The Knight's Scarred Maiden

by Nicole Locke

‘Cinnamon? Clove?’ His eyes were lit like she amused him. But he scooped up a fillet of fish, sliced cheese, forked goat that fell apart and beef so thinly sliced she swore she could see through it and laid it all down on her trencher.

  She didn’t care if she amused him. She took another sip, greedy for more. ‘This is the best soup I’ve ever tasted.’

  ‘Aren’t you curious about the rest?’

  Without thinking of manners or in what order to eat, she bit into the fish and closed her eyes to fully relish the sharp bite of herbs against the soft textures.

  ‘Good as well?’ he asked, his voice holding a husky tone.

  She nodded. ‘I never had enough sorrel to make my sauces taste like this. They must have gardens here.’

  ‘All castles do; we had them at Gwalchdu.’

  ‘Gwalchdu?’

  ‘Roughly translated as Black Hawk.’

  ‘That was your home in Wales?

  He gave a dismissive nod and suddenly turned more fully to her. His actions were attentive, but his expression too quickly shuttered. When she looked over his shoulder, she noticed the serving women staring avidly at him.

  How long had they been standing there, and why had Rhain adjusted in his seat until he could no longer see the women?

  She recognized his actions immediately because she had done it many times herself.

  ‘Can you tell me about the gardens in your home?’ she said.

  The relief in his eyes confirmed that he wanted to ignore the staring women, though she was curious why he did so. In truth, she was curious about the gardens as well. She dreamed of having proper ones, but lacked knowledge of what they contained.

  ‘When I was a child, I spent—’ He stopped, shook his head.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I have not thought of the gardens in a long time.’

  And by doing so, he became reflective. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.’

  ‘No, it’s not that. They were happy times.’

  She felt as if they were talking about more than mere gardens. With the inn, she’d ask questions and people would stumble over their words to tell her their tales, but Rhain never did. With him, she realized with a pang, she wanted to know.

  Life had taught her never to be greedy; she didn’t deserve to have everything she wanted. So she took a drink and thought how to change the subject.

  ‘When I wasn’t home,’ he began like there wasn’t a pause, ‘it was the scent of lavender that drew me to the gardens in the spring. Rosemary in the summer. Or better, like this time of the year now, when both bloom. As I grew older, I don’t know if I sought out the gardens because I was constantly hungry or if it reminded me of my mother.’

  ‘Your mother...the healer,’ she said.

  His eyes darted over her shoulder. ‘I told you of her, didn’t I? She was always in the gardens. She carefully tended the seedlings when they were growing. I often teased her that she gave more care to the herbs than the people, but once plucked, she was ruthless with them. As a consequence, I was grateful her attention was on the plants rather than me.’

  ‘Did you get away with much?’

  ‘Only when she was busy crushing herbs.’

  ‘She must have been very good.’ Helissent tore some bread.

  He raised a brow. ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘You have much pride in your voice.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘I do...don’t I?’ He plucked the goblet off the table and took a drink. ‘There’s a market tomorrow, you should have Nicholas take you.’

  When Rhain engaged Nicholas in conversation, Helissent knew she had been dismissed. Rhain was all light and shadow, but this time, he was nothing but darkness.

  Chapter Ten

  The noise woke her in the morning. At first, it was faint and jostled against her sleep. Soon she was aware of the noise’s origins and actively listened to the cacophony: bleating animals, greeting calls and shouts from one vendor to another, hammering against wood and metal. She went to her window certain the market was just underneath, but the stalls were outside the castle walls.

  The market that Rhain mentioned last night at supper. Rhain, who’d avoided her after he turned to Nicholas. She was shown her room, given water to clean up, freshly laundered clothes and her ointment that she slathered on her sore leg and torso. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim her.

  When there was a knock at the door, she opened it and knew from her brief disappointment she had foolishly expected Rhain, but she schooled her features when she greeted Nicholas.

  It didn’t seem to make a difference because Nicholas replied, ‘He’s already at the market.’

  She didn’t know where her disappointment came from. Rhain ignored her on the journey from the village. Last night, though he gave her some attention, he quickly dismissed her and said Nicholas should show her the markets. Clearly he was back to shadows and his kindness wasn’t to continue.

  She was used to being dismissed and ignored, so it shouldn’t sting. She was used to standing on her own two feet and would have to do so in York. But she wanted more for herself than to merely stand on her own. She wanted to truly excel and she wouldn’t get that by observing food served, she needed to go to the source.

  When Nicholas asked whether she wanted to go, she requested only that they see the kitchens first.

  Nicholas didn’t question it, but she did. Yes, she needed more skills if she was to find work in competitive York. But another thought lingered as well—if Rhain was at the market, she wanted to be somewhere else.

  * * *

  Rhain shook the man’s hand and waited for the next contender. He woke this morning only thinking to partake of the market, but was too restless for strolling through crowds. It didn’t take much to gather some of his men and a crowd to train instead.

  He wished Mathys was here. He was almost as large as Nicholas and would recognize that Rhain simply wanted to thrash someone until he was worn out.

  But Mathys and a few others were gone per his orders. They left Tickhill last night to ride north. To see if the roads were clear between here and York. Rhain accepted that he was a dead man, but he wouldn’t risk his men and the trip north would be precarious.

  Still he was fortunate since there were trained soldiers here to add to his sport. There was only one unspoken caveat with his men. They could never show their true weaknesses or strengths to others.

  He knew he was about to break that pact when he spotted Carlos walking towards his ring. Then he realized he was fortunate that Nicholas was out with Helissent because his friend would never approve of what he was about to do.

  Of course, Rhain suspected his temper was short, his need for blood even more pronounced, precisely because Nicholas was out with Helissent this morning.

  What had happened between them approaching the gates and dining last night? Too much. He needed to make Tickhill attractive to Helissent; he didn’t need to engage her further. Yet he couldn’t stop his curiosity. To see her in raptures over simple food...to take those greedy spoonsful of soup. Or that first delicate sip of wine. He wasn’t even supposed to be looking, but he saw how she rolled the warming liquid over her tongue and he’d almost groaned with unspoken need.

  Once he heard her laughter, he was lost. Her laughter, which was nothing like her singing. If there was any more musical sound in the world, he’d never heard it.

  She’d covered her mouth and it broke something inside him to see her do it. He wished he had the right to take her hand and lower it. To see the joy flow from her, as he kept holding her hand.

  To see how the joy would change to desire as he raised her hand to press a kiss upon her inner wrist. To whisper and show her how skin could be delicious. How he knew she would be delicious.

  He’d ne
ver been this close to a knife’s edge with a woman before. Never wanted the way he wanted her.

  Carlos entered the ring and Rhain tossed his sword from one hand to the other. When he struck Carlos exactly at his weak point, Carlos’s eyes gleamed. Challenge accepted, Rhain felt satisfaction for the first time in days.

  * * *

  Her mind buzzing with all that the kitchens had offered and with the orderliness and efficiency of each room, the market’s chaos was an affront on Helissent’s senses.

  Luckily, she could take it all in since Nicholas was more taciturn than Rhain. At first he attempted to be polite and asked her questions on her castle experience, but all attempts at conversation died.

  Her heart wasn’t in it. She liked Tickhill well enough, but she was overwhelmed by the market stalls and they dodged the many people vying for their attention to sell their wares.

  Her village had been too small for a market. The villagers had to travel to sell their foodstuffs. Upon their return, Helissent was always happy to hear the news as she helped the innkeepers feed everyone.

  From their descriptions, she thought she had a grasp of the industry, but experiencing an actual market was something else. The smells of fresh fish, of bleeding-out pig, of hot metal. The last day had been dry and dust and flies billowed and swarmed.

  Nicholas dragged her away from the food stalls and down the lanes showing gentler wares. None of which grabbed her attention like the confections and twisted bread she saw, but it was here she spotted Rhain at the end of the lane. He wore a fine linen tunic and leather breeches. His hair looked dark, wet. His back was to them as he held a small needlework in one hand and a silver necklace in the other.

  Delicate, beautiful. They were hardly items for a mercenary, or even a knight. They were a woman’s things.

  Pretending to look at pottery, she watched as the vendor took the items from Rhain and slowly inspected each item.

  ‘Do you want that piece?’ Nicholas said.

  Helissent almost dropped the vase in her hand. She’d been pretending to inspect it and could see that both Nicholas and the vendor expected her to purchase it.

  ‘No, I’m sorry.’ She turned and smiled at the vendor, who winced before taking his ware from her hands.

  When she looked back up, Rhain was standing at the next market stall.

  ‘Do you want to return to the food stalls?’ Nicholas said, his voice wavering as he swallowed.

  She shook her head, though she wanted to tease him. Nicholas hadn’t liked the food section of the market at all. Instead for now, she wanted to stay and watch what Rhain was doing. He wasn’t purchasing, for it was him showing the needlework and necklace to the next vendor, while the first vendor was waving his hands and talking.

  ‘You should leave him be,’ Nicholas said evenly. He looked kindly, but also determined.

  ‘How long have you been friends with him?’

  ‘We fostered together at King Edward’s court. I’d lay down my life for him and have on several occasions...like now.’

  Helissent’s neck hurt from craning to look at Nicholas, but she could read nothing from his expression. She thought she heard the emotion in his voice, though, and something within her lightened.

  ‘I’m glad he has a friend like you,’ she said. ‘He has too many shadows.’

  Nicholas’s expression at once turned to regret.

  When she realized how personal her words sounded, she tried to correct her mistake. ‘I only meant—’

  There was no fixing her words that wouldn’t make it worse. Thus, she turned her back on Rhain and his business, as well as Nicholas’s too-watchful eyes and secret agenda and quickly walked towards the food stalls, which she easily found.

  The market was large, but now that she’d walked the entirety of it, she knew it wasn’t large enough. Especially when Nicholas quickly caught up with her. ‘Please let me talk.’

  Reluctantly, she slowed her pace, but didn’t glance his way.

  ‘All women like him. At least with you, your admiration has merit past his pretty face. You’re the only one he’s ever saved and granted privileges no woman has had in the many years I’ve travelled with him.’

  For some reason the thought warmed her even if it was futile. Rhain could never return any feelings for her...even if she had any towards him. Which she didn’t. Couldn’t.

  ‘Be assured he’s safe from the likes of me.’ She waved to her face. ‘I can’t even smile without making a toothless vendor wince.’

  Nicholas raised one brow. ‘You think no man would find you attractive?’

  The words were too close to what Rhain had said to her last night before he’d dismissed her and shown how false his kind words were. She stopped walking and didn’t care about her neck pain as she glared at him. ‘Did you talk to him last night?’

  When Nicholas actually flushed, which made him look very unmercenary-like, her embarrassment turned to anger.

  Nicholas, with his deep scar across his face and lost eye, with a mountain for a body instead of a normal man’s, was mocking her.

  ‘I know what kind of men find me attractive, as do you. You met them, remember?’

  Nicholas’s eye darkened. ‘I should have killed them. Especially if it’s left you continuing these foolish thoughts. You are no young maid; you have to know Rhain wants you.’

  Oh. She couldn’t look at him then, but not because she believed him. Because there could be no truth to it, even if, for the first time, she hoped there was. ‘Maybe he’s the foolish one, then.’

  ‘I think Rhain’s sane for the first time in his life, but now I have to wonder how sane you are.’

  Not very if she was even considering Nicholas’s words as true. ‘It’s not true, and even if so, it’ll pass.’

  ‘Definitely should have killed them,’ he muttered.

  But because Nicholas’s words had been a bit kinder, she said, ‘I wouldn’t want you to scald your soul.’

  ‘Scald?’

  She lifted a shoulder. ‘As when milk burns to the bottom of the cauldron. It ruins the pan and the food.’

  ‘Ah, cooking terms I know nothing about, but men like that I do. It’s better that they were dead than them praying on those less fortunate.’

  She hadn’t thought of that. ‘Will those men try again?’

  ‘No—’ he smiled cruelly ‘—and they’re no longer men.’

  That must mean... She didn’t want to think what that meant, but she did want to know about the other things he said. ‘Why was it a privilege for me to travel with you? I know about travelers and the women who go with them, but aren’t there exceptions?’

  Nicholas resumed walking. ‘Are you asking why there aren’t other women? Are you setting your sights on someone else though I told you Rhain wants you?’

  ‘As though I’m the finest of pastries?’

  ‘More baking terms?’ He paused to think. ‘No, you’re more like a pastry displayed in some shop that Rhain can never afford.’

  He made her sound like something rare, when she was far more common than that. Rhain had said similar words, and she no more believed Nicholas now, than she did Rhain.

  Even if she did, she had no experience with it. She had never been spoken to this way before. Teased and flirted with as if she could ever have suitors. She didn’t know how to respond. ‘What of...what of the other men?’

  ‘We’re all stray dogs. I haven’t been home since—’ Nicholas’s eye darted to the side and he cleared his throat. ‘The other men we’ve met along the way of our journeys in Spain and down south. Subsequently, they haven’t been with us that long, but we stop often enough; thus, there’s been no discord about women travelling with us.’

  And there was his protective tone again. ‘You think I’ll conflict with other fla
vors?’

  He raised a brow, all serious now. Or puzzling her terms, but she didn’t know how else to phrase it. The subject was too painful and filling her with a longing she didn’t know she even had.

  When he shook his head and shrugged one shoulder, she said, ‘I’ll cause discord by travelling with you?’

  A knowing look in his eye like he was pleased with the direction of the conversation. ‘You already do.’

  She wasn’t pleased; her heart sunk. She hadn’t meant to cause discord, hadn’t even realized she had. The men were quiet and she’d seen no arguments, but what did she know of mercenaries?

  ‘I’d like to apologize to the men for making Rhain take me.’

  Nicholas almost smiled then. ‘I’d talk to Carlos; if anything, he’d understand.’

  * * *

  Nothing. Yet again. Rhain fought his bitter frustration as he wound his way through the market stalls to return to the keep.

  Tickhill wasn’t large, but some of the stalls were decent enough to show the needlework and necklace. To ask a few pertinent questions.

  The answers were the same. Polite remarks on the needlework’s workmanship; gasps of greed and sometimes envy as they regarded the necklace’s beauty. But never any indication of who might have made or sold the necklace in the past. Never any recollections of the pendant’s whereabouts.

  This time, he felt the loss and knew it came because Reynold was coming for him. Tomorrow or the next day, they’d leave for York and he wondered if he had enough time for the markets there. York was very large. There was still a chance to find the answers on who his father was, on why he’d abandoned his mother.

  He felt loss, but he was beginning to wonder if he felt another loss now. One that didn’t make any sense since it was fragile...only a beginning. How could someone lose a beginning? Yet, that was the other emotion he fought. How he was soon to lose Helissent.

  She didn’t know his past, or the ugliness that flowed through his veins. He’d shared with her stories of his mother, his true mother. He’d never done that. Not once. If his mother came to conversation, he’d talk of Lady Gwalchdu, who died during his childbirth. Lady Gwalchdu, whom he thought was his mother until five years ago.