“But, m’lady—”
His cowardly plea was cut short as she pricked his neck. “Never your lady, Gorman.”
Then, using Larkin’s knife, she cut away part of his uniform to wipe the blade clean. “I’ll give you a head start.” She walked with measured steps to the cart, and then cut the rope that bound Garamantes. Gorman fled into the woods.
The mastiff sniffed at Anna, licking her outstretched hand. She thought of Roger’s shortsightedness in revealing the beast’s kill command. With the bloody scrap of Gorman’s uniform at its snout, she whispered a single word into the dog’s ear. Garamantes growled deep in his throat, then shot into the woods.
Anna became aware of the others in the clearing. The soldiers had been bound to the back of the cart. Grainne came to her; Anna shook her head. “See to Baldric and the guards. Stay with them. Help them if you’re able.”
“I am, my lady.”
Anna walked to where Lark stood. Holding his dagger, the black hilt covered with the red dust from the shattered ruby, the blade with the blood of Gorman, she handed it to him. “Your blade, their blood.”
“Anna—” he started. His next words were silenced by the resounding echoes of Garamantes’s snarls and Gorman’s screams.
“We can talk later, Lark,” Anna forestalled him. “Right now, Doreen needs me. I’ll meet you back at the keep.”
“I should come with you, Anna,” he said. “It might not be safe.”
“I won’t be alone, Lark,” she pointed out. “Besides, your friends need you more. Follow Grainne’s instructions; they’ll recover that much faster.” She ignored the questions in his eyes and kept her expression fixed. When he pulled her into his arms, a small sigh escaped her lips. She would have to remain strong for her people. Anna finally accepted that even with Roger’s death, her troubles were not over.
“Give me but a little time, Lark,” she begged, distancing herself from him.
Anna glanced back at the others. Grainne had already enlisted the help of Ailwen. Together, beginning with Baldric, they poured Grainne’s tincture of herbs down each man’s throat. Grainne told Ailwen to lay Baldric on his side. Seconds later, her first patient vomited. The poison that had managed to seep into his blood would have to wear off naturally.
Anna wanted nothing more than to quit this place. Roger might be gone and Gorman had been removed as a threat, but were there others who would try to exact revenge on her family? Will brought Tullian forward, and she remembered that Will’s arrow was the first to fly. She stepped back to study him. There was a new hardness in his eyes.
“After me, you had the most right, Will,” she acknowledged.
He nodded and laced his fingers to help her up. Gilles had mounted his horse; Doreen sat in front of him, encircled in his arms. She gave Anna a weak smile. Good, Anna thought. She was still awake. Dry blood stained her face, but there was nothing fresh leaking through the bandage wrapped around her head.
The others had loaded Roger’s body onto the small tumbrel that had held the cider. It was too short for its cargo. Bent at the knees, Roger’s lifeless limbs dangled sans grace. The captive soldiers stumbled behind as Carrick took the reins and set the horse to a fast clip. Will and the farmers brought up the rear.
Anna twisted in her saddle and looked back at Lark. He watched her even as he tried to help Trian. She was the first to turn away. How much time she needed, she didn’t know. The shock of being free of Roger was setting in. Too much had happened, too much remained unknown. But first, Anna had to tend to Doreen. Only afterward would she seek the privacy of her chamber.
Chapter Forty-Eight—The Clearing
When Baldric tried to sit up, Grainne put a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time,” she told him. “The poison will wear off soon.” She looked around. Larkin was helping Trian. The big guard could wait. And the young one, Tomas, she thought, was alert; he could wait as well. The smooth-looking fellow would need help immediately. He had downed two mugs.
“Larkin, and you,” she said, pointing at the guard who had affected paralysis. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“That’s Ailwen,” Larkin provided. “You’re holding Warin,” he added, nodding his head at the man Grainne was propping up.
“He’ll need our help first,” Grainne instructed.
“What can I do, good lady?” Ailwen asked, hesitantly meeting her gaze.
“You can tilt his head back while Larkin props him up. His mouth is slack enough that there should be no problem pouring this down his gullet.”
“Are you sure you can’t let him stay that way a bit longer?” Tomas begged. “He’s so quiet for once.” A few strained chuckles came from Baldric and Trian.
Grainne smiled at his jest. “Sorry,” she said, “not unless you would like to carry him back to the keep and plant him there. Much longer and he’ll be apt to stop breathing all together. After he swallows,” she added with more gravity, “be ready to turn him on his side. And stand back else you end up covered with his breakfast.”
She regarded Ailwen. “Ready?” At his nod, she upended her flagon into Warin’s mouth. Some trickled down his chin, but Grainne was pleased to see him swallow.
“Make sure he keeps on his side,” Grainne instructed after Warin gave a hearty retch. “Let’s see to the young guard.
“How came you to not drink?” Grainne asked Ailwen as they tended to Tomas.
“I saw Gorman signal to switch the casks and grew suspicious,” Ailwen explained. “I was distracted and couldn’t warn the others in time.”
“You spied one of us in the woods,” Grainne guessed.
“At first I thought it was the dog,” he related.
Grainne noticed that the horrible snarling and screaming had stopped.
Lark walked over. “I’m going to make sure the beast finished the job,” he stated, his eyes distant. “Can you help the others to Baldric’s side? There is much we need to discuss.”
“And Warin?” Ailwen asked.
“If he can groan, it’s likely he can hear. Just move him closer.”
Grainne frowned. Trian was standing, albeit unsteadily, and making his way over.
“I’m coming with you, Lark,” Trian declared. “It’s no use arguing.”
“You’ll only slow me down, Trian,” Lark complained. “You can hardly stand.”
“The only way for me to move faster is to get my blood flowing. Let’s go.” Trian rounded on his heel and all but reeled to the edge of the clearing. Lark shook his head and followed.
It didn’t take them long to find Gorman. The doomed soldier had been intent on escaping the dog, not hiding his trail. It was a gruesome sight. Lark knelt and felt for a pulse on Gorman’s wrist. It was impossible to find one on the man’s shredded neck. The hand he was holding was missing a finger; another digit hung by a strip of skin. But it was Gorman’s face that gave them pause. The dog had ravaged it.
“Too bad about the beast,” Trian said as he frowned down at the mastiff. Lark gave up finding a heartbeat and spared a moment for the animal. He was spread over Gorman’s chest, staring unseeingly into the forest. Gorman’s hand still held the hilt of the knife that was embedded in the top of Garamantes’s head.
“We’ll bury the dog,” Lark allowed. “Let the carrion birds have Gorman.”
“Lark, are you all right?”
“No, I’m not,” Larkin admitted, “but I will be when this is over.” He nudged Gorman’s dead body with his toe. “Lord Roger and this man, you cannot imagine. They’re lucky to be dead. I only regret that I was not the one doing the killing.”
“Lady Aubrianne must be a formidable woman, Lark,” Trian stated. “I can’t imagine the strength it took to be married to a man such as Roger.”
“No, you can’t. She is stronger than even she realizes. Stronger than us all, I fear.”
Before Trian could ask him what he meant, Lark set to work covering the dog with rocks. After one last look at Gorman, Trian turned
to help.
• • •
Lord Baldric and Tomas, Larkin observed upon returning to the clearing, were sitting upright. Warin was lying on his side, and Ailwen was attempting to prop him up.
“Is Gorman dead?” Baldric asked.
“Quite,” Trian replied when Lark remained silent. “The dog, too.”
Baldric cleared his throat. “We need to talk, men. Why don’t you start, Lark? I think Lady Aubrianne has told you much already. If you know more, Grainne, please jump in.”
Lark began the story with Anna’s arrival at Stolweg and her life over the past three years. His eyes darkened when he hinted at Lady Aubrianne’s ordeal.
“We decided to act before we knew your cider was drugged,” Grainne explained to the assembled men. Before Baldric could speak, she continued hastily, “Forgive us. We believed our task would be easier if you were out of harm’s way. We would never have allowed them to hurt you. Roger and his men were always targeted.”
“I wondered how it was possible that you had the exact draught we would need to recover,” he commented. “But you should have trusted me. You can trust me. We could have spared you from—”
“We did not know that at the time, m’lord,” Grainne interrupted. “And we had to move before our lady returned. You see, Lady Aubrianne had reached her end, just as Lady Isabel had.”
“Her end?” Baldric asked.
“She was going to pit herself against Lord Roger and would have done so at the expense of her life. We were not willing to lose her.”
Baldric looked at Lark for confirmation, and then nodded appreciatively. “So many blows to Lord Roger, it’s impossible to determine which killed him. I believe King Godwin will be relieved; it will save him from dealing with a charge of treason. But how did you know that Lady Aubrianne was going to act?” Baldric asked.
“The morning you came, my mistress was changed. It was much the same with Lady Isabel the night before her death.”
Lark caught her eye. “Lady Isabel did not jump to her death as once thought,” Lark provided, placing his hand on Grainne’s. “She was murdered by Roger, or on his orders. Go ahead, Grainne. Tell us the rest.”
She told Baldric of Lord Roger’s abuse of first Lady Isabel and later Lady Aubrianne. She began with the story of Will’s lashing. “Lady Aubrianne saved Will. He was to receive fifteen blows. Six were dealt. Lady Aubrianne t-took the rest.”
Baldric was stunned. “God’s oath, is this true?” But Lark’s gaze was fixed on some point in the distance.
“Lord Roger,” Grainne resumed, her voice cracking, “had summoned Lady Aubrianne to his chamber the night before your arrival. Something terrible must have happened, for she returned much changed. I’ve never seen her so determined, and so resigned.”
“So you deduced that she was going to kill him?” Baldric asked.
Grainne nodded. “We believed she only held back because she was worried about Chevring. Will overheard her asking Cellach to take a message to her parents, to warn them.”
“Damn. The message!” Lark interjected. “Baldric, this was delivered this morning, after you left the keep.” He pulled out the letter from his tunic.
Baldric wasted no time breaking the royal seal and reading the missive. “Good Lord, no!” he exclaimed. “This cannot be!” He handed the parchment back to Lark.
“Not Chevring,” Lark stated, horrified.
“What about Chevring?” Grainne demanded.
“Destroyed, Grainne,” Baldric answered. “Every man, woman, and child is presumed dead.”
“I have to leave!” Grainne cried. “I have to help Lady Aubrianne. If someone tells her…” She jumped up, hastening to the narrow road that would lead her to the keep.
Lark rose to join her, but Ailwen had already readied his mount and was putting a lead on one of the soldier’s horses. “I’ll see her back safely,” he offered. “Baldric needs you here. You missed much while you were away.”
“Tell her I…” he started, then lost his words when he noticed the others giving him peculiar looks. “Tell her that we will return soon.” Ailwen nodded, and Lark took his place next to Baldric once more.
“Does the message say how Chevring was destroyed?” Warin asked him, finally sitting up on his own.
“It does not,” Lark replied. “Only that it is gone.” He stared down the path where Anna had ridden, wishing more than anything that he could be with her.
“You must have a sense of Lady Aubrianne’s character, Lark,” Baldric said. “Will she survive this news?”
Lark swept his eyes to Baldric and replied, “It will only make her stronger. Baldric, I—”
“We’re almost done here, Lark,” he interrupted. “I’m beginning to think there is more to Lady Aubrianne than meets the eye.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Lark told them as they resumed their council in the clearing. “Lady Anna began an unorthodox training when she was quite young. There’s a gift that runs on her mother’s side of the family. Every few generations, a girl is born with certain talents. Swordplay, quarterstaff, knives, and bow. You name it, she’s mastered it.”
“But she’s only a woman,” Tomas scoffed. “Granted, she’s tall and quick, but she’s thin.”
“Not thin, Tomas. Lean,” Lark corrected. “She is all muscle and coiled to strike any time. I know. She bested me at quarterstaff.”
At their disbelief, Lark expounded, giving them an accounting of their bout.
“So she caught you unexpectedly,” Warin interjected.
“Yes, but not in the way that you are thinking. First, she intentionally dropped her guard. I continued my swing, one I thought she would block, but my staff connected with her side. I stopped to see if she was hurt. Before I knew what had happened, I was flat on my back with the end of her pole at my throat. It was a neat little trick. You should ask her to show you, Tomas.” Lark noticed a strange look on Baldric’s face. “What is it, Baldric?”
“I’ve heard rumors about such women,” he replied. “The Queen has been searching for the descendants of Lady Jeanne for years. Your mother, Lark, has been helping her.” Baldric stared down the trail that led back to Stolweg Keep.
“Who is Lady Jeanne?” Tomas inquired.
“Lady Jeanne fought in the Great War against Nifolhad,” Warin explained. “The King’s scholars claim that she fought better than most men. And tracing further back in history, you’ll find similar women in every war. Lady Jeanne was said to have descended from those women. If Lady Aubrianne is a direct descendant…”
Lark turned to Baldric. “Are you going to tell us the rest?”
His mentor drew his gaze from the trail and focused on Lark before speaking. “There is always such a warrior in times of great strife. If Aubrianne is the latest incarnation of her ancestors, then her existence heralds more than a single lord’s grasp for power. It suggests that another war is upon us.”
Lark turned away and felt Baldric’s hand on his shoulder. “Such women are marked, Lark. They have no choice but to be strong. Anything less does not occur to them.”
• • •
Ailwen trotted up to the half-running, half-walking Grainne. “It’ll take you all day to return on foot. I’ve brought a horse for you and will see you safely to the keep.”
Grainne stopped. She ogled the horse and shuddered. She hesitated but a moment before screwing her courage tighter and putting her hand on the saddle’s pommel. If it took her having to ride a beast to help Lady Aubrianne, she would do it. When she lifted her foot to the stirrup, the horse snorted, and Grainne shrieked and stumbled back. Not of the Chevring line, the gelding startled and bolted back the way it had come.
“Are you hurt?” Ailwen asked with concern. When she shook her head, he held out his hand. “Let me take you, then.”
Ailwen hoisted her into his saddle. His arm circled protectively around her waist. “You can hold the pommel if it will help,” he offered.
“What’s i
ts name?” she nervously asked.
“Her name is Hellfire.” Grainne’s hands shot out to hold the saddle horn with a white-knuckled grip, and she heard Ailwen chuckle. He kicked his mare forward. “It’s a misnomer, Grainne. I promise. My horse has the sweetest disposition in the world.”
“Oh,” Grainne managed to squeak.
“I’m going to speed up our pace,” he told her. “Just a nice, easy canter to spare you some jarring. We’ll reach the keep much faster. Ready?”
Grainne closed her eyes and shrank back into the strong chest behind her. Ailwen held her tighter as Hellfire found her gait. Grainne decided she might not ever like the sensation of such a large creature moving underneath her, but she certainly fancied the feel of Ailwen. They would be back at the keep in no time at all.
Chapter Forty-Nine—Chin High
As they rode into the courtyard and to the stable, Anna and her friends earned more than a few curious looks. Several of Roger’s men loitered about, others hurried to the main gate. Only those few who were born at Stolweg remained to face the scrutiny of Lord Baldric. For any of these men, only time would tell. Anna hoped they would redeem themselves.
The sound of the cart rolling into the courtyard caught her attention. After handing over Tullian’s reins, she headed out of the stable. Carrick, who had driven the cart, was doing his best to hold back his daughter.
The girl was crying hysterically, beating her fists against her father’s chest; she’d seen Roger’s body. Everyone in the courtyard had turned to witness the spectacle. When Maggie noticed Anna, she flew at her, hands upraised like claws. “You killed him!” she screamed. Anna grabbed the tiny wrists, easily deflecting the attack.
“Control yourself,” she said in a voice too low to be heard by the onlookers. “There are only a few here who know of your shameful behavior. If you continue your ranting, all will come to understand your misfortunate attachment to my husband.”
Maggie pulled herself up as if she were a queen. “Your husband!” she spat, caring not that her father was standing next to her. “Your husband cared nothing for you. He would have rather seen you dead than be married to you.”
Wild Lavender: The Aurelian Guard - Book One Page 24
