Queen of Lost Stars (Dragonblade Series/House of St. Hever) (28 page)

Dolwyd was up, his old body moving faster than it should have. “De Dalyn, you are a madman! Your wound is festering with poison!”

Nicholas waved the old man off. “It is doing no such thing. I feel much better, truly.”

Dolwyd eyed him with a great deal of suspicion. He knew immediately what he was up to. “I would wager to guess that this feeling of abundant health came over you the moment St. Hèver left the gates.”

Nicholas shrugged carelessly. “I wouldn’t know when, exactly, he left in order to correctly answer your assessment.”

“You pretended to be ill when he came to see you just before he left!”

“I have pretended nothing.”

“You wanted him to leave his wife here without protection, vulnerable to your advances!”

“You are imagining things, Dolwyd.”

The old man wasn’t fooled for a moment. “Whether or not I am, I’ll tell you what Kaspian told you; if you value your life, you’ll leave Lady Madelayne alone.”

Nicholas was quite innocent. “Dolwyd, your mind is running away with you. Have some more wine and calm yourself.”

The physic batted at the pitcher in Nicholas’ outstretched hand. “I’ll do no such thing!” He reached down and practically yanked Madelayne to her feet. “My lady, we will retreat to your chamber immediately.”

Nicholas watched the pair over the rim of his goblet. “By the Devil’s Beard, Dolwyd, I won’t bite. Sit and finish your drink, both of you.”

Dolwyd pulled Madelayne away, so she was lodged behind him. “Take your meal and return to bed, de Dalyn. You are not a well man.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then you should be on the road with St. Hèver and not lollygagging around here.”

Nicholas merely cocked an eyebrow at him, watching the old man practically yank Madelayne from the hall. Things hadn’t gone exactly as he had planned, but there was plenty of time now that Kaspian was away on a quest to regain his fortress. The thought occurred to him that Dolwyd might send word to Kaspian of Nicholas’ miraculous recovery, but he doubted the old man had the courage to do it. Still, something told him to be alert.

His instincts were correct; Nicholas captured the messenger the moment the man left the gates and tied him, exposed to the elements, to a tree on the outskirts of the castle. To be certain, it was necessary, as he had a plan to finally gain his wishes once and for all, a plan that involved separating Lady St. Hèver from her new husband.

Kaspian St Hèver stood in the way of all Nicholas wanted and he was tired of waiting. He had to rid himself of the man. Being very clever, and ambitiously evil, Nicholas knew what he had to do. He knew what would make the lady turn against her husband.

And Kaspian would not be here to defend himself.

Or her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next day

“I
won’t take
you, I say!” Dolwyd shouted. “You are mad! Kaspian will have my head if I allow you to do this… this
folly
!”

Madelayne was patient in the face of his tantrum. “It is not a folly,” she said patiently. “I merely wish to go into town and purchase a wedding band for him as a surprise. We talked about it right before he left. He said he would wear one and I intend to purchase one for him. You may escort me into town or you may stay here. It makes no difference to me.”

Dolwyd was about to have a stroke. His face was red and his veins bulged. “You’ll not go alone!” he croaked. “De Kirk will send an army with you if you go into town!”

“So be it.”

“And how do you intend to pay for these gains? You have no money!”

“I will promise that my husband will send them the money. Kaspian St. Hèver’s name should be good enough.”

Madelayne watched Dolwyd grumble and stomp. Clad in an emerald brocade gown that swished along the floor as she walked, she turned to the too-big slippers courtesy of her hostess. “And I must have some gowns made as well, considering we do not know how long we will be at Kirk and I have imposed on my hostess far too much already.”

“Not to mention she is taller and fatter than you are.”

“Dolwyd, how cruel.”

The physic knew there was no talking her out of her trip. It was a bright spring morning, and somewhat warm, which was rare in these parts, and Madelayne had awoken full of vinegar and fire. Perhaps it was the fact that her husband was gone and her anxiety was shadowing her manner, but Dolwyd thought perhaps she was unsteady from the knowledge that de Dalyn was up and about. Only last night they had seen him, but already, the tension was palpable. It seemed that Madelayne was determined to put distance between herself and the castle where Nicholas stalked.

Not that he could blame her. Sighing, the old man threw up his hands in resignation. “I’ll tell de Kirk, then. We’ll have an escort for you within the hour if you are determined to do this foolish thing.”

Madelayne smiled prettily for him, but he would have no part of it. He waved his hands at her as he headed for the door.

“Do not use your charms on me, Lady St. Hèver,” he scolded. “Your husband may succumb like a weakling to you, but I do not.”

She continued to smile at him, mocking him. “Thank you, Dolwyd, ever so much.”

He growled at her as he left the chamber. In precisely an hour, Madelayne was in the bailey, greeted by a twenty-man escort bearing the colors of Edward. All were Lavister men who had assumed their duty to their liege’s new wife. Lord de Kirk didn’t say much to her even though he was in the ward; she was coming to think that the man thought she and the people from Lavister were a load of trouble. He was right. She was almost embarrassed to look him in the eye for all of the nuisance they had caused. Mounting a small, gray palfrey, she took her place amongst the escort and followed them from the great ward.

The landscape outside of the castle walls was starting to come to life with various shades of green. The rain that had pounded the area for the past several weeks had ended and now the land was beginning to show signs of growth. The day was bright and the sun gave off a slight amount of warmth, making travel pleasant.

Dolwyd plodded along behind her on his old horse, a beast that she was sure was as old as Dolwyd himself. She could feel his angry stare on her back but she ignored him soundly; the old man hated any inconvenience, any stir from the routine of the ordinary, and she would not indulge his displeasure. Truth be told, she was eager to pass the time in any way possible until Kaspian’s return. And Nicholas’ presence at Kirk was as good a reason as any for her to put distance between her and the castle.

The town of Kirk was rather large, butting up against the castle and filled with streets and structures. But it was a dirty town with dirty streets, too many people wandering about their business. As the sun warmed the air, the gutters stank and homeless dogs huddled under wagons and in doorways.

Oddly enough, the bright day only seemed to emphasize the dreariness of the town. As the troop from the castle entered the berg, the peasants looked at them as if they were straight from the bowels of hell. It was like a town full of ignorants and Madelayne was the slightest bit uncomfortable. She could hear Dolwyd behind her, cursing her stubbornness.

Deeper into town was a wider street with several merchant shops. These people seemed friendlier and Madelayne immediately found a shop with bolts of fabric from France and beyond. With pleasure, she examined the satins and brocades, and the yards of damask that were both heavy and fragile at the same time. The man who ran the shop had a wife who sewed and, after much haggling, Madelayne commissioned the woman to make her four gowns, promising her a more than fair price should she deliver the gowns within the next couple of days.

Proceeding to the rear of the shop, the woman and her daughter-in-law took Madelayne’s measurements and made a great fuss over her beautiful figure. But it was painful for her when they measure her bust line, engorged and bound in an attempt to dry up her milk. Standing there with her arms raised as they worked was a surreal experience; Madelayne thought that her dead child and life with Cairn seemed like it had happened a lifetime ago. This new life she was experiencing was something overwhelming and fantastic, but something wonderful and rich with a man she loved as opposed to a comfortable life with a man she was simply fond of. Love, she discovered, made all of the difference in the world.

Perhaps the queen of the lost stars, and lost souls, wasn’t so lost anymore.

Perhaps she had finally found her way, after all.

When the measurements were finished and the deal made, Madelayne thanked the merchant and moved on. There were several farmers selling early spring produce, a baker with great loaves of brown currant bread, and a woman selling dried flowers. Cruising the entire street with her escort in tow, she was disappointed to realize there was no jeweler, only a metalworker. Upon discussions with the man, however, she discovered that he could work steel into a thick, lovely band for Kaspian and add semi-precious stones to it. But Madelayne didn’t think stones suited him at all, so she asked the man to work two rings, identical, one for her and one for him. She wanted something for her husband, even if it was a steel ring, to announce to the world their bond of marriage. She began to think it was rather like branding him.

The thought made her giggle. In fact, they
were
branding each other.

With her shopping done, so was the day. Already the sun was passing into the early afternoon and it was time to return home. The soldiers were eager to return, of course, bored silly with having escorted St. Hèver’s wife on a shopping trip. Madelayne was preparing to mount her palfrey even as the soldiers were moving out. Everyone was so focused on the road ahead and making it home before the evening meal that they failed to notice, out of twenty-one men, that Lady St. Hèver neglected to mount her horse as expected. Instead, something caught her attention and she immediately wandered off.

It was a small hovel next to the metalworker’s shed. The words above the door were worn and barely legible, but the symbol was big and recognizable. A star, it was, indicating fortunes and she grinned at the thought of a fortune teller. Perhaps to divine her future with Kaspian? She was more than intrigued. Madelayne ducked into the doorway, entering a dark room that stank with an herb that set her to sneezing.

Her sneezing brought a quick response. From a crouched position beside the smoking hearth, a wild gray head snapped up.

“Bones, bones!” the old woman cackled.

Madelayne came to an uncertain halt. She eyed the woman, barely visible in the dark light. “Pardon?” she asked.

The woman struggled up from her knees, an old stick in her hand from poking at the embers. “Ye come for the bones, missy!”

Madelayne suddenly felt very foolish and perhaps the least bit intimidated. She had always been far too level headed for this nonsense, now wondering why she had even come. “Nay,” she said softly, backing for the door. “I… I have changed my mind.”

The old woman grasped her arm with bony fingers. “Ye came for the bones, missy. I can see it in yer eyes. Ye want tae know!”

Madelayne found herself gazing into one milky eye, one good one. The face was as old as time. The old crone yanked at her, pulling her deeper into the room. “Come along, come along. I’ll tell ye what ye’ve come tae know!”

Madelayne weakly tried to pull away. “Truly, I do not wish to know anything. I already….”

The woman pulled hard on her, forcing her to the ground before the hearth. “Sit!” she commanded. Hobbling to a bag hanging on the wall against numerous other divining implements, she yanked it off the wall, opened the strings, and sank to her knees across from Madelayne. She stared at Madelayne closely as she dug into the bag for its contents.

“Give me yer finger,” she croaked.

Madelayne hesitated before gingerly holding out her right hand. The old woman snatched it, pricking her index finger with something from the bag. Madelayne yelped as the woman squeezed drops of blood onto the dirt before them. Then, she spit into the mix.

“Ah,” the old crone said as she stirred the dirt and spit and blood with a dirty fingernail. “I can see ye now. Ye’re the queen of loss, lady. Ye’ve had much loss in yer life. I see many lost souls around ye, like stars in the heavens. But ye’ve held yerself strong. Ye’ve learned tae endure.”

Madelayne looked at the old woman with a mixture of fear and awe. God’s Bones, wasn’t that what her mother had said once? That the lost souls were the stars in the heavens? Madelayne began to feel very uncomfortable that this woman should immediately pick up on such a thing with her. Was it so obvious? Was she truly the queen of all that was lost? Frightened, she stood up.

“I should not have come,” she said, turning for the door. “You cannot tell me what I do not already know. I do not want to….”

The old woman cut her off. “Ye love him now,” she said before Madelayne could escape. “Ye love him now and ye feel guilty. Never feel the guilt; ye’ve earned what ye have. Ye’ve endured enough.”

Madelayne paused by the door, turning to look at the old woman, who was still on her knees in the dirt, fingers swirling in the spit and blood. It was so very odd what the woman had said and leadingly prophetic. It set Madelayne to pondering her very urge to enter the hovel; if this woman could see so much, perhaps there was reason for her to be there. Perhaps the fates were trying to tell her something. As foolish as it seemed, perhaps there was something the old woman could tell her, something she didn’t already know.