Castle of the Heart (23 page)

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Authors: Flora Speer

Tags: #romance, #historical, #medieval

BOOK: Castle of the Heart
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“I’ll watch where I go and not get lost
again,” Selene said meekly.

She began to attend the weekly market that
was held in an open field on the far side of the outer wall and wet
moat. Each week she brought home some little trinket for Deirdre or
Cristin.

“You always buy from the same man,” Arianna
observed, as they walked across the bailey after one such
excursion. “That little dark fellow. He talked to you for quite a
long time, while I was at the next booth.”

“He’s amusing,” Selene responded, giving her
friend a bright red ribbon. “This is for your hair. Next week I’ll
try to find a green one for Cristin.”

“Are you ill, Selene? You are so pale, and
you are always so quiet these days.”

“Am I? I suppose I’m just growing older, and
perhaps more settled into this borderland life.” Selene turned to
leave Arianna, and bumped into the man who had limped up behind
her. “What are you doing, Reynaud? Are you spying on me?”

“I only thought to join you and Arianna, my
lady. You are going to the hall, aren’t you?”

“Stop watching me! Stop staring at me!” With
a visible effort, Selene regained control of herself. “You
frightened me, Reynaud. I did not hear you behind me. I’m sorry I
shouted at you. Excuse me, please. I should go to Deirdre.” She
hurried on before them, running up the steep steps to the
fore-building and disappearing into the keep.

“Now, what do you suppose ails her?” Reynaud
wondered. “She has never apologized to me before.”

Spring slipped into summer, with the border
so peaceful that Guy decided it was time to visit his English
properties.

“We are going to Adderbury and then on to
Kelsey,” Thomas told Selene. “Uncle Guy and Meredith, you and I.
There is a great deal to be done at both places, we haven’t been to
either for so long. We will be gone at least two months.”

“Two months?” Selene exclaimed. “We only just
returned from Tynant.”

“Nearly three months ago,” Thomas laughed. “I
had no idea you were so fond of Afoncaer.”

“I don’t want to leave Deirdre. She has just
learned to know me again after our last separation.”

“Then we’ll take her with us, and Arianna,
too. We’ll all go.”

“Not in the summer heat, Thomas. The poor
child will be sick from all that traveling. No, you and Guy and
Meredith go, and I will stay here. I’ll manage very nicely with
Arianna and Joan to help me, and Captain John to guard us.”

“Geoffrey will come to Afoncaer when we
leave. He always does.”

“Geoffrey?”

“I suppose he will want to bring Gwenefer
with him. Joan won’t like that much.”

“Gwenefer, too? Well,” Selene said brightly,
“you must see that I cannot possibly leave. I’ll have to mediate
between Joan and Gwenefer. That old woman is certain to be
scandalized when Geoffrey brings his mistress here and expects a
private room for them both.”

Thomas burst into laughter.

“Selene, I have never heard so many silly
excuses, not even from you. I know you have no interest in any
other man, so you can’t want to stay behind to meet a lover. Tell
me the truth. Why don’t you want to go with me?”

Selene thought rapidly, seeking one more
excuse, a story that would satisfy him. She found it in the
possibility that frightened her so badly every time it came into
her mind.

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was
certain,” she said, “but you force me to it. I may be with child
again, Thomas, and I’m afraid to travel for fear I’ll
miscarry.”

“Do you think so?” Thomas’s face came alive
with such joy that Selene felt drowned in shame for the lie. She
was not with child, but she feared she soon would be if she left
Afoncaer without a supply of her medicine, and Cynan never brought
her much. She had to meet him far too often to get more vials of
the stuff, and he frightened her. And now she had had to lie to
Thomas again. She felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web, unable
to get free.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she urged. “Wait
until you return. I’ll know for certain by then.” When he did
return, she would tell him she had been mistaken, and then she
would blot out his disappointment with her body, in the way that
pleased him best.

“You look frightened,” Thomas said.

“I was remembering how difficult it was the
last time, all that pain, and the blood. Will you come to bed with
me now, Thomas? I forget everything when I’m in your arms. I don’t
want to be afraid any more.”

 

 

Geoffrey and a few men from Tynant arrived on
the first day of August, and the following morning Thomas, Guy, and
Meredith rode off to attend to their English properties. Sir Kenelm
went with them. He had spent his childhood at Adderbury, until
coming to Afoncaer ten years before, and he was betrothed to the
daughter of Guy’s seneschal there. They would be married at
Adderbury, and Kenelm would bring his new wife back with him in
October.

“They have taken more men than we can rightly
spare,” Geoffrey said to Reynaud. “I will sorely miss Kenelm. But
it has been quiet all summer in this part of the border. Perhaps it
won’t matter that we are short-handed.”

Gwenefer did not come to Afoncaer with
Geoffrey. She waited until the day after Guy and his party had left
before she appeared. She rode in at the gate in a brilliant red
dress, trailing behind her two serving girls and a packhorse loaded
down with boxes and baskets of clothing.

“I don’t like that woman,” Cristin observed
jealously. She was in the kitchen with Arianna and Joan, helping to
arrange the midday meal. “Why did she have to come here and spoil
everything? I was so looking forward to riding with Geoffrey every
day, and now he won’t pay any attention to me at all.”

“What Sir Geoffrey needs,” Joan said to
Arianna, not troubling to hide her disgust, “is a good wife, not a
strumpet like that. And she’s one of those awful Welsh, too, and
not even from Geoffrey’s own lands. He ought to be ashamed of
himself. He would never have dared bring her here if Meredith were
at home.”

“What’s a strumpet?” Cristin asked.

“Avoid her as much as you can,” Arianna
advised, trying to ignore Cristin’s question and wishing Joan would
be silent in front of the child. “For Geoffrey’s sake treat her
politely when you must deal with her.”

“I’ll set her place at the foot of the lowest
table in the hall,” Joan grumbled. “She doesn’t belong here. She
ought to be in the town, in that disreputable house by the
gate.”

“What house?” Cristin followed Arianna out of
the kitchen, along the passageway, and into the great hall. “What
were you and Joan talking about? Geoffrey isn’t going to marry
Gwenefer, is he?”

“I doubt it,” Arianna said truthfully.

“He better not,” Cristin said. “I won’t allow
it. What do you think of this Gwenefer, Master Reynaud?”

The architect stood leaning on his crutches,
waiting for the trestle tables to be set up before he made his way
to his customary chair.

“I think, my dear, that you ought to remember
your manners. Do not forget you are the daughter of this castle,
and your parents’ representative in their absence.”

They were all shocked when not Geoffrey, but
Selene, insisted Gwenefer must sit on the dais, next to her.

“We became friends at Tynant,” Selene said to
Arianna, while Geoffrey looked embarrassed. “Gwenefer is most
entertaining.” But Selene looked white and tense, and Arianna
noticed she did not speak to Gwenefer at all during the meal. Nor
did Selene appear to be listening when Gwenefer sang for them
afterward.

“I wish Selene had not done that,” Geoffrey
remarked later to Arianna and Reynaud. “Gwenefer had agreed to eat
with the common folk while we are here, but I could not oppose
Selene’s wishes. She is the ranking lady at Afoncaer while Meredith
is gone, and I am bound to obey her in domestic matters.”

“It is very unlike Selene,” Arianna said.
“She is usually so proud of her rank. Too proud, in fact. She keeps
her distance from the common folk.”

“Yes,” Reynaud agreed, his pale eyes on
Selene. “It is odd. Most curious.”

“I should never have allowed Gwenefer to come
here.” Geoffrey looked uncomfortable, and Arianna realized he was
trying to apologize. “She said she could not bear to be parted from
me for so long, and I wanted her near me. I fear I’ve let affection
cloud my judgment, and I regret it already. I suppose I ought to
send her back to Tynant.”

Captain John, the grizzled old leader of
Guy’s men-at-arms, called to him, and Geoffrey left them to attend
to some problem in the barracks.

“Now, Arianna, you see the value of a
celibate life,” Reynaud remarked dryly, making Arianna smile in
spite of her distaste for the situation Geoffrey had inflicted upon
them. “He won’t send her away either, I’ll wager, though it would
be the wisest thing to do.”

“Cristin is heartbroken over Geoffrey’s new
love,” Arianna said, sobering at the sight of the girl’s stricken
eleven-year-old face across the hall.

“Cristin will recover,” Reynaud predicted.
“She’s young and there will be many young men she will sigh over
before she’s done. It’s Selene who worries me. I see terror in her
eyes. She reminds me of a rabbit trapped in a snare. If she does
not find her way free soon, I don’t know what will happen to
her.”

“She has become oddly quiet,” Arianna agreed.
“We are not as close as we once were, and it’s not just because she
is married and I am not. It’s as though some secret door in her
heart has been shut to me, and she will not open it again.”

Summer heat descended on Afoncaer, and
bright, sunny days followed each other in golden profusion, unusual
and welcomed after the wet devastation of the previous year.
Afoncaer lay basking peacefully in the sun while its people labored
at their summer chores. The crops were good. The villeins worked
cheerfully in the fields, knowing there would be no hunger for
humans or animals when winter finally came. Arianna carried baskets
of herbs to the stillroom to hang them so she and Meredith could
use them later when they were dried. Joan put Cristin in charge of
the kitchen garden. She was to weed and water the vegetables, while
at the same time chasing birds and insects away from the fruits
drying on racks. More fruits were preserved in honey, laid down in
large earthenware crocks. The cool storerooms beneath the great
hall and the keep began to fill with baskets of grain and root
vegetables. The new cistern was finished, and with the castle’s
expanded water supply assured Reynaud was free to turn his full
attention to reinforcement of the gatehouse at the outer entrance
to the village. He spent long days there directing the carpenters
and masons.

In the third week of August rumors began.
They spread among the villagers first, but it was not long before
the whispers reached the castle. Flickering lights had been seen in
the forest at night. Odd noises had been heard. Some said witches
or other supernatural beings were causing the commotion. More
practical minds suggested an earthly explanation when Reynaud,
Geoffrey, and Captain John conferred together.

“Could it be the Welsh?” Reynaud suggested.
“They have been too quiet lately. Perhaps they are preparing an
attack.”

“It’s always possible,” Geoffrey agreed.
“I’ll send a couple of men to Tynant to be sure all is well there,
and I think a thorough inspection of the castle’s defenses is in
order.”

“I’ll see to it at once,” Captain John said.
He ordered every inch of the walls examined, both castle and town.
The towers were secure, and so were the gatehouses, and they would
be even safer when Reynaud’s improvements were completed.

“Another few days, that’s all we need,”
Reynaud said. “But the present arrangement is strong enough to hold
should an attack come. Post extra guards if you are worried.”
Geoffrey did.

Lastly, the postern gate was checked. The way
to it was a narrow, steep stairway that zigzagged through the
foundations of the castle wall. The entrance to the stair was at
one side of the inner bailey, near the tower keep. The door was
thick and strong, secured with a bar and a heavy lock. It could
only be opened from inside the castle wall. At the bottom of the
long stairway lay a second door, even stronger than the first, and
it, too, opened only from inside. There was no sign of
tampering.

“All’s well,” Geoffrey said, coming back to
the inner bailey a little out of breath. “That’s a difficult
staircase to climb, and the steps cut into the cliff below the gate
down there are even worse. It would take a very agile goat to climb
up here from the river. You built well, Reynaud. Heavily armed men
could never get in that way.”

“It was planned for escape,” Reynaud said,
“not for easy entrance.”

The postern doors were barred and locked
again, and Geoffrey went on to the corner towers and the wall by
the keep.

“All is secure,” he finally reported. “Just
the same, I have ordered extra guards and we will stay alert. I
think we can rest easy, though. Nothing seems amiss. This castle is
too strong for anything but the heaviest siege engines to breach
the walls, and we know the Welsh have no such equipment.”

“But you are not easy, are you?” Arianna said
to Reynaud when he spoke to her later of Geoffrey’s efforts.

“I feel,” he told her, “the way I do when a
thunderstorm is about to break, or a blizzard in winter. My bones
ache. Something is going to happen. And soon.

“What can we do?”

“Wait.” He smiled at her, the deep lines in
his face crinkling. “And plan.”

He looked around Meredith’s herb garden. He
liked to sit there in the sun while Arianna worked cutting herbs or
trimming off dead blossoms. It was a quiet, private place, though
only a few steps away from the bustling inner bailey. Nothing that
was said here, behind its enclosing stone walls, could be overheard
outside.

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