A Light Within

by Darlene Mindrup

  Garek noticed the changes in the girl, studying her thoughtfully. Her bones no longer protruded from her clothes and a healthy pink tinged her cheeks. The bruises faded, and once again Brianna’s skin turned milk white. He knew she could never be considered comely, but there was something about her that arrested one’s attention—a peaceful serenity that nothing seemed to mar.

  Garek’s knights were taken with Mary’s loveliness, often fighting over who would be the one to win her favor, but it was Brianna who won their chivalry.

  It amused Garek to watch his knights fall all over themselves trying to keep the young maid from lifting heavy platters or lugging huge water buckets. None of them could forget the maid’s condition when she had first arrived.

  Often Brianna was found sitting with one of his knights, their faces close together as she earnestly exhorted the man on some point. Since Garek could not hear these conversations, he didn’t know what was transpiring among his men. It began to irritate him, for she made a point of staying as far from the lord of the manor as possible.

  The seasons had changed as well. The dampness from the surrounding swamps had been replaced by bone-biting cold and heavy snows.

  Brianna and Mary often sat huddled together in the warm kitchen. Sometimes they would go to the adjacent chamber to spin flax, chatting amiably.

  This day they were laughing over some shared joke when suddenly the door was flung open and Garek strode in, carrying a large coffer. He thumped it down in front of the girls, motioning with his hands and speaking to Brianna.

  “It was brought with the idea of using them as trade goods. It is yours—both of you. I owe you.”

  Mary and Brianna stared at him with gaping mouths as he turned and left the room.

  Squealing, Mary hurriedly opened the trunk, raring back in surprise at the rich array of gowns nestled therein.

  “Oh, Brianna,” she breathed.

  Brianna slowly lifted out a gown of rich red velvet. Never in her life had she seen anything so lovely. She lifted it to her lap and began stroking the soft fox-fur trim.

  Mary looked at the closed door. “What manner of man is he?”

  Brianna spoke without thought. “A lonely man, I think.”

  Hurriedly shoving the gowns back into the trunk, Mary gave a disgusted snort.

  “He cannot purchase my favor with such as these.”

  “Nay, Mary,” Brianna answered. “It was only a kindness, I am sure.”

  Mary was far from satisfied. “Perhaps, but I think the gowns are not worth what may be the price.”

  Brianna stared down at her own torn and mended gown of rough wool. The softer kirtle she wore beneath was so thin from wear that it did little to alleviate the itch from the outer garment.

  With the onset of winter, she was always cold, her worn gown being the only one she owned. The velvet would be warm. But if Mary could not see her way to accept any of the garments, then Brianna felt she must reject them too.

  Sadly, Brianna began to lay the dress back into the coffer, folding it ever so gently.

  “What are you about, Brianna?”

  “If you think it not wise to accept the garments, then neither can I.”

  Mary stared back at her friend. Her eyes quickly went over the girl’s threadbare clothing.

  “But, Brianna. It would be all right for you to make use of the dresses.”

  “How so?”

  Biting her lip, Mary was at a loss to explain how she knew that the lord of the manor would expect nothing of Brianna in return for such a favor. He treated Brianna with a gentle courtesy that his knights were quick to follow.

  Of course, that was Brianna. Something about Brianna had always encouraged others to see her as a child needing protection.

  Mary’s eyes grew dark. Except for that blackguard of a brother of hers. She wondered what the new lord would think if he knew the whole truth of Brianna’s situation.

  Returning her eyes to the coffer, she sighed. Truly the gowns were lovely, and although she was but a servant along with Brianna, it would be pleasant to be so robed. She couldn’t deny Brianna this kindness.

  Lifting out a gold gown of rich brocade, Mary smiled saucily. “This would surely make the eyes of Sir Bolson pop from his head, would it not?”

  Confused, Brianna nodded.

  “Take no thought to my rambling lips, Brianna. It is just that I look for false motives in everything these days. Let us enjoy these lovely gowns as the lord has bid us.”

  “Surely?” Brianna still hesitated.

  “Yea.”

  The two girls hurriedly went through the coffer, dividing the garments between them. When Brianna lay in her own chamber that night, her thoughts were with Garek, who had shown her such a kindness.

  ❧

  In the days that followed, Garek took Brianna with him on his surveys of the countryside. His fief was a large one, and much work would be required to make it profitable.

  His decision to take the girl with him proved wise, for she truly did know all the people in the shire. Everyone met her with a glad smile, though their greetings to him were less enthusiastic.

  Still, it was not long before the people became accustomed to his presence, and their fear of him grew less and less. This was in no small part due to Brianna’s own lack of concern. Her eager acceptance of Garek as lord did much to soothe their misgivings.

  Garek himself proved a capable and honest lord. Although the people were required to work three days a week at the castle, the other three days were theirs to maintain their own farms. The seventh day, of course, was a day of rest.

  Garek also decided to replace the log palisade with a stone curtain wall, which would require many hours of labor, but in the end it would prove much more secure. The villeins were willing to provide the necessary labor, for well they knew the results of having no protection from invaders.

  Garek made Serin his sheriff because the man was well educated and very familiar with figures. Although Serin was a knight, his heart was not in it. He had a mind for learning and chose to use it. This was a blessing for Garek, for there was no one he would consider more trustworthy.

  It took weeks for Serin to log each man, woman, child, goat, cow, and other livestock into his books. Again Brianna proved an invaluable ally.

  Before long, Garek had the castle fully manned with servants, and serfs began tilling the land in preparation for the spring planting. Others honed scythes and plows and mended harnesses. Everywhere, signs of activity proclaimed the people’s willingness to put war behind them.

  Word had come to Garek that William had returned to England to defeat an insurrection by a small band of deposed English lords who had aligned themselves with several rebellious lords from Flanders.

  Atheling Edward had escaped William’s custody and had joined forces with Scottish kings in the north. William himself would lead the forces from Normandy, seeking to stop them.

  When Garek offered to join the battle, William bade him remain where he was to protect the area from raiders sweeping across the country.

  Garek chafed at his inactivity, knowing full well the rebelliousness of the English. Bolson smiled in sympathy.

  “We all wish we could be on our way, Garek. But the king’s reasoning is sound. It will take many men to bring this country back to prosperity, and dead men can do naught.”

  “Aye, but still it goads me.”

  Brianna entered the room carrying a trencher of roast deer. The inviting smell brought others to the table as she set about making ready a meal for the men.

  Garek again noticed how well the maid now filled out her clothes. The gowns he had given her had been put to good use, though Brianna had a tendency to choose the less elaborate dresses. Still, Garek couldn’t fault her taste. The gowns gave her the appearance of being a genteel lady, rather than the servant she was.

  Mary, entering behind her, was entirely different, he knew. She chose the brightest, most daring ensembles, and her flirtatious ma
nner brought many a hearty whack upon her backside.

  The contrast between the two was amazing. Garek shook his head. As he had often said, there was no understanding women.

  Brianna set a cup of ale before Garek, her eyes lowered demurely. Stepping back, she kept her head bowed.

  “Is there anything else, my lord?”

  What was there about this girl that soothed his very soul? He could be in the foulest mood and she had only to enter the room to send his anger fleeing. Her presence was a calming balm.

  Taking her by the wrist, he gently pushed her onto the bench next to his chair.

  “Aye. Sit and eat.”

  Her eyelids opened wide at this, and she started to rise; his raised eyebrows made her sit again.

  “It is not proper, milord. A servant’s place is not at the table with the lord.”

  Irritated at having caused all eyes to turn his way, Garek lifted his ale and took a hearty swig. “A servant’s place is where the lord so deems. Now eat.”

  Exchanging glances with Mary, Brianna shrugged her shoulders. Mary’s eyes were alight with laughter, and something Brianna could not name. She brought Brianna a boat of bread from which to eat her meal, grinning as she laid it before her.

  Garek returned to his meal and never again turned Brianna’s way. Thoroughly confused, she picked at the meat and bread. She couldn’t relax, knowing that Mary and the other servants were doing the work she should be doing.

  When the meal was finished, Brianna excused herself to help Mary in the kitchen. Garek allowed her to leave without so much as glancing her way.

  From that day forward, Garek expected Brianna to sit at his side during the evening meal. Brianna didn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do. She grew aggravated at Mary’s knowing glances.

  “He fancies you,” Mary told her.

  “Have you lost all reason?”

  “Nay,” Mary told her confidently. “I have seen the way he watches you. Does he not bid you stay close by his side when he is here at the castle? And does he not take you with him when he does his rounds of the shire?”

  Brianna knew Mary was right about Garek wanting her by his side, but she also knew there was another reason besides fancy that caused Garek to seek her out. She felt it in the dark, brooding look of his eyes.

  Brianna soon found out the reason for his interest. It was several days later, long past midnight, when Brianna made her way up the cold stone steps to her chamber above.

  Alfred had asked her help tending a child ill with fever. The time had dragged by until, finally, just before midnight, the fever broke. The walk from the village had been long and cold. In the darkness, Brianna had shivered at the rustlings along the wayside. She had known it was probably the wind, but she’d shuddered with apprehension nonetheless.

  Brianna wearily made her way to the door of her chamber, adjacent to Garek’s. She was brought up short by a shout from the lord’s chamber. Eyes wide with fright, she stared at the closed door separating her from the man within.

  A moment later the door swung open and Garek stood on its threshold, wearing a hastily donned tunic over his chausses.

  When he saw Brianna, his face relaxed. “I would have a word with you.”

  Brianna looked beyond him inside the room. Nothing moved. Her eyes searched Garek’s.

  “A nightmare, milord?”

  “Aye.”

  Still, she hesitated to enter his room as he moved aside and motioned her in. Recognizing her reluctance, Garek took her impatiently by the arm and, turning her around, marched her down the stairs to the great hall below.

  “Sit,” he commanded, and Brianna took a seat on the stool beside the now cold hearth. Garek lit one torch on the wall and Brianna could see his face twisted with some nameless worry.

  Brianna tried to stem the trembling of her hands by twisting them in her lap. She could see sweat beading on Garek’s forehead, even though the room was barely above freezing. He truly seemed frightened, which surprised her. A man such as he—strong and courageous. What had he to fear?

  “I want to share my dream with you,” he finally told her, seating himself across from her. “Perhaps you can explain it to me.”

  Brianna was surprised. “I am no prophet.”

  “I know not of prophets,” he told her, “only dreams.”

  He related his nightmare to her. It was similar to the others he’d had. The only difference in them was that instead of striking down Edward and Edward then transforming into Brianna, Brianna was now alone. As the shadows had reached for him, he had reached for the light. He could never quite reach it, but it drew ever closer and he knew the light came from Brianna.

  When he finished, Brianna stared at him, unsure what to say.

  “It would seem to me that your guilt drives your dreams,” she finally told him.

  “Of what guilt do you speak?”

  “From what you have told me, guilt over the taking of other lives.”

  Garek snorted. “I killed my first man when I was but a score years old. Since that time I have taken many lives, though only in defense of my king. My dreams started only three years ago.” He studied her. “But what have you to do with the light? I never saw the light in my dreams until I met you.”

  Brianna turned her face from him. “Perhaps it is the Lord Jesus Christ that is the true light. Perhaps you see Him in me, and He is calling for you.”

  Garek’s eyes narrowed. “What say you?”

  “The Lord lives in me. He has promised this from the beginning. Any light that is in me surely comes from Him, for I have no light of my own.”

  “You speak of prophets and promises. What can you know of such things? Only the priests have the knowledge of God.”

  Brianna smiled, though her eyes were serious. “When I first came to this shire, it was as a child. My mother died giving me birth, and my father decided to come back to this shire of his childhood. He had gone to Normandy when he was younger and wished to come home. I was but six when he decided this.”

  “And Edward?” Garek asked softly.

  “Edward was a child of my father’s first marriage. My father was two score and ten when he married my mother. She was but eighteen.”

  Brianna hesitated to go on. The story was painful to her even after all of these years. Garek sat waiting for her to continue. Taking a deep breath, she went on.

  “When we arrived here, my father sent me to the convent.” She nodded her head toward the window. “He. . .he could not bear the sight of me. It was years before I learned the reason why.”

  Garek was intrigued. “And that was. . . ?”

  Brianna’s voice was so soft, Garek had to strain to hear.

  “I was not my father’s daughter.”

  Shocked, Garek leaned back in his seat. It was the way of women, was it not? An unfaithful lot, never abiding by their vows. He knew this from experience. He waited for her to continue, not daring to interrupt.

  “My father was a man for hire. His arms went to those who would pay the highest price. He was often away, and he and my mother had not married for love.”

  “That is no excuse. A vow is a vow,” Garek told her coldly.

  Surprised at his anger, Brianna plumbed the depths of his cold gray gaze.

  “True. I am not trying to excuse her, only to state a truth.”

  Brianna got up and strolled to the window. The darkness was absolute, the new moon giving no light.

  “The nuns in the convent raised me until. . .until Edward’s family was killed and he had need of someone to help at the farm. I was a score years old plus one when I left the sanctuary of the convent. It was the nuns who taught me of Jesus.”

  Everything fell into place for Garek. Brianna’s innocence and her gentle ways, her ability to read and write.

  “I have asked for absolution,” he told her angrily. “I paid a high price to the priests, but it does not take the dreams away.”

  Brianna turned her face to him. “You
cannot be granted absolution from men. It must come from God.”

  Puzzled, he got up and crossed the room to stand beside her. “Then what can I do? How can I receive absolution from God?”

  “You must ask,” she told him. “And renounce your sins.”

  “Of what sins do you speak? I am a soldier under the authority of the king. It is not so simple. . .”

  “I speak not of your occupation, but of your heart. King David was a man who slew tens of thousands of men, and yet the holy Scriptures teach that he was a man after God’s own heart.”

  “Truly? The holy Word says this?”

  “Yea. It was not that David had a blood lust, but only that he defended his people. There is no guilt in such a thing.”

  Garek watched the shadows dance across Brianna’s face in the light of the flickering torch. He yearned for something he could not put a name to.

  Reaching out, he lifted a lock of her curly brown hair, stroking it between his fingers. She watched him, her eyes wide.

  “There is more, Garek, is there not? Something you have kept from me?”

  Surprised at her use of his given name, he stilled. He abruptly dropped her hair from his fingers. “Why do you ask such a thing?”

  She said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He returned to his seat, throwing himself upon the stool that creaked alarmingly under his weight. Brianna followed him, seating herself again on her stool. Minutes went by and still he said nothing.

  Brianna was growing weary, realizing that several hours had passed since she had entered the keep. As tired as she was, she remained stoically seated upon the stool, waiting for him to speak.

  When he turned to her, there was anguish in his eyes.

  “I killed my wife.”

  five

  The silence in the room grew uncomfortably long. Slowly Garek lifted his head, brushing his face with his hands. The torch had begun to fail and the room had grown darker, casting his face in shadows.

  Brianna waited for him to continue, knowing he wasn’t finished with what he had to say. She struggled to think of this gentle, caring man she had come to know quite well, as a monster who could slay his wife.