by Jenny Moss
The fire crackled in the quiet. But then Kenway’s low voice could be heard. “I’ll not waste my life away as—”
“What? As I have?”
Silence again.
“And who is this mysterious girl you’ve brought with you? You…” The rest was so low I missed it. I crept closer to the doorway.
Oh so quietly, I peeked in. Lord Leofwine, such a large man, looked down on his tall son. Sir Kenway wore a loose white shirt and no tunic. His hair was wet as if he had just gotten out of the bath.
“I cannot say,” he told his father.
“You keep secrets from me? You and that old man? There was a time I knew all of Deor’s secrets.”
“Those days are past.”
The smack came loud on Sir Kenway’s face, jerking his head to the side. I almost gasped. He snapped it back and met his father’s angry glare. I saw him clench and unclench his fist and noticed I was doing the same to mine.
“I was the king’s closest friend!” yelled Lord Leofwine.
He turned. I ducked back.
Silence, except for Kenway’s quick breaths. I looked back in.
“You were always a coward, Kenway. I remember how you hid when your mother died.”
He was wrong. Kenway was no coward.
“You mean when I was five, Father.”
“Cowardice always emerges at an early age,” said Lord Leofwine, sneering. “Still seeing ghosts?”
Sir Kenway flinched.
“I should have sent your brother to the castle instead of you.”
“But you could not part with him, my lord, so that wasn’t a path you would have ever taken.”
“You are no longer welcome here.”
“Father,” Sir Kenway said. “I must speak to you about your plans.”
“You will be gone before I wake.”
“You must reconsider your decision to remain. I don’t believe it’s the wisest—”
“Leave me.”
“The girls, Father—”
“Leave me!”
I hid in the shadows while Kenway strode past. In the wild light of his torch, his face looked like the lost boy I had first seen so many years ago. My stomach lurched. I swear I felt my own cheek pound in pain.
I must have made some noise because he turned to look.
“What are you doing there?” he demanded, coming toward me.
I said nothing. I should have been more careful.
He pulled me farther into the shadows. “Eavesdropping?”
I could not deny it.
“And did you hear what you came to hear?” he asked in an angry hush, looking back toward the great hall.
I glanced that way as well, seeing nothing. Was his father listening to us now? “I heard voices. I thought we’d been found.”
He stepped closer, his eyes on mine, his voice low. “You are always where you should not be.” He studied me as if he were just now seeing me, and all I could do was look back. “Why did Eldred trust you, Shadow?”
“I’m not sure he did.”
“He told me to keep you safe, at all costs. Why would the queen’s closest adviser give me such a command?”
I shook my head. “I am as confused as you.”
“And you expect me to believe you?”
“As you say, Eldred must have trusted me.” But as I said the words, even I could not believe them.
“I do not,” he said, but softly, as if he didn’t own the words. He was so near, looking at me in a way I was not accustomed to. I dropped my eyes and found myself staring at the bare neck above his collar. I could not help myself. I wanted to feel his skin just there. I raised my hand; it was shaking. I could see his heart beating.
But he wrapped his fingers around mine, stilling my hand. “Did you kill her? Did you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I didn’t.” I looked up, and there were his eyes.
“Swear it.”
“I do swear. I did not harm her.”
We were both quiet as we looked at each other in this new, close way. We seemed fixed in this place.
“Who are you really?” he asked, in a different voice. “Are you not what you seem?” This softer tone drew me toward him. “Shadow,” he said, his breathing fast. He put his hand on the side of my face, sending a spark through me. I knew what he was feeling. It was desire, curious and sweet. “Such eyes.”
I leaned in, feeling his warm breath upon my mouth, wanting—
“I will speak with you!”
We broke apart. Lord Leofwine stood in the doorway, staring at me.
“What do you want with her, Father?” Kenway asked. He seemed remarkably unflustered, while I felt my face burn red.
“I told you to go,” Lord Leofwine said, turning on his heel and going back into the room. “Come, girl!”
Sir Kenway took my arm. “I’ll see to him.” He jerked his head in the direction of the stairs. “Return to your chamber.”
I pulled out of his grip, looking at him in surprise, wounded he would treat me so after such a moment.
He stared at me, his mouth set in that stubborn line. “Shadow,” he said, his voice now softer.
“I’m not afraid of your father.” I turned away before he could answer.
Lord Leofwine sat in his place, his back to the fire. The smoke of numerous fat candles drifted between our faces. I pulled my dressing gown tighter around me.
I stood at the end of the table, facing him. I couldn’t see his features well. But he could see me, I knew, because torches blazed on the walls beside me. Do not let him frighten you, I thought. I had dealt with old men before. Still, my heart raced.
He drummed his fingers on the table. I waited.
“Tell me your name!” he demanded.
“I have no name, my lord.”
“Don’t play with me. What is your name?”
“It died with my mother, I guess.”
“My son said you are called Shadow.”
“If you knew my name, why did you ask me it?”
His chair skidded back as he sprang to his feet. “You insolent girl! I will turn you out.” I could feel the violence in him, emerging from a soul boiling with bitterness and rage. It made me wonder what he was capable of doing, and what he might have done in his past. I held still.
He came toward me. “How did the queen die?”
“It must have been poison, my lord.”
He pushed his face into mine. I caught my breath. He smelled of old sweat and stale beer. “You were in the bedchamber with her?”
“Sleeping on the floor next to her, my lord.”
“Did you murder her?”
“No.”
“But you are not sorry she’s dead,” he said, startling me. A smile crept across his face. “You are more transparent than you think. Yes, I believe you are a hard-hearted girl.”
This rich old man, who had never had to saddle his own horse or dump his own chamber pot, thought he could judge me. What did he know of the betrayal only the poor and powerless could feel? If my soul was filled with shadows, it was the queen who put that darkness there.
“What does Eldred want with you? What?”
“I don’t know, my lord,” I said.
He crept even closer, thrusting his face into mine, peering at my every feature. “You are familiar to me,” he muttered.
He was half mad, I knew.
“Get out,” he said, quiet now. “Out.”
I backed away, wondering if he’d always been this way. Sir Kenway’s life had not been the easy one I’d imagined.
Once in my chamber, I fell onto my bed, shaking. Despite his age, Lord Leofwine was a formidable man. An intense power emanated from him. He might now be in disgrace, but he was no traitor. His loyalty to the crown did not seem feigned.
But as much as these thoughts confused me, another pushed them away. Sir Kenway. He had almost kissed me, and I was giddy with delight, but that was coupled with a feeling of foolishness. I had observed this s
ame silliness in the queen and silently mocked her for it. I admitted to myself, with reluctance, that I now understood her a little more.
I buried my hands into the down mattress, slipping into its softness, letting it soothe my anxious thoughts. Who knew the touch of a pillow could be so gentle, like a caress upon the cheek?
I should feel gratitude to old Eldred. If not for him, I would not be in this bed. Still, I could feel his icy dead hand upon my back, directing me this way and that. I was free, but he was here, too, pushing Sir Kenway and me to follow his orders from beyond the grave. What could he possibly want of me now that his queen was dead?
I never believed I was actually born at the castle. Fay told me my mother had been a scullery maid. She’d given birth to me in a small cottage inside the walls and that was where she’d died. If so, where was her grave? Not among the bleak tombstones at the edge of the castle grounds. I knew because I’d looked. Fay was not to be trusted anyway.
Perhaps I was found in a quiet village and brought to the queen. A poor orphan to serve her and protect her. Eldred could be sending me back to my birthplace. But why? What did I have that he wanted? Or that he had wanted?
I covered myself with the light sheet, pondering. What would the queen say if she could see me now with silk against my skin? What would she say if she knew her knight had almost kissed me? But I realized, with surprise, that these thoughts brought me no joy, instead only hollowness.
My door creaked open. I froze. If it were the old lord, I would fight him, even if it meant the dungeon for me. But it wasn’t the old lord I saw in the lantern’s light.
I shut my eyes. I felt him looking at me, studying me, trying to decipher me. A strong rush of feeling poured from him, suspicion still, but something else, too, that I couldn’t figure out. My own feelings toward him were just as mixed.
How did I know this?
Sir Kenway continued to stand over me. I could hear him breathing. Did he think he could know my mind by watching me sleep?
He crept back out and closed the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Light taps on my door pulled me from sleep. The moon was still up.
It was Sir Kenway. I felt my cheeks warm as I remembered last night.
He lifted his chin. “It’s time.” His eyes were red, his face drawn. I doubted he’d slept at all. I smiled and stretched, feeling refreshed. Ah, no wonder the queen didn’t wish to rise in the morning—her bed was too soft.
I dressed in clothes that had been left for me. Another linen shift. A light blue dress, fashioned of silk. A wool cloak, soft and thick. Slippers for shoes. Fine leather gloves. Clothes not practical for traveling.
I smoothed down the sheets before I left.
A yawning stable boy was waiting for us, holding the reins of two black horses. Strands of blond hair hung over his pinched and tired face. He hustled away as soon as we were up in the saddles. As we clip-clopped our way through the narrow streets, I thought of Kenway’s slumbering sisters in their beds. Innocents. To what world would they wake?
We rode in the cold dark, not saying a word. But the sun soon rose, softening the sky with pale pinks. This is the color of a mother’s love for a child, I thought.
The land was rolling into low hills, with the mountains of the north in the distance. We took little-trod paths, staying off the main roads, riding at a brisk pace. We traveled mostly through forest, but occasionally rode long stretches through clearings. Sir Kenway was the most anxious during these times, watching all around us, listening.
It was difficult to look at him and not think of last night, how we’d almost kissed. He’d felt the same desire I did, I had seen it in his eyes. But this morning, he was short-tempered and distant. His coldness from the day before had returned.
I remembered how he’d ordered me about when his father interrupted us. He may have almost kissed me, but he still thought of me as lowly Shadow. That realization rankled.
But I would not let him affect my delight over this bright day. Deor might be in decline, but its forests and hills were beautiful. I’d felt no connection to this country, for it had treated me very poorly, but I was finding I appreciated its loveliness.
I lingered to look at a fox peering at me from the brush. I’d never seen a fox. What a rich red coat he wore! He scurried off when Sir Kenway yelled, “You’re lagging behind!”
He couldn’t have been more than thirty feet away.
“Perhaps if you told me where we were going, I would feel more inclined to do as you say.”
He came toward me quickly. His face was dark, reminding me of his father’s. “I will tell you nothing, and you’ll still do as I say.”
I looked to the heavens.
Grabbing my reins, he yanked me closer. I felt my horse resist the pull. His front hooves flew in the air. I clutched at the saddle, the animal’s black mane, anything, to keep from falling. Down the horse came, neighing loudly, and I lurched forward. Then again he reared, and I slid back and back.
“Oof!” Pain shot through my backside when I hit the ground.
Sir Kenway was off his horse, trying to calm mine down. “Get up,” he ordered.
I shot him an angry glance and stood up slowly, wincing. Such throbbing pain. Fury poured through me. I’d been a fool to let him close to me. “Do not take your father’s wrath out on me.”
He reddened. I knew my barb had bit deep. “Which you discovered while spying on me, as you did when I was with the queen.”
“I have no interest in what you do,” I said.
Grabbing my arm tightly, he gave me a long look. “We both know that’s a lie. Get on your horse.”
I yanked away and, quite slowly, did as he said.
The silence was cold between us. Sir Kenway had indeed ruined the lovely day.
When the sun was overhead, we stopped by a clear lake. The horses took long drinks, sending ducks quacking to another part of the water.
I retreated to rest under a nearby elm. Sir Kenway came over to me. He laid his new sword down beside him as if he thought he might need it at any moment. I took the dried figs and bread he offered.
He was alert, looking toward the woods and out across the lake. His vigilance amused me. If Fyren wanted us captured, we’d already be in his hands.
Sir Kenway leaned against the tree, his feet out in front of him. He hadn’t said a word to me since I’d fallen off the horse. I saw no reason to speak to him. His mood was withdrawn and dark.
“The horses need the rest,” he said, “but we should not stay long.”
I bit off a piece of bread and kept silent.
“I didn’t mean for you to fall,” he continued.
I narrowed my eyes, suspicious.
“You were clumsy,” he said.
“How you charm me,” I said.
He looked discomfited. A knight, even an arrogant one, did not like to be thought uncourtly. Or at least not this one, I thought. “Your looks have improved,” he said as if this would please me.
A sweet feeling tingled in my stomach. But his compliment was not for me; rather, it was for my fine dress. The rich are always fascinated by rich things. I was no different from the poorly clothed girl of the day before. I sat cross-legged underneath my silk skirts, leaning over my food. I must admit, though, I liked the feel of the silk.
“Your father’s wife is not your mother?” I asked, trying to provoke him. I stuck a fig in my mouth. It was so sweet.
His eyes flashed. “My mother died when I was five.”
We had something in common, at least. “You do not like your father’s wife?”
“She’s common, not worthy to be the wife of a lord,” he said.
“Then your sisters are common, too?”
His face twitched. So he did love his sisters. I thought better of him for loving someone other than the queen.
“I don’t understand,” I said, looking at him directly. “Why didn’t you stay with your father? Eldred is dead, and so are his sch
emes. You and I don’t have to follow his wishes anymore.”
He snorted. “That is exactly how I would expect you to see it.”
“Yes, that’s how I see it. But I asked why you do not.”
“Where is your sense of duty? Deor is your country, too.”
I gave a quick nod. “Kind of you to acknowledge it.” I was a little surprised he thought the kingdom belonged to all countrymen, not only the nobility.
“You don’t deserve it.”
“Perhaps it hasn’t been as good to me.”
He watched me closely. I was accustomed to the look. It was distrust. “You are friends with the regent,” he said.
I gave out an unladylike snort. “We are not friends. He is the regent, and I am lowly born, as you said.”
“Why did he visit you in the dungeon?”
I looked up into his narrowed eyes.
“He freed me,” I said carefully. “Eldred and Piers were with him.”
“Not that visit. The one before that.”
I could only stare at him. How had he known? The only secrets in that castle were the ones kept from me.
“What bargain did you make with him, Shadow?”
“We made no bargain.”
“Why did he visit you then?” he asked coldly. I could sense something in him, like jealousy. But it could not be that.
I thought about my answer. If I kept the truth from him, he would suspect me of worse. Still, I was reluctant to give him any information. He didn’t have a right to it. “He wanted me to do something for him, it is true, but I refused.”
“What did he want?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t tell me.”
“And you didn’t ask,” he said.
“I did, but I was afraid to know.”
His mouth was set in a grim line. “You could have saved her.”
“Saved her? The queen?”
“Just days before her murder, he asks you for a favor. You! What favor could you give him that didn’t involve the queen?”
Must he always accuse me? “I concede, Sir Kenway, I might have found out something useful. But I thought it best not to be entangled in any of Fyren’s schemes. What could I have done? I am not one of you.”
“You might have pretended to go along so you could discover what he wanted. But instead you did nothing.” He stared at me. “You killed her anyway.”