course - the tricky part was me bringing it here through enemy lines.”
The news cheered Ellie up. “I am very proud of you for doing that. It must have been horrible.” Ellie fluffed up the pillow behind Lucia’s head and helped her lay back down. “Now, do not think about those things any more. You get some sleep now, so you can heal up quickly. We will take good care of you.” She tucked Lucia in, and quietly set about tidying the room. She blew out the beeswax candles on the mantel as she passed, leaving only the embers to glow warmly in the fireplace.
Lucia lay quietly for a while, her eyes half open. Soon there were steady footsteps in the hall, and the door creaked open. Ellie murmured in a low voice, and then the young maid left while someone else entered.
Warmth swept over Lucia. She knew even in the shadows that it was Stephen’s sturdy build standing there in the flickering firelight. He looked her over for a moment before he turned to bar the door, eased across the room, and settled into the chair at her side. Leaning forward, he laid his hand gently against her forehead.
Her eyes flew open at the touch, and he gazed at her for a long moment. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she agreed. “The wound at my stomach is down to a dull throb, and the nausea is mostly passed.” She gave a half smile. “Tomorrow I should be back on my feet, and perhaps get some light sparring practice in.”
His forehead creased with worry. “Being out of bed for ten minutes at a stretch was too much for you yesterday. You need to take it easy.”
She shook her head. “The north is no place for the frail,” she recited.
He raised an eyebrow at that. “What?”
Her smile grew. “It was a saying of my father’s, any time I tried to pull the covers over my head on a wintry morning. It was his way of reminding me that this land we chose to call home was not an easy place to live.”
He nodded at that. “That is true,” he agreed. “And yet it has a beauty few other places can touch.”
Lucia gazed into the understanding his eyes held. “My father had served in Italy for several years as a young man. He talked about the lush vineyards, the warm sun, and the easy lifestyle with fondness. But he never spoke of going back. He adored our keep, adored every rock and plank.” She dropped her eyes. “He died there, defending it to the last, so I could get away safely with my men.”
His fingers twined into hers. “He died protecting the ones he loved,” he murmured.
She drew in the warmth of his fingers, the strength in his grip. “My men died protecting me as well,” she whispered. “We trudged through snowstorms so fierce we could barely see our fingers before us. It seemed every few days we ran into a raiding party of the Grays, small bands to be sure, but fierce fighters. We only lost one man the entire way down to your borders.” She closed her eyes. “And then there was that clearing.”
“You were outnumbered,” Stephen pointed out quietly.
She nodded. “Three to one,” she agreed. “But in the end it was my fault. I should not have agreed to take Vic along. He was too young, only twenty, with barely any experience in this kind of rough situation. But he had pleaded, and his sister Marcie was a dear friend of mine, and I thought …” She shook her head. “I made a decision with my heart, not my head, and we all paid the price.”
“What happened?” he asked in a low rumble.
Darkness wrapped around her as she thought back to the ambush. “We were jumped just before dusk, but my men are good, solid fighters, and we held our own. We were whittling them down, one by one, and I thought we had a chance.” She shook her head. “And then Vic made a mistake. He turned his back on a small, weaselly-looking man, thinking him not much of a threat. The next thing we knew, the Grays had fallen back, taking Vic hostage. Three of them pulled bows and aimed them at us, warning us not to follow.”
“You ran to his aid,” murmured Stephen.
She nodded in misery. “And my two loyal soldiers, men who would follow me into the depths of hell, went right at my side. They fell within a few steps, arrows deep through their chests. For some reason the Grays did not shoot me. They …” She blinked her eyes against the tears. “The smaller one turned his dagger, raked it across Vic’s throat, and he was gone.” She swallowed. “Then they just scrambled for their horses. When I raced back for my own, to follow, that is when I was hit.”
“They did not mean to hit you,” offered Stephen quietly.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his in surprise. “What?”
He nodded to the wound at her hip. “That was an accident. Two of the Grays came back to look for you just after I found the site. They indicated that you were to have been brought to them unharmed. I imagine Vic being taken hostage was a ploy to lure you into their trap.”
She shook her head in confusion. “My keep has already fallen,” she countered. “Would they hold me captive to ensure my forces gave up on retaking it, and simply stayed with my uncle in Harwich?” She shook her head strongly. “We would never give up in our efforts, no matter how long it took, no matter what the odds. Keilder is our home.”
His eyes held hers for a moment, and they shone with admiration. “I know,” he stated at last. “I know.”
It came to her suddenly that his lands had been lost for twenty long years, and that the burned-out farms she had passed during her journey were the remnants of what he had once held dear. If anyone could understand what she was going through, he could.
“I am sorry for your loss,” she offered, her heart going out to him.
The ghost of a smile came to his lips, and his other hand came up to gently stroke the side of her face. “You heal up for now,” he advised her. “Everything else will come with time.”
She nodded, then settled back against the pillow, her hand still twined in his.
It was a long while before the darkness of sleep drew her down into its embrace.
Chapter 6
Lucia sprang awake, her heart pounding, sweat streaming down her forehead. She could still see the dark visions – Vic screaming in pain, the men thundering on either side of her, and the sharp twang as the arrows flew through the air, finding their targets with deadly precision.
She swept her hand to the side, but the chair was empty. The oil lamp lay cold. Stephen was gone. Darkness furrowed into her heart, threatening to pull her down.
Ellie came running from her connecting room. Sticking her arms through the sleeves of a heavy white robe, she came to a relieved stop as she saw no one in the room.
“It must have been a dream, M’Lady. There is no one here,” she called out soothingly as she tied the sash around her waist and came around the bed to Lucia’s side. “I had only left the room for a minute. It is over now, whatever scared you.” She glanced to the windows with a reassuring smile. “Here, look, the sun is just rising. Morning is finally here.”
Lucia climbed carefully out of bed and opened the curtains further, watching the rosy glow spread across the landscape as Ellie placed an identical robe around her shoulders. Since her room was at the back, or eastern side, of the town, most of the buildings she could see between her and the outer walls were stables and farm buildings, low-lying structures with flat roofs of thatch and mud. Just beneath her were the main stables, and she could see horses being led out for a morning walk. The sunlight glinted off a snowy hay pile, and the icy layer on the buildings’ roofs gleamed in the light.
Then suddenly the sun was in the air, and the rosy shadows fled before the yellow warmth of day.
“It was nothing,” assured Lucia as she carefully examined the bandage covering her wound. It was healing nicely, and gave barely a twinge as she flexed. “The injury is mending well. It will not impede me much. I will just have to be careful.” She made a few practice swings with her arms, and smiled when she noticed little discomfort. Still, her muscles were sore from the long bed rest, and would need some soothing before she could begin even a gentle workout. “Please heat me up some bath water so I can get going as soon as possible,” she asked Ellie.
Ellie looked at her in surprise. “You are not supposed to be doing anything for at least two more weeks,” she objected. “Matthew says you are supposed to stay in bed for another week and drink soup. That you should mostly stay in your room. Maybe, after the week, he will think about allowing you to wander around the castle. You cannot go anywhere today!”
Lucia shook her head. “I have to be on my way south to meet my townsmen as soon as I am able. In a few weeks the worst of winter should be past, and they will be able to make the sea voyage safely. I plan on keeping to my schedule, and I have to be in good shape to make it there alive. Part of this includes my exercising every day. So get out I will, and no injury is going to hold me from it.”
An hour later, Lucia was strapping herself into her old pants and rough, well-worn tunic. They had been washed and repaired by the castle’s seamstress, and seemed fresh and neat. “Do you think you could lead me to where the local guards usually train?” asked Lucia as she buckled her belt and slid the sword into its scabbard. “I figure I can see what kind of shape your troops are in while I test how my body is recuperating.”
Muttering about the doctor’s orders, Ellie reluctantly agreed and, putting a heavy grey cloak over her long dress, led Lucia down the hallway she had traveled just two days ago to that meeting. Small groups of courtiers stood talking in the central hall, their tone holding upbeat excitement. Lucia ignored them, turning right through the large archway and pushing out through the large wooden front doors.
A tall, lean man with tawny curls was standing on the front steps and looking out over the courtyard. He glanced around when Lucia and Ellie came out, and nodded. “Greetings, Ellie,” he called down to the young maid.
“Lucia, this is Marcus,” Ellie introduced with a shy grin. “He is one of Stephen’s friends, and is helping out with training the troops.”
Lucia’s eyes perked up. “That is exactly what I was interested in seeing,” she explained to Marcus. “Where are they now?”
Marcus motioned with his head toward the back. “They are working on archery, in the rearmost field. You are still weak; it is probably best if we ride there.”
Ellie quailed and took a step backwards. “Horses?” she queried in a tremulous tone. “You mean, as in sitting on top of them?”
Lucia chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. “I will be fine on my own,” she reassured the maid gently.
Marcus chimed in with a smile. “I will see that she gets there safely, young one,” he promised. He waved to a passing stable boy, calling him over. “James, run and fetch our steeds.” The page went scampering out the door. A couple of minutes later he returned, leading Lucia’s roan stallion and a larger, grey horse.
“Troy!” Lucia cried, running forward with joy. The roan horse whinnied as she ran a hand fondly along his neck. “What a good boy you are,” she cajoled. “It looks like they have been feeding you well. Are you ready for some exercise?” The horse tossed his mane as she climbed into the saddle.
James looked up apologetically at Lucia. “I have searched everywhere for his reins and bridle, but could not find them. They must have been lost in the storm. At least your horse got through without an illness or injury.” Lucia could see that even at his young age he respected the value of a strong steed.
“That is fine,” she consoled him, “I ha
ve learned to not use reins on my horse. I steer him through knee pressure. This leaves my hands free for wielding my bow. The bow does require two hands, after all.” She laughed at the surprised look on the page’s face. “I will show you sometime,” she promised. “Right now I am anxious to be up and about doing something!” She kneed the horse lightly, making him dance backwards for a few steps.
Marcus smiled. “Well, follow me, M’Lady,” he offered with solicitude, climbing onto his stallion and moving him into a trot. “We have been using the back pastures to train during the winter; with the wolves getting hungrier, we have found it wise to remain within the outer walls. Right this way.” He directed his horse around the castle toward the undeveloped back areas in the wall.
Lucia drew in the details of the keep as they moved. While the front areas were made up of tightly packed stone houses, churches, schools, and shops, the pastures they rode over now were only occasionally broken up by small shelters and barns. It seemed most of the shaggy cattle slept under half-a-roof and huddled together for warmth. She tried to concentrate on following the man in light leather armor who rode before her, but found herself looking about at the contained farmland, always protected by the wall.
“Well, here we are,” announced Marcus, topping a rise near the far end of the wall. Below them, about a hundred yards away, Lucia could see twenty men sitting in a grassy semi-circle around Ian and Stephen. The troops had their backs to Lucia, and the teachers were too caught up in their lesson to notice her approach. “This is where I take my leave, M’Lady,” he added. “I have got to get back to my duties. Will you be all right?”
“I am quite fine. Thank you very much for your assistance.”
Marcus smiled in acknowledgment, then pulled his horse back toward the central building, now half hidden by the rolling hills and squat structures. Within a minute he was out of sight.