He suddenly pulled his head out with a triumphant, “Ah-ha!” and then reached in to draw out a quiver of arrows.
Layna was stunned. The barrel was not nearly big enough to have held the quiver. She couldn't help but stare in amazement as the woodsman continued to pull other items out as well, mumbling to himself, “So that's where that was...”
The woodsman turned back to them and looked at Layna, “What's the matter, girl, never seen a magic barrel before? Better quit your gawkin’ and close that before a bug flies in. Not that there are any bugs in this gods-forsaken frozen wasteland.” He glared around at nothing in particular.
Layna clamped her mouth shut and flushed with embarrassment as he continued to mumble. She wasn't sure of half the things he was grumbling, but she got the idea that it wasn't all complimentary. Gryffon gave her a shrug, and took the quiver of arrows being held impatiently towards him.
“You know,” warned the woodsman, wiggling a finger at them, “it ain’t just the nicies in the forest anymore. Usta be I'd run into a nymph or two in them there woods, but nowadays, I'm just as likely to be attacked by a dire boar or worse. Why, just the other day I was out in farm country in, oh, what was the name of that place again?” He put a hand to his chin, scratching the tip of it and narrowing his eyes in concentration. “By the gods, I can't for the life of me recall it!” He looked disgruntled for a moment but soon continued. “Well, anywho, this baron fellow came in all high and mighty around from the city amoanin’ and groanin’ that he'd been attacked by a monster on his way over. At first I thinks to myself, 'these city folk don't know nothin' about the country, he was prolly surprised by a coyote and let his imagination get the better of ‘im but then he pulls open his fine robes and sure enough there's three gashes down the middle of him just like some creature made a swipe at him leaving huge cuts where the unnatural claws gouged out his flesh, farther apart than any normal creature's would be and going from here,” he pointed to the nape of his neck, “to here.” He drew a line down his chest and belly all the way to his groin making a slicing noise as he did so. “What I want to know is how he survived. He claims it was due to a healin’ charm, but it musta been one powerful charm to keep him alive 'cause by gods, that wound was fierce.” He whistled. “And so was his temper. Those high-born, no tolerance for pain...” He trailed off for a moment. “That was way up north, though,” he said thoughtfully, “them parts are full of special things. I don't know no one who's come back from across the Ferryn Plains.”
He got lost in his own thoughts then before suddenly making a little jump to face Gryffon once more. “So, what do ya think of my arrows?” Gryffon opened his mouth to answer just as a small gray cat bounded up onto the counter in front of the stall. At its appearance, the woodsman cut him off before waiting for an answer. “Ah, hello there kitty. What are you up to?” The cat settled herself down, wrapped her bushy tail around her, and proceeded to lick her front paw. The woodsman pet her, and the cat languished in the attention he gave her, standing and pressing her body against the length of his stroke, flipping her tail out as he reached the end.
Gryffon cleared his throat, “So, how much for the arrows?” The two men concluded their business and they left the woodsman to dote on the feline.
As soon as they were out of earshot Layna turned to Gryffon, “You weren't kidding.”
“No, no I wasn't. One of the smartest men I’ve ever met, but he certainly has a strange way about him.” They both broke into a fit of laughter.
*
The laughing couple remained unaware of the pair of eyes upon them, even as those eyes narrowed to slits at their shared amusement. “Devon,” Jezebel said slowly in a dangerous voice, “the rest of your people can handle the task of looking for spies. I have a special job for you.”
Devon followed her gaze and gave a nod of understanding as he recognized the servant girl laughing with Gryffon. “And what kind of job would you like it to be?” he asked.
“Simply watch for now,” she answered languidly. “I want to see what they're up to. Then, perhaps, we'll have to make it something more interesting.”
Devon gave another curt nod and left to set their plans into motion. Jezebel stood watching a few moments more before turning on her heel, her cloak spinning out behind her as she stormed off into the shadows of the alleyway.
Jezebel had worked herself into a tantrum by the time she reached home and immediately rang for a servant to bring her a cool towel for her head. How dare he embarrass me like this? She paced back and forth in the library. And with that low-life peasant nothing who obviously doesn't know her proper place in life. She stomped her way to a chair and sat heavily down into it. He should be grateful that I reduced myself to his level to lavish my attentions on him. And how does he repay me? By running around with that, that lowborn hussy! I can't let anyone find out.
At that moment, a homely servant girl practically tripping over herself hurried in. She curtsied a greeting and hastily brought the towel forward. She turned to leave, but stopped mid-step, with wide eyes like a trapped animal, when her mistress spoke.
“Can you believe that he would do that?” Jezebel asked the girl, feeding off of the fear she could practically taste emanating from the maid.
“N-n-no, my lady?” the girl stuttered with a bewildered expression, slowly taking a step back into the room with obvious trepidation.
“Can you believe,” Jezebel went on “that Lord Gryffon would have the gall to steal from me?”
The girl gave her an astonished look, and shook her head, but could not get a sound to escape from her lips. Her silence didn't matter; Jezebel ignored her and continued on blithely. “I have him here out of the goodness of my heart. Charitably taking him in when everyone else had deserted him. I even tried to make it look better for him by allowing him the pretense of courting me while he was here, even though I would never really be interested in a lower noble.” She sighed, feeling a little better now that she was able to talk about it, formulating the lie as she spoke. “And what does he do? He has the nerve to take a cherished family heirloom from me. It must have been him because I know none of you,” she waved a hand at the girl indicating that she meant the servants, “would do such a dishonest thing.” Jezebel now turned to the girl and stretched out a hand which the girl took timidly. “Come, sit,” Jezebel commanded, trying to soothe the silly little thing now. “What's your name?”
The girl sat gingerly on the chair, as though afraid her very touch could soil it. And it very well might. Who knows how often these people bathe, Jezebel fleetingly thought to herself, making a mental note to have it cleaned. “Katrina, my lady,” the girl answered in a soft voice, barely above a whisper.
“There now, Katrina, I couldn't very well let him blame it on one of you innocent people, now could I?” The girl shook her head and Jezebel smiled. “That's right, dear. You may go now.”
The girl rose at once and made her way to the door, catching herself at the room's threshold, where she turned to give Jezebel a quick curtsy on her way out. Jezebel frowned at the door as it shut behind her. She’d tried to treat the thing nicely, and the brainless little ninny hadn't been able to keep her wits about her. Next time she'd know better than to bother treating the help as people. At least this one was quite mundane looking. That was some consolation. Unlike that whore that Gryffon is paying attention to. I should have thrown her out the first time I laid eyes on her. I knew she'd be trouble. She sat glaring into space. Perhaps I'll have to arrange a little trouble for her...Yes, that would suit me very nicely.
CHAPTER 9
Layna was kept very busy the next few days as Jezebel had received an invitation to attend the coronation ceremony for the newly appointed King Nathair. She had ordered that all new dresses be made for her stay at the palace. Of course, each had to be made in several different colors so that no matter what color the other courtiers would be wearing, Jezebel would be ready with an appropriate outfit. Therefore, in addition to
the normal upkeep of the manor, Layna and the other servants were frantically running around in a desperate attempt to keep up with their mistress's ever-increasing demands. Every time they felt like they had caught up, Jezebel would think of something else that needed to be prepared, only to change her mind once it was done.
Gryffon had been more subdued since their conversation, and other than a few stolen moments to exchange pleasantries, she had been mostly unable to see him. Though she knew that it was for the best, Layna missed him and couldn’t deny that she had been disappointed when she had learned that he would be attending the coronation with Jezebel.
After what seemed like an eternity of running around to keep up with all of her demands, Jezebel and her party were finally off. As the carriages pulled away, Layna let out a sigh of relief and looked forward to a quiet manor. She sent a silent 'good luck' to the unlucky entourage that had been chosen to accompany them, and headed back inside.
That night, the servants gathered for their own celebration, and to gossip about the new King. Aaron attended with Katrina and seemed quite happy to dote on her, which amused Layna to no end. When Aaron wasn’t looking, she gave Katrina a smile and a wink, and the girl beamed back at her. Both greeted Layna warmly as she made her way over to them and Katrina handed her a mug of cider wine, which she took gratefully.
“Good thing I like tea enough to make up herbs I need for one on the spot,” she whispered to Layna, poking her in the ribs good-naturedly. While Katrina had found the time to run squealing into Layna’s room to tell her the news that she had finally spoken with Aaron amidst all of the rushing around for Jezebel, apparently the conversation about why he had asked her what herbs she would need had only recently come up.
“You’re welcome.” Layna smiled and stuck out her tongue at her. Obviously the conversation had ended well.
They all huddled around the fireplace in the kitchen where the cook was making sweet pies for them. Layna listened idly to the conversations around her, chewing slowly on her pie, and savoring the flavor.
She caught Gryffon's name from the corner where Katrina and Aaron had migrated to sit with their heads together, and she directed a question to them. “What happened with Gryffon?”
Katrina looked startled as she looked up at Layna. “Wow, good ears. I was saying that for some reason today Jezebel felt the need to tell me that she thought that Gryffon had stolen something from her. She claimed to have such amazing faith in us that she just knew it couldn't possibly be a servant who had taken it.”
Aaron snorted. “The day she gives any of us a sliver of respect when it doesn't satisfy some ulterior motive of hers is the day I'll eat my own boot.”
Layna nodded in agreement, but Katrina suddenly looked worried. “You don't think she was trying to get me to confess to having taken it, do you?”
Layna shook her head. “She's probably just complaining about Gryffon when he didn't do anything. It seems to be a favorite pastime for her.”
Aaron interposed, “Maybe he really did take it.”
Layna shot back, slightly more nastily than she had meant, “Gryffon wouldn't do something like that; she's just a filthy liar.” Aaron looked taken-aback by her conviction and gave her a strange look.
“We all know that most of what comes out of the lady's mouth is a lie, I'm sure it's nothing,” soothed Katrina. Layna fell silent, listening to the rest of the stream of conversation and avoiding making eye contact with Aaron.
“I've heard that the new King Nathair is making all sorts of improvements to the system already, and he's not even coronated yet,” said one of the gardeners.
The cook interceded, “Not that any improvements that they make are likely to improve our lives any.” He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, “Although, if they caused Lady I'm-too-good-for-everything to dine somewhere else more frequently, my life at least would get that much better.”
They all laughed at this comment. This nickname for Jezebel was only safe to use when she and Devon were well away from the manor, but all the servants delighted in it. Luckily, such an important event at the palace was almost certain to keep them detained, so the servants could relax and vent their frustrations during that time.
Layna hadn't heard much about what King Nathair was doing except what she had happened to have picked up from conversations between Jezebel and her friends or her father. King Edward had died in a hunting accident, and it sickened Layna that Jezebel and her friends had seized upon the opportunity to gossip about it rather than mourn him. Since he did not have an heir, the throne was left empty upon his death, and the Council had been forced to choose the next-in-line. They had decided that King Nathair was a distant relative of the royal family and therefore considered him worthy enough of bearing the title.
Layna wasn't sure that she accepted the logic of naming someone King based on relations alone, but at least he supposedly was a good leader in his own right. Layna deduced from the snippets of conversation that the other servants were having that the King was busily proposing new laws. He was trying to give farmers tax-breaks; giving them the option of trading horses and oxen for back taxes. He wanted to fund some rather big projects like erecting buildings for improved food storage and wanted to re-open some of the ore mines which had been abandoned. Jezebel's father had made an off-hand comment about the improvements sounding an awful lot like war preparations. Layna felt a chill.
Jezebel's father was nothing like the woman. Jezebel was the epitome of evil as far as Layna was concerned, self-centered and completely dispassionate about anyone but herself. She was a very smart woman, but her arrogance was her greatest weakness. She seemed to be in her own fantasy world where she felt as though she could do anything she wanted, and no one could do anything about it because she was better than them all. This delusion seemed to make her less daunting as she tended to go about exacting her revenge in such a way that would only have worked if she really was the center of the universe as she had so convinced herself.
Jezebel's father, on the other hand, was a very smart man and unlike his daughter, his thoughts were also based in reality. His combination of intelligence and shrewdness made him even more dangerous to those who crossed him. But despite the unyielding force he was to most people, he fell for Jezebel's 'woe-is-me' attitude every time. He usually gave in and bought her whatever new item she simply had to have. Like the new carriage she so desperately needed because the old one was too squeaky - and besides, Daddy, the neighbors have one just like it. Or when she had needed new curtains for the library because the color didn't compliment her eyes.
Layna had noted that the conversations Jezebel had with her father tended to bring out a new Jezebel, a Jezebel whose world was entirely against her and only her father's money could fix it. Perhaps it was simply that love is blind. She was, after all, his daughter. Nevertheless, Layna was left dumbfounded by how glibly he bought her stories. Maybe he knew she was lying, but chose to ignore it, simply giving her what she wanted in hopes that maybe this time it would make her happy.
Layna wondered about their whole relationship. She had once overheard him shouting at Jezebel through the closed library door raving, “How could I have raised such a stupid daughter?!” Layna did not know what the rest of the conversation had been about as she had absented herself immediately, for fear of both their furious rages, but had almost felt bad for the woman in that instant. She couldn’t imagine her own parents ever saying anything so hurtful.
Layna hoped that in the King's new improvements, he took a good look at the officials in the city and had the heart to care why their robes were adorned with gold while innocent people were punished. Layna didn't have much hope that yet another noble in power would care for the plight of the common people, but it was a nice thought. People like Jezebel's father were allowed to flourish because the system was so corrupt. If you had enough money, you could just about guarantee any outcome you pleased. It was what made it so dangerous to work for some
one like Jezebel. She had the money through her father to get what she wanted, and the temper to ruin someone's life on a whim.
When Layna had first come to the city, she had imagined that it would be a more glamorous life than that on her family's farm. After all, Naoham was the capital of Gelendan, something interesting was bound to happen here. Her father had been very upset with her for even mentioning that she might leave and had not spoken a word to her for three whole days. He had eventually come around after much prodding from her ever-patient and coaxing mother, and grudgingly decided to let her go and try her hand at the big city life since it was what she really wanted to do. They were good, loving parents. Neither of them would ever have called her stupid as Jezebel's father had done - Layna had just found life with them smothering and simply had to get away.
She had packed up what few belongings she could call her own, and made her way to the big city. There, she had been directed by the guards at the gatehouse to a job agency where they matched people who were hiring with those looking for work. Layna had been completely out of her element and embarrassed when the clerk had asked her what she was applying for and she realized that she didn't have an answer. When the job appeared for the maid in Jezebel's household, she had jumped at the chance, despite her misgivings about her new mistress.
In spite of the downsides of working for Jezebel, Layna had managed to save some money and her dreams of becoming something on her own were still intact. She refused to go back home without making something of herself or she would never be able to live with her father's endless 'I told you so's'. Besides, if she went back he'd probably end up marrying her off to some boring old farmer and then she'd just be miserable for the rest of her life. Her parents were always so worried about her, and never wanted her to do anything where she might get hurt. But in her mind, that wasn’t living. At least here it was somewhat exciting. She was in the midst of things, and though she rarely heard the whole story, she got tantalizing little snatches of court intrigue that fascinated her.
Unleashed Fury (BloodRunes: Book 1) Page 9