Warriors Of Legend (57 page)

The castle sat on a rocky foundation, its mass looming and formidable in the clear blue sky.

Gavin slowed his horse, taking in the beauty of the snow capped towers, his heraldic flags flapping in the wind. It never ceased to amaze him that this was his home. He who came from humble beginnings and was the son of a minor knight.

He could see the guards walking along the battlements, scanning the rocky landscape for possible enemy invasion. This was what he commanded his men to do, to always be ready for attacks. Not that he anticipated any raids since it was peaceful times. Yet it never hurt to be prepared. That was the one thing that he learned in his long years in the battlefield. The ones who thought ahead, the ones who could out think the enemies were the ones that survived.

This preparedness served him well and which was the reason that King Edward gifted him with this fiefdom. He discovered that he liked the domestic challenges that his estate gave him, and the dramas of war interested him less and less. However this didn’t mean that he was lax in training his garrison. If ever the king needed his military strength, he and his men were ready.

Gavin urged his horse forward, now eager to enter the stone fortress.

The one thing that marred his contentedness was the memory of what the robbers had done to Rose’s mother. His thoughts took a dark turn, and he cursed every single outlaw that preyed on the weak. Had Estella not been with him, he would have killed those men who accosted him on the highway. They pillaged and killed without thought, and for that they didn’t deserve to see another day.

The coursers made steady progress toward the grand castle.

“‘Tis good to be back,” Ulric said.

“That it is,” Gavin agreed.

His loyal friend and commander had been with him long enough to appreciate his rise in fortune.

The guard at the gatehouse acknowledged his small troop, and with loud creaking, and groaning the chains attached to the drawbridge lowered.

The solid sounds of the horses’ hooves clattered across the wooden walkway, passing through the portcullis and double doors, and into the busy courtyard.

His horse snorted his approval as if he too was glad to be home.

They were halfway across the bailey when Estella heard a shriek.

“Sire!” a child called excitedly. Estella watched as a little girl who was not yet six years old dashed down the stairs of the keep, and ran across the courtyard. She wore a miniature woolen cloak and looked like a winter pixie that had come to greet them.

An old nursemaid, limping painfully, managed to somehow follow closely behind her active charge.

Gavin slipped off his horse. He crouched down, his arms spread opened. The girl ran straight into his arms, embracing him even though her slim arms could barely reach around the large knight. He lifted her up.

“What has taken you so long?” she demanded. She peered past Gavin, her blue eyes settling on Estella, taking in her red hair and fine woolen cloak. “And who have you brought with you?”

Estella put a hand to her mouth, hiding a smile. So this was his daughter. She reminded her so much of her sister Marguerite when she was that age, with her incessant questions and limitless curiosity.

Before Gavin could form an answer, the girl had already moved on to another area of interest. This time her attention was drawn to the sack that hung over Gavin’s shoulder. She raised her eyes hopefully at him. “Did you bring her?” she asked, her tone became hushed as if she was afraid of hearing the answer. “Is my Evelyn here with you?”

“Aye,” Gavin nodded. He set her down on the ground while he lifted the sack over his shoulder. Aware that Ulric was grinning at him, his cheeks became slightly flushed. He stuck one large hand into the sack, rummaging through the contents and produced the cloth doll that Estella had discovered earlier.

The girl snatched it from Gavin’s hand, and hugged it as if the doll was a dearly loved friend.

“Did you protect her from the outlaws?” she asked, her large eyes darting from Gavin to Ulric.

Gavin brought both hands up and placed it on his heart. “Aye, Rose, with our lives.”

“They never had a chance to get near her,” Ulric added.

Rose nodded gravely. “This is good,” she said. “Thank you, sires, for keeping her safe while she made her journey here.”

Her eyes then fell on the hound beside Estella. He began to wag his tail slowly as if to show he also had a hand in protecting her friend. The serious look that was present a moment ago dropped from her face. “Oh, a hound,” she gasped. “You brought along a hound to provide extra protection for my Evelyn.”

Sensing her reverence, the hound’s tail flipped faster. He walked over and licked her face. Rose averted her face to avoid the slobber and giggled. “I like him,” she said. “Can he sleep with me on my bed, Mary?”

The nursemaid shook her head and sighed. “Hounds are not meant to sleep on beds, my lady.” She looked over Rose’s head and gave Gavin a small smile. “I thank you for doing this, sire.” She then bent down and grasped the little girl’s hand. “Come along, my lady,” she said. “We must leave Sir Gavin to his guest.”

But the child ignored the old woman’s gentle prodding. Her gaze fastened onto Estella, watching her steadily as if to gauge her reaction.

“Outlaws are bad,” she declared. “They killed my mother.”

Estella’s mouth dropped open in shock, and she blinked at the startling revelation. “I — I am sorry to learn of this,” she said, finally recovering her composure.

Rose nodded. “‘Tis good that Sir Gavin and Sir Ulric protected you too,” she said. Then having lost interest in her conversation, she called out to the hound, “Come with me, Hound.” The hounded barked and followed the little girl’s command as if he had taken direction from her all his life.

Estella watched Rose, the hound and the nursemaid disappear out of sight. “You have a beautiful child,” she observed.

“Aye, she is beautiful,” Gavin replied. “And wise beyond her years, much like her mother.”

Ulric cleared his throat.

Gavin turned to his friend. “Ulric, our journey has been long. Why don’t you go to the barracks and rest until we meet in the hall for supper?”

Estella drew her eyebrows together, and watched the exchange between the two men.

Ulric breathed in deeply and straightened his spine to his full height. “As you wish.” He turned to her and bowed. “My lady,” he said before exiting from the hall.

“There is something that you are not telling me, sire,” she said.

“What else is there to tell?” Gavin asked, his tone careful and pleasant.

But instead of the words reassuring her, they made her feel more apprehensive.

CHAPTER 13

Estella watched the servant tending the fireplace in the solar. He nudged his foot at the hound to get him to move out of the way. But the hound just opened one eye to see what was bothering his sleep. At a second nudge, the hound got up on unsteady legs, and moved over to where Rose sat playing by the fireplace. The little girl smiled at the hound as he approached and continued to play with her dolls. Meanwhile Mary, her nursemaid was deeply absorbed in her embroidery.

The scene before Estella broke her heart, reminding her that she was among strangers.

Perhaps if she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself back at Cedwick with her sisters. No doubt they would be preparing for the upcoming twelve days of Christmas, and they would be busy decorating every corner of the castle with garlands of ivy and holly. She had hoped that her father would come for her, and put an end to this charade, but that hoped died when she learned the truth. There was nothing else but to make her sacrifice and follow through with the marriage.

But as the wedding day neared, her strong resolve began to weaken. Estella should have been grateful that Gavin kept his distance, except she wasn’t. At supper last night, he barely glanced over at her, choosing instead to converse with Ulric. She sat at the high table in full view of all the castle inhabitants, humiliated by the curious stares and whispers.

A small, repressed part of her began to rebel. Was this it? the voice demanded. Was this a taste of how married life would be? Where her husband would ignore her at meals? Where she would feel lonely and sad even with hundreds of people in attendance? She had agreed to forgo her dreams of love and happiness, all for her sisters’ welfare, but at what price?

The servant threw more wood into the fireplace. She watched as the flames jumped and licked at the outer edges of the log before it became consumed by the fire. She wished she could throw her dark thoughts into the blaze and let it burn. Unfortunately things weren’t that easy.

She dropped her gaze and gave an inward sigh.

A book of poetry that lay near her stool caught her notice. She picked it up, and absently ran her fingers over the smooth leather cover.

“My mother liked books,” Rose said.

Estella looked up, startled by the interruption. Rose had left her dolls on the floor and was now standing by Estella’s side. “But Mother cannot read them anymore because Mary says she is in heaven,” the small girl continued.

Estella paused, not sure how she would respond to another of her startling revelations. But the grave look on the little girl’s face tugged at her heart. “I am fairly certain that they have books in heaven as well,” she said. “Perhaps there’s an entire library collection as big as this castle.”

Rose’s face brightened. “Do you think so?” she asked.

“Aye,” Estella nodded. “She could read books on angels and heroic knights of old. No doubt she will have plenty to choose from.”

A big smile stretched across her tiny face. “I like you,” she said. “I am glad you will become a part of our family soon.”

“I am not sure I have —” Estella started to say. But she placed a finger under her chin, suddenly not wanting to be responsible for wiping off the radiant smile from Rose’s face. It was not that long ago that her own mother had died. At least she had her sisters and father to share in her grief. Rose on the other hand only had her father and the old nursemaid.

She acknowledged that Gavin was sensitive enough to see to his daughter’s needs, which was a rare quality in a man like him. But she still couldn’t figure out what he had to gain by marrying her. There were other women far better suited for his purpose.

Estella gave Rose a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Actually I am quite certain that your father would like having me here,” she said finally.

Rose gave her a puzzled look, but before she could say anything further, the hound had gotten up from his resting place and ambled over to them. He began to lick Rose’s hand, trying to incite her to play.

“Go ahead,” Estella suggested. “I am afraid that the hound thinks you are a far better playmate than I.”

Rose giggled but didn’t require too much persuasion from the hound to leave Estella’s side. Soon the two began a game of chase. The sound of laughter and barking filled the solar.

“That was a very nice thing to say to the child,” the nursemaid said. “Since her mother died, she has not been the same. Her mother’s death has really been hard on the poor girl.” Mary watched Rose, a half smile on her lips. “‘Tis good to see her laughing once again.”

Estella turned her gaze from the girl and the hound, and glanced over at the old nursemaid. Suddenly a curiosity took a hold of her. “Sir Gavin must have loved Rose’s mother dearly.”

“Aye, he did. Her death was a great blow to him as well.”

The knowledge that Gavin loved his wife made her feel uncomfortable, but she had asked, didn’t she? If she felt even a twinge of envy, she had no other person to blame except for herself. Still, she couldn’t understand why she would be so bothered by this information. Perhaps she was beginning to lose her mind, she decided.

“I recall her mother was killed by outlaws,” Estella said, trying to fill the silence that followed.

The old woman nodded sadly. “Lady Annabelle was carrying another babe in her womb and so the loss was two–fold.” She winced as if the memory caused her pain. “She was impatient to see Sir Gavin, and refused a large escort. Only two men, myself and Rose accompanied her.” She shook her head. “‘Twas foolish. And I told her so, but she scoffed at the idea that ‘twould be dangerous for us to traverse the highway. For it was broad daylight, she said.” Mary put down the pattern that she was stitching.

“So the outlaws ambushed her entourage,” Estella said, finishing for her.

The nursemaid nodded again. “A dozen of them were lying in wait. They forced us off our horses, and took every piece of jewelry and coin that we had. The two guards valiantly tried to protect us. And while they fought off the outlaws, my lady urged us to hide in the woods.” She looked down at her lap, her hand rubbing at the side of her hip as if the pain of the memory was located there.

“I ushered the child to hide underneath some bushes, and thought that my lady would follow us. But when I looked back, she was facing one of the outlaws with a dagger in her hand…” Mary’s voice became choked, and the tears began to stream down her wrinkled face.

Estella got up and touched the old woman on the shoulder. “Forgive me, Mary,” she said gently. “I did not mean to pry.”

She shook her head. “You have a right to know, my lady,” she said, brushing away the tears from her cloudy eyes. “We are told that you will marry Sir Gavin in three days. Christmas was always important to Rose and her mother. And Sir Gavin wants to honor them by holding the wedding that day. Perhaps your marriage to him will put some pleasure back into Rose’s life.”

Estella’s gaze returned to Rose, her heart torn between sympathy for the small girl, and the growing resentment and confusion for her own plight.

CHAPTER 14

Gavin looked up from the parchment that he was studying, and watched as Estella and Rose helped the servants hang evergreen garlands along the edges of the lower tables.

“I have not seen the servants this happy in all my years here at Ashburn,” Gavin murmured to Ulric.

Finished with the tables, Estella moved toward the hall entrance. She gestured to the fitted wooden forms that were wrapped in straw and placed along the recesses of the arched doorway. Half a dozen servants worked at inserting branches of boxwood into the straw to give it more volume and color.