The Lost Lady

by Amelia Brown

  “Yes, years going through the trial and error of trying to improve her work. There is a clear change in her notes; her thoughts become harder to follow. This change happened about six months before Lord Titus was killed.” Luveday noted. “I don’t doubt that the potions, even the fumes from brewing the plants could have caused a serious change in how her mind worked. The lady became fearful that people were trying to steal her secrets, that her husband no longer loved her and was seeking the arms of other women. Her ramblings go on. I think the sudden changes in temperament and signs of anger were only one of the effects of handling these herbs.”

  The King grew thoughtful for a moment, but the Queen had another question. “What did you do with the workroom?”

  Luveday sighed. “I tried to touch as little as possible, washed my hand thoroughly after leaving each time. I gave instructions to Beatrix and the women that the room was to remain locked and no one was to touch or take anything from it. I made it clear that I thought something in that room had harmed their lady. They looked suitably fearful. Hopefully, they will heed my warning and the room will be as I left it when I return.” Luveday looked to them. “I have no wish to take up after Claudia; I have no doubt my fate would be similar. I had thought of sending a missive to Lander’s Keep and Lady Emmalyn to talk to the local healer there by the name of Cassandra, or even send a letter to Father Quinn, who is knowledgeable in all sorts of plants and ask how best to go about destroying the herbs. I am afraid that if I bury or burn them somehow, they might poison the soil or some animals that come across the remains.”

  The King looked pleased by this answer. “So, no wish to use the herbs, Lady?”

  “Nay, your majesty. I am not skilled enough or foolish enough to risk it.” Luveday thought a moment. “I have to admit that what she hoped to do, had it worked, would have more than the desired effects, but I think that our methods and means are not knowledgeable enough to accomplish what she wanted without causing serious harm.”

  The Queen looked at her thoughtfully, while there was a narrowing of the King’s eyes as he asked, “You admire her, Lady Luveday?”

  Luveday thought about it for a moment. “I think the woman Lady Claudia was years ago and the woman I met were not the same person. The first, I think, I could have befriended. The lady I met could never have been.”

  The Queen nodded, and the King only looked at his wife but seemed satisfied by the answer.

  A few moments of silence passed before the King moved on. “Now, what to do with Briar’s Gate?”

  Luveday looked up while the Queen and King shared a conspiratorial look. A frisson of uneasy went down the Lady’s spine as she watched the flash of amusement pass between them. “What indeed, my dear husband?”

  They both looked to Luveday who instinctively pressed herself tight against her chair, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin.

  “The boy is not old enough to take over his duties, and given the mental state of his mother,” Luveday was about to protest that last statement, “We think it best to install someone of our choosing to oversee the house. The loss of such a thriving venture would be a detriment to the kingdom, don’t you think my dear.”

  “Yes, I do.” The Queen looked at her steadily while answering the question.

  “Briar’s Gate needs a new lady and new blood.” The King continued, and Luveday panicked.

  “Your Majesties, if I may.” She interrupted.

  The looking a little taken aback by the emotion in her tone but they nodded for her to continue.

  Taking a deep breath, Luveday tried to counter what she feared was coming as politely as she could. “I am honored that you would think to offer me such a great gift, but I believe that Artair will grow to be a man worthy of his Father’s name if he has a strong and steady hand to guide him. That being said, I would be happy to be his guardian, to preside over his household until he comes of age to marry or take over those duties for himself. I can’t take his inheritance away from him. So much has been stolen from him already… I would watch over him, but I can’t take Briar’s Gate from him.”

  The Queen gasped and looked to her husband who looked thoughtful rather than wroth. After a moment he smiled again. “You never cease to amaze, Lady Luveday. You do know what we were prepared to offer you?”

  Luveday nodded. “The lands and all the wealth they would provide. While I think I could continue the work there, probably with some ease, my heart would never settle knowing I had supplanted the rightful heir.”

  Laughing, the Queen shook her head. “I believe any other woman in your position would have said thank you and left without looking back, Lady.”

  “You are probably right your majesty, but as you have found, I am not like other ladies.” Her nod was almost solemn.

  “If not this, then what are we to give you for everything that you have done for us?” He asked earnestly.

  The Queen looked at her knowingly. “Husband, perhaps we should think on this more. The lady is too modest for her own good.” Luveday looked startled. “We have every intention of fulfilling our debt to you, Lady, but I see it will take more cunning for us to find something worthy of you.” The Queen gave her husband another enigmatic look, and both rose. “You may retire to your room before the evening meal and join us in an hour or so. If the boy is well, I am sure my sons wouldn’t mind sharing a meal with him. Your short visit to them this afternoon was all they could speak of.” Once again that maternal smile graced her face. “Do try to have some fun at the meal Luveday.” The couple looked at her as she rose and bowed gracefully despite the boy in her arms and fled.

  It was during dinner that Luveday realized the Queen had addressed her without a title and she was somewhat heartened by the fact. Augusta seemed to like her, but she found the Queen quite likable as well, though she had no hope of them becoming friends. Friendship with a Queen was something she didn’t even dream of aspiring too. The thought was almost laughable but seated next to Benedict and the Duke of Orland, who had asked her to call him John, Luveday felt a surreal sense, almost like an out of body experience. She looked down to the King at one end and the Queen at the other and chatted with nobility on all sides at what was a rather intimate dinner party. Her gown was plain, but by no means less than any other lady present, and Luveday smiled to herself with a slight twist on her lips.

  “What is the matter?” Benedict leaned closer as he took a sip of wine.

  Luveday almost laughed. “Nothing. Just not sure if I am here or still asleep.”

  He seemed to get her drift and smirked. “This is no dream, My Lady. You are officially a court favorite.” Now Luveday really had to fight to keep from laughing. She was far from a court favorite as many of the players were putout that she had no time or interest in political maneuvering. Court favorite equated to the flavor of the week in her mind, then again, when she thought of their royal highnesses, she didn’t get the feeling that their favor was bestowed on anyone undeserving. They were a shrewd and steady force that governed the kingdom with a fair but strong hand. She imagined that they gave a man his due, whether it was praise or punishment.

  A voice spoke from down the table drawing their attention. “Not joining the Wolf on his hunt, Lord St. James?” A man asked, and Luveday remembered him from her time in the enemy camp, in fact, most of the men captured by Sterling were present. Lord Henry Kilgrave waited for an answer from the man who stiffened beside her.

  Luveday tried not to react; she knew that news of De Lane would be forthcoming, after all, he was the King’s champion.

  “Nay, Kilgrave, not this time.” Benedict hid his discomfort fairly well.

  “Keeping the lady company, instead?” Another unfamiliar man asked. Luveday wondered if any were privy to the events surrounds De Lane’s wedding and their disappearance.

  “Damned remarkable, the way he can track his pray to ground. One might think he had a bit of wolf in him in truth.” Orland’s laughter had many around the table joining
in. Luveday was happy that the conversation was back to discussing the hunt for Sterling.

  “How long do you think it will take him this time?”

  “A reliable sighting, and a fresh trail…” Kilgrave calculated. “A fortnight, two on the outside.” Luveday wondered if they were placing bets.

  “So soon?” a lady asked around a bite.

  “I have seen him on the hunt, Lady Olive, and he is every bit as keen as the rumors say.”

  Luveday commented to herself, “that would make them facts, not rumors.” She was unaware that many heard, but they laughed and agreed. The Queen was the most vocal and gave her a strange piercing look. “Indeed, Lady Luveday, they are not rumors but truths.” She looked across the length of the table and caught her husband’s eye. “Nothing less should be expected of our champion, am I not right, my King?”

  “As always, my Queen.” He raised a glass. “To the Wolf and his hunt. May is prey be taken swiftly to ground!”

  Calls came from around the table. “Aye, to the Wolf.” “To De Lane.” Luveday raised her glass and felt more than one pair of eyes watching her as she echoed the cheer and sent up a silent prayer.

  “Are we sure this can be believed?” Luveday looked at the missive that Beatrix had handed her, though the writing was little more than chicken scratching, she could make out the meaning of the letter.

  “Aye, the tinker said he had it from the priest himself.” Beatrix nodded reassuringly.

  “See the man here and prepare him a meal if there are any leftovers from the midday repast.”

  Beatrix smiled at her as she left out the workroom door. “Aye, My Lady.”

  Luveday looked at the scrape of parchment in the light before her gaze sought out Artair where he trailed behind Sir Marcus Reeve like a puppy.

  Luveday still remembered the morning over a month ago when she and Artair were summoned to the throne room where Sir Marcus Reeve soon joined them. The look of anguish that passed his face broke many a heart. The fact that it was he who was charged with presenting her as Artair’s guardian, and the new, if the temporary lady of Briar’s Gate was a hard fact for him to swallow, but the man had proven to be beyond reproach. Though there was a brokenness about the man that she suspected was more than just the loss of his lady. Luveday thought it might have been love; love and betrayal. The truth about Artair seemed to have doubled the man’s pain. Now she looked at the letter in her hand, from the same priest how had helped Benedict with his search. News had come and from a very surprising person.

  The tinker was rushed in, and Luveday recognized him immediately. “Tinker Thom, How wonderful! Good morning.” She greeted truly happy to see him and wondered briefly, if she couldn’t send a letter to Emmalyn.

  The man removed his hat nervously but smiled at her. “And to you Lady, it’s been a good while since Tinker Thom had the pleasure of setting eyes on you.” He looked to the missive he had hidden in his cart for many a night. He had not been tempted to read its contents, no that he knew many words by heart. He was good at trading, and numbers, letters were not easy for him. All he had known was that the priest had been adamant that he deliver the missive as soon as possible, having heard Thom say he knew the lady for whom it was intended.

  Gesturing toward a chair in the eating nook, Luveday had commandeered for her study, Luveday looked at Beatrix and nodded in reassurance.

  “It isn’t bad news, is it Lady Luveday?” He nodded to the parchment before her and looked at the items scattered over the small round table. “I mean, it’s none of my business, but I always hate to be the barrier of ill tidings.”

  Luveday nodded. “Aye, don’t shoot the messenger and all that,” Luveday said absently to herself, but the tinker nodded solemnly. Luveday shook herself out of her thoughts to focus on the man. He looked as hale as ever, and not too wary from the journey. “It is not bad news Tinker, just very unexpected. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  Thom seemed to perk up. “Tinkers are a crafty lot, Lady; perhaps I can help.” He looked very eager.

  “Well,” Luveday sighed. “From what I can make out, there is a priest traveling from overseas; he has found a man who seems to hail from Briar’s Gate.”

  “Seems to?” The tinker asked. “Doesn’t he know?”

  “The man had been wounded some years ago and lost his memory of anything before that time.”

  The tinker nodded. “I’ve heard tales of men getting hit in the head and forgetting their life before that moment, even their name.”

  “Yes,” Luveday looked at the letter and the scribble of a drawing on the bottom left-hand corner. “It appears that the man has some knightly skills and has been protecting a village there. What things he had on him tell of a knight of Anora and a man of rank. But there is one thing the priest points to that ties him to Briar’s Gate specifically.”

  “What is that My Lady?” Tinker asked expectantly.

  Luveday turned the parchment to show the man the priest’s design. “It seems he bears a peculiar birthmark. One very familiar to me.” Luveday moved to show the rose to him, only to hear Beatrix gasp. The clatter of the tray as it hit the stone floor peeled like a bell and Luveday briefly wondered if it was a death knell, and for whom it tolled.

  The hall was filled with servants, knights, and workers. Luveday looked to Sir Navarro, the household knight, and Sir Reeve to calm the clamoring masses. Their raised voices only added to the noise, until her head began to ache.

  “NOW SEE HERE!” Reeve shouted hand on his sword hilt, but no one was afraid of his idle threat, they knew the man too well.

  Luveday looked around, spotted a metal soup spoon, and moved to the empty pitchers. The peel of the metal on metal was satisfying and brought back memories of another time.

  “Now,” Luveday spoke in a loud and clear voice that carried over the hushed gathering. “This is what we know thus far.” People settled onto wooden benches and looked up at her, a little awed. “A brother of Father Heim who was sent to us recently,” the crowd remembered the priest who had buried their lady, “has sent word of a man from a village in Canthus who bears the mark of the rose. He is of a similar age and physic as Lord Pillar.” There was a murmur rising, but she held up a hand. “This man has no memory of his life before six years ago, and yes, we are aware that Lord Pillar was killed during that time, though no body was ever found. Those who know this man, say he came from overseas, and he speaks with an Anorian accent.” She looked at Navarro who nodded. “There is a strong possibility that he is Lord Titus Pillar.”

  “But how can that be?” A man called out.

  Navarro answered in a deep, yet exasperated voice. “We don’t know. Perhaps he was picked up by smugglers off the coast, perhaps the men that were said to have killed him meant to ransom him instead, but wounded he got away.”

  “But didn’t return?” A man-at-arms asked, dumbfounded.

  Luveday spoke. “The wound to his head that took his memories would have been severe, and he could have forgotten everything, even his name.”

  “You think it is he, Lady Luveday?” There was some unrest, and Luveday wondered if they wished her to stay or go. They were just getting used to her, and no longer balking at her orders.

  “We will wait and see.” Luveday countered. “The priest and this man are journeying here. If it is Lord Pillar, then we hope that being at Briar’s Gate again will help his memory to return. If it is not Lord Pillar, but perhaps some kin, then we will see what the King says about his claim to the land. Artair is the heir, sanctioned by the King, and that will stand, but what this man’s arrival will mean to us, I don’t know.”

  “Sir Navarro and Mistress Beatrix will know if he is an imposter.” A woman pointed out.

  Luveday nodded.

  Sir Navarro stepped forward on her other side. “Any number of us will know if he is our Lord with just a glance,” many nodded at the knight’s words. “Have patience.”

  They looked to Luveday. “It is all we
can do, have patience and pray for resolution for whatever is to come.” They nodded and looked grim as they talked among themselves. Luveday moved to the head table to take her seat and motioned for the meal to begin.

  The return of the solemn atmosphere they had only just abandoned seemed a blow to Luveday. Was she never to find a place for herself? She looked to Artair and smiled at the tentative look he gave her.

  “Do you think it is my father, Luveday?” He asked as she cut off a piece of meat and shredded it for him.

  A troubled frown crossed the boy’s brow, and she longed to smooth it away. “I think it may be possible that he is.”

  “Is he a bad man, like Lady Claudia? Do you think he will try to hurt me?”

  Luveday couldn’t help herself and hugged the child with her left arm. “I don’t know the answers to those questions, Artair, but I do know I will do my best to protect you.” He looked at her and nodded. “You believe me?”

  She was surprised by the seriousness in him sometimes, especially when he replied, “Yes, I do,” and started to eat his meal. Luveday looked up to find Sir Reeve who looked at her and gave a sharp nod as if to say; he would too. Luveday turned back to look at Sir Navarro on his other side and found the man gave a similar gesture. Not by word but by deed, a sacred oath, she thought solemnly.

  Days passed much like any other; Spring turned toward Summer. Luveday filled each day with work, building out a routine for herself and her household and waiting with a growing seed of doubt. She feared the day when the awaited man would arrive. With one breath she prayed it was Pillar, and with the next, she asked to hold on to what she had. With each day she came to love Artair more, and the boy seemed to thrive under her care.

  “Higher, young lord.” Navarro cautioned as the boy paced off against a lad twice his size. “Arms up, and steady.” Luveday wondered how the stick like limbs of her charge could hold aloft the mock sword and shield he was learning to wield. While the knight had assured her that such training began around such an age, the two had both wondered how such a scrawny and ill-nourished boy would fair. Artair had surprised both with this gameness and fortitude. While he spent time, each day, being beaten by the older lads, Luveday also began the work of teaching him to be lord one day. The boy was young, smart, and eager, so she took advantage of it for however long it would last. By the time he was of age, Luveday planned for him to be both a cunning and powerful lord.