Ellen dismounted and peered through the shrub, surprised to see one of her father's men. She watched in wide eyed fascination as he nocked an arrow to a strange looking bow and let it fly. The arrow whooshed through the air, and embedded its tip in the bark of an old oak, near another arrow. Ellen forgot caution as she stepped from her hiding place, only to find the archer facing her, a third arrow nocked and ready to fly.
The archer eased the tension on the bowstring and relaxed his stance. "Do you not know better than to sneak up on someone with a weapon? What are you doing here, Lady Ellen, and why are you alone?"
"I did not mean to startle you, Stephen, " she cried out in surprise. No one had ever pointed a weapon at her with the intention of using it. She stared in fascination at the simple bow, for her father's men employed crossbows in their battles. She had heard her father's men arguing over the merits of the longbow, but no conclusion had been reached. An idea lit within her, one, which would assuredly invoke her father's anger if he ever found out. Lord Hugh might believe in educating females, but he would draw the line at what she had in mind. "Stephen," she began slyly, "teach me how to use a longbow ... and a dagger. In fact, I want to learn many of the things a squire learns."
"No, my lady." Stephen leaned against the longbow, as if without it, he might not stand. He was not quite as tall as the duke, but was broad shouldered and lean. Stephen's green tunic and hose, with a brown cowl and soft leather boots, allowed him to blend into the forest. His brown hair was cut short and showed traces of gray. Brown eyes studied the young girl, but revealed nothing of what the man was thinking. Stephen stood straight, never taking his eyes from the duke's daughter.
Ellen knew it would be no surprise to Stephen to see her wandering about the countryside against her father's better judgment, but her being alone seem to bother the huntsman more than she expected, even if she did stay on her father's estates. She had a different view of the world and a woman's place in it. If Stephen refused her, Ellen would search until she found someone to teach her the things she wished to learn.
Stephen blew out a breath and made his decision. "I will not teach you things a squire learns, but I will teach you the ways of a huntsman. What of your father's approval? I will not go against his word." He gave her a stern look.
Ellen stalled briefly. Still holding the reins in her grasp, she led Stargazer into the glade, bringing them closer to one of her father's most trusted men. "There will be no problem in that direction," she assured him. Ellen had no intention of saying anything to her father.
"I will not be a party to any untruths, young lady," he warned.
"No, no untruths, I promise. Papa knows I ride Stargazer over his lands almost every day."
A flicker of doubt showed in Stephen's eyes, but quickly vanished. He assessed her slight figure and made his decision. "You cannot learn dressed like that," he added, glancing over her simple work dress. "Skirts will hamper you."
"Ellen, where are you?" a distant voice called out.
Ellen's answering grin disappeared at the sound of her name. Why was he searching for her? "I will come here, tomorrow, after my lessons with Father Bernard," she quickly told Stephen, ignoring the intruder.
"As you wish." Stephen looked past Ellen, in the direction of the caller. He glanced back at Ellen in time to see a flash of frustration and displeasure cross her features. "Go quickly, before your friend vents his anger on an innocent meeting. I do not wish to hurt him."
Ellen opened her mouth and closed it again, deciding not to say anything about the intruder. Why would David be looking for her? "Good day to you, sir." She quickly pulled up a bunch of wildflowers, an excuse to cover her emergence from the woods. She glanced back and saw the hint of amusement on Stephen's face. After mounting her mare, Ellen turned back to the road.
She saw immediately that David was in ill humor, having to search for the duke's missing daughter. She sensed the thoughts going on in his head; he was a knight, not her nursemaid.
"What were you doing alone in the woods, girl? Have you no sense in that head of yours? Have you forgotten about the thieves who roam about there? Where is your groom?"
"I did not go far," came the retort. "You ask too many questions. Perhaps another dousing in the stream would cool your temper." Ellen was more than satisfied to see the dull flush of David's features. She gently kicked her mare, sending the animal in a gallop toward Ravencliff Castle.
David grumbled under his breath as he followed the stubborn girl. "If I had my way," he said as he caught her up and rode by her side, "I would put you over my knee and give you a well deserved spanking. Then I would lock you in your chamber until your wedding day."
"You would not dare!" The suggestion both embarrassed and horrified Ellen. The hardness in his black eyes said he would dare that and more, if he had his way. Where was the affection he held for her when they were younger? Had that vanished with his knighthood? It hurt to think he could become solely concerned with his new standing with her father. Her own feelings were confused at times, but she had no intention of admitting to it. Perhaps it was the same for him, as Muriel had suggested, and he used his new status to hide what he thought.
* * *
Ellen was the only student left to Father Bernard, leaving her to endure his ire alone. She studied the scroll before her, scrunching her small features as if she understood nothing of what she read. Her expressions only fueled the priest's diatribe. He had muttered something about Kitty showing good sense and knowing her place in God's plans. Ellen silently scoffed at him. Like her, Kitty knew what she wanted, but unlike her, Kitty was not the adventurous kind.
Ellen continued to ignore the priest until the time came when he declared the lessons over for the day. She bolted from her chair and rushed out of the schoolroom, anxious to get on with her new lessons.
Glancing about the hallway and seeing no one, Ellen tiptoed into her brother's room and headed straight for a chest in a corner. She rummaged through the clothing he had outgrown, hoping to find something to fit her. She found hose and a tunic that looked to be about the right size for her. An unexpected find was a pair of soft leather boots. She kicked off one of her slippers and tried on the boot. They were a bit large. She tried again, this time while wearing her satin slipper, and found the fit to be improved. Cross garter ties would ensure she did not accidentally kick off boot and slipper. Ellen bundled up her prize and quietly checked the hallway again for any servants, or, Heaven forbid, her father. She would have a hard time explaining what she was doing in her brother's bedchamber, pilfering his outgrown clothing. Ellen darted into her own chambers and quickly changed into her new costume. The tunic was loose enough to hide the changes in her figure. She pulled on a loose working gown over the clothes and slipped down the servants' stairs to the stable.
Ellen played a dangerous game having David's squire escort her out of the bailey. Geoffrey waited patiently for her, with two saddled horses. She was sure he had no idea what she was up to, but knowing her independent spirit, he probably counted on her to be doing something she should not. Ellen mounted Stargazer and rode out the bailey with Geoffrey close behind.
They rode in silence until they were out of sight of the castle. "Forgive me if I speak out of turn, my lady, but what is it you are up to this time? I think it only fair I know what trouble I am bound for."
"I want you to continue on to the village and stay there until I come for you."
"What are you about?"
Ellen saw the look of doubt in Geoffrey's eyes. "Do not ask any questions, Geoffrey, or I will be forced to tell Kitty what it is you have been doing in the village."
"Ladies should not know about such things." Geoffrey glanced away, his cheeks a dull red.
"Who said I was always a lady?" Ellen laughed. "Your secret is safe with me, as long as you keep mine."
"As you wish," Geoffrey groused and continued down the road, but not before Ellen heard him mutter something about being too smart for her own g
ood.
Ellen turned her mare to the woods and once within their boundaries, stopped long enough to discard the working dress and stuff it into a saddlebag. She tugged on the tunic, took a deep breath and urged her mount forward again. She found Stephen sitting in a small glade, munching on an apple.
"I wondered if you had changed your mind. The day is half gone," he commented as he tossed the remainder of his apple over his shoulder.
"I could not very well begin skipping my lessons with Father Bernard, as much as he would like that. He would report to my father, and Papa would demand an explanation." Ellen dismounted, letting the reins drop, and gave the mare a pat.
"I warned you I would not be a party to any untruths."
"There are no untruths when nothing has been said." Ellen suddenly realized what she had promised during their last meeting and countered proudly. "I am ready to begin my lessons." She held her breath, hoping the expression on his face did not mean he had changed his mind.
"Good. Have you ever used an axe? Of course not. Silly question." Stephen stood, and sauntered over to a large stump with a long handled axe stuck into it. Beside the stump were lengths of wood waiting to be chopped. "Watch carefully." He placed a small log upright on the stump, raised the axe over his head and brought it down with a fierce swing, splitting the log in half. He took one half and repeated the process, until the half log had been reduced to the proper size for firewood. He handed the axe to her and waited.
Ellen stared at the tool as if she had never seen one before, then looked up at Stephen incredulously. "You want me to chop firewood? You said you would teach me to use a longbow. If you want someone to chop wood for you, there are people in the village willing to work for a price."
Stephen sighed. Going back to the tree, he brought a longbow, shorter than the one he had had with him the day before. "Draw the bowstring," he told her, "as far back as you can."
Ellen held the bow as she had seen Stephen do, and tried to draw back the string, but was barely able to move it. Her face turned red with the exertion. Pulling as hard as she could, the string finally jumped from her grasp and snapped against the inside of her elbow and the wrist of her other hand. She gave a screech at the pain and dropped the bow. Her arm burned like nothing she had ever felt before. The skin was red and felt hot to the touch.
Stephen picked up the weapon and drew the string back with ease, then looked down at her. "Never be in a hurry to take up something you are not prepared for. Females do not have the strength to draw back a bow adequately. Do not look at me that way," he warned. "You asked for the lesson. You have just learned the first one. You learn to wield that axe properly and eventually you will have the strength to handle a longbow. Do you still want to learn?"
Ellen looked contrite. "Yes. I am sorry for my impatience. Another lesson learned today. Two lessons in the space of ten minutes." She laughed and took up the axe. The first time she raised it, she brought her hands too far over her head and lost her balance. Stephen laughed as Ellen did a little dance, trying to maintain her footing and balance.
"Bring your hands over your head, not behind it," he advised, demonstrating as he held her hands above her head.
Ellen nodded with understanding. Her first swing missed the log entirely and the axe blade became embedded in the stump. Her arms went numb for a moment and she felt the vibration of the strike all the way up to her shoulders.
Stephen worked the axe free and showed her how to stand, and hold the tool. Ellen learned quickly and soon was able to hit what she aimed for. The pile of firewood grew slowly, despite the unevenness of the pieces. She heard Stephen grunt with satisfaction as he watched her continued efforts. After an hour, as Ellen raised the axe over her head once more, Stephen grabbed at the handle and stopped her downward swing. "That is enough for one day," he advised. "If you do too much at one time, you will do more damage than good. Your arms are going to ache tonight. Use some liniment to ease the pain until you get used to the exercise. I warn you, it will take some time to get used to. Do you wish to continue?"
Ellen was not sure if she was grateful or disappointed when he stopped her. She leaned against the tree stump and rubbed at her arms, which already began to pain her from the exertion, never mind the continued burning sensation from trying to draw the bowstring. For a brief moment, she considered changing her mind, but she was no quitter. She would see this through. If she could get through Father Bernard's taunts, she could get through anything.
* * *
The castle was quiet except for the guards calling out at regular intervals. Ellen heard every call as she lay in agony. Her arms felt as if they were about to fall from her shoulders. She heard someone slip into her room and turned to see who it was.
Kitty climbed onto the high bed and made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged next to her sister. "I brought a poultice to ease your discomfort," she whispered as she uncovered a bowl. "What have you done to cause yourself such pain?"
"What makes you think I am in pain?" Ellen asked belligerently. Her breath hitched as she spoke. Tears threatened to spill.
"It showed in your eyes at supper. Even Papa noticed it." Kitty giggled "I think Aunt Margaret hinted to him it was a female thing and Papa insisted he did not want to know any more."
Ellen started to laugh, then gasped in pain as Kitty raised her arm and wrapped the warm poultice around it, then did the same to the other. Ellen thought the smell was no better than the liniment Stephen suggested she use. The pain began to ease with the warmth, and she relaxed a little.
"What did you do today?" Kitty asked again.
Ellen sensed Kitty's curiosity was getting the best of her. She bit her lip, wondering if she could trust her younger sister with this secret. Kitty had always kept her confidences, but it was different this time. "You must promise not to say anything to anyone."
"Of course I promise," Kitty looked a bit insulted.
"I was chopping firewood."
Kitty's voice rose in surprise. "You were what?" She clamped a hand over her mouth, and glanced toward the door, then leaned forward and spoke just above a whisper. "Why were you chopping wood?"
"Because I want to learn how to use a longbow, and I am not strong enough to handle it."
"And chopping wood will make you stronger?"
"That is what I was told."
"You are truly going to learn to do the things a squire learns?"
"No, I am going to learn to do the things a hunter does. I thank you for the poultice, but you had better return to your bedchamber before Molly sets up an alarm." Ellen watched her sister climb down from the high bed. " Kitty? You'll not forget your promise to keep my secret?"
"I will not forget. Sleep well, Ellen. I truly envy you your need for adventure." Kitty kissed her sister's cheek then slipped out of the room.
Ellen lay back, wondering, not for the first time, if she were not being foolish. She felt left out of things as David and Gordon kept up with their training. She wanted to learn some of the same skills, and saw no reason why a female should not. After all, a woman would not always have a man nearby to defend her. As she groaned in pain, she wondered if it would all be worth the effort. At the moment she had her doubts, but she trusted Stephen to be honest with her. Somehow, she would get past this pain, and prove she could learn the skills of a hunter. Ellen finally drifted off to sleep, wondering what David would have to say this time, if he knew about her new venture.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, Ellen had difficulty concentrating on her lessons. She endured Father Bernard's daily harangue, knowing that more interesting lessons awaited her under Stephen's tutelage. Her mind wandered, until she heard the priest's words, releasing her from his scrutiny. Ellen tried not to hurry from the schoolroom; she didn't want to give him anything more to hold over her head.
Geoffrey waited impatiently in the bailey, holding the mare's reins, and looking a bit worried. "My lady, I cannot attend you today. My presence has been o
rdered in the great hall."
"Then you shall present yourself, as ordered," she commented, stepping on to the mounting block. Geoffrey still had no idea what she was up to, but she was not about to change her plans for lack of an escort.
"But you cannot go alone." Geoffrey stared at her askance. "It is not proper. Let me find someone else to attend you."
"There is no time, Geoffrey, but I thank you for your concern." Ellen mounted her mare, and took the reins the squire held up to her. She surreptitiously plucked at the laces in the front of her dress, knowing she had not done them up properly, in her haste to be away. The mare responded to its rider's signal, trotting out the gate, as iron horseshoes clattered over the wooden drawbridge. One of the guards turned from the guardhouse and watched Ellen ride by. She knew he would report back to her father, but at the moment she was unconcerned. They guards were used to seeing her ride out, and gave it little thought. Leaning forward, Ellen urged Stargazer to a gallop, as a breeze played with wayward strands of loose hair. She felt as one with her mare, the smooth gait taking them across the fields to the tree line. The ride gave Ellen a sense of freedom she experienced nowhere else.
Ellen kicked her foot free of the stirrup and slid down from the saddle. Stephen was sitting in the same spot as the day before, as if he had never left. He lazily stood when Ellen approached.
"I did not expect to see you today. I thought after the work you did yesterday, you would change your mind."
"I am my father's daughter, Stephen. I do not give up easily once my mind is made up to do something."
"Surely a virtue when one's arms are sore to the point of falling off," he chuckled.
"Thanks to one of Kitty's poultices, I was saved from a night of grievous pain. Had I used the liniment as you suggested, the whole castle would have wondered what I was doing." Ellen tugged at the laces on her dress, frustrated with their refusal to come undone.
To Every Love There is a Season: A historical Romance of the Scottish Border in the reign of King Jo Page 4