by Amelia Brown
The other woman gestured, but before she could speak her patient answered for her. “I am still here young Lady.” Leah’s voice sounded hoarse but stronger than she expected. “Found me at last, have you?”
Clair rushed to Leah’s side and took up the older woman’s hands. “Oh, Leah, we have missed you.” She whispered, and Luveday thought she say tears trek down the girl’s checks. Luveday looked to the other woman on motioned for the two of them to step outside for a moment. She didn’t have to ask again.
“Leah had a hard journey here.” She said, looking the Lady square in the eye, but Luveday only nodded. She could imagine Leah fleeing after her secret had come to life. Luveday wondered if she had heard the news of Titus’s return or if her illness had kept the story from reaching her. “She is strong for her age, but her lungs didn’t fare so well. We’ve been giving her teas to drink, and though they help, I can’t say if she will ever fully recover.”
She thanked the woman, who seemed a bit surprised by the gesture. “I have some healing skills; I will see if she is well enough to take home.” Luveday paused, “Thank you…” The woman had not offered her name.
“No thanks are needed.” She looked inside at Leah who met her gaze and nodded. Turning back to the lady, she said, “Home is where she belongs,” and the other woman left without another word.
Luveday and Clair spent the night in the room. Luveday’s medicines worked no better than the ones the Abbey had provided, but by morning she was sure that Leah was strong enough to travel. The woman was determined to go home and doubly so after Luveday had confirmed that the rumors that Titus had returned were ture. Luveday told the tale as she helped the woman sit up and eat the hearty broth brought to all of them. Tears had rolled silently down from the woman’s eyes as Luveday finished her tale while Clair sat silently in the corner, eating her meal. “Thank the Creator he has returned. I worried for the boy, though I knew you would take care of him.” She took Luveday’s hand, and she squeezed it back. “Not long now.” She said and repeated the same phrase as they nestled her onto the pallet of blankest for the journey home.
The courtyard was in an uproar as they pulled the cart to a stop before the front doors. It was times like this that Luveday wished the house had a proper curtain wall, like a real castle, as shouts of riders approaching rang out across the way. The gate was a heavy affair with a watch atop it, but the walls to either side were no thicker than the average stone wall and didn’t encircle the house. They stopped a few yards to the right where it met an outer building and carried on father to the left where it eventually met with the garden wall, which was a hedgerow and no wall at all.
Leah was up and looking toward the gate as riders can streaming in, many moving off to the side toward the stables to make room for the men behind.
Luveday was tired and was in the process of helping Leah out of the cart when the riders filled the courtyard. At the front were three men she had no trouble recognizing. Iain De Lane stopped his mount on the other side of their cart. John had to steady the old mare who was agitated by the arrival of so many warhorses.
Benedict St. James was to his left, and Sir Gregori to his right, and all three men looked down on her with mixed expressions. Beatrix ran out of the hall to help Clair get Leah inside. They had decided to ready a room for her in the house if her health was a poor as was told, and Luveday was suddenly grateful for the forethought. John moved the cart out of the way, saying something about taking it the back way to return it to the warehouse.
Luveday found herself with nothing to do, and no one around, and so turned back to their guests wondering what in the world was going on. The men had yet to dismount and still sat watching her. Luveday breathed through her nose, lowered her shoulders and looked at them head held high. “Good day! Lord De Lane, Lord St. James, Sir Gregori,” She nodded as she acknowledged each in turn. They each nodded back, though St. James beamed at her, while Sir Gregori tried to keep the smile at the corner of his lips from spreading, his eyes twinkled at her. Iain frowned, but moved to dismount, making his companions follow suit. Luveday had a brief thought to look for Coll, but the men had her full attention.
Just as the trio came to stand before her, Lord Titus Pillar came through the front door to stand beside her and greeted them as well with little more than a ‘Good Day.’ There was a distinct separation between the two groups. Artair took that moment to find them and grasped first Luveday’s hand, and then his father’s making it three against three. Iain’s frown deepened as the smiles evident on the other men’s faces disappeared. Artair looked at the adults, greeted St. James as was appropriate, nodded to the other men as men often did and ran off, but not before Luveday suggested he find Gemma and Beatrix. No one had yet told the boy of Leah’s return, and Luveday was loath to do it in front of these men. She briefly wondered how the two women would fare through it and mentally cringed at having rather heavy-handedly given the task to them.
“Please come in.” Luveday gestured inside, but no one seemed to move. Turning back, she gently chided, “your missive didn’t state who was coming, only that the group was large.” St. James looked sheepish as her eyes fell on him, Iain’s expression didn’t change though Gregori smirked a bit making Luveday wonder at him.
“Do come in, the Lady has only just returned herself.” Titus moved towards the door taking Luveday’s elbow, while a grunt was heard from behind them.
No one looked back to see the cause of the sound, though Luveday wouldn’t be surprised if someone got an elbow to the ribs, that someone being De Lane. The real question was, which one of his blood brothers had dealt it.
Inside the cooler hall, they stiffly sat as Luveday drank fresh spring water and the men gratefully downed mugs of chilled ale. Titus watched from his bench with St. James beside him. Iain and Gregori took up the other bench, their weight making the furniture creek. Luveday finished her cup, but no one had taken the opportunity to speak, so she waded in. “I hope the journey was uneventful.” She offered.
All eye swung to her and Luveday swore she heard necks snap and tempers crackle as the group turned the tension on her. No one answered. Sighing internally, and not really knowing what to do or how she felt about the situation, she tried again. “You left men at Castle Sterling?”
Finally, St. James answered, thought Iain looked as if he might stab the man. Sir Gregori didn’t look much happier. “We escorted Lord Cain and Sir Gareth Tate and their men to Sterling where they will remain in residence until the King rules on the title.” He took a sip of his ale, eyeing the two men across from him.
Luveday finally figured out that both men were waiting for Iain to speak, in fact, almost refusing to talk until he did. She nearly laughed at the childish gesture. Titus didn’t seem amused, though perhaps he had yet to figure that out. She was sure that the men had positioned themselves so that she sat in the chair alone, either on one side or the other. It was clear that Benedict had taken the seat next to Titus to keep her from sitting there. Luveday had quickly stepped to the back of the hall to wash her hands and her face, removing the dirt from the summer roads. In the meantime, the men had seated themselves, and she had returned to find herself the odd man out.
A crying Beatrix arrived almost begging Titus to come to Leah. The old woman was asking for him. Titus looked put-upon, but with one look to Luveday he gave in. Benedict only gave her a look, but she answered the unspoken question. “Leah, the head woman, was found at Pyne-on-the-Abbey.” He briefly filled in the men, who seemed to know the gist of the tale, before she continued. “There was news of her on own return. Word came that she was in poor health, and I went to bring her home the day after returning from court.”
Iain finally spoke, “That is little rest.” The comment seemed cold, but Luveday wasn’t sure what she expected.
“Leah has been Artair’s mother since he was born, and I feared that if her health turned she might pass before we could retrieve her.”
Gregori tried to
help the conversation along after a pause. “You wished to speak to her?”
Luveday knew what he implied. “Not personally. I wished her to be home. I feel a bit as if I am responsible for driving her out.”
“That was not your fault.” Benedict countered earnestly. “There were actions outside of your control.” He looked to Iain who watched him closely. Sighing he settled back. “The woman fled her own sins, Luveday. It wasn’t your doing.”
Gregori stirred and settled as the conversation died again. Everyone except Iain looked uncomfortable, while the King’s champion looked as if he were made of stone.
“Oh, for the love of cheese,” Luveday exclaimed startling the trio. She leaned forward and looked daggers at Iain. “What are you doing here? What is all this about?” She gestured to Gregori and Iain, “Why are you here if you are going to sit there like a bump on a log?” She looked to Benedict who smirked at her. “Don’t give me that look!” He tried to squelch the smile, but it didn’t work. “You give me a letter that explains nothing at all and show up with these two,” she gestured wildly to the other bench, “and then sit here like you all can wage war with Pillar just by staring him down.” She pointedly looked to Iain. “Are you hear to talk to me, or glower at me?”
Gregori and Benedict burst into laughter while Iain scowled at them, but even Luveday could see the twitch at the corner of his mouth. He finally gave in, letting the laughter roll out of him. Luveday smiled too, forgetting how much she loved the sound.
Gregori looked at her, grinning wide. “I have missed you, Lady.” The man moved suddenly and smoothly and lifted her off her feet in a hug and sat her gently back down before anyone could stop him.
Iain’s gaze met hers, and she could swear that he wanted to do more than hug her, but she looked away, trying to not turn warm at his look. Her eyes fell on Benedict who seemed to know exactly what had passed between them.
Luveday composed herself as the other men settled. “You have a lot of talking to do,” was all she said as she looked from one man to the next, waiting for someone to begin.
Benedict began as if the others thought that hearing things from him would be easier, “As we rode away from the wedding ceremony, you remember meeting a man on the road.” Luveday nodded, vaguely remembering the harried rider and wondering what he had to do with anything but keeping silent. “The vows had been spoken, and the crowd moved into the chapel for the blessing before he reached them.” Benedict’s gaze flickered to Iain, though Luveday fought the urge to look at him, and waited as patiently as she could, trying not to guess what happened next. “During the blessings, there was a pause waiting for anyone who wanted to have their say; it usually remains an expectant silence.” Luveday remembered if from Gregori’s wedding, acquainting it to the “speak now or forever hold your peace” moment. “Iain stood during the pause,” Luveday’s eyes flew to him and back to Benedict. She remembered that the groom knelt beside his bride until the blessings were finished and the priest told them to rise. “Before he could speak, the door flew open.” Gregori huffed, at his friend’s dramatic gesture as Benedict’s arms went wide. “And the rider came running in, asking if he were too late.”
“All hell broke loose,” Gregori chimed in, “Excuse the language, My Lady.”
Benedict glared but waited a moment to see if Iain wished to take up the tale. “Exhausted and wary, he stumbled to the front of the chapel to take a crying Christabel in his arms.”
“You forgot the passionate kiss,” Gregori added with a helpful tone.
“Am I telling this, or are you?” he asked, but Gregori just shrugged smirking. Iain didn’t move, just watched Luveday intently. “Sumerland and his men yelled and threatened to pull swords, but Father Quinn’s voice rang out over the chaos, quieting the crowd.” Luveday could imagine it. “Sumerland cleared the chapel though many protested, Iain, the stranger, Christabel, Mistress Adela, Emmalyn, Gregori and Emma, Sumerland, two knights and Father Quinn were all that remained.” Benedict took a sip of his ale to wet his pallet for the rest of the tale. “Father Quinn let the stranger go first, but eyed Iain.” There was a look between the two men, “Well he did, didn’t he?” Gregori nodded, laughing while Iain finally admitted it with a nod of his own. “The stranger tells his tale. He is Sir Everard of Bryce Castle thought dead for several years and secretly married to Lady Christabel.” Benedict laid out the punch line, and Luveday sat back in her chair but didn’t look at anyone for a moment. Her gaze returned to Benedict, and she told him to continue. “Everard had only just returned to Anora after finding some fortune overseas to hear that his wife was betrothed to another. He rushed off to get the papers from the church to legitimize his claims and barely make it to Lander’s Keep in time.” Benedict almost laughed. “I can only imagine how furious Sumerland must have been.” Luveday smiled knowing there was no love lost between any of these men and Christabel’s father. “Father Quinn confirmed the seal on the letter was real, and even Mistress Adela spoke up to prove that the marriage was… true.” He turned a bit pink as Luveday realized he was talking about consummation. “Sumerland swore and stomped about but left quickly taking his men with him and publicly disowning his daughter.”
A brief frown closed the Lady’s face, but Gregori reassured her. “She seemed more than happy to have him out of her life. If I recall she was too busy kissing Sir Everard to notice much else.” He laughed.
“You mean Lord Everard.” Iain cut in.
Benedict smiled. “Right, his cousin, the Lord of Bryce Castle, sided with Ladislaus and was killed on the battlefield. Everard is no longer the poor cousin, but Lord Everard Pryce of Bryce Castle.”
“You just like saying that,” Gregori grunted.
“I do indeed,” Benedict admitted. “I remember him being a good fellow, and liking him better than his cousin, though I admit I am biased against anyone who called Ladislaus a friend.” He was not ashamed but this admission, especially when the other men nodded in agreement.
“So, Christabel and her husband are at Bryce Castle?” Luveday asked, but before she could get an answer, a cry went up from somewhere in the castle causing the group to surge to their feet. A moment later as they took a step toward the noise, a small body hit Luveday. Artair went limp as she tried to pull him into her arms, Titus was not far behind him. With the boy clinging around her neck, and his father blinking back the tears in his eyes, it wasn’t hard for Luveday to guess that Leah had passed.
“She…” but the words didn’t come, nor did they need to. Titus nodded and turned to leave going back the way he had come.
Luveday comforted and rocked and cried with Artair for what felt like hours until the boy fell into an exhausted sleep and she laid him down in her room. It was only as she quietly stepped into the hall that her brain started to work again. Had someone shown the men to their rooms? Was dinner prepared? Was it time to eat? She looked to find the sun still up but low in the sky. The days were long, and she guessed that dinner should have been severed a while ago. She made her way down the back stairs to the kitchen. Red eyes were seen on every face she met, and so she didn’t bother about her own. She had someone prepare a plate for the two of them but said she would walk in the garden before coming back to pick it up.
It was there, walking among the flowers that Iain found her. She was staring at a rose, not really seeing it when his deep voice slide around her. “You love these people.” It was a statement yet held a touch of sorrow.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” She asked out of nowhere.
Iain turned her to look at him. He saw her red eyes, her flushed cheeks, and red nose. He also saw that her hair was more golden than he remembered. Her eyes, though red and watery, were sharp and exactly as he recalled. She was thinner, and the gown she wore was unfamiliar to him. He had thought he remembered everything about her and yet she was so much more. He couldn’t help taking her in his arms and comforting her. “Of course, you would, Luve. You have worked beside them; you fough
t with them, you grieve with them.” She looked up at him, having settled into his embrace. “Your heart is too large not to have room for all of them and more.” She took a step back, and they both felt the loss. “The question is,” he paused to take a deep breath as if he needed the strength, “Do you still have room in your heart for me?”
Luveday didn’t answer, but took a step back and turned away. Iain felt it like a blow to his chest. It gutted him, but he was frozen to the spot waiting for a word from her. Luveday walked to where the paths crossed and turned to face him, then moved back quickly encircling him in her arms, letting him breathe again. “Why did you stand?” She didn’t have to elaborate; he knew what she was asking him.
Iain’s voice was thick with emotion. “I was listening to the blessings of prosperity, peace, longevity and I couldn’t imagine Christabel at my side. At Father Quinn’s words wrapped around us, I turned to look at her, but I saw you instead, smiling back at me. My eyes opened, literally, I looked at her and knew that it was impossible, and I thought it was too late, but Father Quinn paused, and I realized it was my chance to change everything. Sumerland be damned.” She laughed tears gathering. “If Everard hadn’t interrupted I would have called it all off, but I looked for you, and you weren’t there. In the chaos of the moment, I thought I had missed you, and you were ushered out with the crowd. By the time everything was settle hours had past and only when I had searched high and low for you, only when desperation was turning me into a madman did my aunt confess.” Iain hugged her tightly. “It was only then that I realized you had never answered me. You had never given me your word, and I understood why.” He kissed her cheek to find it wet, she was crying silently. He kissed the other to clear it and rested his head atop hers. “You meant to leave me, all along, you meant to leave me.” His voice broke at the remembered pain. “I know now that it was the only thing you could have done, but at the time I thought I might tear down the very walls with my rage.”
