The Reward of Anavrea

by Rachel Rossano

  Chapter Two

  “What did you say?” Liam demanded from Braxton the moment the woman left.

  Braxton shrugged. “I told her I would be listening.”

  Liam groaned. “I am trying to win her trust here, Braxton, not terrorize her into giving the keys to me. She is only doing her duty.”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “You don’t trust anyone for the first year after you meet them, Braxton. What is she going to do to us? Poison our meal?” The look on Braxton’s face said everything Liam needed to know. “She isn’t the type,” he stated firmly.

  “My lord,” one twin interrupted meekly. “Your meal is ready.”

  Liam smiled in a way he hoped looked friendly and followed her to a place at the table. As he sat down the other girl placed a plate before him. His stomach turned. Clearly the best they could offer, the wooden trencher contained a meager portion of vegetables, stringy meat, and a hunk of cheese. Glancing at the children’s servings, he realized even less lay on their plates. He met Braxton and Jaren’s concerned gazes.

  These children were starving. Just then, he realized that all the others seated at the table waited for him to start. Taking up the bent eating knife from beside the plate, he cut himself a bite and ate it. Instantly the children became fully focused on the food.

  After a few bites, Liam gave up trying to eat. He didn’t want to eat food that the children needed. “What happened to your parents?”

  “We don’t have any,” one of the girls answered.

  “Rowana!” the blond boy exclaimed.

  Rowana immediately lowered her gaze. Her sister spoke instead. “My name is Ryana, and we had parents, but they are dead now.”

  “Don’t tell him anything,” the blond boy ordered.

  “What is your name?” Liam asked the boy.

  “Oran,” he answered with a glare. “I don’t believe you are who you say you are.”

  “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am.” Liam set down the eating knife. “Urith, do you believe me?”

  Urith glanced up from his systematic devouring of dinner long enough to say, “Yes.”

  “I think you are one of Lord Klian’s men sent to cheat Jayne out of the keys,” Oran accused.

  The woman’s name was Jayne. Liam repeated the information to himself to set it firmly in his memory.

  “He isn’t from Lord Klian,” Rowana said quickly. “If he was, he wouldn’t have asked nicely. He would have demanded and taken Jayne to his vargar and locked her up there.”

  “That just shows how much you don’t understand.” Oran pushed back his chair with a hard shove.

  “She has a point, Oran.” Jayne’s voice broke in calmly. Liam looked across the room to where she stood at the bottom of the stair to the loft. She met his gaze briefly before turning her attention to the children. “Oran, are you finished?” she asked as she crossed to the table.

  Liam, realizing there were no vacant places at the table, rose from his seat. Braxton and Jaren followed his lead.

  She paused, as though suddenly uncertain. Liam wished he could shrink his height, anything to seem less threatening. The room was full of fear directed toward him and his men.

  “May I be excused?” Urith asked. A chorus of the same followed. The children fled up the stairs to the loft.

  “I have brought you the keys.” She drew them from the pocket of her apron, a large set of worn keys of many sizes. She clutched them, hesitating as if still deciding whether or not to give them to him.

  “Urith explained to me why the Vargar is locked up and the keys hidden, but he refused to shed any light on why you are the keeper.”

  “I was in charge of keeping the household before Lord Alain died.” Holding out the keys to him, she said, “Take them and tell no one where you found them.”

  As his fingers closed around hers, she withdrew her hand so quickly he almost dropped the keys. “Why–” he began to ask, but she had already stepped away, holding her hand as if she had been burned. The glimpse he caught of her face stopped the words in his mouth. Someone had hurt this girl badly in the past. The fear in her blue eyes tore his heart.

  “Please go.” Her voice was steady. “It is late and you must travel back.”

  Liam nodded and signaled for Jaren and Braxton to leave. “I am grateful for your help. Thank you, Jayne.” He bowed and followed his men out. The door shook loosely on its leather hinges as he closed it.

  ~~~~~~

  Jayne was up to her wrists in the last batch of bread dough the next morning. Rowana and Ryana argued about something Urith had said. Jayne tried to ignore them. Their volume rose just enough to wake Trina, napping of her sleepless night upstairs, when the sound of horses coming into the yard caught all of their attention. Both girls ran to the open windows.

  “It is those men from last night,” Ryana announced.

  “The nice man isn’t with them though.” Rowana grimaced.

  “What nice man?” Jayne carefully extracted her hands from the dough. There was little enough already; she wanted to conserve every bit for the finished loaf.

  “The one who told the angry man to let you take Trina to bed.” Rowana never turned from the window.

  “Lord Tremain, you mean,” Jayne clarified as she wiped her hands on her apron and glanced around the sparsely furnished room. There wasn’t much for her to straighten.

  “You thought he was nice?” Ryana asked her sister in surprise. “He took Jayne’s birthright and now we are poor and hungry all the time.”

  Jayne turned to caution the child to cease her prattling lest the new arrivals overhear and ask questions.

  “Good morrow, Mistress Jayne.” A deep male voice interrupted the sisterly discussion. The speaker filled the doorway, blocking the sunlight.

  “Good morrow, sir...” Jayne was forced to let her voice trail off. Lord Tremain had referred to him as Braxton, but that did not mean she could do likewise.

  “Call me Braxton. I have come with a message from Lord Tremain. He wishes to inquire if you would be willing to move back into the vargar and resume your old position. He is new to landownership and needs someone who knows the work necessary to keep the vargar functioning while he deals with other issues.”

  Jayne found herself thinking of the meager meals they had been eating lately and the nightly worries of securing the house and barn. The fact the well ran dry periodically, and they had no stores for winter also lingered in the back of her mind. Alone, she would gladly endure the coming winter just to avoid entering those walls again, but she wasn’t by herself. She hadn’t been alone since that night seventeen winters ago when Oran filled his lungs with the first breath of life and squalled fiercely. That night she became more than one, but two. She had to think of the children and what would happen to them if she refused this offer.

  A small hand took hold of hers. Jayne looked down to meet Rowana’s dark eyes. “Jayne?” she asked.

  “Tell Lord Tremain that I accept.” Jayne raised her eyes to meet Braxton’s.

  “When can I tell him you will arrive?” He studied her intently. “He needs the help now, tonight, if possible. I have brought horses and men to pack and load. If you are agreeable, we can have all of you settled in the vargar by nightfall.”

  She panicked, but managed to keep it from her face. She hoped.

  Braxton repeated himself firmly, destroying her hope. “He wishes you in the vargar tonight.”

  “Very well.” Jayne took a deep breath. “Rowana, fetch Urith and Oran, they need to come and help with the packing. Ryana, begin with the bedding, but try not to wake Trina. The longer she sleeps the better.”

  The girls ran off to obey. Braxton stepped outside to give orders to his men and Jayne finished preparing the bread for the oven. These men were going to need food before the work was done. She didn’t have much to offer them.

  Even as she formed and scored the loaf, a nagging worry lingered at the back of her thoughts. What if Lord Tremain
became just like Lord Alain once he realized his power over all of them? What was she going to do then? Have I made the right decision? She asked Kurios.

  ~~~~~~

  “She came,” Jaren announced as Liam entered the hall.

  Liam replied with a groan.

  “I thought you wanted her to come,” Jaren pointed out.

  “Yes, I wanted her to come.” Liam sighed as he collapsed onto the nearest chair. “I just ache.” He leaned his head back against the carved wood and closed his eyes. “This brings back memories of my first months in the army.”

  “Haven’t you kept up your training?” Jaren had spent the day in the forest hunting for their dinner.

  “I have, but apparently swinging a sickle uses different muscles than swinging a sword.” He paused to breathe deeply. “So, did Braxton mention having any trouble?”

  “I don’t know, but you can ask him yourself. Here he comes now.”

  Liam raised his head in time to see Braxton enter the hall with two other men in his wake. Liam’s muscles protested at the slight movement, but he ignored them. “What is your report? Did she give you much trouble?”

  “No, my lord.” Braxton set his foot on the nearby bench and leaned on his knee. “She listened to the offer, considered it a moment, and accepted. It wasn’t until later she seemed reluctant, but she came without a fuss.

  “The boy, Oran, on the other hand–” Braxton frowned. “I have never seen a moodier fellow. Short of openly disagreeing with Jayne’s decision, he protested every part of the move. I don’t see what is stopping him, but he seems reluctant to buck her authority. My lord, if you don’t mind me saying so, more is going on with those children than meets the eye.”

  “I know.” Liam leaned forward to stretch the muscles in his back. “Jayne is obviously not their mother, but yet they obey her and treat her as such.”

  “Also.” Braxton leaned forward and dropped his voice. “I happened to overhear the twins discussing something about you taking their birthright and that being the reason they are ‘poor and hungry.’ I think we need to look into this more.”

  “I agree.” Liam leaned back again and closed his eyes. “But how? The more I learn about Lord Alain the more I am glad I never met the man. I would not be surprised if he has wronged these children in a terrible way, but I cannot see how. He had no legitimate heir, and he had no siblings, hence no nieces or nephews, so how are they being cheated out of a title?”

  “Uh, my lord.” Jaren cleared his throat carefully. “It is possible that they are his illegitimate offspring.”

  Liam felt his jaw go slack with disbelief. Slowly he leaned his chin on his fist and tried to fit the possibility into the puzzle.

  “Surely not all of them,” Braxton said. “I thought of that too, but they couldn’t possibly all be of the same one, or even two mistresses.”

  “Dinner is ready to be served, my lord,” a female voice announced clearly.

  Liam jumped guiltily and turned to find Jayne standing at the entrance to the kitchens. How long she had been standing there and how much she had overheard, he couldn’t guess. His chest constricted at the thought of her hearing their conversation, especially if their hypotheses were false. He rose, sighing inwardly at his lack of thought.

  “Thank you.” He turned to Braxton. “Call the men in to dinner. They are most likely famished after today’s harvesting.” Braxton disappeared out into the yard.

  Glancing to see that Jayne had also exited, Liam grabbed Jaren’s arm as he passed. “Tomorrow, spend time among the villagers. Find out everything that has happened in this area for the last twenty years. Something is very wrong.”

  Jaren nodded and sat down at the long table. Liam took his place also, at the head of the table. His stomach clenched, and he doubted he was going to manage to eat much, but he had to at least sit through the meal for his men.

  The table filled quickly with hungry novice farmers. It had been a hard day for all of them, but a successful one. According to the village leader, newly appointed in the absence of the old one, they were going to be able to make up for the time lost. Liam had found the villagers’ reaction to his men’s assistance even more rewarding.

  The boys, who had been laboring daily in a vain effort to save the crop, welcomed the fifty soldiers with kindness and patience, a heaping measure of patience. Most of the soldiers, including Liam, had never done any fieldwork in their entire life. A few grew up on farms and remembered the work they left home to forget, but the majority couldn’t discern wheat from wild grass gone to seed.

  The meal turned into a rowdy one. Stories and good-natured teasing passed with the food. The stew, made of venison and fresh vegetables, filled their bellies and made them sleepy. Even though he ate less than most of them, Liam also found his head feeling heavy and thoughts of sleep teasing his mind. It had been a long day. Rising, he dismissed the men and turned to make his way to his bedchamber in the upper reaches of the vargar. He took one of the candles that sat by the fire, started toward the back stairs.

  But even as he pursued sleep, unease rested in his mind. Something felt wrong.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning dawned bright and clear. By the time the men assigned to harvesting started the walk to the village, Liam realized he would not be content waiting for Jaren to find out what mystery lay beneath the surface of friendly village life. A short ways ahead of him, Oran walked with some of the young men Braxton hired to help at the Vargar.

  “Oran, I wish to speak with you,” he called out.

  Oran glanced back over his shoulder with an expression of mild annoyance. He said something to the boy next to him and then dropped back and fell into step with Liam.

  “My lord,” he said as he approached.

  “Braxton mentioned that you were not happy with Jayne’s decision to move back to the vargar. I would like to understand why.”

  Oran stopped suddenly and studied Liam’s face. After a moment, when the others had walked by, he spoke. “I don’t see how it is in your province to discuss it.”

  “Braxton also mentioned that he overheard one of the twins saying that I stole your birthright from you. I believe that makes it my business.”

  “Not my birthright.” Oran corrected him. “Jayne’s birthright.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments. Liam gave the boy time to decide what to say. Just as Liam was considering how to prod the issue, Oran spoke again.

  “I don’t know much,” he confessed. “But I do pick up more than the younger ones, except possibly Urith. He has a talent for collecting facts.”

  He eyed Liam. “All of us have the same father, Lord Alain. The twins and the baby don’t understand it, and Jayne has made it clear we are not to tell them. Jayne never talks about it. I don’t believe any of us ever asked, but she took us in when our mothers didn’t want us any more or died. I have wondered what really happened, but one thing I do know is that Jayne and Trina are legitimate. He married their mothers.”

  “How did you learn about it?”

  “I remember when Trina was born and I remember her mother. I found out about Jayne when the marriage contract was signed a year ago.”

  “What marriage contract?” Liam glanced at the boy in concern.

  Oran returned his look with surprise. “You mean you don’t know? Jayne hasn’t told you?”

  “We haven’t spoken since the night she gave me the keys to Ashwyn. What does she have to do with a marriage contract?”

  “It is for the marriage between her and Lord Klian.”

  That was not what he had expected. Liam’s stomach tightened. “She is married to Klian?”

  “No,” Oran said forcefully. “The contract was signed about a year before Lord Alain’s final illness. It gives Klian control of Ashwyn and all Lord Alain’s assets if he is married to Jayne upon Alain’s death. I can’t see why, but the marriage never happened. That is why she took all of us to the cottage, to avoid Klian. I believe it is a
lso the reason she moved us back into the vargar when you sent for us, but you will have to ask her yourself.”

  “I will,” Liam assured him. “It appears I am going to have to speak with her about many things. So, how do the other boys in the village handle the fact your parents were not married?” He waved a hand toward the group of boys walking in front of them. The lads matched Liam and Oran’s pace with the obvious intent of waiting for Oran.

  The boy shrugged. “It is old news. Jayne delivered half of them. Out of respect for her, they have treated us the same as the rest of the villagers.”

  The young men jostled each other as everyone approached the supply barn where they were all to receive their assignments for the day. Urith said something and laughter rippled through the group. One of the boys replied and playfully jabbed his neighbor in the arm. More laughter followed.

  “Is there anything else, my lord?” Oran asked.

  Liam almost said no, but stopped himself. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  Oran’s eyes widened slightly at the offer of answers. Liam hoped he realized the intent. Liam wanted to approach the boy as if they were equals not lord and underling. “Not at the moment, my lord.”

  “Very well.” Liam smiled. “If you have any concerns that come to mind later, talk to me. You and your family are now my responsibility.”

  Oran nodded his understanding and glanced toward the group ahead of them.

  “Go on and join them,” Liam told him as they motioned for him to join them. “They are waiting for you.”

  Eagerly, Oran obeyed.

  Liam found himself frowning despite Oran’s warm reception. This marriage contract was a complication he hadn’t anticipated. If Lord Klian found out that Jayne was within the vargar, he might show up during the hours Liam and most of his men were gone. Then taking Jayne, and possibly Trina, he could force her into marriage and make a legal claim for the title.

  The thought of Jayne having to marry a tyrant like Klian made Liam’s stomach clench. His parents had married his sister off that way. At the time, he could do nothing to help, being only fifteen. Within a year, she had died. The official word was complications from childbirth, but Liam had seen the scars and bruises days before when he visited her unexpectedly. He had been helpless to do anything then, but now he was the lord of the vargar. He possessed the power to do something if he acted quickly enough.