by Speer, Flora
“I told you to call me Garit,” he said, knowing he sounded irritated. Which he was. “Garit,” she repeated obediently, “I have no idea what you are talking about. Perhaps you ought to explain yourself.”
“Explain? You’re the one who owes me an explanation!” He paused to calm himself before he spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth when I asked you earlier?”
“Asked me what?” She sounded as annoyed as Garit felt. She stopped wringing her hands, instead clenching them so tightly together that her knuckles were white.
“About my grandmother’s health,” he said between his teeth. “You declared that she is well. Yet, she has set you to show me all the land belonging to Saumar and she’s determined that I must learn every detail written in those cursed ledgers, and now she apparently wants me to make an inventory of the house and the stables and all of the other outbuildings. Clearly, she doesn’t expect to live much longer and she’s preparing me to take over this estate. I realize she may have warned you not to tell me, lest I begin to coddle her. I’m sure she’d hate that. But I need to know.”
“Garit,” Calia began, but he wouldn’t let her finish whatever she wanted to say. He couldn’t allow her to pretend any longer.
“Is her condition painful?” he demanded. “If so, perhaps we can procure some poppy syrup for her. I’ll not have her suffer. Tomorrow, I’ll swear to her not to leave here so long as she lives. Only, please, tell me the truth. Is it a growth somewhere in her body? An encroaching female problem? Is her heart weakening?”
“Oh, Garit, stop, I beg you!” She began to laugh wildly and then to cry. Garit, stricken to his very heart at the thought of losing his grandmother and feeling guilty for having neglected her, watched in growing horror. Calia bent over to put her head between her hands, remaining in that position for so long that his fear increased until he could not bear it.
“Calia?” He caught her by the shoulders, lifting her so she had to look at him. When he saw her face wet with tears for a second time that day he did not pause to think, he just pulled her closer so that she rested against his shoulder. He put his arms around her and held her until she quieted. After a time he felt her arms slide around his back. That gentle pressure was oddly comforting. He no longer doubted that she loved Lady Elgida. But he had to know the full truth.
“I wish you would tell me everything,” he said.
“Oh, dear.”
She drew away a little, but not very far, for his arms were still holding her, and her hands clutched gently at his back. Garit rested his forehead on hers, so close that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. After a few heartbeats she lifted her head until he could see her soft, moist lips that were slightly parted as if she wanted to say something. Garit’s arms tightened. For one sweet moment her bosom was crushed against his chest and his mouth was almost on hers. But not, quite, on hers. He longed to take what he thought she was offering, yet he could not.
Then she withdrew, her hands pressing on his upper arms. He let her go at once and she sat back on the bench, regarding him with an unreadable expression.
“Nothing is wrong with Lady Elgida’s health,” she said, slowly and clearly. “I swear to you, she is as healthy as any woman five years past her sixtieth birthday can possibly be.”
“If she’s well, then why were you weeping?” he demanded.
“I wasn’t weeping, not really. I began to laugh because you were so completely mistaken about the problem. You had it all wrong and I laughed until I cried. Women sometimes do that, you know.”
“I was mistaken. You laughed,” he repeated, certain that something more lay behind her glib excuses. Every sense he possessed warned him that the something, whatever it should prove to be, was very serious, indeed.
“Women can be cruel,” she said.
“Not you.”
“But you don’t know me, do you? We’ve only just met.”
“I do not believe you would be cruel or uncaring about anything to do with my grandmother.”
“Well, you are right in that. I’ve told you before that I love her as if she were my mother. I do apologize for upsetting you, Garit. Please excuse me now.” She rose, not looking at him, ignoring his outstretched hand. “I have a few last chores to see to, and then I am for bed.”
She kept her back to him all the way across the hall until she disappeared though the kitchen door. Garit knew she never turned to look at him, because he did not take his gaze from her. When she was gone he still sat on the bench next to the fire, dazed by what had just happened between them.
What, exactly, that was, he wasn’t sure. He only knew that she had felt wonderfully soft and feminine in his arms. He could still feel the imprint of her body against his, and he could detect a faint scent of lilies where she had been. He’d almost kissed her, had wanted to kiss her.
With a groan, he rose and snatched up the poker, to jab it against the last whole log until the smoking, smoldering wood broke apart and crumbled into glowing embers. He almost wished someone would come along and offer to whack the poker over his head a few times to clear his befuddled wits.
How could he embrace a woman, especially a woman he barely knew, and experience tender thoughts toward her? He loved Chantal, would always love Chantal, and no other woman. But Chantal was gone forever, and his body was still young, still lusty. He ached for the love he’d never fully enjoyed, for he and Chantal had denied themselves, waiting until they could be married.
He wanted to weep and rage over his loss, to tear the hall apart and break a few heavy objects. Instead, he flung the poker down on the hearth and stalked out the main door. In the darkness he made his way to the stable, where he saddled his horse, mounted, and rode over muddy, probably dangerously slippery paths until he and the animal were exhausted.
He did notice as he made his way back to the stable through a misty, grey dawn that he hadn’t taken complete leave of his wits. Even in his frustrated fury, he’d been careful not to trample the fields where Lady Elgida’s new crops were growing.
Yet, when he finally lay in his bed, physically worn out by his exertions, he could still feel the imprint of Calia’s body against his and he smelled once again the fragrance of lilies.
Calia led Garit on a tour of the manor house and the other buildings, as Lady Elgida had directed. They began late, because Garit came to the hall much later than she had expected. She said nothing about his tardiness, not wanting to stir up any trouble with him. She was having enough difficulty maintaining her composure after the incident the previous evening. She knew she’d been overwrought and when he’d started questioning her, clearly thinking Lady Elgida was about to take to her deathbed, she couldn’t hold back her emotions.
Grief and shame on her own account, love for Lady Elgida, a certain degree of worry over what the elderly woman would decide to do about Mallory, and her own unwanted, irrational attraction to Garit all combined to bring her to helpless laughter and then to the tears she had tried never to shed. Since the day when Mallory left her at Talier she’d kept her pain locked inside.
Until Garit took her into his arms. Then, for just one instant she had dared to hope he’d kiss her, before she realized that she could never allow Garit’s kiss. On the surface he was a pleasant and quiet man, yet she recognized the strength that lay within him like a burnished, sharp-edged sword that he wouldn’t hesitate to use to inflict deadly injury in a just cause.
Sooner or later Garit was going to learn whose daughter she was and once he knew, he would despise her. If she allowed him to kiss her, knowing as she did what her father had done to the woman he loved, Garit would hate her to the very end of time.
And Calia knew, after just two days’ acquaintance with him, that she could not bear Garit’s hatred. Left to herself, she’d have told him the entire truth of her life immediately. It was what she ought to have done with Lady Elgida. But, during a long and sleepless night she convinced herself that she was duty-bound to obey Lady Elgida�
�s instructions to keep silent about Mallory and about her father. She believed that she was further bound to accept whatever Lady Elgida decided must be done to keep all three of her grandchildren safe.
“I have seen a clean stable,” Garit said in late afternoon. “I’ve admired half a dozen well cared for horses, looked at a coop full of plump chickens, and inspected a barn that’s swept and ready to receive the first fruits of this season’s harvest. My grandmother’s people who work both indoors and out are cheerful, well fed, and apparently quite content. Calia, if you show me one more immaculate detail, I swear I will draw my sword and slay you where you stand.”
She had been heading toward the forester’s cottage and a discussion of the uses of fallen trees, the control of underbrush, and the benefits of allowing pigs to root among the dead leaves and old acorns. At Garit’s muttered words she halted, uncertain what to expect from him.
“I was joking,” he said, taking her arm and turning her to face him. “I don’t often make jokes, but you’ve been so serious, so obedient to my grandmother’s wishes, that I felt a compelling urge to startle you.”
“Lady Elgida claims that you were a playful boy,” she said. “However, I do not consider the threat of murder by sword-thrust amusing.”
“Calia.”
His voice was softer as he clasped her shoulders, thus preventing her from running away, which was what she wanted to do. No, what she ought to do, if only her feet would follow the commands she gave them.
“Calia, look at me. Please,” he added, almost whispering now.
She met his bright blue gaze and caught her breath at what she saw in his eyes.
“I will not harm you,” he said. “Not ever.”
“You must not touch me, or embrace me as you did last night,” she declared, trying to wrench herself out of his hands as she spoke. He did not seem to be holding her shoulders very tightly, yet she could not get free of him. “I cannot give you what men expect of unimportant women like me, not and keep my place with Lady Elgida. Aside from the fact that I love her and I won’t abuse her kindness, in a practical sense my place with her is all I have. Please, Garit, do not deprive me of my only home, or my only friend.”
Still he held her, a large hand clamped on each of her shoulders, while he looked deep into her eyes. And she, fool that she was, could not tear her own gaze from his. She ached to draw closer and rest her head on his shoulder, for she knew the comfort and peace she would find there, if only for a few moments. They would be false moments, engendered by Garit’s ignorance of her parentage and her failure to tell him the truth.
“Garit,” she whispered, summoning all her courage, “please release me. People are watching us. And people, even the kindest of people, are prone to gossip.”
“I apologize.” He stepped back and made an exaggerated, courtly bow. Then he uttered a false laugh and shook a finger at her. “If you laugh, too,” he said, too softly for the grooms or the stable boys to hear him, “anyone who sees us will imagine you have been teasing me about my ignorance of farming matters.”
“Garit, you really ought to pay more attention to the crops,” she said in a loud voice. She shook her head at him and dredged up a wavering smile, but she could not force a laugh, no matter how she tried. Calia was beginning to fear she’d never laugh again.
Chapter 5
“I have come to a decision,” Lady Elgida announced toward the end of the evening meal. “Garit, you will escort me to Kantia to visit my erstwhile daughter-in-law and to make certain that my youngest grandsons are safe and healthy.”
She spoke in a voice that was meant to be heard by all, and every person in the hall stopped eating or talking to stare at her in amazement. Some stared in dismay.
“Lady Elgida,” Calia began, horrified by the idea of the woman she considered a dear friend undertaking such a difficult trip. Not to mention what such a venture, which must certainly include a meeting with Mallory, would mean for Garit.
She longed to ask how Lady Elgida could drag him all unwilling and unsuspecting to a place where his life would be endangered. Only Lady Elgida’s order not to tell Garit whose daughter she was and whose son Mallory was kept her silent. She wasn’t at all surprised to see Garit’s unhappy expression, which he quickly concealed beneath a mildly interested look. Lady Elgida apparently hadn’t noticed Garit’s reactions, or Calia’s, either, for she continued to speak as if she hadn’t heard Calia’s attempt to interrupt.
“I want to meet this Sir Mallory, whom King Dyfrig has made guardian of Belai and Kinen,” she said. “I want to judge the man for myself.”
Lady Elgida’s stern gaze on Calia plainly admonished continued silence on the subject of Mallory, and of Calia’s relationship to him. Even so, it was all Calia could do to hold her tongue.
“Grandmother, you loathe Kantia,” Garit exclaimed. “You’ve always said so. I cannot imagine why you would concoct such a wild scheme.”
“No wildness is involved. I consider this particular visit to be my duty as a grandparent,” Lady Elgida responded. “Now, Garit, do not attempt to dissuade me by claiming that I am too old for travel. I’ll rebut your argument by citing all the elderly mages, men and women both, who undertake long pilgrimages that last for years. Spring and summer are the best seasons for a voyage, and if we set out within the next week, we can be back at Saumar in time to oversee the autumn harvest.”
“Voyage?” Garit repeated, his expression so calm, and so peculiarly bland that Calia knew he was deliberately concealing his opinion behind the mask of diplomatic self-control.
“We?” Calia gasped. “My lady, I cannot go with you. Surely, you understand why not.” It was all she dared to say while Garit was listening, and Lady Elgida’s cool look scolded her for even so minor a protest.
“Grandmother,” Garit said in a warning tone, “I have explained to you several times that I do not want Kinath Castle. I’m content for Belai to hold it when he grows up. Surely, after their years together, King Dyfrig knows Sir Mallory well and considers him a responsible guardian for Belai and Kinen, or he would not have appointed him to that post. Speaking for myself, I have no reason to pledge my fealty to King Dyfrig, and even less reason for returning to Kantia. Have you considered the possibility that the king and Sir Mallory will take offense at my sudden appearance and conclude that I mean to cause trouble over Kinath?”
Calia could see by the expression on Lady Elgida’s lined face that her mind was made up. True to her determined character, Lady Elgida was not going to be swayed by any objection, no matter how well reasoned. Indeed, her next words proved that she had thought her plans through with some thoroughness before announcing them.
“Garit, since you have nothing special to do just now you may take yourself off to Port Moren first thing tomorrow morning, and there you will hire a ship for a period of two months. I refuse to sail across the Sea of Lestrac on one of those disreputable ferries, or to be bogged down later on muddy Kantian roads or subjected to vile, flea-infested Kantian inns. I returned to Saumar from Kantia by ship, and I quite enjoyed the voyage.”
“You were twenty-five years younger then,” Garit protested.
“Choose a good sized vessel, with room enough for Calia and me, and Mairne, too, to have a bit of privacy.” Lady Elgida’s haughty expression challenged Garit to say again that she was too old to make such a trip and she continued to give orders as if her grandson hadn’t spoken. “You’ll want space aboard ship for yourself and that glowering squire of yours, for the horses, and for our baggage. We’ll take along half a dozen men-at-arms for our protection once we reach Kantia. The men who came here with you and two or three stout fellows from Saumar should do nicely. I understand a certain number of ships are for hire to carry nobles across the Sea of Lestrac. No doubt you are familiar with some of them, and with their captains, so I leave the selection of the ship to you.”
“Thank you for trusting me that much, Grandmother.”
“Watch your tone
with me, my lad. You will do as I say. Allow me to inform you right now that if I am not content with the arrangements the king of Kantia has made for my grandsons, or if I have any reason to think they may not be safe in Sir Mallory’s care, then I will expect you to petition King Dyfrig for guardianship of them, and also to request that he grant Kinath Castle to you as the eldest son of the previous lord. Whether you want the place or not is irrelevant to me. You can always turn the castle over to Belai once he’s grown to manhood. In the meantime, you have a duty to your little brothers, and a duty to me, too.
“Come along, Calia, I have instructions for you and Mairne. We must begin packing at once. I want to be gone from Saumar as soon as possible.”
“My lady,” Calia protested the moment Mairne had been sent from Lady Elgida’s bedchamber on an errand, “you cannot expect me to accompany you to Kantia.”
“Why not? You are my companion, aren’t you? A member of my household, under my rule?”
“Yes, of course I am, but Mallory will recognize me.”
“What if he does? You have nothing to hide from him. My daughter Adana sent you to me, to act as companion, and you will be at my side in Kantia, surprised and delighted to see your dear brother again. That’s all Mallory needs to know.”
“Garit is certain to learn who Mallory is. He will be angry to discover that his old home is now in Mallory’s care. Any man with a crumb of pride would be. What’s more, I know my brother; even if no one else in all of Kantia is aware of the name of Walderon of Catherstone, Mallory will take great pleasure in telling Garit just who our father was. You said you wanted Garit kept in ignorance of that dreadful truth. I thought you wanted him kept safe. How can he possibly be safe in a situation that’s fraught with such peril? And what will his reaction be when he learns that you and I have been lying to him?”
“I thought you trusted me, Calia.”
