“I see.” She made up her mind. She wouldn’t mention this to anyone until she talked with Solomon. “Thank you, then. Should I wake up hungry again, I’ll remember where to find food.”
“You should have called one of the servants or sent your girl down,” the cook told her sternly. “This isn’t the place for you.”
“Yes, I know.” Catherine sighed. This isn’t a place for anyone, she thought. If only Edgar would come back and take us home!
She went slowly back up the steps to the Great Hall, nibbling at the hunk of cheese the cook had given her. She couldn’t understand it. There was such beauty here—wildflowers in the nearly perpetual sunshine, fields of oats and barley ripening, a river full of fish—and yet everywhere she went, Catherine felt only sorrow and secrecy.
“This is what enchantment must feel like,” she told James. “I hope this is really cheese and not an illusion.”
She took another bite. It tasted like cheese. She reached the top of the steps, where the sight of Solomon sitting on the edge of his bed and scratching beneath his tunic brought her back to the real world.
“Good morning, Cousin.” She came over and sat next to him. “Do you want some cheese?”
“Not before I’ve had some beer,” he said. “Here, give me the baby. You’re dropping bits on his head.”
He settled James on his lap and bounced him gently. Catherine brushed the crumbled cheese off her tunic.
“Solomon,” she said. “There’s a prisoner shackled in the storeroom. I think he’s insane.”
“I’m not surprised,” Solomon answered. “If we stay here much longer, I think it highly likely that I shall go insane, myself. Is there room for two down there?”
“Solomon, I’m serious!”
“A prisoner.” Solomon stopped bouncing James, who then took an interest in the drawstrings dangling from the neck of his shift. “Does this madman have a name?”
“He couldn’t tell me,” Catherine said. “You wouldn’t laugh if you had seen him.”
“I’m not laughing,” Solomon assured her. “He’s probably some hostage waiting for his ransom to be paid.”
“If so, it’s been delayed a long time. I don’t believe the poor thing has seen sunlight in years.”
“Catherine.” There was a warning in Solomon’s tone. “It’s not our affair. Waldeve has the right to judge and punish his people as he sees fit. You may grieve for him now, but the man could be a vicious criminal.”
“Then he would have been hanged, or mutilated and released,” Catherine insisted. “And why would Margaret not know about him? She thinks there’s a ghost in the celler.”
“Would you tell a child there was someone chained to a wall in your home?”
Catherine clenched her jaw. Her cousin had an answer to everything. He could be very iritating.
She was trying to think of a rebuttal when the servants came in to take away the bedding and set up the hall for the day.
“Adalisa will be down soon.” Solomon looked nervously at the staircase. “There’s nothing for me to do here today. I think I might ask if I could take Margaret and ride over to Robert’s estate. Perhaps he’s had word from his monks.”
Catherine looked at him sharply.
“There’s a man in chains starving here and you can only think about business?”
He returned her look. There was a hardness in his glance that made her shrink away.
“Catherine,” he said, “there are people in chains and starving everywhere. Some of them deservedly. You can’t free them because they’re pitiable now. If it grieves you so, then ask our hostess why he’s down there. The answer may alter your view of him.”
“I will,” Catherine said. “But I doubt that it will affect my feelings. I can’t bear to think of anyone in chains.”
Solomon shook his head. Sometimes he considered it a minor miracle that Catherine had survived outside the idealized world of the convent. She was soft enough to pity Satan himself.
Catherine continued back up to her chamber, where Willa was now awake and collecting James’s dirty swaddling to take out to the courtyard to boil.
“Willa, has the Lady Adalisa been up to see me yet this morning?” she asked.
Willa shook her head. She was beginning to tan in the sun but this morning her skin had the pallor of fear. “I’ve seen no one today, but a little while ago, I heard a dreadful wailing, like a soul rising from the grave.” She paused, her chin trembling. “I don’t think I like it here.”
Catherine came to her and put her arms around her, James hugged between them.
“It’s all right, Willa, the noise was just me, shrieking at a rat in the kitchen,” she told the girl. “I’m sorry it frightened you. I don’t like it here much, myself. As soon as Edgar returns, we’re going home. Until then, I won’t let any harm come to you. Trust me?”
Willa nodded and tried to smile.
“Now, we have work to do.” Catherine looked dolefully at the bucket. “First I’m going to find Lady Adalisa and ask if we can give all this to her washwoman.”
She left Willa playing with the baby and returned to the hall. Solomon was gone and Adalisa sitting at the table giving orders to the servants for the day. Catherine waited until she had finished.
“Your cousin has gone to Robert’s,” Adalisa began. “He took Margaret to speak for him. I sent a guard with them. It will be all right, don’t you think?”
“Solomon will take good care of her,” Catherine answered. “Adalisa, did you hear a screaming this morning?”
“Yes,” she said. “The cook told me it was you. What was wrong?”
“I went into the storeroom, looking for something to eat,” Catherine said. “No one told me there was a prisoner down there.”
“A what?” Adalisa seemed astonished.
Catherine told her of the man she had encountered.
“That’s nonsense, Catherine,” Adalisa was firm. “You must have been dreaming. There’s no one being held captive here. I would certainly know, especially if he were in the storeroom. I’m often there, checking on the state of supplies.”
“I was not dreaming!” Catherine was indignant. “I know quite well what I saw. Come with me and I’ll prove it.”
But even as she spoke, Catherine knew there would be no sign of the prisoner now. She followed Adalisa down to the kitchen and looked as she was shown the room, empty of all but the most innocent barrels and bundles. She should have made Solomon go with her immediately after seeing the man. There was nothing to do but apologize and admit that she must have been mistaken. Margaret had spread the tale of the monster in the mist so that it was easy to add this to her growing list of eccentricities. Catherine could imagine the laughter in the village when the story was told. She just wondered if they would be ridiculing her insanity or her credulity for being so easily tricked.
Wedderlie was becoming increasingly unsettling. Catherine began to think about taking Willa and James and returning to the protection of the monks in Berwick until Edgar returned.
Margaret was extremely proud of her sudden transition from “that child” to a person of importance. It had never occurred to her that the ability to understand both French and English would be of use to anyone. But first Catherine and now Solomon seemed to find her indispensible. It was such a new sensation that she didn’t know what to make of it.
“What if Robert uses words I don’t know?” she asked nervously as they arrived.
Solomon held up his arms to help her down.
“He won’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Margaret wasn’t, but Solomon was an adult and knew how things were done so she could only trust him and hope that she wouldn’t fail when the time came.
She was further disconcerted when Solomon put her hand on his arm and led her to the house, just as though she were a grown lady in jewels and a veil.
Robert’s dwelling was only a few steps in quality above th
at of his tenants. There was a fence around a yard, where chickens scratched, but no guard. The building itself had two levels, storage on the first and living quarters on the second. As they let themselves in the gate his dog, Lufen, started barking.
Solomon felt the girl’s hand tighten on his arm, but she lifted her chin higher and ignored the dog as it ran toward them. It was the first time he realized that she had something of her father in her, after all. No child of Waldeve would ever dare show fear.
Robert came out when he heard the dog and called it off at once. Margaret’s hand relaxed.
“Tell him we’ve come for a friendly visit,” Solomon asked her. “I was bored and wondered if there was any news from the monks about the trade for wool and spices.”
When she had translated Robert shook his head.
“But tell Solomon that I expect word soon,” he said. “Since you’re here, do you want some ale and bread? I was going out to check the rabbit snares. You can come with me or wait here.”
Margaret opted to wait. “I don’t mind rabbit stew,” she explained. “But I hate to see them wiggling in the noose.”
Robert shook his head at such fastidiousness.
“Lufen!” he called and the dog came running. The two of them started across the garden toward the wood.
Halfway across Robert stopped and bent over. Just as he did the dog pounced on something in front of him, gave a jerk and fell to the ground howling. Robert cried out as if he, and not the dog, had been hurt.
“Stay here,” Solomon told Margaret.
He ran to where Robert was kneeling, trying to extricate the dog’s leg from the teeth of an iron trap.
“Lufen! Lufen!” he cried as the dog snapped at his attempts to free her. “Thu ert mine heahgesceaft! Hilpst me, Solomon!”
Solomon pulled off his tunic and handed it to Robert.
“Cover her head with it,” he shouted. “Hold her!”
Robert understood his gestures and managed to restrain the dog. Solomon unsheathed the knife he always kept strapped to his arm and inserted the point between the teeth of the trap.
Having ignored his order, Margaret appeared beside him.
“What can I do?” she asked Solomon.
“Tell Robert to keep the damn dog still or she’ll lose the leg before I can release her,” Solomon panted.
“I’m trying to!” Robert said when she’d explained. “My poor Lufen is in agony. She saved me! My beautiful, noble Lufen sacrificed herself for me!”
Finally, the trap eased open enough for the dog to pull her leg out. Robert gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the house. All the way he murmured reassurance to the wounded animal. But Solomon had seen the shattered bone. He knew there was no way Lufen could be saved.
Robert shouted for the guard they had brought with them.
“Ride as fast as you can back to the keep,” he ordered. “Tell my stepmother I need her to come at once. Have her bring some dwale for the dog. Hurry!”
The man left at once.
Robert set Lufen in her box near the hearth and went to look for a blanket. Margaret knelt next to the box. Lufen was now shivering and her eyes were glazed with pain. Solomon had followed them.
“Margaret,” he said softly. “Robert isn’t going to try to save the poor thing, is he?”
“He loves Lufen more than anything on earth,” Margaret answered. “He doesn’t care if she only has three legs.”
“But she won’t survive the amputation,” Solomon insisted. “He’ll just put her through more suffering for no reason.”
“If the dwale doesn’t kill her, she might survive,” Margaret explained. “Don’t you use it in France? It’s a strong medicine that puts people to sleep so they don’t feel even horrible pain. But sometimes they sleep so deeply that they don’t wake up. Mother explained it to me a long time ago and warned me never to mistake her jar of it for wine.”
Robert returned with the blanket and knelt next to his dog, gently rubbing her behind the ears and murmuring words of comfort.
“You can’t die, Lufen,” he wept. “Aelred is lost to me. If I lose you, too, then why bother living? Be strong, noble heart. Help is coming.”
“Robert?” Solomon had to raise his voice before Edgar’s brother remembered him.
“What is it?” he asked through tears.
“How did this happen?”
Robert never stopped caressing the shivering animal as he spoke. The anger in his voice never reached his gentle hands.
“There was a piece of cloth on the ground,” he said. “In among the vegetables. I reached for it to see what it was, but Lufen leapt at it instead, and … . My poor, brave girl!”
“Why would there be a trap like that in your garden?” Solomon asked.
Robert spoke to Margaret for a long time. When he finally stopped, she turned to Solomon.
“Robert doesn’t use such traps,” she explained. “Only snares for the rabbits. This was put there by someone who knows that Robert has few servants and works his garden mostly by himself.”
“You mean it was intended for him.” Solomon’s forehead creased in consternation. “And, with the cloth fluttering above it, they would expect him to do exactly what he almost did, reach for it and catch his hand in it.”
Margaret nodded.
“And, while he likely wouldn’t have died, he probably would have lost his hand.” Solomon shook his head. “We should send word of this to your father. Whoever killed your brothers must be somewhere nearby.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Solomon wished them back.
“Of course,” he added quickly. “They may also be far away by now.”
The child’s lips tightened, but she said nothing.
Since Robert was doing all that could be done for the dog, there was nothing Solomon and Margaret could do but wait. They settled themselves on a log by the main gate to watch for a messenger from Adalisa.
“This dwale.” Solomon was intrigued. “I never heard of it. Is it often used on animals?”
“I never heard of anyone doing so,” Margaret told him. “But I haven’t been many places, so I don’t know.”
Solomon smiled. “Where have you been?”
She thought. “I was at King David’s court at Carlisle, once. And I’ve been to Berwick. That’s all.”
She seemed to feel it was inadequate experience.
“Where have you been?” she asked wistfully.
Solomon considered hedging, but she was only a child. What harm could there be? “I’ve been to the edge of Spain,” he told her. “And across into Africa, where the Berbers rule and the land is nearly treeless. I’ve been into Rus, where they still worship pagan gods and eat their meat uncooked. I’ve seen mountains so high that it’s always winter at their peaks and heard spirits in the fog on the ocean trying to lure our ship onto the rocks. I’ve been to Rome and almost to Constantinople.”
Margaret was staring at him openmouthed in wonder. He laughed.
“And I’ve never seen anything as pretty in all the world as you, little one,” he finished, pulling on her braid to show he was teasing.
Nevertheless, Margaret blushed. He smiled. She seemed less nervous now. How stupid he had been to frighten her like that. She was so composed that he often forgot she was only a little girl.
The sound of the hoofbeats approaching made her tense and grab his sleeve. The hardness of the knife in its sheath reassured her. She was even more relived when the rider appeared and she saw her mother sitting behind the guard, a leather bag hooked over her shoulder.
She slid from the horse and gathered Margaret in her arms.
“Ma douz.” Adalisa kissed her. “I’ve left Catherine alone at the keep. I want you to go back with Oswin, here, so that you can explain to her what’s happening. I’ve given her instructions so you should obey her as you would me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mother.” Margaret clung to her for a moment. “When will you return?”
“In the morning, I hope,” Adalisa told her. “I’ll have to sit with Lufen tonight.”
“I’ll go back with her,” Solomon offered.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stayed,” Adalisa told him. “Oswin needs to organize the men to guard the keep and I will want someone to help hold the dog. I fear Robert may not be able to watch what I’ll have to do.”
Solomon swallowed. He wasn’t sure he had the stomach for it, either.
“Do you know how?” he asked.
“Yes.”
She didn’t say where she had learned such a skill and he thought it best not to ask.
He hoisted Margaret into place behind Oswin, who patted her hands reassuringly as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I’ll not let any harm come to her,” he promised Adalisa.
When they had left, Adalisa took a deep breath and turned to Solomon.
“Is there a fire in the house?” she asked.
“The hearth is cold,” he told her.
“Build one for me, please,” she said. “I’ll need white-hot coals for the cautery.”
He followed her into the house, marveling all the while at her steadiness. Where had she learned to do an amputation? Even on an animal as small as a dog, sawing through the bone required strength and accuracy. It wasn’t something he felt competent to do.
Adalisa knelt and examined the dog while Solomon worked at striking tinder for the fire. She then sent Robert out for a jar of wine and a large bowl.
“Do you think you can save her?” Solomon asked.
“I don’t know,” Adalisa answered. “But if I can’t, at least she’ll die quietly and without more pain.”
She ran her hand along the dog’s side, stopping at the heart. She bit her lip in worry.
“At least Robert remembered to tie off the leg,” she said, “or Lufen would have bled to death by now. Has the fire caught?”
“Yes,” Solomon said, “but it will be some time before there are coals.”
Cursed in the Blood: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Page 15
