Summers at Castle Auburn

by Sharon Shinn

  The remorseful words made the tears come faster. My head was pounding and my left shoulder, which had also taken some of the brunt of the fall, was cramping with its own unfriendly ache. “I didn’t mean to do it,” I whispered. “I’ll be more careful in the future—”

  To my surprise, he took me in a quick and comforting hug, being very careful not to disarrange me. “Of course you will. I’m sorry. Stop crying now, please? I really am sorry.”

  So I tried to stop and he pulled out a handkerchief—which I think I was meant to use to dry my eyes, but I used it to blow my nose. He was not interested in having it returned to him after that. Still, he pulled up a stool and sat by me for the rest of the hour. I was quite cheered up by the time he left—and even more cheered up the next afternoon when he brought me a vase full of flowers.

  “To apologize,” he said. “And to brighten your room. Where do you want me to set them?”

  “Right there on that little table, where I can see them. Thank you so much! That was so thoughtful!”

  I was feeling better, and he was still feeling guilty, so he stayed two whole hours and played board games with me. I was never much of an opponent at contests like these, but he was both patient and generous, and did not defeat me too dreadfully. I was laughing when he left. It was quite the most pleasant time I spent during my recuperation—until Bryan came to see me, of course.

  I did not get another extended visit with Kent until the day after the hunt, about which I had heard very few details. The hunting party was out quite late, returning just in time for the evening meal and a small musicale to be held that evening. None of my regular visitors came by to give me any news, and when I demanded information of Cressida, she had very little to tell.

  “Yes, the animal was killed. That’s all I know,” she said that night as she helped me from my clothes and into my nightdress. I was feeling pretty healthy this day, so her unhurried ministrations were making me feel a little impatient. “I don’t know who brought it down. You can find all that out tomorrow.”

  And, indeed, Angela and Marian arrived the next afternoon with tales they had gleaned at supper, though they did not include the name of the victorious hunter. “No, it was not Bryan who shot the wolf,” Marian said. “None of the nobles, in fact.”

  “I heard it was one of the guards,” Angela said.

  “But that’s not what everyone is talking about,” Marian said excitedly. “Lady Doreen was riding sidesaddle, with her skirts arranged just so all around her, until they rode off the road through a little grove—”

  “And her skirt got caught on a branch and the whole thing was pulled right up to her head—petticoats and all! Everyone could see her drawers—”

  “And she couldn’t free herself from the branch, and the horse went skittish and started turning in circles, and the skirts got more and more tangled up—”

  “And she was shrieking—”

  “And everyone was laughing too hard to help her—”

  “Till Kent came riding up from the rear of the party and cut her loose,” Angela finished. “Too bad, because if anyone deserves to be humiliated before Bryan and the whole court it is Lady Doreen.”

  “Did you see him talking to her last night?” Marian demanded of her cousin.

  “Talking to her,” Angela returned. “Staring at her is more like it. Well, Corie, the dress she wore—bright red and cut so low that if I ever wore it in public, my mother would disown me.”

  The gossip continued for another half hour or so. It wasn’t until they left and Kent dropped by that I learned what I really wanted to know.

  “Roderick killed that wolf, didn’t he?” I asked almost as soon as Kent had stepped into the room.

  He had brought me a treat from the kitchen, a chocolate confection from the night before. “One shot. He and Kritlin and I had fallen back to keep clear of the noise of the crowd. We knew we were close, though, because we’d seen his tracks, and they were pretty fresh. Still, I wouldn’t have known which way to turn, but Roderick’s got a natural instinct for hunting. Took us over a couple of hills and across a little creek. We waited for five minutes, and there it was. Looking pretty ragged, too, wild-eyed and crazy. Roderick just took aim and brought it down. No fuss, no horns, no dogs. Nobody hurt. Kritlin was impressed, I could tell. So was I.”

  “I knew it was him,” I said in satisfaction.

  Kent gave me a long unreadable look. “He asked after you. Said Elisandra had sent word to the stables a few days ago that you were recovering, but he hadn’t heard anything since. He seemed a little worried.”

  This pleased me no end. “I’m fine. Did you tell him I was fine?”

  “I told him.”

  “Did he say anything else? Send me a message?”

  “Guardsmen don’t usually send messages to noblewomen via the prince’s cousin,” Kent said dryly.

  “I’m not a noblewoman,” was all I could think to say.

  Kent rose to his feet, though when he had entered I had for some reason thought he planned to stay awhile. “He seems to think you are,” he said. “And you could be if you acted like one.”

  Back to criticizing my behavior. Just as well if he left, then. “Well, thank you for the dessert,” I said.

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you are.”

  But he didn’t need to. The next day I decided of my own accord that I was well enough to bathe, dress, and walk around on my own. I rejoined the ranks of the whole and healthy as they sashayed through Castle Auburn.

  5

  I was not much of a celebrity once I emerged from the sickroom. Bryan never thought to ask after my well-being again, and Kent was busy with the delegation from Mellidon. Even Marian and Angela were consumed with other matters. Their families were planning an extended visit to Faelyn Market, and they were obsessed with discussing which clothes they should bring and what prominent families they might meet on their sojourn.

  Still, it was a relief to be back among the ordinary again, eating the communal dinners, drinking the famous waters, attending whatever event was scheduled for the evening. There were no more grand balls this late in the summer season, but there were musical evenings and card parties and informal dances. The next two weeks flew by.

  I spent part of two days posing for the illustrious painter who had arrived at court while I was still in bed. He was young and very dramatic looking, with long sweeping blond hair and an accent that I could not identify. He was constantly directing me to alter my pose—“You! Lift that head!” or “You! Girl! Turn your eyes this way!”—and I tried not to let his peremptory tone annoy me. It was just as well that I was still feeling a little lethargic or I would never have been able to sit quietly for the hours that he required. Yet the finished portrait was good. Elisandra loved it, and even Kent agreed that the man had quite caught my look. He did not say it as if it was a compliment, however, so I was not sure how to take the remark.

  I also went looking for Roderick as soon as I had a free hour, though at first I could not find him in any of the places that were public enough for a half-noblewoman to seek out a guardsman. But after three days of loitering near the weapons yard, I finally caught him practicing his maneuvers with a few other young men. I sat on the fence and watched. I still did not know enough about weaponry to judge his skills, but I decided to be impressed anyway.

  I was sure he saw me right away—Roderick was the sort who would notice any spectators, whether he liked them or not—but he took his time about coming over to me once his bouts were ended. First he discussed some fine point of attack with his erstwhile opponent, then he inspected some imagined nick in his blade, then he conferred with the weapons master about some private matter. Finally he shrugged, picked up his discarded gloves, and sauntered to my side.

  “They’ve let you out of your room, I see,” he said in his unhurried way.

  I noticed that he had not asked me how I was feeling, so I didn’t bother to assure hi
m that I was fine. “Yes, finally. I got tired of all the fussing.”

  “I’m not sure I’d ever get tired of fussing,” he said mildly. “I’ve never had a surfeit so far.”

  “I just wanted to tell you . . .” I said. “I just wanted to thank you—for bringing me home safely.”

  He shrugged. “Anyone could have scooped you off the ground and hauled you back,” he said, most unromantically. “Your sister could have done it if you two had been out alone.”

  I took a breath and held on to my temper. “But the fact remains that it was you, and I wanted to let you know I appreciated it. However ungracious you were,” I could not stop from adding, “when you threatened to leave me behind.”

  Now his grin lit his face with a sunny halo. “That was ill-done of me,” he admitted. “But I was frightened and worried, so I talked cruel to cover it up.”

  “You were not the least bit worried. You were angry.”

  “That, too.”

  “So I’ll be more careful in the future.” There seemed to be nothing more to say on this topic, so I changed the subject. “And I understand you’re the one who brought down the wolf! Congratulations. Did you win the prize? A gold ring, I think it was?”

  He nodded and reached inside his shirt. On a plain silver chain the decorated gold band looked glorious and out of place. I was not surprised he did not wear it on his hand; it would have gone oddly with his rough cotton clothes and battle gear. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he said, allowing himself to sound pleased. “Lord Matthew himself brought it to me, Kent at his heels. That made me proud, the recognition of a job well done. Some places the promised rewards don’t always materialize.”

  I admired it a moment, then glanced back at his face with a smile on my own. “Now you can hunt aliora and be safe,” I said.

  He tucked the ring back inside his shirt. “I might be safe, but I don’t think that’s a prey I’ll be hunting,” he said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He looked at me consideringly. I could not tell if he thought I should already know the answer or if he thought I was too witless to understand it. “I’d trap a falcon to train for the hunt. I’d catch a wild horse and break it to ride. Might even try to raise wolf cubs—some men have done it, kept them as pets, though they’re wilder than any dog. But I wouldn’t hunt a creature that looks and moves and talks like a man just to sell him to slavery. I’d rather kill him outright.”

  My breath had caught somewhere in my chest, and I couldn’t breathe past the constriction. “But aliora are—they’re not humans, everybody says so—and anyway, they steal us. Human children, I mean—”

  He shrugged. “No one I know was ever taken by an aliora.”

  “But then—but you—if the stories aren’t true . . .”

  “Didn’t say that, either. Just said I couldn’t prove them.”

  “But you went with us. On the hunt,” I said stupidly.

  He smiled. “There was no way that group was going to bring back trophies,” he said. “Anyway, I was ordered along to protect the prince. I wasn’t asked to bring in specimens. And I wouldn’t have.”

  I just stared up at him, unable to come up with any more words. I had never before heard anyone compare aliora to men and women. It had not occurred to me that anyone rated them at such a high level. I had realized—vaguely, uncomfortably—that the aliora themselves were anxious to see no more of their kin captured. But that was fellow feeling; that made sense. Everyone in the royal household took the aliora slaves for granted, a right—even a necessity. It had not occurred to me to question the arrangement.

  I was silent so long that Roderick’s smile faded and returned. “New thoughts come hard to a noblewoman, I see,” he commented in a soft voice.

  “Half-noble,” I corrected absently.

  “Then perhaps they come twice as fast.”

  “But do you think—” I began, but he flung up a hand.

  “That is the end of the subject,” he said. “I was due back at the guardhouse five minutes ago. I’m glad to see you on your feet and looking a little less like death. Take care of yourself over the winter.”

  He smiled again, touched his fist to his forehead, and strode away.

  A WEEK LATER Jaxon was back and summer was over and it was time for me to leave.

  Upon his arrival, Jaxon had been gratifyingly alarmed to learn of my fall, and wanted to see with his own eyes that I was properly healed. So he stood over me and pushed back the heavy dark hair along my scalp and peered down at the bruises.

  “Well, you look fine enough now,” was his gruff assessment, though I’m sure he could tell nothing at all. “How are you feeling? Ever get dizzy? Ever wake up with headaches in the night?”

  “No, I’m fine—no symptoms—no pain.”

  “I planned to have you ride back beside me, but maybe I’d better borrow a carriage and a driver—”

  “No, truly, I’ve been riding three times since then, and I managed to do very well, thank you.”

  “Well, we’ll take it by easy stages, at any rate,” he said, still frowning. “But I’ve got to be back at Halsing Manor in two weeks’ time, which doesn’t give me much leeway for dallying on the road.”

  “I won’t be any trouble.”

  I was sad to be leaving Castle Auburn, though, and the melancholy sometimes did spark a return of my headache. In her quiet way, Elisandra seemed equally heartsick. Her smiles were fewer and her eyes, when they rested on me, seemed to absorb my smallest gesture for future safekeeping. She said very little, but brought me presents almost every day of my final week in the castle—little baubles, jeweled hairpins, books, scarves. On the evening before the morning I was to leave, she offered me a small box tied with a gold bow.

  “I brought you a present,” she announced as she came into my room.

  “Another one! You’re spoiling me.”

  “I want to spoil you. Here. Open it now.”

  So we sat side by side on my bed, and I unwrapped the little box. Inside lay a ceramic pendant no bigger than my two thumbs laid side by side, and on the pendant was painted Elisandra’s picture.

  My mouth formed a silent “O” and I lifted the cameo out by a length of green ribbon. “El-i-san-dra,” I managed. “This is so beautiful—”

  “Lord Matthew said there wasn’t time for one more portrait, but Camilio agreed to stay late one day and do this in one sitting. I told him how important it was for me to be able to give it to you. He wouldn’t even take any money for it.”

  I instantly forgave the theatrical Camilio for all his arrogance. “I love it! And I can keep it? And I can wear it on this little ribbon?”

  She laughed. “Perhaps not around Lord Matthew. When you’re back at your grandmother’s.”

  I sighed. “Which will be in a few days. We leave in the morning.”

  “I know. I’ll miss you.”

  I gestured in the general direction of her room, where the hand-drawn map lay in her drawer. “Come visit.”

  Her face still held its characteristic stillness, but I thought I saw a wistful longing cross her features. “Maybe this year,” she said in a low voice. “I would like to try.”

  She stayed late, and we sat up talking while I finished my packing. But eventually we were both too sleepy to stay up any longer, and we parted. In the morning, there was a frenzy of final orders, Jaxon striding through the hallways, the servants running in all directions, Greta arguing with someone about a matter I never did sort out. Kent dropped by to watch the commotion and managed to give me a hug before Jaxon swept me out of the room.

  Elisandra stood on the side of the room, watching all the chaos, her hand against the wall, saying nothing. Just as Jaxon was insisting we leave now, damn it, I rushed back to give her one final fierce embrace. Then we were out the door, down the hallway, mounted on the horses, and headed past the great fountain toward the massive gate. Two guards from Jaxon’s household rode with us, one of them leading a packhorse with all my pos
sessions on it. A few people waved goodbye as we rode past, but there were not many in the courtyard to see us off. Soon enough, we were outside the castle gate and turning in the direction of home.

  IN HER WAY, my grandmother was pleased to see me. It was not in her to be effusive. In fact, though Jaxon and I rode up to the cottage with something of a clatter, Jaxon shouting out directions to his guards and me laughing from excitement, she did not come running through the front door to greet us. I dismounted, threw my reins to Jaxon and ran inside. I found her in the kitchen stirring herbs into a cauldron, her eyes fixed on the recipe in some worn old hand-stitched book.

  “Grandmother!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms around her. She nodded absently, her gaze still fixed on her page, and put her free arm around my shoulder.

  “Yes, good. I see you’re back, Corie,” she said. “Are you hungry? I won’t be finished here for a while, but there’s plenty of food in the pantry.”

  Much different from Elisandra’s happy hugs when I arrived at Castle Auburn every summer.

  “In a little while. Grandmother, we just got here. Come out and say hello to Uncle Jaxon.”

  She grimaced. She didn’t care for Jaxon any more than Greta cared for me. “Corie, I can’t stir a step from this spot until the whole mixture is dissolved. If he wants to talk to me, have him come right in.”

  I sighed and disentangled myself. “I’ll go fetch him.”

  I went back outside to find Jaxon and his men had already unloaded most of my possessions. Jaxon hoisted a stuffed bag to his shoulder and asked, “Is it safe to go inside?”

  I shrugged and nodded. “She’s too busy to come out and greet you.”

  “She always is.”

  Soon enough, my belongings were all stowed inside and Jaxon’s men were again in the saddle, awaiting the order to ride out. Jaxon himself took a few minutes to say goodbye, promise to write, and make plans to come fetch me next summer.

  “You be good now” were his parting words. Then he kissed me on the cheek, swung back into the saddle, and waved goodbye. I watched them ride down the dirt road, which was quickly swallowed up by scraggly forest, and waved halfheartedly for as long as I thought there was a chance Jaxon might look back. Then I sighed again, silently this time, and headed back inside the cottage.