The Chosen

by K. J. Nessly

  Their hostess appraised him with practiced eyes. “You are not the first this evening to be caught by the storm,” she told him. “Four other groups have also sought shelter here tonight.”

  “It is not a good night to be traveling,” David replied. He bowed again and introduced himself, “I am Sir Darian, and my companions are Lady Jenevieve,” Jenna curtsied as he introduced her, “and Lady—

  Kathryn interrupted him before he could finish. “Caterina,” she said a little stiffly. “Lady Caterina.”

  David forced his surprise to remain hidden. He’d never heard the name before and wondered where Kathryn had come up with it. And why she was introducing herself with it? Could she know their hosts? Their reaction seemed to disagree with that idea.

  Their hostess raised her one of her eyebrows in incredulity and suspicion. “Caterina? What a…unique name.”

  Kathryn nodded graciously in acknowledgement.

  Their host spoke up before his wife could, no doubt, make another degrading remark about the uniqueness of Lady Caterina’s name. “We are Lord and Lady Blackwood,” he said regally. “Welcome to Blackwood Manor.”

  David bowed again, only this time it was to hide his surprise and not out of gratefulness. Blackwood Manor. His memory immediately swept back to that first afternoon at the capitol, where Kathryn had gone pale, terror in her eyes, at the very mention of the name. Her fear of this place had been palatable then, and yet despite it she’d brought them here for safety when they’d needed it most. He had a feeling he was going to owe her a massive debt.

  Their host and hostess swept them out of the room and down a long hall. “I am afraid that Lady Blackwood and I have already supped,” their host said apologetically. “But we can have a light supper sent to your rooms so that you can rest.”

  David nodded. “My companions and I would appreciate such a gesture.”

  The Blackwoods departed, leaving the servants to guide their guests to their rooms. David took careful note of where his second-in-command’s room was located before retiring to his own.

  Kathryn sagged against the heavy door as it closed. Her stomach was still roiling from when she had introduced herself to Lady Blackwood. Oh why hadn’t she picked a different name! Why had she given them her name? It had been first time she’d ever spoken her name aloud and she’d given it to the Blackwoods as if it meant nothing. Her name had been the most precious thing she’d ever been given and she’d thrown it away like soiled laundry.

  She let her gaze wander the room and felt her spirit sink even lower. A soft cry, barely audible over the storm, sounded outside her door. Destiny flew through the instant the crack between the door and the frame was wide enough. As David and Jenna had followed Lord and Lady Blackwood out of the hall, she had given Destiny a silent command; follow, quietly. Now she was just grateful for the comfort of the bird’s presence.

  She remembered this room with cruel accuracy. Eight-years-old and she had been forced to scrub the stone floor with a rag and a bucket of clear liquid that had smelled awful and stung her hands. The stones had shredded her skin and the cleaning liquid had only served to inflame her wounds. After a few radians her knees suffered the same fate as her hands, yet the Lady of Blackwood Manor had no pity for her slave. She could still hear Lady Blackwood screeching, “You call this clean? This isn’t fit for pigs you wretched child! Clean it again!”

  She could still feel the echoes of the burning sensation as she gingerly put her hands back into the bucket to retrieve the rag, could still feel the aches of her cramping muscles and sore shoulders. Her knees hurt the worst, raw and bleeding, she was forced to kneel on them all day to clean the floor, not once, not twice, but three times until Lady Blackwood was satisfied.

  Afterwards she remembered trying to escape to the forest, desperate for peace, if not from the pain, then from Lady Blackwood’s demands. She remembered Claude catching her hiding underneath his table as he listened to Lady Blackwood instruct him on what sort of crème she wanted used in the pudding for that night’s evening meal. After Lady Blackwood had left he had picked her up and carried her into his small hut above his bakery.

  While she was inside his small home, Kathryn had experienced the first tender care in her life. Gently Claude had washed her bleeding hands and knees, apologizing for every wince and small cry she had let escape. He had given her cold, fresh, water to drink and warm broth to sip. Carefully he had smoothed soothing salve over her raw wounds and tenderly bound them with clean bandages. Once he had tended to her outside wounds, he had pulled her into his arms and told her it was okay to cry. She had, slowly at first, but eventually reaching a point where she had had trouble breathing she had been crying so hard. He had simply held her, not saying anything, just held her and let her cry. Aside from the episode with Natalie, it was the only time Kathryn could remember crying after arriving at the manor.

  After she had sipped enough broth to satisfy him, he had given her a berry tart and told her to get some sleep. At first Kathryn had been too afraid to sleep, but Claude had assured her, “I’ll take care of Lady Blackwood, little one. You need to sleep.”

  She had slept a few peaceful radians and Claude had kept his promise. Lady Blackwood never asked about the bandages nor did she punish Kathryn for disappearing. Kathryn had never asked how Claude had done it, she was simply grateful.

  Now she stood and walked over to the window where rivers of rainwater were being propelled across the glass at breakneck speed by the furious wind.

  Memory after memory hit her and it was like taking a blow to the midsection from an opponent ten times as big as her.

  “Empty the tub as soon as you’ve finished helping me dress,” Lady Blackwood ordered as she stepped out of the tub into the robe Kathryn held out for her. “And I want you to shine it until it gleams.”

  Dutifully Kathryn helped her mistress into a beautiful gown and helped arrange her hair into a style that was popular with the court ladies.

  “That’s enough,” Lady Blackwood waved her away. “Now empty the bathwater.”

  Kathryn backed away and turned back to face the huge copper tub filled with soapy water. She frowned at it and the enormous task before her. It took five servants five trips each to fill the tub, and they were carrying huge buckets of steaming water. At best she could manage a tenth of the load each could carry. If only the tub could empty itself. She glanced at the window above the tub and sighed inwardly. Life would be so much easier if the water would simply climb its way out of the tub and out the window. She wished it would.

  A ripple formed in the tub and she backed away in fright as the water began to build upon itself and reach, inexplicably, towards the window. After a few seconds it dropped back into the tub and the water lay still. Hesitantly, Kathryn moved towards the tub. The water remained calm.

  How had the water done that?

  NO! Kathryn forced herself out of the memory. She was not going to relive it! It was the day she had discovered her power.

  It was the day her life had ended.

  A knock at the door startled her and she frowned in its direction. Who could possibly be knocking on her door? Neither Blackwood had recognized her, of that she was certain. There was no way in the kingdom that Claude could know she’d returned. Her frown deepened. It was probably David…which meant that he’d keep knocking if she didn’t answer. Sighing she moved to the door and opened it.

  To her surprise it wasn’t David, but a servant bearing a tray. “Lord and Lady Blackwood send with their compliments,” the servant told her. Kathryn sincerely doubted that, but she allowed the servant in and waited patiently while the older, sad faced woman placed it on a small table near the very window where she had been standing. “Will that be all?” The servant asked woodenly, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

  “That will be all,” Kathryn assured her. “You are dismissed.” The servant hurried out of the room and left Kathryn alone. She crossed to the tray and cautiously lifted the li
d, half expecting it to explode. It didn’t and a tureen of soup and a small loaf of bread were revealed beneath. Immediately she flashed back to that first night back at Jasmine’s and the soup and bread dinner she had eaten. She slammed the lid back onto the tray.

  “Enough!” she told herself. Pull yourself together! You can handle this…it’s just another mission.

  But it wasn’t. This was her personal hell and she was about to relive every moment of it. Her nightmares, the ones she had dealt with every night of her life, came to the surface in full force. She tried to stop them, but she was just as powerless against them as she had been against the Blackwoods nearly seven ago, and they just kept coming. Memory after memory hit her in wave after wave, pounding her into a mindless oblivion.

  The memory of her first beating at Lady Blackwood’s hand, the memory of the terror she had felt when they told her lies about her power, the memory of being invisible, being unwanted, until someone had a craving or needed something. By the time Kathryn had revisited the worst memories she felt like she had run for days, her mind and spirit exhausted as well as her body. Flashes of memories sped by, just bits and pieces all jumbled together, and she began to feel dizzy and nauseous.

  She blearily recognized that at some point she’d collapsed onto the cold floor, her legs unable to hold her up. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, making her eyesight as blurry as her mind.

  Destiny stood next to her, a sympathetic look in her eyes. Kathryn reached out a trembling hand and stroked the bird. “You were the only good thing that happened to me here,” she whispered.

  Kathryn forced herself to stand, on shockingly wobbly legs, and braced herself on the stone window sill for support. She had no idea how much time had passed…radians? Minutes? She felt more exhausted than she could ever remember. Stripping off her dress she threw herself onto the bed and prayed that she’d simply fall asleep, that her dreams would leave her alone for just one night.

  She should have known better.

  The dreams woke her continuously throughout the night, usually jerking her awake in a cold sweat. Her nightmares hadn’t been this bad since…she couldn’t remember a time they had been this bad.

  By the time she heard other doors begin to open, a sure sign that the rest of the manor was starting to wake up, she felt like she hadn’t gotten any sleep and that she’d spent the entire night running at full speed from a pack of hungry predators. A knock at the door forced her to get up off the bed.

  Another servant stood in the doorway. “Breakfast will be in half an radian,” she said dully.

  There was no way Kathryn would make it through breakfast, not in her present emotional and physical state. “Please inform Lord and Lady Blackwood that I will be unable to attend breakfast as I find myself unwell this morning.” She hoped it sounded like something a pampered Lady would say…and that it wouldn’t send any of the Dragons racing to her door to confront her.

  The servant finally seemed to take note of Kathryn’s haggard appearance. “I will inform my Lady,” she said in a gentler tone. “Perhaps I could send some servants later to draw you a hot bath?”

  Kathryn had been prepared to politely decline anything the servant had offered, but the thought of a hot soak suddenly appealed to her and she nodded. “I appreciate your consideration.”

  The servant curtsied and moved on to the next door. Kathryn shut the door before she discovered whose room it was. She fell back onto one of the sofas in the room and considered the day ahead. The storm was still raging in full force outside which meant that no one would leave this afternoon or evening. That meant that she had to endure at least another twenty-six radians in the vicinity of Lord and Lady Blackwood. She was determined to find herself in their presence as little as possible.

  Sometime later another knock on her door sounded. Too weary to attempt to reason out who it could be she simply opened the door. She was pleasantly surprised to find servants bearing hot water standing in the hallway. Quickly she opened the door and let them in. Her tub wasn’t as big as Lady Blackwood’s, so it only took three trips instead of five to fill it, but it was enough. She let the soothing presence of water envelop her every sense, blocking out every other thought. Pushing everything else from her mind she focused solely on the water surrounding her in an attempt to give her tortured mind a rest from the memories.

  It worked until the water cooled and the chill brought her back to reality. Briefly she considered reheating the water herself but quickly realized that such an action would only arouse the suspicion of the servants, especially if she remained in the water for over a radian after it would have normally cooled.

  Sighing she removed herself from the tub and wrapped herself in a robe. A maidservant was waiting in the bedchamber and Kathryn allowed her to comb out and arrange her hair. As her hair was arranged the tub was emptied and soon Kathryn was left alone again. Judging by how much time had passed she guessed that breakfast was almost over and she left her room to avoid running into any of the Dragons. She knew every nook and cranny of this manor and she intended to use that knowledge to hide.

  Knowing that David would search every room in the manor for her she decided not to remain in the manor. Instead she wrapped herself in her now dry cloak and, after a quick stop at the library, headed for the stables. Outside, the wind and rain still battered the countryside and Kathryn was sure that when she returned to her room, she’d probably request that the fire be lit. The stables were cold, but not unpleasantly so, and leaning against Lerina’s warm body more than made up for the damp chill.

  She brought out the book she had chosen from the library and started to read. The words gave her weary mind something to focus on besides the back-flashes and she found herself feeling a modicum of peace. Halfway through, her instincts alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Glancing up she saw David leaning against the stall door. Scowling at him she asked, “How long have you been there?”

  “You weren’t at breakfast.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “That doesn’t answer mine.”

  She deepened her scowl. He held her gaze. However she was much more practiced in the art of patience than he was. He backed down first.

  Shrugging he said, “Not long. Now why weren’t you at breakfast?”

  “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Strange considering how long we rode against the storm,” he commented casually.

  “Perhaps for pampered nobility,” she returned hotly. “I’m accustomed to eating less.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. She ignored him and stroked Lerina who was starting to sense the tension in Kathryn’s body.

  “Is it any good?”

  His question confused her. “Is what any good?”

  David nodded to the book in her lap. “You were so focused on the story that you didn’t even hear me approach. I can only assume that it’s a good book.”

  She glanced half-heartedly at the scroll. It really wasn’t that great of a book, just a distraction really. “It’s okay, it takes my mind off the…situation.”

  “Funny, I see a warm bed, hot food, and a strong shelter to reside in during one of the worst storms I’ve ever seen, a stroke of luck not a situation.”

  She had to tramp down the urge to blast him with a wall of water. Mockery was not something she tolerated, especially from him. “I just want to be home,” she finally said.

  Lerina snorted softly, blowing spittle and bits of hay across Kathryn’s shoulder. A small grin tweaked the corner of her mouth and she gave the horse an affectionate pat.

  He pushed himself off the door and came into the stall. “The maid who did your hair is going to be furious,” he chuckled.

  “Why?”

  “Because you are covered in hay,” he reached out to brush some hay off of her cloak, but truncated the motion when she flinched reflexively. His eyes hardened. “It happened here, didn’t it?” He asked.

  She sent him a confused lo
ok, “Did what happen here?”

  “The abuse, it happened here.”

  She stiffened. “We are not talking about that. I think I’ve made that perfectly clear before.”

  “Yes, but that was before we arrived here. I can see it in your eyes, Kath—Caterina. It happened here. If you were given the option, you would ride straight out into that storm and never come back, wouldn’t you?”

  “You know nothing.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, “If you’re so adamant about it, then why don’t you come back inside?”

  The idea chilled her and unfortunately he somehow noticed. He sat down next to her. “What happened?”

  “We aren’t discussing it,” she told him coldly.

  “You need to.”

  “I don’t want to, nor do I need to.”

  “You can’t go through life alone.”

  “With the…rest of you guys around, I’ll never be alone.”

  He sighed. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He stood and brushed off the hay off of his clothing. “Come back inside. Please,” he added, “Amy’s worried to death but she can’t come looking for you herself. Let her see you and know that you’re still alive.”

  For Amy she would. She reluctantly got up and followed him back into the manor.

  Chapter 29

  Before they entered the manor, Kathryn took the time to pick out all the bits of straw from her hair. David inspected it and nodded his approval. “It looks alright.”

  She returned the book she had borrowed to the library, picked out a new one, and made her way back to her room. Soon after her arrival a servant appeared bearing a tray. Savory scents wafted from the tray and Kathryn realized that, after going without dinner last night and skipping breakfast this morning, she was hungry.

  Lunch consisted of a small roasted field bird, with two sauces for dipping, fresh bread, and an assortment of seasonal fruits. It was, admittedly, delicious. She kept away from the wine that had been sent with the fare and tossed the glass’s contents out of the window and into the storm.