An hour passed before the faint lights of Burchard Castle were seen by the travelers, and once the drawbridge had been lowered and the group was safely inside the stone walls of the fortress, Mertice called out for Hube and Stanmore to halt.
"You will be punished severely for going against my command and endangering my life," she hissed, blue eyes flashing her rage. "Take that woman to one of the huts and leave her there. Her health is no concern of ours. Then stable our horses and find a place other than my brother's castle to sleep. You both are not worthy of the honor. In the morning I shall speak to Gunther and see you are banished from my service and my brother's lands as well." Dismissing them with a toss of her head, she set her fiery gaze on Celeste. "And you will be reduced to working in the kitchen for your part in this. Norward, help me dismount!"
The one called Norward quickly edged his steed closer, jumped to the ground, and held out his hands to assist Mertice from the mare.
Readjusting her clothing in short, angry motions, she straightened her spine and looked Norward in the eye. "At least one of my knights remains true to me,""she said, her nose raised in the air. "Come, we shall sup with my brother." She swept past him and marched toward the huge oak door, pausing only long enough for Norward to rush up behind her and open it, then disappeared inside in a whirl of rich cloth.
Stanmore's green eyes darkened as he watched the oaken barrier close behind Mertice. "I fear I have angered God that he should curse me with that one," he snarled, then turned to look at Celeste. "Come. Since the three of us are no longer needed by Lady Mertice, we shall see to this young woman's care and warm ourselves by a fire while the high and mighty bitch stuffs herself with food and drink." Then in a lower voice, he added, "I pray she chokes on it." Dismounting, he I moved to help Celeste to the ground, then came to Hube and took the silent woman in his arms. "Celeste and I will take her to Ordella's hut," he told him as Hube, too, dismounted.
"The old woman?"
"Yea, she has potions and herbs that will help. Meet us there as soon as you've stabled the horses. And tell no one what we do. Lady Mertice has an evil way and may seek revenge when none is due."
Nodding, Hube gathered the reins of the steeds and hurried away.
* * *
Ordella's hut was set away from the rest and because of the late hour and the fact that nearly everyone would be in the great hall enjoying the celebration with their lord and lady, Stanmore felt secure in taking the young beauty there. No one came to Ordella unless he was sick and the old woman had never tried to hide her dislike for Gunther's sister. Ordella would keep the woman safe from any spiteful acts of Mertice's.
Only a moment passed after Celeste knocked on the door before it was opened. The orange light from the fireplace on the opposite wall cast the old woman in shadow, and Celeste trembled at the sight of her. Though no one else at Burchard had her skill for healing, many whispered that her powers did not come from God. Thus, the serfs feared her and kept their distance unless illness claimed them and they began to fear death more than the strange old woman. Stanmore, however, did not believe such nonsense.
"Old woman," he announced, "I am Stanmore, knight to Lady Mertice, and this is her maid, Celeste. We need thy help. We found this one wandering the road to Burchard. She is cold and in need of your medicines."
Ordella's alert brown eyes swept over the young girl cradled in the knight's arms, then glanced briefly at Celeste before she moved aside and allowed her visitors to step into the one-room hut.
"Lay her down on the pallet," she said in a solemn voice, pointing to the straw bed near the hearth. - Having done so, Stanmore moved out of the way to allow the old woman a chance to examine the young girl, but he did not move far. He could not explain why, but he felt a strange attachment to the coppery-haired beauty with the wild, frightened look in her eyes.
"Fetch a bowl of broth from the kettle over the fire,"
Ordella ordered Celeste, then stood. Crossing to an old, weathered trunk, she pulled out several blankets and returned to the bed, there to unfold them and cover the girl's trembling body, while Celeste hurried to the cupboard for a bowl and spoon.
"Add more logs to the fire," she said, glancing up at Stanmore.
He nodded and quickly set about fulfilling her request. Within minutes the small hut was warm enough to bring a sweat to everyone's brow, and while Stanmore and Celeste shed their fur mantles and anything else that would make them more comfortable in the heat of the small room, Ordella pulled up a chair beside the bed and began to rub her patient's hands vigorously. When the girl's teeth finally stopped chattering, she motioned for Celeste to hand her the bowl of broth while • she propped up the young woman's head. As she did, the hood of her mantle fell away and everyone in the room stared in awe at the thick mass of coppery hair that spilled from it. None had seen such beauty before, and their curiosity about her grew.
"Eat, child," Ordella coaxed soothingly as she lifted a spoonful of broth to the young woman's lips.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of the troubled girl's mind, she heard the voice of a woman, a stranger, telling her to eat, and she slowly opened her eyes. Shadowed figures loomed above her, silhouetted in the golden glow of firelight. None had faces and although they stood rock still, her fear that they would raise a sword to strike her dead brought a whimper to her lips. Bolting upright, she knocked away the hand that offered food and frantically crawled to the opposite end of the pallet. Huddling back against the wall, her mantle hugged tightly across her bosom, she stared in wide-eyed horror at the trio who mutely watched her. Who were these people? her befuddled mind implored. She quickly looked about the room. Where was she? Who had brought her here? She vaguely remembered being lifted in someone's arms. And she had been so cold. But the knight who had held her had tenderly cradled her in his warm embrace. Suddenly, the vision of a knight with bloodied sword flared up to strike terror in her heart and when the one closest to her slowly stood up, she screamed.
"Nay! Nay, do not kill me!" she cried, an arm raised in front of her to ward off the killing blow. But instead of sharp steel against her tender flesh, a warm hand caught her wrist and pulled her into a strong, yet tender, embrace.
"No one will harm thee, my child," the voice pledged. "We are your friends. We will protect yon."
"Nay!" she shouted, struggling to get free, but the arms tightened around her and held her close.
"My name is Ordella," the old woman said, then nodded toward the others in the room. "And he is Stanmore, and she is Celeste. They found you wandering the road to Burchard, alone and nearly frozen. They brought you to me so that I might care for you. I will not hurt you, my child. I only wish to ease your suffering, and lay to rest your torment. Tell me what it is that frightens you, so that I might send it on its way."
Some of the fear lessened in the amber-hued eyes staring back at Ordella, but the old woman knew the young girl was still far from convinced that those around her meant her no harm. But what worried Ordella more than that was the half-crazed look in the child's eyes. Whatever had happened to her had to have been of such magnitude that it had twisted this seemingly gentle soul into a fearful, harrowed shell of what she once must have been. Ordella had no potions or herbs or magic spells that could heal the sickness of one's mind. Only time and gentle urgings were the cure for that. She smiled warmly and tried again.
"What is thy name?"
A frown curled the other's brow and a look of dismay came over her face. "I. . . I.. ." Tears gathered, and the young woman's gaze darted from Ordella to Celeste to Stanmore and back to Ordella again. With a shake of coppery hair, the girl replied, "I can't remember."
For as long as Ordella could recall, she had been the healer at Burchard Castle, having taken over her mother's job after she had died. Ordella had only been fourteen at the time and because the needs of the people had been great, she had never had the opportunity to live the kind of life other young girls her age had. Thus, she had never fallen in love
, never married, and never had any children of her own. But that longing had never ebbed, and she had had to be content in caring for others' children. She had managed all these years to present a toughened mien so that no one would get too close and unknowingly remind her of what she had never had, or ever would have. She had managed—until now. Her heart ached suddenly for the hopelessness and fear this lost child was experiencing.
"Do not fret, little one," she murmured, missing the brief hint of recognition in the amber eyes. "It will come to you. For now, we shall call you Adar. It means fire." Tenderly, she touched a lock of the silkened tresses falling over the young woman's shoulder. Suddenly realizing she had let her emotions slip, Ordella straightened and let go of Adar to look at the other two who shared the room.
"I'll take care of Adar now," she said, clearing her throat. "You may go." She reached then for the bowl of broth she had set on the floor beside her and when she straightened again, she noticed the strange look on Celeste's face. "What is it?"
"We..." she began and sheepishly glanced down at the floor. "We have no place to go. Lady Mertice has dismissed us for our disobedience and said we were not welcome in her brother's castle."
"Tis the word of a babbling idiot," Ordella grunted. "Lord Gunther would never turn anyone out in the cold."
"Then he has returned?" Stanmore asked.
"Yea," Ordella told him, turning with bowl and spoon to Adar. "Several days past. I have not seen him, but the serfs have told me of his return." She smiled encouragingly at Adar. "Eat this, child. It will bring back your strength."
"Then I will speak to him on the morrow after the Mass," Stanmore said more to himself than the others in the room.
"About what, Sir Stanmore?" Celeste asked worriedly. "I do not wish to return to Lady Mertice's service."
"Nay." He smiled, touching her arm. "Never that. Before she announced her decision, I had decided to ask Sir Gunther if there was a place for me at his side. If you wish, I will tell him you desire to serve Lady Anne."
A bright, appreciative smile came over the young woman's face. "Yea, Sir Stanmore, I do wish it."
"And he will grant it," Ordella added, pleased that Adar was eating the broth she spooned out to her. "And until then, Celeste, you may stay here with me. My place is humble but warm, and I have food. Sir Stanmore," she continued without looking at either of them, "seek out David. His hut is larger, and he will give you shelter until the morrow if you wish it."
"Thank you, Ordella, I will," Stanmore replied, reaching for his mantle. "And is there more I can do for Adar?"
"Nay," she said. "I will feed her, then put her to bed. Her problems will take time to solve, and I have plenty. Now go and seek thy rest. You have done your share this night. God will smile kindly on you for it."
Draping his fur mantle over his shoulders and picking up his helm from where he had laid it, Stanmore turned to Celeste. "Keep thy faith, Celeste." He smiled. "What we have done this eve was meant to be. There was a reason. We may not know why now, but we shall, and methinks 'twas for the good."
An impish grin parted her lips. "If only to free us of Lady Mertice?" she asked.
Stanmore laughed heartily. "Yea, if only that," he agreed, then turned to look at the one with coppery hair who had watched and listened to them without a word. "I pledge thee my protection, Adar. No harm will come to thee from this day on as long as God grants me the strength to draw a single breath."
Round, amber eyes stared back at him, and though she did not speak, he saw a softening in the look she gave him, and he smiled in return. Presenting her with a slight bow, he turned and left the hut.
* * *
Mertice had not expected to find the great hall of Burchard castle nearly empty when she and Norward entered. It was the custom to celebrate on the eve of Christ's birth, and the moment she stepped into the hall and saw the serving maids clearing the tables and her brother and his wife nowhere in sight, she sensed a problem had arisen, or worse still, that perhaps the rumors she had heard about her brother's return here were false. Her blue eyes narrowed as she glared about the room looking for evidence that Gunther was somewhere in the castle and vowing that the one who had sent her flying home would feel her revenge if the tale he had spun about her brother and Sir Amery proved untrue.
"Twould seem, m'lady," Norward said, "that we have missed the celebration."
"Yea, the celebration, but what of my brother?" she hissed, flipping off her fox-lined mantle and tossing it at him before she started across the room toward the huge hearth. "Go to the kitchen and have food brought that we might fill our bellies while I warm myself by the fire."
"Yea, m'lady." Norward nodded, then turned to do as he had been bidden.
"You there!" she called to one of the maids nearest her as the girl loaded a tray full of empty dishes and platters of untouched meats and cheeses. "Find me a clean chalice and fill it with wine."
The maid paused in her duties, curtsied politely, and reached for the desired items, filling a cup full before turning with it toward the one who had requested the drink.
"I was told my brother had left London for Burchard. Has he returned?" she asked, taking the chalice from the young girl.
"Yea, m'lady."
"And did Sir Amery accompany him here?"
The maid bobbed her head a second time.
Hiding her delight over this knowledge behind the cup she had raised to her lips, Mertice turned to gaze into the fire while she waited for the wine to chase away the chill in her bones. "And where might my brother and Sir Amery be? Tis not late. I expected to find the great hall full of merrymakers."
"Tragedy befell Burchard, m'lady, and—"
Mertice's head jerked around to stare at the girl. "Tragedy?" she echoed in alarm, thinking that something had happened to Amery. "Has someone been hurt?"
"Yea, m'lady," the maid sadly reported with a nod of her head. "Sir Hadwin has been killed, and Lady Jewel is missing."
"Lady Jewel?" The name was frighteningly familiar, and knowing of no other, Mertice asked, "Lady Jewel of Harcourt? Sir Amery's betrothed?"
"Yea, Lady Mertice, Sir Amery's betrothed."
"But you speak as though she had been here ... at Burchard."
"Yea, m'lady. Sir Amery brought her with him."
The chalice trembled in her hand as jealousy flared up to consume the woman. Mertice sucked in a deep breath and cast her gaze upon the flames in the hearth again. "Tell me what happened," she ordered.
"Tis rumored that Sir Amery took his betrothed from her home against her will to protect her from his half brother, Sir Radolf. Lady Jewel's family was massacred, and Sir Amery lays the blame on Sir Radolf. Lady Jewel would not believe it, and your brother feels that she asked Sir Hadwin's help to escape her betrothed. When their disappearance was discovered, Lord Gunther and Sir Amery went after them. But they were too late. Sir Hadwin had been slain, and Lady Jewel was gone."
"Slain? By whom?" Mertice quietly asked.
"Lord Gunther said that Sir Amery believes it was done by a knight of his half brother's, not Burchard's enemy, Orton of Terrell."
"And where is my brother now?" Although her question appeared to show concern for Gunther, Mertice was certain that the maid would unknowingly reveal Amery's presence as well.
"He returned to the castle for only a short while—enough time to gather food and fur pelts and anything else that would ease their task in searching for Lady Jewel. He took an army with him to follow Sir Amery's trail, and they lit their way with burning torches. He told Lady Anne that he would not return until they had found Lady Jewel."
Mertice quickly raised her chalice to her lips and took a drink to mask the anger that curled her mouth. "Then they think Lady Jewel is still alive? That this knight of Amery's half brother has not killed her as well?"
"They pray, m'lady."
"And if he has not, where doth Gunther think he will find her?"
"On the road that will take her away from Burchard
, m'lady. Lord Gunther believes that if Lady Jewel escaped the executioner, she will try to leave the Isle of Wight and return to Harcourt."
Mertice could feel the blood draining from her face, and she quickly turned her back on the serving maid. "That will be all," she said with a dismissing flip of her hand and waited until the sounds of the girl's footsteps had faded behind her before she collapsed in a chair. Was it possible that the woman her knights had stopped to help along the way was Lady Jewel, Amery's betrothed? If she had been a witness to a man's death, it would certainly explain why she had been wandering aimlessly through the woods half out of her wits as Hube had said she had been. But what she could not understand was why Amery had brought her with him, why he wanted to protect her. It was common gossip at the royal palace that Amery would very likely never marry his betrothed, or any woman, for that matter. He did not like women. He desired them, but he did not like them. An evil, calculating smile spread slowly over Mertice's face. But there was always a way to trick such a man, and Mertice had already thought of it. She would be the one with whom Amery would stand before the altar. With a venomous look in her eyes, she glanced at the huge door to the great hall. But first she would have to dispose of Jewel.
Chapter 16
"Excuse me, m'lady," the young maid standing at the side of Mertice's bed apologized, "but Sir Norward says he must speak with you and that it is most urgent. He begs thy forgiveness for the hour, but says thou wilt understand once you have heard the news he brings."
Blinking in the muted light of her bedchambers, Mertice rose up on one elbow and glanced at the closed shutters of the window and the gray light struggling in through the cracks. "Tis morning?"
"Nearly, m'lady."
Yawning, she sat up and stretched. "Has anyone other than Norward come to the great hall?"
"Only the serving maids."
"Then tell Norward to come here," she said, flipping off the covers. "But give me time to dress."
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