A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy)

by Lana Williams

  “Bring him forward, Edward,” Blackwell ordered.

  Edward yanked the angry man into the center of the hall. Long, dirty brown hair framed a snarling face in much worse shape than Edward’s. A dark brown tunic made of coarse fabric hung on the man’s thin frame. His hands were bound before him. A leather strip served as a belt and emphasized the bagginess of his clothing. Even from a distance, the prisoner smelled rank. Based on his appearance, his days on the road had been long and hard.

  Hugh sat and poured himself some ale as Royce turned to Blackwell to see how he’d like to proceed. Alyna grimaced as she held her hand to her nose as the prisoner’s odor filled the hall. Royce couldn’t help but smile at her expression.

  After several long, tension-filled moments, Blackwell nodded for Royce to proceed. He rose, hoping Blackwell would send Alyna to bed. Based on the prisoner’s belligerent expression, this promised to be an unpleasant conversation, and he had no desire to have Alyna witness it. He sighed as he realized she had no intention of leaving and tried his best to ignore her presence.

  “Loyal companions you have, leaving you behind on a lame horse to be taken prisoner.”

  The man merely curled his lip at Royce’s comment, his blackened teeth making the expression all the fiercer.

  Royce gestured for Edward to back away. He hesitated, glancing at Blackwell before complying, setting Royce’s teeth on edge.

  Royce stood in front of the prisoner, arms folded, allowing his larger size to intimidate the man. Silence pervaded the hall as completely as a shout would have. The man’s eyes shifted, he licked his lips nervously before at last looking up at Royce, a scowl on his face.

  Still Royce said nothing as he walked around the man, examining him closely to see what he could learn by his appearance alone.

  The prisoner’s gauntness suggested meals had been few and far between. His stench and ragged attire spoke of fortnights on the road. Royce knew from experience that being constantly on the move filled a man’s bones with exhaustion, wearing on him in every possible way.

  Two servants entered the hall from the kitchen, bearing trays loaded with bread, cheese, and roasted meat. The man’s lips parted as his gaze followed the trays with longing.

  “Who is it you ride for?” Royce asked.

  The man’s gaze jerked away from the food and returned to Royce, defiance written upon his face as he held his tongue.

  Royce circled him again, stopping to the side of him. “Why do you ride against Lord Blackwell?”

  Still no answer. The thief’s gaze roamed the hall, the furnishings, and lingered once more on the food before studying its occupants. His gaze halted on Alyna.

  And remained there far too long.

  Anger surged through Royce at the man’s impudence, and he moved forward to block her from his sight.

  The thief gave him an insolent smile. Determined to teach the man a lesson in respect, Royce seized the front of his tunic, lifting him to his toes, and shook him hard.

  Wariness lit the man’s face, his attention squarely on Royce. “You will treat everyone in this hall with respect. Is that clear?”

  The man nodded as best he could from his precarious position.

  Royce lowered him but did not yet release him. “Your name?”

  The thief scowled, but said nothing.

  “Answer me.” He shook him again, determined to get some answers.

  “Thomas,” said the man at last.

  “Where are you from, Thomas?”

  Silence was his only answer.

  “Where?” Royce tightened his hold of the man’s tunic, his patience ending.

  “I call no place home.”

  “For whom do you ride?”

  Again, he held his silence. His face reddened and his breath came in rasps from Royce’s hold.

  Royce wanted to throttle the man but could feel Alyna watching him. Bloody hell. His hands were tied with her in the room. A quick glance at Hugh and Edward brought forward reinforcements. Hugh stood beside him, his hand on his axe, and Edward stepped forward as well, his fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword.

  “Who?” Royce repeated. “Whose orders do you follow?”

  Thomas took in the three of them and swallowed hard. After a long moment, he shook his head. “He kills anyone who tells. I’d rather be killed by the likes of you than him.”

  Something in the man’s expression convinced Royce he told the truth. A different method was needed to gain information from him. One that took less effort than it would to beat an answer out of him.

  Royce released him. “If we offer you sanctuary here, will you tell us what you know?”

  Cautious hope made the man’s eyes grow wide. “How do I know you keep your word?”

  Royce cut the bindings from his hands. “Our word is our honor. We’ll give you food and a bed for the night. Sleep on it. If you attempt to leave, my offer is no longer open. We’ll speak again on the morrow.”

  Royce turned to the table to confer with Blackwell and caught Alyna’s expression of relief. Apparently, she had no wish to see the prisoner beaten before her.

  Edward grabbed Royce’s arm. “What is it you’re doing? After everything I went through to capture him, you’re going to feed him and put him to bed like some wayward child?” Though Edward kept his voice low, his derision was obvious.

  Royce’s temper snapped. He shoved Edward back. “Do not dare question me, Edward. It is not your place. You are here to follow my orders. You’ve sworn your allegiance to Blackwell. Do you take back your vow?”

  Edward glared at Royce but at last nodded. “Nay, Sir Royce,” he said with contempt then glanced at Blackwell before taking his leave.

  Royce motioned for Hugh to take the prisoner out. The man’s wary gaze remained on Royce as he walked away.

  ***

  “He has nightmares of fire. They haunt him,” Gunnell said, her voice low.

  “Royce does?” Alyna asked with surprise. She’d visited Gunnell this morning to praise her for coming forward with what she’d seen in her vision. She knew it had taken courage for the healer to speak last eve. “He’s always so confident. It doesn’t seem like he’d suffer from such a malady.

  “He’s had them for years now,” Gunnell answered.

  “Yet he entered the burning cottage to save the boy.” Her heart fluttered at the thought. She couldn’t think of a more impressive act of bravery. “Why does he have the dreams?”

  The healer paused. “I don’t know. I wasn’t shown that.”

  Something traumatic had caused the recurring nightmares, that much Alyna knew. Is that what had happened when he’d woken on the journey here? A well of sympathy stirred deep inside her. How she wished she could help him in some way. She’d learned that speaking of such matters could minimize their effect, but knowing Royce, it seemed unlikely he would tell anyone of his nightmares.

  “You must be pleased you were right about the thieves. Hopefully the one they caught will provide some helpful information.”

  Gunnell scoffed. “I didn’t foresee the fire. Royce and the little boy could’ve died in that cottage. Why didn’t I see the fire if I saw the thieves?”

  “Oh, Gunnell,” Alyna said with dismay. “You can only share what you’re shown. I’m pleased you found the courage to tell my grandfather and Sir Royce what you did foresee.” She patted Gunnell’s arm, hoping to comfort her.

  Disappointment clouded the healer’s brown eyes. Fine lines creased her face and Alyna wondered if the burden of her gift had aged her.

  “You’re not to worry,” Alyna reassured her. “Before long, we’ll better understand your second sight and hopefully you’ll be able to help others even more.”

  “But I didn’t help. Not really. Sir Royce would’ve caught the thief without me. I don’t think I help anyone. I only frighten them.” She covered her eyes with her hands, making Alyna realize how truly upset she was.

  “That’s not true. Even Royce said everything you tol
d him proved correct.”

  “If I would’ve had the vision sooner, they could’ve caught the lot of them. Sir Royce and his men could’ve waited for the thieves before they set the fires. That poor child wouldn’t have been trapped in the cottage, and Sir Royce wouldn’t have had to brave his own nightmare to fetch him. I see too little too late. This is a curse. A useless curse.” Gunnell’s voice choked with tears.

  “Do not despair. The choice is not yours in this matter.” Alyna sought the right words to comfort her friend but knew not what else to say. Perhaps action would provide Gunnell with a sense of control over the situation. “There has to be a reason or even a pattern of the things you see.”

  “I’ve seen none.”

  “Are the visions a result of what you touch? Do they always involve people you know?”

  She thought for a moment then shook her head.

  “Well.” Alyna tapped her chin with a finger as she pondered the matter. “We’ll keep examining them until we determine the reason. There’s got to be some connection that we’ve yet to comprehend.”

  Gunnell said nothing, but the hopeless expression on her face spoke of her despair.

  “These things take time, Gunnell. Have patience.”

  The healer shifted, linking her hands together and clearing her throat. “I’ve told my husband of your interest in my...”

  “Gift?” Alyna suggested.

  “He would more likely call it a curse, but aye, my gift.” Gunnell got up and with restless movements, refolded the already folded woven blankets on the bed.

  “And?” Alyna prompted her.

  “He thinks it wrong of me to involve you. Perhaps he’s right. After all, you’re a lady and ’tis unseemly that you would aid me.” She wouldn’t meet Alyna’s gaze as she paced the small cottage.

  “I understand if you do not wish my assistance, but I value your friendship, and not just because of your gift.” Gunnell stopped and stared at her in surprise. “You are a caring and generous person, and a talented healer, and I admire you. The choice is yours. If my presence and my questions make you uncomfortable, simply tell me and I will be gone.”

  The healer held Alyna’s gaze for a long moment, tears in her eyes. “I would be relieved to have your help, my lady.”

  “Excellent. Between the two of us, we will find something to help you.” Deciding enough had been said on the subject, Alyna said, “I stopped by the burned cottages this morning. Many of the repairs will be complete within a few days except for the cottage that collapsed, but seeing the senseless destruction in the bright light of day...” She shook her head, at a loss for words. “’Tis difficult to understand what purpose the thieves had.”

  “I had the same thought. I must say I’m grateful ours was not burned and that it was not our son who was trapped.” Her expression grew grim again as her shoulders sagged. “Don’t place hope with me to solve the problem with the thieves. The visions come when they will despite my efforts or lack thereof.”

  “What about the things you do just before the visions? Is there a particular spot where you sit that might bring them about or perhaps a food you eat?”

  Gunnell thought for a moment, but shook her head. “I don’t remember anything like that, but I’ll pay closer attention. As frustrating as this is, I’m glad I don’t see all things all the time.”

  Alyna nodded as she tried to imagine what that would be like. Second sight of that sort would be a burden indeed.

  Gunnell’s eyes widened and her expression eased. Was she in the midst of a vision? Her gaze locked onto Alyna with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

  “What is it?” Alyna asked, wondering if something had happened to Nicholas again.

  “You have...feelings for Sir Royce?”

  Alyna’s face heated. She opened her mouth to deny it, but decided there was no point. How could she expect Gunnell to confide in her if she didn’t do the same?

  “I do,” she admitted with a sigh.

  Gunnell gave her a small smile. “My apologies, my lady. I don’t mean to pry.” Her smile grew as she sat at the table again. “He is very handsome, is he not?”

  Alyna laughed and squeezed Gunnell’s hand. “He is indeed. I’ve never met another man quite like him.”

  She didn’t know what Gunnell had seen, nor did she want to. She wouldn’t mention the tingling sensation that came over her when he entered a room, or the rush of longing that filled her when he was near. He was handsome to be sure. His gray eyes caused her heart to pound, and his broad shoulders and narrow hips were perfectly formed, but there was more to her attraction than his physical appearance.

  He was a man of honor.

  While this was a simple quality, she’d discovered how rare it was. His concern for Nicholas when he’d been injured showed how much he cared for her son. His rescue of the village boy despite his fear of fire was heroic. Yet she realized he was capable of violence. Hadn’t she seen a brief display of that in the hall last eve?

  Though tempted to ask Gunnell if she had seen how Royce felt about her, she resisted. She knew he found her attractive on some level, which was new and surprising in itself.

  But it seemed to her what he felt for her paled compared to how she felt about him. She had no desire to hear Gunnell confirm that. Plus she already knew nothing could come of her feelings. She needed a safe haven for Nicholas and Royce was a knight who oft encountered violence.

  Never mind the hollowness that weighed her at the idea of staying away from him.

  Ready to change the subject, she asked, “What have you heard on the balancing of humours of the body?”

  “Only a little from another healer.”

  “My mother had some notes on the importance of them in her journal. She said that the four bodily humours of blood, phlegm, and yellow and black biles are made of the four elements of air, water, fire, and earth as well as four qualities, hot, cold, dry, and wet. The combination of these determine a person’s temperament, whether it be sanguine, phlegmatic, choleric, or melancholic. I thought perhaps a better balance would change your visions.”

  Gunnell nodded. “I’ve tried different stones and charms, but none of them seem to have helped.”

  “What of an herbal remedy of some sort? My mother’s journal mentioned a special herb, erbe yve, but I’ve never seen it.”

  “It’s difficult to find and nearly impossible to grow in a garden. I’ve found it on occasion in the forest some distance from here, but it is too far for my children to walk, so I do not gather it often. Do you think it might help me?”

  “According to my mother’s notes, it creates a better balance in the body. Mayhap it would give you more control over your powers.”

  “Well, I’m not certain of it, but ’tis worth a try. The herb is said to reduce nervousness, so it might help. I would like to be able to direct my gift rather than have it direct me.” Her lips quivered. “I can’t continue to live like this.”

  Alyna placed her hand over Gunnell’s in sympathy. She knew, in a different sort of way, what it was like to have no control over your life. She didn’t like the feeling either.

  “If you’ll give me a description of the herb and directions to where you last found it, I’ll gather it on the morrow.”

  Gunnell protested, but at last relented when Alyna refused to be swayed from her mission.

  A journey into the woods sounded like a fine venture to undertake. If the herb helped Gunnell, it might someday help Nicholas as well and that made Alyna all the more determined to find it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Lemon balm is said to be effective

  as an elixir of youthfulness, though

  poor judgment seems to follow this path.”

  Lady Catherine’s Herbal Journal

  When Alyna arrived back at the keep, Enid advised her that her grandfather and Nicholas had gone to the kitchen. While Alyna appreciated her grandfather making the effort to get to know Nicholas, she worried her son might s
ay or do something to alarm her grandfather. She had no desire to explain his second sight, at least not until she knew if they were going to live here for a time, so she hurried to the kitchen in pursuit.

  “My lady.” The cook bobbed a curtsey as Alyna entered the large room that bustled with servants.

  “Good day to you, Tellie. Have you seen Lord Blackwell and Nicholas?”

  The cook smiled. “They were here and shared some bread.” She gestured to the work table in the center of the large room covered in crumbs. “I gave them some sweetened prunes to take with them on their walk.”

  “Did everything seem...fine between them?” Alyna asked with a hitch of panic.

  Tellie frowned, obviously confused by Alyna’s question. “Aye. They were having a grand time together.”

  Alyna thanked her and went outside to find them. Nicholas’s gift surfaced at the oddest moments. He’d certainly made himself clear about Edward’s horse hurting him. She was grateful Royce hadn’t questioned her more on that. At least, not yet. She could only hope Nicholas wouldn’t reveal something to her grandfather.

  She searched the outer bailey and caught sight of them watching the blacksmith pound a hot orange piece of metal. Nicholas watched from high atop Lord Blackwell’s shoulders. Before she could reach them, they moved on toward the portcullis, scattering chickens as they went. She didn’t know where they ventured, but followed as quickly as she could, anxious to get to Nicholas before he did or said something she couldn’t explain.

  As she passed through the gate, she could see knights and soldiers gathered in the field below the village. With the excitement of the fires and her meeting with Gunnell, she’d nearly forgotten about the jousting practice.

  At last, she was close enough to get her grandfather’s attention. “Going to watch the training?” she called out.

  “Good day to you, Alyna. I thought Nicholas might enjoy it.” With a twinkle in his eye, he added, “At a safe distance, of course.”

  From his tall perch, Nicholas nodded with enthusiasm. “Let’s go see the joust, Mama!”