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Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 02

Page 10

by A Knight of Battle


  “Aye Lecie, we did.” Talan stepped forward to hand her the pouch. “In response to Sir Albin’s message, her ladyship has sent medicine for your father.”

  “He is desperately in need of something to ease his pain.” Her eyes flying to Albin’s, Lecie struggled with her composure. “I do not know how to thank you.”

  “Oh, Lecie,” Hamon spoke from behind her. “Have you seen Clayton about? I need his assist with something.”

  “You bastard,” Albin snarled, making a lunge for Hamon. “I know you threatened Lecie with the boy.”

  “No,” Lecie shrieked as Talan tackled Albin, driving him face first into the ground. “Do not hurt him, Sir Talan.”

  “Get off me,” Albin ground out when he could not toss Talan off his back.

  “Give me your word you will make no move against Hamon,” Talan hissed in his ear. When Albin refused to speak, Talan adjusted his knees in the center of his back. “I can remain like this all day if need be.”

  Albin bucked until with a loud curse he stilled. “I give you my word.”

  Gaining his feet, Talan offered Albin a hand up.

  With narrowed eyes, Albin knocked his hand aside as he scrambled to his feet. “We shall speak of this later.”

  Ignoring Albin, Talan addressed Hamon. “If I were you, I would wipe that smug look off your face before Albin breaks his word and I let him.”

  Wisely holding his tongue, Hamon responded with a darted glare in Albin’s direction.

  “Lecie,” Talan continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Lady Reina instructed that a measure of the medicine be added to broth or warmed cider with each meal.”

  “Thank you, Sir Talan,” Lecie responded softly. “If you will excuse me, I shall see that he gets some right away.”

  “Lecie,” Albin called as she turned to go. “I make no apology for my attack on Hamon, yet I regret it distressed you so.”

  “It was not he who I was concerned about,” Lecie replied softly. “After your kindness, I could not bear to see you hurt.”

  “Admit he threatened the lad and I vow he will pay for it.”

  “You mistake my momentary concern for forgiveness, Sir Albin.” Avoiding his gaze, Lecie studied the curve of his full lower lip. “I assure you there is no change in my intent of yesterday.”

  Dipping into a brief curtsy, Lecie entered the inn.

  “Seems like she is shut of you once and for all, Sir Albin,” Hamon taunted over his shoulder as he followed Lecie.

  Talan gripped Albin’s shoulder to keep him from going after Hamon. “Well, that meeting could have gone better.”

  His mouth dropping open, Albin turned an incredulous look on his friend. “Do you think?”

  * * *

  “Get out of my way, Hamon.” Intent to give her father the medicine, Lecie held a cup of cider in her hand.

  “You did well out there,” Hamon approved. “I must say it stung me a bit to hear it was Sir Albin’s welfare and not mine that you were concerned about.”

  “It would never be yours.” She moved to pass him when he grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

  “I suggest you sweeten your words to me,” he hissed. “Lest I forget myself and treat you no better than you deserve.”

  “Go to the devil, Hamon.” Pulling free of his grasp, she entered the crowded common room. “I must put an end to my father’s suffering.”

  Several local patrons looked up in surprise at her unusual show of anger as she hastened up the steps. Returning to their conversations, the current topics had changed.

  Pausing to collect her tumultuous thoughts at the top of the steps, Lecie willed her racing heart to slow. Despite all that had occurred between them and against her own wishes, she was in love with Albin. If not for Hamon’s subtle threat against Clayton, she never would have been able to ignore the longing she saw in his eyes.

  With a long steadying breath, she pasted a smile on her face and entered her father’s chamber.

  Moaning weakly in his sleep the dark shadows beneath her father’s eyes stood out in stark contrast to his ashen face.

  Lecie’s smile faltered as she knelt beside the bed. “Da,” she said softly to wake him. “I have medicine that will help you rest easier.”

  His eyes fluttered open to focus on her face. “Elena,” he wheezed. “You have come for me at last.”

  “No, Da.” Tears filled Lecie’s eyes at the mention of her mother. “It is Lecie.”

  “Lass, I had hoped…”

  “I know,” she interrupted before he could finish. “I brought medicine to make you more comfortable.”

  “Dr. Rayburn?” he managed. “Came back to tend me?”

  “I doubt Dr. Rayburn shall ever darken our door again.” Propping him up, she held the cup to his lips. “Sir Albin was kind enough to send a messenger to Baroness Erlegh on our behalf.”

  Drinking as much of the cider as he could manage, he nodded. “He is a good man.”

  “Aye, he is.” Lecie averted her eyes by placing the cup on the nightstand. “Do you need anything else?”

  Closing his eyes, her father wheezed, “Naught that you can help me with.”

  “Then get some rest.” Lecie stood to place a kiss on his forehead. “I shall check on you in a short while.”

  “Lecie?” he called as she was about to leave. “I could not be a prouder father.”

  “I love you too.” Lecie smiled tenderly on her way out. “Get some rest now.”

  “Such a touching scene between father and daughter,” Hamon said with a sneer the moment Lecie stepped into the passageway.

  Startled by his presence, her smile faded. “Do you not have the bar to tend?”

  “The men can wait a spell.” Lifting a silken strand of her hair, Hamon brought it to his nose to inhale its scent. “You and I need to talk.”

  “I fulfilled my end of the bargain,” Lecie spat, yanking her hair free. “We have nothing further to discuss.”

  Turning her back on him, she descended the steps.

  “We shall soon see about that,” Hamon murmured as he opened the door to her father’s chamber.

  EIGHT

  Lecie found Osana alone in the brewing shed when she entered to check the supply of ale. “Where have Sabina and Clayton gotten off to?”

  Glancing up from her task of measuring barley, Osana straightened. “Sabina had to make use of the privy. We finished our chores early and thought to assist you in here.”

  “That is very kind.” Lecie smoothed a wayward lock of blonde hair behind Osana’s ear. “Where is Clayton?”

  “I know not.” Osana shrugged. “Last I saw of him he ran off towards the river after Tugger.”

  “I told you not to let him out of your sight,” Lecie spoke more harshly than she intended. “How long ago did he leave?”

  “Only a short while ago, after he finished picking turnips in the garden.” Osana’s eyes filled with tears. “Forgive me, Lecie. I forgot.”

  “No, Osana,” Lecie replied, wrapping an arm around her sister’s slender shoulders. “I am the one who should be apologizing.”

  “Lecie, you ruined the surprise,” Sabina whined from the doorway.

  “It was still a wonderful surprise.” Lecie forced a smile as she acknowledged Sabina. “Thank you both.”

  Pulling the door to the shed closed, Lecie hiked up her skirts and took off at a run towards the river.

  Out of breath, with her side cramping, she only slowed when she spotted Clayton strolling along the sloped bank beside Sir Talan.

  She spotted Tugger chasing rabbits in the brush a few paces ahead of the pair as she approached.

  Dipping her head when Sir Talan acknowledged her presence, she turned a frown upon Clayton. “Did I or did I not tell you to stay close to the inn?”

  “I am close to the inn,” Clayton responded pointing to a spot behind her. “I can see the slates on the roof from the top of that rise.”

  “I see I am going to have
to be more specific in the future.” Lecie smiled despite the fright he had caused her.

  “No harm would have come to him this day,” Talan interjected softly. “I was fortunate enough to spot him on my way to the sheriff’s.”

  “Once again I am beholden to you, Sir Talan,” Lecie replied, reluctantly meeting his knowing gaze. “Please extend my fondest greetings to Mylla.”

  “I shall.” Talan dipped his head. “How is your father faring, if you do not mind my asking?”

  “I gave him the medicine her ladyship sent before I left.” Relieved he seemed content not to mention Albin, she relaxed. “I pray it eases his pain.”

  “How come you and Sir Albin are no longer staying at the inn?” Clayton interrupted as he tossed a stone into the racing water. “Sir Albin promised he would show me how to play chess before he returned to Castell Maen.”

  “Then he shall, lad,” Talan replied, keeping his gaze on Lecie. “Sir Albin always keeps his promises.”

  Averting her eyes, Lecie called to Tugger. The dog came bounding out of the brush with a wild hare clamped between its teeth.

  “Come, Clayton, we must return to the inn.” Briefly meeting Talan’s gaze, Lecie dipped her head. “Sir Talan, enjoy your visit with the sheriff’s family.”

  “I shall,” he acknowledged, reaching out to ruffle Clayton’s hair. “Next time you see fit to wander off by the river, it would please me greatly to escort you. If you like, we can even go fishing.”

  “Thank you, Sir Talan. I would like that very much.” Clayton beamed. “Please tell Sir Albin to come for a visit soon, I miss him.”

  “He will be very happy to hear it.” Acknowledging Lecie with a dip of the head, he strode off to retrieve his horse.

  “Are you ready to return to the inn, Little Man?” Lecie smoothed Clayton’s ruffled hair. “I am sure I can search out a sweet or two for you.”

  “Aye.” Clayton turned sad eyes to her. “Is Da going to die soon?”

  Unprepared for the question, Lecie took a moment to respond. Dropping onto the dry riverbank, she patted the spot beside her. Once Clayton complied, she reached for his hand. “I fear he does not have much time left.”

  “I knew as much.” Clayton’s eyes filled with tears as he stared towards the untouched forest across the river. “I may be young, yet I do have eyes to see and ears to hear with.”

  Absently brushing away her own tears, Lecie’s love for him nearly overwhelmed her. “In truth you may be young, yet you are as wise as an elder.”

  “I have to be,” he sniffled. “I shall be the man of the family soon.”

  “I am sorry you did not have the childhood I wished for you, Clayton.” Her voice breaking, Lecie turned away to keep him from seeing her tears.

  “There, there,” Clayton soothed. “I shall make certain everything is alright.”

  “I know you will.” Lecie smiled as she gained her feet. “Promise me something?”

  “Anything,” he swore as he scrambled to his feet beside her.

  “Promise me you will never again wander off alone or go anywhere with Hamon regardless of what he tells you.”

  “Hamon?” Clayton’s smooth brow creased in confusion. “Am I not to trust him, Lecie?”

  “No, you are not,” Lecie held her pinky finger up. “Swear to me you will stay clear of him as much as possible.”

  Hooking his pinky with hers, Clayton nodded solemnly. “I swear it.”

  Strolling behind Tugger in companionable silence, they returned to the inn.

  Proud of his offering, Tugger bounded through the gate to drop the hare in the basket beside the kitchen door.

  Passing the stable, the smile on Lecie’s face melted as she recognized Dr. Rayburn’s horse. “Da,” she whispered.

  Clayton slipped his hand in hers as he led the way through the garden.

  Entering the kitchen, she lightly squeezed his hand for support when they spotted Betta hunched over the cook table crying.

  Her arms crossed before her sagging bosom, Gunilda eyed Clayton from her post beside the door. “Your father is dead. You are now master here.”

  “Lackwit,” Lecie swore, releasing Clayton’s hand. “How dare you inform him in such a way?”

  Shrugging her shoulders, Gunilda kept her gaze on Clayton’s stricken face. “Dead is dead. What difference does it make how he finds out?”

  “You drasty lowborn, wench.” Lecie closed the short distance to Gunilda in a breath. “Address him again and you shall be scraping out a living in the gutter.”

  Gunilda’s eyes flared in anger as she straightened to meet Lecie eye to eye. Betta’s harsh sobbing was the only sound heard in the kitchen as the two women stared each other down.

  Eventually, Gunilda backed down, afraid of what she found in the infuriated golden gaze boring into her.

  Averting her eyes, Gunilda jerked her head towards the common room. “The village leech is awaiting payment.”

  Still seething, Lecie tone was sharp. “Where are the girls?”

  “Harsent is consoling them in their chamber.”

  “Come with me, Clayton.” Sweeping past Gunilda, she snapped, “Clear out and close the tavern.”

  Lagging behind up the steps, Clayton stopped short of entering their father’s chamber. “Lecie?”

  The pleading in his voice had her dropping to her knees before him. “You do not have to go in if you do not wish to.”

  “I am now the man of the family,” he replied bravely as tears slipped down his smooth cheeks. “It is my duty.”

  “Your duty is to see to the family,” she corrected. “Osana and Sabina need you now more than Da does. Besides, he would rather have you remember him the way he was, not as he lays now.”

  “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  “No.” Lecie smiled though her tears. “It is what Da would want.”

  Throwing his arms around her, he held tight for a moment. Once he released her, he scrubbed the tears from his face with the hem of his tunic. “In that case, I shall see to our sisters.”

  “There is a brave lad.” She watched him go as she wiped the tears from her own cheeks. Inhaling a steadying breath, she opened the door to her father’s chamber.

  Dr. Rayburn stood from the edge of the bed as she entered. “I was told you would see to the charge.”

  “Who summoned you?”

  “The stable lad was sent for me.” Dr. Rayburn collected his leather satchel. “I know not who found the body.”

  “I had given him medicine earlier.” Tears fell unchecked down Lecie’s cheeks as she eyed her father’s still form on the bed. “I had so hoped it would help.”

  “Obviously, you were wrong.” Blocking her view of the bed, he held out his hand. “There are others in need of my services. I cannot tarry here all day.”

  “See Hamon for your payment,” Lecie replied in a numb voice.

  “Very well,” he agreed. “I shall record the death in the village registry.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled. Sweeping past the physician, she sank down on her knees beside the bed. Reaching out to clasp her father’s cold hand, she broke down sobbing.

  * * *

  Returning to the tower, Talan noticed a group of solemn villagers streaming from the inn. He slowed his horse to a walk as he moved past.

  A portly man in a stained brown tunic jerked his thumb towards the inn as he approached. “Tavern’s closed until further notice.”

  Talan glanced at the upper floor with a heavy heart. “Why is that?”

  “The innkeep finally died and his daughter ordered everyone out,” the man grumbled. “Waste of good coin if you ask me.”

  “Has the village physician been summoned?”

  “Aye, he is inside with the body.”

  “Thank you.” Spurring his horse, Talan rode hard for the tower.

  For something to do, Albin was toiling alongside the workers high on the scaffolding when Talan called to him from the courtyard.


  Climbing down the wood framework against the rising stone, Albin met him at the bottom. “Edric?”

  “Aye,” Talan acknowledged. “He has passed.”

  “I should have been there.” Albin swore under his breath as he raked a filthy hand through his disheveled hair. “Lecie should not have been alone when it happened.”

  “Under the sudden change in circumstances, do you still intend to go through with the original plan?” Talan queried, taking in Albin’s soiled garments and sweaty appearance.

  “Now that things have changed, there is no time to waste,” Albin replied. “I expect Hamon to force her hand before long.”

  “He is apt to do it without a doubt,” Talan agreed. “Still…” he hesitated.

  Shielding his eyes from the mid-afternoon sun, Albin scowled up at him. “Still, what?”

  “What we accuse Hamon of planning is no less than what you yourself are about to do,” Talan replied. “In either case, Lecie’s choice in the matter is not being taken into consideration.”

  “I gave Edric my oath to take care of Lecie. That is what I intend to do.”

  “Is that all it is, Albin?”

  “Have it out already, Talan.” Albin grumbled. “What do you mean?”

  “Merely that I think your heart is more involved than you let on.” Talan allowed the shadow of a smile. “And if that is indeed the case, our liege shall be expecting you to take a knee to him in thanks.”

  “You jest at a time like this?”

  “Soon enough I do not think there will be much to jest about,” Talan admitted. “Besides, Mylla and I have a wager.”

  “What kind of wager?”

  “Mylla believes you are too loyal to choose love over duty. She does not believe you would ever leave the service of our liege to settle for the life of an innkeep.”

  “And you?” Albin’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What is your wager?”

  “As I am of the belief your heart has been well and truly spoken for by Lecie.” Talan failed at concealing his grin. “I wagered by harvest next you shall be brewing your own ale.”

 

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