by Lisa Shea
“I am so sorry,” was all Lucia could find to say, holding Anna’s hands in her own. “If there had been any other way ...” Lucia dropped her forehead to Anna’s hand and wished there was something else she could do. She felt the enormity of her actions – she had caused Ian’s death, and had fallen in love with Stephen. Would Anna ever forgive her?
Lucia heard the rustling as the other women left the room so that she and Anna could be alone. “Please, sit by me,” requested Anna quietly. Lucia rose and took the proffered seat as she looked at her friend with pity and remorse.
“I know it was not your fault,” began Anna slowly. “Still, it seems such a tragedy. If only he could have made different decisions. If only he had been more strong. Now it is left to us to bury him. We will be having a service for him tomorrow just after midday, in the chapel.”
Anna took a deep breath and turned to look out the window. “Lucia, I know this will sound unfair, but it might be best if you did not attend. Yes, Stephen is the one who killed Ian in the end, but it was in essence an honor duel over you. There are still so many raw wounds ...”
Lucia nodded somberly. “Of course,” she replied quickly. “Whatever makes it easier for you, I would gladly do. If you want me to leave town ...”
It was Anna’s turn to speak up hastily. “Please, no. We already have enough disruption caused by what is going on. Stay, and help against the Grays. Perhaps that will be the best way to heal the wounds, for us all to work together for a common cause.”
Lucia nodded her agreement, and Anna maintained her gaze out the window to the landscape beyond. After a few moments, Lucia gave her friend’s hand a gentle squeeze. She rose quietly and left the room. Her feet automatically turned in the direction of her bedchambers.
And stopped.
Ellie stood before her, a concerned look on her young face. “We have other rooms in the keep that can be made ready in a heartbeat. After what you endured in that room … I wasn’t sure …”
Lucia paused at that, looking in the direction of the room. Yes, Ian had taken advantage of her trust. His drunken mind had assumed that she would give herself to him, perhaps with some strong-armed encouragement, just as every other woman in his life had.
That dark night would always be a part of her past.
She drew in a deep breath, her soul lifting. Ian had tainted one night – but there had been so many other stronger memories forged in that room. Memories of Stephen watching loyally at her side while she faced the deepest wraths of the poison. Of his hand twined in hers as she struggled through the pain, desperate to stay alive. Of his eyes – his deep, brown eyes – believing in her, when she had lost all hope.
A soft smile came to her lips. That room was a sign of all she had overcome. The golden lamp beside her bed reminded her that, in the darkness, strength must shine out. There would always be challenges. There would always be hardship. And yet, with Stephen by her side, she knew that together they would find what they had always sought.
Peace.
She nodded to Lucia, determination firing her soul. “Lead on. I would not sleep in any other place.”
* * *
Ellie carefully poured more steaming water into the bath as Lucia lay back against the edge of the tub. The late afternoon sun streamed through the stained glass windows. It seemed like ages since she had taken a warm bath - her clothes had all been sent to the laundry already, and a clean, new outfit was laid out by the window.
Ellie set the empty bucket down next to the fireplace, then turned to sit on a wooden stool near the bathtub. Judging by Ellie’s cheerful demeanor, she had not been overly upset at the news of Ian’s death. The girl had been forceful in turning away visitors since Lucia had returned to the room, protecting her mistress from distraction.
Ellie’s eyes shone with warmth. “I am glad that you are back; I really missed you,” she enthused. “You appear to finally have a man by your side truly worthy of your affection. I saw the way you and Stephen looked at each other as you rode through the courtyard.”
Lucia swirled her hand through the water. “I do care deeply for him,” she admitted, relishing the rush of pleasure that came with the words. “I enjoy talking to him about issues, about my feelings, about anything that comes to mind. At other times I simply enjoy being with him.”
She smiled for a moment, then sighed. “Still, it is not the time now for thoughts like that. I will be lucky to share five words with him before this is all over. Stephen, Michael, Hector, and I are going to lead four separate sets of forces in a short period of time. We will be deployed along the route by which the attackers are apparently going to approach. It looks like the Grays are planning for their assault to occur within the next few weeks.”
“That is what we have heard,” nodded Ellie in agreement. “Everyone is holding their breath, waiting for the strike. We are very glad you arrived before their main foray.” She sat for a while, then stood. “I will give you some time alone. I imagine you need a rest after so many days on the trail.” At Lucia’s answering nod she left, closing the door gently behind her.
Lucia lay back in the water and admired the gold and ivory trimmings in the room. Penrith continually impressed her with the attention to detail shown in every corner. Even this, a changing and bath room, was elegantly decorated with tile and marble. Ellie had told her this used to be the lady of the castle’s chambers; the lady had sadly died in childbirth when Ian was quite young. Although the rooms were not used until recently, they were always kept in good shape.
Lucia wondered idly how life would change after the Grays were defeated. There would be no more war - they could all settle down to peaceful lives. Perhaps all homes would have decorative touches on the ceilings and on the floors. There would be time to spare for such frivolities.
She chuckled softly at the thought - for so long the war had been her life. It was hard to think what peace would hold for her. She would love to stay with Stephen - but would he want her? Would the situation with Ian become a wedge between them? Lucia shook her head. Only time would tell.
Lucia climbed out of the tub and dried herself with a nearby towel. She stood by the window a moment and looked at the calm of the surrounding countryside. This area, at least, was as yet untouched by the fighting. She hoped it wouldn’t see much battle scarring before the wars were over. She turned and donned the clothes on the sill.
Looking down, she saw to her surprise that Anna was walking below her, accompanied by Stephen and Michael. The three were deep in conversation, and she found herself wondering what they were talking about. Their voices were low and did not carry up to her room. Lucia found that she’d suddenly lost her appetite, and did not want to join them at dinner, with the memorial service being held tomorrow.
She moved to the bedroom. The golden lamp, as it always did, drew her eyes. It filled her with a sense of strength. This was the room where Stephen had held her to this world, despite all odds. It was where she had hallucinated her father and brother, in the depths of her fever. It had been where she poured out her deepest secrets to the man who she had now pledged her life to.
Her eyes flickered to the window where Ian had leapt. The glass had been repaired, but Ian had paid dearly for his actions. He had lost his life over it. He had destroyed his family’s name and ended their line. All that could be taken from him had.
A sense of calm came over her. The past was gone. It was time to focus on the future – on the challenges to come.
She moved to the bed, climbed beneath its covers, and turned her head to the side.
The lamp was there, the row of raised bosses steady along its length. She focused on it, on all it represented, and closed her eyes.
Chapter 23
The day of the service dawned grey and bleak. A turmoil of emotions swirled within Lucia, and she found herself unwilling to even stir from the bed. She glanced at the oil lamp in the corner, then turned her back, pulling the covers deeper over her head.
When Ellie came in, she immediately sensed Lucia’s mood. “Shall I just bring food up to you for the day?”
Lucia nodded her agreement, burrowing further into the mattress. She didn’t know how she should feel. Guilty for having caused Ian’s death? Guilty for having kissed and led him on in order to help protect Stephen? Perhaps guilty for not fighting off Ian well enough when he attacked? The complex feelings seemed to stack up until it was unbearable.
There was a firm knocking on the door, and Michael’s voice called through. “Lucia?”
Ellie was by it in a second, opening it a crack, murmuring softly with him. To Lucia’s relief, after a minute Michael’s footsteps eased down the hall. She did not want to talk with him. Not this morning, when she could barely make sense of her own mind.
Ellie slipped out after him, and in short minutes she had returned with a bowl of gruel and a mug of mead. She sat in the chair by the bed while Lucia ate her breakfast. Lucia knew the girl meant well, but all she could think of was how Stephen had sat in that very spot, how he had trusted her, and in the end she had forced him to drive a sword through the heart of his best friend.
A low knock came at the door, and Stephen’s voice eased through it, concern rich in its tone. “Lucia?”
Lucia flushed and turned away, and again Ellie was by the door in a heartbeat. He must have pressed her harder than Michael; her tone became more insistent. But at last, again, the footsteps faded, and Ellie returned to her side.
Lucia knew the sun was drifting higher in the sky, and yet it seemed the shadows grew, that darkness settled into the corners. At last even Ellie’s presence pressed in on her. She turned to the girl with a weary smile.
“You have done a world of good this morning, and I thank you. I think I would like to be alone for a while now. I hope you understand.”
Ellie’s face softened. “Of course,” she murmured. She took up the bowl, and with a last gentle look, she eased through the door.
The keep eased into an echoing silence. Lucia puzzled at it, and then the reason why drove into her core. It was empty. It was time for the funeral mass.
Guilt and regret swept through her, and then steel shimmered into her soul. She would not upset the keep in any way – but she should show her respect for the man Ian had once been. She should show her repentance for her part in what had happened.
She climbed from bed, drawing a robe around her, and then carefully eased her door open. There was not a person in sight. She stole quietly down the abandoned hallways to a small sitting room at the front of the building. From here she had a clear view of the main courtyard and entrance to the chapel. She had no wish to disturb the mourners with her presence - but she wanted to let Ian know in her own way that she was trying to forgive him.
It seemed that every member of the region was streaming into the building to honor a man that she had caused to die. Lucia felt the tears come, unbidden, and let them flow. She watched as Lord Edmund walked toward the chapel gates. Behind him came Anna, and Lucia saw that Stephen and Michael were on either side of her, helping to support her. Lucia bowed her head in shame. That should have been her position, to lend strength to her friend. Instead, she was the one asked to remain away.
Why was she being treated as the guilty one here? Yes, she had kissed Ian. Did that mean he then had the right to do with her as he pleased? Would they have treated her like this if she had refused his touch, and any contact, from the first day? And, if she had in fact not kissed him during that duel, how would her stay at the keep have ended up?
Lucia knew it was silly to even pursue this line of thought. There was no way to know what other paths would have led to. She only had the path before her to follow as best she could.
The doors closed behind the last of the group. Lucia knelt by the window and looked down on the now quiet courtyard. She poured out her sorrow and grief, and wished there was some way she could undo the tragedies. She hoped that the coming battles would resolve the Gray conflict for good, and that peace could finally come to this land.
It seemed an eternity, then the chapel bell tolled, and the doors opened again. A group of soldiers emerged somberly carrying the coffin. Behind it walked Lord Edmund, his shoulders bowed. Then came Anna, supported by Michael and Stephen. A stream of villagers and townsfolk followed as the group moved around toward the cemetery.
Lucia watched until the last of them had left her vision, and then returned slowly to her room. She climbed into bed and fell into a troubled sleep.
* * *
Lucia awoke to a dull grey morning and realized that she had slept through the day and night again. Ellie was moving around the room, and brought over a mug of warm mead once she realized that Lucia was awake. Lucia pushed herself up to sitting, and gratefully drank down the liquid, her throat parched.
A knocking sounded on the door, and Ellie ran to intercept it. “I am sorry, but Lucia is –”
Michael pushed his way past Ellie, ignoring her protests, and came over to the side of the bed. He sat down in the chair by her side, holding her gaze steadily with his own.
Lucia nodded at her brother, then turned to the maid.
“It is all right, Ellie,” she soothed. “Please leave us alone.”
Ellie’s brow creased, but she nodded in agreement, pressing the main door closed before slipping quietly into the other room.
Michael looked Lucia over with a sharp eye. “I know why you stayed in yesterday, and that is now over with.” He took a deep breath and pressed on. “Lucia, I know you react better to logic than to sentiment, so here it goes. We only have a few weeks, if that, to arrange our final defenses. You and the archers are a critical piece in this. You are the best person I have to lead that group, but if you tell me you are not ready, I can find someone else.”
He took her hand up in his own, and concern creased his eyes. “I’m here, Lucia, Tell me what to do.”
Lucia gave a half-smile, squeezing his hand. They had been through so much together, and she would not let him down now. “I will be fine,” she promised. “You are right, the worst is over. Now we must focus on the battle ahead.”
Michael patted her arm tenderly, relief visible in his eyes. “I think it will do you good to be with your friends, to be busy with training and preparation.”
Lucia took a sip of mead and focused her mind on the task ahead. “So bring me up to speed. What are the current plans?”
Michael sat back in the chair, his shoulders easing. “Each group will practice basic skills every morning until lunch,” he explained. “Then we will do run-throughs of battle scenarios for the afternoon. We have scouts out so we should have a full day’s notice before the actual strike comes. That will give us time to get into position. Each group will eat in the field between stages, so I am afraid there will not be many meals in the hall.
Lucia nodded, not overly upset at this news. With her archers, she would be safe, amongst friends. She had little wish to be around the main hall and local courtiers so soon after the service for Ian.
Michael talked with her for a while about general strategic issues. Finally, sensing she wished to get up and dressed, he gave her a kiss on the forehead, then left.
Lucia climbed out of bed and donned her gear quickly, heading out to the archery fields. Marcus and Shawn were there, guiding the group of forty or so men through their paces. Soon Lucia was in the thick of things. She helped the men refine their aim and practice timed volleys. Some of the women from the castle brought out ale, cheese, and bread for lunch, and they ate it under the trees of the back field. Then it was time for more practice and exercise.
Lucia found she was quite tired by dinnertime, and looked in on the main hall as the group staggered in. Lord Edmund was at the head table with Stephen, Michael, and Anna sitting alongside him.
Lucia shook her head. She just wasn’t ready to join them yet. She went past the archway and on to her room.
Lucia remained with her archers for the rest of the week and shu
nned all other contact. She drove herself hard, forcing away her longing for Stephen with long hours of intense focus and work. By the end of each evening she was utterly exhausted and collapsed into bed. To her relief, she fell asleep immediately.
As the days ran into each other, Lucia found it was easier than she’d thought to be away from Stephen. All of the forces were out practicing, keeping their separate routines. She never saw Michael or the others; the archers were her sole world for now. Soon Lucia’s group settled into a cohesive unit that moved with precision timing. Lucia felt quite pleased with the progress they’d made.
Still, she worried about how Anna was recovering. When a full week had elapsed since the service, she decided it might be time to go down and at least speak with Anna again to express her regrets and see if the friendship could be renewed. She left her room earlier than usual one morning; she planned on stopping by the sewing room on her way out to the archery range.
To her surprise, Lucia heard Stephen’s quiet voice coming from the sewing room, and it was followed by a melodic answer in Anna’s gentle speech. Lucia’s heart stopped at hearing Stephen’s tone; longing hit her as powerfully as a pounding waterfall.
God’s blood, she missed him.
Lucia couldn’t help herself; she drew close to the door to listen to the conversation. The hallway was empty, so she tucked herself in against a tapestry.
“You should at least think about it,” Stephen was saying to Anna, a note of encouragement in his voice. “I am not saying you need to answer today, or even next week. Please, just keep the offer in mind.”
“I do not know,” replied Anna hesitantly. “I will give it thought. I promise.”
There was a pause, and Lucia wondered what was going on. She bit her lip to fight the temptation of poking around the corner to look. In another moment, Anna’s voice spoke up again. Her voice was quieter now. “Stephen, Lord Edmund wanted you to have this. These are Ian’s bracers ...”