by Barb Hendee
When we stopped for lunch, though, as I began to dismount, I looked down to see Erik below me, reaching up.
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he said.
I was perfectly capable of dismounting a horse, but I followed his orders and let him grip my waist and lift me down. As my feet touched the ground, I realized why he had assisted me. My legs nearly gave way and I grabbed hold of him.
He flashed a grin. “You’ve never ridden for hours at a stretch and we’ve a ways to go. You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“A small price to pay,” I answered, trying to gain control of my legs.
After a light meal of bread and cheese, we mounted up and got back on the path. By mid-afternoon, my right hip was growing sore. In a sidesaddle, much of my weight was supported on my right side. But I offered no complaint.
I was still hopeful that we’d reach the Whale’s Keep boathouse before dark, and that Erik could get me to Chloe tonight.
The afternoon wore on and then he pointed. “There is it, just ahead.”
Coming around a tree, I looked out over the ocean and nearly gasped. Perhaps a mile from the shore, an island rose up from the water.
“However will we land?” I asked.
The sight was not at all what I’d expected. Though about five miles in length, the island was tall, with dark, rocky cliffs and no apparent shore.
“Around the south side,” Erik answered. “There’s a small but heavily guarded landing point.” He glanced at me. “Did you never wonder why Christophe has no fear of his own home being invaded? There’s only one place to land. The rest of Whale’s Keep is impenetrable.”
As I looked out at this forbidding place, I began to understand Christophe better. Gray waves with whitecaps crashed into jagged stone cliffs. Over the years, he’d often come to celebrate holidays with my family. It was little wonder he’d traveled so far. White Deer Lodge was a place of warmth and welcome.
This island almost seemed to shout, “Go away!”
As if hearing its voice on the wind, I could barely imagine Chloe living in such a place.
“There’s the boathouse,” Erik said, pointing to a small building up the shore—with a large adjoining stable.
At his words, a more pressing thought struck me. The sun was dipping. “Oh, Erik. Do we have enough light? Can you take me over now?”
He pulled up his horse. “You sound nearly desperate. Are you in such a hurry?”
“Yes. Please take me across. I want to see Chloe tonight.”
For once, he didn’t make a joke. Instead, he looked up at the sky. “All right.”
As we headed forward again, I had a better view up the shore. The boathouse was larger than I’d first thought, made from faded clapboard with thick shutters covering the windows. The attached stable was wind worn and faded as well. But there was an enormous barracks and second stable built in a clearing in the trees behind the boathouse, and this was alive with activity.
Though there was no port or dock here, I counted seven longboats with oars pulled up onto the shore above high tide.
As we approached, Corporal Devon rode directly beside me.
Two men stood out front of the boathouse, talking. One of them was plump and somewhat grizzled, wearing boots, thick pants, and a canvas coat. The other was tall and perhaps forty years old, wearing chain armor and the light gray tabard of the de Fiores.
This man turned at the sound of our horses.
“Lord Erik,” he said, and then glanced at me with some surprise.
Erik and Corporal Devon dismounted quickly, and Erik lifted me down with no warning. Then he strode up to the man. “Captain Fáuvel. It’s good to see you.” He motioned to me. “I don’t believe you’ve met my youngest sister, the lady Nicole.”
I did not wear jewels or an elaborate hairstyle, but my traveling gown was of fine red wool and my cloak was trimmed in white fur.
The captain nodded in respect. “My lady.” But he still appeared nonplussed by our arrival.
“I’ve brought Nicole to stay with Lady de Fiore until the child comes,” Erik offered.
“Oh, of course.” The captain nodded in understanding. “Will you need lodgings until morning?”
“We’d like to make the crossing tonight,” Erik answered. “I can help man one of the boats.”
“Tonight?” The captain glanced up at the fading light.
“Please,” I said quietly.
At the sound of my voice, he looked at me again. Then he turned to the grizzled older man. “Fetch Geoff and Marteen. I’ll take Lord Erik and his sister across.”
The other man grunted. “Suit yourself.” Turning, he called into the boathouse, “Geoff! Marteen! Get your arses out here. Couple of nobles to haul across.”
Ignoring these rude manners, Erik asked the captain, “Can you put up my men for a day or two? They’ve not had supper.”
“Yes. Send them on back to the barracks. We’ve spare bunks now.” With the ease of a soldier speaking to another soldier, the captain turned to Corporal Devon. “Ask for Sergeant Harper. He’ll have your horses stabled and get you set up with supper.”
The corporal nodded. “Thank you, sir.” But before leaving, he unloaded my small trunk and carried it over.
“Should I put this into a boat, my lord?” he asked Erik.
“No, just set it down.”
With that, Corporal Devon and our guards left us, heading off for the enormous barracks. Two rather shabby-looking men in their late twenties walked out of the boathouse with petulant expressions. Both had lank hair and wore clothing long in need of a wash.
“A crossing?” one of them asked. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight,” Captain Fáuvel answered in a tone that brooked no argument. “Now grab this trunk, load it into a boat, and get the boat in the water.”
The two men moved quickly into action. Erik and I followed them down toward the water, with the captain striding behind.
“It takes four men to handle a boat,” Erik told me.
“But you’ve visited Christophe, so you’ve done this before,” I said.
“Many times.”
It had never occurred to me wonder about Erik’s life when he was away from home. I worried for his safety, but otherwise I’d never really wondered what he did while away. I had certainly not pictured him rowing a boat through high waves out to an island.
After the two men loaded my trunk into a boat, Erik and the captain joined them to help push the boat forward into the water. Then Erik strode back to me, and before I could say anything, he swept me up in both arms and carried me into the water, depositing me at the back.
“You’ll need to hold on tight,” he said.
I gripped my wooden seat with one hand and the side of the small craft with the other.
All four men climbed in and set their oars.
Then we were off.
The sun had nearly set and dusk was upon us, but there was still light by which to see, and the men appeared to know how to oar the boat to the top of one wave and use its momentum to roll down the other side. While this alarmed me slightly at first—as it was a new experience—I soon caught the rhythm of their intention.
No matter what happened, I was determined to keep a brave face and sit quietly, as I was the one who had insisted on this crossing tonight. It did not take long for us to travel the mile between the shore and the island, but then the men kept rowing, and I remembered what Erik had said about the only entrance point being on the south side.
Erik called to me. “You all right, Nicole?”
The truth was that the reality of being trapped in a small boat on a vast ocean was a good deal more frightening than I’d expected. Water splashed inside the boat, spraying the bottom half of my cloak and dress.
“I’m well,” I called back to him. “Pr
ess on.”
My thoughts flowed to Christophe’s words by the beehives.
All the nobles at court speak of Whale’s Keep with such admiration, but few ever make a visit, and if they do, they rarely visit twice.
I’d not understood him then, but I did now.
As we rounded the corner of the south corner of the island, I saw a break in the cliffs and a rocky beach. All four men rowing our boat were panting as they heaved on the oars, and we rolled to top of one wave and down the backside, but looking over their shoulders, they steered us true.
There were men on the rocky beach and I could see a gatehouse.
As we neared the shore, the captain dropped his ore and moved to the front of the boat.
Putting one hand to his mouth, he called, “Kerock! Demargo! Get ready to catch us.”
Two men ran into the water until the waves reached their thighs, and they grabbed the front of our boat as soon as it was close enough, pulling for all they were worth.
A moment later, Erik, the captain, and both men from the boathouse jumped out and helped pull the vessel up onto the rocky shore. I still clung to my seat.
Finally, the boat stopped moving and Erik was beside me, helping me out. Still panting with his clothing half soaked, he smiled.
“I told you I’d get you here safe.”
“You did indeed.” Though I was shaken, my voice sounded steady.
“But we’re not done yet,” he said, pointing to the gatehouse tunnel. “We need to pass through there and climb up.”
Though somewhat confused by what “climb” meant at this point, of course I understood that we were at the bottom of the cliffs, and any dwellings would be higher. Darkness was falling, but looking ahead, I saw a raised portcullis.
“This way,” the captain said, passing under the open portcullis and into the gatehouse tunnel. “I’ll have the lady’s trunk brought up.”
Erik and I followed him down the gatehouse tunnel and then under another open portcullis. Once out of the tunnel, I found myself looking up at a seemingly endless set of stone stairs.
“How could you ever get a horse on or off this island?” I asked the captain.
“A horse?” he repeated. “We wouldn’t even try. Is this your first visit?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “You’ll see.”
With that, we began our climb…up and up. My thoughts churned, keeping my mind occupied with anything other than the sheer effort it took to keep moving. What about food and supplies? Did everything have to be carried up these steps?
Finally, when my legs were nearly ready to give out, we reached the top and passed through another gatehouse, and then we stepped out to the sight of a thriving village, perhaps the size of a town.
All around us, as far as I could see in the increasing darkness, spread roads lined by shops and dwellings. There were taverns and small barns. Numerous people still bustled about, most likely heading home. Children and dogs hurried after adults. The ground sloped upward and looking to my right, I saw a great, four-towered keep at the top of the cliffs.
“Oh,” I said, somewhat at a loss.
The captain spoke to a young guard. “Run up to the keep to give word that Lord Erik and his sister have arrived.”
“Yes, sir.”
Erik watched my face. “This place is astonishing, isn’t it? Like a small world unto itself. The island has a twenty-mile circumference, so nearly everything they need is produced here. They raise chickens, sheep, and cattle. You should see the orchards. They even have a vineyard.”
“Why did you never tell more of life here?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have done any good. Words aren’t enough. You have to see it.” He looked around and breathed the air. “To feel it.”
For my jokester, warrior brother, this last statement waxed almost philosophical. But it was clear he had a fondness for this “little world unto itself” as he put it. I wondered how Chloe felt about the place.
For myself, I could already feel myself leaning toward Erik’s view. From the shore, the island had seemed forbidding. But now, inside the cliffs, it seemed more safe and welcoming.
“The way,” said the captain, leading on.
We followed him up through the town. The back of the keep was built over the cliffs, but a low stone wall bordered the front with a break at the center point, and we passed through the break into a courtyard.
But we’d barely entered the courtyard when two large doors of the keep opened and Christophe came jogging out, as if he’d not been able to wait.
“Erik,” he called, picking up the pace to close the distance between us. He was not a man to offer embraces and yet, upon skidding to a stop, he grasped Erik’s upper arm. “I am so glad to see you.”
He was dressed simply in boots, canvas pants, and a black wool shirt. He’d not shaved in several days and the shadow on his jaw was a full stubble. But somehow, it suited him. The dark circles under his eyes did not.
“It’s good to see you too,” Erik said, also glancing at the dark circles.
I held in a breath. This was the only element of the journey that had concerned me. I wasn’t sure how Christophe might feel about my presence. But as he stepped past Erik to greet me, I saw nothing in his face but gratitude.
“Nicole,” he said. “I’m so glad you’ve come. Chloe’s spirits rose the moment she read your father’s letter telling her that you and Erik would soon be on the road. She has been awaiting your arrival.”
“Have her spirits been low?” Erik asked.
Christophe hesitated before answering. “Yes. She’s far from her home and carrying a first child, and you of all people know I’m not the most entertaining company.”
This response was so open, so honest, that Erik patted his arm. “Well, we’re here now, but I’ll need to head back in a day or two.”
“So soon?” Christophe asked. Both the regret and disappointment in his voice pulled at my heart.
“Yes, Father needs me now,” Erik answered, “but Nicole can stay as long as Chloe needs her.”
“Good,” Christophe breathed. “Thank you.”
I’d never seen him like this, in need of help and expressing gratitude for our company. I wondered what had gone on here over the winter.
But he turned to Captain Fáuvel. “Edward, thank you for helping to bring them across tonight. Will you join us for supper? I think our cook is baking a fish pie with that butter crust you like.”
He spoke to the captain like a friend, on a first-name basis. Christophe had just invited the captain to join us at the table and knew what kind of food the man liked. I wondered if my father knew anything about the captain of our guards.
Captain Fáuvel nodded. “It would be my honor, but Lady Nicole here tells me this is her first visit, and I fear the crossing and the climb up have nearly done her in.”
I was not quite done in, but neither was he entirely wrong and I shivered in the night air.
“Oh, forgive me,” Christophe said in some alarm.
Quickly, he wrapped one arm around me and began guiding me toward the doors. Though I’d never have admitted it, I liked the feel of his arm, the same arm that held me on the dance floor at the banquet last summer.
Erik and I seemed to be mending the rift between us.
Perhaps Christophe and I could mend our rift too. He had long been my friend and I’d missed him.
* * * *
The bottom floor of the keep was square and solid, with crenellated turrets built into the second story of each of the four corners. The turrets rose into the air above the third floor.
To me, who had only lived in buildings constructed from logs, Whale’s Keep seemed like a castle.
Christophe ushered us inside the enormous front doors into a square foyer. Passages led right, l
eft, and straight ahead. He started to move forward when a voice from the left called out.
“Nicole!”
Turning, I saw Chloe coming toward me. She appeared to be trying to move quickly and gracefully at the same time, but her stomach was large with the child she carried, making her gait somewhat ungainly. Pulling out from under Christophe’s arm, I ran to her. Upon reaching her, though, I was careful with my embrace. Something about her struck me as…fragile.
She hugged me back and did not let go. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”
Then Erik was striding down the passage and she let go of me. Although those two were close in many ways, they rarely touched each other, but he clasped her to him, and she laid one side of her face against his shoulder.
“I knew you would bring her yourself,” she whispered.
Watching this unexpected show of emotion, I took stock of her appearance. Though her stomach was swollen, the rest of her was thin. Her face was so thin there were hollows below her cheekbones.
I touched her arm. “Have you been well?”
She pulled partially away from Erik and looked at me as if she didn’t know how to answer. But behind us, the front doors opened again and a guard came in carrying my trunk.
Chloe’s eyes dropped to my damp cloak and skirt. “I am being selfish. You’ll need to change before dinner and I’m sure you are hungry. I’ve had rooms prepared. We’ll get you comfortable and then we’ll meet for dinner in the great hall.”
“You know I hate to make a fuss,” Erik said. “Nicole’s cloak may be wet, but the captain and I are both soaked from the waist down and I didn’t bring a trunk. Any chance of spare clothing?”
“Don’t be absurd,” I answered. “You love to make a fuss.”
But looking at his legs, a glimpse of the old Chloe came back. Standing straight, she said with regal grace, “Of course, brother. I’ll see to it right away.”
* * * *
I dressed simply for dinner, in gown of light blue wool, and then brushed out my hair. My guest room was on the second floor and it was a fine room, with a four-post bed and a cedar wardrobe. Yet, I barely noticed the furnishings.
The image of Chloe’s thin face and the dark circles under Christophe’s eyes troubled me. Something was wrong here. Of course, Chloe would be worried over the impending arrival of her child—which would come too soon after her wedding. But she was clever and the prospect of an early birth could be managed. She was not the type to stop eating and neglect herself.
