Heartsong (18 page)

“I did not sleep well,” she told her maid when Mildred came to escort her to table.

“But the day is beautiful. Not a cloud and the sun will warm the air.”

“I’ve no need to take in the sun, or the clear sky. This day I will stay here, in my chamber.” Rhianna flopped into the chair closest to the hearth.

“Nay, Sir Lydon will not allow it. He will not rest until he knows you are here.”

“They do not trust me.” Rhianna stared at the fire, her voice husky with regret.

“Do not blame them. You ran away.”

“Then, come, we must not keep deShay’s knight waiting for my appearance.” Rhianna could not explain her behavior to herself, let alone to Mildred. Depression slashed at her resolve. Could missing Arthur or Garrett be the cause? She didn’t want to examine the thought.

“Forgive me. I am not myself. The night was not good.”

Mildred smiled. “‘Tis hard on you, this confinement. With my Lord gone away, we will all miss him.”

Rhianna stiffened. “I do not miss your lord. Nay, ‘tis my brother I miss, and my home. Mildred, I want to go back to Wales. I need to go home.”

Her maid looked apprehensive. “But, you cannot. My lord will have to wait until our king decides what is to be done. Then, you will go.”

“But not knowing what will happen is ruining my life. I must go home.”

“We will talk of this no more. I can do nothing. You can do nothing. You must wait.” Mildred marched to the door and Rhianna sensed her upset.

“Again, I ask your forgiveness. ‘Tis hard for me.”

“You are forgiven. Now, we must break our fast.” Mildred yanked at the lever, opening the door. Without a backward glance she left the chamber.

Rhianna bit her lower lip. Mildred didn’t understand. She followed the maid down the stairs to table, grimacing when she saw Sir Lydon pacing the floor. Aye. No one trusted her and for that she had only herself to blame, but she could not stay at Knockin much longer.

Before they finished their meal, a sentry rushed forward. Rhianna felt her heart drop to her toes. Here was the news that something horrible had happened. Her distress mounted with each word the sentry spoke.

“‘Tis Sir Moirant’s banner with Sir Hubbard’s. They approach from the east, from the direction of Sanford.”

Lydon Tomlaine cursed.

“Send me a runner. I’ll need to send word to the Baron. He would not want his brother to be entertained without his own presence at Knockin.”

Rhianna felt slithers of ice race up her spine. Without Garrett here to protect her, what might her fate be at the hands of those two? She remembered Colvin’s words to her on the day her father died, the day he caught her dashing for help.

I’ll have my way with you wench, then slit your throat. Your blood on my tunic will declare my part in this war.

Had he come to make good his promise? With Moirant at his side, her future looked bleak indeed.

Sir Lydon must have realized her plight for he turned to her.

“Go to your chamber and await my summons. Do not leave that room until I send for you.”

She did not tarry. Mildred followed, her steps as rapid as Rhianna’s own. It appeared her maid had no wish to see these men either.

Rhianna heard a commotion in the courtyard a short time later. The sounds of battle reigned for a short time, then nothing. Several more hours passed, but there was no summons from Sir Lydon. Rhianna paced at one end of the chamber and Mildred copied her actions at the other end.

“What could be happening?” Rhianna asked.

“We know they have arrived,” Mildred whispered and Rhianna heard the fear in her voice.

“Aye, but does Sir Lydon want us to stay here, or should be go below?”

A
“Nay,” Mildred almost shouted.
A
“We will not go below. Sir Hubbard only comes to make trouble. We must stay here.”

A sharp knock on the door stopped any more conversation.

“Finally,” Rhianna muttered as she strode to the portal.

One of the stable boys stood outside the door. As soon as the panel swung open, he slipped inside.

“Edina needs you,” he said, pointing at Mildred. As quickly as he entered, he left, leaving both women staring at the open door.

“Something has happened. I must go to my sister. Do not leave this chamber.” Mildred rushed from the room.

The sun swept across the sky while Rhianna paced the

chamber. All through the rest of the day she waited but there was no summons for her, nor did Mildred return. As the sun disappeared over the top of the trees bathing the sky in a mottled blue and gray, it gave a lie to Mildred’s declarations of a beautiful day.

Rhianna remembered her concern over her restless slumber. Aye, something had happened, but not to Arthur, Garrett or her brother. Nay, the terror of her dreams had not been about them, but about herself. She was the one in danger and no one knew.

As she paced her chamber, she waited for someone to bring her a report about what had happened.

No one came.

She gazed from the window slit and the only activities she saw in the bailey were some of the visiting soldiers camping around the walls. Garrett’s men still strolled the wall walk, but there was an uneasy quiet about the place.

Darkness fell and Rhianna gave serious thought to walking down the steps for the evening meal. She was hungry and anguished. Knowledge of what had occurred in the courtyard earlier that morn ate at her. She had to know.

After she straightened her dress and hair she stepped to the door. When she pulled the lever, nothing happened. Tugging against the wood, she tried to open the portal. It wouldn’t give.

The door must be bolted. She couldn’t leave the chamber.

For hours, she paced the floor. The chill of the night seeped into the room and she wrapped herself in one of the furs from the bed. Occasionally she tried the door. It never gave.

Despair grew until, with nothing to do, she slumped against the bed. Tired and hungry, she crawled onto the mattress. Eventually, she felt herself drift into sleep.

With the dawn she climbed from the bed, her restless night renewing her depression. When she heard someone at her door, she raced to the portal which opened a crack. Someone shoved a chunk of bread and a goblet of ale into the room, then they slammed the door. She heard the bolt being shoved back in place.

“Eat it slow, for that’s all you get this day,” a woman’s voice announced from the other side of the wood.

Rhianna recognized the voice. It belonged to one of the women who serviced some of the men. Mildred told her more than once this particular woman had set her eyes on Garrett. Although, Mildred admitted that to her knowledge, the lord had yet to take her to his bed. Still, the woman bragged to the others that Garrett would succumb to her seduction when she was ready.

Then the maid’s words registered.
All you get this day.
Where was Lydon? Did they intend to starve her? Aye, feeding her once a day would not result in starvation before Garrett returned, but she would surely be much thinner. Besides, she had a horrible feeling something else was going on at Knockin.

From the window slit, she could see the gray, drab sky and decided it matched her mood. She glanced at the tray. At least she had something to eat, but the loaf and the ale did little to dull her hunger.

At least there was a little water left in the jug on her table for washing. She used a tiny bit on her face. Then she tried to sew. Worry prevented any concentration.

To ward off the chill in the chamber, she wrapped herself in one of the bed furs. Without a fire in the hearth, the room grew cold. After all, September had faded and fall had arrived in England.

The light dimmed as the day drew to a close. Rhianna chewed the last of her bread and examined her empty goblet. Mayhap tomorrow Mildred and Lydon would come to save her. She bent her knees and prayed she had the right of it.

Exhausted from her day of worry and with her previous restless night, dreamless slumber came as soon as her head touched the mattress. How long she slept she didn’t know, but a strange scratching sound invaded her rest. A soft voice called to her. She roused herself enough to realize the sound was coming from the door.

“Yes,” she said as she moved toward the portal, hope surging through her. Rescue was at hand.

“Quiet,” the voice on the other side of the door demanded in a low voice.

Hope evaporated. Rhianna moved to the other side of the door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Mildred,” came the reply. “But, I can’t unbolt the door. We’ll have to talk through it as quick as possible. I don’t want to be found here.”

“Why? What has happened?”

“Lydon has been injured. The wound looks like my Lord’s arrow wound. Edina said you would know what herbs we need.”

“Will the cook give them to you?”

“Aye, for although everyone is afraid of Colvin, they are more afraid of what my Lord will say when he returns.”

“What is happening in the hall? As you can see, they will not release me from this chamber.” Rhianna paused, wondering if she ought to tell her maid about the only meal she received that day. Nay, it would only upset Mildred and Rhianna doubted her maid could change the situation.

“Has anyone sent word to Lord deShay?” Rhianna asked.

“Aye, as soon as Colvin arrived. But they will have to find him because only Sir Lydon knows where he is. After he was wounded, Lydon was made unconscious.” Mildred’s voice rose in indignation. “After he fell to the ground, Sir Moirant hit him on the head.”

“Mayhap there is more to his injuries than the wound.”

“Oh, don’t say it is so, please. Quick, tell me what to do before someone comes.”

Rhianna listed the herbs she’d used with Garrett and how to prepare them.

“I’ll return if I can,” Mildred promised.

Rhianna still knew nothing about what was happening at Knockin. Mildred had to return to answer her questions.

The next morning, a different woman shoved a bit of bread and a cup of ale into the chamber. Rhianna paced the floor, wringing her hands as she gazed at the bread and the ale. She had to know what had taken place. Still, the day passed without a word from anyone. Only occasionally did the sound of a yell or laughter seep into her room.

Long after the castle had settled for the night, she paced the floor, praying that Mildred would return with at least some word about Sir Lydon. If he was the only one who knew where Garrett had gone... She didn’t want to think about the possibilities that Sir Lydon might not recover.

~ * ~

Harold Moirant leaned toward the lord’s chair. “I tell you, Colvin, ‘tis not going to work. deShay will come and we both will face his sword.”

“What I planned will occur. It cannot fail.” Colvin pinched the buttocks of the wench sitting on his lap and laughed. “Already his servants complain about the witch.”

“She will place a curse on your head,” Harold muttered before he reached for his cup of ale.

“Not if she believes I am trying to protect her.”

“And how do you propose to do that when you have her locked away and are only feeding her bread and one cup of ale a day?” Moirant slammed his cup on the table. Colvin smirked. The man was scared of the woman locked in the chamber above the hall. He pushed the woman from his lap and leaned forward.

“Do you really think her a witch?” Colvin took a sip of his own cup and whispered, “I only say that to have a reason to destroy her. You were in my hall when Margot told how my brother chased after her when she escaped. I have seen the two of them together. My brother makes noises about a hostage for the king, but he wants the wench in his bed, hostage or nay. Believe it when I say he lusts after her. This time I intend to see him lose something he wants.”

“I don’t think the abbot will conduct a trial. He will want to test this woman himself, will he not?” Moirant gazed at the stairs and shuddered.

“A test? Nay, not when the servants here testify to her black magic.”

“But,” Moirant said, “what proof that she has done black magic? From the comments in my hearing the wench cured the lord when that arrow almost felled him.”

“It should have felled him. There was enough poison...” Colvin drew back in his chair. Damn, he should have greater care with his words.

“You? It was you that shot the arrow?”

“Quiet. You fool. The castle does not need to know of my man’s doings. There are many here still loyal to Garrett. I have no desire to one night find a knife in my back.”

Colvin watched as his words registered.

“It is time I visited mine own land.”

“Coward,” Colvin snapped.

“What will happen when your brother returns? Have you given that so little thought?”

“He will be gone for weeks,” Colvin replied. “I do nothing without having knowledge of what occurs in this place.”

“You have spies here?”

“I told you before we left Sanford, there was nothing to fear. I tell you, I know of the king’s command. Garrett will not return until long after the woman in the upper chamber has been judged and put to death. Now, I want you to spread the word. Any who have proof of this woman’s witchcraft can come to me for a reward. After all, I am only trying to save my brother’s soul. All know that witchcraft is the devil’s trade.” Colvin smiled and raised his cup.