by Lisa Shea
She nodded with calm assurance. “Yes, much better. Thank you,” she replied. Stephen stood up next to her and she saw that he, too, seemed to have a fresh outlook with the spring dawn.
Lucia glanced between the two men. She was glad Michael liked Stephen. She wondered just how much Michael had guessed about how close she and Stephen had been at Penrith. She hadn’t spoken much of it herself; hadn’t thought of it, really until the past two days.
She watched Michael turn to Stephen, and the two walked off to discuss something by the horses. Lucia bent down to pack. The thought tumbled around in her mind that until now, her time with Stephen had consisted solely of stolen moments. What would their future hold? There was only the one night that they had both been swept away. At the time she had been content to let it stand on its own, a tender memory in a rough-hewn world. Now that they had time, and the other wounds in their lives were starting to mend, would a real relationship work out between them? Would Stephen be interested in seeing that it did?
Regardless of what the future held for them, Lucia did not regret that evening together. She had given herself willingly to him. She would not trade that night for anything. There was little enough love in the world, she felt, to be anything but grateful when it truly swept one away. Even if the bloom faded in the chaos to come, she would have those memories.
She gave Troy’s saddle cinch one last tug. Well, she wasn’t going to worry about future plans in long-hoped-for times of peace. She had never given much thought to marriage, at least not after Evan ran off. With all of the fighting and trouble coming up, she was going to be happy she had Stephen for now. To have him as a friend, a trusted ally, that was more than many had in the world. If a richer relationship eventually came to them, she would count herself blessed. This was the time to enjoy the present without fretting about the future. Tomorrow would come soon enough.
Pushing some supplies into her bag, Lucia came across her parchment scroll. She stopped her packing, instead sitting on the ground and reading through the poems. She saw immediately how they reflected her pain and her blocked emotions. In the fresh light of morning she could now see where she had been holding back her feelings. She rolled up the scroll tightly, and vowed not to hide things from herself in the future, even if they were painful. Better to live fully and honestly than to submerge emotions in a fog of deception.
The next four days passed more and more easily, like a wheel once gummed with mud that had eased itself free. Stephen and Lucia spent their days in friendly conversation and their evenings in long discussions by the campfire. It seemed that they talked more freely and eloquently now than they ever had in the past. Lucia almost wished they did not need to reach their destination. She longed to prolong this ‘space between worlds’ that brought her so much pleasure. Before, her relationship with Stephen had been balancing on a knife’s edge, caught between conflicting needs. Now it was becoming open, joyous, with their pleasure in each other’s company free and expansive. Still, she feared that the coming conflicts, and the return to Penrith, would harm the love she was trying to nurture. She savored the time they spent together.
* * *
Lucia was riding at the front of the group when she heard the riders approaching. The noon sun was just reaching its zenith in a cloudless sky. She raised her hand to bring the group to a halt; they came into a close formation and watched the road ahead with caution. Stephen was especially tense, and she wondered if he was more worried that it was the Grays or that it was not.
As the horses drew close, it became clear that it was only a few riders, and they came fast and hard. When the men came into close range, Lucia realized that they wore the burgundy colors of Lord Edmund’s guard. Their faces were somber. Stephen pulled his horse before the others and sat alone to wait.
The riders pulled up a few feet before the party, and the leader hailed Stephen solemnly. “Stephen, we are glad to find you well. We bring greetings from Lord Edmund,” he stated formally, then nodded to the rest of the group. “The road is clear for you to Penrith.” He paused for a moment, but Stephen said nothing. The soldier continued. “We have been sent to fetch back the body of Ian.”
There was a further silence, and this one stretched on. Lucia looked down, but Stephen stared at the soldiers with a set jaw, almost daring them to say anything further. Realizing he had nothing to add, the soldier nodded his understanding. “Fare well, Stephen,” he offered, pulling his mount to the side. “We will see you again at the hall.” The group rode on down the road in the direction of the pond.
Stephen turned to look after them, anger clear on his face. “Ian does not deserve a soldier’s funeral,” he growled bitterly. “He deserves to be dragged home in an old cart, drawn by mules.” The look of anger became mixed with one of sorrow, and he turned his head. He turned his mount with a sharp movement and started forward on the road again.
Lucia let him go, waiting to follow behind the group. She knew she should feel angry as well, that she should wish awful punishments even on the memory of Ian. She couldn’t bring herself to have those feelings, if only because she knew the pain that Anna and Lord Edmund must be going through. They had loved Ian so much, had so many hopes for him, of spending countless years with him ...
It struck her that she concerned herself so much with Anna’s feelings because Anna wore them on her sleeve. Should she not feel the same, even more strongly, for Stephen’s loss? If Anna cared so much for Ian, how much more would Stephen have felt his death, with Ian being his foster brother for so many years? Stephen had no family of his own, and Ian had been his playmate, his fellow traveler. She remembered how Stephen and Ian rode with each other, how they worked as a team. She had been primarily thinking of Stephen as overwrought because of the harm done her, but how much worse must it be that he had lost his best friend because of her?
Lucia looked forward to where Stephen rode alone at the head of the group. She knew that feeling, of wanting to be independent, to take care of herself. Stephen was trying to cope with the feeling of being betrayed by Ian, and maybe, in a way, of her betraying him by bringing harm to one he cared so much about.
And, despite Stephen’s objections, surely she had some small responsibility for setting the course for Ian’s assault on her? She had kissed Ian in front of his entire keep. She had publicly led him on. If she had not chosen to take advantage of Ian in that way, perhaps Ian would not have thought of her as “his”. Perhaps he never would have built up the emotions which led to his attack.
Lucia began to grow more concerned about the homecoming and what it would bring.
With each dawn the mornings grew warmer, but Lucia’s thoughts began to drag her to lag behind. Still, on the final day of their journey, they woke early, before dawn. The sun was just rising over the trees as they headed up the trail not far below Penrith. The group was quiet. Lucia knew their destination was close at hand, and she both welcomed the return to Anna and feared the reaction they might receive. She stayed behind, letting the others pass her, until she was near the tail of the group.
Stephen and Michael soon let their horses trail back to flank her. She had heard them deep in conversation during this morning’s ride, and stayed away to give them time to talk. Stephen had been much quieter since Lord Edmund’s riders had passed, and she wanted to give him time to think, to come back to her on his own. She wondered what the two had been in such close discussion about. Maybe Stephen had revealed something to Michael. She waited until the two men were beside her, and then put on a smile. “Is what you are discussing open to a third ear?” she asked lightly.
Michael’s eyes were shadowed. “I think, in fact, that your reply is needed here,” he replied, looking at Lucia with a mixture of confusion and pensiveness.
Lucia suddenly wondered just what the topic of conversation had been, and regretted her entry into the discussion.
Her brother continued on with a tone that Lucia immediately found deceptively neutral. “Stephen and I have
been discussing the Grays, and how this whole war came to be. Of course, something like that could be debated for hours without anyone being the wiser at the end. Still, he had some new views that I found to be interesting. Apparently, my sister, so do you.”
Michael paused for a moment, seeming to carefully choose his words. At last he put breath behind them. “Stephen tells me that you accused his family of heinous misdeeds, which launched the Grays on their murderous spree.”
Lucia’s mind reeled with confusion. “What?”
“Well, maybe not those exact words,” Michael amended, “but that was your meaning.” He looked at her with a concerned eye. “Lucia, did you say that to him?”
Lucia swam with bewilderment. What could Michael be referring to? She looked to Stephen, but he was silent, looking attentively between brother and sister.
She went back in her mind, searching her memory for when that conversation might have come up. Stephen watched her with distant eyes, and it seemed suddenly that a shadowy gulf stretched between them.
Her resolve focused. She had to show them that they were mistaken. She concentrated on tracking down the incident.
It came back to her suddenly. Stephen must have been referring to the time they were arguing about the Grays by the clearing, near Penrith.
“First, we were angry, and words were spoken that were better left unsaid by both of us,” she explained to Michael. “My point was not to accuse Stephen’s family, but the nobles of this area in general.” She took a deep breath and continued. “In any case, I said that the Grays were much like us, people with wives and children. They were poor farmers and tradesmen starved out by richer landowners. They had been driven to extremes by rough usage. On that, I do stand by my feelings.”
Michael looked sternly at Lucia, a flush of anger coming to his face. “Where in the world did you hear such tales? I have seen every bit of information you have over the past few years. I have certainly never come across any basis for such a story.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Was this something new you found on your travels to Penrith? We have been in this conflict for years. The vast majority of Grays we have encountered have been hired mercenaries, working for the money and the pleasure. They rape and plunder for the fun of it and leave behind a trail of desolation. Very few, if any, have any real cause to campaign.” He looked again at his sister. “Just where did you hear this from?”
Lucia was piqued by her brother’s harsh reaction, and shot back without thinking. “Evan told me all about it,” she retorted hotly. She ignored the shocked look on Michael’s face and steamed on. “It was on one of our patrols, just before he left to -”
Lucia suddenly realized what she had been saying.
Her brother drew away from her, shuttering his eyes. She felt the distance as a cold wind whistling down from a high mountain pass.
She dropped her voice lower, her throat tightening. “I always felt that was part of why he betrayed us,” she explained. “He truly believed in their cause.”
Michael’s voice was hoarse with fury. “You are not to mention his name in my presence again,” he ordered. “That goes for his nonsensical ramblings, too. Perhaps you do not remember what happened to our town because of his ... beliefs. I do.”
Before Lucia could speak, Michael wheeled with a sharp movement and galloped toward the front of the group.
* * *
Stephen looked over at Lucia in surprise at what had happened. When his conversation with Michael had reminded him of Lucia’s comments, he’d been troubled enough to mention them to Michael. He had not expected to renew a family feud.
After riding some time in silence, Stephen felt he should speak. “Lucia, I am sorry,” he apologized contritely, moving his horse more closely alongside hers. “It just came out, when we were talking.” He glanced forward to where Michael had vanished, then back to Lucia. “I know that Evan is a difficult topic for you.”
Lucia dropped her eyes and shook her head. “I have vowed to stop closing out the past,” she murmured. “This is as good as any a place to prove it.”
Stephen’s heart warmed, that she would trust him with such a deeply lodged, painful memory. He nodded quietly for her to continue.
“Evan, you might recall, was one of our captains,” she explained. “He came from the Gray territory, back when some of the factions were still peaceful neighbors of ours. When I accepted his engagement, he told me countless stories about his past and the rough conditions of his home village. I never questioned them.”
She looked down. “Even when he betrayed us, I still clung to the hope that there was a reason behind it; that he had been driven to it by circumstances.”
Stephen nodded in understanding. “You wanted to believe that your trust in him had not been completely unwarranted.”
She gave a wry smile. “I suppose so. I suppose I also felt some guilt that I had never truly loved him. I only accepted his suit because I thought it would make my father happy. I imagined that it would ... make sense, given what my role in life was supposed to be. I did what I thought any dutiful daughter would do, I said yes to what I thought was the right path.”
Stephen’s face shadowed. “Like me and Anna,” he commented softly.
Lucia realized that in a way, that was true. Her father hadn’t told her to marry Evan, but he’d always made it clear that Evan was a great choice for ‘all the right reasons.’ She had hoped that she could learn to love him.
Stephen brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. She looked back over, her eyes glistening. “Never blame yourself for trusting,” he admonished gently, and it looked like advice he had been giving himself recently by the way he said it. “Just make sure, the next time, that you find someone worthy of your trust. When you have, do not let go.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and then held it in his own as they continued down the road.
The two rode hand in hand in silence through the dappled light, drawing ever nearer to Penrith and all it held for both of them.
Chapter 22
Lucia marveled at the differences in Penrith as her group rode through the open gates, the summer morning sunshine streaming across the cobblestones. It seemed like hardly any time had passed since she last ridden through the streets, yet the atmosphere was completely different - the city was bustling with energy. The forest as they had approached was full of patrols; Lucia was sure there were more that they had passed unknowingly. The trees had been taken down for a full hundred feet from the walls, and the gates were reinforced. The citizens they saw walking in the streets were full of purpose and looked around sharply as the group made its way to the keep.
Lucia relaxed and patted Troy. She had been worried, she admitted to herself, about Penrith’s readiness for the upcoming conflict. It seemed she needn’t have been concerned. Stephen had been correct - the various armies of the area had banded together against the common threat. Everything looked as if it was coming together nicely. She glanced behind her and saw the same confidence on her fellows’ faces.
Stephen pulled up alongside her, his face calm and resolved. She appreciated him being by her side. While it was one thing for the soldiers to band together against the Grays, she still did not know how she would be accepted in Ian’s home.
The group arrived at the main steps of the keep, where Marcus led the main force around to the stables. Lucia, Stephen, and Michael dismounted and let their horses be led away in the group.
A slim figure in burgundy flew down the stairs, calling Lucia’s name.
“Ellie!” Lucia called out in pleasure as she recognized her young friend. The two embraced strongly.
“I am glad you are all right,” sighed Ellie, her eyes both concerned and warm.
Another face came up alongside Ellie – Lily, her cuts and bruises healed. She gave Lucia a tender hug, then held her hands in her own. “It will be all right,” she promised Lucia in a low, but clear voice. “Abigail, I, and the others have made sure of that.”
&n
bsp; Stephen and Michael came up alongside the trio, and Lucia cut short her reply, unwilling to ask for more details in front of the two men. Stephen glanced down at her, then looked past her up to the main door. Lucia turned to follow their gaze and found herself looking into Lord Edmund’s eyes. They were much heavier, much darker than she remembered. She involuntarily took a step backward, and Stephen’s hand reassuringly rested against her lower back. Taking a deep breath, she stood her ground and waited for Lord Edmund to join them.
With his cape draped over his shoulders, Lord Edmund stood silent for a full moment before he spoke. “Many things have happened in our past,” he called out in a voice which was quiet, yet carried to all in the courtyard. “Many of these events have been difficult. We do face, however, an extraordinary battle. I would like all of us to put any past differences behind us and join together to face this common enemy. I offer welcome - a warm welcome - to Lucia and her friends who have come to assist us.”
Lucia walked up and took Lord Edmund’s proffered hand. “Thank you,” she responded warmly. She held it a moment, then turned to her brother. “I would like to introduce you to my brother, Lord Michael of Keilder. He is in charge of the forces we brought with us, sixty men strong.” Michael approached and grasped the other’s hand firmly. Lord Edmund nodded his greeting, then turned to lead the group into the great hall.
The hall was set for lunch, and soon the room was ringing with the voices of soldiers. Lucia stood to one side, watching as Stephen and Michael sat at the head table to discuss strategy with Lord Edmund. Anna was nowhere in sight. She waited for five minutes, then ten … but to her concern Anna did not appear. Excusing herself, she went to the sewing room to see if Anna was there.
She entered the quiet room and suddenly drew to a halt, feeling very out of place. She still wore her boots and traveling clothes, and was tracking mud into the elegant room of embroidered dresses. The women of the room all looked up in shock, and Lucia’s eyes found those of Anna to one side. Anna’s eyes were red with crying, and before she realized what she was doing, Lucia had flung herself on her knees by Anna’s side.
