Catherine Coulter (33 page)

“What will it matter? I will be dead by nightfall, she will kill me.”

Merry said, “You said she would turn you into a lizard. Well, I believe you would make a fine lizard. Just think how very fast you will climb trees. How long have you been tending me?”

“Two days now. I wake ye up, bathe ye, feed ye, give ye some drink from this bottle of water yer mother left fer ye, and help ye relieve yerself. Then ye drift off again, like a sweet little lamb.”

Merry took the basket from the old woman and led her unresisting out the wooden front door.

She looked back at the stark, ugly tower that sat in the middle of an enclosure. Was Garron still in London? Did he believe her dead, and returned to Wareham? She didn’t know what to do. But at least she knew how to begin.

“Let us go,” she told the old woman. “Quickly.”

They walked through the woods, as fast as she could prod the old woman along. Merry wished the old woman
was
a lizard, they’d certainly move faster. When finally they reached the small clearing where the woodcutter’s hut sat, Merry stopped and looked carefully around. “How do I get out of this forest?”

The old woman pointed. Merry opened the basket and looked inside. There were slices of partridge, a thick loaf of brown bread, and a flask. She smiled at the old woman. “There is a lot of food here. What would you like to have?”

The old woman immediately picked up the brown bread. When Merry pointed to the meat, she shook her head.

“Would you like what is in the flask?”

“Nay, young’un. Ye’re thirsty, ye drink it. And the meat, it’ll fill up yer belly.”

Merry grabbed the meat, set the basket on the ground, and began running toward the woods. She called out over her shoulder, “Enjoy your dreams.”

She’d no sooner reached the trees when she heard a loud whooshing sound. She dove behind a thick, ancient maple tree.

 

 

 

I
t trained only one day on their journey back to Wareham, a light, warm rain that even Robert Burnell didn’t mind. He merely wound his long woolen scarf around his head and tied it beneath his chin. All thoughts, all conversation, Robert Burnell’s included, was about Arthur’s silver coins. Garron actually saw Burnell rubbing his hands together, doubtless contemplating the king’s pleasure when he returned to place pouches of silver coins in the king’s eager hands. The king had sent twenty of his most trusted soldiers with Burnell to guard his share.
Damn you, Arthur.

It seemed to Garron that he was the only one who cared where the silver coins had come from.

He looked over at Merry, who was humming a tune he’d heard at court. She wore no covering over her head. Her glorious hair shone beneath the afternoon sun, long and loose, not a single small braid hidden here or there. The queen’s ladies must have told her the thick plaits were for a child, not a grown lady who was shortly to marry. He wanted to tell her they were wrong, that he really liked the fat plaits and the small hidden braids, and the smell of her hair. He pulled Damocles close to her mare. “You’re thoughtful. Are you making a list of all that you wish to do with Arthur’s silver?”

“Lists. Why do you always think I am making lists, my lord?”

He cocked his head at her. “You always are, just as I am.”

She cocked her head back at him, then gave him a look that made him want to grab her off her mare’s back, set her facing him, and wish them alone, all in the space of a moment. Would she enjoy him this time? Probably not, it was too soon. He needed time and privacy, aye, lots of time, and his wits about him this time. He grinned, looking around at the score of men who rode around them, then back at her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Merry asked.

“I am remembering our one night together. I am remembering how your breasts felt in my hands, how you tasted. I am remembering how it felt to tear through your maidenhead.” Simply saying that word made him shudder. “And I am remembering how Gilpin thought murder was being done in my chamber.”

She said nothing at all, looked straight ahead between her horse’s ears.

“I am sorry I hurt you, Merry.” Still she said nothing. He arched a black brow. “What is this? You do not wish to berate me? You do not wish to tell me it was all my fault?”

“It was your fault.”

“Ha, I was not even there, not really, just the husk of myself. One minute I was dreaming of mighty deeds, the next moment Blanche was astride me, her breasts in my hands. I remember I did not understand why she was still wearing her bedgown.”

Again, she cocked her head at him, then in the space of a moment, he would swear she was embarrassed. Well, she should be, since she’d been the one to come to him. She raised her chin. “I have nothing to say about it.”

He was charmed. He said, voice low, “You certainly had a lot to say then.”

“A lady must speak upon certain occasions or else be ground under.”

“Ah, so you’re no longer embarrassed about what you did. Now you’re all smug and pleased with yourself. I wager if we were walking, you would be swaggering. No, don’t look at me like that. It is how you looked at the king and he nearly drooled on you. I will do more than drool, believe me.”

“I did nothing to the king. It is merely a look, of little account.”

“Did the queen’s ladies teach you how to do it? I never saw that look before you poured it full measure on the king.”

“My lord, we are nearly home!”

Garron slapped her horse’s neck and rode to the front of the column. He looked toward Wareham. His home and it would be his children’s home.
A dynasty
, he thought. If life dished out more good than bad, he and Merry would build a dynasty that lasted until time passed into a far-distant future.

He shouted at the top of his lungs, and galloped toward Wareham.

T
here were piles of silver pennies, not a single one was cut, all were whole, glistening in the dull light in the lord’s bedchamber, so many of them, piles upon piles, guarded in shifts by a dozen men, and two of his most trusted men, Pali and Hobbs, in charge.

Garron reached down and gathered a handful and watched them slide through his fingers. The silver weighed heavy. The silver also would make him wealthy beyond his wildest dreams, even after the king took his own generous share. There was still so much to be done here at Wareham and now he was wealthy enough to accomplish anything he wished to do.

Burnell said complacently, as he sifted through the piles of silver himself, “Our precious king will be so pleased with you, my lord, I doubt not he will bestow another barony on you. Mayhap even a knighthood for Aleric.”

Garron heard Aleric draw in his breath behind him. He looked up at him. “Sir Aleric. Now that has a nice sound to it.” And another barony for his dynasty? “Ah, do you believe the king will require more than a
just
share for this barony?”

Robert Burnell did not look up from the pile of silver coins he was counting. “Again you indulge in irony, my lord. We will count the silver, and then we will count it again, and then we will see.”

He was distracted when Merry called out, “Miggins tells me Jason of Brennan is now a very smelly old woman. He cursed you and God in the same breath, she says, and he is demanding trousers.”

Garron turned to see Miggins standing beside Merry, grinning from ear to ear. He grabbed her up and whirled her about. “What say you, Miggins, shall we leave the thieving lout in his gown?”

“Aye, lad, he makes a fine old crone. But ye know, he hasn’t cursed so much the past two days. Ah, but his rage, Pali told me it still pours off him like rancid oil. I wanted to kick him and so my sweet Pali here stepped aside. I slammed my shoe in his ribs, dug my toes right in. Aye, the little coward yelled proper loud.”

Garron said to Hobbs and Pali, “Thank you both for guarding the silver. It is Wareham’s future. Pali, that was a fine reward for Miggins.” He rose, dusted off his hands, called out to the dozen or so people in the lord’s bedchamber, “The silver is well guarded. Let us see what our old crone has to say.”

As the procession walked down the narrow stairs to the granary, Hobbs cleared his throat. “A surprise awaits you, Garron.”

Garron’s eyebrow shot up.

“Nay, you will see,” said Hobbs. Each step they took down the stairs, the air became more chill and dank and fetid. There were no windows, just deep shadows even with the rush lights.

Aleric unlocked the cell door and raised the rush light high. “There is Jason of Brennan, in all his glory.”

Garron saw that Jason of Brennan had rubbed all the dirt seams off his face and the black from his teeth. He was close to Arthur’s age, young and comely, or he would be if he didn’t look so very miserable, filthy, and sullen. He hadn’t stripped off the old gown because it was too cold and damp to go without. It was a wretched room, and Garron was pleased to think of him spending the past week here.

“At last I meet you, Jason of Brennan. I am Garron of Kersey, Earl of Wareham. And this, I believe, must be your husband?”

He looked down at the old man as he slowly raised his head. He’d also cleaned the lines and seams off his face, rubbed the black off his teeth. Garron looked into Sir Halric’s face.
How lucky can a man be?

Pali said, “Your surprise, Garron. Aleric knew you would be pleased to see the whoreson again.”

“I have been hoping Aleric was right. Let me tell you I find your disguises very clever, but it is over now. I wish the truth now, all of it. Jason of Brennan, you will begin.”

Jason gathered as much spit in his mouth as he could and sent it hurtling toward Garron’s boot. It fell several inches short. He was heaving, he was so enraged. “I will tell you nothing, you bastard!”

Hobbs said at his elbow, “I knew you wouldn’t want them starving and nearly dead, Garron, so I had Bullic feed them well. Now when you break them, it will be all the sweeter.”

Hobbs knew him well.

“Sir Halric, the last time I saw you, you were running away from me.”

Sir Halric merely stared at him, said nothing at all.

Garron studied Jason of Brennan’s face again, then he turned on his heel and walked out of the cell, calling back over his shoulder, “I will see you and Sir Halric again in two days. Perhaps you will feel like talking to me then.”

As the cell door clanked shut, Garron heard Sir Halric groan, heard the murmur of low, angry voices.

For two days, Garron said nothing more about the men, merely instructed Bullic to continue to feed them well.

Garron was eating bread and cheese the following morning, when he saw Merry staring at Elaine, her eyes narrowed. “What is this? Has Elaine displeased you?”

She looked quickly over at him, shaking her head. “Nay, I worry about her, that is all. Why is she speaking to that soldier?”

Garron said mildly, “That man is Lussy, one of the king’s finest soldiers. As you well know, her husband was killed by Jason of Brennan’s men. Lussy is a good man. I’m thinking she might like him. What is amiss with you, Merry? You have always liked Elaine.”

Merry was slowly shaking her head, her lips seamed. “I don’t believe that is her purpose. I heard her say your name plainly. She is speaking to Lussy about you, Garron. ’Tis you she wants, not Lussy. I know it.” At his baffled look, she raised her hand to her forehead and rubbed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying. ’Tis a pain in my head that is making me miserable and foolish.”

“Have you no recipe to cure yourself?”

She looked utterly blank.

“The pain must be very bad indeed to make you forget your
Leech Book of Bald
,” he said patiently. “Consult it for a curative potion. Would you like Miggins to help you? She does not read, but she could surely follow your directions.”

“Nay, I can do it by myself.”

He watched her walk away from him. He’d been about to ask her if she would wed with him on the morrow, but he hadn’t. There was indeed still something very wrong with her. He continued to watch her cross the great hall. She didn’t pause to greet a single woman she passed. He frowned. She truly believed Elaine to be interested in him. It made no sense, and he thought again about the drug her mother had fed her. It had changed her utterly.

He heard Aleric yelling something at Gilpin. Three minutes later, he was laughing so hard he was holding his belly. Gilpin had tied Eric the goat to Aleric’s new bed. Smelling the fresh lumber, the goat had chewed through one of the bed legs.

 

 

W
ithout conscious thought, Garron found himself watching Merry throughout the day. He realized she seemed distant from the women, very unusual for Merry, who always had her nose pressed into every single task being performed at Wareham. But what was very strange indeed was that the women didn’t come to her as they used to. And the laughter, it had become more and more rare since they’d come back to Wareham. Today, he thought, it was simply gone. He thought again of her mother’s drug. What had the witch done to her own daughter? She was simply different, and it had nothing to do with her loose hair, which she wore long and free all the time now, or the smell of her hair.

But there was so much to be done, he had no time to dwell on it. The silver was discussed and counted and discussed more and recounted. He and Burnell agreed to the number of silver coins Burnell would take back to the king. Rather, Burnell announced the amount and Garron, having no choice whatsoever, and thinking about another barony, agreed. After all, it had been his brother’s silver in any case, not his. Or Arthur had stolen it, probably from Jason of Brennan’s father, Lord Ranulf, but who knew? It was manna from heaven for him, no matter the number of coins remaining to him after the king’s large hands delved into the piles.