by Amelia Brown
Men were clearing a portion of field amid the blooming chaos, while Sir Reeve lead the way. “The lady is adding a new mix.”
“A new mix?” Father Julian asked before Titus could voice his thoughts.
“Lady Luveday is a healer, and she asked if there was a space to plant healing herbs to add to the lotions and soaps.” He humped. “Nothing like Lady Claudia that one.” He looked up as if realizing what he had said. “Beg your pardon, My Lord; I didn’t mean…” He stammered and turned red, then pale.
Father Julian noted the man with some interest, while Titus turned to put him at ease. “As I don’t remember my late wife, be at ease Sir Reeve.” It wasn’t the first time someone had marked the difference between the ladies. Titus was about to ask a question, but once again, the priest was there before him. Rather than be annoyed, Titus thought it might be helpful if the other man asked most of the questions as they seemed to be of a similar mind.
“In what way do you mean? Are they physically different? Their temperaments? Their minds or attitudes?”
While Sir Reeve seemed to squirm in his saddle, Sir Navarro chuckled. “In almost every way, Father.” It took a moment of silence, but the man elaborated. “Except looks, I think they are rather similar in that regard.” Navarro seemed to be looking back in his memory. “Lady Claudia was a hand taller; her eyes were more blue than grey. She was slender and graceful.” An image of a woman flashed through Titus’s mind, one he had seen before in fleeting visions, glimpses which he could never tell if they were dream or memory. The woman looked on him with a curious expression in her eyes, they were neither cold nor welcoming, as if she expected something from him. He had seen the visage smiling lovingly at him, and raging, which only filled him with a bone-deep sorrow. He could finally put a name to the woman, but somehow the knowledge did not hurt as much as he expected.
Navarro continued, “Lady Luveday is…”
“Common.” Reeve supplied, but every other man in the group made a noise of disagreement or protest.
“No, Reeve. Though you think a lady should act as if she were above the rest of the house, there is nothing of the commoner in her.”
“Nor common, in the sense that she is like other ladies.” Sir Charles Templeton, youngest brother to one John Templeton, added thoughtfully.
“Aye, there is something unusual about the lady,” Navarro added as if still searching for something.
Titus prompted, “Is it something in her attitude?”
“Maybe,” the knight hedged. “There is something in the air around her that puts one at ease. She talks intelligently. I’d say her mind is as sharp as Lady Claudia’s ever was, but she listens when you speak…”
Father Julian countered, “Lady Claudia didn’t listen to her knights?” he asked rather incredulous.
Sir Reeve snorted. “Of course, she did. She wasn’t a fool!” Sir Navarro gave the younger man a quelling look, reminding him that he was speaking to his betters. “She listened to us when we brought matters before her.” He said stubbornly.
“But she had little time for matters outside of our duties, or how we performed them.” Sir Templeton ventured. Reeve glared at him.
“True, Charles. She only wanted to hear from us if we had something to report about the safety of the lands.”
“A lady can hardly care about the personal life of her household, as long as they do their duty.” Reeve scoffed.
“But it wasn’t just her knights.” Templeton countered. “She didn’t like hearing from anyone about anything outside of their duties, no matter the suggestion.”
“Aye,” Navarro chimed in again as he looked to the thoughtful expressions of the Father and Lord Pillar. “I think that some people just have a feeling for the welfare of others, and Lady Luveday is like that. She cares what is going on outside of our duties. She cares if we are well and… Aye, I would say… she cares if we are happy.” The older knight seemed to be confused by this and yet pleased.
“Do you think that it is because she is a healer?” Templeton pondered aloud.
Father Julian smiled. “Or perhaps she became a healer because she has such a care.”
Titus pondered that.
“She seemed to care a great deal for Lord St. James.” Anyone could hear the spite in Reeve’s voice, just before the man grunted. As the younger man road on the far side of the group, abreast with Sir Navarro as they paused to look over the fields, Titus could only wonder what reprimand the older knight had dealt him. If it were Titus, a swift side-kick would be just the thing.
The priest took up this suggestion and offered a bit of information making Titus wonder just what the priest was doing there. “Lady Luveday was a brief companion to St. James’s mother, Lady Jane, and to that Lady’s friend, Lady Emmalyn of Lander’s Keep.”
“The maternal Aunt of the King’s Champion, Iain De Lane.” Sir Templeton added with a bit of awe.
“The two have known each other for some time, and I’ve never seen a sign of anything more than friendship between them.” Sir Navarro supplied. “He comes and goes, mostly to check on her and bring messages from the King.”
The horse shifted restlessly, and Titus knew the group would move on at any moment. “What was she to the champion?” Even he had heard the tales of the battle with Sterling.
Navarro looked thoughtful, while Reeve turned to him with a piercing look. “Now that is a good question, isn’t it, My Lord.”
Navarro urged his mount forward. “Move on,” he called behind him as the rest fell in line.
The Father and he exchanged looks. It was a troubling reaction, but telling all the same, and once again Titus got the feeling that the priest knew a lot more than he was letting on.
Artair wiggled on his perch atop the outdoor bench and stared at his father across the table. Luveday watched the two out of the corner of her eye. Three days had passed since Titus had returned, and Benedict was once again on his way to court, carrying letters from Luveday, Titus and the Priest. Luveday looked toward the Father as he stood back and listened as Gemma and Beatrix recited the types of flowers in each growing season. Artair liked memorizing things as if it were a game. Titus looked like he had some idea of what was going on and why, or if he was a bored as Luveday expected him to be, he hid it well. Father Julian seemed more interested in the dynamic between father and son than in the lesson. Luveday had expected to see the Priest depart, if not right away after seeing Titus settled, then surely when Benedict left for court and offered to escort the man if he were headed in that direction. Luveday couldn’t figure the man out. He was polite, pious, and seemed kind yet his eyes were ever watchful, and Luveday constantly got the feeling that he was assessing the situation before him. For what reason, she couldn’t guess, but her gut told her that he was no ordinary Priest.
“What you don’t drink it?” Titus’s shock dragged Luveday’s attention away from Father Julian.
“No, sir you don’t drink it,” Artair said solemnly, his usual enthusiasm banked. Luveday couldn’t tell how the two were getting along. They were strangers, and Luveday wondered if they would ever be family. On top of the Lord trying to regain his memory, he was contending with a child who she wasn’t sure, even wanted a father. While Artair new that being lord one day meant a life far better than the one he had lead thus far, could a six-year-old comprehend what that entailed? On the other hand, could Titus?
The women looked up as Luveday came closer. Gemma looked as if she was handling these sessions well while Beatrix looked as if she were ready to throw up her hands and walk away. Having been Lady Claudia’s right hand, Beatrix new far more about the workings of Briar’s Gate, both inside and outside the manor, than anyone else, that didn’t mean she had the patience’s for it.
Spotting Luveday, Titus moved to his feet looking more the lord than ever these last few days. “You make spirits and don’t drink or sell them?”
Luveday smiled knowingly. “That’s right. The stills are in a separate work
shed.” She gestured to the building around them. “These are for the storage of flowers and infused oils as they cure.”
“I am missing something, am I not?” Titus stepped away from the bench, looking at Luveday, who turned to Gemma and Artair who was now standing atop his bench so that he was included with the adults.
Gemma smiled. “You see, My Lord. The stills produce small amounts of drink. It’s not worth it to sort them and cart them to town.”
Titus looked back at Luveday doubt written all over his face. “Gemma, why don’t you continue the lesson with Artair, and I will walk with Lord Titus out to the distillery.”
“Of course, My Lady.” Artair smiled at them, not unhappy to see them go. Luveday winked at him, causing in to giggle, as she walked beside his father. Passed the row of warehouses built one on top of each other as the production expanded, passed the hedgerow that marked the end of the manor property the fallowed a path that led away from the rest, it was paved, well maintained and easy to traverse.
“What is this?” He asked one it was clear they were alone. He gestured to the path before them.
“I hear it was your idea.” She commented and then turned to him a little shocked at herself. She wasn’t usually so tactless. “I am sorry.”
He laughed at her shock. “No apology need, lady. I know it is a hard thing for others to get used to, yet I would say you have done so better than most.” He liked the honey gold of her hair as it sat atop her head in a braided bun. He liked the plain and practical blue gown she wore, and how it reminded him of spring and cool water. He liked that she looked at him as a man, and not as if he were an oddity even after hearing his tale. Overall, he liked the lady too much.
“I would like to think that is because I am trying to see the world through your eyes.”
“And how does it look from where you are standing?” He asked as she looked ahead of them, not realizing he watched her so closely.
“New and yet familiar. Friendly, and I hope,” she turned to glance at him with a smile, “full of potential.”
“All of that?” he smiled softly at her.
“We are here,” she meant figuratively, “and there is no way but forward. I may not know the man you were, and as I am only getting to know the man before me.” She stopped then to look at him, catching him off guard. “I can only think that, despite all you have lost, the man in here,” she lightly placed her right hand over his heart, “was made a long time ago.” She stepped back as if realizing how close they were. “The things you learned long ago like your skills as a knight, your gift with languages, those did not leave you, and I am sure that the heart of you is still in here whether or not your memories return.”
Titus had no idea who this woman truly was, but he had the sudden urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. He took a step forward intending to do just that when a gruff, accented voice rang out over the bit of orchard they walked through. “My boy, there you be.”
Without thought, Titus called over his shoulder, “Not now Ham can’t you see I’m talking to a bonny Lady.” They stared at each other for a moment, wide-eyed.
A deep chuckle reached their ears, as both brows furrowed. Luveday spoke, uncomfortable, and trying to change the subject. “I didn’t know you had been introduced to the brewmaster.”
Titus’s brown had furrowed for a different reason. “I have not.” They both turned to see the large man standing just beyond a clump of trees. He was older, taller, and wilier than most men around the manor. He hailed from overseas, and his accent reminded Luveday of a brogue, though there was something a little different about it. Ham had spent more years brewing than most people lived, having learned the craft at his parents’ knees. It was said he was breastfed on the stuff and only weened thanks to sips of the spirits his mother brewed. Luveday almost believed it.
The two approached while Titus looked at the man in wonder. “There ya are, boy. Took you long enough to return to us.” The man slapped large hands on the Lord’s shoulders and gave him a good looking over. “You don’t look too changed, despite what they say happened to ya.” He humped and greeted the lady with a nod. “Forgot about all this aye, well I say there are some things a man might want to forget.” He looked at Titus knowingly, and glanced at the lady with a wink, “And there are things a man surely wants to remember.” Titus caught the wink, and the stern look the lady gave the brewmaster. “Come on in and take a seat, I had a feeling you would be coming by today.” The man led the way to a large house made of stone and opened a smaller door in the large gate on this side of the building. Titus followed, noting that the paved road led directly to the stillroom doors.
Luveday followed, watching the bemused expression on the Lord’s face with some concern. It was clear he had remembered Ham, but why this man and no other? Perhaps the old man was correct, and there was something that Titus wished to forget. Luveday paused just inside the doors to accustom herself to the darker interior, and to brace herself for the warmth of the stills. The set up was impressive. Copper and iron wove together to create a system of cylinders and pipes, that was a large still for hard spirits. If Luveday’s memory was right, the alcohol created was closest to gin. She had had a gin and tonic once, and her mother had been rather fond of the stuff. While it could be consumed, the potency of the batches they used for perfume making was too high to do so wisely.
Once her eyes adjusted, Luveday saw both men seated beside Ham’s long work table; three copper cups were lined up as the brewer poured out a dram for each of them. Luveday approached as Titus picked up his drink and eyed it warily. “There you go, My Lord.” Ham turned to her and held out the last cup. Luveday took it gingerly as the man looked at her knowingly. The lord hesitated a moment and threw back the liquor. He didn’t cough but smiled and held out the cup again. Luveday sipped her gin and watched the play between the men.
While Ham talked about his work, from forging the equipment that kept the distillery running, to brewing the mixes that became the gin, there was an easiness about the two she hadn’t witnessed before.
Luveday left to check over the supplies, noting that the two men talked animatedly while mentally making a list for the Brewmaster. While Ham was comfortable asking for herbs, spices, and items for the distillery, he didn’t ask for much himself. Luveday had taken it upon herself to send over a few things that would make his life a little easier, like burn salve, new thick leather gloves, and the like. He was a good man, and rightfully proud of his work, but without a woman to care for him, it was a rather spartan way of life.
“You brew the grain, and turn it into spirits for perfume?” Titus’s voice was closer as Luveday made the run along the back wall and the shelves that held the majority of the distillery’s supplies.
“Lady Claudia, rest her soul, left nary a drop for a drink, but ya know I always make a bottle or two for testing the brew.” He looked at Titus, “or maybe ya don’t, boy.” He shrugged and continued. “Her Ladyship here has let mix a few my spirits. Juniper berries are plentiful, and the spices she had in her stores are something else, boy. They come from places I have never heard of.” His deep chuckle made them smile. “What is it you’re looking for, My Lady? You know my place is right in order.” He stood tall before her, but despite his size, she wasn’t intimidated.
“I didn’t expect anything less Master Ham.” The man always got a charming smile on his face when she used his title. “We are making a trip into Court in a fortnight, and I wanted to know if there was anything you needed.”
He thought a moment, “nothing that I can reckon. You keep me well stocked.” He seemed very pleased by this, knowing that Lady Claudia often hoarded her ingredients in her final months. Luveday wondered that no one had comments on how changed the woman was. Paranoia leading to irrational behavior and secrecy, hoarding, violence, and drastic mood swings were some of the symptoms she had pieced together post humorously.
Luveday shook her head to dispel the depressing thoughts. “If
you think of anything send a message to the house, and I will see what we can do.”
Ham smiled showing a crooked grin. “I will, My Lady.” They both looked to Titus. “Can I keep the boy…” he cleared his throat sheepishly, “Do you mind if My Lord stays with me a while? We’ve got some things to talk about.” She got the hint and excused herself, noting how content the younger man looked. Somehow the idea that Ham and Titus had been some form of confidants was not as surprising as it should be. After all, the man had worked as a brew on the land well before the current lord was born. Luveday walked back to the house wondering what secrets they were sharing, but she also feared that Ham had more than a few hard truths for the boy and she was afraid some things would not stay buried.
Titus was somber on his trip to court, and while many attributed it to feeling anxious about meeting the King, those closer to Lord Pillar knew that his mood had changed some time before they prepared for the journey.
Luveday watched his back as they were shown to their accommodations inside the palace. Their rooms were next door to each other, which was convenient since Artair was staying with her, even though the relationship between father and son was progressing. Artair often clung to Luveday, and she understood that the boy had lost too much of his old life too quickly to feel comfortable despite the luxuries of being the long-lost heir. Titus was making an effort to bridge the gap but was still too new to his role to proceed with grace.
Luveday often thought that was what they all needed, a little more grace, in every sense of the word.
Artair was left to play with the princes, and some of the noblemen’s children as the adults gathered in the throne room to stand before the King and their peers. The hall fell strangely silent as they entered reminding Luveday of her last visit. Many of the same faces surrounded her. They looked on in wonder and confusion. The whispers started as they advanced, Luveday was attired in her best gown, the blue velvet that Henna and she had completed so long ago. Titus was dressed simply in a fine dark blue tunic and hose that did not match her but were in the same color family. They stopped a respectful distance from the King, who had come to stand at the end of the dais. He looked on his subject with wonder.
