The Maiden and the Mercenary

by Nicole Locke

  ‘Everyone is in the kitchens which is where you needed to be, although you should know...’ Tess stopped, tilted her head. ‘Were you sick again?’

  Bied nodded.

  ‘I know there is something amiss.’ Tess crossed her arms. ‘I took a chance and let you in. The Steward was not pleased, but with Cook... Don’t even begin to say nothing is happening. Are you—’

  Bied grabbed Tess’s arm. ‘I’ll tell you, but not here.’

  When Tess relented, Bied quickly walked to the servants’ quarters which were empty at this time of the day.

  How to begin? Margery’s message was foreboding, but the information Louve voiced was menacing.

  Her earlier thoughts still rankled. Since those fateful days when she was much, much younger, when had she ever relied on a man to help her? She knew better. Her father abandoned her family; the village men offered assistance at a price. That man riding through the village, spotting Margery and...taking her away with him, then Lord Warstone trapping her. Men were not to be trusted.

  ‘You were right, there is something wrong with the ale,’ Bied said.

  Tess’s jaw dropped. ‘You tested it by drinking it yourself!’

  Bied threw up her arms. ‘Why does everyone keep questioning me on this?’

  ‘Everyone?’ Tess said. ‘Pray, you are new and we don’t know each other well, but I feel as though we have some understanding.’

  Bied did, too, and perhaps it was time to confess. She needed her sister right now, to talk about...rescuing her sister! It was past time to confess to Tess.

  Tess cleared her throat. ‘I hope I can tell you what I believe—you’re trying to prove your worth. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? You don’t have a husband or children and not two coins to rub together either.’

  ‘You think I drunk pois—bad ale to prove myself.’

  ‘You couldn’t have done it for the result or the taste. Or...’ Tess paled. ‘You’re not... You’re not...’

  She thought she wanted to be dead. ‘I didn’t intend to get sick. It happened a bit more quickly this time.’ What could she say? She’d been holding off telling Tess anything and, now with Louve hinting at danger, it wasn’t easy.

  ‘I know what this is,’ Tess said.

  Bied started. She did? Perhaps that’s why she felt such an affinity with Tess. ‘I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t certain how to begin.’

  ‘I had an aunt with the same wariness as you,’ Tess said. ‘I know nothing can be done now. Since you’re here, obviously you have some control, but sometimes... I think she needed to tell someone. I want you to know I will listen.’

  Bied had nothing under control and she needed far more than mere listening, but it was a beginning. ‘Your aunt had family in trouble, too?’

  Tess’s brows eased. ‘Her husband wasn’t kind. The village she lived in allowed it. Of course, under the sanctity of marriage her husband was within his rights to do what he did, but...she lost an eye. It was yet another fight, yet more wounds, but he had a wooden spoon in his hand and when he went to strike...’

  Tess shook. ‘When she healed, she left. We all woke up one morning, she wasn’t there any more and we never saw her again.’

  Bied could only stare. What Tess described was horrific, yet she’d also said her aunt reminded her of...her.

  ‘When you arrived requesting work,’ Tess said, ‘well, no one comes here, either because of the Warstone reputation or the knowledge we never open doors for anyone new. I was raised here and as I watched you look around, I remembered my aunt. You seemed fearful, so I let you in. Was it a husband, a father? Who hurt you and do we need to do something about it?’

  If Biedeluue could have conjured up a friend, Tess would be it. Mostly because of how much Tess seemed to understand her and wanted to help. But Biedeluue wasn’t here for friendships, as badly as she wanted one. She was here for her sister.

  ‘There’s a reason I am fearful,’ Bied said. ‘There’s a reason, too, that I’m testing the ale.’

  At Tess’s look, Bied continued, ‘I have a sister and she’s here.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Tess said.

  Bied did. When she was done, she only had to ask, ‘Will you help me get Margery out of here today?’

  ‘I’d be insulted if you didn’t ask.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Ian took his parents to their rooms, so it wasn’t difficult for Louve to meet Balthus in an abandoned room near the root storage.

  What was difficult was believing that the youngest Warstone had purposefully trapped himself in the Warstone fortress and seemed amused because Louve was disturbed. His stomach was moderately better, but now his head pounded.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said.

  ‘The whole party were travelling not far from where I hid,’ Balthus said.

  He could have lost Balthus and not even known it. ‘They spotted you?’

  ‘No,’ Balthus scoffed. ‘I actually let my parents pass right under me, so I was at their back when I greeted them. You should have seen their expressions!’

  ‘What of the other men?’

  ‘Still hidden. Still safe. There was time for instructions before I joined my family’s hunt.’

  Hired mercenaries, men paid by coin for dangerous duties, were protected while the one man they were all meant to protect greeted the sword point.

  ‘It’s not too late—your family are occupied, you can leave.’

  ‘Why would I do that?’ Balthus said.

  ‘That’s obvious. What isn’t obvious is your being here.’ At Balthus’s expression Louve added, ‘Please do not tell me it was for your amusement.’

  ‘I was bored waiting.’

  Louve had been gone a day.

  ‘What role are you playing here?’ Balthus said.

  ‘I’m Usher, but the Steward left to secure goblets and my role has expanded.’

  ‘Goblets?’ Balthus said. ‘What importance is that?’

  ‘It’s a long story and I, too, am suspicious of his departure, but haven’t had time to make enquiries.’

  ‘Do you have the parchment, then?’ Balthus asked.

  ‘Are you jesting? Were you always this impatient and impulsive?’

  ‘You left early enough. Regardless of the threat my brother represents, he does sleep and he can’t be everywhere at once.’ Balthus crossed his arms. ‘Reynold trusted you on this. Given his proclivity, I expected more from you.’

  He’d got a few hours of sleep. Not nearly enough for everything that had happened. Arriving to chaos, to games, to a reckless woman and poisoned ale. In between, he’d conducted Usher duties.

  ‘As I’ve said, I’ve been occupied,’ Louve said.

  ‘This is why I am here,’ Balthus said. ‘This parchment is crucial, and any delay could be our undoing.’

  Louve took one look at Balthus’s haughty expression, of him barely containing a laugh, and swung his fist.

  Balthus ducked, lost his footing and fell to the floor. Not as satisfying as a direct cut across his jaw, but the humiliation provided some comfort. Unfortunately, the sudden movement reminded him he’d been spitting bile in a bucket less than an hour before.

  Balthus stayed on the floor. ‘You don’t look well.’

  ‘That’s because I’m poisoned.’

  Balthus merely leaned back against the wall, resting his elbows on his knees, his position as casual as if they dined in an open field under a summer sky.

  ‘No reaction at all?’ Louve said.

  Balthus huffed. ‘I’ve been poisoned too many times to count. Warstones would recognise the different subtleties and some of the effects. Do you have any with you?’

  ‘It’s in a barrel in the cellar.’

  ‘So that’s why you don’t have the parchment, because you’ve been drinking.
..with Ian?’

  No, with a woman he’d tried to warn, but hadn’t. She was a distraction from the mission, a distraction because...her sister. Had he told her to not do anything? He couldn’t remember, but, knowing Bied, she was probably charging ahead, and with the entire Warstone clan in residence, it was a nightmare.

  ‘I have to get out of here.’

  ‘I unquestionably liked you better when you weren’t so serious.’ Balthus stood. ‘What is occurring here and don’t tell me it’s the useless parchment?’

  Not the useless parchment, but Bied trying to save her sister. He didn’t even need to think about the point where his priorities had changed. It was the moment she’d spread her arms and shouted about protecting the children.

  His life had taken a different turn and he’d been too distracted when she told him of her sister. Then they’d got sick. He was certain now he hadn’t told her he’d help her.

  ‘I have to do something else—you’ll need to acquire the parchment.’

  ‘I don’t want the parchment and have no intention of searching for it.’

  ‘Then what are you doing here...?’ At Balthus’s grave expression, Louve had only one word: ‘No.’

  ‘He tried to kill me.’

  Balthus was here, in Ian’s home, so he could murder his brother. This was exactly what Reynold didn’t want to happen. ‘Reynold was clear—you are to be protected. I can’t protect you if you threaten Ian.’

  ‘My very existence threatens him.’

  Louve pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘That has always been the truth, why hasten it now? Why not wait in the woods as we agreed?’

  ‘Because it’s convenient.’ Balthus said. ‘The whole family is here as witness, and we can end at least one dispute.’

  Dispute. Louve was unfazed by Balthus’s word use. He’d been involved with the Warstones for so long that talking of fratricide was simply another conversation. ‘Is it possible Ian is trying to poison himself and blame someone else?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Balthus said.

  He had to be overthinking this. Ian couldn’t be putting poison in his own barrels in the hope of poisoning someone else. Someone had to be slipping the poison in the barrels, but the protection here was unparalleled so how could it happen?

  Truly, the poison was the least of his problems. ‘There’s a cook here and she shouldn’t be. Ian has trapped her sister and she’s attempting a rescue.’

  ‘Someone’s here on a mission at the same time we are?’ Balthus said very slowly as if he was trying to understand it. ‘You’re jesting.’

  Louve wished he was.

  ‘You’re poisoned and you’re telling me about a cook you care to help,’ Balthus said. ‘You do remember I’m a Warstone and you’re handing me a weakness of yours?’

  Louve mockingly arched his brow. ‘You do remember that you’re trying to prove you’re one of the good ones?’

  ‘If this is a test, it’s an easy one. Ian’s only ever cared for his wife and two sons.’

  ‘The wife and children who are kept far away from him.’

  ‘As the rest of us are.’

  ‘Your parents are together,’ Louve pointed out.

  ‘When you see them today, you’ll know why. They hate each other, but their need for power and a united front to protect it keeps them close.’ Balthus shrugged. ‘Harder to plot intrigues against the other if they are constantly in the same room.’

  Balthus was wrong. Louve would never understand the Warstones. A quiet wife who accepted him, a small plot of land of his own, peace. He’d keep chanting that until it became true.

  Even if Ian cared for his wife enough to keep her away, there was something possessive about his behaviour towards Margery. ‘The cook, the sister, still wants to rescue her from here. Until that is done, neither of them is safe.’

  ‘The mistress should be safe...unless...’ Balthus went quiet.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Ian talks in his sleep. He might be keeping the mistress because she knows something.’

  Then Margery was in true danger. ‘We need to get her out of there now.’

  Balthus shuddered. ‘This we reference rankles as does doing good deeds, but it doesn’t matter. If Ian wanted her dead, he would have already done it. Although it is curious why he has her so well protected in his chambers.’

  Louve didn’t find it curious at all why a man would want Margery. Even he could admire her beauty. Admire it, but not...crave it like he was beginning to crave a certain woman who could stack goblets and challenge a room at the same time.

  ‘The mistress might be protected, but I am unsure her sister is. Ian wasn’t pleased she was under his roof. He’s sent out messages—I am certain at least one of them was to gain information on her, and that cannot happen.’

  Balthus gave a curt nod. ‘Let me assuage your concerns—if this cook dies suddenly, what does Ian gain from it?’

  He’d have Margery, but he already had Margery.

  Balthus sighed. ‘Our brother, Guy, might have murdered and been murdered without thought, but the rest of us are more discerning. Ian will only kill if it gains him anything. Unless...did either of these women poison the ale?’

  He didn’t know. Bied hadn’t, but what of her sister? She certainly had reason to. ‘Neither of them did it—the cook was testing the ale because Margery was drinking it.’

  ‘Was my brother drinking it?’

  ‘I only observed him once and, at that time, he wasn’t.’

  ‘Poison in a Warstone home can only mean death for someone, but who?’ Balthus said, then laughed. ‘Probably you. Perhaps Ian knew our location and anticipated your arrival.’

  ‘I can’t think this way.’ Louve rubbed his forehead.

  ‘That’s because you’re weak with whatever you drank.’ Balthus added, ‘He could have set you up. Poisoned the ale, so he could have you killed and no one would question it.’

  He wished there was a window, or they could leave the door open. Anything to get fresh air in a room that was suddenly too stifling. ‘What would he gain from my death?’

  ‘You’re Reynold’s friend.’

  ‘He’d deny it.’

  ‘As would I—I refuse to be friends with someone who can be loyal within a day.’

  Bied. He shouldn’t leave her alone like this. Was she feeling as ill as he? Louve looked to the door. He hadn’t said enough, kissed her enough. She could be doing any reckless activity now.

  ‘Reynold won’t react to my death,’ Louve said.

  ‘He’d be wise not to, but from what I saw he’s attached—it might hurt, which would amuse Ian.’

  ‘Can we think along the lines of Ian not poisoning the ale to kill me for his amusement?’ Louve said.

  ‘His servants wouldn’t dare do it,’ Balthus said. ‘Most of these people I’ve known since I was an infant. They worked for my parents and then under him, and suddenly they decide this?’

  The most likely to blame were the three people who were new: Bied, Margery or himself. He’d assumed Biedeluue hadn’t done it, but had she denied it?

  ‘I need to leave. We’ve been too long as it is.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Balthus said pointedly. ‘You’ve been here a day, which was apparently enough to develop feelings for a servant. I’m beginning to think Reynold kept you for entertainment when his dull books wouldn’t do.’

  Everything was a jest for Balthus. Everything used to be a jest for him. What had happened? Bied.

  ‘Your brother won’t appreciate you’re here,’ Louve said. ‘You need to be far outside these fortress gates.’

  ‘You’re not worried about my brother or me, you’re worried about that cook. I can’t wait to meet her. I wish I had taken bets on this! I could use the coin now. The new mercenaries are fierce. Perhaps Ian would pl
ay—’

  ‘You’re not playing games with them,’ Louve interrupted. ‘They’ll murder you. Ian already tried and he’s likely to do it again.’

  ‘He did seem pleased when I rode up to him.’

  A nightmare.

  ‘Do not worry about Ian,’ Balthus continued. ‘I’m my mother’s favourite and he won’t do anything in front of her. My father, moreover, will enjoy pitting brother against brother and would be annoyed if that entertainment ended too soon. While I’m keeping them occupied you can find the parchment.’

  ‘Balthus, I was to protect you.’

  ‘You were to obtain the parchment and you need my help. You can’t face my parents and Ian on your own.’

  He couldn’t face himself now. Land of his own, a quiet accepting wife, peace. None of it he could conjure now. Nothing that would cease his rolling thoughts. Every one of them could die a horrific death and there was nothing he could do to stop it because the entire world had gone mad.

  He might as well join them. Wrenching open the door, he forced words through his clenched teeth. ‘When this is over, I want never to hear from any of you again.’

  * * *

  Tess was true to her word. Bied should never have doubted she was a good person and now friend. If she had trusted Tess earlier, she could have rescued her sister before Louve ever arrived with his confusing smile and reports of danger. They’d be home now instead of further trapped because the fortress was overflowing with curious people.

  But the scheme they came up with was simple. While the family were occupied and servants were preparing rooms, Bied would simply be another servant in the private tower. Jeanne even agreed to help, though she didn’t know why Bied asked her to remain in the kitchens while she carried refreshments up to the private chambers. But she didn’t question it too much, so that was fortunate.

  The only issue was since the fortress was full, many people would need refreshments. Feeding the fortress was easier when Steward made the menu and Cook helped with Lord Warstone’s personal dishes. No Steward meant the burden fell on Cook, no Cook meant Biedeluue needed to be at her station. However, she would be upstairs, so Tess needed to cover the kitchens. Which might work if Cook, who’d arrived, stayed.