by Susan Payne
Gawain was less strict about Jillian’s leaving the keep as long as she was accompanied by another human. She made arrangements to take Leo with her and sometimes Pup on her outings. She used these times as training sessions for Leo and to find the spot where Lancelot had fallen.
It took several trips before she found the area in the woods where it happened. Jillian was surprised at how far she had travelled with Pup, well out of sight of the keep and the guards’ view. She left Leo practicing his thrusts and back-swings to search for the hole.
Not wishing to endanger Lancelot again, she walked from the edge of the forest through the gloom and into the moist interior. Following the signs that men had been there tramping the dirt and breaking small branches, she searched the disturbed ground. Suddenly the opening was in front of her, seemingly in an otherwise safe clearing with large, mature trees surrounding the spot.
She walked to the area where it showed Lancelot’s thrashing about and kneeled, feeling the soil with her bare hand. Other than where Lancelot’s hoof broke through the surface, there was no sign of animal tracks going in or out. After plunging her bow in to make sure nothing alive jumped out at her, she reached into the hole.
Feeling around with her hand, she touched something metal, she was sure of it. She tried pulling on it and found it was sharp on one side so attempted to dig out the part buried deeper in the dirt. The soil felt strange, not as gritty as she would have thought.
After several minutes of pulling and digging, the item came loose enough and she pulled out an unusual dagger, wider than a dirk and less pointed. It was of very high-quality craftsmanship but bare of gems or gold. Made of steel, the blade was an extension of the grip, which was highly decorated with unfamiliar designs. Some appeared to be possibly a snake and circles like the spokes of a wheel, but not exactly. She put it in the satchel hung over her shoulder and reached blindly into the hollow again.
An hour passed quickly. She studied her other booty dug from the earth and cataloged it in her mind. After the knife, there was a man’s armband of decorated copper, a ring but not a signet ring and a belt buckle. There was also a brooch with the pin still on some type of cloth, which disintegrated as she pulled it from the dirt. The rest of the pieces seemed to be aged leather scraps and a tether.
Jillian tossed the small stones she had found as not being from the stash she unearthed. She thought mayhap Lancelot had found someone’s buried stolen property or property that had been buried to protect it from thieves.
Following her own path back to the sunlight, she found Lancelot grazing next to the field and rode back to where she had left Leo.
“Madam, I was worried. It has taken you so long. I felt I should ride back to the keep and tell them when I heard you returning,” Leo told her accusingly. “Do not leave for such a long time or I will feel I cannot accompany you on your rides.”
“I am sorry, but when we get home, I will show you what I found in the ground. Treasure, I found treasures,” she told him excitedly.
“Truly, you found things in the hole that Lancelot fell into? Really found valuables? I wasn’t sure you would find the spot again.” His face showed the young man’s eager anticipation of seeing gold and silver coins.
“Not exactly valuable treasure, but things someone thought enough of to bury in the forest and then were unable to retrieve them. I think they must be very old. I will look them up in a book I found in the library. Possibly ask the locals if they seem familiar to them. I think they have been here eons and I wish to find the story behind them.” She explained as the boy lost some of his wide-eyed excitement.
“So, no jewels or gold goblets or anything like that. Nothing from the Vikings hidden after raiding a rich church?” he asked disappointedly.
“No, but they have an interest and value to me so they are worth the time and energy it took to locate the cavity again.” Then asked, “Do you still have strength left to spar with me? We can be back a little late and I need the exercise as much as you need the practice.”
“Yes, that would be a good end to our day. Let me get your broadsword and we shall be ready. I promise not to be too aggressive. You have the weight around your middle that may keep you off on your footwork,” he teased knowing such talk would have Jillian giving him a good workout.
As soon as they were home, Leo took her horse from her. Jillian ran upstairs to change out of her ‘man’ clothes as the rest of the household referred to them and washed up before donning a lovely gold dress trimmed with velvet and matching velvet short gown. Long lace cuffs hung past the tips of her fingers.
Jillian never wore a corset and was even now wondering when she would need to alter her clothing to accommodate the growing child. It was very evident she was expecting at this point and she would have to alter her life style soon. It was odd that the most accommodating clothing was her male clothes.
Jillian hurried into the library to find the book she remembered passing over as she sought reading that was more entertaining. She found it where she recalled seeing it and hoped it wasn’t in a language she couldn’t read.
Placing the book open on the desk, she paged through it to find drawings with some of the same characters and symbols of the items she found. She pulled her finds out of the satchel sitting on the floor next to her and set them along the top of the desk so the light from the window shown across them, clearly defining the designs and patterns.
The knife handle interested her the most and although the metal was pitted and the blade dull, she turned the flax pages trying to find something similar. To her surprise, she did find an armband with almost the exact same pattern and picked up the item. Placing it next to the one in the book, she turned it and studied the pattern all the way around. A slave bracelet from the Vikings perhaps or was it from another band of people more native to the area?
Then she saw it, the pattern and the name of the people. She had stumbled onto a buried bag of items belonging to the Picts, long gone now but once very active in Scotland and very good iron craftsmen. Continuing to read avidly, she hoped there was mention of such knives or jewelry. This could be a lost bag from a thief who had stolen the items from a collector and therefore someone’s property that should be returned.
Jillian was dragged away by Agatha when supper was called. She would need to wait for the next day because the light would not be good enough to distinguish the patterns or designs of the drawings, which were not all in actual size.
She decided not to tell anyone of her discovery until she knew what it was, she had found. She didn’t wish them disappointed if they turned out to be nothing. That and she had not thought up a good story to explain how she found the items when her family thought she was riding with Leo, not digging in the woods alone.
At supper that evening, Gawain asked, “Wife, how did you spend your day?”
Trying to stick to the truth as closely as possible in case her husband was checking up on her, she answered, “I went riding but I was with Leo and we did not gallop or take any difficult terrain. Merely the usual ride across the open fields.”
“You did not take a fall or trip?” he asked now holding her hand to his lips while staring into her eyes.
“N-no, why would you ask that. I’m very careful with our child,” she assured him confused with his questioning.
“It is just that I noticed your clothing from today is stained with dirt and moss around the knees and shirt sleeve.” Then he opened her hand fully for him to see the entire thing. “And there is soil beneath your nails, quite different from your usual clean hands.”
Jillian quickly pulled her hand back, tucking in her fingers to hide the damning evidence. Proof she had been lying to him. She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. No one seemed to be so she said under her breath, “Can we speak of this later?”
“Certainly, wife, but I will not let this matter drop. I have as much or more reason to see you safe and if Leo is too easily led astray then I will p
ost another to safeguard you.” He looked sternly at her before turning to Lord Riley to answer a question the older man put to him.
Jillian lifted her chin and thought about what explanation she could make, but then decided she had not done anything wrong or dangerous to her child. Even though Leo wasn’t with her, he knew in which direction she went and would have found Lancelot standing where she left him. A simple shout would have him next to her if for some reason, she could not return to her mount.
As soon as they reached their sleeping chambers, Gawain closed the door and leaned back against it indicating it was time to talk. That she was not getting past him without the whole truth coming out.
She began undressing, taking her time to undo the side braids that Ann insisted she wear now that her hair had grown out. “I told you the truth in that I did not fall or trip or do anything to harm our child. I am very careful with myself in that way,” she began.
Gawain stood and walked toward her nodding. “I believe you but I also know when I am being led a merry chase and you, my wife, have always led me on the merriest of chases.”
He smiled as he helped her untie the back of her dress and then pushed it down her arms to explore the bare body it exposed.
Jillian leaned back into him, liking the attention of his lips on her skin. “I am not leading you anywhere, husband. It is you who lead me to do things I never contemplated before.” She tipped her head back so her lips were right next to his. As she planned, he leaned in and kissed her, reaching around her body and covering one firm breast.
“I will not be dissuaded, wife, so tell me all.” He nipped the soft skin beneath her ear.
Knowing he wasn’t going to be satisfied with any more half-truths, Jillian stepped away to confront him with her dress still hanging on her protruding stomach and rounded hips. “I went back to where Lancelot fell, and I was right. He plunged through into a cavity-like area made when a leather bag or satchel, buried long ago rotted away. I found items, very old items, from a group of people called the Picts. They are very lovely, Gawain,” she finished with excitement in her voice, hoping he would not tarnish this experience with a reprimand.
Gawain seemed to know how she was feeling. “I look forward to seeing these very old items in the morning. I want to see what so fascinated my wife that she forgets to wash or pick-up her soiled clothes.”
Jillian gazed down saying, “I was so happy I did not find a sleeping nest of adders I became excited over these objects. They are not valuable, well not in the sense of gold and gems, but I find them beautiful and full, I don’t know, full of life. Someone made these items, used them in their daily chores and then buried them. And we will never know who or why. I can conjecture, but I will never know for sure.” She gazed wondrously at her husband and smiled in awe. “I find that fascinating.”
Gawain whispered as he kissed down her neck, “You fascinate me, wife. Your unstoppable curiosity, your fearless following of that curiosity and your ability to let your excitement for such things encompasses me as well.
“I look forward to the morrow then, but first we have a night to get through before you can play with your new toys,” he teased. “Let us see if we can find something to keep your mind and hands busy until then.”
Jillian was in the library writing to one of the professors from Edenborough University who had shown an interest in the Pict items she found. He had answered a query she sent to several universities asking if what she found was of educational value to anyone else. A couple of other letters arrived, but Mr. Butler seemed the most interested and knowledgeable of the items she mentioned as having in her possession.
He wrote in return asking if it was convenient for him to come and see the collection during his term break. She was writing him in reply that he would be more than welcome, but warned of the harsh weather he may encounter to get there.
After her first discovery, Jillian spent many hours taking a pike and pushing it into the hard forest floor hunting for more buried treasure as she called it around the area where she had her accident. She shared some of the pieces with the others at the keep hoping someone there knew of more things Pict. Even the oldest residents didn’t have anything to add to her knowledge so she kept searching.
She discovered an indentation that could have been the foundation of a dwelling long since dismantled and the stones reused to build someone else’s home. She dug shallowly and found some old animal bones, a buried family pet probably but nothing exciting.
It appeared it may have become a dumping area for a crofter’s rubbish when she went digging through pieces of broken pottery and even corks. She didn’t think the Pict had cork all the way from Portugal and that’s when she realized everything, she had come across had been too new. Items she was readily familiar with and could be found in any household in the area.
Disappointment followed her home that day. She was sure there must be more items on her husband’s lands that could tell her more about the Pict, about how they lived and what became of them. Conjecture was constantly with her but she was a person who needed closure. Know the ending even if it wasn’t a happy ever after ending. She thought that may possibly be a given since there were no longer Picts or even the memory of the people ever being here. The book she had access to was the closest information as to their lifestyle and possibly beliefs.
Arm bands and a few ideas that the Picts, at least the men, were marked with similar decorations like the Viking. But Jillian wanted to know more, know everything. Did the women leave their hair long or cut it short for convenience? Were the children watched closely or sent out to fend for themselves? Was there a central government like a king or was it more of small bands working in an area? Farmers or gatherers? Hunters or herders? How would she find the answers? And if she didn’t, would the questions drive her mad? All the possibilities as to how they came to live there. Where they came from and where they went.
Then luck was with her when she discerned a rock formation near and overlooking the stream meandering through the trees. She approached the cave-like opening thinking it could possibly be an area where the iron ore used in the items she found was once mined. Instead, she discovered a few hunting implements, a pole similar to a pike and the wood portion of a bow, and another armband hidden under the dirt blown in over the centuries.
The band was similar to the one she found earlier, but not an exact match although she recognized some of the designs as those having belonged to the Pict. She became very excited and couldn’t wait to tell Leo who was waiting for her not far away. Ever since Gawain threatened to find someone more mature and probably stricter to watch over her when she left the bailey. Jillian made sure Leo was close at hand should anything befall her, like a sprained ankle again.
“Leo, come look. I found more treasure,” she said teasingly knowing the boy was less than enthused with her attempts to find more of the old Pict artifacts. As he began to walk over to her, there was a thrashing through the trees and brush along the stream. Two large, burly men burst through into the bare area just below the cave opening.
“Weel take that treasure, lassie. Ye and the boy stand aside,” the uglier of the two said and it was a difficult choice as to which one Jillian felt that was. Turning to his companion with a flattened nose, he said, “I told ya if’n we followed ‘em enough, they’d lead us ta their treasure.”
Jillian used her years of facing down combatants who were larger, stronger and surely hairier than her as she told them boldly. “The treasure is only in the eyes of the beholder. It hasn’t any value to a pawnbroker so will probably not earn you enough for a half penny pie. But I enjoy collecting it for the history it tells me.”
“Save yer pretty talk for others. We heard in the tavern ye and the boy have been searching day in and day out for this here treasure and we heards ye say ye just found it. Now it be ours.” The two men began to climb the incline to where she and Leo stood.
Leo was carrying both swords because the hunt for Pi
ct items always precluded their daily swordplay and he handed Jillian hers as he unsheathed his own.
“I give you fair warning that we will not give up our findings to two thugs who will discard it without regard to its historical value.”
“Aww, look Maddog, the little lady and the boy want ta play knights. Well, we have no chivalry when it comes ta what we wants. So, Maddog, ye take the loon.” Referring to Leo. “And I’ll take the quine.” Then he headed toward Jillian as she raised her sword in defense hoping Leo would use the higher ground to his benefit, as well.
The two big men rushed towards Jillian and Leo, their broadswords raised high in the air with the strength of their muscles, expecting to bring them down in an arc, severing the two slender bodies in front of them.
Instead, each swing was met with one from the two younger and supposedly weaker competitors, causing the larger men to stumble back and re-access their quarry. They glared at one another, then roared in unison. Taking the needed steps to bring them closer to Jillian and Leo while raising the swords once more threatening to bring them down with all their might. Again, Jillian and Leo used their own swords to protect themselves from the attack.
Winded with their climb and standing on the angle, the men swung wildly as Jillian told Leo to go on the offensive. They kept the two bigger and out of shape men busy protecting themselves from the onslaught of the brandishing swords being wielded by the much slighter and faster young people.
The ugliest man stumbled as he backed away from her unrelenting sword strikes. Jillian slashed into his right arm forcing him to drop his weapon and grab his wounded arm to stem the flow of blood. Leo saw Jillian cripple her opponent. That lent more speed and strength to his battle. Knocking the sword out of his adversary’s hand, he too slashed his challenger’s side open, blood seeping into the man’s clothing and dripping when the cloth became quickly saturated.
“No more, no more!” the one named Maddog called out trying to cover his wound without much success. “Ye win, we’ll leave.”
