Boadicea's Legacy (38 page)

The innkeeper and his wife huddled close together, wondering no doubt what this would do for their business. Customers didn't usually take to dead bodies in the kitchen. She felt Os breathing behind her, but he didn't rush her through her observations.

“Where are the guests?” Ela asked the innkeeper.

“We brought them sweet rolls in the dining area so that they would be out of the way.”

“Good. Can we question them to find out if they heard anything?”

St. Germaine answered with a curt nod. “I asked. They heard your scream. A thump, one of them said. Nothing they could identify.”

Ela took a deep breath and locked eyes with St. Germaine. “I am ready to see the … the body.”
The woman who might have been my mother-in-law if I'd gotten my way
. She shivered, then knelt down.

Someone had moved the body so that it was on its side. Ela saw her eating dagger sticking out of Natalia's back.
“Only in a half an inch, maybe one. Did it even pierce the flesh through the clothes?”

Albric and Warin scooted closer. “Are you supposed to be touching that?” Albric gestured toward the knife.

Warin shook his head. “I don't think you are. We should wait for the sheriff to get here.”

“Why didn't you think to call for the sheriff, eh?” Albric's distrust was causing his aura to spike with black. Fear. He and Warin both seemed afraid of her.

She felt Os's calming hand on her shoulder. “Because at Montehue Manor, we don't have one. My father is the lord of the manor, and his rule is law.” Ela fumbled with the laces on Lady Steffen's costly dress. “St. Germaine, will you cut those?”

With a grunt of approval, he slid his dagger through the stubborn knots. She pulled the fabric apart, carefully avoiding the area where her eating knife was stuck in the body. “Just a drop of blood at the entry. For certes, this is nothing that would cause death. In fact, I think she was already dead when someone stabbed her.”

She sat back on her heels as she heard Os say, “Ah. Exactly.” Then he came down the steps and into the kitchen.

“Albric. Warin. A word outside.”

Ela stared at the trio as they left her alone in the kitchen with St. Germaine. “I suppose we will finish the examination ourselves.”

He smiled in agreement. “You are doing as fine a job as any physician.”

“Thank you. I do hope you are going to be one of the men the earl asked to stay with us.”

“The earl didn't ask me, but I would follow Osbert to hell, if necessary. There are few men who are as honorable as he.”

Ela quirked a brow. “Hell. Hopefully our new home won't be as bad as all that. I've never been there, so I can't make any promises.”

“You will be a good wife for him. I'm pleased.” With that, he got up and went outside after the other men.

“Well,” Ela said as she watched him go. “That is nice.”

She assumed that the sheriff would want to see the body and the evidence for himself. “Did you really fall, Natalia? Were you running, or afraid?” She searched but didn't find any other clue to Lady Steffen's demise.

By the time the sheriff came, disgruntled at being dragged from his home just as dawn was rising, Ela had changed into a proper gown and managed to tuck her hair beneath a veil and short wimple. To the outward eye, she looked like a lady.

Inside, she was shaking like she had Old Palson's tremors. There was no cure for the old man, but when they got too bad, Ela could calm them enough so he could eat without spilling.

The four men still hadn't returned, so Ela asked the innkeeper to send a boy to find them.

As they waited, Ela acted as hostess, offering the sheriff a hot drink and some oats with honey. She answered his
questions honestly, but he had no reason to suspect anything more than a fall down the stairs. He hadn't bothered to do more than glance at the body, which Ela had rolled to its back.

“Looks like her neck broke,” he said, spooning porridge into his mouth.

“Aye.” Ela smiled and sipped spiced wine to calm her belly.

“Are you kin?”

“She had no family that would claim her. I was …”
a friend
. “I will pay for the burial so that your village doesn't have to absorb the cost.”

“Too kind, my lady, too kind. We've a nice churchyard, where the poor woman can rest in peace.” He donned his hat and left through the front door just as the knights tumbled in through the back.

Ela rushed to the kitchens, alarmed at the amount of noise they were making. Her mouth dropped open.

“Did we miss the sheriff?” Warin asked, holding his wadded-up tunic to his bleeding lip.

“Oh, my—yea. What happened?” Ela held out her hand, prepared to heal as best she could without making them more suspicious of her. “Should we call him back? Were you set upon?”

Her heart thudded as Warin shook his head. “Nay.”

Albric, his hand to his nose, blood splattering between his fingers, stayed mute. St. Germaine towered over them, no scrapes or cuts. “Did you do this?” Ela was too stunned to think of what to say. She'd never had someone fight for
her honor before.

It was a warm feeling to be appreciated … and since nothing was broken that she couldn't fix, she smiled her thanks.

“Not I.” St. Germaine crossed his giant arms over his chest.

When Osbert entered the kitchens, Ela found she couldn't breathe. He had a gash over his eye and a dark bruise on his cheekbone. His knuckles were swollen and bloody, and he was grinning like a fool.

“My hero?” Ela put her hand to her chest. “The calm and honorable Osbert Edyvean?” She couldn't believe it, but the evidence was there before her. He'd fought for her honor. She eyed the men he'd beaten. And won. “Oh, Osbert.”

She held out her hand, forgiving him for being so Osbert the instant their fingers linked. Placing a kiss on each swollen knuckle, she then brought the injured digits to rest against her cheek. “I can heal these wounds, my lord, as a good wife should.”

“You are the best of wives. I am sorry, Ela, to have questioned you.”

“I understand that you are acting on behalf of the Earl of Norfolk. I forget that you have more than one duty.”

“Nay,” Osbert said, crushing her to him. “You are no duty. If you would like to rest, then we will see to Lady Steffen.”

“Are you sure? I will gladly see to everyone's wounds.”

He scooted her to the side, out of hearing of the others.
“I can wait until this chore is done. Albric and Warin can let the innkeeper's wife tend to their needs.”

“I didn't realize that you had a vengeful side. I like it. Let me take Natalia's bag with me. Mayhap the Countess Isabelle, Ida, will want it. They were friends, and I'm sure she will want to know what happened.”

“You'll leave out the part about how she tried to poison you?” Osbert searched her face, for what, she didn't know.

“Of course! What good would that do? The misguided woman is dead.”

“She tried to kill you. Her son has tried to kidnap you for a forced marriage.”

“Os, you needn't worry now—everything is over.” She reached up and rubbed the deep furrow between his brows until he sighed and his shoulders eased. “Not everybody is an enemy.”

“And you are too trusting.”

Ela sighed. “Is this why we never lasted for eternal love? I will compromise if you will. You can protect me if I can be myself.”

His smile, swollen lip and all, made her knees go weak. “All right.” He took her hand and kissed the palm, sending a hot flick of his tongue over her wrist.

Blushing, she shook her finger at him. “Behave.”

Body humming, she took the bag and went up to her room, careful to look inside to make sure it was still empty before going in. She closed the door behind her and sat on the edge of her bed. She missed her sisters. Her mother. Her
Gram. And Meg. She sniffed and took unsteady breaths.

‘Tia would have charmed Osbert's knights with her delicate form and blond tresses. They wouldn't have tried to set her up for murdering a woman. And Galiana would have stilled their tongues with her beauty and grace, and they would be like loyal pups romping at her ladylike feet.

Me they want to crucify as a witch. Where did I go wrong?

The unsteady breaths turned into hiccups, which turned into tears. She fell back on the bed and cried herself to sleep.

Take the spear. Take the spear, Ana, and make sure it is safe. Boadicea's words rang through her head as she roused from a place of deep grief
.

Left behind for dead, the sounds of the Romans slaughtering the undisciplined Britons reached her just before the scent of blood made her gag. Turning—goddess's teeth, it hurt, turning to her side—she somehow found the inner strength to get to her knees
.

She crawled across dead friends and dead enemies, thinking only of Antonias and Andraste's spear. The spear had fallen
.

The war was over, and the Romans had won
.

Ana realized that there would be no more battles against Rome after this—the mighty legions would squash any resistance, and the survivors of this battle would pay dearly for Rome's pride
.

She crawled, careful not to rest on her belly. She used her elbow for leverage because her wrist was broken on one side, and she was missing fingers on the left. Laughing and crying, she thought of Diyani and her warrior rings
.

Please Goddess, let my sister wear the torc and be safe.

It was a blessing that she ever found her lover in the midst of the dying and dead.

His face was bloodless
.

She placed a kiss on his white lips and almost died when he opened his eyes
.

“Antonias,” she whispered, crying that they'd never have the future they'd promised one another
.

“Ana. Forgive me.”

She cried harder, so hard the babe in her belly kicked. “I cannot. You chose Rome over Britain.” She kissed his lips again. “Over me.”

“I did not choose Rome—or Britain. I chose you … You fell, Ana.”

“You needed to believe, Antonias—to have faith in me, in Andraste.”

“I love you. We swore, for forever.” The light in his eyes was dimming, and Ana knew his soul was leaving his body until it was time for it to be born again
.

“I love you.” Ana dropped quicksilver kisses over his face and mouth
.

“Then forgive me,” he pleaded
.

“I can't.”

He died, and Ana wiped the tears from her eyes so that she could see. The spear was calling to her, and she had to bring it home. There was no home
.

She was alone. If she just rested for a moment, just closed her eyes
…

The babe in her belly kicked
.

Telling her that she wasn't alone? She had responsibilities. Duties
.

Traditions to hand down. “I hear you. I'm coming.”

The spear glowed in the mass of men, bronze and gold and silver. How did they not see it? See its worth?

It must be spellbound, and only a true Briton can see the shine. Just as only a true Briton can hold the spear and lead it to victory
.

Find the spear. Find the spear
.

Ana heard her mother's voice echo in her head
.

Ela sat up, her room dark. “I will find the spear.”

I
know that you miss your parents. I feel selfish, stopping here first.” He and Ela sat shoulder to shoulder on a flat rock about a half mile from the keep's gate. They'd gotten lost, racing ahead of the others in their haste. Once they found the old road and stone columns up ahead in the distance, Os needed a moment to think. So far the fifty-acre parcel of land that he'd been gifted seemed uninhabited. Desolate.

“Os. This is your first home. We will send a letter with one of the knights to inform my parents that we are here. I know my mother, and she will be here within days. This is important.”

His gut twisted. He was as nervous as he'd been during his first battle. Logically, he knew that Thomas de Havel could have laid waste to the place on his way to France. Admittedly, it would be out of the way because the abandoned property was in the center of England, and there was not a
port to be found within a hundred miles. Still … he stared at the weed-covered road.

“He had every intention of coming back with his kidnapped prize. He would have had a place to keep me in.”

“How do you do that? It's as if you read my thoughts.”

“Your thoughts are plain to see, for those that know how to look.”

He put his hand on Ela's shoulder. “You can see my aura?”

“Nay.” She gestured to her forehead. “Whenever you worry, there is a wrinkle the size of a ditch right here.” He scrubbed at the spot.

“When you are striving to be calm, your jaw clenches and I can hear you grit your teeth.”

Os opened his mouth wide, and his jawbone cracked.

“When you are tense, I like to make love, because after that you are as pliable as bread dough.”

She'd caught him off guard again. “I am feeling tense …”

“Shall we go
home
and see what we can do about that?”

“Aye.” Os helped Ela to her horse. Bo bowed her neck gracefully and Ela laughed. “What other tricks will you teach her?”

“She's a smart mare. And I think Bartholomew is besotted with her. We will have to make sure that the stables are in good shape for the winter.” He said a quick prayer. “If there are stables.”

“You are worrying again.” Ela touched her forehead.

“Stop looking at me. I demand it,” he teased.

“Never! That would be taking away one of the things I like to do best.”