Love Everlasting (31 page)

“I judge three weeks at the soonest.”

“Thank you for being honest,” she said after
a moment to recover from her disappointment. “You may tell Royce
that William and I promise we will hold the castle until he comes.
We may have to gather the last of the chickens and a cow or two in
the great hall, but whatever else happens, I don’t think Kenric and
his friends can take the keep.”

“Eat the chickens first,” Michael advised,
his smile a flash of white teeth in the shadows, “and plan for a
serious spring cleaning once this is over.”

Julianna inserted the key that opened the
postern door. It turned easily in the lock, but the door creaked as
it swung open. Julianna winced at the sound.

“Order those hinges oiled in case you need to
use the door again.” Michael’s whisper barely stirred the air at
her ear. “Fare you well, my lady.”

“God keep you till we return,” Brian
added.

“Go safely,” she whispered. “I will pray for
you.”

Michael lifted the small wooden boat and
Brian took the oars. In complete silence they lowered the boat into
the moat and climbed in. Julianna heard the oars slip into the
water. She delayed closing the door, wanting to offer them a speedy
return if they were discovered.

She needn’t have worried. William’s timing
was impeccable. From the south side of the castle came a gushing
sound, followed by screams. Then, suddenly, the waters of the moat
reflected the glare of flame. Frightened, she leaned out of the
postern doorway to search for Michael and Brian. She couldn’t find
them. They were gone, heading for the river while attention was
directed elsewhere. Julianna knew they’d have to lift the boat and
carry it across land for a short distance, but she dared to hope
that the chaos William was creating would permit them to slip away
unnoticed.

She knew what William was doing. He had
explained to her how he was going to order several vats of boiling
kitchen fats and oils poured from the battlements onto the men who
were busy at their nightly chore of chipping away at the loosened
mortar in the southern wall. From the fire still lighting the moat
at that side of the castle and the occasional screams still issuing
from that area, Julianna guessed that someone, either acting on his
own or at William’s command, had heightened the confusion by
tossing a burning torch down onto the remnants of the oil. The
thought made her feel ill, until she reminded herself of what
Kenric and his companions would do to Michael and Brian, should
they be caught.

Before closing and locking the postern door
she said a quick prayer for those two brave emissaries to Royce,
and added another word for those still within the castle walls, for
she was certain that Kenric and his companions meant to see
everyone inside Wortham dead.

In his private chamber in Northampton Castle,
Royce had no need to decode the last letter that Michael handed to
him. It was written in clear Norman French.

My dearest lord, Julianna wrote, Michael will
tell you better than I could how Wortham is besieged, and by whom.
William is doing all he can to defend us, and neither of us will
surrender to Kenric or to any of his friends. Take great care for
your own life, which I fear Kenric’s associates mean to steal from
you by trickery. Please, my lord, come as quickly as you can, for
you are sorely needed here.

Julianna, Lady of Wortham.

Royce refolded the parchment, noting that his
hands were trembling slightly. In the hour since Michael and Brian
had arrived, they had between them provided full details of the
situation at Wortham. They were seated at the table across from
Royce, and both of them were eating with all the fervor of starving
men. At Wortham, there was by now no cold roast beef, or cheese,
and precious little bread, either. Julianna was going hungry. Royce
clenched his fists.

“You say you left four days ago?” he asked,
seeking an answer he already knew while he struggled to think
clearly through the growing fog of anger and fear that threatened
to becloud his mind until he was useless to aid his wife or his
people. He could not allow himself to be overcome by emotion, not
until Julianna - and Wortham - were rescued.

“Aye, we spent four days on the road.”
Michael swallowed a morsel of bread. “We’d have been here sooner,
but the heavy rain slowed us.”

“I’m surprised you reached me as fast as you
did.” Unable to tolerate inaction for another moment, Royce stood
and began to pace around the room. With the movement his thoughts
settled and he began to plan with his usual attention to details.
“I will leave for Wortham at dawn tomorrow.”

“Can you gather enough men so quickly?”
Michael asked.

“Forty of my own knights and men-at-arms are
quartered here at Northampton. I have only to give the word and
they’ll be ready to leave within an hour or two. Cadwallon has an
equal number of his own men. I’ll send riders ahead to Arden at
Bowen Manor and to Braedon at Sutton Castle, asking them to join me
along the way, each with thirty or forty men, all of them mounted.
Baggage carts and food supplies can follow at a slower pace,
guarded by foot soldiers.”

“That should be a sufficient army.” Michael’s
eyes gleamed with excitement. “I am going with you.”

“So am I,” Brian added over a mouthful of
cold roast beef.

“Are you fit to ride?” Royce asked them.

“More fit than some of those we left inside
Wortham,” Michael said.

“Far more fit than the besiegers will be when
we are finished with them,” Brian added his opinion with youthful
enthusiasm.

“We won’t slow you down,” Michael promised,
his firm tone effectively ending the discussion.

“Get some rest,” Royce ordered them. “I am
going to find Cadwallon and then speak to King Henry.”

At Wortham, a week after Michael and Brian
had gone almost no food was left, though the supply of clean water
did not falter. That was a blessing, for water was needed in great
quantities to put out frequent fires.

The besiegers had taken to shooting flaming
arrows over the walls of the outer bailey. The archers, who were
positioned at the edge of the moat, were protected against
answering missles from the battlements by a wooden framework that
they had covered with water-soaked animal hides. The arrows of the
defenders merely bounced off this clever and effective
construction. The arrows were then gathered up and reused against
the castle. Fearing an eventual shortage of arrows, William ordered
his archers to desist unless they could be absolutely certain of a
killing shot.

Inside the walls, the great hall had been
converted to an infirmary. The numbers of burns, cuts and bruises,
and, worst of all, serious arrow wounds, mounted daily. Julianna,
Alice, and Etta were kept busy treating the injured. They had
organized the maidservants to help, and many young women worked
double shifts in both hall and kitchen.

In such a dangerous situation the children
needed to be kept indoors and protected, and this duty Blenda and
Linnet had undertaken. Julianna granted them the use of two empty
guest rooms located high in the keep near the nursery. There the
two women gathered all of the children, those who belonged to the
village as well as the castle.

“Surely, they will be safe there,” Linnet
said to Julianna. “My mother and I will guard them with our very
lives.”

Fearing the day would come when the young
ones would require a sturdier protector, Julianna besought William
for a single man-at-arms to stand guard.

“You may use Baldwin,” William said after
only a moment’s thought. “He is the oldest of the men-at-arms and
he took an arrow in his thigh on the third day of the siege. It’s
healing well enough that he’s eager to see action again, but he
won’t be able to fight at full strength for at least another
week.”

“Yes, I remember Baldwin,” Julianna said.
“What a good idea to assign him to an important task that won’t
require too much physical strength.”

Baldwin, grey of hair and beard and very
tough, was not happy with his new orders. He sulked for the first
few days, though he performed his duties with punctilious care.

“He is mellowing,” Alice reported to Julianna
one morning. “Who would have guessed that a hardened old warrior
would love children? And they love him. He has even the most
rambunctious boys well under his control, which leaves the girls
for Linnet. But I am worried about Blenda. The deprivations of a
siege are always hardest on the old. She doesn’t look well.”

“I’ll check on her later,” Julianna promised.
But then, when a fresh batch of men suffering from arrow wounds and
burns presented themselves in the hall, Blenda faded from her
mind.

The next day, Baldwin sought her out.

“You’d best come now, my lady,” the
man-at-arms said in a tone that permitted no delay. “Old Blenda is
having difficulty breathing, and I don’t think she ought to be with
the children. I told her to go to bed, but she won’t listen to me,
nor to Linnet, either. I fear she’s developed lung fever. I’ve seen
it before.”

So had Julianna seen lung fever. Sometimes
called the old man’s friend because it led to a speedy and peaceful
death, it was the ailment that had finally taken the life of Deane
of Craydon, carrying him off before the painful chronic disease
from which he had suffered for years could kill him.

When Julianna followed Baldwin up the stairs
to the nursery, she found Blenda seated on a stool with her back
against the wall. The elderly woman’s face was pale save for the
red flush on each cheek that bespoke a high fever. Her skin was hot
and dry. More significantly, her breathing was shallow and
harsh.

Julianna recognized the fatal symptoms at
once and when her gaze met Baldwin’s, she saw that he, too,
understood that Blenda did not have long to live. In Blenda’s
condition Julianna saw the beginnings of the various diseases that
would race through the castle, felling the weak and elderly first,
then the very young and, finally, the strong warriors. The
besiegers needed only to wait until hunger and illness made the
castle an easy prize for them to take.

Meanwhile, Baldwin began to deal with the
immediate practicalities.

“She’s been sleeping there,” he said,
pointing to a narrow cot that was pushed into a corner of the room.
“If we pile cushions behind her back so she can sit up, that will
help her breathing a little. She cannot stay on that stool until
the end.”

“No, of course not,” Julianna agreed. “Lift
her onto the cot. I’ll roll up a pallet so she can lean against
that until I find some extra pillows. Where is Linnet?”

“With the children.” Baldwin scooped Blenda
into his arms and with careful gentleness deposited her on the cot.
Then he headed for the door. “I’ll take over for Linnet, so she can
be here.”

“Thank you, Baldwin.” Julianna was so
preoccupied with Blenda that she scarcely noticed when the
man-at-arms left. Still, she was not surprised to see one of the
kitchen boys come through the door a short time later, carrying a
scoop filled with charcoal for the brazier. The nursery was already
comfortably warm, but Baldwin apparently understood the need to
maintain a steady heat for Blenda’s sake. Linnet arrived soon
after.

“She refused to eat this morning,” Linnet
said, moving with a quick step to the edge of the cot, where she
sat and took her mother’s thin hand in both of hers. “Baldwin says
you agree with him that it’s lung fever.”

“Aye,” Blenda whispered before Julianna could
speak. “I know it. I won’t keep ye from yer daily work for long, my
lady.”

“Oh, Blenda.” Julianna sat next to Linnet and
put an arm around her shoulders, feeling how they shook with
repressed grief. “You and Linnet have been such a help to us,
especially during this dreadful siege.”

“Ye’ll take care of Linnet after I’m gone?”
Blenda asked.

“I promise I will, and Royce will back my
promise.” Julianna saw no reason to deny what they all knew would
soon happen. “Linnet is welcome to stay here in the castle, and she
will always have useful work.”

“That’s all right, then. I cannot ask for
more.” Blenda coughed, but she gave Julianna a weak smile. “Linnet
will care for yer babe when it comes.”

“You know? How wise you are. And how good
you’ve been to the children.” Julianna took Blenda’s hot, withered
hand. “You will want a few moments alone with Linnet. Would you
like me to find Father Aymon?”

“Aye.” Blenda coughed again, harder this
time.

“I’ll send him right away,” Julianna
promised. “Then I’ll stop in the kitchen for some warm broth to
ease your throat.”

“Don’t waste good food on me,” Blenda
whispered. “Not now. Give it to the children.”

Julianna had just stepped out of the nursery
and had paused to wipe away a tear when Father Aymon arrived.

“Baldwin sent one of the boys to fetch me,”
the priest explained.

Blenda died an hour later, confessed,
shriven, and at peace, with her daughter holding her hand. Linnet
and Julianna washed her and wrapped her in the shroud that Father
Aymon provided from his supply. Then, since all the other men were
occupied on the castle walls or lying wounded in the great hall,
Baldwin lifted the frail weight in his brawny arms and carried
Blenda down to the crypt. Julianna, Alice, Linnet, and most of the
children followed, to cluster just outside the entrance where the
air was cleaner, while Father Aymon recited a prayer for the repose
of Blenda’s soul.

“We are fast running out of space,” Father
Aymon said to Julianna after the others had departed. “If the siege
doesn’t end soon, the only place remaining that’s cool enough to
receive this sad storage will be the cold room where the milk,
cheeses, and butter are kept. It is all but empty, now.”