by Lisa Shea
He was engaged to another woman.
Lucia’s heart shadowed with pain, and she found herself unable to draw her eyes away from him. He held her gaze for a moment, then turned to look at the woman by his side.
Anastasia jumped blithely into the opening. “Greetings!” she called, moving forward to clasp Lucia gently. “Call me Anna for short,” giggled the woman. “I am very happy to meet you at last! The whole palace has been buzzing with the news! I have been dying to talk with you since Ian first brought you in, but of course you were not feeling well, and Stephen said you were badly poisoned by the Grays. He is good with these things, and has been taking fine care of you. There is no one more patient than Stephen when it comes to nursing someone through that kind of thing, Matthew has always said as much. I have done my part, praying for you in the chapel.”
Anna barely took in a breath as she exuberantly threw her arms wide. “I am so glad you are better now! I have been talking to all the court members about where you might be from and how you got here ...” Anna merrily prattled on as she put her arms around Lucia in welcome.
A memory flickered in Lucia’s mind. Anna had been at the center of one of the groups of courtiers she had passed.
“I am the youngest daughter of one of the local nobles,” Anna continued blithely, “and I was sent here for some courtly education. This keep is just such a pretty place to learn! And there is so much to know about before one is married.” She smiled over at Stephen. “But I am really here for Stephen,” she continued, wrapping her arm around his waist. He patted her hand automatically, but his eyes were now on Lucia’s, and there was a distance in them. Anna bubbled onward. “Is he not so handsome?”
“It is very nice to meet you, Anna.” stated Lucia absently, while her mind rolled over the question with a bit of surprise. Handsome? When she thought of Stephen, it was his eyes that caught her in their power. Eyes that she could trust to be there when her strength gave way, eyes to watch over her at night when the nightmares overtook her.
Lucia glanced involuntarily up at Stephen and found that he was looking at her still. Yes, certainly he was handsome. His dark hair was thick and curled at his neck, drawing her to twine her fingers in it. But to Lucia those were the trappings – the jewels which decorated a sword. Stephen was far more than that. It was the sturdiness to his hand, the skill which drove his strike during swordplay, the steely resolve to finish what he began, the steady courage that blazed from his eyes when she had held the knife at his throat ...
A deep bell sounded from within the castle, starting her guiltily from her thoughts. It had been years since she’d thought about a man in her life. Now, at last, she longed for one with all her heart, and he was betrothed to another.
She shook herself free from the mental image. She had not known he was taken. Now that she knew, she would have to put him out of her mind, whatever it took.
She nodded to Anna, deliberately keeping her gaze from Stephen. “What is that bell for?” she asked, focusing all of her attention on Anna’s pale skin and innocent smile.
Anna looked up in the direction of the noise. “How the morning has flown! It is already time for lunch,” she answered merrily. “I am so sorry, I have got to go – I am learning about running a kitchen, too! There are so many recipes and protocols!” She gave Stephen a squeeze and scampered up the remaining stairs, pausing at the top to wave to Stephen. He nodded in response and watched as she vanished in the door.
Lucia stood beside him, a dark hollow forming around her, swallowing her in its depths. A week. It had only been one week since she had felt his approach down the snowy hill, had put her knife to his throat, and he had gazed at her with steady trust. One week of her fingers twined in his, of her pouring out emotions which she’d kept locked within for years.
One week which had seemed to last a lifetime.
The stillness stretched on. In the past their silence had been comforting. It had been a gentle warmth which they had shared together. Now the quiet echoed with cold loneliness. At last the pain became too sharp; she searched for something to fill the void.
“Anna is very nice,” she ventured, not looking at him. She racked her mind for something noncommittal to add. “You must be very proud to be engaged to her.”
Stephen looked at her then; his eyes swirled with a turmoil of emotions. “Yes,” he agreed roughly. “Anna is a fine woman and is eager to be a wonderful wife. Any man would be lucky to have her.”
He opened his mouth to say more, then compressed his lips into a thin line. He looked at Lucia for another moment, then deliberately turned his eyes back toward the doors. “We should head in; lunch will be served shortly.”
They walked up the stairs and in through the main doors. Stephen spoke up again. “If you are up to it, you are welcome to join us in the great hall. I am sure a seat is open for you at the head table.”
The large room was thronging with people. Exuberant noise echoed from all sides as diners shouted for drinks and servants called responses. The air was saturated with fragrant aromas of spiced duck, fresh bread, roasted turnips, and other dishes. Stephen nodded to Anna who had already found her seat at the head table. Motioning to Lucia, he pressed a path for them through the mass of people.
As they approached it, Lucia saw Ellie off to one side, and tapped Stephen on his shoulder. “I am fine from here,” she stated evenly. “You go on without me.”
Stephen nodded, and his eyes seemed to shutter again. “Yes, you will be fine now,” he replied, half to himself. He turned and headed up toward Anna. Lucia watched him go for a moment, then made her own way over toward the other end of the table. Ellie was standing behind an empty chair with a mock frown, waving her over, and Lucia took the seat with exhausted relief.
Ellie started in immediately. “Where have you been? I have been looking for you for hours,” she accused with worry as she poured Lucia some wine from a wooden pitcher. “I figured you had stayed out a while, once you got there ... against orders I might add. I could get in big trouble! You would not want that to happen, would you?”
“I could say I drugged you and slipped out while you slept,” teased Lucia.
Ellie saw her settled in, then gave her a gentle pat. “Do you need anything else?”
Lucia shook her head. “You go get some food for yourself,” she suggested. “I imagine you are starving, after all that long worrying.”
Ellie winked and headed off at a trot toward the side door. Lucia called after her, “Do not expect me until dark, though!” She sighed in frustration. Was she an untested child promising to be in by curfew? Her shoulders tensed with the state she was in - helpless, not in charge, not in control. She needed to start changing that.
The noise in the room along with the press of the people caused a claustrophobic pressure to build within her. At the same time, despite all reason, she felt utterly alone. To her left was a corpulent noble engrossed with spreading as much butter as possible on his thick loaf of bread. Ian was to her right, but he was deep in discussion with his father, arguing whole-heartedly for the right to take on a key role in the upcoming conflicts.
She looked down to her trencher. The food, at least, was filling and well cooked. The duck was excellent, and she washed it down with rich red wine from a pewter flagon.
From all around, the sound pounded in at her. The voices of men relating their latest combat triumphs struggled to be heard over the babble of women gossiping. Behind Lucia a pair of noblemen were arguing loudly over what type of attack the Grays would launch next.
The minutes ticked by, and Lucia felt more and more like an outsider. How different this was from her own home, where she knew every face and was greeted by each as a friend.
Her keep had been overrun. It was all lost.
Lucia poked at the food on her trencher a few more times, but she just wasn’t hungry. She was suddenly homesick beyond all measure.
She folded up two biscuits and some oatmeal bread from the basket
s in the center of the table in a cloth napkin, and drew to her feet.
Ian looked over in surprise and put out a hand to hold on to her arm. “I am so sorry. I have been a rude host,” he apologized, holding her back. “I should have put my argument with my father off until later.” He tugged her down. “Please, sit. I imagine you were bored stiff by our practice this morning; I will be sure to ask Anna to spend time with you going forward.”
Lucia forced a smile onto her lips. “I should follow Matthew’s advice and get more rest,” she demurred. “I am sure I will be feeling better by tomorrow.”
“We can spend time together tomorrow, then? When you are feeling better?” pressed Ian, his eyes bright on hers.
“Yes, of course,” she agreed in relief. “That sounds lovely.”
She stood, turned, and quickly headed out to the main entrance. As her feet were set in motion, she found that she was almost running to the front doors. She stopped only when the doors closed behind her and she was once again in the fresh air.
She stood still for a few moments, breathing in deeply and struggling to regain her sanity.
James, the same young page who helped Lucia in the morning, now ran up to assist her. Lucia wondered from the concern on his face just how pale she looked. He spoke up immediately. “Are you feeling all right? I can get Brother Matthew for you, if you wish.” James wore a burgundy tunic with white pants, and a sturdy dagger was looped through his belt. He looked genuinely worried.
Lucia smiled reassuringly at the lad. “I am quite all right; I would simply like to get some air. That dining room is stifling after being out in the sun all morning.”
Lucia suddenly realized what she needed. “Could you bring me Troy again?” she asked. “I know it is quite a bother to get him saddled up.” She might not be up to real exercise, but a quiet ride in the forest would give her the solitude she needed to think. If she returned to her room, undoubtedly Ian or Ellie would feel it necessary to keep her company.
Or Stephen.
“Oh, no bother for you,” replied the page sincerely, turning to run to the stables. Lucia wondered at the gentle atmosphere that had created this easy openness. She was sure to thank the page profusely when he returned in record time with her steed. James blushed crimson under her praise, a shade that nearly matched his tunic. He stammered, a huge grin on his face, then claimed some chore needed to be done as he ran off to the stables.
Lucia nudged the horse into a quiet walk. She wandered down the empty streets of the city, past the closed storefronts and caught glimpses of the families sitting at their tables for lunch. She traveled on, wondering what it was to live and grow without constant fear of attack. The sensation had just come to this town - how would it change?
The richer homes were congregated immediately around the main keep. As she moved farther and farther away from the center, the homes became less ornamental, more basic. Wildflowers took the place of elegant knickknacks in the windows, curling ivy replacing elaborate trim on the shutters. The lack of wealth did not affect the pride of the owners, however. Even at the outskirts, near the protective wall, the most modest homes were still maintained with care.
There was a twenty foot gap between the buildings and the twin guard towers attached to the inner side of the curtain wall. A few chickens pecked in the dirt and sparse grass in this gap. When Lucia crossed the open expanse, she was hailed by the bearded watchman who stood on a platform over the gate.
“Greetings, M’Lady. What brings you to this end of the city? I thought you would stay in the castle until you’d fully healed. Not many approach these gates now that winter has settled in, and the enemies are so close. You came to keep me company, perhaps?” He guffawed at the notion, holding his spear for support. Lucia saw two guards up on the wall half turn, listening in on the conversation without stopping their visual sweep of the woods beyond.
Lucia could smell the fresh green of the forest just beyond the wall, and suddenly she was struck with a powerful longing to give one last farewell to her fallen friends. They deserved that, at least, in their resting place so far from the home they had loved.
She looked up to the watchman. “I would like to go out and say a prayer in the woods for my fallen comrades. I will stay close by.” Her mind, as it had been for the past week, tried to veer away from these thoughts, but she held firm. She had the luxury, at least for a while, of giving in to the sorrow. The realization that they were truly gone brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped away quickly. Not yet, not now. She must wait until she was out somewhere alone. She couldn’t afford to be lost in it yet.
The gatekeeper nodded somberly, watching her change in mood. “I will send a guard to go with you, then. The woods have been quiet, but one can never be certain.”
Lucia shook her head firmly. “I will be fine,” she reassured him. “I promise to stay close. This is something I need to do alone.”
The man hesitated for a long moment, glancing over his shoulder at the other two, then motioned with his head. The two soldiers came down from the wall. Lucia recognized one of the men as Marcus, the man who had brought her out to archery practice earlier. She exchanged nods with him as he passed.
The two moved to haul the logs from the gate rungs, then pulled one heavy door open for her. She slowly walked her horse through the opening. She only half noticed as Marcus mounted a horse and rode back toward the main buildings.
“Make sure you are back by sunset,” called the gatekeeper. “There are wolves out there - and other dangers.”
“I will,” promised Lucia, then turned her horse northwards, into the shadowed forest.
Lucia breathed a sigh of relief as the oaks closed snugly around her. The only sounds were the crisp, slow but steady rhythm of her horse’s hooves in the thin sheet of snow and the rustle of birds in the trees. The sun was high in the sky, but the tree branches filtered out much of the sunlight. The woods remained cool with the snow barely melting in many spots. For a while, she was content to move languidly through the peaceful oaks, feeling more relaxed than she had in many days.
She wondered if she could find the clearing where they had mounted the last battle. Undoubtedly it was safe for now with the local troops actively scouting for any sign of activity. She knew Stephen and Ian had stumbled upon it while riding one of their well-traveled paths. There was only one in front of her currently, so she decided to let Troy do the steering. In the meantime, she sat back and felt her tension easing with each passing minute.
She thought back to the times as a child when, ordered by her father to attend an important banquet, she had instead ridden for miles to some secluded spot to swim or relax. She eventually returned, and always her father had understood her enough not to be upset with her. “Time enough for social graces when you are married,” he’d sigh as he rubbed her head.
Her poor father. He was always so sure that she would eventually marry a soldier and give him the grandchildren he so clearly wished for. Even when her engagement had been shown to be a sham, her fiancé disgraced … tears welled in her eyes and she brusquely wiped them away. She had hardened her heart after that betrayal. She’d poured herself heart and soul into her work.
A wave of guilt washed over her. Perhaps she was being selfish in keeping every man at arm’s length. Was she putting her own raw emotions above her duty to her family? She knew in many other lands that it would be her role to flirt with Ian, perhaps to bind his family and troops to her own through marriage. That would help guarantee their cooperation in the upcoming battle.
Shaking her head, she sighed deeply as Troy walked through the open trees. Who was she trying to fool? She had given in to courtship once out of a sense of duty. It had nearly brought total ruin to her lands. She would not make that mistake again.
No, the only man she would trust in her life was her twin brother. She adored Michael, treasured his firm strength and compassionate heart. He would have snowball fights with her in the winter and ride out on hunts
at her side in the languorous summer. They would often share patrols, and evenings were spent contentedly in long talks by the glowing embers of a campfire.
She smiled as she thought back to their years together. He had always been there for her. When she played the harp, he would sing along in that marvelous, rich voice of his. When they attended the local festivals, he would dance as her partner, aware of how she maintained a wall against suitors after the painful destruction of Evan’s courtship.
Lucia wondered how her brother was doing on the boat. They were undoubtedly tucked into a harbor near Amble for now, waiting for spring’s gentler seas. He held the responsibility for the lives of their remaining villagers. Had he formally assumed their father’s place? He had always been ready for the responsibility, or so it seemed. Did he now miss her as much as she missed him?
It would be almost two months before she saw him again, so she resolved to put him out of her mind for now - it would only worry her. It seemed the list of subjects to avoid thinking about had grown. It was bad enough that she had trained herself to be tight-lipped … but to shut out all thought …
Coming back to her present situation, she realized that Troy had stopped a while ago. There was a small clearing up ahead. She dismounted slowly and approached the area with cautious steps, drawing her sword with practiced ease as she stepped into the open. She knew she wasn’t up to a fight, but it did no good to look helpless, just in case.
The area was almost eerily silent, and there was no movement as far as she could see.
Yes, this is where her companions had fallen. The scene looked much as she had left it, or at least as much as she could remember. Dead Grays still littered the ground, while the cairn of ash was long cold and much was scattered by the winds. She walked forward and knelt at the foot of the rocks, sad that her friends would have no proper funeral. She had done the best she could. She put the sword point-down into the ground, and bent her head in prayer, leaning on it for support.
