by Alexa Aston
She followed him with a heavy heart, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. Obviously, he did not feel about her as she did him. The last thing she wanted to do was send him off with guilt hanging over him for not returning her sentiments. They were friends. Over their weeks together, they had built a friendship to be treasured, even though they would never meet one another again. Elinor would see her companion off in good spirits. He deserved that much from her.
Placing a smile on her face, she joined him. Both slipped on their gauntlets and removed Bess and Tris from their mews. Hal held each bird for a few moments, telling them both goodbye as he returned them to their cages. Cleo swooped from the sky and landed on the perch and he bid her farewell, too.
Hal pulled off his gauntlet and handed it to her. “Thank you for everything you taught me in my time here, Elinor. I enjoyed every moment working with your raptors. Though I am sorry about the circumstances that led me here, I appreciate you taking me in and befriending me.”
“I have enjoyed coming to know you, Hal,” she said brightly, consciously keeping a smile on her lips. “Your stories have kept me amused for many hours. I, too, am grateful for your friendship.” She paused. “I hope one day that we can renew our acquaintance.”
“I’d like that. Very much,” he said, his gaze meeting and holding hers.
For a moment, Elinor thought he might kiss her. Then the unreadable look on his face vanished and he smiled broadly.
“Then I am off.” He gave her a courtly bow, triggering a memory of how she and her mother had been greeted by knights in the great hall so many years ago. “Till we meet again.”
Hal strode from the clearing without a backward glance. Elinor waited until he was out of sight and gave in to the feeling to follow him. She knew these woods better than anyone on Whitley lands and silently tracked him at a distance, not ready to let him go.
Finally, he reached the road and she lost sight of him. By the time she came to the edge of the woods, he was a good ways down the path. Elinor clung to a tree, watching until he became only a speck and then disappeared from view. She collapsed to her knees, a mournful wail piercing the surrounding quiet. Heaving sobs erupted as her fingers dug into the earth.
He was gone. Hal was gone. For good. She would never see him again, despite their final words to one another. He marched jauntily off to his old life, one that held no place for her.
Elinor dragged herself to her feet. She wouldn’t think about him. She couldn’t. Not with everything she faced in her immediate future. She returned to the clearing and stopped in her tracks.
“Horus!” she cried.
She rushed to the tiercel, who lay on the ground only a few feet from his mews. Cleo stood next to him, keening softly as she nudged him with her beak. Not taking time to place her gauntlet on, Elinor sat and placed Horus in her lap. She gently stroked the peregrine as the life ebbed away from him. The faint heartbeat beneath her fingers eventually ceased as his eyes closed a final time.
Cleo hopped into her lap and lay her head next to her mate as Elinor cried for the loss of Horus.
And Hal.
Chapter 14
Elinor held a lethargic Cleo in her lap. For two days and nights, the peregrine had mourned her life mate. The raptor did not preen and refused to eat or drink. Elinor feared Cleo would soon follow Horus into death. She didn’t know how much her heart could take. She’d only left the falcon to feed Bess and Tris, neglecting to eat much herself. Because of that, her head pounded fiercely while her stomach churned noisily.
A rap at the door startled her. No guests ever came to the cottage. Elinor sat silently, not bothering to acknowledge the visitor’s presence.
“Elinor!” a muffled voice called from outside. “’Tis Father Leo. Open up.” More knocking ensued.
She did not respond. Hopefully, he would go away. Then she noticed that she had not bolted the door when she’d come in from feeding Bess and Tris. Would the meddlesome priest try to enter without permission?
He did.
“Elinor?” he called out as he came through the door. He squinted and caught sight of her. “Oh.” He closed the door behind him and crossed to her, a grave look on his face. “Is your bird ill?”
“She is,” Elinor said dully. She had no wish to carry on a conversation with anyone, much less a priest. Her anger at God had built slowly over the past few days. If Father Leo did not watch himself, he would take the brunt of it.
The priest sat on the floor beside her. “I have brought Gerald with me. He is the new falconer from the far north who arrived yesterday. Lady Rohesia would like you to work with him today and tomorrow and then report to her at the keep on Gerald’s progress with the falcons.”
His words confirmed her suspicion that the noblewoman had already sent for a falconer and had merely planted the idea of bringing in a new one with her husband since it would have been impossible for this Gerald to arrive so quickly from so great a distance. Anger now boiled inside her at Lady Rohesia’s deception.
“I will do my duty,” she ground out. “See if this man is capable of working with my raptors.”
Father Leo looked to Cleo. “Will she live?”
“I doubt it,” Elinor said harshly, regretting her tone as Cleo shuddered.
“Life and death are all a part of God’s plan, Elinor,” the priest said placidly, as if he remarked upon the recent weather.
Rage poured through her at his thoughtless words.
“What else is a part of your God’s plan?” she demanded in a low tone so as not to upset Cleo any more than she already had. “He must be an angry God, for He has shown me no mercy.”
“Our Lord Jesus Christ is full of mercy,” Father Leo countered.
Tears of fury spilled down her cheeks as she asked, “Then where was He when a young, motherless child was turned out of her home? Why did He allow that to happen to me? My mother died. Died! And yet my father, who never once referred to me by name since I was an insignificant girl, offered me no comfort. Instead, he ejected me from the keep and said I was never to return. I was placed in the hands of a man I had never met and taken from everyone and everything I had ever known.”
She wiped the tears from her cheeks, embarrassed that they showed weakness. “And now what has happened to me? After years of serving Whitley, raising and training its raptors, I have lost everything. Jasper. Hal. Horus.” She glanced down at her lap and softened her tone. “And now my precious Cleo.” Swallowing, she added, “Soon, I will lose this home for when I speak to Lady Rohesia, she will send me far away. I already know this.”
Elinor glared up at the priest. “So where is the mercy in all of this, Father? I am a penniless noblewoman who never learned how to act as one of my class should. I dress and live as a male peasant. I have no coin and will soon be an outcast. What kind of God would do that? What did I ever do to injure Him so that He would punish me?”
Before she received an answer, a knock sounded. The priest rose and ushered in a man who looked achingly like Jasper. He had the same lean frame and was close to Jasper’s height. His eyes were kind and his face weathered by years spent in the sun.
He smiled at her. “Greetings, Elinor. I am Gerald and I must compliment you on what you have done with the young raptors. I’ve only spent a few minutes with them but I can already see how well you have trained them. They are most intelligent and eager. I look forward to working with them.”
Then he frowned as he looked at her lap and came to her. Kneeling, he pulled off his gauntlet and set it aside. He studied Cleo, deep sorrow reflected in his compassionate eyes.
“How old is she?” he asked gently.
“Ten and three,” Elinor told him.
“Her feathers are dull. Her appetite?”
“She has none.” Elinor paused. “Cleo just lost Horus, her life mate. She had spent every day she lived in his company.”
Gerald reached out and stroked Cleo’s head. “Ah, the poor thing. She’s griev
ing. Horus was her soul mate. She won’t want to go on without him.” He looked to the priest. “Falcons mate for life,” he explained. “Cleo will mourn Horus’ loss until she wastes away. I have seen it happen before.”
Elinor’s eyes welled with tears. She, too, grieved. Not only for Jasper and Horus but for Hal’s absence from her life. She still hadn’t gotten used to him being gone and expected him to walk through the cottage door at any moment.
She watched Gerald gently pet Cleo, a falcon he’d never seen, and saw his anguish at the raptor’s impending death. Despite wanting to hate everything about this new falconer who would replace her, she realized he would take excellent care of Bess and Tris. Knowing her girls would be in good hands gave her some solace.
“I will leave you together to care for this bird,” Father Leo said. “Elinor, you know when to come to the castle.” He bowed his head and left the cottage.
Elinor lost track of how long they sat with Cleo. Gerald attempted no conversation, which she appreciated. He merely comforted the raptor as she did.
Cleo shivered and made a soft mewling sound. She opened her eyes and glanced up at Elinor.
“I love you, my sweet Cleo,” she managed to say, her voice breaking. “You have been like a child to me. I will always remember our time together.” Elinor dipped her head and brushed her lips on the falcon’s crown. “Go. Be with Horus. Give him my love.”
The bird expelled a last breath and grew still. She swept her hand along Cleo’s coat one last time. Gerald helped her to her feet and Elinor wrapped her favorite falcon in clean linen.
“Have you already buried Horus?” he asked, his eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Nay. When Cleo and I found him, her distress caused me to spend every waking moment by her side. I placed Horus in the mews.” She indicated the small cages inside the cottage, where Cleo’s mate also lay wrapped in linen. “I wanted them to be close together.”
“We can place them next to one another. I’ll dig them a grave they can share. Show me where you want them laid to rest,” he said gruffly, mopping his eyes with his sleeve.
Elinor led Gerald outside, knowing exactly where her raptors should be buried.
“Here. At the foot of this oak,” she told him. “Since they will lie next to the clearing, they can be here in spirit as Bess and Tris complete their training and mature over the years.”
“So that’s who these two beauties are.” Gerald looked at the young females sitting in their mews, each watching with interest what the humans did.
“Bess is on the left. Tris is slightly smaller than her sister.”
“Have they worked with the lure yet?” he asked.
“Aye. They’ve even begun stooping to it,” she said with pride.
Gerald nodded in approval. “Good. Then find me a shovel and let us bury their lovely parents. I hope after that you’ll be up to showing me all they can do.”
“I will,” Elinor promised, pushing aside her grief.
*
Hal’s feet had grown weary as he walked the last few days but his leg had held up well. In the next quarter hour, he would reach Sandbourne, home of his cousin, Elysande, and her husband. Michael Devereux had served as one of Geoffrey de Montfort’s knights when Hal had begun to walk, and the family loved telling stories of how Hal would call Michael’s name over and over, chasing the knight about and being chased in return. He could still remember Michael bringing him up into the saddle to ride with him.
Michael left Kinwick when he became the Earl of Sandbourne and had married Elysande soon after. No one in England knew more about horses than Elysande did. Since by horse it only took a full day and until noon of the next to arrive at Kinwick, Hal hoped his cousin would loan him one of her beloved horses so he could shave off time from his long journey.
Besides a horse, he needed new clothing and a shave and probably a day’s rest before he set out again. He looked forward to seeing Elysande and Michael and hoped also to visit with their son, David. They had been close growing up and David had been knighted several months ago when he’d turned one and twenty. Hal had not been able to get away from court because of the charged political atmosphere and regretted not attending David’s Oath of Knighthood Ceremony. David now resided permanently at Sandbourne, preparing for the day he would take his father’s place as its earl. David’s sister had married the previous year and his younger brother, Tucker, served as a squire to Geoffrey de Montfort’s cousin, Raynor Le Roux.
Coming around a bend in the road, he spotted Sandbourne perched on a hill. Hal picked up his pace, eager to arrive. As he made his way toward the castle, he wished Elinor could be here with him. She would have gotten along well with the Devereux family and he would have given anything to have introduced them to the woman he loved. He could hear David teasing him about having fallen in love. Michael, too, would laugh that Hal loved a woman crazy for falcons just as he loved a woman who was mad for horses. Hal vowed that once he returned and claimed Elinor as his own, they would marry in front of as much family as could attend. Those who couldn’t make it to Kinwick for the nuptial mass would be in store for a visit, for he wished Elinor to meet everyone he loved. His family would become hers.
And they would make a family of their own.
Arriving at the gates of Sandbourne, he greeted the gatekeeper by name and gained quick admittance. He decided to head straight to the training yard, hoping to see Michael and David in action. Though he’d enjoyed his time working with Elinor’s raptors, Hal longed to swing a sword or mace once again.
As he drew near, it startled him to recognize his sister passing near his right. What would Jessimond be doing at Sandbourne?
“Hal?” He heard astonishment in her voice before she broke out in a smile and came running toward him. “Hal!” she cried with enthusiasm.
She flew at him, her arms and legs wrapping tightly about him. He laughed as he twirled them in circles.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded as she released him and stepped away, her hands going to her waist.
Hal grinned. “I was about to ask you the same thing. You’re growing up, Jess. You look quite pretty.”
Jessimond would be two and twelve sometime in June and she had blossomed since he’d last been home. He could see more than traces of the woman she would become, a true beauty. Her wavy, thick hair shone like spun gold in the sunlight and her unusual violet eyes darkened in color at his compliment. She blushed a pretty pink, twisting her hands in front of her.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he chided her. “Simply say thank you when a man flatters you. But watch for those who flatter you overmuch,” he warned, as a good brother should.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly, batting her lashes coyly at him.
“Enough of that.” He drew her into another hug and then released her. “I’ll ask again—why are you at Sandbourne?”
“We came so Nan can work with Michael’s archers. Mother and Father are here, as well. They will be so excited to see you.” Jessimond frowned. “They have been worried about you, Hal. We all have. No word has come for ever so long.”
He threw an arm about her. “I know, Jess. But I am here now, in the flesh, and eager to see them.”
“I was going to fetch Mother and Elysande from the stables to the training yard. Nan has set up a contest between various soldiers. Michael and Father wanted them to come watch.”
“Let’s retrieve them,” Hal suggested.
Jessimond chattered happily as they walked to the stables. Being with her reminded him how much he had missed home. They entered the stables and he put a finger to his lips. She stopped talking as they wound their way down the stalls in search of Elysande and his mother.
They turned a corner and Hal stopped in his tracks. Elysande’s beauty had only grown and matured over the years. She had to be a couple of years older than two score but she still was a lovely woman.
But Merryn de Montfort’s beauty stunned him.
Hi
s mother would turn two score and ten this year and yet she radiated eternal youth. Hal had often laughed when his father referred to his mother as a goddess but Hal also knew how fierce his father’s love was for his wife. Pride at being this woman’s offspring rippled through him.
Sensing their presence, Merryn turned. Though a few laugh lines had appeared around her eyes, the rest of her face remained smooth. Her eyes lit up as she caught sight of him.
“Hal!”
He hurried to embrace her, holding her a long moment as he drank in her familiar scent and felt the comfort of a mother’s arms. Finally, he drew away.
“You could stand a bath. And a change of clothes,” she admonished, though he saw the teasing light in her eyes. “And sending a missive our way every now and then would be something for you to consider in the future. Or else you might have to be summoned home to attend my funeral mass because I will have dropped dead from worry.”
He kissed her hands. “I agree, Mother. To everything you say. I’m sorry that I wasn’t in a position to send word to you and Father. I was indisposed for several weeks with a broken leg.”
Her eyes flew to his legs. “You are all right?” Her hands clutched his arms as she scanned his face.
“I am quite well now. I have much to tell you and Father, though.” He glanced to his left. “Greetings, Cousin Elysande. I did not mean to ignore you.” He stepped over and gave her a kiss.
“I am happy to see you alive and well, Hal. Michael will be delighted to find you at Sandbourne. David, too. We should go find them and celebrate your return to our fold.”
“Nan has an archery contest about to begin,” piped up Jessimond. “She wanted you all to come and watch.”
Merryn put an arm around her daughter and took Hal’s hand. “The contest can wait. I want to spend time with my son.”
“I will return to the keep and have food and drink sent to the solar so that we may enjoy a long visit,” Elysande said. “Bring Geoffrey and Michael back with you. Nan and David, too.”
Hal escorted his mother and sister to the training yard. When they grew near, he spotted his father and Michael standing on a platform observing the action. Geoffrey de Montfort glanced in his direction and beamed. He jumped down and strode toward them.
