by Jill Hughey
“Yes, I witnessed that last night.”
“Doeg is good too, do not get me wrong. His arm is bent, not weak. He has learned to compensate and is a good fighter.”
“Not good enough to be noticed next to his younger brother.”
Theo sighed. “That is the crux of it, I think. The shame is that Doeg would never have been his brother’s match, even with two good arms. Some men are just built to be warriors. David is one of them.”
Rochelle leaned forward with her forearms braced on the table. “What has all this to do with me?”
“I am not sure. It all works back to David somehow, I would guess. David told you about his head wound?”
“Yes.”
“That was the first time I began to suspect Doeg of something less than brotherly devotion. He and I spent hours together searching that battlefield for David. I couldn’t believe David could be dead. Doeg, in those hours, became first resigned to the idea, then perhaps began to feel how freeing it might be.”
“That is horrible!”
Theo shrugged. “When we found David, well, I thought he was dead. And Doeg stood back, without even touching him, and declared that he was. When I knelt down to roll him over, David cursed me with the foulest language! Not ashamed to admit I was crying like a babe, both happy that he was alive and sad to see him laid so low. I looked up at Doeg and the expression on his face was…disappointed.”
“Have you told David this?”
“Not that particular story. I have tried to talk to him about other things. Talked to him last night about how Doeg shut those boys up so they could not talk. David will not hear a word against his brother. And you should not try.” Theo gave her a hard look. “Known David for over a decade and he barely tolerates me when I speak of it. He will dismiss you out of hand.”
They sat silent for a few minutes. “He certainly has not enjoyed much familial warmth, has he?” Rochelle asked.
Theo laughed bitterly. “Honestly, neither of them has.”
Rochelle continued, thoughtful. “Perhaps that is why David is so blind to his brother’s faults. Attachment to something flawed is better than no attachment at all?”
Theo studied her. “Imagine how he might cleave to a family such as you offer him. You, your mother, your people. His loyalty to something worthwhile could be profound.”
Rochelle scowled, not yet ready to yield to his persuasion. “Ah, how gracefully you weave the hopes of your emperor into the conversation. Will you stoop to any level to complete the task of seeing me married to your friend?”
“Slay me with cruel words!” Theo protested.
They laughed companionably, and were still smiling when David entered through the front door.
He quirked an eyebrow as he approached, his mouth set in a tense line. He extended a hand to drop two open links of gold wire on the table. “This is all I found. You will have to take it to a goldsmith when you are next in town.”
“There is a good one in Ribeauville,” Theo suggested as he pulled his breakfast plate in front of him again.
Rochelle looked up at David and would not allow herself to be intimidated by the harsh planes of his face. She wanted to recapture some of their closeness from the previous night. The openness of her gaze was enough. His eyes warmed and softened, his lips curved in gratification at her tender glance. The change was subtle, but she knew she hadn’t imagined it.
“I thank you,” she said. “I did not even know I had lost my chain, and here you have already found it for me. Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
She rose from the table. “I will see if Theo has left anything in the kitchen.”
She returned with one heaping plate and one normal serving of breakfast. David and she settled in side by side, and if their legs were pressed together unnecessarily, what of it?
When David noticed her picking at a chunk of pork with her fingers he leaned across her, grabbed her dagger and speared it into the meat. “It is just a dagger,” he said definitively. “Do not give it more authority than it deserves.” He kept eating.
She knew he was speaking of something other than the dagger, of not giving the memories of last night power over her mind. She worked at the pork. The tearing of the flesh felt a little too similar to Fardulf’s thigh and made her queasy. She ate a few bits before cleaning the blade and tucking it in the sheath on her belt.
“You are going out on the estate today?” he asked as he pushed his empty plate away.
“Yes,” she replied. “And, if you would like,” she added nervously, “you could ride out with me.”
He laughed without mirth. “I am afraid that after last night’s escapade you will be hard-pressed to get out of my sight in the near future. I would prefer to keep you in the house, but there are already tenants lurking around outside, hoping for a glimpse of you no doubt.”
She leapt to her feet. “I must go out to them. They do not have time to waste worrying about me!” She dashed upstairs to grab her heavy cloak, then into the kitchen for some food, stuffing the bag to capacity. She was happy to see David ready and waiting by the door, his fingers absently rubbing Magnus’s ear.
As she walked onto the porch, a communal sigh of relief emanated from the small cluster of tenants huddled in the courtyard. Her overseer rushed forward, nearly overcome with concern. “Lady Rochelle, this is terrible! Look at your face! How could such a thing happen here? To you?”
“I am fine except for my cheek, Ardo, as you can see.”
“Tell me you will not go riding out today!”
“Why would I not? Our unwelcome visitors were apprehended and sent away. And here is David who has agreed to accompany me, although I am sure there is no danger.”
Ardo gave David a short bow. “Thanks be to God for you, sir.” He gestured to the group behind him and raised his voice so they could hear. “We know it was you who saved her. We will all serve you to our last breath.” Small outcries of agreement could be heard from the others.
“Ardo,” Rochelle said firmly. “There is much to do. Please, you must make sure that all the people continue to prepare for winter. I am worried about the firewood. That is what I want you to do today. Begin to check with each household that they have adequate supplies of wood.”
She moved toward her people and mingled among them for a few minutes. David stayed on the porch, noting how they pressed her hands and drank in her reassurances. Though obviously of the lower class, they each had decent clothing and most even wore shoes. None had the sallow, sunken-cheeked countenance of abject poverty. He guessed that Rochelle concerned herself with more than just the basic supplies for survival. The tenants hazarded shy glances at him, quick to drop their eyes submissively if he happened to notice them.
“Now go,” she finally ordered. “You must all see to your duties. Winter will be fast upon us.”
They reluctantly left, all but Ardo moving in a knot to the gate where they dispersed in different directions. The overseer reluctantly approached David. “Will those men be punished, sir?”
Rochelle scowled at David over Ardo’s shoulder. David was not sure if she was annoyed that Ardo had not hastened to do her bidding, or that he addressed his question to him instead of her.
“They will. Theophilus is here, Lord of Ribeauville. He has determined their fine and will handle the matter.”
Ardo pursed his thick lips.
“You are not satisfied?” David asked warningly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“It is not my place to have an opinion on it, sir,” Ardo said, though his next words showed he certainly did. “Money hardly seems enough after they tried to take our lady away. Grabbed her person, or so I heard.”
David rocked on the balls of his feet. “I am sure you will hear in time that the two scoundrels were not in the fittest physical condition when they left Alda.”
Ardo’s eyes narrowed and a small smirk curled his mouth. He nodded in understanding. “Aye, sir. I hear what you ar
e saying. I’ll just be on my way, then.”
Rochelle watched her overseer leave, before swinging her attention back to David. “Did Sewell and Fardulf leave here in worse condition than what I saw?” she asked, clearly horrified.
David sighed. “Doeg gave Sewell a few bruises he will not soon forget.”
“Doeg?” she gasped. “But why?”
“He would have had a good reason.”
Rochelle stared at him, but he wouldn’t say more. She turned and stalked toward the gate, stopping to stare at the bar leaning on the wall. She heard David’s approach behind her. “What blocked it?” she asked.
He leaned over to pick up several wedges of wood. “These were jammed in between the braces on the gate and the bar. The placement concealed them for quite some time. To Theo, they looked like part of the braces until he could get adequate light.”
“So it was definitely intentional.”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you think Sewell did this?”
He turned one of the pieces in his hand. “If Sewell truly expected you to just ride away with him, he would not bar the gate against you.”
“Not to mention risk getting trapped inside.”
“Did you see or hear anything as you left the courtyard?”
Rochelle had searched her memory over and over. “It seems ridiculous, but I honestly do not remember anything unusual. How could someone pound these wedges in place and I not hear it?”
David looked at her and at the gate. He closed it carefully, as someone who did not want to be heard would. It rode quietly on its massive hinges. After sliding the bar home, he worked one of the wedges into place, first with his fingers, then by tapping lightly with the handle of his sword wrapped in the edge of his cloak. The whole operation was nearly silent.
The recreation did not ease either of their minds. David stood back to assess the gate. “I suppose one of those boys could have climbed it. I have searched the edge of the wall on both sides all the way around and there is no sign of anyone climbing out anywhere else.” He cursed himself quietly. “I wish I had sent Doeg to check around last night before Theo opened the gate. I was so intent on getting to you I did not even think of a threat from within these walls.”
“Are you suggesting that someone from inside blocked the gate?”
“I am not suggesting anything. I am just trying to examine every possibility and it seems to me there are three. Sewell or Fardulf blocked the gate then climbed it, or someone blocked the gate and hid until they could slip out, or someone blocked it then blended right back into the household.”
Rochelle’s mind reeled at the last two ideas.
“Has anyone new been added to the household? Or is there anyone you do not trust?”
Remembering Theo’s earlier warning about incriminating Doeg, Rochelle spoke carefully. “I absolutely trust all our servants. Other than that, as you know, your brother came day before yesterday. And of course, you and Theo are new.”
“Well, I did not lock your gate and Theo was in the same room with me.”
“And Doeg?” she asked cautiously.
The hint of a shadow crossed David’s face. “Hmm,” he said. He turned to the gate to undo his handiwork.
Chapter Fifteen
David and Rochelle rode across Alda, heading southwest. They crossed fields of grain stubble as she explained how the harvest was divided between the estate share and the tenants. Nearly half the yield must also be set aside for seeding the fields next spring. She pointed to several large areas left fallow so the soil could rejuvenate.
Occasionally they came upon a tenant’s home. Some were better kept than others, but each had a vegetable garden of its own and sometimes a few fruit trees. Many had a fat pig or two tied outside, recently brought in from the forest to prepare for slaughter. Chickens wandered the yards, and the occasional cow or goat. Rochelle’s tenants greeted her respectfully, sometimes the man of the house alone, but often with his wife and children. Her introduction of David was brief, his name only. She owed them no introduction at all. Their submissive postures proved that they understood whom he was and exactly what role he might play in their futures.
They were all eager to share news of record harvests or other accomplishments of which their lady might be proud. She praised them, though she did not hesitate to give gentle reminders of work to be done or debts to be paid before winter set in.
One young man proudly showed off his pregnant wife. “I will be a father before January, and no mistake!” he bragged, putting his hand on her swelling belly. The woman was younger than Rochelle, with huge wet eyes. The more the husband crowed about the impending arrival, the wetter the wife’s eyes became.
“Is your mother coming to attend you, Marta?” Rochelle asked.
“Yes, my lady,” the girl said, barely above a whisper.
“Then all will be well. She has had six – no, seven! – of her own. Send for me if you need me.”
The girl bent her head and the hiccup of a sob escaped. Rochelle slid quickly from Denes’s back, put her arm around Marta’s trembling shoulders and led her out of earshot of the men. David could distinguish Rochelle’s comforting tone, but not the words.
He dismounted and stood awkwardly with the expectant father, Terence, he thought Rochelle had said. He should not feel awkward, yet he had nothing to say, no sage advice about firewood or childbirth or finishing a hog.
Rochelle and the woman rejoined them, the young mother looking only slightly encouraged. But her eyes shown with gratitude as David and Rochelle trotted away.
David’s admiration of Rochelle grew with each field they crossed and each home they visited. She spoke knowledgeably and confidently about the smallest details of the estate. She knew everyone’s name and place, their joys and sorrows. She answered questions succinctly. Requests were denied or granted quickly, and the people who were denied neither argued nor complained.
They happened upon Samuel a league or so beyond Terence’s house. He and the horse looked exactly as they should after traveling all night.
“Oh Samuel, I am so relieved to see you well,” Rochelle gushed.
He ducked his head, then peered up at David who towered over him from Woden’s back. “Did the men go quietly?”
“They didn’t make any trouble, but I won’t say that Fardulf was quiet. He started moanin’ early on, and set up quite a ruckus when he realized he was trussed and hangin’ on that pony.”
“Were you received well at Sewell’s house?”
“I gave the message, just like Theophilus said, and I turned back around. They offered to feed me. I thought I’d just as soon get back home.”
“Very well. Make sure you report to Theophilus immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” Samuel said. He was about to ride away when Rochelle stopped him.
“I have heard that you are courting Ruthie properly.”
A ruddy flush crept up from his neck. “I am tryin’, my lady.”
Rochelle smiled. “How do you fare?”
“I like her well enough, and I think she likes me. Its just….”
“Just what?” Rochelle asked, a teasing tone in her voice. The smile left her face when he looked up at her in misery.
“I don’t think her family likes me. Her father don’t let her out of his sight. And sometimes I catch him starin’ at me like I’m a big hairy spider.”
“Perhaps you are imagining it. I am sure you are very nervous.”
But Samuel shook his head vigorously. “No, he follows us, even if we just walk circles around their house, he won’t wait in the front while we go around the back. And he has forbidden her from seeing me at your house. I don’t understand why he won’t trust me with her, even for a minute!”
Rochelle felt a stab of pity. She thought she might know why. “Samuel,” she said gently. “Ruthie’s father is a gentle, protective man. He knows your father.”
Samuel’s eyes widened in understanding, then narrowed in ang
er. “But I am not like him. I would never hit Ruthie. I would never hurt her,” he insisted.
“I know that. I know it and I believe you. It will take time for you to build your own reputation as a man and not be held in your father’s shadow.”
Samuel sulked. “That isn’t fair.”
“No, it is not,” she agreed. “You can do it. And your father is not all bad. He is a good worker, as you are. That will always serve you well. Give everyone a chance to learn who you really are.”
She knew her answer did not satisfy Samuel who would want everything to happen faster than it did. He rode away from them with slouched shoulders.
Rochelle sighed.
“His father beats him?” David asked.
“Sometimes.”
“I am surprised you allow that.”
Her glance at him was sharp. “It is not for me to allow or disallow, though I did mention it to Bertrand once, which was probably a mistake. I do not interfere in the tenants’ private lives as long as they do not affect the business of the estate. The best I can do is to give Samuel the opportunity to leave his father’s home. Maybe by next spring he will be ready. He is a smart boy. I just have not found the right opportunity yet.”
She turned them due west so they soon meandered through the trees bordering the course of the river. She guided them directly to a small gravelly beach on its bank.
“I like to eat lunch here sometimes,” she suggested.
David nodded agreeably. He let the reins of the horses drag on the ground before reaching up for Rochelle. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his fingers on her waist. She knew he had something to say, so she waited quietly, staring at the fine cream linen covering his chest.
When he finally spoke, his words came in a rush. “I should not have said that about Samuel’s father. Of course you are not responsible for his actions.”
“I know.” Her heart felt heavy thinking about all the bruises she’d had to overlook on Samuel and others. Perhaps she felt the weight of it more after being attacked herself last night. “It must be terrible to be so helpless, to be at someone’s mercy like that.”
