Ruth A. Casie (12 page)

The courtyard was a flurry of activity with horses and men everywhere.

“John, do you have any idea what’s happening?” Lisbeth asked.

“Lord Alex makes ready to lead the troop on patrol, m’lady. He’s gathering the last of the farmers and bringing them to the castle grounds.”

“We’ll see to the farms at the far border first.” She heard Alex give his commands. “We’ll work our way back from there. I want to visit every house and farm. I want everyone brought here. No one is to be left behind.” His voice dropped with a warning tone. “Keep alert and stay close.”

Alex nudged Prime over to where she stood. “Ann told me you and John went to the lodge to see your sister. I hope you enjoyed your visit?”

“Yes. There’s been much too much time between visits.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Family is important.” He shifted in his saddle but hesitated. He gave her a pensive look. “I’ve given orders no one is to go off the castle grounds while I’m gone. No one.”

The experience of the trek back to the castle was fresh in her mind. Intellectually she understood his demand, but that didn’t prevent her hackles from rising in objection. When she turned to leave, she was startled. She didn’t want to take her eyes off him. She imagined the heat of his body next to hers, and her face flushed from the thought.

A quick glance at him and she saw his face light with a smile that took her breath away. Did he have any idea the power of his smile? She looked at the set of his shoulders. Yes, she was certain he did. She focused on his lips and rolled her fingers into a fist to stop from reaching out to touch them.

He bent down close to her.

She felt the panic explode. She steeled herself and with great difficulty did not step back, instead holding her place.

“Are you well? Your face has taken on a rosy color. Are you feverish? There’s no need to worry. Robby’s in command of the men.” He righted himself in his saddle. “You will be safe.” He gave his men the order to proceed.

They stood watch as the troop rode out the gate. When the last riders passed, Alex turned to her and saluted. His face was serious. His eyes were filled with pride. Perhaps he rode out like the other protectors, doomed not to return. She frowned at the unpleasant thought. She gave him a curt nod of farewell.

He turned Prime and joined his men. Lisbeth ran to the castle wall and up the steps to the gallery. The troop came into view as they crossed the field. Alex rode to the front to the shouts of his men and took his place at the head of the column. She stayed on the wall until the last man vanished into the forest on the other side of the field.

The excitement over, she returned to the castle, wondering when he would return. Before she went to the market, she climbed the stairs and went on to her room to set down the things her sister had given her, but her mind was on Alex. No, she would be very upset if he didn’t return. Her admission didn’t surprise her.

The stones Laura had given her rattled in her pouch. She took them out and put them on her chest next to her mother’s diary. The soft leather invited her touch, and she obliged it. Her fingers stroked the embossed initials—
DR
. She remembered her father gifting it to her mother when he returned from a London trip. He brought gifts for everyone. She wondered who enjoyed the excitement of his small gifts more, her father or his intended recipient.

“
Beth
,
let me see those stones you carry
,”
her father demanded.

Surprised by his request
,
she opened the makeshift bag.
It was no more than a square of cloth with its four corners knotted together.
She handed it to him.

“
If you insist on carrying your most treasured stones
,
you should have something worthy to carry them in.
This will keep your treasures safe.
”

How his eyes had twinkled when he handed her his gift
.

She touched her leather pouch. “Father,” she whispered. She looked at the diary. Laura was right. Leave the book alone. What would she gain? She started for the door but hesitated. Just one look was all she wanted; one more time to be close to Mother, even if it was only her words.

She picked up the book and sat on the chair by the window to catch the sunlight. She carefully opened the diary and sucked in her breath when she saw the first swirl of her mother’s distinctive handwriting. Her hand ran slowly down the page. Contentment spread through her. She went on. The pages fanned when she opened the book fully and finally settled on one somewhere at the beginning of the book.

The page was spotted and soiled from much use. It was the recipe for lavender soap. She turned to another entry.

Wesley came home from court today. I didn’t expect him for another six weeks. He still makes my heart leap. The children were already asleep when he arrived. They will be so surprised in the morning. He is in the Great Hall hearing his captain report. I stood there as long as I could. I know it was devilish but I whispered in his ear exactly what I wanted him to do to me this night. I thought he would choke on his ale. My knight, my love, my heart. I must go, he comes.

Lisbeth remembered that morning. She and Laura had come down into the Great Hall arguing about something and stopped when they saw him at the table. Her heart pounded with the memory. She shook the recollection away, came back to the present, and turned the pages.

Lisbeth told me of her visions. They are almost fully upon her. I dare not wait too much longer but I do not want to burden her, not yet. She is so young.

Lisbeth stared at the words and reread them to make certain they were there. She was too startled by the message they carried to move on.

How can someone so young be expected to bear such a burden? Knowing the future is as much a curse as a blessing.

Lisbeth looked at the next entry. But there was no further mention of the visions. She quickly scanned the next pages, turning them faster and faster. Her mind clouded with a crazy mixture of hope and fear.

I failed her. I should have said something but I didn’t. I’ve started ten times for the door to wake her and tell her. Perhaps it would be better if I let her believe them to be dreams. If she would just order them to stop, but I don’t know if she has the strength.

Her heart skipped a beat. She looked at the page and read it over. A flash of excitement rushed through her.
The visions can be controlled.
“At last,” she said to the empty room and sat back, the book to her chest. “At last.”

She placed the book next to the polished stones. If she could control the visions, she need not have another one. She would be safe and so would everyone around her.
Wait
. Before she let things get out of hand, she would need to make certain it worked.
It will work.
It must work.

* * *

The usually crowded market was choked with activity, a by-product of the farmers and their families moving to the castle. Lisbeth picked her way through the crowd, overhearing snippets of conversations as she went from stall to stall.

“Perhaps he won’t come back. This one has certainly lasted longer than the others.”

“Perhaps. He’s not been so bad. At least he removed the border families to the castle grounds.”

“Yes, off our farms. Who’s going to take care of them if we’re all here? Who? And what will be left when we go back? The ground gone to seed, our houses sacked and burned. No I tell you, we should stay and protect our farms.”

“You’re a potter. What do you know of the fears we farmers face or how Lord Alex has protected us? His men helped to finish the harvest before we left.”

“For himself I say. The harvest is in his granary. He’s even set guards around it so you can’t take what you need. What are you and your family going to eat when the food runs out?”

The men continued on their way.

“M’lady, m’lady.”

The warm aroma of fresh bread beckoned Lisbeth to the baker’s stall.

“It’s good to see you. Can I help you?”

“The air around your stall makes my mouth water.” She hoped the baker couldn’t hear her rumbling stomach. She searched for her pouch and finally fished out a coin. She tore a corner from the crusty roll and slowly savored it. “Hmmm, even better than I imagined.” She motioned to the two men who passed. “If only those two could get along.”

“Lord Alex’s potter has been outspoken and jumps to conclusions. He’s always on the opposite side of any discussion. They’re both good men, m’lady. They like to argue. You would never know they’ve become good friends. Sometimes I think there are two different villages, theirs and ours.”

“Lord Alex and his men are not like the others the king has sent?”

“No, m’lady. They’re much like our men. They’re fair and honest. They pay for what they take. Not like the others who took what they wanted and paid for nothing.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “No, m’lady, your father would approve of Lord Alex. He’s your father’s type of man.” He turned to his next customer.

She caught other pieces of conversations and observed people on her way back to the castle. Her pace slowed when she reached the steps. She turned and looked toward the village.
Not like the others.
Was he different? What would he do if he knew about her visions? Once he found out her secret, she’d be lucky if all he did was commit her to the dungeon. She climbed the steps and entered her solar.

She gathered her needlework and made herself comfortable by the sunlit window. In and out, the needle glided. She added fine small stitches to the last of the repairs to the tapestry and smoothed them with her forefinger. The forest scene she stitched looked vibrant. She looked up at the gray walls and held the needle poised in the air. Laura was right. The villagers weren’t afraid of her. They weren’t fearful of Alex or his men.

Her sister’s words echoed in her ears. Dare she move on? Dare she hope? Were her other fears just as empty? Her eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, now drab and cold even with the fire in the hearth. She looked from one wall to another. It was time to complete the renovation with the rich tapestries, the armor and plate.

With the castle renovated, she would move on and so would everyone else. She went to the kitchen.

“Ann, gather everyone. I’ve finished the repairs on the tapestries.”

“And we’ve finished polishing the plate, and found material for the banners.”

“Good, then let’s put everything in place.”

Chapter Eleven

“But he gave very clear orders, m’lady.” John shifted from foot to foot, his nervousness apparent.

“John, I must go. I told Laura I would meet her today at the lodge. I have this nagging feeling that something is not right.”

Visions of Richard’s impending disaster and her parent’s accident swirled in her head. She steeled herself to keep from pushing John out of her way. She wouldn’t sit still if there was any chance Laura was in danger. She closed her eyes. Everyone else she loved had left her; she wouldn’t let Laura go without a fight.

“She may not even be there, John. But I must make certain. If there’s any danger I must warn her.”

“M’lady, Lord Alex gave orders. No one is to leave the castle while he’s away.”

She knew the man wouldn’t budge. “Very well, John.” She grabbed her shawl. “This is outrageous,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry, m’lady—did you say something?”

“No, I was...thinking out loud.” She hurried on.
Surely Alex will understand.
The lodge is practically at our doorstep.
A turn in the garden usually soothed her but not today. She sat on the garden bench. Her thoughts raced from one catastrophe to another. If anything, Alex’s high-handed manner provoked her more. She didn’t realize the mist was building until there was a small pool by the bench. She stilled and the vision materialized. Her nerves already being on edge, made the vision more vivid. Scenes shifted from one to another in rapid succession. A shadowy figure, she couldn’t see who, was at the lodge huddled at the table. A hand and knife appeared. “Laura.” She jumped up from the bench. “She said she would bring the children.” She left through the garden gate, crossed the bailey, and headed into the village.

“I’ve a fresh loaf of bread here, m’lady, hot out of the oven. On a cool day like today, the hot bread can keep your hands warm while you visit the other stalls.”

The baker startled her. Her eyes were on Alex’s soldiers who stood by the road and blocked her way. “Very well, one loaf please,” she said without really paying attention.

The baker stretched his neck to see what she was looking at. “Are you looking for someone, m’lady? My boy can find them for you.”

She brought herself back into the moment. “No, that won’t be necessary. I think Laura may come to visit, and I didn’t want to miss her.”

“If I see her I’ll tell her you were looking for her.” He turned to the next customer. “Yes, what would you like?”

“Who are you looking for, Lisbeth?” a familiar voice said behind her.

Surprised, she turned and faced Bryce.

He took the package, slipped her arm through his, and escorted her along.

They continued on through the village. The weak sun gave off little warmth. The wind picked up and sent her cloak billowing out. She wrapped it tightly around her.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked her again.

“Laura and the children were coming today. Perhaps they’re already at the lodge,” she answered, still looking at the forest trail.

“Well, I hope you find her.” He gave her back her package. “I’ll leave you here to your marketing.” He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed it with a kiss. A tilt of his head that could have been perceived as a courtly nod and he was gone.

She watched a steady stream of people trickle down the forest path. They were the last of the border farmers and were headed toward the castle. The soldiers moved off the road to help a wagon that was mired in soft ground. She took advantage of the diversion. Staying as inconspicuous as possible she moved up the trail, a salmon going upstream, and veered onto the secluded path to the lodge.

* * *

Alex, his men and the rest of his farmers swarmed down the road toward the castle. Gareth and Wesley’s men were positioned in front with Alex and his men in back. “Lord Alex, where do you want to house these people?”

“Those with family in the village can stay with them. Make certain they have enough food. There may still be room at other houses. Perhaps Lady Lisbeth can help us—she knows the people better. I’m thankful there aren’t too many stragglers. Put the men to work at the pen. We need to make more room for the additional stock.”

The whispers began at the front of the line and quickly reached Alex’s ears. Banners. Was someone attacking his castle in his absence? He raced to where Gareth and the others waited.

The sun caught the sandstone walls of the castle and turned them a rosy pink. But the sun didn’t cause the excitement. Glen Kirk castle flew standards at every point.

He turned to Gareth. “Whose standards fly on our turrets?”

“M’lord, they’re gold and magenta. I assume they’re yours.”

“I’ve never seen them,” he said under his breath. The silks waved gently in the cool breeze and added to the grace of the castle.

“It was a day like this when I put Lord and Lady Reynolds to rest. Their gold-and-black standards were at half-mast.”

“It was a terrible tragedy. I heard about their accident while I was in Wales.”

“I should have stayed with them and sent someone else. If I had they would still be alive today. If I had only been with them.”

Alex remained quiet and let him speak.

“We were in Scotland visiting Laura and Jamie. My lieutenant, Ralf, came from Glen Kirk to tell us of an attack on one of our border farms. Lord Wesley dispatched me and a few men to bring back a report. He and the women would leave as soon as they were packed. We put Ralf in charge of escorting the family home.” Gareth’s voice cracked with emotion.

Alex patiently waited. Many soldiers had regrets over actions they had taken. They clung to a man. He knew it was best to not hold those thoughts close.

The old soldier let out a deep sigh. “My patrol returned to the bailey as Wesley’s rider raced in with the news. We mounted up and rode out. When we arrived all that needed to be done was take care of Lady Lisbeth.” Gareth turned to Alex, a pained expression on his face. “I never gave Lord Wesley my report.”

“Very well, Gareth,” Alex said softly. “Report.”

Gareth looked at Alex with appreciation in his eyes. He straightened and saluted. “M’lord, there was no attack. When we reached the farm the man had no idea what we were talking about. We checked the other farms in the area, but they too knew nothing about an attack.”

“What of Ralf? Did you question him?”

“We couldn’t, m’lord. He was driving the carriage. He was crushed beneath it when it tumbled down the gorge.

“You think the attack was a fabrication?”

Gareth’s body roiled with tension. “Yes, a fabrication, and the accident contrived I’m certain. When we left Jamie and Laura, the trail was clear. We rushed to the accident. By the time we got to the carriage Jamie was already there and had things in order.”

“You were close to Wesley.” Alex put his hand on his shoulder.

Gareth smiled sadly. “Yes, m’lord—since childhood.”

“The castle went into mourning,” Alex said in solemn voice.

“We were indeed in mourning but everyone worried about Lisbeth. She wasn’t the same.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Jamie and I dug the graves. Laura and Lisbeth stood by in silence.” Gareth sighed.

Alex read the agony on the man’s face.

Gareth continued in a hushed voice. “She stayed with Laura and Jamie. She was badly battered and bruised. When she finally came home no one could get her to talk.”

Alex remembered how he had mourned Wesley’s death. It must have been torture for Lisbeth.

“She rallied when the first of the king’s protectors arrived, but when he started to sell off the wares, Lisbeth packed up everything and put it in storage.”

“Yes, Jamie told me.”

“She’s been remote ever since.”

“Thank you for your report.”

“Sir,” he saluted slowly. Gareth inclined his head and slipped in with the troop.

Anger shot through Alex. He could see how some of the king’s men would take advantage. Not everyone was principled. Alex advanced the column forward.

They emerged from the forest and trekked up the road. One by one the wagons and families peeled off. Most would stay with relatives. The few that remained quickly found accommodations. The livestock was herded to the pen. Alex, Robby and Gareth continued on to the castle.

Alex entered the foyer and stopped. His gaze darted around the room alighting on one thing, then another. The magnificence struck him. The stone walls glistened clean and fresh. The aroma of lavender and spice filled the air. He entered the Great Hall. Each wall was adorned with a large silk tapestry. Some depicted armies and others gardens. They were filled with color and warmth. The sideboard, dressed in linens, proudly displayed the silver plate. The hearth was clean, the fire warm and welcoming. He turned to Gareth.

“This is reminiscent of the castle when Lord and Lady Reynolds were in residence.”

Alex thought the man soaked up the atmosphere. Some of the twinkle was back in Gareth’s eyes. How wrong he had been to think of Glen Kirk only as old stones. Lisbeth’s touch was everywhere. Any man would be proud to be lord of this castle. Glen Kirk was worth defending, not for the king, but for Lisbeth. He had to tell her everything. He ran his hand through his hair. Where to begin? By telling her she was his wife.

Ann rushed through the hall with filled tankards for Alex and his captains.

“Have Lady Lisbeth join me in the Great Hall,” Alex instructed his page.

Peter ran off, coming back a few minutes later.

“M’lord, Lady Lisbeth isn’t on the grounds, and she’s not answering her door.”

“Ann.” He stopped the housekeeper. “Where’s Lady Lisbeth?”

“M’lord, she’s been working night and day to get things in order before your return. I noticed her on the steps. I think she’s resting in her room. I’ll go fetch her.”

“No, let her rest. The morning is soon enough.” He didn’t have the heart to disturb her. Tomorrow. He would talk with her tomorrow.

* * *

Lisbeth avoided Alex and his troop on the road. She knew the forest and stayed well out of sight. She spotted the smudge of smoke from the lodge chimney and relaxed. Laura was there and she was safe. She ran up the path, threw the door open, and stopped.

“Bryce. What are you doing here?”

Bryce stood at the hearth, his back to the door, a tankard of ale in his hand. He froze at the sound of her voice. The tankard was halfway to his mouth. He straightened with apparent difficulty and turned to face her. He fumbled the tankard and sent its contents splashing into the smoldering fire. The resulting aroma of the hissing mist was a combination of wood and rich ale. His eyes swept up her body from her hem to her hair.

Her eyes were fixed on the red stain spreading across his white linen shirt, then flashed to his face.

Turning set him off balance. His legs buckled and he fell sending blood splattering over the floor.

“Bryce.” She dropped what she was holding and ran to him. She tore his shirt open and searched the wound. There were telltale signs of bark and moss. He began to move. “Bryce,” she said softly. “What happened?”

“I was going back to Ravencroft. My horse stumbled. The beast threw me and I landed on a downed log. One of its broken branches jabbed me like a lance.” He winced in pain. “The lodge was close. I came here thinking I could find something for the wound. All I found was your father’s ale.”

“I’ll help you.” She got up and removed her cloak.

“No.”

She stopped mid-step and searched his face.

“I don’t need your help. I just need some bandages to stop the bleeding and I’ll be off.

“Bryce, I need to see the depth of the wound. I can see it needs to be cleaned.”

He took a deep breath and stood up on wobbly legs. She lent him her shoulder. Two steps were all he could take before he started panting.

“Let me help you to the bed in the other room. You can rest and leave for Ravencroft when you’re able.”

Lisbeth couldn’t help but see the look of indecision written on his face. She would give him time to think it through. He didn’t have many alternatives.

Bryce looked to the bedroom and nodded.

She helped him shuffle into the other room and eased him onto the bed. He tugged at his cloak to get it off, causing the clasp to pop and fly into the folds of the covers. He stretched out on the bed. Once he was settled and as comfortable as she could make him, Lisbeth went about and gathered what she could, then returned to his side. She bent over and examined the wound carefully.
Zhure nas sheer naf durzh.
The ancient healing song filled her head.

Bryce kept moving under her touch.

“Just one more minute. I must make certain it’s clean.” She saw fear, stark and vivid, in his eyes. “The wound’s not deep. It may not even leave a scar.” Once she was satisfied the wound was clean she applied a bandage. Tired and achy, she straightened and let out a sigh of relief.

“I need only rest for a few minutes, then I will leave.” His eyes closed as he spoke.

She let him rest. The stress of the day caught up with her. She was relieved that Laura hadn’t come. Now every fiber of her body told her to go back to the castle. But she couldn’t leave Bryce in his condition. She dropped into the chair in the other room and put her head on the table. The nagging at the back of her mind refused to be still.

Hours passed and Bryce slept. She on the other hand got no rest. She stood at the lodge door and stared at the horizon with tired eyes. Pink streaks ran across the brightening sky. Why had she come here? Ah, to make certain Laura was safe. She should have known better. Jamie wouldn’t let her come if there was danger about.

She grabbed the water pitcher from the table, her cloak from the peg, and stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her. She wandered to the orchard in back of the lodge and picked one of the last apples off the tree. She brought the fruit to her lips and took a bite. The juice from the fruit splashed out of her mouth and trickled down her chin. Surprised, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

The sound of stomping hooves coming from the barn broke the silence. But the vision? Could it have been Bryce? She looked toward the lodge. It must have been. Bryce’s horse whinnied. She hadn’t given much thought to the animal. At least he’d found his way to the barn. Hopefully an extra ration of oats and an apple would make up for the horse spending the night in its tack. She picked up an apple from the ground and traipsed to the barn.