Heartsong (12 page)

Garrett led the way from the castle, through the postern gate and out into the forest. Rhianna rejoiced in the pure, clear air.

The smell of wood, cut grass and horse teased her nostrils and she breathed deep, enjoying the pace Garrett set. She studied the trees, the lay of the land, locating the castle towers against the sky. After finding the sun she determined they were moving to the east. Another tidbit of information she stored away for her plan of escape.

They rode for several hours. When they turned back to the castle, Rhianna sighed with disappointment. Still, she hadn’t ridden for weeks and her muscles held a pleasant ache. A hot bath would suit. She only hoped Mildred had taken the initiative and had the tub awaiting her return.

When they rode into the yard, Garrett moved close.

“I would have you wish your brother a safe journey.”

Rhianna looked up in horror.

“A safe journey? Nay, you sa—”

He interrupted. “I said he would be about an errand for me. He will be gone for a time.”

She glared at him. Arthur couldn’t leave the castle. She needed him. However, she couldn’t tell Garrett why. She stared in agony as Arthur approached.

“He sends you away?”

“Aye. But only for a short time. Do not worry. I’ll be fine. And I will return.”

“You must not go,” Rhianna whispered.

“I have no choice. Now, say nothing more. Give me a hug and then return to the castle. Sir Lydon assured me he would protect you. You will be safe.”

“But, what of you? Will you be safe? You are Welsh. They are English,” she said, using a sweeping motion to indicate the rest of the servants in the yard.

“I’ll be safe. Do not worry so. If there is a problem, go to Sir Lydon.”

“How long? Do you know how…how long you will be gone?” Her voice broke as she questioned him.

“Mayhap two or three weeks. Not long at all.”

“Arthur, that is near eternity. You can’t go. I’ll tell deShay you cannot go.”

“You would tell him who we are? Know you, he still looks for our brothers. Is that what you would say to him? Nay, I forbid it. Think, Rhianna. I pretend to be nothing but a stable boy. I cannot object to an errand for this man. Try to understand. I have to go.”

Seven

In the morning, Rhianna stood at the window slit and watched a group of riders leave the bailey. Arthur rode with the group but she refrained from giving a signal. He seemed content to travel away from the keep, away from Knockin, away from her.

She bit her lower lip to keep from shouting her anger. He should be helping to plan an escape, not going off to do this master’s business.

Mildred appeared and announced the morning meal.

“Nay, not today. I have no wish to eat. If I tried, my throat would close.” She flopped in the high-backed chair and glared at the maid.

“Garrett will not be pleased.”

“Too bad, for I have no hunger. Mayhap I’ll refuse to eat for weeks.”

She watched Mildred jam her fists on her ample hips.

“‘Tis you being silly. All here know your brother left today. If you refuse to go below, they will think you a child, for you are acting like one.” With that reprimand, Mildred marched from the room.

Rhianna frowned. What her maid said was true. She had to go below. It would never do to let the castle folk think her behavior that of a child. It was bad enough that some still thought her a witch.

She combed her hair, rinsed her face in the now cold water Mildred had brought hours ago, and prepared to face Garrett’s anger.

“So, you finally deigned to leave the chamber.” Garrett sat at the head table, a cup of mead in his hand.

“I need to break my fast,” she offered, her voice just above a whisper.

“It is too late for that. Everyone has finished. The tables are being disassembled.”

Rhianna gazed about the hall. He spoke the truth. The servants were clearing the remnants of the meal and storing the tables for the evening meal.

“Ask Mildred to bring you some bread. Now, I’m off. I have villagers to see.”

Rhianna retreated to the room she considered hers minutes after Garrett and his men left the bailey. She had begun work on a kirtle she planned for Mildred when she heard the sound of many horses arriving in the courtyard.

For a moment cold fear rushed through her. Could Sir Moirant and Colvin have returned to the castle? She hurried to the window slit, but she could see little of the activity from her perch.

Mildred came racing into the chamber.

“You must stay here,” she exclaimed, visibly out of breath.

“Why?”

“Garrett’s sister and his betrothed have arrived. It will not do for you to meet them until Garrett returns.”

Rhianna sucked in a quick sip of air. Betrothed? Garrett was promised in marriage? A sharp, scorching pain burned through her. She had never given a thought to what future Garrett had planned for himself. Of course he would have chosen a wife. What did it matter to her? He could never mean anything to her.

Mildred took her leave and Rhianna stood at the door, listening to the sounds of trunks and boxes being dragged through the gallery. A feminine voice, harsh and whining countered a thin, hissing sound.

Rhianna leaned against the door, trying to catch their words as the women passed her chamber, but the heavy wood planks blocked enough of the sound that Rhianna could only sense their anger.

Did they know about her, about Arthur? They must.

She held her breath until she heard a door at the end of the gallery slam shut. Tension held her frozen behind the door for several long minutes, then she allowed herself to move back to a chair. She would stay hidden until Garrett returned. Her lips twisted in a smirk. How would the master of Knockin defend her presence? Or would he even try? The smirk disappeared. The thought was not a happy one.

Sewing abandoned, she considered her situation. This might be a good time for escape. Garrett would be busy with his company. But Arthur was not here. Nor could she leave without her brother, for he would undoubtedly suffer for her departure. She had to await his return.

How long she sat in the chair thinking about leaving Knockin, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. When she heard the shout from the courtyard, a sudden chill stole up her arms. Garrett had returned.

~ * ~

Garrett strode into the great hall. When his servants dashed out of his way, he knew his anger was written all over his face. No wonder. He had been furious since Lydon sent word about his visitors.

He strode to the dias and glared at his sister sitting in his chair.

“Well, Sister, what do you here? Why have you come to Knockin this time?”

“‘Twas time for a visit.” Margot smiled up at him. “After all, Garrett, you and Colvin are my brothers, this was my home. And, besides, you have no wife. I concern myself with your care and your house on occasion. Someone must. Are you not happy to see me?”

Garrett threw off his cloak and stomped toward another chair. To his disgust, he saw the woman Margot was promoting as the next mistress of Knockin standing with one of his knights.

God’s blood, how could she return with that whey-faced bitch in tow?
Nedda Fairlaine was as welcome at Knockin as the plague. During her last visit, she had counted all of his bed linens, then ordered new sets made for all the rooms.

That was bad enough, but she’d gone into the kitchen to badger the cook into preparing less meat for his men. According to Nedda they all carried too much flesh. It was pathetic, because she was more than three stones herself.

“Sister,” Garrett gritted his teeth. “I have no need to have my linens counted.” His displeasure laced every word before he sang out for a mug of ale.

Once he had the drink in his hand he turned back to Margot. “I see you have your lackey in tow. Don’t you think she caused enough trouble the last time she was here? After all, my servants don’t like orders from guests, unwanted guests at that.”

“I talked to her.” Margot cleared her throat, “She—she only wanted you to know she had the skills of a wife.”

“By alienating all of my servants?” Garrett stood up, knocking over the chair in his anger.

He had to get away from here before he said something that would really offend her.

“I must change. I have the smell of the hunt on me.”

He started up the stairs. Somehow he had to get Margot and Nedda to leave without insulting his sister. If it wasn’t for her husband, he wouldn’t be quite so concerned, but Richard Parrish had fostered him and helped him gain his spurs. Richard had feelings for Margot. In truth, Margot was his half sister and although there was little love between them, he would offer respect even though Margot had not earned much lately.

~ * ~

While Garrett bathed, Rhianna sat in the chair before the warming hearth. No one had come to the chamber since Mildred dashed in to explain why she had to wait for Garrett’s return. He had returned! So, why was she still waiting like a coward?

She shook her head, remembering the times past when she had followed her brothers without a thought to her own safety, or consequence.

She was named a captive here. Knockin was certainly not her home. If she could, she would leave, return to Wales. Why then had she stayed in this chamber waiting to be summoned? Because she didn’t want to see the woman to whom Garrett was promised. But, that was ridiculous.

She felt nothing for Garrett, could feel nothing except anger. He was responsible for her present position. He knew she didn’t belong here. He also knew she wanted to go home. So, he could explain her presence to his visitors.

Bounding from the chair, she walked to the table which held a small polished square of metal. She picked it up and studied the image staring back at her. Dark brown coils of hair twisted at each side of her head and her veil failed to cover the wisps that curled around her forehead. Her skin had paled in captivity, but her complexion was free of blemishes.

She straightened her gown and with her nose in the air, she flounced out of the room and started down the stairs. Halfway to the hall, she paused. Peering into the great room, she gazed at the two women sitting at the dias, their heads together in conversation.

Mildred came rushing up the steps.

“Oh, my Lady, nay. You must not go below. The Lord deShay is so angry. I do not know how he will react to your presence with his sister at his side. Please, ‘tis not the time to go into the great hall. Wait until the lord summons you.”

“Do you think I will stay in my chamber so the Lord can save face? Oh, nay! He dragged me away from my home. He can introduce me to the ladies in the hall.” Rhianna glared at Mildred then skipped down the remaining stairs.

~ * ~

Garrett had just returned to table, when movement at the bottom of the stairway drew his attention. Before he saw her, he sensed Rhianna’s presence. A soft curse passed his lips. He didn’t need her here. Another woman, especially a Welshwoman, would have Margot’s anger boiling. She would reaffirm her intent to stay because only she could supervise his home, not some prisoner from a recent battle.

He turned toward the beauty poised at the bottom of the stairs. Margot and her friend were forgotten as he looked his fill. This woman occupied his senses as no other woman ever had, her head tilted, her nose in the air, holding herself as if she were a queen. Garrett felt his blood grow warm with want.

God’s blood, he ached to take her in his arms and bury himself in her. With an almost inhuman pain, he needed to kiss her, to feel her writhe beneath him. He grimaced at the thought, then heaped another barrage of curses on himself. What had she done to him, this Welsh witch?

Margot’s clearing throat reminded him of his unwanted guests. He didn’t want to explain the tension that now filled the chamber.

“Margot,” he said, turning to his older half sister. “There is nothing for you here. You have a home. You are needed there.”

“Nay, Brother,” Margot insisted, glaring at him. “We must take our rest here. We have traveled for several days and we are both exhausted. Why, you cannot mean to ask us to leave for at least a week?”

Garrett sighed and nodded, then watched as Rhianna walked toward them.

“Garrett, who is that?” Margot frowned at him and then turned her attention to Rhianna.

Garrett scowled. Margot Parrish might be willing to obey her husband, but here at Knockin she still played at being the mistress she once had tried to be. She also relished the part of older, all-knowing sister.

Sweet Jesu, nor had she ever learned to cover up her feelings. Her displeasure at another woman’s presence, one she didn’t know, was writ all over her face.

“You mean the woman walking into the hall? Didn’t Colvin tell you about the woman I brought back from Wales? After Colvin’s rantings on the battlefield, I thought he surely would send you word about my witch. However, Colvin had it wrong. She is nothing more than a maid from ap Brynn Ffrydd. Don’t look so upset, Sister, I doubt that she can curse anything.”
Except me.

“What is she doing here?”

Garrett grimaced. He bristled at the tone in Margot’s voice. How much he wanted to pack her up and send her back to Richard tomorrow, no matter how tired she claimed to be.

He fought a sudden grin, certain his answer would upset her.

“She is here because I want her here. I brought her here for my pleasure.”

“Garrett! Please,” Margot snapped, her straight black brows arched above her wide gray eyes. “Think of Nedda.”