Breath Of Heaven

by Holby Cindy

  “Ferris saw a boar at the edge of the wood yestereve,” she continued. “There will be a hunt later today.”

  “And you will ride?” Edward asked. His hand grasped weakly at the hem of her tunic, then moved down to flip the ends of the cross garters that held her chausses firmly in place around her thighs.

  She shifted her seat. She knew her position was most unseemly: she had one leg curled on the bed and the other poised against the rug that covered the oaken floor. “I always ride, Papa,” she reminded him. “You taught me well.”

  “I fear I have taught you too well the ways of a man and not enough the ways of a lady,” he said. His glance took in her state of dress, which made her look more like a woodsman than mistress of Aubregate. It made sense to dress that way. How could she climb a tree or pull a lamb from a frozen stream if she wore skirts?

  Eliane could not tell if he was sad or just weak. She could not stand to think he felt regret, so she hastened to assure him. “I have found your teachings to be most wondrous, Papa. Indeed I feel that I have fared better than most daughters of lords who are kept as secret treasures and then bartered off in marriage at a very young age. Most of them before they can even comprehend what it means to be a woman.”

  A wry smile twisted Edward’s face. “And do you comprehend these things, my daughter?”

  Heat flamed her neck and cheeks, almost matching the fiery hue of her hair. “Madwyn has taught me the way of things,” she said softly. “I know what happens between a man and a woman.” She could not meet her father’s gaze. Instead she looked at Llyr, who laid his head upon her lap at her sudden discomfort and rumbled questioningly while he stared up at her with his deep brown eyes.

  The silence stretched uncomfortably between them until Eliane could not bear it any longer and looked up from beneath her lashes to make sure her father was still with her. She found him studying her carefully as if something weighed heavy on his mind. Since she did not like the direction the conversation had turned, she gratefully changed the subject.

  “Something troubles you, Papa?”

  “I will be leaving you soon, Eliane.”

  Her throat swelled and she forbade the tears to spring forth. It was hard enough to think of her father’s death without his speaking of it. She liked it better when they both pretended that he was merely ill.

  “Do not say such things,” she urged. “You will be better come spring. You are as strong as the earth and merely need the sun to bring you back to life. Indeed, I feel much as you do, and would love to pass the days lying beneath soft blankets and furs.” Usually her teasing pleased him and she looked at him in anticipation of a quick rejoinder about having worked long and hard for many years and being deserving of a few days of rest. Today her teasing did not please him.

  “The time has long gone past for you to marry,” he said. “Are you certain there is no one you would choose for husband?”

  “There is no one, Papa,” she assured him.

  “No man of the forest or town interests you?”

  “Is it not my duty to marry someone of title?”

  “Yes, daughter, it is, but I would know if there is someone you care for…someone you could love.”

  The heat rose in her cheeks again and she looked away. “There is no one, Papa, I promise you.” How could there be when every man she knew felt as if he were her brother or uncle or grandfather? They were all her people, from the huntsmen of the forest to the fishermen by the sea. There was none who would look at her in any manner other than with sweet caring and respect for her role as Aubregate’s future protector. There was no one she would consider for husband.

  “It is my fault for keeping you close at hand,” Edward said. “How can you choose a husband when I have not given you anyone to choose from?”

  “I trust you to make the right decision for me,” Eliane assured him once more, yet she could not help the shiver of fear that crept up her spine.

  It seemed her father was determined to have her married before he died, yet whom did he expect her to marry? It was her duty to choose a husband who would protect Aubregate and the secrets that lay deep in the forest.

  If he were available, she would choose Peter, for she knew him to be kind. But Peter had had a wife chosen for him at infancy, as most lords and ladies of the realm did. If only her father had chosen someone for her when she was a child, then the problem would be resolved. She would most likely be long married with a daughter of her own.

  Yet he had given her the gift of choosing as her mother had chosen him and she’d neglected it all these years. She’d stayed close to Aubregate, as if her very life depended upon it. Many times she felt as if it did, as if she would suffocate or die of a broken heart if she set foot outside its borders.

  There was only one other lord she knew, and he was not one she would choose, even if he were the last man on earth. She would never marry Renauld Vannoy. She had witnessed his cruelty as a boy and knew that a black heart like his only worsened with time.

  Surely her father would not choose Renauld? It would be most practical for her to marry him, as her lands bordered his along the deep forest. Their union would bring peace to both their lands, healing the enmity that had arisen when Renauld’s father had killed her mother, and Edward had taken his revenge on his wife’s murderer.

  To this day the border they shared was not safe. Any of Renauld’s men who dared venture into the forest never returned, and a similar fate awaited the few unfortunate souls of Aubregate who happened to be caught away from its protection.

  Her words echoed in her ears as she watched her father’s face. She trusted him to make the right decision for her. Surely the right decision did not include Renauld?

  What if it did?

  “Ride with the hunt this day, Eliane,” Edward said. “But upon the morrow, I would have you dress as befitting your station.” He tugged on the end of her braid, and his eyes moved up to the wool cap that covered her head.

  “Yes, Papa,” Eliane said. She stood and Llyr moved beside her, anxious to be off. He knew there would be a hunt today. He’d seen the preparations.

  She bent to kiss her father and he took her hand. “I love you, dearest daughter. You have forever been a blessing to me.”

  “I love you too.” She turned quickly so he would not the see the tears that once more threatened to spill forth. Carefully, she walked away with Llyr at her heels. As soon as she was through the door, she fled as if her father’s pending death could somehow snare her also.

  Eliane ran down the curved stone steps and into the main hallway. She heard a maid squeal in surprise as she pounded by and recognized the cook’s voice calling out after her. She ignored them both and did not stop until she reached the inner bailey.

  Weak sunshine greeted her, along with a wall of frigid air that made her lungs ache. Her childhood friend Ammon stood with her mare, Aletha. Llyr bounded to the mare’s side and greeted her joyfully. Her bow and quiver hung from the saddle, along with a short sword and belt. No one hunted boar without weapons. To do so would be foolish. A bow such as hers would not stop a wild boar, but it might give the beast pause until her men could bring it down with their spears.

  “Are the men ready?” she asked Ammon as she took the reins and checked the girth on the saddle.

  “Yes, milday,” Ammon replied. “They await you outside the gate.”

  “Milady!” The cook stood in the door, her ample sides heaving with exertion. “Is anything amiss?” Matilde held Eliane’s cloak in her arms.

  “Nay,” Eliane said when she saw the concern on the cook’s face. “I am just anxious to be off.” She smiled gratefully at Matilde as she placed the fur-lined cloak over her shoulders.

  Did Matilde hide her fear for the future as Eliane hoped she hid hers? Did she, along with the other people of Aubregate, worry that their lady would not care for them as well as their lord? There was no fear evident in the brown eyes of the cook who had been as much a mother to her as Madwyn.
Both had offered comfort to the small girl who’d watched as an arrow pierced her mother’s heart. Impulsively, Eliane gave the cook a quick hug. It was not the proper thing for the lady of the keep to do, but Eliane had never been one to worry about propriety.

  Mayhap it was time she started. It seemed as if that was her father’s greatest wish and she could not deny him. Not when he was dying.

  “Will you ride with us, Ammon?” He cupped his hands to boost her into the saddle. It was more of a polite gesture than anything, as Eliane’s legs were long enough to meet the stirrup on her own. A gesture born of long habit. Ammon was only a year younger than Eliane. They’d grown up together. Others might think her chausses and tunic inappropriate, along with her seat astride the horse. Ammon would have been more surprised if she wore skirts and rode sidesaddle. Would he look upon her differently when she became his protector?

  He grinned up at her. “I only await your permission.”

  “ ’Tis given,” she replied with a smile. He ran across the courtyard and vaulted upon the back of his mount. It was one of the younger mounts, born of her mare’s dam and her father’s destrier, who now awaited her father in heaven so that they might once more ride together. That was her version of heaven, not the one described by the priests. Eliane could not conceive of paradise without the love of a trusted animal such as Hector, Aletha, or Llyr.

  They rode through the raised portcullis and into the outer bailey, where the huntsmen waited. The hounds were held tightly in check by Ferris, the hunt master, and they bayed in earnest when they saw Llyr trotting by her side. He ignored them as always. Eliane knew he felt vastly superior to the hounds because he was allowed full run of the keep instead of being chained at night. What other dog slept at the foot of a soft bed but Llyr?

  Eliane and Ammon rode through the gate and across the drawbridge that was the final defense of Aubregate Keep. Stags, carved from stone, their features long ago faded from wind and weather, kept watch over the towers on either side of the gate. She should make sure the hinges were oiled and have the chains checked on both bridge and portcullis. It had been so long since they’d been lowered that she was not sure if they were in working order. It was quite possible she would have need of their protection soon. If her father died before she married, there would be suitors who would come, suitors such as Renauld Vannoy, whose desire to possess Aubregate was bred into him, along with his hawkish looks and indifferent cruelty.

  She would come under the king’s protection. The sudden thought nearly caused her to pull up on Aletha’s reins. As it was, the mare danced sideways and bumped into Ammon’s mount. The young stallion reared and fought the bit as Ammon struggled to retain his seat.

  “Milady?” he asked when he had his mount once more under control.

  “I feel I am too distracted today for the hunt,” Eliane declared loudly enough for all to hear. “I will visit with Madwyn today and look forward to your tales of conquest at dinner this eve.” Without waiting for their response, she kicked her heels into Aletha’s sides and took off across the field to the forest with Llyr bounding through the knee-deep snow at her side.

  Eliane felt the peace of the forest come over her as Aletha wound her way through the trees and onto the path cut by the innumerable deer that came to the field to graze at night beneath the safety of Aubregate’s towers. She let the mare have her head.

  The air fairly crackled with cold and their breath emerged as puffs of fog that seemed to freeze in mid-air. Aletha’s hooves beat a steady rhythm that accompanied the beating of Eliane’s heart. Branches popped overhead as squirrels scampered above in their haste to make sure the intruders were not after their treasure trove of food hidden away for the winter. A robin flew ahead, skimming just ahead of them with its red breast glowing bright against the dim grayness of the forest.

  Llyr turned to look at her with his mouth open wide in a semblance of a smile, and Eliane smiled back in return, snatching the wool cap from her head and stuffing it into her cloak. Without it, she felt a sudden sense of freedom. In the distance, she heard the crashing of heavy bodies through the wood, along with the cries of the hounds. They were on the trail of the boar and headed away from her, to the north.

  The trail began to slope downhill, and the tinkling sound of water moving beneath ice greeted her ears. Even though the air was frigid, the stream moved quickly enough to keep it from freezing entirely. The trail paralleled the stream, and both Llyr and Aletha quickened their steps, knowing their destination was close by.

  Suddenly Llyr stopped and Eliane quickly pulled up on Aletha’s reins so she would not run into the dog, which stood in the middle of the trail with his ears pitched forward. Eliane listened, her ears trained by Madwyn to differentiate between the sounds that belonged in the forest and those that did not. A weak bleating noise filtered through the normal sounds of birds chirping, trees creaking, and small animals scurrying about the undergrowth. Eliane urged Aletha forward.

  The path opened into a snow-covered glade with a large pond in the middle. The pond was covered with a sheet of ice, and a snow-trodden path led down to its banks. A doe raised her head at their appearance and trotted cautiously away a few steps. As Llyr bounded forward, she ran into the woods.

  Eliane heard the bleating again and saw something move close to the bank. She dismounted and followed the path to the pond’s edge, where a fawn struggled to escape the broken ice. As Eliane approached, the little creature stopped its struggles and stood trembling in the icy water with only its head showing above the crusting of ice.

  “Poor thing,” she cooed. Quickly she removed her cloak and gloves and commanded Llyr to stand back. Her first step into the pond brought a gasp as the icy water poured into her boots. Still, she moved onward and the fawn bucked desperately. Fear drove it farther out into the water. Eliane lunged and caught the creature just as it slid beneath the ice.

  She shivered violently as she pulled the baby against her breast, capturing its thin legs beneath her arm to keep it from striking her. It bleated once more, then sagged against her as she struggled to climb up the steep bank of the pond. She felt it shaking with cold and realized it was likely to freeze to death.

  She struggled upward and onward. The fawn, while gangly, was also light, so Eliane shifted it to her side as she snatched up her cloak. She cleared the snow from the ground with a swipe of her foot and wrapped both of them up in the fur lining as she sank to the ground.

  “Llyr,” she commanded. “Come.”

  Llyr obediently trotted to her side and sank down beside her. Eliane leaned against his side for warmth and spoke soothingly to the fawn, which could not be more than a few days old. Born in the dead of winter, its chances for survival were bleak, yet she was determined to do what she could for it.

  “Poor thing,” she said. “Trapped in the ice. I sympathize, my sweet, for I feel that I may soon be trapped also.” She rocked as she petted the fawn’s spotted neck and felt it calm beneath her hands. “Trapped in responsibility, trapped in marriage, trapped by the people and the place I love most.”

  Aletha snuffed at the snow and then raked a hoof across it until the tips of some sweet grass peaked through. Llyr watched from her side, and the heat of his body seeped through her cloak. Her feet felt like ice, so she slipped off her boots with some difficulty. She poured the water out onto the ground and set them aside. She wrapped her feet in the cloak and slid them up beneath Llyr’s front legs to warm them, then leaned against his hindquarters with the fawn in her arms.

  The fawn’s breathing slowed and it snuggled deep into her arms and the warm fur of her cloak. Eliane realized it was sleeping. Its fight for life had left it exhausted. She was unwilling to disturb the little animal, so she relaxed a bit and let Llyr support both of them. As peace settled over the glade, Eliane watched the doe timidly step forward and browse among the tufts of grass that Aletha had revealed.

  If only my life could continue to be this simple…

  What would
happen come the morrow? Her father had asked her to put away her usual clothing, and dress as befitting her station. Was there a reason for his request? Why did he ask her if there was someone she wished to marry? Was he now prepared to choose for her? She had said she would leave it to him; now that the time had drawn nigh, she must stand by her word.

  What if he died before he made his choice? What then? Would the king send for her? Take her away from Aubregate? Use her as a pawn or give her as a reward? Eliane well knew what became of unmarried heiresses.

  There was no need to dwell on things she could not change. She trusted her father to choose well, and she would live with his choice.

  And if her marriage was not accomplished before her father died, then she would close up the gates and defend herself against unwanted suitors.

  I cannot…the people will suffer. Aubregate will be lost…

  If only she could disappear into the forest. Fade into the trees and lose herself in the world that remained hidden there. She could go with Han. He would show her the way.

  Where is Han?

  He had not participated in the hunt, and now that she thought on it, it had been several days since she’d seen him. It was not unusual for him to disappear for long periods. Han usually stayed in the deep woods, only coming out occasionally, or when her father had need of him.

  “Father has sent Han to find me a husband,” Eliane said aloud. Aletha and Llyr both looked her way. The doe raised her head and the fawn stirred in her arms.

  “Be gone, little one,” she said as she stood the fawn up in the snow. It cried out and moved to its mother with its tail raised like a flag in greeting. The doe sniffed it carefully, then looked at Eliane with its soft brown eyes full of gratitude.