Heartsong (7 page)

She shook her head, but he ignored her silent protest, grabbed her arm and dragged her from the area. She fought him, but it did no good.

Whispers followed her from the room.

“Witchcraft!”

“The woman from Wales is a witch.”

“She’s bewitched him. He wants her with him.”

With each whisper more panic blossomed. She took a ragged breath, offering a quick prayer. Surely these people couldn’t believe her a witch?

She stumbled after deShay, still struggling to loose her arm. Somehow, she knew the main hall would be no safer for her than the kitchen had been.

As they moved along the corridor, one of Garrett’s knights stood waiting for them.

“Take her,” Garrett announced. Rhianna knew she would bruise when he shoved her into the other man’s arms.

“She is not safe in the kitchen. So she becomes your responsibility for a time.”

Rhianna looked into the grim face of Sir Lydon, the knight Garrett called friend. Nay, this knight had already stated he would never let her escape. She knew his feelings about her.

“What do I do with her?” he asked.

“Tonight, she can sleep at your side.” Garrett walked away before she had a chance to protest. And protest she would.

Rhianna turned.

“At your side? Nay, Sir Tomlaine, nay. I cannot take my rest with you.”

“You will tell me why. ‘Tis myself that loses in this arrangement,” Lydon bellowed in anger. “I had planned to suffer through a few more ales before I sought my pallet. And I had not thought to spend it alone.” He glared at her.

“But…but, sir, you a..are a ma—an,” Rhianna stuttered, her husky voice trembling. “I cannot sleep beside you. I am a maid.”

“I will not bed you, damsel. That I leave for my Lord.” He dragged her into the hall. “My lord has given you into my protection. Now, hush. This has been a long day and I wager that tomorrow will be longer.” He guided her toward a corner. “After we’ve supped and I’ve had me ale, we’ll sleep here.”

Rhianna sat frozen with dread as the knights and soldiers ate and drank the evening away. Darkness had fallen hours before when Lydon finally approached her.

“Time for sleep.” He stretched and then reached for her, giving her no chance to object. He pushed her down into a pile of furs. She lay on her side, her face against the thick fur. She struggled against him, trying hard to move away but she was so tired her movements were sluggish.

“Hold!” He cuffed her lightly.

“You must leave my side. I cannot sleep here.”

“You have no choice. Nor do I.”

He held her arm as he pushed her away and Rhianna relaxed a bit. It was the last thing she remembered that night.

~ * ~

Rhianna awoke the next morning and stretched against the soft surface of a feather tick. A feather tick?

Startled, she sat up and stared around her. Her heart skidded to a halt. She was in a bed, a huge bed and she had no idea how she’d gotten there.

She was still fully clothed, a fur cover wrapped around her feet. The morning sun was coming through a slit in the wall and it was far too bright to be the light of dawn. Shaking with alarm, she crawled from the bed.

Her feet touched the soft wool of a carpet. Startled, she glanced down at the brilliant red and blue swirls on the floor. She scanned the dark wood furnishings of the room noticing two tall-backed chairs, two chests and a table on one side of the room.

A huge opening took up most of the other wall and there was evidence a fire burned there just like the place in the main hall. Behind the bed, bright tapestries depicted ladies dining, dressing and preparing for the hunt.

Two heavy-framed doors, one much larger than the other, opened into the room. Rhianna took a deep breath, then tiptoed toward the larger of the two portals, hoping somehow she could find her way to Arthur.

A dozen questions raced through her mind.
Where am I? How did I get into this bed? Am I still a maid?

She glanced at her gown, sighing with relief.
I still wear my gown.

As if the worn and faded garment was a suit of armor, she clutched it around herself. But the questions persisted. Who had brought her to this place, and more important, why?

Before she reached the larger of the two doors, someone tapped on the wood. Rhianna bit her lower lip to keep from crying in alarm. The taste of copper filled her mouth and she wiped at her bleeding lip.

The door swung toward her and a round face peaked around the oaken beam. A soft voice whispered, “Oh, you have awakened.”

A plump young woman slipped into the room, a tray in her hands and cloth hanging from her arms.

She stood next to the door, almost as if she wanted to run.

“Are you truly a witch?” she asked.

Jolted from her fear, Rhianna tried to smile.

“If I am, such a question as that could see you harmed.” At the look of alarm that crossed the young woman’s face, Rhianna hurried to reassure. “Nay, I am not. As deShay told the cook, I have no powers.”

When the maid looked only slightly relieved, Rhianna continued, “I spoke in anger when we were in Wales. I threatened to curse your lord, but, nay, I cannot. But I must ask you a question?”

The woman stepped closer and nodded.

“Oh, aye. You want my name. It is Mildred.”

“I am called Rhianna. But, that is not my question. Nay, tell me, how did I come to be here, in this room, in this bed?”

Mildred smiled. She set the tray on the table and draped the clothing she carried over a chair.

“Sir Tomlaine brought you here. You see, he and my sister, Edina are promised. Edina heard that Lord deShay ordered Sir Tomlaine to sleep with you. She came to the hall to see you for herself. Then she took exception. Edina speaks her mind.”

“And deShay listened?”

Mildred giggled.

“Nay, she did not go to my Lord even though our father was one of his knights. She told Sir Tomlaine to go. Edina intends to wed Sir Tomlaine and she did not want you in his bed. So you are here, in my Lord’s chambers. Some of the castle wenches are not happy about this.”

The news didn’t please Rhianna. This Mildred might think it a joke but she couldn’t know of deShay’s plan to bed her. He’d already had his say about the matter. And the castle wenches would do her harm. She knew that too. Lily waited at their keep. She and Arthur had to leave this place. Perhaps Mildred could offer assistance. The maid wouldn’t have to know she was aiding the enemy.

Rhianna watched as Mildred scurried about the room, straightening the bedcovers and tightening the bed ropes.

“Sir Tomlaine also said that he thinks you are a lady. It is by his request that I am here. Are you a lady? I won’t say anything about it. But I must warn you, if you are a lady, you must say nothing while you are here. All here know how my Lord hates the Welsh. Especially the ruling class. However, I must also warn you,” Mildred continued without stopping for a breath, “Beware of Lord Colvin Hubbard. He does not feel as my Lord deSahy does. He’s Lord deShay’s half brother and he comes to visit often. I’m sure he only wants to make trouble.”

“Make trouble? I don’t understand,” Rhianna said.

She nodded her head. “Aye, he stopped on the way to his own holding and told anyone who would listen his brother had captured a Welsh witch, that my Lord deShay was bringing her to Knockin. He said he had proof but would not tell what it was. The people here at Knockin are superstitious. A caring lord would not bring a witch to his castle. Nay, Lord Hubbard wants to discredit my Lord in their eyes.”

She glanced around the room as if checking to see that she had left nothing undone.

“Here I am speaking when I should be tending to your needs. I brought a bliaud and a smock that are worn, but clean. And a mug of warmed spiced ale for you to sip. There is warm water for washing on the tray.” She glanced from the tray to Rhianna. “You do want to wash, do you not? Oh, and I even found a crespine for your hair. Now, we must hurry.”

Rhianna glared at the young woman. Of course she wanted to wash. Did this Mildred think the Welsh were unclean souls? But then, she seemed young, perhaps three summers younger than Rhianna, and her round, full face was relaxed, serene and unsophisticated. Aye, naive. She also loved to talk, but mayhap that was not a bad thing.

The warm water beckoned so Rhianna struggled to strip away her soiled gown. However, her shoulder had not healed enough to make movement easy or graceful.

“Oh, my Lady, you have been injured.” Mildred’s large brown eyes blinked wide with sympathy. “I did not know. Come, I’ll wrap the wound and see you dressed in minutes.”

“It’s all right.” Rhianna took a sip from the mug, grimaced, then frowned at the flavor. These English had strange tastes.

Clothed in the borrowed blue gown, her dark brown hair confined in a plain crespine, Rhianna crept down the stairs followed by Mildred. She stopped once in the shadows and leaned against the wall. How many of the people sitting below had been in the hall and awake last night when deShay ordered her carried to his rooms?

She pressed her ice-cold fingers against her hot cheeks. If even a few had seen, she guessed that everyone in the hall now knew. She blushed with the shame of it.

Gossip traveled through the chambers of a keep as fast as lightning struck. She knew that from Brynn Ffrydd. Knockin couldn’t be that much different, just much bigger, more people to tell the tale. All the castle folk would now name her deSahy’s leman.

Even though he hadn’t taken her yet, she was now disgraced, dishonored. For that alone, her brothers would kill deShay.

~ * ~

Seated at the table, Garrett watched Rhianna’s decent.

She had a lush figure, full breasts, a narrow waist and moved with the grace of a forest creature. Her oval face, though tense with what looked like apprehension, was perfection. His groin tightened as he remembered carrying her in his arms that first fateful day. Once again her beauty struck him. He could look on her with appreciation, for she was a beautiful woman.

However, the way she carried herself fanned a flicker of doubt. Lydon’s comments about her being of noble birth returned to bother him. A Lady? As he watched, his suspicions grew.

If she was of noble birth that made for a serious problem. Edward would want her at his court as another hostage.

He shook the thoughts from his head. If she was of the ruling class, then Arthur might be her brother. Yet, although they seemed close, there was no indication they were related.

Besides, no lord’s son would muck out stables and shovel the offal from the floor without considerable complaint. Yet young Arthur went about his tasks as if he had done that work for most of his life. Mayhap he didn’t have the hostage his sovereign wanted, unless this woman... He couldn’t finish the thought.

Garrett grimaced as he watched her slink across the hall. She might not be a witch, but she was also no lady. In fact, he would much rather she be a witch than a lady.

As she approached the trundle tables, her innocent demeanor intrigued him. He remembered more of the conversation he’d had with Lydon. Could she be the untried maid she pretended and Lydon insisted? It seemed impossible that someone had not bedded her, not with her face and form.

He reminded himself that nobility guarded the innocence of their daughters. Nay, he refused to believe that she was of noble birth. Not that it mattered. Her fate had been decided last night when he told Lydon to carry her to his chamber.

Satisfaction coursed through him and his blood warmed at the thought of her in his bed. Perhaps tonight.

He grinned as he remembered his irritation when Lydon crawled from his furs, Edina at his back.

“My Lord,” Lydon had said, facing him. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I cannot sleep with this innocent beside me. Nay, I’m not tempted.” He’d looked embarrassed and Garrett raised his left eyebrow in consternation.

“You will tell me why?”

Lydon turned around and looked at Edina.

Garrett grinned.

“Have others’ thoughts influenced your decision?”

Lydon nodded vigorously. Garrett chuckled.

“Edina does not think it proper, for although I am not yet married, we are betrothed,” Sir Lydon murmured.

“Ah! So the Lady Edina is the one objecting?” Garrett smiled at his friend. “You won’t mind relinquishing your responsibility then?”

Lydon shook his head then nodded. “Aye, I would not mind giving her care to another, however...”

“Take her to my room. Then the Lady Edina can relax. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of strife between you.”

Now the sudden silence in the hall drew Garrett back to the present. He followed the stares of his men to the vision who moved toward the tables.

“Find a place and break your fast, wench,” he said loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear the command. After the meal? Garrett frowned. Lydon’s words the night before raced through Garrett’s thoughts. Ladies sewed and servants did not necessarily have the time or the tools to learn the skill. If this one could sew... He refused to allow that thought more fuel.

“Can you use a needle?”

“Just a little,” she responded.

Garrett jerked to attention. So, Lydon was not correct. She obviously had been taught to sew a bit as part of her duties to the Lord of Brynn Ffrydd. Satisfied with his analysis, he leaned back in his chair and tried to ignore her.

~ * ~

Rhianna moved toward the last table in the hall, too embarrassed to respond to deShay’s query with anything but a few words. She kept her eyes on the heavy oaken planks of the floor as she walked. Fighting to control her apprehension, she slid onto a small bench at the end of the table.