Secret Heart (9 page)

Nozay was even more secluded than Roarke and
Garit had promised. The manor lay at the end of an ill-defined road
that wound for miles though an uninhabited wilderness. The area was
so thickly overgrown with trees and underbrush that they were
forced to ride in single file.

As they
progressed a thick fog rose from the ground until all Jenia could
see was the silhouettes of the closest trees on either side of the
path and the gravel beneath her horse’s hooves. She could hear
Roarke’s horse ahead of her and Garit’s behind, but she could
barely make out their figures through the mysterious
gloom.

Then, suddenly, the fog drifted away, the sun
came out, and they were in a wide, open area. Jenia guessed the
space had been cleared at some time in the distant past, leaving no
cover to conceal would-be attackers, in much the same way as
castles always sat on open ground. She looked around and was
pleasantly surprised at what she beheld.

The setting sun shone golden upon one of the
apple orchards so common to the southern Plain of Ishi. The apple
trees were planted a safe distance away from a high stone wall that
encircled and protected the manor house and its outbuildings.

As they approached the open gate, Jenia
caught her first glimpse of the manor. The house itself was low and
rambling, constructed of the same creamy stone as the surrounding
wall. To her weary gaze the complex of buildings appeared neat and
well cared for, a safe haven far from the places where men plotted
murder and thievery.

They were stopped at the gate for only a
moment before the alert man-at-arms on duty there recognized Roarke
and Garit and invited them to enter.

“
Lord
Giles will be glad to see you again,” the man said with a smile. He
sent a young lad running to inform the lord of the manor that he
had visitors and then handed the guests over to two grooms who
hurried forward to take the horses. A few squires and older men
paused in the outer courtyard to look at the new arrivals and some
of them called out greetings.

Jenia
fell off Roarke’s mount and into Garit’s arms, where she rested for
a time. She needed steadying, for she hadn’t been on a horse for
more than half a year and her back and thighs were protesting the
unaccustomed exercise.

Meanwhile, Roarke, having dismounted
immediately after Jenia and having cast what looked to her like an
irritated glance at Garit holding her close, strode ahead of his
companions and through a heavy wooden door into the main house.

“
Take my
arm, my lady,” Garit offered, finally releasing her from his grasp.
“I can see that you are worn out after so long a ride.”

By the
time Jenia and Garit caught up with Roarke in the large hall of the
manor, he was being embraced by a tall, white-haired man whose
lined face exhibited several scars which Jenia guessed were the
relics of past battles. To Jenia’s bemusement Roarke was returning
the older man’s embrace with a ready smile and a hearty laugh that
was most unlike the Roarke she knew.

“
Here is
Lord Giles,” Garit said, leading Jenia to join the pair. “He’s the
best master any squire ever served.”

Roarke
turned at Garit’s words. His smile faded and his laughter ended as
soon as he saw Jenia’s hand on Garit’s arm.

Lord
Giles stared at her, his eyes going wide as he took in her woolen
peasant’s gown and plain linen headscarf. His gaze lingered on her
face for a long moment before he blinked and turned to Garit. In
that moment Jenia recognized him as a man who could work magic, but
who held his ability under strict control.

“
My dear
boy, how glad I am to see you’ve found her at last,” Lord Giles
said to Garit. “You are welcome here, as always, and so is your
lady.”

“
I am not
Lady Chantal,” Jenia hastened to correct him. She spoke too loudly
because, just for a moment, she longed to receive the welcome due
to her true rank and to accept that welcome with the grace and good
manners she had been taught at a young age. She was aware of
Roarke’s frown and it pained her to watch her host’s smile falter
at her rude words. She attempted to explain herself to him, though
she was finding it more and more difficult to keep her many lies
properly ordered in her mind. “At least, I don’t think I’m Lady
Chantal. I am not certain, you see.”

Lord
Giles’ expression told her that he did not see at all, but she
sensed that he wasn’t going to probe her mind to uncover the truth
about her until she was willing. Jenia was unable to invent another
story on the spur of the moment that would not conflict with what
she had already told Roarke and Garit. She was so embarrassed by
her failure that she actually felt gratitude for Roarke’s sarcastic
intervention.

“
The lady
calls herself Jenia, and claims she has lost the memory of her
former life,” Roarke explained.

“
I
suppose that means you will all have an interesting tale to recount
in private later, after we have eaten,” Lord Giles said. A smile
softened his face, making him appear much younger and bringing a
sparkle of good humor to his eyes. “Be warned, dear lads and my
lady; I expect to be well entertained in return for the hospitality
I offer.”

The words contained an invitation rather than
a threat, and Jenia relaxed a little. She was given one of the two
available guest chambers for her own use, with Roarke and Garit
sharing the second room. A young boy brought hot water so she could
wash. Since she had no other clothes to change into, her
preparations for the meal did not take long. She returned to the
hall before either Roarke or Garit arrived there.

She found Lord Giles clad in a long blue
robe, sitting on a bench pulled close to the fire. Squires and
men-at-arms crowded the room, but they politely made way for her
and Lord Giles saw her at once. His welcoming smile made her think
that he had been waiting just for her.

“
Will you
join me, my lady?” he asked, rising to take the hand she offered.
“The heat will not be unpleasant for you? Even in late summer the
evenings can be chilly, and I find the fire eases the aches in my
aging bones.”

“
Thank
you, my lord.” She sat at one end of the bench, allowing him the
end closer to the flames. With a nod that acknowledged her
thoughtful gesture, he resumed his seat.

“
Are you
annoyed to be compared to Lady Chantal?” he asked at once. “Don’t
be. It’s a compliment, you know. She is a delightful and charming
creature. Garit is deeply in love with her.”

“
So I
understand,” Jenia murmured, looking into the fire and not at Lord
Giles. She was growing weary of so many lies and she especially
hated lying to this man, whom she had liked at first
sight.

“
I trust
you are careful of Garit’s feelings,” Lord Giles said. “He has
always been an open-hearted young man. But if his heart were to be
broken and his affections were to be cruelly rejected, I fear he’d
close in on himself and become a cold and distant man.”

“
Like
Roarke?” she asked.

“
Ah. So
that’s it. I wondered.”

The man beside her made an abrupt movement
with one hand and Jenia looked away from the fire and into his
eyes. They were pale blue, kind, and very wise. Too wise for her
comfort and too compelling for her to look away.

“
Roarke
has good reason to be as reserved and distrustful as he is,” Lord
Giles said. “The last few years have not been easy for
him.”

“
I know
nothing about his life,” Jenia responded. “He doesn’t talk about
himself. He’s much too busy interrogating me. Roarke doesn’t like
me. He doesn’t trust me. And he doesn’t believe that I cannot
remember who I am.”

“
Now, I
wonder why that should be,” Lord Giles said quietly, his mild blue
gaze still locked with hers.

Jenia
experienced a most dangerous desire to tell him everything and ask
his advice. She had scarcely known her late father, who had been a
fierce and dedicated warrior, a man frighteningly distant toward
his daughter on the rare occasions when he was at home. A warrior
preferred sons whom he could mold in his own image. Daughters were
not wanted or appreciated. Whether a daughter married or retreated
to a beguinage, she required a dowry and that meant depleting a
nobleman’s wealth.

But she’d
been blessed with a loving grandfather very different in character
from her sire, a battered and scarred old knight who had taken her
up on his knee when she was little and told her romantic stories of
great lords and beautiful ladies, of powerful mages, and the
occasional fire-breathing dragon. On clear evenings Grandfather
would take her hand and walk around the castle battlements with her
as they watched the sun set and the stars come out. Lord Giles
reminded her of her grandfather, which was not at all surprising,
since he had been a mage, too.

Jenia’s
eyes suddenly misted as she fought the impulse to lean toward her
host and rest her head on his shoulder while she unburdened her
heart to him. The longing to feel his sinewy arm around her was
nearly as overpowering as her desire to reveal all of her
secrets.

Knowing that giving in to the urge might well
cost her life before she even reached Calean City and, therefore,
prevent her from completing her quest, she tightened her mouth and
drew her lips into a hard line. Then she squared her shoulders and
sat straighter on the bench, resisting the gentle Power he was
exerting on her. But she could not bring herself to stand up and
move away from him.

Before
either of them could say anything more Roarke and Garit came into
the hall and the oddly intimate moment was gone. But the remarks
that Lord Giles had made about Roarke’s recent life having provided
good cause for his cold and distant attitude made Jenia look at him
with renewed interest. He hadn’t been reserved with her when they’d
shared a bed at the inn. She had seen humor in him then, and
kindness, and even a brief tenderness. She remembered the way he
had listened to her story of near rape and murder, how he had
understood her determination to get away from her attackers. She
marveled at his patience with her when she knew he suspected her of
not telling the entire truth.

Lord Giles offered his arm to escort her to
the table and she set aside her ruminations in favor of behaving as
politely as an honored guest ought to do.

The
entire company – Lord Giles and his guests, his men-at-arms,
squires, even the servants at the lower table – all ate well,
consuming a dozen or so hot pies filled with several kinds of game
birds, followed by a roasted side of beef, fresh bread, cakes, and
two large almond custards, all washed down with ale and red
wine.

Faced with such a feast, Jenia forgot the
caution about eating too much that Roarke had urged upon her on the
previous day and gave in to her hunger. Tired though she was after
a long day of travel, she felt remarkably well-recovered from her
ordeal on shipboard and at sea.

During
the meal the conversation was pleasant and general, with no one
remarking on the sudden appearance of three unexpected guests and
no one asking prying questions. Roarke, who was seated next to
Jenia, seemed a bit more relaxed than usual. Perhaps it was an
effect of Lord Giles’ presence. Jenia decided to take advantage of
Roarke’s good mood.

“
I
noticed you are acquainted with several of the men-at-arms,” she
said. “When you came to the hall, I saw them greeting you as an old
friend.”

“
I lived
at Nozay for seven years and I still stop here whenever I come this
way,” he told her. “I know I’ll find a good meal and a clean
bed.”

“
I can
see how fond you are of Lord Giles,” she said, hoping to draw him
out to reveal something about his own life. She wanted to know
everything about Roarke: his childhood, his parents, his youth and
early manhood, and particularly the difficult recent past that Lord
Giles had mentioned. She told herself she was so intensely
interested because she was going to have to depend on him when they
reached Calean City. But she couldn’t fool herself for long. She
wanted to know Roarke better because the contradictions she saw in
him piqued her curiosity. Even his apparent coldness and frequent
sarcasm intrigued her, especially after she’d seen him drop his
reserve to embrace his old friend with undisguised
warmth.

“
Lord
Giles is not a great lord as most men reckon such things,” Roarke
said, glancing at the white-haired man on Jenia’s other side, who
was taking to Garit. “He doesn’t hold a great title or much land.
But he’s known as an honest man, and in his day he was a renowned
warrior. Now he is famous for the way he trains his squires. A boy
who is prepared for knighthood by Lord Giles will be superbly
taught in the uses of every available weapon, not just sword and
lance. What’s more, the squires whom he trains must also learn to
think for themselves, and to read and write.”

“
You must
be joking,” Jenia exclaimed. “I thought all knights considered
scholarly accomplishments unworthy of a fighting man’s attention,
subjects fit only for mages and women,” she finished with a
bitterness worthy of Roarke at his most sarcastic.

“
Most
nobles, and many more simple knights than nobles, would agree with
you,” Roarke said. “But those who spend their seven years as
squires here at Nozay in the care of Lord Giles will have learned
how important scholarly pursuits are to their ability to think
logically – and how important clear thinking is to fighting
skills.”