by Allie Borne
She was grateful that she would be sharing a sleeping mat with Millie, Hannah, and Elizabeth each night. Gavin, Sir David, and the two soldiers employed to guard and drive the wagons would take turns sleeping in the other wagon and standing guard.
Sitting atop the wagon bench with Thomas, Sara vacantly stared at the back end of Gavin's white stallion. It had been nearly four weeks since the birth of Elizabeth and much longer since she'd been on the back of a horse. What she wouldn't give to feel the wind on her face, the connection to the powerful animal, as she raced down the road.
Gavin and Sir David flanked the wagons in an attempt to keep an eye out for vagabonds and thieves. But, they also had the freedom to ride up and back a bit, to slow and speed their pace as they saw fit. The trip would be much less tedious for them.
By the second day of the journey, Hannah had left the wagon and been merrily walking alongside Sir David's trotting mare. They chatted amicably about this or that. Eying the young couple, caused a stirring in Sara's gut. They made her feel emotions that were unsettling. She felt...uncertain as to her disapproval of the match. She felt...isolated from her daughter. She felt...envious that Sir David and Hannah were relating in a way that she and Gavin could not.
Sara felt numb. Everyone around her chatted and laughed, ate and drank together. Hannah fairly floated about her daily routine, thrilled to have so much time with her budding romance. Sir David regaled the group with tales of battles won and lost, and Sara began to develop a grudging respect for the young man who reminded her so much of her own deceased father.
Perhaps, in time, David would turn into a worthy partner for her young Hannah. While she was in no hurry for Hannah to marry, she was happy that Hannah had found a suitable match. No young lady should have to marry a man old enough to be her father, though most did. If her daughter could escape that fate and still stay in the keep, under her and Gavin's protection, so much the better.
If only Gavin had seen fit to speak with her about this before he made such a grand decision on his own; maybe then they would not have had such a falling out. Maybe then, they would be speaking with one another civilly; they would be touching and laughing along with the rest of the traveling party. Instead, Gavin strolled about the perimeter, a trapped lion in a traveling show.
Twas not like Sara to feel so down and she didn't like it. She would have to do something about it. At their first rest stop, Sara took the opportunity to change baby Elizabeth and then hand her over to Millie.
Saying nothing to the group, she grabbed the dirty changing cloth and slid down the small hill to the stream that ran along the roadway. Rinsing the cloth in the stream, she thrilled at the icy feel to the water on her hands, the delicious sensation of being completely and utterly alone.
That must be part of my problem, she sighed, relieved to realize she could act to feel better. Sara had grown so accustomed to being alone, that this constant companionship of late was wearing on her nerves. She would have to learn to find time to slip off to herself more often.
A twig snapped behind her and she froze. A familiar, grating voice accosted her senses. “The Lady Sara, alone at last.”
Sara sprang up from her crouch and twisted to face her accoster. “What art thou doing here?” Sara demanded of Sir John Polk.
“I have come to stake my claim,” he glowered and flashed his tiny, yellow teeth.
“If I scream, ye'll be dead,” Lady Sara warned, voice shaking shamefully.
“If ye scream, ye'll be dead,” he chuckled, flashing his dagger.
“What do ye want?” Sara demanded. If he had planned on abducting her, he'd have done so by now.
“I want ye to ken, ye temptress of Satan, thy days are numbered. Won't be long now, I'll be placing yer current husband in the ground. Then, ye'll be mine to deal with as I please. I am the next and rightful Lord Sanders.”
Sara had lived long enough under a tyrant to know better than to contradict the man. He was clearly unstable and desperate. “If Lord Sanders finds ye here, he'll kill ye.”
“Meet me tonight, in the woods by yer camp,” Sir John demanded.
“Nay.” Sara shook her head.
“Meet me, or I promise ye I will be meeting up with yer daughter next. I won't be quite so chivalrous with her.” John Polk tilted his head towards the woods on the opposite side of the stream. At least ten men moved about in the sparse fall foliage, awaiting John Polk's command.
How had he amassed such a company? Her mind raced. According to Mortichai, Lord Polk had disowned Sir John. Where had he the funds or connections? Who was helping Sir John?
“T'would be unfortunate, were my brother to discover the truth about Lady Hannah's lineage,” Sir John shook his head in mock pity. Then, his head rose slowly and maliciously. “Nothing sadder than a lady, fallen from grace.”
Sara's body shook, imperceptibly. How had he discovered her darkest secret? How could he now threaten her precious Hannah?
“I only ask that ye meet with me briefly, and do one small favor. Meet and tell no one, or Lady Hannah will suffer the consequences,” stepping forward, Sir John grabbed the end of Sara's hair and cut a lock with his dagger.
Before she could do more than grab at her shorn locks, Sir John was gone. Shock descended around Sara. She heard nothing, thought nothing; time stood still.
“Tis dangerous and thoughtless to wander from the group, Lady Sara.”
Gavin's words felt like a slap to an open wound. Sara jumped, then drew her black cloak closer about her. She could not bring herself to respond to Gavin, but strode past him, to the wagons. Scooping Elizabeth from Millie's arms, she deposited the babe within the wagon bed before climbing in herself.
Gavin sighed. What could he do to restore the accord between them? He could not give in to her demands or allow her to act in ways that challenged his authority. Yet, with every passing day, Sara grew more distant towards him. Despite his earnest attempts at chivalry and manners, the lady was somewhere far from his reach. He felt very unsettled approaching court with his wife so disconnected. He hoped she was wise enough to act in the best interest of the family, and leave her personal feelings to herself. Surely, he could rely on her for that.
~
Sarah waited until midnight had long past before she slid from the wagon. Although the half moon glowed much too brightly for her liking, she was lucky in that James was on watch. He was skittish around her and could be easily manipulated. “All is well, My Lady?” he questioned, as she strode past the campfire.
“Aye, James, tis. I should nay have had so much cider with my dinner is all,” she chuckled, allowing her voice to sound heavy with sleep. Without another word, she slowly moved toward the tree line in an unhurried movement of a woman with nothing more important to do than empty her bladder.
The moment she reached the shadowed forest, Sara picked up her pace, moving toward what looked to be a small opening in the copse of trees. There John Polk stood, a dark smear upon the peaceful landscape.
He chuckled softly. “Ye have come-smart lass.”
“What is it that ye want?” Sara pressured, wishing to be done with this unholy arrangement.
“An answer to a question, is all. Ye married Gavin Williams, but is it a marriage, in truth? Ye have had a bairn and I'd wager the marriage has yet to be consummated.”
Sara took a step back from the clearing. “Ye ask a lady to speak of such things?” she hedged. “How dare ye!”
“I will take that as an answer,” he laughed moving towards Sara deliberately.
“I have shared a bed with my husband often,” Sara's voice trembled.
Feeling unsafe, she turned to flee, only to run into the broad chest of a stranger. The hulking mercenary grabbed Sara's arms, pinning them to her sides. She could hear the dry rustle of grass as Sir John closed the distance behind her.
Panicked, Sara kicked up towards the man's groin and was gifted with her release. Dashing to his side, Sara ran. Branches hit her outstretched ha
nds and face and clutched at her gown. “Gavin!” she screeched, filled with terror, “Gavin!”
Sara's voice penetrated Gavin's restless sleep, adding another layer to his nightmare. Now, the tear-streaked face of Hannah being dragged away became Sara's. Again, he heard his name called, jarring him from his slumber.
Before he could think, he was stumbling from the wagon, sword in hand. “She's in the woods!” James' panicked voice called over his shoulder as he ran towards his lady's desperate pleas for help.
Gavin's heart lurched into his throat as he raced to close the distance. If anything happened to Sara-Thank God! She'd cleared the tree line, sobbing and tripping as she went.
Gavin rushed to her side, gathering her close. He looked past her for the pursuing threat.
“What is it, My Lady?” James coaxed. “A wolf?”
Sara shook her head against Gavin's chest. “Twas John Polk. He means to d-destroy us.”
Gavin's chest froze. How easily John could have abducted Sara. Why had he not?
“How did ye escape his clutches, My Lady?”
Shaking, Sara stood apart from Gavin and hugged her arms across her chest. She continued walking toward the safety of the camp. “I-I kicked the m-man who grabbed me, th-then I r-ran.”
“Twas not Sir John that accosted thee?” James asked, confused.
“S-Sir John was th-there...and another. H-he has s-several m-men. M-maybe ten.”
“And how did ye come by that information?” Gavin demanded.
Sara sighed and sat at a log beside the fire's embers. “He c-came across me at the river's edge this afternoon. H-he made threats and th-then he c-cut my hair.”
“And what treachery on yer part led ye to keep this silent? Were ye meeting with him just now?”
The stress of the days events were putting Sara in a state of shock. Shaking, she could barely follow Gavin's words. “Answer me!” he demanded.
“H-he th-threatened H-Hannah, w-were I to tell,” she hedged.
“And Hannah is safe now? Surrounded by Polk's men and me knowing not a wit about it?”
“T-twasn't that sort of threat. He threatened to tell a s-secret.”
Gavin waved James away and scooted against Sara's side. “If there are secrets in this family,” he whispered, “I best be learning them now.”
Sara's entire body erupted in whole-body shakes. “I know n-not how he learned of m-my s-secret. I can only assume that L-Lord S-Sanders t-told Lord Polk. C-clearly S-Sir David doth not know. I would have it stay that way.”
“Explain yerself, woman,” Gavin growled, unsettled.
Sara took a deep breath. Peering back over her shoulder at the ever darkening woods, she sighed. “When I was five, my father died, fighting for the king. We came to live under the protection of Lord Sanders, in exchange for control of my father's unentailed lands. Lord Sanders was often away, fighting with the French. Once, he was away for nigh on a year.”
Gavin nodded, familiar with the duty of a vassal to his king. “When he returned,” Sara continued, “he was terribly angry. It seems, his lady wife was several months pregnant. B-but the b-bairn could not have been his. H-he had n-not been h-home to s-sire it.”
Gavin's chest ached. He did not wish to hear the end of this tale. “I-I know w-what ye are thinking, b-but do not!” Sara demanded of Gavin.
“L-lady S-Sanders was a good woman. While Lord Sanders was away, his brother had come to visit. He forced himself on the Lady Sanders. I saw it for myself.”
“Lord Sanders knew of his brother's treachery and said nothing to anyone. The servants all knew the truth. There were whispers that his brother met a bad end at a port tavern some months after...Some thought it God's vengeance, some that the Lord himself paid for his brother to meet a violent end. Either way, Lord Sanders never again acknowledged the Lady Sanders.
“It nigh killed her, to be degraded in such a way. She barely ate. She spent hours in her garden, returning to the keep only when summoned or coaxed by Millie.”
“When her labor pains began, Lord Sanders allowed no one to assist her. She was alone in that solar, G-Gavin!”
“I remember th-the day H-Hannah was born. T'was the same day a p-page accosted m-me in the horse b-barn and Lord Sanders told me I was a ruined woman. The lecher had n-not g-gotten close enough t-to ruin me, but Lord Sanders deemed me ruined, so I was.”
Sara stood and looked down at Gavin accusingly. “Ye judge me and my actions all ye want, Gavin Williams b-but do nay ever presume ye know the cross one must bear being a woman. Ye think us the weaker sex. Yea, no man can conceive the strength required to suffer degradation, pain, and humiliation, all while being called upon to smile, serve, and wax romantic over those very men who see to our own oppression.
“Judge me if ye like, b-but if one inkling of this conversation ever reaches Hannah's ears, I'll see ye burn in Hell!”
Sara turned to leave, and Gavin stopped her.
“Ye are angry with me?” Gavin growled, pulling her back to her seat. “I have done nothing but work to protect ye and Hannah,” he hissed in Sara's ear. “Sit here, while I rouse the men to protect our camp.”
Sara rested her head upon her knees and bit her lip. She was coming apart at the seams. She felt like a dog that chomped the hand that fed it. She knew better than to show her ire to this man, but she had lost control of her prized composure.
If Hannah were disinherited, what would she do? Sara now had Elizabeth's interests to consider, as well. She must convince Gavin to help her keep this secret contained. It was in all their best interests.
Nearly silently, Thomas and Sir David slipped from the wagon and began walking the perimeter of the camp. Gavin returned to the fire and added a log. The flames licked hungrily, greedily moving to consume the dry fodder.
“I told Millie that ye tripped and fell. She and Hannah need not know about Polk until the morrow,” Gavin sighed as he sat back on the log. “Now, finish telling me of the day Hannah was born.”
“Like I said, I was accosted. I was twelve that summer. I went to my room, and drowned my sorrows in tears. My mother found me there, and I hadn't the heart to tell her what happened. I simply lied and said I skinned my knee. She could see the bruises on my hands and legs, and she went about her day. Hannah's brother, Christian, was only three at the time and consumed much of my mother's time. She left me to my rest and took Christian out to play.
“I remember feeling very self-righteous. I remember feeling that Lady Sanders and I had been wronged. I decided to help her. I knew nothing of child birth, but in my twelve-year-old mind, I was going to be the hero and save her from a long-suffering death.
“I secretly gathered the tools I had seen Millie take to the birthing of other bairns in the keep. I knew I would need a knife, linens, and water. I piled my flask, dagger, and cleaning cloths within a satchel my mother used for gathering herbs.
“No one was guarding the solar when I arrived. No one was foolish enough to risk the ire of Lord Sanders by entering the birthing room against his wishes. I was.
“When I arrived, the Lady Sanders was incoherent. She lay motionless in the darkened solar. All the windows had been covered. I moved to open them and remove the heavy tapestries.
“I remember how she roused slightly and smiled as the sun lit her face...She was covered in sweat.
“'Millie?' she mumbled to me, and I hadn't the heart to tell her no one was coming.
“'Aye,' I told her. 'Millie will be here anon.'
“Lady Sanders turned her head to me and gifted me with a tremulous smile. 'So he still cares for me, after all.'
“'Aye, My Lady,' I lied again. 'All will be well.'
“I-I had never seen a birth before. I knew nothing of how the babe even came forth. Lady Sanders writhed and rolled on the bed and I held her hand and swabbed her brow for over an hour. I began to worry that the process was taking much too long. What if I were caught?
“I remember a sudden, wrenching scream. W
ater rushed along the bed, then trickles of blood began soaking the lady's night gown. With trembling hands, I pulled the ruined garment from her emaciated body.
“She was so thin, Gavin. Twas as though her legs were twigs that could snap in two if bent. Her arms had no flesh left. Only the small, rounded stomach moved.
“Grabbing my arm, Lady Sander's eyes seemed wild. 'Save the bairn, Sara. Promise me, ye'll watch after the poor thing?'
“'As I would my own child!' I swore, feeling valiant and brave. I meant it, too. I had just learned that day that I could never expect to marry. The child within Lady Sander's wasted form represented my own future. Twas my child, as much as hers.”
Sara looked at Gavin, certain he could never understand the strange bond formed between women at such times, but he nodded, and she continued.
“The labor proceeded on its own, with no help from me, but Lady Sanders was weak and she was losing blood. When Hannah came forth, tiny and blue, upon the bed sheets, I picked her up and wiped her off with the linens I had brought.
“She was still attached to her mother with the cord, and I assumed that was what the knife was for. I did not want to hurt them, though, so I used my water flask to wet the linen and continued to clean Hannah and pat her back. She cried out, and I was frightened that Lord Sanders would come and find me there.
“'Cut the cord and g-give m-me my bairn,' Lady Sanders croaked through parched lips. With a shaky hand, I bent the cord and cut it. Blood spurted from both ends, and I nearly fainted, thinking I'd killed the bairn.
“Quickly, I rushed to the desk and grabbed a bit of twine the Lady Sanders had been using to bind up her missives. I tied the piece onto the chord attached to Hannah's belly, wrapped her in the remaining cloth, and handed her to her mother.
“'A girl', I said.
“'Thank God,' Lady Sanders replied smiling. Twas then that she grew very white and her eyes rolled back in her head. She would have dropped Hannah, but I scooped her up.
“Blood was gushing from her, and I knew I had to seek help. Running from the room, Hannah in my arms, I screamed.
