Wild Lavender: The Aurelian Guard - Book One

by Nicole Elizabeth Kelleher

  Gorman grabbed a rope and dragged Will, still struggling to get free, to the hitching post in the courtyard. He forced Will to his knees, and then bound his wrists to the hitch’s high crossbeam.

  • • •

  Cellach was in the armory with Lady Aubrianne. She was standing at the window when she cried out in horror. She raced past a startled Cellach, shouting over her shoulder, “Protect Doreen!”

  Cellach flew to the window. He took in the scene and sped to the scullery to head off the cook. He was just in time to grab Doreen by the waist as she started out the door to protect her son. He suspected that someone had told her knowing she would do anything to protect her son. But who would be so malicious?

  • • •

  Anna made it to the hitching post in the time that it took to execute six cracks of a whip. Will’s thin shirt offered no protection against the lash, exposing blood and strafed skin to all who had gathered. Before Gorman could strike the seventh blow, Anna jumped between him and the young man. She didn’t flinch as he brought down the whip a hair’s breadth from her face.

  “Aubrianne!” Lord Roger bellowed. “You will remove yourself immediately. This boy will be taught a lesson.”

  “Lord Roger, I beg you, a word in private.” Only after he nodded did Anna move from Will.

  “What is it?” he demanded.

  “Please, Lord Roger, spare the boy. I know he offended you, but there must be some other way.” Anna glanced at the kitchen’s entrance where Cellach had an iron grip on Doreen. Grainne was there, too, whispering something to Will’s mother. “Please, Lord Roger.”

  She lowered her head submissively, pleading quietly so that only her husband could hear her. “Surely there is something that would give you greater pleasure than inflicting pain on this boy.”

  “You do not understand, as usual,” he replied as if she were a simpleton. So that those assembled could hear, he then pronounced, “I have ordered that fifteen lashes be dealt today. So far, there have only been six. What would the good people of Stolweg think of their lord? Nay, Lady Aubrianne, fifteen lashes must be dealt.”

  Before Gorman could continue, Anna called out in a clear voice, “Lord Roger states that nine more lashes still must be paid and someone must bear them.” Roger’s eyes narrowed at her. “Very well, m’lord. Your request is my pleasure.”

  Before he could stop her, she rushed back to the unconscious Will, shielding him with her own body. Grasping the ropes, she twisted them around her wrists.

  Her husband nodded to Gorman, for he would never back down and risk losing the respect he thought he had. Anna heard the whistling of the lash seconds before it slashed across her back. She did not cry out, biting deeply into her lip as the second and third stroke came down. A searing pain radiated through her frame and by the fifth blow, she lost count. Waiting an eternity for the telltale sound of the strap slicing air, Anna realized that the last blow had been laid, and her body sagged against Will’s bloodied back.

  A heavy weariness threatened to pull her to the ground. She gathered what strength she had and forced herself to stand. Anna never knew how she was able to remain upright; it felt as though the earth tilted with each step she took. Halfway to the castle, she passed Roger. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She ripped it from his grip and staggered.

  “I will expect you in my chamber tomorrow at the usual time, Lady Aubrianne,” he commanded, his voice cold with fury. She glared at him with every bit of intensity she had, willing him to understand that if she ever had the chance, she would kill him. Her eyes glimmered with satisfaction when he took a step back.

  Then, she focused on the entrance to the castle. Her only goal was to reach it before collapsing. Someone rushed past her. Doreen? Then another. That would be Cellach, she thought. He did not slow; he could not risk showing his loyalty to her.

  Anna reeled her way to the entrance and rounded the corner. When her hand reached out for support, she discovered that the wall had disappeared. The floor seemed to race up. Grainne caught her before she fell, and then supported her as they climbed the mountain of steps to her chamber. She reached her bed and collapsed on her stomach.

  • • •

  When Anna next woke, it was day, her quarters entombed in shadows, the heavy drapes drawn to block out the sun. Her first thought was to find her dagger. She espied it on a low table pulled next to the bed. Her maid must have found it and placed it there. Although Anna doubted she could move to lift it, she took comfort knowing it was at hand. Across her chamber, near the hearth, a weary-looking Grainne slumped on the couch. Gilles sat next to her on a bench. Anna tried to move, and a sigh escaped.

  Grainne was immediately by her side. “M’lady, you’re awake.”

  Anna smiled weakly.

  “Gilles is here, m’lady. He wishes to speak to you. I can tell him to come back later.”

  Anna’s voice croaked from lack of use. “Now is fine, Grainne.”

  Her maid tipped a cup to her lips. “Only water for now, m’lady. Drink slowly.”

  Gilles knelt before her. “Lady Aubrianne, I have no words to express—” He choked. “What you did for Will, for all of us. I…”

  “It’s all right, Gilles. You would have done the same for me.”

  “That’s just it, m’lady,” he said, noticing her dagger and picking it up to study it. “I don’t know if I would have had the strength to do what you did.”

  “I know,” Anna stated simply. “You would have found the courage. You and Doreen and Will, you must let this go. To do otherwise, I—I don’t think I could survive again.”

  Gilles lowered his head and whispered, “I pledge my life to you, Lady Aubrianne. If you ever need it, it’s yours.” He held her dagger between them, and touched it first to his lips, then his forehead. It was an old oath, usually made with sword, though any blade would suffice. It was the strongest a person could give, an oath reserved for kings. Anna closed her eyes, accepting his promise of fealty, hoping she would never have to call upon it. Grainne pulled him away, pushed him from the room, and returned to Anna.

  “How is Will, Grainne?” Anna asked.

  “Healing, m’lady,” Grainne replied, “Now drink this; it will help you sleep.”

  “I can’t, Grainne. I must go to Lord Roger’s chamber this evening.”

  “What nonsense is this, m’lady? Lord Roger is gone. He’ll not return for a week.”

  “Gone?” she whispered.

  Grainne caringly smoothed the hair back from Anna’s cheek. “M’lady, ’twas two nights ago that I sent him word that you were not yet revived. He came to see for himself. Of course, I stayed; I would not leave you alone with him. He left just this morning.”

  “I have been senseless for three days? It is not possible.”

  “Three and a half, m’lady,” Grainne amended. “You woke many times but were incoherent. I’ve been dosing you with this tea. Today is the first time that you did not wake screaming.”

  Anna took a deep breath, refusing to forestall what she needed to know. “How bad is it?”

  “You’ve been healing for several days, m’lady, so you’ve slept through the worst of it.” Grainne frowned as she evaded the question.

  “Grainne, how bad?” Anna asked again.

  Her maid lifted her eyes and, with a voice tinged with rage, hissed, “It is—was—very bad. Nine lashes by that devil. I saw him do it, m’lady. He doubled his efforts when you stepped in, laughing as each stroke fell.

  “The wounds smell clean. There’s no rot,” Grainne went on. “I used Doreen’s entire supply of honey to prevent it. But you’ll wear the scars for the rest of your days. I’m so sorry, m’lady.” Tears coursed down Grainne’s cheeks.

  Anna’s eyes lost focus as if she were searching for a dream long forgotten. “It seems to me, Grainne, that I owe you twice now for my life. I will find a way to repay you before this is over. That is my oath to you.”

  Grainne grew angry. “You owe me nothing,
Lady Aubrianne. I had been dead those years before you came here. I died with Lady Isabel. It is you who have given me life. All of us our lives. Please, speak not in such a way again.”

  “If you will not let me express my gratitude, may I at least have more of your tea, Grainne?” Anna asked, humbled by her maid’s words. She accepted spoon after spoon of the intoxicating tea, and it wasn’t long before she fell back into a numbing sleep. Her last thought before she gave in to the comforting dark was this: pain or no, she would rise from her bed on the morrow.

  The next morning, Grainne was sleeping when Anna attempted to do just that. She found she had not even enough strength to roll to her side. She’d been lying on her stomach for days, and her arms lacked the power. Anna sighed in frustration, and Grainne, upon hearing the noise, blinked and immediately looked to her mistress with concern. Before Anna could tell her to rest, her maid hovered at her side.

  “I cannot get up on my own, Grainne. Can you help?” Anna asked.

  “Why don’t we roll you to your side first, let your blood get used to flowing in a different direction,” Grainne suggested. “Then we’ll work on sitting.”

  It was as good a plan as any, Anna thought. As she rocked forward, the scabs across her back stretched dangerously, but Grainne assured her that the wounds hadn’t opened. The pain was barely tolerable; she’d been lucky to have passed through the worst of it unconscious.

  “Another day, m’lady, and you’ll be able to move without risk of opening your wounds. Sit here, and I’ll run to the kitchen for you. I think you can handle some warm broth this time.”

  “This time,” Anna repeated to herself as Grainne hustled from the chamber.

  Later, Anna sipped her broth in silence while Grainne bustled about the room. Her maid had not told her everything about Roger’s visit, she was sure. Anna had but six days before his return. Six days to recover. Six days to prepare. She gazed with new intensity at one of the trunks that she’d brought from Chevring.

  Chapter Eighteen—Weapons and Armor

  During Anna’s recovery, Gilles had seen to it that the mares and foals were exercised and allowed to graze in the hills. Tullian, too, had been taken out, but on a lead, as he would not let any but Anna ride him.

  Anna was just finishing her lunch one day when Cellach paid a visit. He surprised Grainne by asking her to leave the chamber so that he could speak privately with his lady.

  “I have observed, Lady Aubrianne,” he said, then cleared his throat, “that you have been quiet of late.” She arched an eyebrow at him, and he forged ahead warily. “I saw the look you gave Lord Roger after the lashing. If you had had the strength, I’ve no doubt you would have tried to kill him. I can see you calculating just how best to dispose of him.”

  “You can stop there, Cellach,” Anna warned. “Do not think me so naïve that I would risk my life and attempt something so foolish. Do not presume to know my thoughts.”

  “No offense was meant, m’lady, only”—Cellach paused—“I do not think that such an attempt would be entirely foolish.”

  Anna was momentarily stunned. He’d read her strongest desire at her weakest moment, a desire she had intentionally not hidden from Roger. Realizing her error, she worried about the consequences. She sat down, a little too heavily, and winced.

  “Lady Aubrianne, Lord Roger’s return is imminent. I worry that your life here is about to worsen.” She waited while he tried to find the right words. “Of late, Lord Roger and his men have been watching me more closely, visiting the armory often. Their reasons are overcontrived.”

  “Cellach, I understand that you are unable to intercede on my behalf. Lord Roger would have you killed if he knew where your true loyalties rested.”

  “My loyalties. Yes. That is a good way to begin the conversation that we have both been avoiding. My loyalties lie with King Godwin and Aurelia, as do yours. I have not wanted to bring this notion to light, but I think we can both agree that Lord Roger has been involved in a plot to undermine our King’s rule. Would you agree, m’lady?”

  “It explains his many absences, and the strange men who have been passing through Stolweg.” At Cellach’s surprise, Anna continued, “I have seen them too, Cellach, coming in at night and leaving before first light. Who are they?”

  “Not Aurelians, I suspect,” he replied. “But we must have proof before acting, m’lady.”

  Cellach squared his shoulders before continuing. “I’ve been meaning to approach you about another matter. For a long time, I have thought that you should be taught some means of self-defense. Unfortunately, I cannot train you directly. You are being spied upon, and so too anyone who has contact with you. Do you remember the conversation we had regarding Carrick’s daughter?”

  Anna thought of a day not so long ago, when she and Will had ridden past the mill. Gorman was standing outside the home that Carrick and his daughter shared. He was holding the reins of his horse and those of Roger’s. Anna had thought it odd, for she knew Carrick to be on an errand outside Stolweg. As she and Will drew near the cottage, they heard what they at first thought was shouting. Then they recognized the noise for what it truly was: rutting.

  Roger had orchestrated the entire spectacle. He’d made sure that she knew Carrick was away, and he had, that same morning, demanded her schedule. Will had been the first to kick his mount into a gallop; Anna, mortified, followed. Gorman’s raucous laughter gave pursuit.

  “Maggie,” Anna guessed.

  “That’s the girl, yes,” Cellach said. “You see, before you came here, Maggie had set her eye on Will. But Will never returned her regard. Whether of her own accord or so ordered, it was Maggie who told Doreen about Will on the day of the lashing. How was Maggie able to see Will’s predicament and make it all the way to the kitchens in so short a time?”

  “She had foreknowledge,” Anna stated flatly.

  “That is not all she has, m’lady,” he added with an awkward expression. Anna knew the best way for Cellach to make his point was to remain silent until he was comfortable enough to speak. After a long pause during which he was unable to look her in the eye, he at last continued, “She has aspirations as well.”

  Anna snorted in an unladylike fashion. “Aspirations, is it? Such a pleasant way of telling me my husband isn’t faithful. But, Cellach, this is old news. It’s a relief, you know. I am not sure why that is true, but it is. Perhaps now my guilt for wanting him gone will abate.”

  “Your guilt?” he cried. “You have done nothing wrong.”

  “You, Cellach, would not understand,” Anna replied with a sigh. “You are not a woman.”

  Anna turned the topic back to Maggie. “I don’t know how she can be so duped by him. Doesn’t she realize it was his men who ran down her mother?”

  “M’lady, I watched your husband woo Lady Isabel; he was attentive and charming. He fooled Lord John. He fooled me,” Cellach admitted. “And everyone else here. What young maid would not fall for his affected gallantry?”

  “Does Maggie truly think he holds her in such esteem? He is only using her, as he uses everyone: Lady Isabel to obtain Stolweg, and now me, although I have yet to fathom the purpose. Surely something other than the horses.” She paused a moment. “Can we protect her?”

  “Protect Maggie? You are overly generous, m’lady.”

  “We must try for Carrick’s sake,” she explained. “One day, Cellach, this horrible state in which we find ourselves will end. This I believe in my soul. I want as few casualties as possible.” Anna brightened. “In the meantime, we can take advantage of this situation with Maggie. If Roger desires information about our doings, let us make sure he hears what we want him to hear.”

  “There is one more item to discuss, m’lady. I said that I could not prepare you, but Gilles can. When you are off with the mares, he can teach you the rudiments of self-defense. I can slip you a few weapons from the armory.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she told him. “I’m well enough equipped.” />
  He raised a ruddy eyebrow but forged ahead. “I may appear to be distancing myself from you in the months to come. But please know that your safety is my first priority.”

  After Cellach departed, Anna stared at the massive trunk with the secret compartment. Her thoughts traveled back to a day when she was but eight years of age and had just finished wrestling with three boys near the stable. They’d insulted her by saying she was a useless little girl. She took on all three at the same time, besting them all. Fists still clenched, a triumphant Anna saw her mother marching toward her. Her five-year-old sister Claire had tattled.

  Anna had known Lady Estelle would not be happy about her torn sleeve, nor overjoyed at seeing her bloodied lip. What she did not expect was her mother’s sad resignation. She uttered not a word, just motioned for Anna to follow to her grandmother’s room.

  “Wait here,” she’d been told, and then had stood dejected outside the door while they privately conversed. But she heard some of what was said.

  “She’s all yours, Mother.”

  “Are you surprised?” Anna’s grandmother had asked. “You knew this was probable.”

  “Why one of my daughters? And in a time of peace.”

  “We must honor the old ways. The traditions are not for us to question.”

  That day, Anna had seen both fear and hope in her mother’s face when she had turned her over to her grandmother’s tutelage. Her studies began with the history of the women in her line—ancestors who, in times of peace, were singled out to be healers; in times of unrest, warriors. On her twelfth birthday, her grandmother had summoned the Chevring master-at-arms, Osbert. He was to instruct Anna in all manners of weaponry.

  Osbert had soon found that Anna’s aim was exceptional. She never failed hitting the center of the target. It had taken only days to teach her to use a bow and then mere weeks for her to capture the subtle nuances of wind and moisture and their influence over trajectory. After the initial lessons, she’d practiced for hours, building strength and endurance.