by Jenny Moss
Sir Kenway pulled at a large stone in the wall. He gestured for me to help. It was a struggle for us to move it, but we did at last.
We slipped through an opening, arriving behind a house built close to the wall. Sir Kenway moved into a back alley.
My heart was beating fast, from the exertion, and also excitement. Our nighttime prowling reminded me of my attempts at escape. I’d found it exhilarating to move about in the dark while those with casual liberty were in their beds.
The alley spilled out onto a narrow road. Buildings, mostly made of wood and weed, lined the street on each side. Some hung over our heads. With the moon’s help, we made our way. The town slept.
We moved around and around in a spiral, circling up and up until we arrived at another high wall. Between two lit torches, Sir Kenway clambered up the side, stepping on uneven stones as if they were the rungs of a ladder.
I was close behind him. As I climbed higher, a cool wind whipped my cloak and my hair around me. The height and the darkness were thrilling.
At the top, Sir Kenway sauntered along a six-inch-wide ridge. He glanced back. His look seemed to challenge me. The ground on the outside wall fell farther away, but that on the inside wall drew up to meet us. When we jumped, it was but a three-foot drop.
The stone courtyard was empty, but lit by torches. Large open windows looked down on us, so we darted in and out of the shadows. We slipped in a side window that had no covering cloth and through small rooms that fell one into the other. Not like the queen’s castle, where everything was large and open.
Loud voices came through an open door. I smelled broiled fish and freshly baked bread. I followed Sir Kenway into a large room. A sea of faces looked back at me.
“Kenway?” asked one.
“What is wrong?” shouted another.
He quieted them.
I was introduced as Shadow.
Chapter Twelve
“Father, have you seen anyone from the castle?” Sir Kenway asked. “Any of the queen’s men?”
He leaned forward over one end of the long trestle table, his hands pressing against the rough wood. I stood behind him. His father, Lord Leofwine, sat in a large wooden chair at the other end.
The room was long and narrow, with no windows. Smoking torches lined the walls. Platters with spiced fish and roast swan covered the table, along with numerous burning candles. My stomach rumbled.
“We have seen no one from the castle,” said Lord Leofwine, pushing his thick silver hair off his forehead. He was a large man, with broad shoulders that belied his age. But the edges of his watery eyes bore the creases of time.
Saliva, carrying a bitter taste, filled my mouth. I felt a rage in him, rooted deep. It was the strangest sensation, to feel it in me, and to know it was his feeling. Thankfully, the moment passed quickly. I dismissed it as my imagination. What else could it be?
The servants—an angular-faced girl and a sour-mouthed man—turned to leave, but Sir Kenway gestured for them to stop. “I don’t recognize these servants, Father.”
Lord Leofwine waved them out of the room. “They are loyal and tight-lipped.”
Four people, other than Lord Leofwine, remained: a pretty woman not yet thirty, a young man who was a slightly older version of Sir Kenway, and two young girls.
The fire behind Lord Leofwine crackled and sputtered. The room smelled of smoke, and of the perfume reeking from its inhabitants.
The young man stood, his silk clothes swishing as he moved. “My brother, why are you here? What has happened?”
“The queen is dead, Darwin,” said Sir Kenway. His voice cracked, lost and desperate, as if he was seeking comfort now that he was home.
His father’s face darkened.
Sir Kenway hung his head. “I’m sorry, Father.”
The lord’s eyes were on his son, but he seemed to be looking into himself. “The past clings to us.”
All began talking, words spilling on top of one another. Sir Kenway straightened. I heard him take a breath. “You must listen.”
They were still, and he related the events of the morning.
This family’s fate was tied to the queen’s. I sensed their fear—dark, rising, reaching for me, too. I fought a feeling of dread. They were not safe.
The woman leaped up, her eyes and hands in a panic. “My husband, what will happen to our daughters?”
Sir Kenway’s brother glanced her way, disgust clear on his face. I could not tell to whom she spoke: the brother or the father. She was too young to be Sir Kenway’s mother.
“Be quiet!” ordered Lord Leofwine, his deep voice booming.
She fell back into the seat, slumping over. The two girls huddled to her. The older one, her own lip trembling, patted her mother’s arm.
“It is odd you haven’t heard this yet,” I said. They stared at me then. “The castle is close by horseback.”
Lord Leofwine gave me a cold look. I knew he thought me insolent. But it was pure joy to give voice to my thoughts without the queen shrieking at me to be quiet.
“My lord,” I continued, “you were not meant to know it. Yet.”
Sir Kenway’s eyes were on me, hot as the fire. “It’s not your place to speak here, Shadow.” His voice was low, threatening.
He was wrong. The queen’s death had freed me, and no one could take that from me now.
“It was the regent who murdered Queen Audrey,” he said. “In her sleep.” He looked at me when he said it, his belief of my guilt still in his eyes.
Lord Leofwine gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward. “Do you have proof?”
Sir Kenway hesitated. “I didn’t see him do it, but I believe it was Fyren. The advisers were afraid it might be so.”
What he said was most likely true. It must be Fyren, or else Lord Leofwine would have heard the news from men loyal to him. Only Fyren had the power to conceal the truth this long.
“Either Fyren killed her or he himself is dead,” I said.
“He did it,” Kenway said, warning me with his eyes.
“The devil himself,” Lord Leofwine muttered.
The woman grabbed his hand, her face wet with tears. “We must leave, my husband. We must.”
But Lord Leofwine shook her off, and she crumpled back into her daughters. With their dimpled cheeks and chestnut hair, they resembled their mother. The older girl stared at me with pensive blue eyes, though very unlike her mother’s small brown ones. She tucked her younger sister closer to her.
“We are loyal to the queen,” said Lord Leofwine, his eyes clouding over. He seemed…ashamed.
“She’s dead!” yelled his wife, grabbing his hand again. “What good will our loyalty serve us now?”
He wrenched out of her grip. “We stay with our town.”
“Shadow and I must leave before the sun breaks,” said Sir Kenway. “I’ll need horses.” He flushed. “And a new sword…Everything happened so quickly…I had to leave mine behind.”
“You idiot,” spat his father.
Darwin glanced away. Their reaction irritated me. It might be embarrassing for a knight to lose his sword, but it did not mean he was inept.
Sir Kenway’s cheek twitched. “Fyren’s troops will be here soon. Our lands, our town is too valuable. He’ll try to take it. And soon.”
“How do you know he’s not on your heels?” Darwin asked.
“He’ll move on Lord Callus first. I am most certain he has already done this. If he takes that town, he’ll be here, I know it.”
“I think you know little for certain, Kenway,” said Lord Leofwine.
Kenway ignored this. “You must leave, Father.”
“Is that all you can think of? Running? Fyren will be our kingdom’s undoing if he’s not stopped.”
I felt sorry for Sir Kenway, the way he stood there, so shaken by his father’s vehemence, but resolute. He leaned forward. “Father. If you leave, we can regroup. Retreat to Lord Heaton’s castle. It is farther from Fyren, and easier to defen
d. Send word out to Redway and Winbolt to meet you. We can rally there.”
I saw the wisdom in his plan.
His father rose. “We stay, even if you desert us.”
“The advisers gave me a task to do.” Sir Kenway looked at me. “We must do it.”
And why must I do it if you were given the task? I thought.
Lord Leofwine scowled. “Elene!” he bellowed. He looked soberly at his son. “We must talk.”
The bread and yellow cheese on the table were within my reach. My stomach rumbled again loudly.
“Take it,” said Sir Kenway, waving his hand. I did.
The angular-faced girl appeared, holding a thick, burning candle.
“Find the girl a place with the servants,” Lord Leofwine said, gesturing at me.
“No,” said Sir Kenway. He closed his eyes, shaking his head a little. “Elene, take her to the bedchamber next to mine.”
The old man gave out a knowing laugh, and his wife eyed me with a disgusted look. My face felt hot. I was suddenly awkward, as silly as the queen’s ladies. Even Sir Kenway seemed ill at ease, which made me blush more.
Elene led me down a long passage, lit by torches, which ended at a flight of stairs. All the while, I gobbled up the bread and cheese. At the top of the steps, we passed through a thick wooden door.
The chamber was small, but everything in it was rich and fine. The servant lit a fire while I looked about. One large window overlooked the town and beyond it. I stuck my head out and breathed in the cold air. I could see only what the moon would allow, but it was clear the drop was too far to the roof below. I could not escape through the window.
The four-poster bed was raised high off the floor. Deep blue blankets were piled on top of the mattress. Not the queen’s luxury, but close to it. I felt a smile twitching at my lips. This chamber was delightful.
Elene closed the window, shutting out the cold. She curtsied before turning toward the door.
“Why do you curtsy?” I asked her. “Surely you know I’m not a lady, especially in these coarse and dirty clothes?”
Her face was in the fire’s shadows. “You hold yourself like a lady. And speak like one.”
“But I am not one.” I looked around me. “Is this where I sleep?”
“Is it not to your liking?” she asked. I laughed. I had never slept in a bed. “Leave me, if you will. I’m settled here now.”
I was anxious and wanted to be alone.
When she’d gone, I buried my hands deep in the chill of the covers. What softness. I laid my head against a pillow and sank into the down feather mattress. I could feel the tension leave my legs and arms, my back, my neck. The rich should never be cross or cruel. They had such comforts.
There was a tap on the door. It was one of Sir Kenway’s sisters, who could not be more than nine or ten. She looked at me in her brother’s earnest way. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” I said, eyeing her. But I doubted she could be much trouble. And her serious nature appealed to me.
But with my nod, she dashed across the floor in her silk shoes, slipping on the rushes. She threw herself upon the soft bed.
“Will you marry Kenway?” she asked, peeking out of the covers at me with shining eyes.
Startled by this sudden change in her, I did not answer, but pulled the heavy blankets around me. The large fire crackled, but its warmth had not reached us yet.
She dropped the covers, showing her sweet face. “You don’t want to marry him?”
“Your brother’s a knight. I am less than common. There will be no wedding for the two of us.”
She crinkled her nose. “You are filthy.”
I sighed. “It’s true,” I agreed, thinking of the bath I almost had the day before.
“But you have lovely eyes,” she said quickly. “They are a little odd, but lovely. Like the sky right before nightfall. A deep blue, like that.” She kept looking. “But not exactly like that. But they are beautiful, your best feature.”
She was less like her brother than I’d thought. She knew more words than he, or at least she used them more. And I knew Sir Kenway did not find any part of me beautiful and would never say it if he did.
“How long have you known my brother?” she asked.
“Since he came to the queen four years ago.”
“Father sent him there,” she said, lying on her stomach and cupping her little face with her hands. “He didn’t want to, even if Kenway was always in trouble.” She knocked her slippered feet together as she spoke. “My brother would never listen or do what he was told.”
“I remember when he was like that,” I said. “He changed.”
“Yes, he is different than he was.”
“Always doing what he is told now, I think.”
“He does what he thinks is right! He’s a loyal knight to the queen.” She hesitated. “But now she is dead.”
She looked a little worried, but I didn’t know what to say to her. “Tell me, why didn’t your father want to send your brother to the castle?”
A few wispy strands of hair fell into her eyes as she moved about. “Because the regent is there.”
“Ah. Then why did the lord, your father, send him there at all?” I leaned toward her to brush those locks away.
As I came close, she turned up her nose, then pinched it. “To redeem our honor,” she said in a nasal voice.
I laughed. “Do I smell?” I sniffed my clothes. “Do I?”
“You need a bath,” she said, looking so full of sorrow I laughed again.
“I think you are right,” I said. “If only I could.”
“I’ll find Elene.” She ran out of the chamber, yelling for the servant girl.
The two returned. The servant’s face was pinched in irritation. But she did as her young mistress bade her, making me a hot bath, with water hauled up from the kitchen and heated over the fire. The little girl put candles all around the floor before she left for her own bedchamber for the night.
As Elene poured in the last steaming bucket, I noticed a wooden medallion hanging from a piece of twine about her neck. The carving was intricate and detailed, but difficult to see in only candlelight. I thought I saw a woman’s face upon it.
“What is that?” I asked. “It’s beautiful.”
She gave me a weary smile. “Why, it’s the mother of us all.”
I didn’t know what she meant, but it was clear she thought I should. “Where did you get it?”
“From my father. He lived in the mountains to the north and made it for me many years ago. It is a treasure. Not many exist.” She studied my face for a moment, and I wondered at her thoughts. But then she just shook her head and mumbled to herself. I reached for the medallion, but she tucked it into her dress. “Come on. Let’s get you clean,” she said, not unkindly. She was tired, I was sure, and had had enough of me.
I had never had a bath.
Water dripped from the wooden tub. I stepped in carefully, feeling the delicious heat pull at my toe, then foot, then ankle, then calf. Finally, I stood with both feet in, and then dropped down, bottom to the tub floor. My body sank into bliss. I closed my eyes and sighed as my sore muscles relaxed.
The girl scrubbed my scalp and cleaned my teeth. She brushed out my hair, each stroke upon my head a scratchy pleasure, and dried it in the heat from the fire.
She settled me into my sheets and covers, and blew out the candles. Even her quiet shutting of the door added to my feeling of peace.
I listened to her retreating footsteps, humming a little to myself. I had never been so comfortable, so clean, and surrounded by such softness. Then I remembered, the thought jarring me: I should be planning my escape. Soon all would be sleeping, and I must leave.
I must.
I closed my eyes. The sheets smelled so fresh. I smelled so fresh. I didn’t drift into sleep, though; my body seemed to be on edge, as if it was waiting. But for what? A sign that the house was quiet? That all were in bed?
In the di
stance, I heard footsteps, a door shut close by. Noise drifted in through the connecting door. I heard a cough and knew it was Sir Kenway. Quiet again.
I dreamed of baths, dry fountains, headless statues, medallions…and Piers, his gray eyes accusing me.
Chapter Thirteen
I awoke to shouting.
It was dark, not yet dawn. I pushed Piers from my thoughts, as well as my memory of the grim morning before when I’d found the queen.
I sat up, listening.
Quiet.
Had we been discovered? So soon? Were we so valuable? I cursed. I’d been foolish. I should have fled during the night.
I got up and crossed the chamber, stepping into the passageway. The torches were low, so I could see little. I peered through the open doorway of Sir Kenway’s large bedchamber to my left. The fire still burned strong, but his room was empty. A large tub of water stood in front of the fireplace.
I hesitated, shivering in my white shift. It was time to leave this place. I headed back to my own chamber to find my clothes. But then I heard shouting again. I put on the thick dressing gown lying at the foot of the bed. Grabbing a torch, I lit it in the fire, welcoming the rush of heat on my face.
Then I plunged back into the cold, drafty passageway.
Shadows flitted up and down the stone walls. All the other doors were shut. Did no one else hear this shouting?
Carefully, I took the stairs. This could not be Fyren’s men. The shouting was sporadic and brief, breaking open the quiet for just a moment before retreating again.
I placed the torch in an empty iron brace at the foot of the stairs. Agitated voices came out of the great hall the family dined in. I pressed my back to the hard wall and listened.
“How could you do this, Kenway? How could you let this happen?”
“I could do nothing to stop it, sir.”
“You have failed me, then! And you’ll be judged by that failure.”
“Judged by whom? By you?”
“By yourself.”