Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (12 page)

He sat on the bed, his arms
braced on either side of her slender body. He pulled the coverlet tighter.

“Did you catch a glimpse?” he
asked. “Anything at all? Perhaps a flash of clothing or a weapon?”

She thought a moment, licking her
colorless lips. “I… I thought I smelled something.”

“What?”

“Ale.” She looked at him, a
mixture of dread and anger on her face. “I smelt it earlier today, too.”

“Where?”

“You will not believe me.”

“Of course I will.”

“I smelled it on Lucius tonight
in the chapel.”

“Le Cor?” Kenneth was baffled.
“Are you sure?”

She nodded, weakly. “Positive. I
remember thinking that he smelt like old ale. And…”

“What?”

“I thought I heard him say
something, too.”

“What did you hear?”

She fell silent, reluctant to
tell him. When she spoke, he barely heard her

“I cannot be sure. But it sounded
like ‘whore’.”

Kenneth was having a difficult
time controlling his reaction. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye
and would have bolted into action had he not realized, almost too late, that it
was the little gray dog. The creature wagged its tail at him, and Kenneth
noticed something in the dog’s mouth. He reached down, pulling out a small
strip of wet black cloth.

Kenneth held up the cloth,
studying it. Aubrielle watched him curiously.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He sighed heavily, glancing down
at the pup. “Something your little friend has given me.”

“What do you mean?”

His jaw ticked as he studied the
cloth again. “I am not sure, but I intend to find out.”

He wadded the scrap into a closed
fist after that, refusing to let her see it. With his free hand, he inspected
the lump on her cheek to distract her.

“You’ve quite a lovely mark,” he
said. “A rare beauty indeed.”

Her fingers flitted over the
bruise self-consciously. “’Tis enormous.”

He smiled, letting her know it
wasn’t all that bad. “Not to worry, my lady. You are still the most beautiful
woman in all the land.”

A hint of a smile creased her
lips. “You are mad.”

“Not at all. I am quite sane.”

“But you should not say such
things.”

“Why not? ‘Tis the truth, with
God as my witness.”

Her pale pallor turned a soft
shade of pink. Kenneth was glad to see that she wasn’t so horribly injured that
she could not respond to his gentle humor. Still, he wondered what was keeping
the knights. He was particularly curious to see if Lucius would show. In fact,
he hoped he would.

Everett was the first to arrive.
His young face was full of curiosity when he entered, but quickly turned to
concern. The barber-surgeon arrived a few moments later. His name was Argus, a
dwarf of a man with thin gray hair and quick reflexes. He carried with him a
big box of implements and medicaments that resembled a carpenter’s toolbox. 
Reid followed behind him, carrying another box of mysterious supplies.

The little man knew Aubrielle
Grace di Witney. He’d been at Kirk for three generations. There wasn’t much he
didn’t know. He took one look at Aubrielle cast a long glance at Kenneth.

“So,” he said. “I see that she
finally pushed you over the edge.”

Kenneth lifted an eyebrow.
“Whatever injuries she has are not of my doing.”

The physic changed places with
Kenneth and hopped onto the bed beside Aubrielle. He peered at the lump on her
cheek.  He then proceeded to inspect the rest of her face, running his fingers
over her skull to see if there were any angry bumps.  As Kenneth and the
knights watched, the physic investigated her arms, fingers and shoulders. Then
he paused.

“You have a nice crack on the
cheek, m’lady,” he said. “It could have been worse. Where else do you hurt?”

“My stomach.”

Argus made the knights leave the
room so that he could examine her torso. The door to the chamber closed softly
behind the men and they congregated in the musty darkness of the third floor
corridor. Kenneth turned to the others.

“Where is the captain?”

Everett shook his head. “Asleep
in his room. I knocked, but he did not answer. He is probably still too drunk
to move.”

Kenneth digested the information.
“And Bradley has the night watch. He is been up on the battlements since
sundown.”

“Correct,” Everett said. “Ken,
what’s this about? What happened to her?”

Kenneth was again besieged by
anger. “Someone attacked Lady Aubrielle when she retired for the evening. You
saw her face, and I am deeply concerned about the injuries suffered to her
belly.”

“Jesus,” Everett breathed. “Who
would do such a thing?”

Kenneth didn’t voice his
suspicion right away. He held up the scrap of black material. “That little dog
that Lady Aubrielle took from the hall seems to have given us a clue.”

Everett and Reid peered closely
at the swatch. “Woolen material,” Everett fingered it. “Feels rough.”

“Does it feel familiar?”

Everett thought a moment. “Like
hose.” His features suddenly took on a suspicious countenance. “Like the kind
of hose we wear into battle to protect against the mail.”

Kenneth merely nodded, watching
realization dawn slowly in the faces of his men.  It was apparent by their
expressions that, to different degrees, they were beginning to follow the same
trail that Kenneth himself was already well set upon. It was an ominous
concept.

“Everett,” Kenneth put the
material in the knight’s palm. “Find Lucius. If his door is bolted, break it
down. See if he is missing a portion of his hose.”

“Captain le Cor?” Everett was
torn between shock and disbelief. “Do you really think…?”

“Lady Aubrielle said she that her
attacker smelled of alcohol. Stale ale were her exact words. Who does that
sound like?”

Reid hissed a curse and looked
away. They all knew the answer, but Everett spoke the obvious. “The captain. He
always smells like week old rot.”

Kenneth’s eyes were like ice.
“Find him. I shall be with you shortly.”

The knights were gone. Kenneth
stood there a moment, wondering what chaos was about to envelope Kirk. With the
earl gone and le Cor staging drunken attacks, he was determined not to see it
all unravel. This world meant too much to him. It was his duty to take control
and secure the safety of the earldom for all their sakes, especially Aubrielle’s.
She had endured what no one should have to, and he felt phenomenally guilty
that he had not been there to protect her.

 He took a moment to collect his
thoughts. He needed to settle himself and relax. Thoughts of revenge and murder
were new to him in the present context and it was imperative that he control
himself. When the physic finally opened the door the chamber once more, he
found a very calm knight leaning casually against the corridor wall. The old man
waved him in.

“Come, come,” he motioned. 
“Close the door so the draft does not get in.”

Kenneth followed him into the
room. The toothless servant had built the fire into a nice blaze, and the room
was almost too warm. Aubrielle lay upon the bed with a large bandage on her
left cheek.

The little gray dog lay
peacefully by her head, like a sentinel.  His head came up, ears perked, when
he saw Kenneth. But just as quickly, he lay back down again as if satisfied the
knight meant his lady no harm.

“What is your diagnosis?”
Kenneth’s gaze lingered on her.

The little physic went to the
bed, grasping Aubrielle’s wrist to take her pulse one last time.  “The heart
can tell us great deal about a person’s health,” he said. A few seconds was all
he needed and he set her hand back down. Then he looked at Kenneth. “Oh, she
took a fine beating, no doubt. No doubt at all.”

“And?”

       “And she’ll need some time
to recover, but I do not believe there is any permanent damage. She has a
beauty of a bruise on her belly.”

“But nothing serious?”

“Not that I can tell. Mind she
doesn’t strain herself, though. She must rest for a few days.”

Aubrielle suddenly came alive.
“But I cannot rest a few days,” she insisted. “We are leaving for Glastonbury
on the morrow.”

“Pah!” the physic spat. “You’ll
be making no trips for some time, m’lady. You could do serious harm frisking
about on the open road. Your injured belly might rip open and spout bright red
guts all over the dusty trail.”

He had said it so dramatically
that Kenneth struggled not to smile. The look on Aubrielle’s face was
priceless; she turned positively red. Kenneth could sense the storm coming and
hastened to remove the cause in the hope that it would blow over.

“As long as there is no serious
damage, I am sure the lady will do all she can to regain her full strength,” he
said. “A good night’s sleep will do wonders.”

The physic gathered his two
boxes, handing one to the toothless wench hovering near the hearth. “I shall be
back tomorrow to check on the lady.”

“Very well.”

“Mind she doesn’t get out of that
bed.”

“She will not.”

Kenneth walked the old man to the
door. Aubrielle heard it close softly. She was exhausted, in pain, but all she
could think about was the fact that she would not be leaving for Glastonbury
tomorrow. It was an agonizing disappointment; damn her aching cheek and gut. It
would seem that whenever she came close to achieving her dream, something
always prevented it. She was coming to think that perhaps she was never meant
to go.

“Go to sleep, my lady,” Kenneth
was still in the room. “I shall stand watch this night, have no fear.”

He’d been so silent that she had
assumed he walked out with the physic. Aubrielle’s sea-colored eyes found him
in the dimness of the room.

“If you are here, then I most
certainly will have no fear,” she said quietly. “I thank you for your courtesy,
sir knight. Your comfort has been invaluable.”

He dragged the chair up to the
bed and sat. “’Tis no courtesy, my lady. You are my betrothed, after all. ‘Tis
my duty to protect you.”

Somehow that wasn’t the answer
she had wanted. As it was earlier in the evening, Aubrielle was behaving as if
there was something more than mere obligation between them. She was feeling
untamed emotions and struggling not to.

“Of course,” she muttered. “’Tis
your duty.”

Kenneth heard it in her voice.
There was a longing. It terrified him and pleased him at the same time.

“Aye, a duty and a pleasure,” he
said quietly. “I am truly sorry that I was not here to protect you against this
brutal assault.”

“It was not your fault.”

“But I should have escorted you
to your chamber. I should have made sure you were safe before leaving you.”

“The attack happened inside my
chamber, sir knight. You would not have come inside my chamber and escorted me
directly into my bed. There was nothing you could have done.”

He sat there a moment in thought.
Aubrielle watched his handsome face in the firelight, the edgy ticking of his
jaw. She sensed that there were heavy matters on his mind.

“May I ask you something?” she
asked.

He looked at her. “Anything.”

“Are you comfortable with this
betrothal? If you’ve had time to think the matter through and have decided
against it…”

“What would lead you to believe
that?”

“Nothing in particular. But we
must face facts; we hardly know one another. What we do know of each other has
been, well, violent at times. I am not the easiest person to get along with.
Everything happened so quickly yesterday that if you’ve changed your mind, I
would understand.”

He just sat there and looked at
her, his elbow against the arm of the chair and his chin in his hand.

‘Have you changed your mind, my
lady?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am sure.”

He un-propped his chin and sat
forward. “Then I shall have you know that never, at any time, have I questioned
my decision. I am looking forward to this marriage.”

It was a sweet thing to say. Aubrielle
couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “You are?”

“Of course. I shall have the most
beautiful wife in the whole of England and all men will envy me my good
fortune. How could I not look forward to it?”

“But what about the earldom?”

“I could not care less about
that. You are the prize.”

She had the most wonderful, giddy
feeling. But her smile faded. “If that is true, why do you ignore me whenever
we are in public? It seems to me that you are ashamed somehow.”