by Amelia Brown
“Just so,” Stern looked at her with a small smile, and they both knew the wheels were turning. The questions she didn’t ask aloud were perhaps the most pressing. What else might Father Julian have been sent to Briar’s Gate for? And what tales might he have told the Queen?
Luveday counted herself lucky or was it a miracle that she had made it out of the royal court without a marriage proposal. She had been dreading nearly every moment since Titus had suggested it to her. Artair road in front of his father decided it was better to split his time between the two of them. They chatted amiably together, though Titus had proved he could handle the child’s rare meltdowns, she still felt the space between them.
She had been left to her thoughts for a while as they journeyed home. Titus’s words had settled over her, and Luveday wondered about the future and avenues she had never considered before. How many times had she looked into Artair’s upturned face and loved him as if he were her own? If she married Titus, she could have that. She could have a beautiful home, a beautiful and messy little boy and perhaps even more to come. She had stepped into those shoes with easy, becoming Lady of Briar’s Gate in truth would take only a ceremony, and a few spoke words. So, why was she hesitating?
The fact that she had yet to talk with Benedict was a big issue. He had become her sounding board as of late. Was it the fact that there were no other women she trusted to guide her? Was it something to do with De Lane? Though she had heard hints of the trouble with Christabel and her odious father, she had not been about to glean the truth of the matter, and she was too emotionally involved to ask outright. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Her hand went to her girdle, the wide cloth road higher on her waist for traveling than the hip-hugger she wore with her daily gowns. Pressed between it and her gown was a letter, one from St. James that she hoped would answer some of the lingering questions. It seemed Stern had forgotten to give it to Luveday until it was time for them to depart. He had passed it surreptitiously to her and Luveday had slipped it behind her girdle without thought. They had stopped once already, but Luveday didn’t feel she had the privacy to read it yet.
Why was she even hiding the missive from the others? They knew she spoke to Benedict often. The fact that he wrote to her would be no surprise, especially since he left their group on the King’s errand so quickly. She vowed that at the next break she would see what the letter held.
Two hours later she sat under the branches of an oak tree; the leaves shaded her from the hot midday sun. She watched father and son filling waterskins from the cool stream winding its way through the small wood. She pulled out the letter and opened it as men milled around under the canopy of trees, not hurried to return to the heat of the dusty roads.
The wax seal held the imprint of St. James’s ring and was just warm enough to make removing it a little easier. Luveday had gotten used to their style of writing letters. People didn’t waste space or fine paper by formatting a letter as she was used to. While the missive had all the usual elements, it was one large paragraph, with Benedict’s signature at the bottom in a flourish. She began reading, not sure what to expect.
“Written the afternoon of the fifteenth day of Thane’s Month, mid-summer at the royal court of King Edward the Third.” Luveday noted that would have been the day she had last seen him. “Dear Lady Luveday, I am sorry to be writing this so hastily, but as you know by now, I am at the mercy of my King. De Lane and I will travel to Sterling Castle to deliver the news of his death to his mother, to set men to guard the castle and to install a Lord there until the King’s final decision is made, but that is not why I wished to write to you. I have hesitated too long, and that is my fault. I wanted to spare you talk of anything unpleasant as I know your emotions are still raw after leaving Lander’s Keep. For over a moon I have known the truth and yet have not confided in you. In fact, I went so far as to make sure no rumors reached your ears. Many know that you left the keep before the marriage ceremony was completed. What happened afterword is a tale I do not have the time or space to recount, other than to say that Iain did not,” and here he underlined the word not, “marry Lady Christabel that day, or any day since.” Luveday looked up, not seeing the happy brook before her, but envisioning her last glimpse of Iain and Christabel standing on the steps of the Chapel. The vows were spoken before the church, but the ceremony wasn’t complete until the blessings were said inside the chapel. What could have happened in so short a time? “I pray you will be patient and wait until the tale is told. I know the King and Queen had plans in store for you, and while I know they look to bettering your future, I ask that you wait a little longer and trust me. Ever yours, Benedict St. James.”
Luveday turned the parchment over looking for some postscript, anything more that might clue her into what was going on, but there was nothing.
“What is that My Lady?” Artair asked plopping down beside her left knee, sprinkling water across her and the letter as he shook out his wet hair.
Luveday mentally shook herself and turned to the boy smiling at his happy face. “Did you take a bunk in the steam?”
He laughed. “Didn’t you see? Father dumped his waterskin over my head when I said I wished the steam were deep enough to swim in.” The boy looked at the letter and over to his father who stood not a few feet away from Luveday’s outstretched legs. The look of concern on his face was quickly replaced with a smirk. “The boy leaned in and asked quietly, “Maybe someday you can teach me to swim?” The hopeful expression on his face was endearing.
Luveday nodded a little and looked to Titus. “I am sorry I missed it, but I was reading the letter.” She flapped the parchment she still held in her right hand as Titus dropped her full waterskin at her feet and settled on her right. The three of them lounged on her cloak between the large roots of the tree and looked to the letter. Luveday could tell that Titus read it quickly and his frown was deep as he settled back to look at the men around them.
“Whose it from?” The boy asked.
Luveday smiled at him. “Lord St. James. He was telling me that he was going to Sterling Castle and so he couldn’t escort us home.” Though Benedict hadn’t sait those words exactly, she thought it would help to settle some of the boy’s questions.
“Will he come home soon?” Artair asked in that childish way where they believe that their home is everyone’s home.
“I don’t know when he will return to Briar’s Gate, but his home is at Lion’s Head. He was sent to Sterling Castle on the King’s business, so it might be awhile before we see him again.” The boy nodded and got up to run off toward the stream again. Titus’s hand closed over her own crushing the paper. She looked at him a little startled.
“Is it he or De Lane you are waiting for?” He asked but didn’t look at her. He watched the boy, and she turned to do the same, though he didn’t let go of her hand. “What is between you?” His voice was pitched low so as not to carry.
Luveday decided to answer truthfully and in full, not knowing what would happen, but tired of the tension between them. “I would say that the relationship between St. James and myself is more familial than romantic.” Titus didn’t relax. “We care for each other but not enough to call it love, as in the love between a man and his wife.”
His voice was gruff, contrasting with the joy for the boy running before them. “And De Lane?”
Luveday took in a deep breath, to steady herself and to expel her own emotions. “That is harder to say. I left because,” she was wary of what this man might think of her but continued. “there was more emotion than good sense. I knew that if I stayed, he would marry another, and yet I think… No. I know, I was the one his heart wanted. He was the one my heart wanted, but I wasn’t what his people needed. The King had already blessed the betrothal between them, and they were counting down the days until the wedding when I arrived at Lander’s Keep.”
“You didn’t stay.” It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway.
“There would have b
een shame and heartache.” She said simply and raised her other hand to wave at Artair as he chased a bird beside the stream, still holding on to Titus.
“And now?” He asked the hardest question, and she finally looked at him, to find he had been watching her for some time.
Luveday didn’t look away; she was committed to telling the truth. “I don’t know what happens now, but I will choose a path I can live with, and hope the future is brighter.”
Titus finally let go of her as Artair rushed back to them, stumbling into Luveday’s lap laughing all the way. His father rose and patted the boy on the head. “A few more moments and then we must move on.”
They nodded, and Artair wrapped his arms around Luveday in a fierce hug. When they had untangled themselves, and Luveday started to rise, the boy asked what they were talking about. Luveday’s answer was truthful if purposefully vague, “Things that men and women talk about.” She ruffled his hair and asked him to help her gather her things and brush off her cloak. Happy chatter accompanied her thought as they readied to continue their journey, and Luveday wondered if Briar’s Gate would truly be home.
Days passed, and by the time the familiar field of Briar’s Gate appeared before them, the travelers where wore through and more than ready to be home. The group seemed quitter without Benedict and Father Julian; both had lent intelligence and charm to the conversations on the road. Luveday found it hard to entertain Artair and herself for the entire journey. Titus shared some amusing adventures of his time in Canthus, where he lived by selling his sword arm. More often than not it seemed he ended up doing more than he was paid for a true knight in shining armor. Luveday liked the tales thought she thought that he was leaving out a good deal to make them age appropriate.
By the time they entered the gates, and were ushered into the hall for refreshments, several things had happened. One, Beatrix had indeed prepared a meal thanks to the rider they sent ahead, two, another rider had arrived saying that a large group of the King’s men would be arriving in a few days. Titus commented, “The rider could have overtaken us on the road,” thinking that the writ the King had promised him was finished and being delivered.
Luveday wondered about that, but they had stopped many times to accommodate herself and Artair, where a single rider could have made much better time if he pushed through. Beatrix also whispered that there was some news of Leah and Luveday’s heart lodged in her throat. Beatrix’s expression was somewhere between sorrow for the boy and concern for her friend, or at least she hoped it was nothing more serious. Luveday said she would take a moment to look over her study as Father and son went to their rooms to wash and change out of their dusty travel garments. Titus looked at her questioningly, but she waved him away but mouthed she had something to see to once Artair’s back was turned. Pillar nodded, letting her know they would talk later.
News of Leah took priority over Luveday’s need to be clean. They made their way to the little nook that was Luveday’s office, or study might had been the right word. She had not been able to use the one in the tower after associating it with Sterling, and Claudia, she had left it alone, and was happy to see Titus using it for his own purposes now. Beatrix wore an apron which she was twisting into knots as a man Luveday had seen about the manor came into the area. “This be John, My Lady.” She introduced the man and Luveday wondered if he were the same John Leah had set to wait for Benedict on the road. “He has news.” A tall, lean and anxious man nodded a greeting to her. Luveday looked at his workworn hands, his downcast eyes and his patched clothing and took a breath to remind herself to go slowly and not demand the news from him.
“Aye, My Lady, I be John Farrow, I keep the south-west field and see to the fowl of the keep.” He said as a way of introduction.
“Thank you, John,” the man blushed at her words as he twisted what she assumed was a hat in his hands. “You have news of Leah?” She prompted after a moment.
“Yes, lady.” He jumped nervously, causing Luveday’s anxiety to double. Their nervousness was making her nervous.
“I took a trip over to Pyne-on-the-Abbey while you were away.” He began. “I was visiting my sister and taking them a piggle for the new baby when I was stopped by a woman who works at the abbey.” He paused to look at Beatrix, “She remembered I was from Briar’s Gate, you see, and said there was an older woman who arrived not long ago who claimed to be from here, asking for sanctuary at the abbey.” Luveday nodded for him to continue as she looked at Beatrix who nodded vigorously back at her as if to verify John’s every word. “Well, I talked to her a while, but she wouldn’t tell me the woman’s name, only asked if I knew someone who she said looks a lot like our Leah and asked if the woman had any family as she was not in the best of health.”
“Oh, Leah.” Beatrix covered her mouth with the hand that still clutched the apron, fighting tears.
She had to prompt him to speak again as tears were gathering in the man’s eyes as well. “What happened then, John?” She blinked fighting back the collective emotion.
“Well,” he thought a moment. “We parted ways, I visited my sister and stayed a night and came back home as planned. I stopped by the kitchen early the next morning and told Beatrix what I heard and asked if you had returned, but she said you were still at court,” John said uneasily. “Did I do wrong, My Lady?”
“No, John.” Luveday tried to reassure him. “You know we have been looking for Leah since she left,” the man nodded, “but she is not in any trouble. We will have to send someone to the Abbey.” She thought a moment and knew she had to ask Titus before making a plan of action. “How far away is the Abbey?” She asked, knowing Pyne-on-the-Abbey was a nearby village not too far north on the coast. It was rather large thanks to the Abbey’s influence and the fishing harbor. She had hoped to visit if soon, but the return of Titus had changed all of her plans.
“Oh, all most a full day on foot My Lady.” John offered.
A stray thought had Luveday asking, “You walked the pig?” She looked to the man who answered with a smile.
“No, My Lady, it was a little thing, so I carried him in a shoulder basket.” He seemed to finally settle in her presence. “May I go now, My Lady?”
Luveday shook off her thoughts to thank him. “Yes, John, and thank you for bringing news. Beatrix send him off with something from the kitchen if the meal is done.”
John tried to protest, but Beatrix nodded to her lady and shooed him out.
Luveday left for her room noting that someone had left a note the piece of slate she used as a chalkboard. A messy hand had written something about Ham and Gemma; she’d have to figure it out later.
Once cleaned and changed she met Titus on the stairs down to the Hall. He looked her up and down before inquiring about the news she had hinted to earlier. Of course, he already knew about Leah and her role in Artair’s life. She made sure the boy could not overhear their conversation, and filled him in on the rest, finishing with the suggestion that they retrieve the elder woman. “Leah should be brought home, especially if her health is as poor as the woman in Pyne-on-the-Abbey suggested.” Titus nodded but was still thinking it over.
“And if she dies?” He asked abruptly.
Luveday had a visceral reaction, not because she had become so fond of the woman, but on Artair’s behalf. “Then she can die and be buried here,” Luveday said softly.
“Do you wish to go, or should we send someone else?” It was not something Luveday had thought through. Her first reaction was to say of course she should go, but was their someone better suited, and how would they keep the news from Artair until they knew how Leah faired?
Beatrix was too emotional; she would cry so much Leah wouldn’t know what was going on. Luveday would be missed, but she could go, and perhaps take Gemma with her, thought the girl was working hard making perfume, and she wasn’t sure the girl could be spared. Coming to a decision, she answered, “I will go, tomorrow. Early, I think.” He nodded. “I will take Sir Templeton, John an
d Clair with me, it that sound good to you.”
“Of course, I hope you find the woman well.” Titus was about to turn and head down the stairs, but she stopped him. “Do you wish to come as well?”
He thought a moment and looked at her but shook his head. “No, I will be of more use here.”
Luveday nodded, not sure but thinking she understood his reasons. “And if she is well and I can bring her home, would you like to speak to her?”
Titus’s eyes were piercing, “Yes I would.”
Pyne-on-the-Abbey was a bustling metropolis compared to the country villages she’s seen thus far. The Abbey was not a cloister, so there were more friars and Fathers than nuns, though the building and gardens were similar in enough ways to make her think of Lander’s Keep, she was not as nostalgic as she had feared she might be. Sir Templeton was not as gruff as his older brother, but then again, there was more than a decade separating them. Clair, small and quiet had been overwhelmed by the news that they were traveling to retrieve Leah. Luveday got the feeling that many of the young ones looked at the older woman as a mother or grandmother figure. John drove the cart, but the ride to the Abbey was rather somber, and Luveday hoped that it was not foreshadowing things to come. She fervently prayed that the woman had rallied, and they were not bringing back dark tidings.
Sir Templeton and John disappeared, seeing to the horses and chatting with the Friars as she and Clair were lead into the visitor’s wing once they said they were there to see Leah of Briar’s Gate. The aged Friar didn’t pretend not to know who they were looking for but took them right in without even a word.
Luveday had her bag of healing supplies having spent some of her time stocking up and making new medicines that the manor didn’t seem to have. She was a prepared as she could be, but both women hesitated outside of the little door. Neither wanted to open it for fear of what they might find, but Luveday squared her shoulders and pushed onward. Leah was pale, the light from a high window not enough to brighten the room. A candle burned in the dark space though it was still late afternoon. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust before Luveday could see the other woman in the room. She was younger, but still well past middle-aged. Luveday nodded to her and introduced herself waving the woman to stay seated as she did so. “I am Lady Luveday of Briar’s Gate, this is Clair,” she gestured to the girl who followed her in. Luveday saw Leah’s eyes flutter and open. “How is she?” She asked softly.
