The Song of the Thrush

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The Song of the Thrush Page 3

by Christine Pope


  As to that, I had no idea. To be honest, the thought of having to construct a new dress all on my own rather horrified me. My needle might have been talented enough when it came to embroidering a pillowcase or a velvet band to trim a gown, but of course I had never made an entire garment by myself. That had been Sendra’s responsibility — or, when an especially fine gown was needed for a particular holiday or a wedding, we sent for a dressmaker from Iselfex. I told myself that it was now only early Sevendre, and the truly cold days would not arrive until late Novendre, so I had some time to puzzle out how to do such a thing.

  In the meantime, I had far more pressing matters to worry about, not the least of which was the prospect of being married to Corin Blackstone within the hour.

  “Pack whatever you think is best,” I told Sendra, and went away from the wardrobe so I might lower myself to the window seat. That shaky sensation had returned to my knees, and I needed a moment to regain my composure.

  Sendra gave me a sympathetic nod, and then got out the smaller of my two valises and began laying folded dresses and chemises and pantalets and stockings in it. Once the valise was full and she had buckled it closed, I realized there were still an alarming number of gowns hanging in the wardrobe. I had room to take three or four with me, and no more than that.

  “I will take good care of them, my lady,” she said, perhaps seeing my sadness over having to leave so many lovely possessions behind. “That is, if I am allowed to.”

  Her comment made me frown. “What do you mean, if you are allowed to?”

  She gave a slight lift of her shoulders, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “It is only that I am your lady’s maid, Lady Marenna. If you are sent away from here, off to a life that has no room in it for servants, then where does that leave me?”

  Oh, no. I could not bear that. It was one thing for me to suffer the consequences of my rash behavior, but quite another for poor Sendra to be punished as well. She had nothing to do with the foolish words I had uttered to Lord Sorthannic the day before. “I will make sure that my father keeps you on,” I said stoutly.

  This bold claim only earned me a sad smile. “That is very good of you, my lady, but in truth, if you are gone, there will not be much for me to do here. About the best I can hope for is that your father finds it in his heart to send me to one of your brothers’ households — Lord Evander’s newest is something of a handful, or so I’ve heard, and so perhaps I can be of some help.”

  Yes, my youngest niece was just beginning to walk, and causing something of a terror in the household, according to the lively letters my brother sent me. I had not seen little Janessa since she was a babe in arms last Midwinter, but I could see why Evander and his wife might wish for more assistance. That seemed to be the best solution for my poor maid, and yet the thought of Sendra leaving the estate struck me to the heart. She had been here at Silverhold ever since I was born and had always seemed to me as much a fixture of the place as the grand arch of stone that led into my father’s audience hall, or the expensive glass windows that let such light into the building.

  Still, better that she go to my brother than be thrown out onto the street, an all-too-common fate for servants who had outlived their perceived usefulness.

  Father would never do such a thing, I told myself, and yet I was not sure I could believe that inner reassurance. After all, he was doing nearly the same thing to me, was he not?

  “That seems a very good idea,” I said, willing my voice to sound calm. I did not want Sendra to see how upset I was.

  She knew me too well for that, however. Although she offered only a smile, she came to me and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder, and set the packed valise down by my feet. A few strokes of the brush through my hair, and then she said, “Come, my lady. With your father in such a mood, it is probably best not to keep him waiting too long.”

  I nodded, and swallowed the dread that seemed to choke my throat. Sendra bent and picked up the valise, then went to the door and held it open for me. Soon enough I would have to carry my luggage myself — for somehow I had the feeling that Master Blackstone would not deign to perform such a task for his wife. Then I chided myself, because of course I did not know Corin Blackstone at all, and had no idea whether or not he would show such courtesy to me.

  Sendra and I descended the stairs. I was still dressed in one of my good gowns but had decided not to change, for I might as well be married in something lovely, even if it might end up getting ruined by the time the day was ended. And I saw that a priest had joined my father and Master Blackstone, was conversing with the two of them in low tones, although they fell silent as I approached.

  Perhaps I flattered myself, but I thought I saw a spark of interest in Corin Blackstone’s eyes as he looked on me, although almost at once it disappeared, and he only gave me a slight nod. Very well, if that was how he wished to play it, then I would be as cool and composed as he.

  Even so, I could not entirely ignore the flutter in my stomach as the priest took his place on the lowest step of the dais, with Corin and I standing before him. My father moved slightly to one side, and Sendra took up an almost identical position opposite him. We would have no other witnesses; other than the five of us, the hall was empty. But that was all custom required, even though this spare setting was a far cry from the lavish ceremony I had imagined for myself, with flowers on all sides and silk hangings on the walls, and a gown finer than anything I’d worn before for my bridal day.

  I had attended the weddings of my brothers, and witnessed the ceremonies at many others, both friends and distant relations, and so the words the priest spoke were familiar enough to me. Still, even though I did not falter as I repeated the ancient vows, some part of me kept thinking that surely I must be asleep and suffering a terrible dream. Once or twice I had had nightmares of marrying someone I did not know, but always before I had awakened the next morning to realize that those awful dreams were merely that, and nothing more. Now, however, I knew that no such sweet morning would come to end this particular nightmare.

  At last came the time to share the ritual kiss. I tilted my face up toward Corin Blackstone and forced myself to keep my eyes open, so I might look on the man I must now call husband. Oh, gods, this close, I could see how truly handsome he was, how long the lashes that encircled his dark eyes, how finely chiseled his nose and mouth.

  And now that mouth was touching mine, but briefly, only the faintest whisper of a kiss before he drew away. Surely I should not have reacted to such a cursory caress, and yet for some reason, I experienced an odd thrill that seemed to move through my entire body, a new kind of heat I could not entirely explain. Of course it could not be love, for I did not know this man at all. Was this what all the books and poems meant when they spoke of desire? That emotion was often described as hot and fiery, and although I couldn’t say that I was precisely on fire, the flush brought on by Corin’s kiss did not subside immediately, but continued to pulse deep within me, awakening a need I had never felt before.

  “It is done,” the priest said. “You are now man and wife, Corin and Marenna Blackstone.”

  If we had had a true wedding, then that was the moment when all would have risen from their seats and cheered the newly wedded couple. As it was, my father only gave a curt nod, while Sendra fished a handkerchief from within her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes with it.

  “The day is early yet,” Corin said, “and so I thought we should be on the road as soon as possible. That way, we can cover as much ground as we are able to before nightfall.”

  I did not much like the sound of his plan, but I was provided no chance to protest, for my father replied at once, “Yes, that sounds like a very good idea.” He gave me the briefest glance before adding, “There are several good inns within an afternoon’s walk.”

  Walk? Was he mad? I looked from him to Corin and back again, and could see nothing in either of their expressions that told me they were sharing a joke. Yes, I had known I would have to g
o forth from this place with only what I might pack in one bag, but I had never thought that I would be forced to walk. Surely my father would not be so cruel as to make me go on foot, instead of sending us away with a pair of horses in addition to the fifty gold crowns he had already promised.

  “But — ” I began, but Master Blackstone cut in before I could continue, saying,

  “And I do think it better if you change your gown, my lady wife. The road dust will ruin the skirts of that dress, and besides, it is best not to attract too much attention when traveling the high road.”

  “Very sensible,” my father said. “Do go and change, Marenna, and be quick about it, so you do not leave your new husband waiting too long.”

  How could I even begin to protest? Yes, I understood the common sense of what Corin had just requested, and yet I hated the thought of having to go upstairs once again to put on something more suitable. It would have been easier if I could have simply walked away with my new husband. Now I would have to return to my bedchamber and be reminded yet again of everything I was about to lose.

  Certainly I must have appeared crestfallen, for Sendra said quickly, “My lord, I will go up with her and help my lady change. It will not take very long at all.”

  My father didn’t precisely smile, but something about his countenance seemed to soften as he looked down at my faithful lady’s maid. “I thank you for your service, mistress. And fear not — your future will always be secure. I had a thought to send you to my son Evander’s household, if that meets with your approval.”

  “It does, my lord,” she replied, and sketched a hasty curtsey. “I very much appreciate your generosity. But now, let me do this one last service for her ladyship.”

  He inclined his head, and she bent and picked up my valise. Since it seemed any of my protests would be in vain, I said nothing, but only followed her back upstairs and stood in mute despair as she undid the lacing on my fine silken gown, then removed it and laid it on the bed. Luckily, the dress of dark green linen she helped me into after that had not been packed away long enough to acquire too many wrinkles.

  Not that it matters, I told myself drearily, watching as Sendra took the silk gown and hung it in the wardrobe. Soon enough this dress will lose its crispness, and its hem will be muddied and torn, and the best you can hope for is that you will not encounter anyone you might know as you travel the high road, for surely to see any of those fine lords and ladies when you yourself have been so cast down would be utter wretchedness.

  These terrible thoughts made tears sting in my eyes, but I blinked them back and took several deep breaths so they might help to push away the sobs that had begun to rise in my throat. The last thing I wanted was for my father to see how he had defeated me, or for my new husband to think I wept because I hated the thought of being married to him. Perhaps no one could fault me for feeling that way, but I knew I did not hate Corin. I did not know him well enough to hate him. Besides….

  I thought again of the strange feelings his kiss had aroused in me, how my body had responded to him. No, that was certainly not hate. Possibly it could become the opposite, if he allowed it…and if I could ever learn to reconcile myself to this new and cruel life being thrust upon me.

  Sendra passed the brush over my hair again, and then offered to braid it, since she said it would get dreadfully tangled being out in the wind and the elements. All I could do was nod, because I knew she had the right of the matter. In truth, as a newly married woman, I should put my hair up and not leave it lying loose like a maiden. But we certainly did not have time for the sorts of elaborate hairstyles I had seen the noble married ladies of my acquaintance wearing, and so the braid seemed like a passable solution.

  Once Sendra was done, I thought I barely recognized my reflection — so wan and tense, with all the wealth of my long dark hair pulled severely back from my face. No jewels, either, for my maid had quietly suggested that I remove the gold and garnet earrings I wore, and the gold and pearl band on my right hand. No ring on my left, either, for of course my new husband had not seen fit to give me one. That lack made me feel as if I was not truly married at all, but I did not see what I could do about the situation. We were married in the eyes of the gods, and with that I would have to be content.

  I descended the stairs once more, this time without the rustle of my silken skirts as accompaniment. And again my father and Corin Blackstone spoke in low tones, but left off as soon as I made my appearance.

  “Much better,” Corin said, giving me an approving glance. My cheeks heated under his regard, but I did my best to stand there calmly and pretend as though there was nothing strange about the entire situation.

  “Then you might as well be on your way,” my father said. “Sendra, give her ladyship her valise.”

  Face tight with worry, the lines around her dark eyes seeming deeper than ever, my maid came to me and put the valise in my hand, wrapping my fingers around the handle — and placing her fingers on top of mine for the briefest moment, as though to offer me a final bit of encouragement. I could not exactly smile, but I nodded, hoping she would see in my eyes the gratitude I felt for her kindness.

  Corin came to stand next to me, but I paused for a moment, and lifted my chin so I might look my father directly in the eyes as I spoke. “Goodbye, Father. I pray that someday you do not regret your rashness in this matter.”

  His stern expression did not waver. “Just as I wish the same for you, daughter.”

  I was already regretting my words to the Duke of Marric’s Rest, regretting them a thousand times over, but there was little I could do about that now. I looked away from the man who had raised me, and into the dark eyes of the one who was now my husband.

  “Let us go,” I said clearly.

  Corin put his hand on my elbow and guided me to the door. And so I left the only home I had ever known.

  CHAPTER 3

  We did not speak as we walked down the front steps, nor as we trod the long, winding pathway that cut through the castle grounds and the wall surrounding the keep. The sun was bright and cheerful overhead, seeming to care nothing for my current despair. Because we had had no rain for nearly a week, the roadside, once we reached it, was dry and hard and dusty. The slippers I wore allowed me to feel every pebble, every rut, but I would not complain, no matter how uncomfortable I might be.

  That noble vow lasted for the first mile or so. After gritting my teeth and telling myself to ignore the pain for what felt like the thousandth time, I looked up at Corin and said, “I do not see why we could not have ridden. My father surely would have given you a horse, if you had but asked.”

  He shook his head. The fresh breeze had pulled a few strands of hair loose from the leather thong that bound it at the base of his neck, and they blew around his face now, dancing away as if happy to be so close to his handsome features. “Perhaps he would have,” Corin replied. “But a horse is expensive to feed and look after, and we could not be guaranteed accommodations for one in any of the places where we might be going. It is better to walk and to be thus unencumbered.”

  Simple enough for you to say, I thought with some resentment as I looked at the sturdy boots he wore. They were made of thick brown leather, and had nice thick soles to match. No doubt he could not feel even a tenth of the same rocks and stones that had been biting into my feet. As for the rest, well, of course I had never needed to worry about how my father fed and sheltered his large stable of horses, or the packs of hounds he used in the hunt. I had taken my family’s wealth for granted, like the sun rising every morning, or spring following winter. The silver in the mines behind my home seemed inexhaustible, and so of course were the funds that poured in to pay for the horses and my gowns and our servants and men-at-arms.

  But I did have to admit that horses tended to eat a great deal, and were almost as particular as humans when it came to requiring a place to shelter for the night. However, I did not want to concede to Corin that he might be correct about the practicality of go
ing on foot, and so I answered obliquely, leaving out any mention of horses but saying, “And where is it that we are going? Do you have some destination in mind?”

  “Yes, that I do.” His gaze shifted slightly to the southeast as he said, “We are traveling to Marric’s Rest, for the vineyards there are extensive, and I believe I will have no trouble getting work during their harvest.”

  My heart seemed to stop at his words. No, he could not possibly be suggesting such a thing! To take me to the lands of the man I had scorned, to see everything that could have been mine, if only I had not been so impulsive! The only comfort I could take was that Corin did not know the true reason for my disgrace, only that my father wished to marry me off as quickly as possible.

  And oh, gods, the ignominy if my path should ever cross that of Lord Sorthannic….

  “There are no other estates in the vicinity that might offer the same work?” I asked, hoping that I sounded steady rather than ready to burst into tears, which was somewhat closer to how I felt in that moment.

  “Not as many as you might think, for the lands here are newly come to the growing of grapes. It is a crop that fares better in warmer climes, but his Grace has been something of a pioneer in coaxing some very good vintages out of this rocky soil. I believe it is on his estate that we have the best chance of getting a situation.”

  Something about the way Corin’s voice warmed as he spoke of growing the vines made me realize he must love his work. For some reason, that surprised me, for I had never given much thought as to whether the farmers on my family’s own estates cared for what they did. It was their place in this world, just as it was mine to be the pampered daughter of the castle.

  Not any longer, of course. Those days, it seemed, were already behind me.

  “I see,” I said. I knew there was no point in arguing with him, because of course he understood his prospects far better than I did. And really, the chances of my even seeing the lord of the manor had to be exceedingly slim. Unlike Corin, I would not be working in the fields. I assumed we would be given a cottage of some sort to live in, which I would manage. Exactly what taking care of our house might entail, I wasn’t sure, but I assumed it would have something to do with cooking and cleaning…both fields of knowledge in which I was woefully lacking. I could embroider, and dance the verdralle with elegance and grace, and even prepare sweet sachets of herbs for a castle’s wardrobes and clothes presses…all of which would do me very little good when it came to managing a household all by myself. Yes, I knew how to tell the cook to prepare a menu, and to inform a housekeeper that the chambermaids weren’t getting into the corners as they should, but that sort of household was very different from the one in which I would soon find myself.

 

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