by Barb Hendee
I smiled at him, and to my joy, he smiled back.
Then as he kept coming toward us on his step-drag-step-drag-step, his eyes turned to Jarrod and the color drained from his face.
Jarrod didn’t smile nor watch Kai with pride. His expression was tight and strained.
“You rode out?” he asked, though we both knew he had.
“Yes,” Kai answered uncertainly. “The wheat is ready to thresh.”
“Did you stay on your horse?”
“No, not all the time. I needed to speak with some of the workers.”
“So they saw you . . . like that?”
Kai’s already pale face turned ashen, and I wanted to strike Jarrod. All of Kai’s happiness was gone. He would have been grateful for the success of his day, with a promise of the future he’d wanted as a lord of the Volodane lands. But his father would never see him as anything but a limping cripple.
Nothing I did, nothing Captain Marcel did, could change this.
Early in Kai’s recovery, an idea had come to me, but he’d been doing so well on his own I had not voiced my thoughts. Now, I realized that if I wished to save my husband, two things had to happen. First, I needed to get him away from his father, and second, I needed to help him heal his leg.
“My lord,” I said, turning to Jarrod. “I have remembered something I wished to share with you.”
His eyes were still on Kai. “Mmmmmm?”
“My mother has a cousin who lives on the west coast, near Avingion. I call him my uncle even though he is not. He and his wife own a line of fishing vessels, and my sister and I often spent time in the summers with their family.”
Annoyed, Jarrod glanced at me. “And?”
“I remember an event where a first mate of one of the ships was badly injured by a whaling hook that cut into the back of his leg. The sand along that stretch of beach is deep, and once the wound was healed, my uncle had this man walk and walk in the sand to strengthen the leg. It worked.”
Now, I had his full attention.
“What?” he asked, and then I could see him thinking. “That could work. If I send a fast horseman with a message ahead of you, would they welcome you on few days’ notice?”
“Yes.”
Kai limped closer, mortification turning to anger. “I can’t go to the west coast. The crops are about to come in.”
Jarrod motioned to his leg. “Fixing that is more important. If need be, I can take a wagon out to oversee the harvest and give Captain Marcel instructions for places I can’t go.”
“No. I’m not going to the coast.”
“You’ll go where I tell you.”
“Into banishment until I can walk without a limp?”
“You’re no good to me like that! What will the other nobles say when you come into a room dragging your leg like a cripple?”
Kai went silent. His father had not given up the dream of placing at least one son on the Council of Nobles. Worse, he was ashamed of Kai, embarrassed by him.
I felt ill. Yes, it seemed that I would be allowed to take Kai away from here, take him to the coast, but at what price? My husband’s glare moved to me as if I were the cause of his banishment.
Chapter 19
Two days later, Kai and I left for Avingion. We took a small retinue of guards, but I left Miriam at home. I wanted as few people from the hall as possible. If Kai was to come back to himself, he needed a complete change of scene.
He didn’t say a word to me for the entire journey, and we slept in separate rooms at inns along the way.
Jarrod had sent a rider ahead with a message to my uncle and aunt, informing them of our pending arrival, and in spite of Kai’s anger, I couldn’t help looking forward to the visit. My mother’s cousin, Andre Calais, and his wife, Margaret, had been an important part of my childhood. They weren’t really my parents’ type of people, and my mother sometimes showed reticence in claiming Uncle Andre as kin. But Andre and Margaret had often invited Helena and me to visit during the months when my parents preferred to travel alone, and so they took advantage of the opportunity. Also, my uncle was well off financially and had been known to loan my father money without ever asking to be paid back.
None of this mattered to me. I’d loved spending time in the summers with them, sailing with Uncle Andre, running on the beaches, mending fishing nets, and looking for starfish. Helena spent much of her time in the kitchen with Aunt Margaret, enjoying the close companionship of a mother figure. The Calais family dynamics could not have been more different from our own.
As Kai and I and our guards rode up to their home, near dusk, a familiar sense of peace washed over me. The family lived in a large, six-bedroom stone cottage on the beach. It was whitewashed with weatherworn shutters, but to me, as a child, it had been the most welcoming place in the world.
Waves broke against the shore, and six long docks stretched out into the water. My uncle and aunt owned a small fleet of fishing vessels. Uncle Andre rented out most of the boats to other fishermen, but his favorite was a two-masted vessel called the Iris, and he was her captain.
Beside me, Kai looked all around, at the docks and back to the large cottage, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
The front door burst open, and a middle-aged woman came hurrying toward us. She was thin and small-boned, with a long braid of dark hair hanging down her back.
“Megan!”
I nearly jumped off my horse. “Aunt Margaret.”
She clasped me in her arms. “I’m so sorry about Helena’s death. We’ve only just learned of it and of your marriage. Your mother was remiss in writing to us. But we were glad to get your new father’s message and hear that you were coming.”
Looking up expectantly at Kai, she said, “You are most welcome here.”
He nodded stiffly.
She didn’t appear to notice his cold reply. “Come inside both of you. Our men will see to your guards and your horses.”
Just then, a man came out of the house. “Megan, my girl.”
I couldn’t help it. I ran to him, and he lifted me off the ground.
Uncle Andre had always struck me as larger-than-life. He had broad shoulders, weathered skin, and thick silver hair. He possessed a kind soul, but when he gave an order, people listened.
Kai was off his horse now, and he came toward us on his step-drag-step-drag-step stride. His expression was challenging, as if daring Uncle Andre to mention it.
Instead, Andre assessed him from his feet to his head.
“So, this is your young man,” he said. “I hope he’s good to you.”
“He is,” I assured. “Always.”
Kai made no response, and Aunt Margaret ushered us inside the house. Within moments, we were surrounded. Andre and Margaret had three children who I’d always called my cousins. All three were grown now, with children of their own, and two of these cousins lived farther down the coast. However, my cousin, Emily, and her husband, Kieran, and their two children all lived with my aunt and uncle.
“Emily!” I cried, embracing her.
Everyone seemed to be babbling at once—all except for Kai. I knew he was probably overwhelmed in the moment but would grow accustomed to the bustle and noise.
“I’ve steamed a pile of crabs for our supper,” Aunt Margaret said, “and made buttermilk biscuits. Megan, would you like a cup of wine? Kai, do you prefer tea or ale?”
My husband stood watching all of this without comment. By way of answer, he asked, “Is my room ready?”
Margaret blinked. “Yes . . . come this way. We only have one guest room at present, but it’s on the ground floor, so you shouldn’t have trouble.”
I wondered how much Jarrod had told them in his letter. She seemed comfortable speaking to Kai about his limitations.
“Can you just direct me?” he asked.
“Of course, down this passage, second door on the right.”
“Thank you. I won’t take any dinner. Good night.”
With that, he left the room, with me staring after him. I knew he was angry, but I’d expected him to at least eat dinner.
My uncle patted me on the shoulder. “Not to worry. He’s proud. That’s a good thing. I’ll have him up early tomorrow, and we’ll see how he does.”
I had no idea what this last part meant, but I was ready to accept Andre’s help. So far, I hadn’t done well helping Kai on my own.
* * * *
After a quick supper, I went to join Kai in our room.
Whether he liked it or not, we’d have to share a room—and a bed—here. Upon slipping inside the door, I found him already in bed with his face to the wall. As I’d brought only dresses that laced up the front, I struggled out of my traveling gown and laid it over a chair. Instead of seeking a nightgown, I decided to sleep in my shift.
Then I crawled in beside him.
When I touched his back, he didn’t respond.
“I’m sorry you’re unhappy,” I whispered.
I didn’t expect him to answer, but he said, “I’ve been sent from my home, by my father, at your bidding. What did you expect?”
Sighing softly, I had no answer.
* * * *
The next morning, a loud knocking sounded on our door.
Without invitation, the door opened.
“Breakfast!” Uncle Andre called in. “We need to be on the Iris by dawn.”
Kai sat up. “What?”
“Get dressed or we’ll be late,” Andre ordered him.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you are. No one lives here for free. We all work. Megan will help tend the nets, and you’ll help haul in the catch. Now, on your feet.”
“No.”
Andre didn’t move. “You’ll be on that boat with the rest of us, or I’ll throw you out, write to your father, and tell him you were too lazy to pull your own weight.”
He closed the door.
Kai was breathing hard. I hurried out of bed and grabbed a gown from a travel chest—my old blue wool. Within moments, I was dressed and out the door, leaving Kai to think a moment on his own.
As I hurried to the kitchen, I called, “Emily, can you braid my hair while I eat?”
Not long after, I heard a drag-step-drag-step coming toward us, and Kai entered the kitchen wearing his canvas pants and wool shirt.
“Good morning,” my aunt said brightly, handing him a plate of scrambled eggs and toasted bread. “Eat up.”
As Kai had had almost nothing the day before, I knew him well enough to know he’d be starving—and he liked scrambled eggs and toasted bread. I got him a mug of tea.
He ate.
After that, Uncle Andre, Kieran, Emily, Kai, and I headed down for the docks. Aunt Margaret stayed home with the children.
A saltwater breeze blew off the ocean, and I took in the air with pleasure. As we reached the Iris, I scrambled up the short plank from the dock leading to the deck. Kai came more slowly behind me, but he had no trouble.
“You ever been on a ship, lad?” Uncle Andre asked him.
“No,” Kai answered. “I’ve only been to the coast when we visited Partheney so I could enter in the tournaments.”
“You’ve fought in the Partheney tournaments?”
Kai nodded.
I found this line of conversation sad, but it was the most Kai had said in days, so I didn’t discourage it.
Two sailors had been prepping the Iris, and we were ready to sail. Uncle Andre called it a boat, but it was really more of a small ship. As the vessel drifted from the dock, I wondered if Kai would become seasick. I was never troubled, and I liked being out on the water.
Emily’s husband, Kieran, motioned to Kai. “Up here.”
I’d only met him a few times. He was a slender, quiet man, but I knew enough to know that he made Emily happy. Kai joined him at the bow as the Iris picked up speed, and in spite of everything, I could see Kai’s interest, his fascination with the sight of the prow cutting through the rushing waves.
Then Uncle Andre called to them, “You two, come grab this net.”
A long, thick net had been laid out on the starboard side. Sections of it were attached to the rail.
Another pile of nets waited near the aftcastle, where one of the sailors was steering. Emily and I would spend our day going through those, checking for any breaks and mending them for when they would be needed.
Looking somewhat puzzled but not reticent, Kai came back to join Andre.
“What do I do?”
“This is a drift net. Grab that end. We’re going heave it over, let it run along the side of the ship for a while and then haul it back in.”
Kai was openly interested now, and the sight made my heart race. Turning away, I focused on my own task.
The day began to slip past.
When Kai, Kieran, and Andre hauled in the net, the deck came alive with wriggling fish, and the men set to sorting them, throwing back what couldn’t be sold or used. From the corner of my eye, I watched. Kai caught on quickly.
“Good,” Uncle Andre said, nodding.
For lunch, Emily broke out a large basket Margaret had sent. We ate sliced apples and some delicious fried cakes made from cornmeal and cheese. Kai ate four of them, all the while asking Kieran and my uncle questions about the fishing process.
No one noticed his limp, and so neither did he.
Hope rose inside me.
In the afternoon, we headed back toward shore and made dock. Uncle Andre held back a large halibut, but turned the rest of our haul over to his sailors to sell to the fishmongers in Avingion.
As we started up the beach, Uncle Andre turned to Kai. “Try sinking your whole weight onto that leg in the sand. I had a first mate who’d taken a cut like yours, and he used the sand to heal himself.”
I felt myself tense. This was the first time anyone had mentioned Kai’s injury quite that bluntly. But Andre sounded a good deal like Captain Marcel, and Kai was not offended.
“How?” he asked. “Like this?”
Stepping forward, he placed his right foot firmly into the sand, shifting his weight as his foot sank slightly.
“Yes, good,” Andre said. “Now, try to step as normally as you can with the left.”
Kai tried to take a step. It was awkward, but the softness of the sand helped to ground his right leg, and I could see that the movement didn’t pain him much.
“Keep that up,” Andre said. “The leg will strengthen.”
We arrived at the cottage, and the children ran out to greet us. Aunt Margaret came on their heels, taking the halibut from her husband. She kissed him. “How did things go?”
“Well,” Andre answered. “Young Kai is a born fisherman.”
For dinner, Margaret rolled pieces of the halibut in an egg batter and fried them in a cast iron pan. We had raspberries from the garden and roasted potatoes as well. Kai ate like man who’d put in a hard day’s work, and he no longer seemed to mind the constant chatter all around him.
Later, once the dishes were done, we gathered in a sitting room for what the family called “story hour,” where they took turns entertaining each other by telling stories. Aunt Margaret was the best at this, and she told a tale of a handsome lieutenant besotted with a haughty girl who spurned him. He befriended her handmaiden, with the hopes of learning secrets to win the haughty girl’s heart . . . and ended up falling in love with the handmaiden.
As Margaret told this story, Kai leaned forward in his chair, and I remembered how much he’d liked hearing my story of the wolf hunters in the tapestries.
As Margaret finished, Kai looked about the room in a kind of wonder, and I realized he’d never known any
thing like this. His mother died the night he was born, and he’d grown up with a cold father and two brothers at each other’s throats. He’d never known a loving family who enjoyed eating together and gathering like this in a parlor.
Not long after dark, Andre pronounced it to be bedtime.
I headed off to the guest room I shared with Kai, and a few moments later, he came inside and closed the door.
Had we only arrived last night?
Perhaps pressing my luck, I said, “I suggested bringing you here because I thought it would help. I never meant for you to feel as if you were being sent away.”
“I know that.”
Did he? If he’d known, why had he blamed me?
Unlacing my dress, I slipped out of it and stood there in my shift. He turned away, went to the bed, sat, and pulled off his boots. Lying down fully clothed, he started to roll over with his face to the wall again.
Going to him, I took his arm and tried to gently pull him toward me.
“Kai,” I whispered, leaning in and touching my mouth to his.
Grabbing my shoulders, he held me away. “No,” he said. “I won’t have your pity.”
“Pity?”
“You don’t want me. How could you? You saved my life, so now you’re saddled with me, but I won’t ever ask anything more.”
My long weeks of patience came to an end.
“Do you plan to make us spend the rest of our lives like this?” My voice was loud enough to be heard outside the room, and I didn’t care. “To go on punishing both of us? You think I don’t want you? I ache for you! I can barely stand to be in the room without touching you.”
I took hold of his face, and he didn’t push me away. His eyes were searching mine, and I leaned down, kissing him again. “I ache for you,” I whispered.
To my wild relief, his hand was on the back of my head, and I felt the once-familiar pressure of his mouth on mine, almost hard enough to hurt but not quite.
He pushed me down beneath himself, and I reveled in the welcome feel of his weight and the careful strength in his hands.
“Kai.”