Snow startled when his finger landed on her lips, stopping her from speaking.
“I’ve spoken. It is done. You will stay here,” he said, making it clear he wouldn’t tolerate an argument from her. “Nettle will return with Thaw soon. Until then you will not—will not—move off this chair.”
Snow’s hand gently removed her husband’s finger from against her mouth. “I feel chilled and would prefer to sit closer to the hearth.”
Tarass took her arm and guided her to the table where he knew she preferred to sit. “This is where I better find you, wife, when I return.” He kissed her lips quickly to stop any further discussion.
Snow watched the gray blur that was her husband walk away and scrunched her eyes. Was that a shape she saw? It certainly appeared to have form. Her hand went to rest on her stomach as if somehow her touch could calm the excited flutters that flourished there. Was it possible? Was more of her vision returning? Even if it was only shapes she saw, that would be wonderful. It would make it so much easier for her to get around, to navigate unfamiliar places, and allow her to be less dependent on others.
She hoped it was so, but she didn’t want to let herself get too excited and she certainly didn’t intend to share the spark of hope only to disappoint others. She would wait and see what came of it, and pray.
Snow settled her hands around the warm tankard a servant placed in front of her and waited impatiently to hear something, anything, of what was going on. Gray blurs passed by her, some rushed, others slow, but it was the whisper that wasn’t a soft whisper that caught her attention.
“His appetite is great. She will never be enough for him.”
“Unlike me, who can please him in ways that would shock her.”
Snow didn’t recognize the one voice. It was too hushed, though she could tell it was a woman. The other voice she recognized, it was Fasta.
“She will be gone soon,” the hushed voice said as if certain.
“Not soon enough.”
A slight shiver ran through Snow at Fasta’s reply. The unknown woman was quite sure that Snow would soon be gone from here while Fasta wanted Tarass in her bed. Or was it that she wanted him back in her bed? Had Tarass coupled with the servant? In what ways could Fasta please Tarass that Snow couldn’t? She certainly didn’t have vast experience when it came to coupling, but things seemed to come naturally when making love with her husband. If she lacked some way in making love, she’d want to know about it.
The voices trailed off as the gray blurs walked away.
Snow had no doubt that both women intended her to hear them. They also probably thought that she would say nothing to her husband, too embarrassed or too proper to dare discuss coupling with him. They were wrong.
“It is cold, windy, and deep with snow out there,” Nettle said as she approached Snow after entering the Great Hall.
Thaw barked and ran around the table, his front paws landing on Snow’s leg and a low whimper coming from him as he looked at her.
“My goodness, he is an intelligent pup. He senses that you’re upset and I see that you are. But, of course, you are. How could you not be? Everyone else is. Another pool of blood being found does not bode well for the clan,” Nettle said, her voice filled with worry.
Snow was relieved that Nettle surmised her worry was related to the news of the pool of blood. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone, but her husband, of the conversation she had heard between the two women.
“What is being said?” Snow asked eager to find out anything she could as she gave Thaw a hug to let him know she was fine.
Nettle sat opposite Snow and kept her voice low. “They fear that until the dwarfs get the knowledge they seek more will die.”
“There was a body with the blood?”
“No, only the pool of blood, but most believe a body will be found soon enough.”
“Are all accounted for in the clan?” Snow asked, praying everyone was safe.
“Lord Tarass has ordered a count, though no one has reported anyone missing,” Nettle said, sounding relieved.
“Let’s hope it remains that way.”
“If the tale about the dwarfs are true, I hope they’ve found the knowledge they seek and are well gone by now,” Nettle said, a shudder running through her.
That was the ultimate question. The pools of blood meant something, but what? The last time she and Tarass had discussed the pools of blood, she had thought it more a warning for Tarass about his parents’ deaths, but she wondered if someone could be seeking knowledge. Could the pools of blood indicate that knowledge had been found? But what knowledge could be learned from a dead man with markings? And no body had been found with the first pool of blood or so far with this third pool of blood. So what could either of them represent?
The noise of the servants busy placing dishes of food on the table intruded on Snow’s thoughts.
“If she needs anything else, you’ll have to come get it, Nettle. I’m too busy to be doing your chore.”
Snow recognized Fasta’s snappish voice and this time she spoke up. “Your chore is to serve in the Great Hall and you will do so or I will have you assigned a different chore.”
“That’s not your decision,” Fasta said.
“It is my decision. I am the lady of the keep and you will address me properly and obey my commands or you will no longer serve this keep in any capacity,” Snow commanded, anger so strong in her voice that Thaw barked.
“Aye, my lady,” Fasta said after a moment of hesitation.
“Now apologize to Nettle for being so rude to her,” Snow ordered. She didn’t need to see Fasta’s face to know how angry her command had made her. She heard it in Nettle’s small gasp.
“I apologize, Nettle,” Fasta said quickly.
“A warning, Fasta,” Snow said before the woman could walk away. “If you retaliate against Nettle in any way because of this, you will rue the day.”
“Aye, my lady,” Fasta said and hurried off.
Nettle kept her voice low and an eye on Fasta’s retreating back as she spoke. “No one in the keep would miss her.”
“Fasta isn’t liked?” Snow asked, though wasn’t surprised to hear it.
“She thinks herself important, demeans others, and demands as if she’s lady of the keep. She believes Lord Tarass favors her bed and has tried to convince others that he’s shared it several times, but none believe her tales. They all know Lord Tarass has no interest in her. He pays her no special attention. She is a servant like all the other servants.” Nettle smiled. “Except me. Others have told me she’s jealous of my new and important position in the keep, and that she can’t dictate to me anymore.”
Snow was relieved to hear that, though it didn’t mean she wouldn’t bring it up to her husband. She wanted to hear his thoughts on Fasta.
“She can’t dictate to you anymore, Nettle,” Snow confirmed. “And if she causes you any grief, you are to tell me immediately.”
“I will, m’lady,” Nettle assured her.
“Now let’s enjoy the morning fare before it turns cold,” Snow said and Thaw stopped scoffing down his food, set by the hearth, long enough to bark in agreement.
“People are already looking to blame and you know what that means,” Rannock said as he stood with Tarass staring at the pool of blood held as if in a goblet of snow.
“Fear will reign and innocent people will suffer,” Tarass said, having seen it and the results of something worrisome left too long unexplained to fester and spread fear. “Besides taking count of the people, see if any animals are missing. This blood had to have come from somewhere.”
Rannock shook his head. “Why? Why the pools of blood? What do they mean?” He lowered his voice. “Could the tales be true? Are the dwarfs seeking knowledge?”
“Someone is seeking something and, whether dwarfs or human, they will pay for what’s been done here. Like the others, this had to have been done when no one was about, which means the person or persons had knowledge o
f our sentinels.”
Rannock’s eyes went wide. “You think someone in the clan is responsible?”
“It’s a possibility to consider.”
“But why would anyone in the clan do something like this?”
“I don’t know, but we need to keep the thought in mind and keep our eyes and ears alert,” Tarass said.
“If you want to know all that goes on in the clan just ask Nettle, she seems to know everything,” Rannock said with a disgruntled huff.
“What is it about that woman that annoys you?”
“She never stops talking and she constantly details things. She says who’s in the room, who they are, what they’re doing, and when she’s outside, she talks about the weather and who is around, and what bairn belongs to who, and she even details what the pup is sniffing at. It’s endless,” Rannock said and was surprised to see Tarass’s brow scrunched deep in thought as if he didn’t believe him. “It’s true, my lord.”
Tarass nodded. “It is and I’m annoyed I haven’t taken note of it myself.”
“What does it matter? The woman will never shut up.”
“No, she won’t and I don’t want her to.”
“Why not?” Rannock asked, thinking him crazy.
“That is why my wife favors her. Nettle’s details allow my wife to see what everyone else is seeing, and I’m grateful to her for that, since it’s something I should have been doing myself.”
“Oh, I never thought of that,” Rannock admitted. “Nettle helps Lady Snow to see the keep, imagine the people, and get to know them.”
“Nettle helps her to be part of the clan, something I have failed to do,” Tarass said even more annoyed for not realizing it.
“You’ve been wed but two days.”
“You know I don’t tolerate poor excuses,” Tarass said, “and neither should you. You should ask yourself why it’s so easy for you to speak to Nettle and no other woman. You never search or falter your words when you talk with her.”
“Argue is more like it,” Rannock grumbled.
“Why? Is it that you both avoid something?”
“I don’t avoid anything,” Rannock grumbled again.
“I am not blind, but I’ve learned I can be. I argued endlessly with Snow before I realized I had feelings for her, that I refused to acknowledge. Maybe there is something about Nettle you refuse to acknowledge.”
“I like Runa,” Rannock argued.
“Do you? What is it you like about her?”
Rannock grinned. “She’s beautiful.”
“What else?”
Rannock went to speak and nothing came out of his mouth.
“What annoys you about Nettle?”
“What doesn’t annoy me about Nettle,” Rannock said, shaking his head. “Her endless chatter, her refusal to obey my commands, her constantly pointing out things. That she finds everything curious, smiles all the time, and she’s plain to look at.”
“Then why do other men look at her?”
Rannock lips turned up in a snarl. “Who’s looks at her?”
Tarass kept his smile from surfacing. “A few men have given her more than a glance. I wouldn’t be surprised if one or more makes their interest known soon.”
“It’s because she has an important position in the keep now. That’s why men have shown interest in her,” Rannock argued.
“Or they find her attractive,” Tarass said. “Either way, someone’s bound to claim her soon.”
Rannock grumbled again, then said, “I need to see to the count of the people and animals.”
“Check with the cook as well and see if any animals were slaughtered in the last two days and what was done with the blood.”
“I never thought of that,” Rannock said with a nod. “I’ll see to it, and I’ll see to having this cleaned away.”
“One other thing, Rannock,” Tarass said. “Send a few warriors to see if the cleric made it to the monastery.”
“You think this could be his blood?”
“I don’t know, but if it is I want to know before anyone else does,” Tarass said and headed back to the keep.
He spotted Nettle heading toward the hall that connected the kitchen and called out to her.
She turned and hurried over to him. “My lord, Lady Snow asked to wait for you in the room—”
“She’s claimed as her solar,” Tarass finished.
“I do believe she has claimed it as such, my lord,” Nettle agreed with the smile she wore spreading. “The hearth was left to burn out and a chill has set in. I got a fire going, plied her with blankets, and left Thaw snuggling at her feet. Now I’m fetching m’lady a hot brew.”
Rannock was right, the woman could detail things. “You take good care of Lady Snow.”
Nettle’s smile captured her whole face. “Thank you, my lord, though it is no chore in serving Lady Snow. She is a kind and wonderful person, and I am honored to be in her service.”
“That is good to know, Nettle. I want to talk with you. Please direct one of the servants to take the hot brew to Lady Snow, then meet me in my solar.”
“Have I done something wrong, my lord,” Nettle asked nervously.
“There is nothing for you to be worried about, Nettle,” Tarass assured her and spotted Fasta. “Have Fasta take Lady Snow the brew.”
“No, my lord, that would not be wise,” she said in haste to keep him from calling out to the woman.
“Why is that, Nettle?” Tarass asked, concerned he had failed to see something else.
“It’s a bit of a tale, I’d prefer to tell after I make sure Lady Snow gets her hot brew.”
“Very well,” Tarass said with a nod. “Meet me in my solar when you’ve seen to it.”
Tarass went to his solar, wondering if he’d been blind to more things than he’d realized. Had he been so bent on revenging his parents’ death that he hadn’t paid enough attention to the reason for their deaths. And what of Fasta? Why hadn’t Nettle thought it wise for the woman to take a brew to his wife? He was eager to talk with Nettle and was glad he didn’t have to wait very long to his relief.
“Lady Snow rests comfortably,” Nettle said proudly.
“You do well by Lady Snow, Nettle. Now tell me why you didn’t want Fasta to take the brew,” he said impatient to find out.
Nettle settled into detailing what had taken place in the Great Hall earlier. She left nothing out and spoke with pride of how Lady Snow had defended her.
Tarass kept his anger contained, recalling Rannock’s words how Nettle knew all that went on in the clan. “Is there any reason you would know why Fasta would take such liberties to speak as she did.”
“You asked so I shall be truthful and tell you what I told Lady Snow.”
“That is what I want, Nettle, the truth.”
Nettle bobbed her head. “Fasta believes herself privileged because she implies that you share her bed.”
All Tarass could think was that she told Snow this, but he wouldn’t ask Nettle his wife’s response, he would ask Snow himself.
“Of course, everyone knows you don’t,” Nettle said and continued as if knowing what he’d ask next. “You would find no interest in her. It was plain to most, maybe a few, or perhaps I saw what others didn’t. That you loved Lady Snow long before you brought her here.”
“And what made you believe that?” he asked, thinking the young lass more astute than even Rannock believed.
“You complained about her after each visit to the Macardle keep and talked about her often. Only someone in love has a person on their mind that much.”
If only he had been so astute, he could have saved himself time and trouble.
“You observe things well. I need you to keep keen eyes and ears on all that goes on in the keep and outside it as well. If anything—anything at all—seems amiss, I want you to tell me and only me.”
“Aye, my lord, that will be an easy task for me. I love to watch people. It became a habit when few, mostly none, would talk wi
th me. I watched and listened and saw things that most ignore.”
“Like what, Nettle?” he asked.
“I don’t want to gossip, my lord,” Nettle said.
“Gossip might provide a clue as to the problem we’re presently having.”
Nettle hesitated a moment, though saw no way out of telling what she saw. “The young warrior Dolan is sneaking into Maude’s cottage at night.”
“How do you know this?” Tarass demanded, knowing the warrior had sentinel duties at night.
“I sometimes have trouble sleeping so I walk through the village late when everyone is asleep so that I am tired when I return to bed and finally am able to sleep.” His nod permitted her to continue. “Fasta seeks endless charms from Runa, and I heard her complain that one brought the wrong man to her. It seemed the charm had Helga’s husband seeking out Fasta. She didn’t deny him and was now worried he’d gotten her with child, since his seed takes root easily, Helga having three bairns in the four years since wed.”
Tarass was stunned at what the woman knew and realized Rannock was right. The woman saw and heard everything.
“And Rannock pines over Runa and hides when he sees her. He can’t bring himself to talk to her, though I don’t see how she’d be good for him. She barely glances at any man.”
Tarass almost smiled. Had he and Snow been that obvious? Had Nettle been the only one to see it? He almost shook his head. Twilla had and said nothing. But then perhaps love needed to find its way in its own good time.
“You will keep watch for me, Nettle, and keep me apprised of all that goes on,” Tarass said.
“Aye, my lord,” she said with a nod.
Tarass left his solar shortly after Nettle, letting her know that Snow would send for her when needed. Then he climbed the stairs and entered the small room that his wife had claimed as her solar.
“Snow,” he said, letting her know it was him when he entered the room, keeping it foremost in his mind that she needed to see through his eyes just as Nettle so generously shared hers.
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