The Annals of Wynnewood Complete Series

by Chautona Havig

  “That’s it? Oh, Philip will be so disappointed.”

  “Wait, there’s more.”

  Dove’s wry voice was barely heard from within the depths of her hood. “Of course, there is.”

  Her host chose to ignore her sarcasm and continued. “It is said that a unicorn is the guardian of the forest— the champion of a good lord’s lands. I have heard of them being tamed into loyal friendship with man, but if betrayed, they respond with swift deadly force.”

  “I thought you were going to say that submitting to the young girl’s ministrations rendered them helpless. At least they aren’t weak.”

  “You despise weakness, do you?”

  Shaking her head, Dove chewed faster so as not to talk around her food. Bertha had trained her well in the simple courtesy of not sharing one’s meal after it entered one’s mouth. “I—” she took a deep drink of the ale. “I just didn’t like to think of such a majestic-sounding animal reduced to weakness by a silly girl.”

  “Why does Philip want to tame a unicorn?”

  An awkward silence settled between them until, at last, Dove capitulated. “For Lord Morgan. Philip wants to give him as a gift to Lord Morgan.”

  “And what does the Lord of Wynnewood want with a unicorn?” Eyes narrowed, the little man looked suspicious.

  “We just overheard him talking about how his grandfæder had a pet unicorn and how he wanted one. Philip wanted to do something for him.”

  “My fæder did not think well of Lord Morgan’s fæder. Galbert Morgan was a hard man and a selfish one.”

  “The present Earl of Wynnewood is not like that. He is good to his people.” In a quieter tone, she added, “He’s been very good to me.”

  “You saved his daughter; even Galbert Morgan might show some gratitude. Then again,” Jakys hastened to add, “you said Lord Morgan thinks well of your friend.”

  “Oh, he does. He asked Broðor Clarke to teach Philip when the fletcher can spare him.”

  “And is that often?”

  She tried to act nonchalant, but her dislike betrayed her. “The fletcher has not found much for Philip to do.”

  “How old is your friend?”

  “Nearly thirteen.”

  The dwarf’s eyes narrowed. “Is he simple?”

  “No, Philip is very intelligent and quick witted.”

  “From our understanding, most apprentices should have much work to do by that age. Did he start older?”

  “No. Tom Fletcher is just a little too concerned with perfection to risk a novice actually attempting to do anything related to his craft.” The bitterness that crept into Dove’s tone seemed to vanish almost as soon as she’d finished speaking. “I should go. I feel better now, and I think your friends would like to see me gone.”

  “You can’t go.” Jakys’ voice sounded ominous.

  “And why is that?”

  “The drifts. They’ll be dangerous. You must wait another day or two until the winds blow more of the snow away. You’d never make it to the village now.”

  “But Philip will look for me. He won’t know to beware of the drifts, but I think I know where they might be. I can avoid them.”

  Shaking his head, Jakys frowned. “No. We will not have your death on our hands. You will stay.” He pulled a whistle from the pocket of his jerkin and two younger dwarves appeared. “Baldric, Grifon. She must not leave.”

  The little men nodded solemnly. The rounder one, Baldric, dragged a lame leg as he took his place on guard and pointed to the entrance to another tunnel. “The council would like to see you.”

  “I’ll bet they would,” Jakys muttered to himself as he turned to leave.

  “So, I’m some kind of prisoner?” The incredulity in Dove’s voice would have been comical had anyone who knew her seen it.

  “If you choose to feel imprisoned, that is up to you. In your shoes, I would feel like a protected guest.”

  Had Jakys been able to see Dove’s eyes slide sideways and glare at Grifon, he would have laughed until tears sprang from his eyes. As it was, he thought Grifon’s answer was quite eloquent and chose to remember it for when he told the story of his capture of the Ge-sceaft. Years later as an old man, he’d enjoy regaling the children with tales of danger and intrigue surrounding the feared “creature” of Wynnewood.

  Chapter 8

  Unusual Quests

  As is true of most stone edifices, Wynnewood Castle was cold everywhere the fires did not burn briskly nearby. Philip shivered in his blankets and waited for dry clothes from one of the servants. He’d expected questions, reproof, and possibly a little teasing. After all, he had gone out into the cold and the snow searching for a child that knew the woods much better than he ever would. Lady Aurelia, looking brighter and healthier than he’d expected of her in winter, sat in a comfortable-looking chair, loaded with pillows for cushion and support, embroidering.

  “What are you making?” He must be growing warmer. His teeth hardly chattered as he questioned her.

  “I am just embellishing my new gown. I’m not as skilled as Maud, but she assures me that I will not disgrace my father.”

  “Your work is lovely, as you well know, dear heart.” Lord Morgan’s voice sounded almost lazy— bored even. “Are you hungry, Philip?”

  “No—” He hesitated. He had eaten well before leaving, but now Philip did feel a little hollow. “Well, not much.” Altering his answer made him feel a little more honest, anyway.

  “I think we have venison stew in the kitchens. I’ll send for some.”

  “Th—”

  Lord Morgan interrupted. “We’re happy to keep you warm and fed. Where is Dove today?”

  “I was out looking for her, m’lord. I thought maybe she’d hidden from the storm in your tunnel.”

  A frown appeared on Lord Morgan’s face and his brow furrowed as if displeased. “She was out in the blizzard?”

  “According to Bertha, m’lord, yes.”

  “And how did Bertha allow something so foolhardy?”

  “I don’t know. When I heard, I went looking for her. I thought she would take shelter in the closest place to her, so I started with the most obvious place.”

  “But Philip, if she had come into our tunnel, surely she would have come to the door as you did.”

  Philip did not want to contradict the Earl of Wynnewood, but he knew that only desperation would have driven Dove to do something so bold. She might have chosen to starve or freeze to death before risking her safety at the hands of those who might still fear her. After a moment, he realized how he could answer truthfully without refuting the lord’s statement. “I had not thought of that, m’lord.”

  “And you do not think she would have come to us.”

  With a slight shrug, Philip answered truthfully. “That is true; I do not. Dove isn’t accustomed to trusting people, m’lord. She wouldn’t have risked it. I thought maybe you’d allow me to take a torch and search the rooms off the tunnel…”

  “I’ll send Elric and John.”

  “They won’t like it,” Philip muttered under his breath, sending Aurelia into amused titters.

  “You didn’t tell me that the knights had found him, father.”

  “How do you know they did?”

  Eyes rolling, Lady Aurelia positively sniffed as she retorted, “Because Philip would not be so certain of their displeasure if he hadn’t already encountered it this morning.” Smiling at Philip, she added, “I do believe all this snow has made them cranky.”

  “Perhaps when the snow clears some, we’ll send them on a quest to find the rescuer of the lady of the castle.”

  “Hmph. As if that’d matter. They’ll still feel under-appreciated for their particular talents.”

  Laughing, Lord Morgan rose to order the search of the tunnels. “Well, since we don’t have much use for swordplay or jousting at this time of year, I’m afraid that seeking lost damsels in distress will have to suffice.”

  Once Lord Morgan left the room, Philip glan
ced at Aurelia. “He doesn’t understand just how hated Dove still is.”

  “She shouldn’t be. My father publicly proclaimed her service to our family!”

  “What should be and what is are not always the same thing.” Philip didn’t like to admit that the people of his village ignored the admonitions of their benefactor.

  “You are worried about her, aren’t you, Philip?”

  “She’s been out there since Friday night. Even if she ate snow for her thirst, that’s a long time without food and only a blanket and her cloak for warmth.”

  “I’ve felt her cloak. It’s exceptionally thick.” Aurelia’s reassurance sounded weak even to her own ears.

  “I wish I knew where else she’d go. If she’s not in the tunnels—”

  “Why was she out in the storm? Do you know?”

  Philip sighed. “We were going to meet and search the Heolstor Forest.”

  “For what purpose? It seems an odd thing to do on a winter’s night, storm or no storm.”

  “We were just looking for animals and things. Sometimes we watch from her clearing to see the dragon bring food to his mate.” He tried, as smoothly as possible, to drag the conversation away from the purpose of their meeting.

  “Then perhaps she is in one of the Sceadu caves? It would still be cold, but not as cold as if exposed to the snow and the wind.” The hopeful tone of Aurelia’s voice soothed Philip.

  “They aren’t as close as the tunnel, but she might have gone there instead.”

  “It depends on where in the forest she was. The caves might have been closer, or maybe she thought she’d be able to feel her way there.”

  “I’ve heard there are bears still in those caves.”

  “Well, we’d all heard that there were dragons in Wyrm Forest, and now know otherwise. Father says the bears are all but gone now.” As confident as she tried to sound, Aurelia’s voice trembled at the idea of Dove meeting a bear.

  “Some say bears sleep for months at a time when it’s cold,” Philip suggested, unconvinced.

  “That may be true— possibly.”

  Aurelia held up the sleeve of her dress, now finished and ready for her to tackle the next, and asked Philip’s opinion. “What do you think? Too lavish?”

  “I think it looks lovely. You obviously have great skill.”

  There was a hint of self-pity in the girl’s voice as she replied. “Well, it isn’t an occupation I would have chosen for myself. I don’t enjoy playing with a needle and thread. I’d rather learn my lessons or play music. I’d even enjoy being a midwife like Dove’s Bertha rather than poke myself with that needle all day.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “It’s an appropriate pastime for a lord’s daughter.”

  He heard what she did not say. If Aurelia Morgan had not been lame, she might have had a more interesting existence. As it was, she was highly educated, thoroughly indulged, and still found herself with more extra time than occupations to fill it. “You should teach Dove. She will need means to support herself someday. Fine embroidery might be something she could do.”

  The lord’s daughter’s eyes lit up with new interest. “It would be so much easier to learn new stitches and techniques if I knew someone would have use for them. I’ll see if father will send for her often to practice with me.”

  “I’d be happy to indulge you in any way you please, Aurelia. Meanwhile, the men are combing the tunnels and any of the little-used rooms near them.” Lord Morgan sent Philip a sympathetic glance. “I’m afraid that they will not find her. If Dove does not want to be found, she will not be.”

  Philip wiped the bowl clean with his last crust of bread and raised worried eyes to Lord Morgan’s face. “Do you think she is alive, m’lord?”

  The Earl of Wynnewood shook his head ruefully. “I just don’t know, Philip. If she makes it home by nightfall, we’ll know. If she doesn’t, I don’t see how she could survive.” Seeing his daughter weep, Lord Morgan went to comfort her and added, “If it was summer and food was abundant…”

  “If it was summer, she wouldn’t freeze.” Philip’s voice sounded flat— empty. Lost.

  Sunday night found Bertha watching from the door of their cottage. She wondered if the death of the child meant she would now own the cottage or if it would transfer to the boy. “He’d probably double any rent price out of spite,” she muttered under her breath as she kneaded the bread she hadn’t made in years. “The child did more work around here than I do. I’ll give her that.”

  Her arms ached from the unaccustomed work. All day she’d done things that Dove had kept up for her. The amount of housekeeping the little girl did was astounding in retrospect. As fastidious as Bertha was, keeping the cottage clean and freshly aired as well as warm and cozy wasn’t an easy prospect. Every day the woman left to gather roots and herbs, aid a mother in her birthing, counsel another on how to help her child thrive whether in the womb or out, and returned to a house that was clean, comfortable, and warm. That day she’d shivered through airing, struggled to dry wood and keep warm, and try not to wonder where Dove was and if she was all right.

  Her words to Philip were true. Her life would be easier without the girl as far as the village was concerned. They would stop suspecting her of witchcraft or sorcery with the Ge-sceaft gone from her home. Her duty, her calling was to preserve life, and she’d done that. She protected the child from certain death and given the girl a home. If Dove chose to squander her life in pursuit of her own interests, that wasn’t Bertha’s responsibility.

  However, that long Sunday had proven to Bertha that there was more to Dove’s existence in her home than a curse on her reputation. The child was a silent worker, keeping her in constant comfort. She did the chores of a much older person, making Bertha wonder if the girl wasn’t older than they’d thought. Then again, people in larger families split up the work, so perhaps they didn’t realize just how much a single child was capable of accomplishing. As it was, Bertha would need help. It was time to consider an apprentice.

  Due to Dove’s presence, she’d avoided the need to take on a trainee, but as she aged, she’d need the help. While she pounded the bread with her hands, she thought over the different girls in the village. The tavern keeper’s daughter wasn’t worth the hassle. If the girl couldn’t listen to simple cleansing instructions for oysters, how could she be trusted to follow Bertha’s instructions for a healthy birth?

  From the fishermen’s daughters to the peasant farmer’s girls to the young women of the village, she mentally considered everyone she could remember and if they’d shown any aptitude for physical care. At last, her thoughts settled on Letty Wood. The girl would need to learn some discretion, but she’d always been kind and helpful to her mother. For the last baby, Matill’ hadn’t even called for Bertha. She’d allowed Letty to help her until the end and then sent for the neighbor. It was another case of Dove hurting her business.

  She shaped the dough into loaves, thinking. Once they were rising near the hearth, she opened the door and stepped out into the night. Her mind whirled with new ideas until she nodded to herself. Anyone watching the way she glanced at the stars, into the Wyrm Forest, and gestured as if someone were listening, would have found the sight just as eerie as Philip did as he watched her wave the cauldron over the snow that morning.

  Chapter 9

  Revelry

  Jakys found Dove asleep on the bench farthest from the “guards” at the opposite door. With the blankets he’d carried through the caverns used as a pillow, and the child’s hood fully covering her face, she slept with one hand curled around the edge, protectively. He glanced toward Baldric and jerked his head toward the waif, asking questions with his movements without the need for words. Grifon shifted awkwardly.

  Curious, Jakys strolled across the enormous room to question the men. “What has your breeches knotted in the back, Grifon?”

  “It doesn’t belong here. You say it’s a girl, but it’s wearing breeches. I think that is wh
at the village calls the Ge-sceaft. Hugo has told me of the thing. It’s evil. You’ve brought evil amongst us.”

  “I will take full responsibility for her, but she is not evil. She’s a misunderstood child, but she is not evil.”

  “She did not show herself to you, did she? You don’t know what you have brought here.” Baldric’s voice joined in the dissent.

  “No, she did not show herself, but I saw her as she slept. She is no danger to us. We can overpower her with little effort. If Lord Charles Morgan trusts her, I do not see why we should not.”

  “Do you know,” Baldric argued forcefully, “that they say she mesmerizes the dragon?”

  “The question is, do you trust me?” There was a fierceness in his tone— one that dared the men to question his judgment further.

  Both of the dwarf men backed down submissively. “Of course, Grifon hastened to insist. “We trust you implicitly. It’s just the creature—”

  “Girl! She’s a girl. Do you want me to hold your lack of height as evidence of a lack of intellect? Are you Mæte or should we call you nieten or læwede? Are you a beast or ignorant because you are smaller than men?”

  Both men backed away from him, their spears pointing down and held with a slack grip in a gesture of submission. Baldric had one last question for Jakys. “What about the revelry tonight? Who will have to guard her while the rest celebrate?”

  “She is my guest. She will attend with the rest of us.”

  As Jakys walked toward Dove, who now stirred on her bench, Baldric and Grifon stared at one another in disbelief. Even the most trusted traders were never invited to their celebrations. Understanding dawned on Baldric, and he elbowed his companion knowingly. “He has use for her. Jakys has a plan. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so. No one will relax and have fun dancing with that hooded thing. It’s unnatural to stay so hidden.”

  “I suppose,” Baldric mused aloud as he watched their friend lead the unwelcome visitor from their round hall. “Then again, one could accuse us of staying hidden.”