The Dark Lady (7 page)

Dr. Burgess smiled weakly, but it faded quickly from his trembling lips. Van knew he loved her mother and that this must be very hard on him. Paul had been with Patricia since Van was born according to the stories they told. Her death would be devastating to the man. He not only loved her, he worshiped her.

Richard remained bent with her frail hand in his massive warrior’s paw. “My dear, it would have been my great pleasure to rut with you. I still would not mind if I did not think it would push you over the edge.”

With a racking cough that brought Van to her side, she laughed. “Oh, but what a way to go.” She took in a deep gurgling breath and coughed again.

Van pulled Richard away from her side with a look of reprimand. “All right, mother. That is too much. I don’t think I can handle any more of that. Nay, let us just talk.”

Van’s shaking hands stopped midway to taking off the black helm when Patricia blurted out. “Your father came to see me.”

“
What?” Van’s eyes jerked to her mother. As a child Van had shuddered at the mere mention of her father. That fear had driven her to practice obsessively with a sword and dagger in order to protect herself and her mother. As her skills increased the fear slowly ebbed and, in its place, anger took seed.

“
He wants to see you. I told him we would send him a message when you arrived. I agreed to send you to him.” Patricia struggled with another deep gurgling breath.

Van blamed her father for putting her mother in this position. The hairs tingled on the back of her neck and her stomach twisted and cramped as the anger blossomed within her, sending its deadly shoots into her every nerve.

“
He has arranged a marriage for you.”

“
Mother, please. You cannot be serious. You expect me to go back to my father? You expect me to be married?” Van’s breath became shallow and nervous tension threatened to tear apart all her well-practiced control. Van’s eyes darted nervously from Patricia to Dr. Paul. “Paul, tell me she is...confused now.”

“
No. I am afraid not.”

Van felt out of control. The swirling emotions were getting harder to ignore. She concentrated on the anger because it was the easiest. It was not weak. Fear and pain were useless and weak. She refused to allow herself to feel those emotions.

Van looked down. She was still in full battle garb and the chain mail hauberk glinted in the sun coming through the window of the small room. Most of the blood had been washed away at the small stream where they had rested their mounts in the frantic rush to get to her mother’s side, but it was still apparent. Van rubbed at the large blood stain and tried to regain her composure.

Patricia Fordella smiled and whispered so low that Van had to drop down beside her bed to hear her. “This is my last wish. I want you to marry. I want grandchildren.” She coughed deeply, a thick wet sound as breath wheezed in and out of her lungs. “I may never get to see them, but I want them.”

Van’s mother slipped farther away with each labored breath. “Your father has changed. He now has two sons and he wants to make up for the past. Please, love. Let your mother die happy. Promise me.” Her voice was a bare wisp. Her eyes closed.

“
Yes, Mother,” Van answered reluctantly through gritted teeth. Patricia’s voice became nothing more than soft breath on Van’s cheek. The words were more felt than heard as she leaned in close to her overly-warm face.

“
Thank you. I love you...” Van strained to hear her fading words. Patricia sighed. “You will make a good wife, a good mother.”

CHAPTER 4

Van watched helplessly as her mother’s eyes drifted shut. The hard metal of her protective chest plate did nothing to stop the pain that invaded her heart as she pulled the limp, frail body against her. Tears stinging her eyes, she felt for the breath that no longer filled her mother’s sickened lungs. She held the lifeless body tightly to her and took a slow deep breath against her mother’s hair.

The sweet smell of roses that had always surrounded her mother had been replaced by the pungent aroma of sickness. Van had always loved the smell of her mother. It had made her feel like she was home the way nothing else ever had. The chest plate suddenly seemed too tight and much too heavy.

Van trembled. She could feel the hot knot of tears swelling, but refused to allow their escape. She took shallow, gulping breaths around the lump that had lodged in her throat and with each labored breath she shoved her tears away.

She pushed away the pain, burying it deep inside, where she had hidden her feelings ever since she was little.

Dr. Burgess gave her a gentle shake. “Van...”

Van couldn’t respond. She was not in control and her breathing was still labored. She did not trust herself to speak.

“
Van.” He gave a more urgent shake. “Van, let me see to her.”

Vanessa Fordella, who thought of herself as Sir Burgess, The Dark Knight, Van—but never Vanessa—gently laid her mother down onto the bed. Tears swam in her eyes blurring her vision, but she refused to release them. Her heart still thudded within the tightness of her chest, but her breathing was calm and her armor no longer threatened to crush her to her knees.

Richard grasped her arm. “Van...come. Let the doctor see her.” She didn’t resist as he pulled her away from the bed. He stood beside Van for only a moment before laying a comforting arm across her shoulders.

Van leaned into him, allowing the heavy arm to give her strength. The deep throbbing pain in her chest ebbed a little at a time until all that was left was a controllable ache.

Van watched as Dr. Burgess felt Patricia’s neck for a pulse before gently covering her, head and all. He bowed his head and silent tears fell, staining the white sheet.

Taking a deep breath that shuddered through his wide frame, he turned to Van. Pain swirled in his aging face and she struggled to remember when he had gotten so old. Her mother’s illness had taken its toll on him.

“
Do you want me to take her?” Dr. Burgess asked pointing to the small girl on the pallet, her long blonde hair still hiding her face. She hadn’t made even a sound.

Van’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she watched the motionless girl. It was a long time for someone to stay unconscious from passing out. Too long, she thought.

“
Nay, I’ve got her.” Van had to do something, anything to keep her mind off the loss of not only her mother, but also the loss of the man who stood loyally by her side.

Van glanced at Richard’s concerned face and sighed. She didn’t want to lose him, but she knew there was no choice.

If it had only been her mother’s wish that she marry, she would have stood her ground and refused, but it was more than that. Van had known for some time that she would not be able to portray a man much longer.

She should have left long ago, but had not been able to bring herself to do so.

Richard’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She looked away from him as a sharp pain stung deep in her chest. She could not picture her life without her men.

The tears she had been fighting surged like a swollen river on the verge of breaking loose from the confining banks of her self-control. Reluctant to feel Richard’s heavy arm slip from her shoulders, she nonetheless stepped away. She knew it was time.

Dr. Burgess stepped toward her. He was one, of only two people, to know who Van really was. He had played the biggest role in making sure everyone believed she was a little boy.

“
Van,” Dr. Burgess said gently. “It is not good to hold everything in, let it out. Keeping things locked inside will just cause a breakdown. Even a man has to let go, to show feelings sometimes.”

Giving him a weak smile, she said, “I have too much to do to break down. Perhaps later. For now, I need to get a message to my father. Tell him I am ready. I am assuming you know where to send it?”

“
Aye, I know how to get in touch with him. It will take a couple of days to get to his estates, then a couple of days for your father’s men to get here. So if all goes well you will have four or five days before they come for you.”

“
Good, take care of it and take care of Mother’s arrangements.”

Dr. Burgess walked out of the room with one last tearful look from the doorway. Van watched till he was gone then turned her now dry eyes to Richard.

This would be the hardest thing she had ever had to face and she didn’t know if she could manage it. She looked at him and steeled her heart the best she could. It was best to just get it over with, like pulling an arrow from your arm—the quicker the better.

“
I need you to take the men. Find a Lord who will take you in. You are now in charge, but you will still need a place to stay.” She ignored the worried look on her friend’s face, mostly because she could not deal with the guilt of leaving her men. “Winter is coming on and with Eolian out there, joining forces with someone will be a good thing.”

“
You knew that you would not be coming with me before we left the camp.” Richard said slowly. “That was what that speech was about.”

Van felt Richard’s eyes bore into her. “I have to take care of this with my father.” She heard the soft cracking in her voice and prayed that Richard did not.

Richard heard the pain in Van’s voice and wanted to offer him comfort, but knew the proud young man would not accept it. He shook his head and tried to smile. It felt wrong so he let it drop away. “You will be careful. Are you certain you do not want us with you?”

Van straightened his shoulders almost defiantly. “Nay, I am not a scared boy anymore, not like I once was. I can take care of myself.”

Richard had no doubts that Van could indeed take care of himself, but he still did not want to see him go. He had spent many years with the boy, first at the castle, then when Van had served under him as squire, and finally as men-at-arms when Van had received the honor of knighthood.

They had spent endless nights talking of anything and everything. He had grown to love the stubborn boy and still loved the arrogant man.

He grasped Van’s arm. It was not the embrace that his liege needed, but he knew it was all the support that Van would accept.

Van surprised him when he reached up and grasped his wrist with a weak smile. Gratitude shone in the normally emotionless eyes. Richard thought of the last time he had seen that look and was suddenly no longer in the warm and cozy cottage as memories of the past swept him away...

***

Wind howled around Richard and the rain pelted down at him as he sat at his guard post. He pulled the thick cloak up around his head and cursed the awful night. Movement to his right brought him lurching to his feet and drawing his broadsword. The rain and cold was forgotten as he prepared himself for a confrontation.

Van stepped calmly through a curtain of rain, glanced at the sword, and stopped.

“
You know pages are not allowed out of the barracks at night.” Richard’s voice was gruff, but not as mean as he had wanted it to come out. He grunted. “What are you doing here, boy?”

“
I could not sleep.” Van’s gaze followed the sword as Richard slid it back into its scabbard then his gaze came to rest on his face.

Richard nodded his head.

“
I needed to talk to you.”

Van’s voice trembled and his body shook, but Richard was sure it was from more than just the cold.

He and Van had spent many nights talking and had grown close over the two years that Van had been at the castle. He had learned to pick up on the boy’s subtle signs of his moods. Right now Van was scared. He could see it in the way his eyes shifted and in the way his body tensed. Yes, he could see the fear, but he knew the boy would never admit to having it.

Richard also knew that he should send him back, but Van had suffered the icy fingers of the frozen night to find him and he could not bring himself to turn the shivering child away. Carefully, Richard lowered himself onto the wet log and pulled his cloak around his head once more.

He looked up at the boy who stood patiently waiting in the pouring rain. His eyes were dark and emotionless, but Richard could almost feel the tension thrumming through him.

He opened the cloak in invitation. “Sit.” Van sat obediently on the log beside him and Richard pulled his cloak around the boy’s head to keep as much of the rain off of him as he could.

One thing he had learned about Van was that you didn’t push him. Van had sought him out for a reason. Richard held his curiosity at bay and waited. He knew that Van would speak when he was ready.

Van looked up at him twice before finally speaking. “I had a nightmare about my father.”

Richard looked closely at Van, but the boy just stared down at his sodden feet. “Dr. Burgess?” he asked gently. Dr. Burgess had been the one to drop him off at the castle. If his mother had been with them she had chosen to remain in the carriage. Richard had not pictured the good doctor as someone who caused nightmares.

“
He is not my father.” Van’s dark gaze jerked to Richard’s face and he was sure that Van had spoken without thinking. For most subjects that was normal for the rash boy, but for his life outside the castle and his past it was unusual. He was always very guarded about his personal life.

“
Who is?” Richard asked trying to keep the shock out of his voice.